Chapter Three: Cursed
When Elizabeth returns to the hat shop, the evening darkness had already settled in. Usually bustling high streets were now vacant of their earlier hustle and noise, ghosts of their former selves, instead filled with the odd straggler or wanderer like herself. Vehicles lay dormant in the road, their spluttering engines devoid of life and steam. Even the shop fronts, with their usually bold and colourful displays, were shrouded in shadows and gloom. Darkness and emptiness. Everything had become sleepy, still, the dusk and gloom of the night settling in a filmy shade.
Warm light spilled from the streetlamps, amber and orange like a glowing fire. They splashed the buildings in circles of bright yellow, making the paint sparkle and gleam like fine gloss. Each window they landed upon gave a blurred image of the scenery within, displaying items of interest or the shadows of inhabitants performing their nightly rituals. But even the lights, with their bright glow, had a sort of eerie feeling. A foreboding feeling.
Elizabeth herself came under a glowing spotlight, her shadows dancing on the street's paving stones, as she hopped up the front steps of the hatter's. Like usual, the green paint of the building was a moss green in the gloom, and the plaques with advertisements and opening times within them were a dull grey. In the reflection of the door's small embellished windows, she spotted her face and hat melded into one, the light playing with the reflection. Usually, she would pay it no mind, but tonight she was a little more on edge. A little more wary. As a result, she paused as she slid her key into the lock and unlocked the door.
"What a strange reflection..." She mumbled as she pushed open the door and slipped into the shop.
Closing the door behind her, Elizabeth flipped the latch and removed her hat from her head with a sigh. As much as she loved the accessory for making her semi-invisible in public, she also hated how stuffy it could feel sometimes. With it being so lowly drawn over her eyes, her forehead would always feel tight and constricted. Her vision was always slightly cut off too. But to Elizabeth, those were small prices to pay for exchange for semi-invisibility.
Walking towards the counter, Elizabeth placed down her hat and checked the shop for anything amiss - as was the routine. Everything was just as it was left: hats were positioned on their hooks and stands, the fabrics also coated in the darkness of shadows; a few feathers stuck out, their shadows almost like monstrous limbs; and bright beads caught the gleam of the streetlights outside, glimmering with small specks of red, yellow or blue.
By force of routine, Elizabeth took a box of matches from the counter and struck one. The tiny amber flame danced on its wooden stick before being guided towards a small oil lamp. Just as it lit the room, flooding it with bright, warm light, it licked the tips of Elizabeth's finger.
"Ouch!" The goddess waved her hand, putting out the flame. Instinctively, she dropped the match onto the counter and began to heal her now red finger. Bright light escaped from her uninjured hand, soft and gentle as it touched her burned skin. "Am I ever going to learn how to light these things properly?"
Due to her clumsy nature, this happened way too often to be extremely abnormal. In fact, whenever anyone else was around, Elizabeth always requested that they lit the lamp instead of her. Otherwise, the hat shop may just burn down one day because she accidentally burned herself once more.
The tinkling of the shop's bell draws the goddess' attention, the sound being something she hadn't expected. Immediately, it draws Elizabeth's eyes to the front door, where a woman dressed entirely in dark clothing stands.
Her dress is one made to fit the body tightly, emphasizing the dips of her curves and the slimness of her build. Dark gloves match her dress, along with a pair of dark, shiny heels. Along her neck was a line of a glass onyx beads, a single red jewel dipping to land in the middle of her exposed chest. The rim of the woman's dark hat obscured her eyes, but revealed the light smirk sitting upon crimson painted lips. A lone beauty mark sits on her cheek, laying next to an earring that matches the dark necklace and scattered raven hair.
One gloved hand rests elegantly on the door, wrapped around the golden handle as it seals shut once more. The bell's light tinkle rings around the room.
"I'm sorry, but the shop is closed now, ma'am," Elizabeth puts on her most firm voice, not used to dealing with wandering customers at the this time of night. But then again, she wasn't usually the one who locked the shop up - that duty was left to Margaret. So this must have been some error on her end.
'I could have sworn I locked that door...' The goddess frowns as the woman walks towards her, casually picking up hats and examining them with what must have been a scrutinizing eye.
With disgust, her gloved hands place down hat after hat, dusting off the remains of feathers or the stray thread from a fake flower. Clearly, this mysterious woman wasn't here to browse or buy; she was here on a personal business that had some sort of hatred attached to it.
When the woman finally stops at the counter, her form entirely elegant and powerful, she stares directly at Elizabeth, taking her in. She passes a gaze that can see directly through the soul, her crimson smirk unchanging as she opens her mouth to speak.
"What a tacky little shop this is," A playful, catlike voice leaves her lips, the rim of the hat moving to expose the woman's face. A pair of golden almond-shaped eyes catch Elizabeth's, matched with a youthful and beauty-filled face. "I've never seen such dull looking hats."
Insults. Not a word except the polite 'we're closed, come back tomorrow' had been uttered, and this woman was already trading insults. Elizabeth had no idea what had warranted this kind of unwanted behaviour, but she wasn't going to stand for it either. She knew that at least. Margaret had always told her that it wasn't wrong to put some customers in their place. Elizabeth was an employee here, and even if the customer can be right, she ultimately had the final say. Clearly, this woman needed to be taught that.
"Well- "
"However," A thoughtful click of the tongue, a gloved finger tapping against her cheek. The woman's smirk betrays that she knows Elizabeth was about to speak, but she doesn't care. "You are by far the most dull thing here."
Anger. Elizabeth definitely feels a little anger at that unnecessary remark. She already knew that compared to most women and girls her age, she was far from out there. Being the quiet, little homebody she was, she wasn't one to stick out. Her only unique trait was the fact that she had wings - and that came from the fact that she wasn't native to here. So really, apart from her genetic heritage, Elizabeth was normal. Bland. Basic.
But she liked it like that. She liked being someone who melded into the background.
This woman, however, made it sound like an insult. Something to be ashamed of. People like her, those who liked to belittle and put others down, were people that Elizabeth disdained. She did not like those who liked to pick on others. She did not like those who flaunted their power.
Blood rushed to the surface of Elizabeth's skin, staining it pink and forcing her wings to twitch a little. With a racing heart and heavy lungs, she took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts, determined to not lose her cool.
"As I said, the shop is closed, ma'am," Confidently, Elizabeth makes her way from around the counter and towards the door. Effortlessly, she pulls it open and regards the woman with a plain expression, holding the door open. "You will have to leave now."
Chuckling, the woman remains by the counter, her eyes filled with a strange sort of glee. A bigger smile fills her features, stretching the red paint thin on her lips. "Standing up to Witch of the Waste, are you? You're quite brave."
Elizabeth's eyes widen, "The Witch of the Waste- "
Before she can register what is even going on, two blobby men stand at the door, squelching and squeaking. They wear two ivory masks, their bulbous noses and lack of eyes likening them to the creatures she had seen earlier on in the day. The creatures that the mysterious man had saved her from.
Suddenly, everything clicks and she steps from the door, willing it to close, but of course the blobby men have grabbed it and stepped inside.
A gasp leaves Elizabeth's mouth as the woman behind her appears to stretch and fade into a ghost, passing through the room at the speed of light. Her laughter echoes around the room, cackling and deep, telling of intentions for the poor girl.
Instinctively, Elizabeth pulls her hands to her head and crouches inwards on herself, hoping to minimize the ultimate damage. Nevertheless, a shiver passes through her spine once the witch reaches the door, leaving the goddess coated in a filmy, dark sheen that looked like a thin layer of the blob-creatures. Immediately, it begins to fade, evaporating into nothingness.
"The best part of this spell is that you can't tell anyone about it," The witch smiles, surveying her work as her gloved hand rested on the door handle once more. Nodding, she waves a hand as she leaves, the door clicking shut behind her. "My regards to Meliodas."
After the tinkle of the shop's bell, silence fills the room. Elizabeth is left alone, still crouched and fearing that the witch had not left her entirely alone. A few moments of silence pass before she decides to let her arms drop and peer around the room. First, she looks left and finds the hats sitting, unchanged, on their stands. Then, she looks right and sees the closed door and the darkness of the street beyond. There were no other signs of life.
Releasing a gentle sigh, Elizabeth stands straight. Oddly, she does not feel the twitch of her wings, or even a shift. Frowning, she touches her shoulder and finds that she cannot sense the usually soft and feathery feel of her extra limbs.
"What's going on?" She breathes, dragging her hands over her back in an attempt to feel the limbs. Not once does she encounter even a whisper of their feathers - not even a stray wisp.
Glancing at her hands, Elizabeth gasps, spotting them to be a very tanned, worn and cracked view. Her once pristine - and sometimes needle-pricked - hands, were now replaced with those of a worker, a laborer, light wrinkles and callouses tracing into her sun-darkened skin. She follows the skin up to her wrist, then traces her neck and face with the changed hands. As she does, she finds a texture she does not recognise, an odd grubby feeling on her face that was most definitely not hers.
"No...no, no, no - no!" Rushing towards the mirror usually used by customers, Elizabeth's eyes widen as she meets her reflection.
A pair of blue eyes, dulled and darkened, met hers, framed by skin that was stained olive from the sun. Odd scars and light wrinkles traced her skin, all outlining the protruding angles of her bones from a lack of what had to be nourishment. Once long, silky starlight hair was now reduced to thinning, dying locks, cropped short into what had to be an attempt to save it. But most shocking of all, most frightening, was the absence of her wings. Her beautiful, prized wings that she had always cherished.
"It's really me, isn't it?" The goddess watches as her hands trace her new face, stretching the skin and seeing if it will shed off like a lizard's. For a few moments she continues this act, running her hands through her hair and all over her face. It's only once she knows that it is futile, pointless, that she slaps her cheeks, reddening them, and speaks to herself once more. "I have to stay calm!"
Promptly, Elizabeth then turns on her heel and paces around the hat shop. It was odd, pacing without her wings following on the ground and tracing the carpet, but she ignored the shiver in her spine and instead focused on being calm. Absorbing the situation. She needed to have a level head if she was ever going to understand this; she needed to stay calm and think of what to do next. If she was still panicking and screaming, worrying and crying, then she will get nowhere. She will learn nothing.
Sucking in a deep breath, Elizabeth calms her racing heart and walks back to mirror. She approaches it with closed eyes, preparing herself for what she will see, and only opens them once she knows she is ready. Calm.
"I have to stay calm!"
Sucking in another breath, this time sharp, she turns away from the mirror and marches outside to the courtyard connecting the boarding rooms and workrooms to the shop. As soon as she leaves the shop, the cool night air wraps around her tanned flesh and soothes her partially. Partially. Inside she is still a panicking, quaking mess, her lungs feeling tight and her heart booming in her ears the longer she thinks about her predicament.
"Now, there's no use panicking, Elizabeth - Gah!" She trips on the little cobblestone that sticks higher up than the others, face-planting onto the ground. The impact stings, burns her flesh, but she dusts herself off and stands up, holding the tears back in her eyes. Breathing harshly, she sniffs and lifts a hand to her stinging cheek.
Nothing happens.
All air leaves her lungs. Blinking, Elizabeth shakes her head and tries to lift her hand and heal her cheek once more. Again, nothing happens. No warm light leaks from her fingertips; no soothing sensation of healing invades her senses. Her cheek still stings; her body is still not her own.
Great tears form in Elizabeth's eyes, ready to pour and spill onto the cobblestones below, but the goddess holds them in. She holds in the growing damn of tears, the aching pull of her heart and the tightening clench of her lungs. She ignores the missing feeling of her wings, the weird itchiness of her skin, the sudden goosebumps on her neck. She thinks of everything, anything, other than the terrible curse that had been placed upon her. The terrible change she was forced to undergo.
"Everything will be fine, Elizabeth," Her voice leaves cracked and teary, as she rocks on the dirty ground. She sniffs once more. "Everything will be fine..."
For the rest of the night, she sits there, refusing to sob as silent tears escape her eyes.
The next day is bright, cheerful, just like every other day within the town. Golden rays leak down from the sun, the glowing ball set high and bright within the clear, blue skies. Not a single rain cloud was in sight, the blue canvas set with the colours of sunshine, cool winds and heat. Nice weather. Happy weather. Not a single storm to come for miles around.
As if matching with the weather, the whole town was also abuzz. Children skipped along with parents, pointing at shiny displays and chewing away on shiny sweets; shoppers passed from shop to shop, toting bags and laughing between each other; everyone else was smiling and waving at everyone they passed, remarking on the great weather and how they were lucky to have such good fortune in the middle of a war.
Elizabeth's mother arrived in the usual noise and splendor she typically did. Boasting a flamboyant hat filled with huge feathers, golden canons and sweet-smelling flowers, she easily exited her automobile and hoisted her armfuls of gifts for the girls. Her heeled shoes effortlessly floated up the front steps and transported her into the workrooms, knowing that she'd be happily welcomed by the easily-excited girls working away on yet another beautiful day.
"Look who's here!" As she'd guessed, all of the girls were stationed within the room. Almost immediately, they all gathered around her, like a flock of little birds, and eagerly chattered away to her about her new hat and the fact that Kingsbury must be a lot more exciting than their boring old town.
"We missed you so much, ma'am!" The girl with blonde curls cried, eyeing the expensive hat with awe. She fawns over the colour, rich and deep and clear. "You always tell us such great tales!"
"And you've always brought us great inspiration!" Another girl butted in, taking down the details of the fine hat with a keen eye. She especially liked the golden cannons, perhaps symbolizing the incoming war that Camelot was sure to win. She'd definitely have to use them in one of her latest designs.
"Well, it's all the range in Kingsbury!" Elizabeth's mother smiles, turning around and displaying her new hat for all eyes to see. A gloved hand rested on the rim, tipping and tilting it as she twirled in her bright yellow dress. "Only the best know that Kingsbury is the future!"
If there was anything Elizabeth's mother loved about her daughter working in a hat shop, it was that she got to show off the latest fashions her wealth could afford. Whenever she came to visit her daughter in this droll little town, Elizabeth's mother always got to seem like an exciting foreigner, a glamorous celebrity - a part she loved to play very well. Ever since running away from their past lives in the once war-torn Danafor, Elizabeth's mother was always using her charm as an unknown outsider to gain the trust and awe of others. She lived to play a part she'd always love.
However, Elizabeth hadn't followed her example. She didn't love the idea of her differences being used to charm and bewitch others. She didn't like the 'oos' and the 'ahs' that came from simple-minded country folk. That had led to Elizabeth working in a hat shop, passing her days in a bland and mundane routine.
But despite disagreeing with her daughter's choices in the beginning, Elizabeth's mother had decided to humour her. She figured that Elizabeth would eventually grow tired of hatting and would run back home, ready to join her mother in her rich exploits and exciting strings of romances. However, it had been two years and Elizabeth showed no signs of wanting to leave. If anything, she seemed happy living a simple hatter's life.
"It's amazing!" One girl gawked, admiring the light fabric of the hat.
"Stunning!" Another agreed, sifting through her box of add-ons to see if she had any feathers in that particular shade of raven blue.
"I know, all the customers love it," Elizabeth's mother blinks, flashing the girls another wide grin. She hides the chagrin towards her daughter's life choices and instead walks towards her little workroom, intent on seeing her. "Elizabeth!"
The door swings open and meets the atypical sight of an empty room. The box of feathers, beads and flowers lay on the table, discarded and unused. Stray needles and threads lay upon the surface as well, suggesting it was all left in a hurry. A very odd sight. Usually, Elizabeth would be sitting at her workbench, either intently gazing at a piece of work in her hands or studying the view from her window. Her station would also be pretty clean, with the goddess being one to keep things tidy as she went along. She never left needles unguarded because she would always prick herself with them.
"Elizabeth?" Her mother frowns as she turns from the empty room to the girls all seated behind her. "Is she here today?"
"I'm afraid she hasn't come down yet," Margaret sighs, running a hand through her long, lavender hair. Her brown eyes fill with concern, her brows furrowing. "I tried to check up on her earlier, but she said that she wasn't feeling too well."
"That's strange," Elizabeth's mother frowned a little more, knowing that it was near impossible for a goddess to feel ill. The few exceptions to that rule were a very concerning notion, meaning that something big had to be amiss. "I wonder what's wrong..."
Leaving her many gifts within the workroom, Elizabeth's mother exited the building and walked out into the small courtyard. It was very concerning for Elizabeth to be missing and not tell anyone about her supposed 'illness'. The least she would expect was for her daughter was to try and contact her if she was feeling particularly unwell.
Turning, the older woman entered a second doorway, following the polished wooden steps up to the boarding rooms that the apprentices' used.
"Elizabeth!" She called out, her heels tapping against the floors. She tried to ignore the small particles of dust that flew up in the air. "Are you ok, dear?"
Silence. Elizabeth's mother pauses in front of her daughter's door, her brows furrowing with concern as her hand rests above the wood. This was very unlike her. Very. Never before had her daughter suddenly gone off the grid and refuse to respond to anyone. Elizabeth would always respond. Always. She may be a little avoidant of social interactions, but she wasn't a complete recluse.
"Elizabeth!" Her mother bangs on the door, prompting for Elizabeth to open it. Leaning her weight against the door, she tries to open it, but it remains firmly locked. She bangs again. "Elizabeth, are you in there?"
"Don't come in!"
It's a strange voice, very rough and very raw. It sounds like the voice of those girls who hang around street corners, smoking cigars and giggling as they climbed into automobiles with strange men. The type of girls who wore big jackets lined with fur, and tights that were constructed of fishnets, and dresses that were shortened by hand. That voice was the type of voice that belonged to a common girl, a reckless girl, and sounded nothing like the Elizabeth her mother had raised.
"Don't be silly, my dear," Elizabeth's mother frowns a little, trying to open the door by its handle. It jiggles in her hand, refusing to budge. Growing frustrated, the older woman releases a sigh. "Elizabeth, open the door."
"No," A small cough, perhaps the goddess clearing her throat. Whatever it was, it wasn't a very pleasant noise - it sounded like those ruffians who spat onto the street. "I have a terrible cold, mother. I think I caught it from one of my clients. I don't want you to catch it."
"Well, you do sound ghastly. Just like those girls who smoked by our garden," Her mother agrees, knowing very well that when a goddess got sick, they got the illness really bad. It was the one con to the ability to heal more or less anything.
But even so, that just made Elizabeth's excuse all the more unlikely. If Elizabeth had gotten sick, then she would have contacted her mother immediately. She knew that she was supposed to whenever she fell ill because it was such a tricky situation. Yet today, when she was scheduled to visit, Elizabeth had completely neglected to notify her mother on the fact that she was sick. That was odd. Strange. And it made Elizabeth's mother question the true reason for her daughter's sudden illness even more.
"I'll just stay in bed today, mother. Go back home," Elizabeth's scratchy voice breaks through the door once more. A sniff accompanies it this time, too loud to be real. "I'm sure I'll be fine by tomorrow."
That was true. Typically, a cold would last a day for Elizabeth, the goddess being pretty good at fighting back her illnesses. At this revelation, Elizabeth's mother felt herself relax a little, the tension within her shoulders unbunching just a tiny bit.
"If you insist," The older woman quietly responds, the concern within her not lessening entirely. If anything it grew with Elizabeth's urge for her to return home, especially since she had not visited for a few weeks. But if Elizabeth said she would be fine, she will be fine. She was grown now and she did know how to look after herself - even if her mother did disagree with her on certain aspects of her life.
Elizabeth's mother bites her lip, "Just remember that you can call me anytime, dear."
"I know, mother."
Releasing a sigh, the woman then pushed away from the door and began to walk back down the dusty wooden steps, ready to head back to Kingsbury. It seemed her daughter was straying further and further away from propriety. Soon, the Elizabeth she raised will no longer be left.
Elizabeth had not wanted to wake up that morning. After crying and pacing herself to exhaustion, the young goddess had thought that sleep would consume her for at least half of the next day. Sadly, she had been wrong and instead her panic had woken her up early - just as the sun began to rise in the lightening night sky.
For most of the morning, Elizabeth had drifted in and out of fitful bouts of sleep. Within her sheets she tossed and turned, having terrible visions and memories of what had occurred the night before. She'd watch herself melt and morph from her original appearance to her new accursed form. People she knew, the girls from the shop, Elaine, her mother - anyone she knew - would gasp and gape in horror as her wings shrunk into scattered feathers in the wind and her hair darkened and dried out into its dead, thinned bob. Her hands would bleed into its sun-stained shade and she would feel aches and pains in her joints and bones.
Then, when all around her had turned their backs on her, horrified by her new appearance, she'd spot the witch. The woman who had cursed her, beautiful and elegant. She would loom above her, crimson lips smirking, as her cackles echoed around the room and Elizabeth shrunk inwards on herself, willing for it all to disappear.
That's when she woke up. Every time. It got to the point where she gave up on sleep and instead sat on her bed, her form encased within her blanket, trying to make sense of it. Trying to think of why, just why, someone would want to curse her.
When her mother had come to check on her, Elizabeth had been close to figuring it out. She realised that the man she met the day before must have been a wizard. She realised that he was in trouble with the witch of the waste. She realised that he was Meliodas.
And she felt oh so stupid when she figured it out. Oh so very stupid.
After urging her mother to go home, Elizabeth finally decided what she must do. How she must act now that she had been cursed. Sliding off her bed, she discards the safety shield of her blanket and shuffles towards the small vanity across the room. On it lay her hairbrush, a candle-holder with a half-melted candle within it, the porcelain wash basin and jug she had brought from her old home and her small jewelry box with her earring within it.
Preparing herself, the goddess takes in a deep breath and stares at her reflection. She expects to see a horrible and grotesque version of herself, the one she had seen within her nightmare, but instead she sees someone ordinary, someone plain. This new her, the one cursed by the witch, was just like another girl her age in this town. Sure, she was a little country-looking, especially with her sun-kissed skin, but she wasn't completely ugly either. She looked pretty normal - perhaps even beautiful beneath the dirt and grime of her work-worn features.
"This isn't really too bad now that I think about it," Elizabeth says to herself, examining herself more closely. More finely. She twirls a short strand of hair around her finger. "You're still healthy and no-one will really notice you anymore. You'll be like any other girl in this town."
Talking to herself wasn't something new - thankfully. Whenever Elizabeth felt lonely, or that she needed advice, she would speak to herself. It was her way of keeping calm, her way of making sure that she didn't make a mistake.
Distantly, the excited chatter of the other girls floated into the room. Elizabeth could picture them all, working away but also gossiping and throwing things at each other teasingly. They were all so supportive and kind; so bright and happy and playful. She doubted that they would reject her if she revealed what had happened. She doubted that they would not understand her situation at all. But because of her situation, she had to leave. She had to find Meliodas.
"But I can't stay here like this for long," Elizabeth walks away from the mirror, already grabbing things she'd need. She pulls out a small bag and sifts through the small inventory she had. "It will put them all in danger."
The goddess then places her nightgown, underwear and a spare dress into the bag, tightening the string and throwing it over her shoulder. Luckily, she had raided the pantry last night and so had some bread, cheese and fruit for the journey. Just enough to last her two days if she used it wisely. As the goddess leaves, she secures her trusty wicker hat on her head and pulls a red scarf around her neck, making sure to obscure as much of her as possible.
Toting her bag of items, Elizabeth creeps along the hall as silently as she can. She doesn't want anyone seeing her - let alone catching her in the act. They would try to convince her to stay and that would only make this impossibly worse.
Slipping out of the back door, the goddess overhears a few men talking about the war, the neighboring kingdom's missing prince. It appeared that things were only escalating between the two countries, meaning that it will be dangerous to slip out into the Waste.
A shiver shoots up Elizabeth's spine.
Even before she had formed this plan, Elizabeth knew that it was dangerous. She knew that she may not return. But she must break this curse. She must go to the Waste and find Meliodas.