《From Here to the Cosmos and Back》


 Meeting Death

    One the eve of her nineteenth birthday Gianna had learned of her own betrothal. Such news came from her father who, from her perspective, had seemed desperate to marry her off since she came out of her mother¡¯s womb. Born of poverty, Gianna had only known of pain, hardship, and honest labor. When she reached the age when she could walk, she had learned what shoveling cow shit was like. Days upon days of her youth she spent watching her mother idly cooking, tending to house, and helping with the farm. Her dad had preferred the physical, pain staking labor. Gianna had wondered why he had felt it his duty to take on the ¡°harder¡± parts of labor.


    At the age of six, she had learned of her own duties from her mother (but it wasn¡¯t like those weren¡¯t already instilled). She had learned of the duties of a woman, a wife, and a mother. To care for her husband and submit to her all was what was to become of her. At ten, Gianna had dreamed of the day she would one day meet her husband. Her mother¡¯s stories did not help with such daydreams, instead they heightened them. At the age of twelve, when she first bled, her father told her that she should think about getting married. That day, Gianna felt as if she wanted to go back to the days of her mother reading stories of princes and princesses to hide away in the fantasy. Every month after her first period she grimaced.


    When Gianna had turned seventeen, she had attended her best friend¡¯s wedding. She noted the distant look on her dear friend¡¯s face months after the ¡°glorious¡± day. A rose displayed across from where she sat with the bridal party struck her, for it had already started wilting.


    At nineteen years of age, she sits in front of her mirror while her mother places daisies in her hair. She was not to get a grandeur wedding like her friends. She was sold to the highest bidder just like the pigs her dad was tending to that morning. She had learned his name just that morning, Sir Nickols. A supposed honest man of forty years with land east, past the winding forest of Vales. He did not have much, but he had enough to sustain her and some children. Beyond those details Gianna knew nothing of the man she was to marry.


    She watched as her mother worked her magic on her hair. Dark tendrils framed her face, making her appear younger than she was. Gazing at her reflection she noted her dress, white, pure, with embroidered flowers lining the sleeves of her pudgy arms. She felt constricted in every way. Her wider frame made her feel rather silly in the wedding dress. Her mom had tightened the bodice, making it difficult to breathe. Her bosom was rising and falling rapidly with every nervous respiration she took. She looked further, noting every daisy peering out from her chestnut brown hair. The line in her face creased ever so slightly in a frown.


    The neckline was high while the train had been cut short to make for easier travel. It was the beginning of fall where she lived. Her mother had told her that she would not be able to visit until spring of next year since the winters were so fierce.


    The dress felt heavy against her. She felt that with every passing minute, she was closer to her sealed fate. At last, her mother finished the final touches. The veil was set as well as Gianna¡¯s mind. She thought of her parents and the hard work they had done in raising her. She thought of her friend and the letters they would write to one another due to the distance. Although she was married, she had never felt so lonely. She settled on one thought to help calm her: I will serve my husband just as my mom did for my father and just as my dear friend does for hers. It will not be lavish, but I will live comfortably. And with that thought she set out on the journey to meet her husband.


    ¡­


    Gianna reached the outskirts of the forest of Vales. She was nervous. Who wouldn¡¯t? No carriage would dare travel through such a windy area. No rider would desire to escort her through the cursed forest. Even her husband could not afford such luxury. Her father had thought about travelling with her, but her mother opposed such an arrangement. He was getting older. One fall could risk her mother being a poor widow and Gianna losing her dad. With these concerns it was settled that Gianna would make the trip on foot with a switchblade, some fabrics, and lunch. Pushing her veil out of her face she entered the forest.


    Gianna was met with a gust of cold wind. Goosebumps lined her arms. She did not cease though; she continued trudging past snaking vines, overgrown moss, and old trees. The forest of Vales seemed lively during this time. Gianna could hear rustling and chirping in the distance. As she passed an ant colony, she noted the crumbs they carried on their backs.


    Gianna found herself deep within the forest by noon. She came to an open area where it seemed people may have camped in the past. She dusted off a decent looking log and sat down, pulling out the lunch her mom had packed. Traditional piadina romagnola with a little bit of chestnut flower cake was packed in her carrier. Since being a little girl Gianna had always loved the dish. She enjoyed it with ham and prosciutto. Although it had been a couple of hours since her mother prepared the flatbread still seemed warm to the touch. Taking a few bites Gianna took in the forest around her. The trees swayed in the slight wind. She pulled her long-hooded cape around her; desiring to drown in the fabric.


    To her left she heard a slight, abrupt movement. She turned, setting down the sandwich and slowly hovering her hand over her knife in her pocket. A few yards away was the strangest sight. A rabbit seemed to be circling a snail perched on a log. ¡°Odd,¡± Gianna thought. Who would have thought snails enticed such creatures.


    Gianna used to pride herself on saving any living creature she could. She was never one to kill, skin, and cook the animals on her parents¡¯ farm. Her father knew this well. She had a vivid memory of him yelling at her while she hovered an axe over a chicken¡¯s neck. She swung so hard that she ended up missing, further loosening her grip on the chicken and scaring it away. Her father was furious with her that day. For days that followed she recalled him muttering wishes for sons, for at least they would have mustered the willpower to kill the animal. It is not that she had ever desired to be a man, but she had always felt that her father would have loved her more if she had been born a he.


    In that moment she set down her sandwich and walked towards the rabbit, shewing it away. She then picked up the snail.


    ¡°Strange,¡± she said. As she closely observed the tiny creature, she noticed the spiral of the shell was shifting and moving. The shell was a pale gray, sprinkled with what appeared to be stars. The shell thus appeared to showcase an image of the night sky.


    A voice called out from where she came from. ¡°I would not look any further if I were you, you might see a future you were never intended to see.¡± Gianna whipped her head towards the noise. There, sitting on the same exact log she was sitting at was a woman. Her legs were crossed, and her hand reached for the sandwich Gianna had set down. ¡°Who are you? How did you suddenly appear where I was a moment ago? I did not hear anyone approach me?¡± Gianna inquired, reaching for her knife. ¡°Ah, I have heard that I have such quiet footfall. I did not mean to alarm you. I apologize. My name¡¯s Margery, but I prefer Marg. I simply was answering a distressed call from my friend there.¡±


    ¡°Friend? What friend? It is just us here.¡± Marg then lifted the sandwich up to her mouth and took a small bite. ¡°You don¡¯t mind right?¡± Gianna did mind. ¡°And that. That is my friend. It likes to go by Cosmos though.¡± Marg was pointing at the snail in Gianna¡¯s hand. ¡°This¡­ snail is your friend?¡± Gianna asked inquisitively. ¡°Well, Cosmos likes to act like we are not sometimes. That¡¯s why it ran away you see. You know how friends are.¡±


    ¡°Ah¡­ I see.¡± Gianna did not see. She had heard stories of the interesting people inhabiting parts of the forest, but she had never taken any of those stories to heart. They all came across as wives-tales, exaggerations; fantasies if you will.


    ¡°It seems to like you. Look it is producing mucus in your hand. It took Cosmo weeks to feel comfortable doing such a thing with me.¡± Marg said this with a smile on her face. Gianna could not tell if the twinkle in her eye the result of pure happiness or madness. ¡°Well¡­ I am glad to hear it¡­ I guess. I did not mean to touch your snail. It seemed to be in danger from that rabbit earlier.¡±


    ¡°Nasty things rabbits are. They¡¯re great for stewing up though. And you do not need to apologize. In fact, I should thank you. Cosmos seems tough but is still a snail. Frail little things.¡±


    ¡°If I may ask¡­ how did a snail run away from you? I mean, they are such slow creatures. It just seems a bit¡­¡±


    ¡°Crazy.¡± Marg finished. Their eyes met for a brief second and in that moment, Gianna studied Margery¡¯s features. A soft glow seemed to radiate off her skin. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. Her eyes were the color of sea-foam green, and her hair, wheat blonde. She was dressed in red, standing out against the neutral, earth-tones of the forest. She had chiseled features that made Gianna think that if she were not dressed in such a manner, with such wild long hair, she would be very popular in Gianna¡¯s home village. Gianna had only one word to describe such a person.


    ¡°Gorgeous,¡± Marg blurted out. ¡°Absolutely precious. In all my years of traversing in the forest I have not met a stranger such as yourself. Although, it is strange. Why are you wearing white. It is so easy to get dirty, especially here?¡±


    Gianna felt shy at that moment. ¡°It is how my betrothed desires to see me when I meet him. Carriages cannot make it on such unruly ground, so I must traverse by foot to meet him.¡±


    Marg set the sandwich down on hearing this. ¡°My, my, my, you are to be married but you have not met your fianc¨¦. What a thing. And to take such a route in a place such as this. Are you parents not aware of bride snatching?¡±


    ¡°They are but nothing could be done. It is as you say. I have not met him. Even though that is the case my mother told me that I still must look my best. He did pay a lot for me.¡±


    Marg seemed to frown at this statement. Her hands moved to rest on the log, her fingers tapping impatiently against the wood. ¡°How¡­ lovely¡± she said, not trying to appear rude in front of Gianna. ¡°Well, it is quite dangerous out here. Since you helped Cosmos here I do not mind being your guide for the rest of Vales. As you must have heard there are quite the characters that dwell here¡­ I can say that I am the few you must worry about.¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Gianna seemed surprised by this. ¡°Oh, I could not ask of such from you. I have been fine on my own so far. I am sure I will be able to make it the rest of the way.


    ¡°Nonsense. Besides the first of the forest is not the hard part¡­ beyond the river is where you should worry.¡± Marg¡¯s voice seemed more serious with this statement. Although her sitting position read relaxed the tone of her voice seemed concerned for Gianna. ¡°Look, I do not mind. Besides, I was planning to head that route anyways. There is a patch of mushrooms that grow at the edge of the forest on that side. I have been needing some more for¡­ cooking.¡± She cleared her throat at this. ¡°Just take it as me not being indebted to you. Nothing more, nothing less.¡±


    Gianna briefly thought about this arrangement. She went over to the woman and sat next to her. She set the snail carefully down between the two of them and picked up her sandwich. ¡°Then I am grateful for you.¡± She took a bite of her sandwich and thought about the strange encounter, of the night sky image on the snail, and of the woman next to her. Marg remained seated next to her, waiting patiently for her to finish her sandwich.


    ¡­


    They had been walking for a while when Gianna finally broke the silence. ¡°Do¡­ you notice anything strange about your snail.¡± She wanted to be subtle, so as not to appear strange. What sane person sees a night sky on a snail¡¯s shell. Either the heat of the afternoon traverse had gotten to her, or Marg was not sharing the full truth about herself.


    ¡°Ah, are you referring to what you saw on the shell?¡± Marg said. She had been leading the way through the windy forest, moving away branches, rocks, and other objects to make the trip more bearable for Gianna. Her dress greatly appreciated this, for it had only snagged once.


    Gianna felt as if she would burst due to all the questions she had with this confirmation. ¡°So, you do? What did you mean back there when we first met? Why can¡¯t I look at the shell too long? What will happen? Why the night sky? Am I the only one seeing it? And what I saw? Can you not see the night sky?


    Marg chuckled at Gianna¡¯s eagerness. Her face was scrunched and flushed, seemingly from holding in all those questions. ¡°Hmm, well how should I put this? I technically do not see what you see. I can¡¯t see the night sky on my dear friend¡¯s shell here. And as for why you shouldn¡¯t stare too long, Cosmos here shows the least undesirable future for anyone. In other words, you could say my friend showed you the future that will haunt you the most. Pleasant is it not?¡±


    ¡°Then why is my future the night sky? I found it rather calming to look at,¡± Gianna responded.


    ¡°Hmm maybe it is calming to you now, but sometime, somewhere, maybe in an alternative future, it will not be.


    Gianna was becoming wearier of the person in front of her at this point. She then asked, ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Marg paused briefly, tapping her finger against a tree as she passed it. ¡°One of my past¡­ clients had the same predicament¡­ only they stared to long. What they saw in my little snail friend there ended up being a foreboding image of their last moments on this earth. Cosmos here it quite strong for such a tiny creature.¡±


    Gianna paused, scanning the person in front of her. She took a deep breath, hand hovering over her knife. ¡°Who, no, what are you?¡±


    Marg turned to her, a grin forming. ¡°I am no one of consequence. I will say though, that knife will do you no good. Even if I was in the mood to kill you, I would have done it ages ago.¡±


    Gianna was on high alert at this point. ¡°You did not answer me.¡±


    Marg stepped back from the woman, hands up in defeat. ¡°Look, I was not joking when I said I am one of the only living things not posing you any harm in this forest. And I was being truthful. I am someone of no consequence by your¡­ villages logic.¡±


    Gianna¡¯s eyes squinted at the women. ¡°You¡¯re a witch. That¡¯s why you know this forest and you¡¯re talking to snails. You¡ª¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say anything further. I might pose you any harm by not killing you¡­ but you wouldn¡¯t want me to change my mind if I felt you insulted me in any way. Witches are vindictive, aren¡¯t they? Or I could drop you off at the doorsteps of an elder witch¡­ ¡±


    Gianna backed away. ¡°You¡ªyou wouldn¡¯t. elder witch¡¯s they¡ª¡±


    ¡°Feed off young women¡¯s flesh, especially flesh as supple and beautiful as yours, why yes. Years being called an ugly hag will drive you too such things.¡± Marg said the last sentence while shrugging, as if it was a regular occurrence. ¡°Or I could take you to my own home and feed you to my many snails! Their powers work after feeding only on human flesh!¡±


    Gianna backed too far away. Her foot snagged on a branch. She was about to fall backward when Marg grabbed her arm. Gianna felt horrified, but before she could protest at the touch of a witch, she suddenly witnessed a strange sight. The witch, a being that just threatened to feed her to her bloodthirsty snails was doubled over laughing. It was definitely madness in her eyes, Gianna thought.


    ¡°I really had you going didn¡¯t I! You should have seen your face. I¡¯m¡ªpsshhahaha¡ªI¡¯m sorry. I just couldn¡¯t help myself. You are just so innocent. So fun to tease.¡±


    Gianna found herself stunned at that moment. ¡°Are you¡­ are you not a witch?¡±


    ¡°I am.¡± Margery was wiping tears from her eyes, seemingly elated with the stunt she pulled.


    ¡°Are you not going to feed me to your bloodthirsty snails?¡±


    ¡°Ew, no! Can you imagine? Your blood would stain my floor and I just got them refinished.¡±


    Gianna¡¯s right eyebrow twitched. ¡°But your snails need human meat?¡±


    This statement caused Marg to let out a little snort. ¡°As if! Cosmos is the only special snail that I have. The rest of my snails feed on leaves and flowers. Besides, do you really think you¡¯ll be a worthy meal for my friend?¡± Marg looked Gianna up and down with this statement. ¡°Although, I have some witches that wouldn¡¯t mind taking a bite.¡±


    ¡°Ah-ha! So, you still mean me harm! So, you¡¯re going to feed to the elder witch then!¡±


    ¡°Uh¡­ no. It¡¯s a bit rude don¡¯t you think to believe every older witch wants to feed on you¡­ plus a bit narcissistic¡­ No, Opal is in tune with nature. Really into preserving life or whatever. She¡¯s a pretty good carpenter too. She actually was the one who put in my wood floors for me. If anything, she would force to help with her shop.¡±


    Gianna¡¯s mind was turning at this. ¡°So, you mean me no harm?¡±


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    ¡°And your friends mean me no harm?¡±


    ¡°Bingo.¡±


    ¡°Then¡­ well¡­ hmm but are you not a witch.¡±


    Marg threw up her hands in frustration and let out a deep sigh. ¡°Would I be helping you if I did not?? Do you automatically assume that every witch means you harm?? How prejudiced! Do they not teach you more worthwhile things in school? Like the fact that the earth is not flat?¡±


    ¡°What¡­?¡±


    Marg held her hand to her temple and began pacing in front of Gianna. ¡°Nevermind¡­ well do you have anything else you want to interrogate me on?¡±


    Gianna¡¯s face scrunched in thought. ¡°What powers do you have?? What can you do?? How do I know that you¡¯ll be able to protect me?¡±


    Marg stopped pacing at this and crossed her arms. A look of disgust formed on her face. ¡°You want me to show you, my powers? Why do I have to prove myself. I¡¯m not a monkey. I¡¯m a witch.¡±


    ¡°Ah I¡¯m sorry!¡± Gianna paused, wondering how she should continue. ¡°I¡¯ve just met a witch before.¡±


    ¡°Really! I could not tell!¡± Marg exclaimed sarcastically. She then scanned Gianna once more. Settling her mind, she began. ¡°I am what those who wield and do not wield magic call a hedge witch. I can do simple things like divination, talking with spirits and gods, and even read you your future if you¡¯d like. But I possess a much greater gift, the gift of traveling between plains of existence. If you will, I possess the unique ability of helping people once they¡­ pass on, for I exist in both the spiritual world and this.¡±


    Gianna found her head spinning. Helping people once they pass on? Why does that sound familiar. The woman was racking her brain, trying to decipher the person in front of her. She was familiar with many types of witches, for her pastor had spoken heavily on the topic of dark magic before, but she was unaware that hedge witches could be so powerful. In her biblical teachings they were mentioned to be solitary creature possessed with the gift of clairvoyancy, nothing of speaking with gods or goddesses, nor the dead was mentioned. Gianna looked slowly up at Marg when it suddenly clicked. ¡°You¡¯re death...? As in, you guide people into the afterlife?¡±


    ¡°Spiritual world and more or less¡­ yes. I handle spirits¡­ they are my clients if you will.¡± Marg was watching Gianna intently. ¡°You can sit down if you need to. I understand non-magic users like yourself are not used to such a talk.¡± She found her hand guiding towards Gianna¡¯s at that moment, scared that she would pass out at any second.


    The woman drew her hand away from the witch and turned her head to the right. She paled in the time of Marg telling her who she was. Swaying slightly, she leaned on a tree for support. ¡°You¡ªare you with me right now because I¡¯ll die soon?¡±


    Margery¡¯s eyes raised at this. She stepped toward the women, careful to avoid touching her. Their eyes met. ¡°Your string of life is secure. You have my word. I truly meant it when I said I was grateful for you saving my friend. I am sure you can guess that being the grim reaper does not really allow for you to make many friends.¡±


    Gianna averted the witch¡¯s gaze. She could feel her face getting less pale and more flushed. She also felt the blood return to her legs. ¡°We should get going. We¡¯ll lose daylight if we continue talking like this. I must meet my betrothed soon.¡±


    Marg turned away from Gianna and began walking on the path again. ¡°Very well, Gianna.¡±

 Blinded Man

    They passed the river at half past five. The sun would begin to set soon. Gianna was unsure of how the journey would look now, being that they were entering dangerous territory. Furthermore, she was following Death herself. This had to be bad luck, she thought to herself. It was almost comical. While she was racking her brain over the whole thing, she was even more confused because Marg¡ªno Death¡ªwas so lively despite her job. Most of the trip after they had their spat the witch had been having conversation with Cosmos¡ªthe snail sitting on her shoulder. This all was crazy, down to the personality of Death herself. At least I am almost to my husband, Gianna thought. It will be all right once we meet. I¡¯ll never have to see Marg until, hopefully, years down the path, when I am old and gray.


    The two women continued the path. The sounds of nature surrounded them. It was eerily still. Gianna spoke up. ¡°It is always so quiet here?¡± Marg turned to her, and Gianna noted the gleam slightly fading from her eyes.


    ¡°No¡­ not always.¡± She turned away, continuing to walk forward. ¡°It¡¯s unnervingly quiet today.¡±


    Just then a scream was heard from twenty yards away. The trees were so thick in this section of the forest that it made it hard to see past just ten yards. Suddenly, there was heavy footfall coming right towards them. Marg quickly swung towards Gianna, shifting both of them out of sight from whatever was coming. Taking a mixture of herbs hung from her dress she crushed it up and blew heavy into her palm.


    ¡°What are you¡ª¡± Gianna tried to ask about the weird ritual occurring in front of her, but Marg cut her off.


    ¡°Shh. Relax, it masks our scent.¡±


    A figure ran past them, frantic, panicked and evidently scared. Although they ran past quickly Gianna was able to see that the figure was that of a young man dressed elegantly. He seemed clumsy in his movements. The most horrid thing about him was that his eyes were missing from their sockets. Gianna thought she mistook it at first. No way¡­ She looked at Marg to see a reaction and only saw anger. She was terrified at that moment. They knew each other and Death seemed displeased, no, fuming at what she was witnessing.


    Marg then turned to Gianna, their faces inches from one another. From that distance Gianna could see no lie on the witches¡¯ face. Marg then shifted Gianna behind her.


    ¡°Phillip?¡± She said loudly, trying to get the attention of the young man.


    ¡°Who¡¯s there! Is that you Marg?? Please, gods say it¡¯s you!¡±


    There was a load thud. It sounded like the man tripped a fell. Marg took Gianna¡¯s arm, leading them both to the man¡¯s voice. When they finally reached him, he was pathetically slumped covered in dirt. His hands were feeling the ground around him, clutching anything he could.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m here Phillip. I¡¯m right in front of you.¡±


    ¡°Am I going to die?¡±


    Gianna looked at Marg at that moment seeing a sad look cross the witch¡¯s face. ¡°No, of course not. You know that. I told you you would live a long life.¡±


    ¡°BUT YOU NEVER TOLD ME I WOULD GO BLIND! THAT MY MOTHER-IN-LAW WOULD DO SUCH A THING!¡±


    The air was still. Gianna dared not to move or even look at Marg¡¯s face.


    ¡°No, your right but I did tell to not continue seeing that woman. I told you it would not end well. You know I am unable to tell others the full extent of their fate¡­ That is what the deities demand of me.¡±


    ¡°SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!¡± The man was having a full breakdown at this point. Although his eyes were gauged out Gianna could tell he was sobbing. He had stopped reaching for the ground around him. He just sat there silently.


    ¡°I am sorry Marg. This¡ªthis is not your fault.¡± He stated in a voice seemingly sapped in energy itself.


    Marg stepped forward at this, still weary of reaching out to the man, not wanting him to be frightened by the sudden movement. ¡°I know, I know you are Phillip. You have always been kind. Too kind. I¡¯m going to take a step towards you. Is that okay?¡±


    Phillip now shifted his head to Margery¡¯s voice nodding a brief okay. His voice was very soft and still, cracking slightly. ¡°That is okay. I¡ªI don¡¯t think I should be alone right now.¡±


    Marg took Phillip in her arms, being careful to rest his head on her shoulder. She then looked towards Gianna and smiled sadly.


    ¡°¡­Phillip, I do not want to alarm you, but I have a friend with me. Her name is Gianna. I am her guide.¡±


    Phillip seemed to slump further into Marg¡¯s arms, trying to hide his face the best that he can. ¡°I am sorry for startling you. I am sure my appearance is frightening. I apologize that we must meet in such a manner.¡±


    ¡°No, of course not! I am sorry for not making myself known earlier. You startled me only briefly.¡±


    Marg then helped Phillip to his feet, guiding him ever-so-slightly forward. ¡°We must get you healed up. Your eyes might get infected if you don¡¯t bandage them up soon.¡± Marg then turned to Gianna. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Gianna, we might get to your destination later than I would have hoped. I must drop Phillip off at Opals, she and Amethyst will be able to heal him properly. Their place is on the way.¡±


    Gianna nodded at this and helped Marg carry Phillip. The three talked amongst each other until they came upon Opal and Amethysts residents. It was later in the evening by this time. The sun was beginning to set in the west. Gianna found herself growing more anxious the closer they got to her fianc¨¦¡¯s home. She didn¡¯t want to imagine what she looked right now, especially after carrying a blind, bloody, and dirty man across Vales. She looked over at Marg, who was doing the brunt of the lifting. Her hair was starting to stick to her face. A fresh sheen of sweat coating her skin, giving her a glowing appearance. Her eyes broke away from Marg¡¯s direction when she suddenly heard a door slam in front of her.


    ¡°What the hell happened?!¡± Gianna could see an old woman cut across her porch walking towards them. The old woman was wiping her hands on her apron. ¡°I don¡¯t see you for months and then you come to me with this fool. Bring him here. What happened?! The old women went up to Phillip, taking his face in her hands. ¡°You¡¯re lucky you have such a nice bone structure. You¡¯ll make being blind a whole new fad.¡±Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°¡­Thanks Amethyst.¡± Said Phillip, giving a little smile for the woman.


    ¡°He ran into a nasty¡­ mother-in-law¡­¡± Marg said. Her eyes were fixed on Phillip with worry.


    ¡°Haven¡¯t we all.¡± Amethyst said with a hearty laugh. ¡°And who do we have here?¡± The old woman¡¯s eyes met Gianna¡¯s.


    ¡°This is a friend, Gianna. I¡¯m helping her through Vales.¡± Marg said matter-of-factly.


    ¡°Well, you look like you were dressed in Sunday¡¯s best. Come on in. I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡±


    The four of them made their way into the little cottage. It was quint, Gianna noted, the decorations modest. The kitchen seemed to be in a state. With pots and pans stacked up in the sink, leaning towards the left. Gianna felt that they could topple any second. The living area was small. A fireplace was set in the middle of the room, providing all-around heat. Cushions lined the floor in a scattered manner. Gianna looked to her right as she passed the threshold of the door and saw what appeared to be an altar. Crystals, candles, and trinkets surrounded a humongous thick book. The page the book was opened to read: ¡°Spoons, pots, and stumps and other cooking musts.¡±


    Amethyst cleared a space on the ground and went over to the kitchen. She opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a handful of tools, some of which Gianna had never seen before. As she knelt a door slammed behind them. There, standing in the doorway was another older woman but this one was a lot shorter, pudgier, and Gianna felt, could be a lot meaner. This must be Opal. She thought.


    ¡°Now what do we owe the pleasure Marg?¡± The woman Gianna assumed to be Opal stated while walking towards Marg.


    ¡°Phillip found himself in an awful situation. I figured I¡¯d drop by and visit the best healer in all of Vales.¡±


    ¡°Funny how you didn¡¯t call be the best carpenter when I built you a brand-new floor.¡±


    Marg grinned at this. ¡°You know I hate lying Opal.¡±


    ¡°You¡ª¡± Opal chuckled at this and drew Marg in with a big hug. ¡°You kid are going to be the death of me.¡±


    ¡°Well, I can assure you that¡¯s not the case.¡± Marg said with a wink. She then looked over at Gianna who was standing awkwardly to the side.¡±


    ¡°Opal this is¡ª"


    ¡°Where the hell have you been Opal?¡± Amethyst said, interrupting Marg. ¡°I know you weren¡¯t doing what you were supposed to be doing and helping me out with cooking.¡±


    Opal let out a snort at this. ¡°Are you going senile already Amethyst. The coven needs an extra pair of tools, so I went out and carved them some more.¡±


    ¡°Shut up you old goat. You said that that was supposed to be for tomorrow. You forgot again didn¡¯t you. I told you to write stuff down.¡± Amethyst said jokingly.


    In the time that they were bickering Marg made her way to Gianna. Both were watching the sight. Although Gianna was in these two strangers home, she felt completely at ease. In fact, she felt quite silly about suspecting Opal of eating her flesh to steal her beauty.


    ¡°Quite the sight isn¡¯t it.¡± Marg whispered to Gianna.


    ¡°Who? Phillip?¡± Gianna responded, highly aware of how close Marg was standing next to her.


    ¡°No, the two kooks over there tending to Phillip. Shockingly, they¡¯re like this all the time.¡±


    Gianna turned to her, a slight grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. Before she could stop herself, she replied to Margery, ¡°No, really¡­?¡±


    Marg was taken-aback by this. Her grin seemed to grow and the twinkle in her eyes came back. ¡°Was that a hint of sarcasm? It seems Gianna that I might have rubbed off on you in the short time that we¡¯ve known each other.¡±


    The two of them were interrupted by Opal at that moment. ¡°By the way, when were you going to introduce me to your friend.¡±


    ¡°Her name Gavina.¡± Amethyst said confidently. ¡°She¡¯s taking Marg on a little trip!¡±


    Marg sighed at this. ¡°GIAnna¡­ it¡¯s Gianna. And I¡¯m guiding her through Vales to her betrothed.¡±


    ¡°See I told you¡­ senile.¡± Opal chuckled out.


    Phillip let out a soft groan. The medicine Amethyst was applying seemed to be helping stop the infection. Taking a wet cloth that she had on his eyes, she scanned the wound.


    ¡°It¡¯s better. Won¡¯t be great but at least you won¡¯t look completely unsightly.¡±


    Marg chuckled a bit, trying to lighten the mood. ¡°I¡¯ve seen you look worse after our sparing sessions back when we were younger.¡±


    ¡°You are just the one to crack jokes at a time like this you cynical witch.¡± The man said with a grin, sniveling a little. ¡°You mean the sparring sessions I won?¡±


    Gianna was thoroughly confused at this point. Sparring? Rich clothes? The witch and this stranger knowing each other as children? ¡°Wait are you royalty or something?¡± As the words struck her lips, she looked at the man one more time and his distinct dark brunette hair, jawline, and olive skin. She had heard of stories of a young prince of a neighboring kingdom who had desired to live the life of an honest man in a village. She had not known it was a village near her. Before she could stop herself, she yelled out, ¡°Your Prince Alessandro Phillip! The prince who wanted to live among the pigs!¡±


    ¡°Is that truly my legacy?¡± Phillip said with a chuckle. ¡°And please call me Phillip, I despise the name Alessandro.


    ¡°Heh¡­ I¡¯m starting to like this non-magical girl.¡± Opal laughed out.


    ¡°But if he¡¯s a prince, how do you know him, Marg?¡± Gianna inquired, now looking at the witch.


    ¡°Ah, that is a question¡­¡± Marg said, now the one avoiding eye contact with the woman. ¡°You could say I have lived a full life?¡±


    Phillip laughed at this. ¡°What, my childhood friend is nervous to share secrets of themselves, although your such an open book with those mushrooms of yours.¡±


    Marg quickly turned to Phillip beat red. ¡°Phillip! I¡ª¡±


    Phillip then took hand to his mouth, facing the direction (somewhat) of Gianna. ¡°Child of a famous seer assigned to the palace! Would you believe it? Ran away because her father wanted her to get married and give up her craft.¡± He stated the last sentence with a shrug.


    Gianna peered over at Marg, who was now nervously scratching the back of her neck. ¡°A witch who was once appointed under the royal family. Who would have thought¡­¡± Her mind was in a stumper. Every little thing she had known about witches had been proven false right in front of her. What a strange day.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that shocking¡­¡± The witch frowned, muttering under her breath.


    Phillip snickered at this, along with Opal. Opal shuffled over to Phillip and clapped him on the back, letting out a huge roar of a laugh. ¡°Yeah! Our little unkempt Marg was once an upper-class toffee-nose, dining with the dukes and duchesses. Oh, if your father saw you now!¡± Opal was now keeled over in a fit of giggles.


    Gianna now put a hand to her lips, silently cursing at her comment. ¡°Er, sorry, that came out a bit harsh.¡± She looked again at Marg and saw a crease forming between her eyebrows. The two locked eyes at that moment.


    Marg¡¯s face seemed to ease as the two peered at one another. Pulling her eyes away and letting out a deep sigh, she waved her hand. ¡°Yeah, yeah and when he dies, he¡¯ll probably be turning in his grave every time his name is mentioned in association with mine. Hilarious.¡±

 Asking Questions

    Phillip had been bandaged up by Amethyst and now sat reclined in a rocking chair by the far-off corner of the living room. Although his wounds made him look rather miserable, he still held a wide grin on his face. Gianna couldn¡¯t help but smile in his direction whenever he spoke or cracked a joke.


    ¡°How do you two know each other?¡± Gianna found herself asking Amethyst and Opal.


    ¡°What? Us two?¡± Opal asked, pointing at Amethyst and her. ¡°Well, we met when Amethyst joined our coven. You see Amethyst here used to be farmers wife. As for myself, I have always lived in this forest. My mother was a witch, and her mother before her was a witch. We slowly became friends and from there decided to live together.¡±


    ¡°How long have you two been friends then?¡±


    The two witches got awkward at this question. Opal began shifting in her seat while Amethyst moved towards their kitchen. Picking up a pan and scrubbing it absentmindedly Amethyst began. ¡°We have been partners for many years¡­ 43 to be exact.¡±


    ¡°Oh wow! That¡¯s a long time! What about your husband Amethyst? Why don¡¯t you live with him?¡± Just as Gianna asked, she regretted the question. The two appeared dreadfully awkward now. Opal¡¯s face seemed to grow darker.


    ¡°That old fucker?! I wouldn¡¯t let him within a mile of my Amethyst. He died of a heart attack a couple years back. Good riddance!¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Was all Gianna could muster. She now understood. My Amethyst. The words rang in her head. Not wanting to make things awkward, she quickly turned to Margery. ¡°We should think of heading out.¡±


    Marg and Gianna did not stay long, only the length of time to see Phillip somewhat cleaned up and well.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome to visit us anytime Giovanna; it was wonderful to have you!¡± Amethyst expressed with an endearing smile.


    Opal raised her eyebrow at her partner and shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re doing that on purpose you old coot.¡± She then nodded in Gianna¡¯s direction. ¡°Don¡¯t mind her, she likes to mess with all of us. Rather annoying actually.¡±


    Amethyst pinched the middle of Opal¡¯s arm, causing the carpenter witch to let out a yelp.


    Gianna smiled lightly at the sight and nodded back. ¡°Thank you. It was unfortunate that we met under such events. I am happy to make you acquaintance though.¡±


    Opal let out a snicker and hurled herself at Gianna, pulling her into a burly hug. ¡°What¡¯s with that frosty response! Come on, bring it in!¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Was the only thing Gianna could utter before she was enveloped into Opal¡¯s arms. After the hug she stepped back, rather shy.


    ¡°Cut it out, you¡¯re gonna scare her away with your big meaty frame!¡± Marg yelled out jokingly, nudging Opal in the arm.


    ¡°Who are you calling big and meaty toffee-nose?¡± Opal said with a chuckle. ¡°Make sure you get her there safely you hear me. She¡¯s one of the few non-magical people I can tolerate.¡±


    Marg¡¯s eyebrow raised slightly as she reached for the door handle. Turning it slightly she let out a bit of brisk evening air. Her eyes were bright with determination and confidence. Tilting her head slightly in Gianna¡¯s direction, she beckoned woman to follow her. ¡°How could she not be? No fool would cross Death.¡±


    ***


    The two now were walking in silence. Around them the forest was lively, birds chirping as the evening turned to dusk. Brisk night air swirled around them, covering them in a frigid blanket. The silence was all too abrupt and completely contrasted with the lively household of Amethyst and Opal. In her ventures into the real world who would have thought Gianna¡¯s first acquaintances would be that of witches.


    Marg was yet again trailing in front of her. In hushed words the witch seemed to be gossiping with the snail on her shoulder. Either that or having a heated debate. If Gianna hadn¡¯t already witnessed strange things that day she would have passed out from the shock. But now, in the lively forest of Vales, she was somewhat calmed by the hushed whispers seeping from Margery¡¯s lips. Feeling rather bold she interrupted the witches little ritual.


    ¡°Why¡­ is it that you¡¯re not a man?¡± Gianna silently cursed herself with the awkward question. What a wretched way to start a conversation, she thought.


    Marg inclined her head in Gianna¡¯s direction and let out a brief chuckle. ¡°What an odd question,¡± she bluntly said, not changing her walking pace. ¡°What do you mean?¡±Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°Well, I guess all the stories describe you as a man wearing all black and wielding a scythe. You¡¯re nothing like the tales that are written about you.¡±


    The witch now turned to Gianna. ¡°I have a question to ask you now.¡± Her hand brushed against a tree. Side stepping, she now began leaning on it. ¡°Would you and those who told these stories would have believed them if, let¡¯s say, someone like me ended up being the image of Death.¡±


    Gianna thought about it for a second. It would make a silly story rather than a scary one. She reflected. Who wouldn¡¯t laugh at a woman claiming to be Death carrying around a little snail on her shoulder. Before she could respond Marg continued with her answer.


    ¡°Of course they wouldn¡¯t¡­ so why not make up a tale and spread it around like wildfire. It keeps my identity even more shrouded in mystery don¡¯t you think?¡±


    The woman frowned a little at this. ¡°Then how do people respond when you¡­ when you help them to the spiritual world?¡±


    Marg pushed herself off the tree and began walking again. As she did so she moved sticks and branches out of Gianna¡¯s path. ¡°Well, they usually regard me as some angel.¡± Marg snorted with this statement. ¡°Sometimes begging, but always relieved to see me. To have someone dripping with good looks care for you while you¡¯re clinging on to your last breath. Who wouldn¡¯t let their guard down and become vulnerable?¡± The witch said the last sentence in a playful manner. Gianna rolled her eyes at Margery¡¯s confidence. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡± Marg was now looking at Gianna with a grin.


    Gianna averted her eyes, feeling a blush creeping onto her face. ¡°Whatever.¡±


    A chuckle reverberated out of Margery¡¯s throat. ¡°Relax, I¡¯m joking. Anything else your curious about dear Gianna?¡±


    Gianna could tell Marg was now teasing her. Shrugging it off she began her second question. ¡°How did you grow up with Phillip then if Death is immortal or whatever? What about your father? Why would you leave if your gifts benefitted the kingdom?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm¡­. Well, that¡¯s more than one question.¡± Marg seemed to take a while to respond. As the two walked through the dense forest she finally replied. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll start from the beginning. See, my father has immense skills in clairvoyance. His gifts are renowned across my home kingdom. He had five sons and me, but the only one to receive his gifts was me. Frustrated, he barred me from practicing. You see, women are not allowed to be prophets, let alone step foot in religious temples. So, I was stuck.¡± The witch paused briefly, letting out a sigh. ¡°As I grew so did my magical abilities. When I was 16, I had already surpassed my father in skills. He knew this and had told me it was dark magic that had latched onto me. That once I was cleansed, I would be able to rid myself of such malevolence.¡± Marg seemed to be straining now, her eyebrows creased. ¡°He tried to cleanse me but was unsuccessful. In his frustration he threatened to sell me to a powerful seer in a neighboring town. In my fear I fled. During that time, I remember voices calling to me, beckoning me to the forest of Vales. That¡¯s when I came across Amethyst and Opal¡¯s coven. They had been to ones calling me.¡± The witch stopped in her place and looked to Gianna. ¡°Do you know how a leader of a coven of witches is chosen?¡±


    Gianna scrunched her face. Her lessons seemed so far away and distant at that moment. She was afraid that if she said anything Marg would prove it to be wrong yet again, so she settled for a ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°In covens, a high priestess is appointed when the previous grows too old and weak. The newer priestesses drain the powers of the older ones, sapping their very life force itself. The same goes for me. Eventually I will have someone succeed me and take my power, causing me to grow weaker, and weaker until the day I lie with dust itself. See, technically I am not immortal.¡±


    ¡°That means¡­¡± Gianna was a bit taken-aback. ¡°That the next Grimm will drain you of your powers. That sounds barbaric.¡±


    ¡°But it is the life I crafted. I am aware of my curse Gianna. I am the one who must live with it, am I not?¡± Marg seemed a little sad after saying this. Attempting to smile she continued with her tale. ¡°They were calling out to me so that I could guide their previous priestess to the other side. Much to their dismay they were not expecting a runaway teen to be the one they summoned.¡±


    The two seemed to fall into silence for a brief second. As the air between them seemed to lighten Gianna pressed further. ¡°Did you ever get to meet the other Grimm? The other one who came before you?¡±


    Marg was staring up at the sky now, her eyebrows still creased. She was frowning. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then does that mean that the previous Grimm wasn¡¯t led to the spiritual world. What if their spirit is still roaming around?¡± Gianna seemed to be nervous now, so much so that she didn¡¯t realize that she was tugging on Marg¡¯s sleeve.


    ¡°Impossible. I felt their spiritual power cease the moment I reached my full magical abilities.¡±


    ¡°Then¡­¡± Color seemed to drain from her face. If the previous Grimm had not been guided to the spiritual realm, where did they go?


    Marg patted the top of Gianna¡¯s head at that moment. Letting out a laugh she briefly guided her fingers through the woman hair. ¡°Why look so sad. It¡¯s not that serious. Besides, I¡¯m sure the previous Grimm didn¡¯t need my help to get to the other side.¡±


    The two reached to other side of the forest of Vales. The stars were glimmering in the night sky. As they breached the opening of the forest, the wind picked up. It was through that wind that whispers began to surround them. Whipping around, Gianna could hear the whispers getting louder, penetrating her ear.


    ¡°Turn back.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve reached a house of a murderer.¡±


    ¡°Turn back, I say.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve come to a wrong path.¡±


    ¡°If you enter here, you will never leave.¡±


    Shivers crawled up her arms, goose bumps up her back. She whipped her head in Marg¡¯s direction and the two made eye contact. Both wide eyed they studied their surroundings. Gianna was about to move forward before a voice came close to her ear. She thought she had imagined her hair blowing slightly as the shrill whisper warned her again.


    ¡°The one you came for is not who you think he is.¡±

 Midnight Murder

    *The following content might be triggering for some readers. *


    Ripples of cold air struck Gianna¡¯s face in waves. She could feel herself going numb in terror. She hadn¡¯t realized that she had started shivering. As her eyes became accustomed to the dark around her, she noticed a cabin in the distance with its lights on. Although it would have appeared quite quant in the daytime, she felt threatened by its presence now. Beside her Marg seemed to be pulling out long sticks of grass. It wasn¡¯t until Gianna¡¯s shivering subsided that she realized those long sticks of grass were incense. Marg then whispered into the center of her palm. A small flame was produced from where the witch had whispered into her hand. The flame licked the tips of the incense, dancing across the surface of her palm. A strong, sweet smell reached Gianna¡¯s nose.


    Marg¡¯s voice was low and steady. ¡°Someone is about to die.¡±


    The hair stood on the back of Gianna¡¯s neck, stretching down to her legs. She felt numb. Peering over at Marg she noticed the witches¡¯ hand was clenched over the incense. As she scanned her frame, she couldn¡¯t help but note how her ivory face glowed against the flame. The witches¡¯ eyelashes fluttered ever so slowly as her lips parted.


    Before Gianna could protest Marg glided the incense inches from her body, enveloping her completely in a sweet aroma. As the witch did so her voice rang out in song like tones. She was muttering incantations. ¡°For protection.¡±


    Gianna said nothing in response. Afraid that her voice would waver, she kept it shut tightly. Clenching her jaw, she continued to look upon Margery¡¯s domineering figure; the two now meeting each other¡¯s gazes.


    ¡°We should turn back.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± was all Gianna could muster. Her voice was hoarse, barely audible. ¡°We can¡¯t. Not now.¡±


    After enveloping them both in the scent of protection the two meandered their way closer to the cabin. The two silently made their way through shrubbery and bush, hearing voices as they did so. All male, Gianna thought. A small window was situated near them. Suddenly a loud slam came from inside the cabin. She could feel the weight of her body being pulled down as Marg grabbed her arm. The two hid under the pane of the window shoulder-to-shoulder. She could feel warmth radiating off Marg¡¯s body. Sitting there for a couple of seconds allowed for her heart to calm briefly. The two silently nodded towards each other, slowly inclining themselves to peer into the window.


    Margery covered Gianna¡¯s mouth with her hand before she could let out a scream. There, before the two, was a woman splayed across a large dinner table. Her arms and legs were bound, her mouth gagged. The only noise that came from her were soft whimpers as her thin arms and legs struggled against the binds holding her. Four men glowered down at her, encircling her like vultures to their prey.


    A man¡¯s voice suddenly rang across the length of the cabin. ¡°Unbind her. Take her outside. I don¡¯t want to make a mess where I eat my damn meals.¡± His voice was cold, devoid of any emotion. Gianna thought she would soil herself right then and there.


    The four men unbound the woman. One of them hoisted her up on his shoulder as if she weighed nothing. Her kicks and punches meant nothing to him as he made his way in the two¡¯s direction. She felt glued to the spot in that instance. If it weren¡¯t for Marg, she would have stayed there in front of the window frozen in fear. Gods only know what they would have done to her if they caught her then and there. Instead, she felt Marg pull her yet again and the two hid behind a large oak tree, in a clear shot of whatever scene was about to unfold in front of them.


    The woman was carried outside. A large stone slab was offset beyond the backdoor of the cabin. A large thud reverberated off the stone as the man threw her onto it. Gianna flinched, her hand creeping its way to her mouth as if to allow for no sounds to escape. The woman flayed violently. Her cascading curly brown hair was wild and caked in blood. Before she could pull herself from the stone slab the three other men pinned her. The man, the leader it seemed, lumbered over, carrying a bundle of rope as he did, throwing it in the woman¡¯s direction.


    ¡°Undress her and then tie her.¡±


    The woman¡¯s whimpers bounced off the men¡¯s grunts as they did as the man ordered. Gianna¡¯s breathing quickened while she held the sight. As she glanced in Margery¡¯s direction, she was terrified. Marg was angry, really angry. The witches¡¯ blood-shot eyes pierced daggers into the men¡¯s backs. Although it was now reaching midnight, she could feel the darkness of the night worsen with Marg¡¯s anger. She¡¯ll kill them. She¡¯ll definitely kill them.


    Tears shown in the woman¡¯s eyes and her body seemed to shake in utter fear. Gianna¡¯s heart shattered for her in that instance.


    The moments that unfolded seemed to drag on forever. Gianna had to look away, bringing her hands to her ears. She could feel her own tears starting to stream down her face, could feel bile coating the inside of her mouth. She couldn¡¯t drown out the noises though. The muffled whimpers as the woman tried to fight against each man. The grunts of satisfaction, of utter enjoyment as the men got their fix. She couldn¡¯t remove the image; the image of this woman being defiled. She was shaking. Marg was silent next to her. She hadn¡¯t opened her eyes, but she knew the witch was fuming.


    The leader¡¯s voice rang out after a while. His eerie laughing cutting across the backyard, sending shivers down Gianna¡¯s spine.


    ¡°You can¡¯t blame us¡­¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t blame us¡­¡± The leader repeated. ¡°You see it had to be you. We had someone else picked but they never showed up. You with your innocent face. It had to be you if not her.¡±


    Her. Gianna felt her knees wobble. Before, when they had neared this cabin, a voice had warned her, had told her something. The words rang in her head: The one you came for is not who you think he is. She had come for her fianc¨¦. The voice had told her she was at a murderer¡¯s house, her betrothal¡¯s house. The her he was talking about was her, Gianna. The man, the leader, was Sir Nickols.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Gianna felt like she was about to pass out. Grabbing the nearest thing next to her caused her to grab onto Marg. In that instance she found herself staring yet again at the witch. She did not know what she looked like but if she had to take a guess, probably pathetic.


    Marg steadied her. Leaning forward the witch whispered in her ear. ¡°No sudden movements. We can¡¯t have them finding you. Please, endure it a little bit longer.¡±


    A sudden ¡°thwack¡± came in the direction of the five men. The noise caused the two to swivel their heads. Gianna had wished she hadn¡¯t had looked. That she had kept staring into Marg¡¯s eyes, to get lost in them. The four men were keeping their distance now from the woman. Sir Nickols though had a raised fist and was beating her.


    Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Each hit landed. Blood was dripping its way down the sides of the stone slab, painting the grass below it. The woman was still alive. Gianna could feel bone cracking as Sir Nickols continued to bring his fist down.


    Finally, he stepped back, admiring his work. ¡°Handkerchief,¡± was all he said. One of the men handed him a stark white napkin. Whipping off the blood and pieces of bones delicately Sir Nickols threw the handkerchief on the ground, as if it was a piece of trash. Taking out a blade from his pocket he inched closer to the woman. Grasping the fabric that had been gagging the woman he cut it, ripping it away.


    ¡°I want you to beg.¡±


    Gurgling noises came from the woman, Blood trickled its way down her chin and her neck. Although her face had been pummeled, she was still able to muster a ¡°please.¡±


    ¡°Please,¡± was all she said. Sir Nickols¡¯ face was shrouded in disappointment. Clicking his tongue, he brought down the knife to the woman¡¯s heart. It only took one stab for her body to go limp. Her head nestled upward, toward the night sky as Orion twinkled, looking down upon her.


    It had felt like forever. When Gianna finally felt a tap on her shoulder she was dragged back to reality. Marg was in front of her. She had just witnessed someone¡¯s murder, a murder that was supposed to be her own.


    Gianna was in shock. It did not take her until stepping onto Amethyst and Opal¡¯s porch steps to realize that the two of them had made it back.


    ¡°Good gods! What happened to you two?!¡± Opal had rushed to the front door, sensing people nearing their cabin. ¡°Gianna, you don¡¯t look so good.¡±


    Gianna could see that Marg was slightly shaken up. Her face was paler than normal. The witch looked otherworldly at that moment. Her light blonde hair wild and her eyes that of a raging storm. As for herself, Gianna could imagine that she looked pitiful. She looked down at her torn and muddied gown; a pit formed in her stomach. Oh no. She thought. I might vomit.


    ¡°You have a spare bed, right? Is it alright if Gianna sleeps here for tonight?¡± Marg seemed impatient at that moment.


    ¡°Yes but¡ªwhat happened with her fianc¨¦? Wouldn¡¯t it be better if she stayed at your place?¡±


    Marg was steading Gianna, guiding her through the two old witches¡¯ front door. ¡°Perfect. I will leave her with you. I¡¯ll be back.¡±


    ¡°Now wait just a damn moment!¡± Opal¡¯s wrinkly face scowled at Marg. ¡°You tell me what¡¯s happening right now! You can¡¯t just show up randomly, drop off your disheveled friend, and get up and leave! For gods sakes look at the two of you!!¡± The last sentence came out as a worried plea causing Marg to pause her steps.


    The witches¡¯ eyes shifted to Gianna whose own was looking at her with a lamented expression. Marg was about to speak when Gianna cut in. In a hoarse tone she began, ¡°We have to go back.¡±


    ¡°Gianna¡­¡± Marg shook her head adamantly.


    ¡°WE HAVE TO GO BACK!¡±


    Gianna held a crazed expression. Her curly hair cascaded past her raised shoulders. ¡°We have to¡­¡± Her voice cracked slightly.


    ¡°You can¡¯t go back Gianna. Especially considering¡ª¡±


    Gianna¡¯s hands grasped at Margery¡¯s shoulders. She was shaking all over. Opal was beside herself with confusion and worry.


    ¡°What the hell Marg?¡±


    ¡°Gianna¡¯s fianc¨¦, he.¡± Marg¡¯s eye squinted in pain looking at Gianna¡¯s distraught expression. ¡°I must go back for a soul of a woman. He did things, Opal.¡±


    ¡°He¡­¡± Tears started welling up, a lump forming, Gianna could see the scene before her, the sound of the woman, her mind


    spun in that moment. Her breath was quickening, and she couldn¡¯t control it. Her feet, legs, arms, and hands felt numb.


    ¡°Sit her down! Sit her down!¡± Margery¡¯s eyes were wide-eyed with concern. The two witches guided Gianna to the coach.


    ¡°You¡¯re okay. Just breathe. That¡¯s it. Just breathe.¡± With a hand nested on Gianna¡¯s back and another grasping her arm Margery supported her. Worry shown on the witches¡¯ face.


    As Gianna¡¯s breathing slowed her eyes shifted to the floor. She hated it. She hated that every time she looked away from Marg all she could see was the woman. Gianna¡¯s betrothal smashing in her face with his fists. Her tears streaming down her. ¡°Please.¡± The shaky voice, the pained expression. All of it was burned in Gianna¡¯s mind.


    Opal rose from the coach and went off into the kitchen. The sound of boiling water and glasses clinking filled the space. It didn¡¯t take long for Opal to make a pot of tea and hand a glass to Gianna. ¡°Drink. It will calm you.¡±


    The herbal tea coated her throat. She felt warmth spread across every inch of her body, covering her in a blanket of comfort. Gianna was still shivering. Her breathing had calmed but the tears were still streaming down her tan face, saturating her skin.


    ¡°It looks like she¡¯s going into shock. I¡¯ll get Amethyst. She won¡¯t be able to do much. Hearts are a lot harder to heal than broken bones.¡± Opal left the room, leaving Marg and Gianna alone in the living area. The fire in the fireplace was crackling. Light emitted from the flame cast shadows all around her, making her feel more panicked. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the aroma of burning wood.


    ¡°I can¡¯t stop picturing her Marg. I don¡¯t know what to do. That was supposed to be me. He was waiting for me, but I never came. She died because of me.¡±


    ¡°Stop.¡± Marg¡¯s eyes were downcast toward the wood floor. ¡°Stop. Don¡¯t do that to yourself. You are not to blame. He was the one who¡­¡± Her voice trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.


    Gianna couldn¡¯t help herself from speaking these next words. ¡°Did you know?¡± Her face was buried in her hands now.


    ¡°That that woman would die? No.¡± Margery¡¯s lips were thinned out, her left eyebrow slightly twitching.


    ¡°Are you going back for her¡­ for her soul?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I must go back. Will you be fine?¡±


    No. Gianna thought. I will not be fine. She did not say anything though. She nodded and smiled at Marg, noting the hint of perturbation showing on her face. She did not speak further on the topic. By the time Amethyst and Opal came back into the living room Marg was gone. For the first time in Gianna¡¯s life, she felt alone.


    All the fantasies and dreams that she had of a prince picking her up a cradling her couldn¡¯t amount to the overwhelming desire for her mother¡¯s warmth. She had been foolish to think that a simple marriage would suffice; that she would be alright alone with a man she did not know, in a home she was not familiar with. Was she homesick? Was that what Gianna was feeling? Opal and Amethyst were with her, and she was sure Phillip was close by. Marg had promised to be back as soon as she was done guiding the woman¡¯s soul to the underworld. All these new, kind people and she still felt utterly alone.


    All the weeping had caused her eyes to become heavy with exhaustion. She was finally able to doze off, with the crackling fire dying down next to her.

 Vivid Nightmares

    Gianna was back at Sir Nickols cabin. The crisp night breeze gave her chills. She felt around feeling a hard surface under her. It was a stone slab; she was laying on a stone slab, the same one the woman was murdered on. She heard a door slam and footprints come closer to her. It was Sir Nickols. She looked down at her hands and saw that they were bound. Sir Nickols men followed him, greed and lust shown on their faces. No. It can¡¯t be; I was just at Opal and Amethyst¡¯s cottage. How am I back here?


    Sir Nickols stood before her with a blade in hand. Soundlessly he plunged it into her heart. Taking her shaking hand, she attempted to take the blade out. It wouldn¡¯t budge. The blade seemed stuck in her heart, causing excruciating pain.


    ¡°It should¡¯ve been you¡­ It should¡¯ve been you¡­¡±


    ¡°Why wasn¡¯t it you?¡±


    ¡°You should have been the one to die.¡±


    The voices rose and fell in a disjointed manner. Sir Nickols face, as well as his men, became a blurry mess. Looking down at her chest she could see the knife resting. She tried to speak, to breathe out a cry but found that she could not open her mouth. It was as if her lips were sewed together.


    Too much to her dismay she did find them to be threaded together. Taking her shaking fingers, she slightly pulled on the end of the string. A burst of pain shot through her at that moment. Beads of sweat were falling from her chin and her body was shaking. Finally, she was able to pull the string out, unsewing her mouth.


    Looking down at the blade she quickly and seamlessly pulled it out, letting a gasp out as she did.


    The scenery changed at that moment. She was now standing where Sir Nickols had stood earlier. There was a woman, the same woman as before. Her terrified expression, her exhaustive state. All of it was borne out. As Gianna gazed down at the blade that had been plunged in her she saw it was clean, no blood in sight. She stepped closer to the woman, her cries intensifying. No¡­ No¡­ Don¡¯t make me.


    But it was too late. Gianna¡¯s blade pierced into the woman¡¯s heart. As she felt the life drain from the helpless woman¡¯s body a resounding ¡°please¡± sputtered out of her lips.


    Gianna looked down at her hands, now caked in the woman¡¯s blood. ¡°It can¡¯t be! I did not mean for this to happen!¡± she cried out in anguish. It was too late though. The woman¡¯s limp body was spread across the stone slab. Her curly hair was caked in blood from all the beating she had to endure. Gianna tried to pull the blade out, to save the woman, but it was to no avail.


    She heard a twig snap behind her and whirled around. Sir Nickols was gone, along with his men. Instead, there was a stump with a snail perched on top of it. Gianna slowly made her way to the small creature and picked it up.


    The cosmos. Beautiful stars of the night sky were depicted on the shell. As she looked at back at the woman her face contorted. The night sky. The woman was looking up at the night sky when she died.


    ¡°You might see a future you never intended to see, but a future nonetheless yours.¡± The strange, disembodied voice came from the snail. ¡°It shall come to pass all the same. To the cosmos, back again. A leaf that did not fall will eventually.¡±


    ***


    Gianna woke in a cold sweat. Her breath was hoarse and her mouth dry. She felt bile lining the inside of her throat. Leaping from the bed and stumbling her way about the room, she noticed a small bathroom with a latrine in it. Bending over the toilet she threw up. Her body was shaking all over. Her hands gripped the sides of the bowl as she felt another wave of vomit come out of her.


    Wretched. Completely and utterly wretched. Her hands felt clammy and her head dizzy. The nightmare had felt too real to her. After retching for a while, she sat back, scanning her chest as she did. There, in the dream world, she had felt every inch of that blade piercing her heart, draining her of life. But now there was nothing there, as if she had not dreamed of such a horrible thing at all.


    She shivered, bringing her knees to her chest. As her mind cleared, she realized that she did not know where she was. Oh no¡­ Not another nightmare, she thought. She pinched herself, feeling the sharp pain that it brought on. Good, I am not dreaming after all. Bringing herself up she slowly made her way out the door and into the room she had been sleeping in. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she noticed a stationary desk next to a queen-sized bed. Sitting neatly on that desk was a candle.


    It took a bit for her to find a matchbook and light the candle. As she walked about the room with it in hand she took in her surroundings. Besides the bed and the desk next to it there also was an oak wardrobe and various paintings hung up on the wall. She brought her candlelight closer to them, scanning every detail of the painted canvases. They were of different sizes and lengths. The authors of such paintings must have enjoyed the romantic era, as their strokes were quite light and airy. Some depicted garden scenes, while other young women and children dancing about. One showed two figures, children, in a garden knoll, one of them dressed in an elegant suite and tie, and the other a dirtied white dress. The two seemed to be playing with wooden swords, appearing gleeful as they acted each other. She couldn¡¯t help but feel like she was somewhat familiar with the two children in the painting.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    The painting next to it stood out even more. It was just that of a young woman with various fabrics draped over her naked body. The young woman must have been around nine and ten. Her dark blonde hair was exceedingly long, longer than any hair Gianna had ever seen. Her eyes were light brown, like that of almonds. Hints of red and pink blushed the surface of her cheeks giving her an unusual glow. Gianna would have looked longer but her trance was pulled away by a loud noise.


    A clinking sound came from outside the door, startling Gianna. Steading herself she walked out, candle in hand, and found a long hallway. Walking the stretch of it she became more familiar with her surroundings. This must be Opal and Amethyst¡¯s place. I made it back. She sighed in relief and stepped into the living room. A yelp came from in front of her.


    ¡°Good gods, Gianna! You startled me.¡± Amethyst was in front of her. The two would almost have collided if Amethyst had not seen the light of Gianna¡¯s candle. ¡°What are you doing up? Good gods you look pale. Why don¡¯t you go to bed?¡± Amethyst brought her hand to Gianna, wanting to guide her back to her room.


    ¡°I had a nightmare. I can¡¯t go to sleep now.¡± Gianna pushed the witch¡¯s hand away.


    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry to hear that. Let me make you a cup of tea. Are you hungry?¡±


    Gianna¡¯s stomach grumbled at the thought of food. ¡°Famished,¡± was all she said.


    Amethyst seemed bubbly this morning, bouncing about the kitchen like an excited hare. Her hair was pulled back in a taught braid, showing the roundness of her dark skin and her big hazel brown eyes. Her wide hips swayed back and forth as she hummed a tune. Her hands working tirelessly at kneading dough.


    Gianna was sitting on a bar stool, staring at the witch cook, a tea in hand and a stomach full of porridge. She swung her legs back, humming along with the witch.


    ¡°How did I end up in that bedroom?¡± She brought her lips to the cup of tea as she asked.


    ¡°Marg carried you in there after seeing you passed out on the couch.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Gianna stopped swinging her feet. ¡°Then what about you? Marg must have gotten back late. Why are you up so early?¡±


    Amethyst stopped kneading the dough. Grabbing her rolling pin, she began rolling it out across the kitchen counter. ¡°I couldn¡¯t sleep, just like you.¡± There was a glimmer of sadness in her eyes as she said this. ¡°We all wanted to stay up, especially Phillip.¡±


    ¡°You met Marg when she was 16 right? You all must be very close.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s one way to put it. It is as you say, Marg came to our coven when she was 16. She had no home, she was lost, and desperately confused. Who wouldn¡¯t be? Opal and I had her stay with us. No one would¡¯ve expected Phillip to come trudging after her months later.¡±


    Gianna took another sip of her tea. ¡°So, you took care of them both. Phillip and her¡­ what exactly is their relationship?¡± She tried to keep herself from blushing at this question.


    Amethyst raised her right eyebrow at this. ¡°They grew up together but¡­¡± She paused briefly, unsure whether to continue. ¡°They are half siblings you see... Phillip had learned this after she had run away. He was destined for the throne you see but never wanted it to begin with. Moreover, he had fallen in love.¡±


    Gianna felt her breath hitch with this statement. ¡°Half-siblings?...¡±


    ¡°His mother, Queen Ann of Austria, had an affair with Margery¡¯s father. It wasn¡¯t the only scandal unveiled within the gates of Versailles, but it was one that severed the relationship between Ann and Louis, Phillip¡¯s father. You see, Phillip, having many vengeful and arrogant siblings, felt out of place, and moreover, without a friend. Ann, seeing this, and having such a close relationship with Margery¡¯s father, made Marg and him playmates early on. They¡¯ve known each other for a very long time. I¡¯m not sure if you have any siblings, let alone friends like that, but they could not part with each other. Phillip could not part with Margery. They may be royalty, they may have been well fed, but both came from ruthless family backgrounds. They survived together¡­¡±


    Gianna was quiet for a second. ¡°Then the one he loves?...¡±


    ¡°Ah, now that is a different tale entirely.¡± Amethyst seemed giddy now. ¡°You see, it happened when Phillip had reached the age of five and ten. He had gone out horse riding one day with Margery. The two were having an intense race when he suddenly got lost. Coming to an open area he discovered a tall, cobblestone tower. Not only that but he heard someone singing, a woman singing. Taken aback he went to the tower and called out to the person. Seeing a beautiful woman peeking out her head he became shy and rode off, only to come back the next day around the same time. From then on, he went horse-back riding on a regular basis.¡±


    ¡°So, she¡¯s the one he fell in love with? Did she feel the same?¡±


    ¡°That¡­¡± Amethyst trailed off, hearing a distant sound of someone shuffling their feet.


    ¡°Of course she does.¡± Phillip had his hand up, supporting himself against the wall. A cloth was wrapped around his eye sockets, blood soaking through them. ¡°Who wouldn¡¯t? Look at me.¡± Although he joked Gianna could tell he was dejected.


    ¡°Good grief Phillip, how is it soaking through again?!¡± Amethyst rushed over, taking her hands caked in flower and cradling Phillips cheeks in them.


    ¡°Ah! Could you not?! You are going to cause an infection with those dirty hands of yours.¡±


    Amethyst slapped the back of his head, surprising Gianna. ¡°You boy! You¡¯re the one not taking the medicine, aren¡¯t you?! Come here, what am I to do with you?¡±


    Gianna felt a twinge of pain seeing Amethyst cradle Phillip¡¯s cheek. Ah¡­ She thought. I miss mom.

 Handsome Prince

    The following days were slow. Gianna found herself going from her bedroom to the kitchen, and back to the bedroom. She did not mean to look dreadful, but she couldn¡¯t help but find herself in a slump. Marg tried her best to console her during this time, as with Amethyst and Opal. One evening, while working through a stitch Opal had gifted her, a knock came from her bedroom door. It was Phillip. He was wearing a loose-fitting off-white shirt with deep blue slacks. He was the definition of ¡®princely¡¯ in such attire, minus the bandages covering his gauged-out eyes. A cane, one carved out by Opal, was in his palm, allowing him to walk about better.


    ¡°Are you busy? Can I come in?¡±


    Gianna set down her stitch and got up quickly, lacing her arm around his and guiding him to her bed. ¡°I was just working with my needle and thread.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± he replied. ¡°Can I feel it?¡±


    She took out the needle and guided his hand over her work. ¡°How is it?¡±


    ¡°It feels like a stitch.¡± He chuckled slightly. ¡°I didn¡¯t know what I was expecting from feeling it. I truly can¡¯t tell what it looks like.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay¡­¡± Gianna said. ¡°I¡¯m attempting to stitch out the night sky.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ then was that the stars I was feeling?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s Orion¡¯s belt.¡±


    ¡°You like the constellation?¡± he asked, feeling the stitch once more.


    ¡°Not particularly¡­¡± Gianna muttered. ¡°It¡¯s ones of the one¡¯s I¡¯m most familiar with is all.¡±


    There was a brief pause between the two before Phillip spoke up again. ¡°Opal and Amethyst have gone to meet with their coven. I¡¯m utterly bored.¡±


    ¡°Where Marg?¡±


    A faint smile etched across Phillip¡¯s face. ¡°Working.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­¡±


    She did not need more of a hint as to what Margery was doing. She was Death after all. Going about collecting souls and talking with the gods was her specialty.


    ¡°She¡¯s been distant.¡± Phillips smile darkened slightly with this comment. ¡°I¡¯m not sure¡­ I¡¯m not sure whether it¡¯s just with me but I feel like she blames herself for this.¡± His hands went to the bandages covering his eyes. ¡°Although she told me that the gods specifically told her not to speak of the future with anyone when she first saw me¡­ She came by my room the other night. She said something to the extent of ¡®I¡¯m sorry that I could not warn you; that I was cowardice in not telling you¡¯.¡±


    Gianna turned her stitch in hand. ¡°I am sure she was just feeling guilty.¡±


    ¡°I could not see her face, but I know she was on the verge of tears. I think what happened with you and her that night shook her up¡­¡±


    Gianna paused at this, her eyes reddening slightly. She remembered how angry Marg was that night. How frustrated she was in not being able to do anything. Gianna couldn¡¯t help but feel like although the witch left the grasps of her father, the tasks as Death are just as, if not more constraining.


    ¡°She must feel like she is partially to blame¡­¡±


    ¡°But she¡¯s not!¡± Phillips face was reddening in anger now. ¡°I just wish that she would talk to me more! She just shuts down sometimes without a warning. Have the two of you spoken?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Gianna fumbled over her words. ¡°We haven¡¯t. She brings by flowers from her garden on occasion but¡­ I haven¡¯t done my best in talking with her.¡±


    Phillip let out a long sigh. ¡°Utterly ridiculous. The two of you have to talk. It¡¯s getting quite awkward with the two of you avoiding each other, especially you to her.¡±


    ¡°I am not¡ª¡± Gianna cut herself off. Phillip was right; she had been avoiding Marg in the past couple of days. She knew deep down that it was not Margery¡¯s fault for what happened that night. That Marg had not only saved her but later guided that woman¡¯s lost soul, ensuring its protection. She knew all of this and yet she still found herself upset. Upset that Marg couldn¡¯t save the woman and instead followed through with her death because the gods commanded it. All of this she knew. Gianna knew not to blame Marg; to instead console her, but she still couldn¡¯t bring herself to do it.


    That, and the fact that ever since she had learned the truth of her betrothal, as well as running away from a marriage that was thrust upon her, she¡¯s felt¡­ relief. She couldn¡¯t pin-point it at first, the feeling, but knowing that she is not to marry him, and further ran away from the marriage, was tantalizing. It¡¯s what has made her feel even more wretched, the fact that she was able to get away safe, and further, live a life now of her choosing. Marg reminds her of this every time she lays her eyes on the woman. It''s strange. This friendship with the witch is nothing like her best friend at home. She feels almost breathless with her around.


    Phillip pulled her out of her many thoughts though. ¡°Sorry, I should not insert myself. I just am worried for Marg. We¡¯ve been so close for the longest time.¡±


    ¡°Has she said anything¡­ about that night¡­ to you?¡± Gianna asked.


    ¡°No, like I said, she¡¯s said very little to me recently about a lot of things.¡±


    Gianna tried to calm down her shaky hands. If only it was easy to talk about. She thought. ¡°Was it you that painted these pictures in here?¡± Gianna asked to change the conversation.


    ¡°I¡ªYes. They¡¯re oil paintings of places most dear to me. I wish that I could still see them, that I could still skim over each brush stroke that I had once made. It¡¯s a good thing though, being blind. I can¡¯t pick apart my artwork anymore.¡±


    Gianna let out a soft chuckle as Phillip tilted his head back, a mischievous smile showing on his face.


    ¡°The one with the two young children; that¡¯s you and Marg is it not?¡±


    ¡°When we were living in the castle, yes. We used to play outside so much. My mother would yell at both of us for getting our nice clothes dirty. Marg loved digging up all types of creatures, from worms to centipedes.¡± Phillip let out a hearty chuckle while recounting his memories. ¡°I hated it. I absolutely hate insects. Terrified. She loves them though. The creepier the better for her. She was quite the rambunctious sort, sneaking them in and hiding them in her brothers¡¯ beds after they insulted her. I was always at odds with my siblings, same with her. We related to each other in that manner.¡±


    Gianna was smiling now. Leaning towards Phillip she asked, ¡°And the blonde woman? Who is she?¡±


    Phillips faced saddened at the question. ¡°She is the one I love. My North Star.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°But you already knew that didn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I might have guessed it¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how much Amethyst told you about us but yes, I visited her for many years. She has a beautiful voice, one gifted by the gods themselves. She would sing to me for hours while I painted. Our joys were shared, so much so that they became a part of us. Me with her singing and her with my art.¡± Phillip stood, striking his cane on the floor. His hands feeling around the wall for the painting. ¡°She is the most beautiful woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I love her long hair and the way it tumbles about her shoulders, and the way her eyes crease when she laughs. Smart, gorgeous, and utterly perfect.¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Gianna had followed him and took his hand in hers, guiding it towards the painting. His rough palm scrapped across the surface, lingering over the woman¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°You¡¯re probably wondering how¡ªhow I came to be blind.¡± There was a brief pause. Gianna caught her breathe in anticipation. ¡°I¡ªI won¡¯t say much on the matter, only that we had planned to be married, to run away. Her mother had other plans though.¡±


    ¡°So, when you joked about a nasty mother-in-law¡­?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Gianna, she did this to me.¡±


    Silence fell over the room as Gianna took in this news. How could a person do such a thing? How could a mother do such a thing as the person her child most cares about? It was impossible to wrap her brain around such a thing, but so was witnessing her betrothed murder a woman.


    ¡°I had heard of stories of the ¡®Forest of Vales¡¯, of the many treacherous and horrible acts done to people who travel through it. When I was little, I was told that I should never run away, for a witch would snatch me up and drag me through the forest and to her cabin where she would feast on my flesh. All the children were told this. Fairy tales that stuck with me, but those stories too.¡±


    Phillip was now attempting his way back to her bed. ¡°My mother had read me stories of princes, or them slaying dragons to save the princess. She had lined my bookshelves with such stories. It pained me for a long time to read them. To read them just as fairy tales, to see myself in the characters but never able to live as one of them¡­¡±


    ¡°But you are a prince, just not one who slays dragons,¡± Gianna joked, nudging him a bit.


    Phillip let out a deep sigh at this statement. ¡°I studied each of those pages. Lived in the fantasy vividly for a long time. I lied to you Gianna. In the painting, it¡¯s a lie.¡±


    Gianna¡¯s face contorted in confusion at this.


    ¡°I always painted that of which made me happy. I also painted that of which I wished would have been. I was never allowed to wear suits and trousers as a kid. I was never allowed to practice sword-fighting alongside my many brothers. That¡¯s why Marg went ahead and taught me herself. I learned painting instead with my sisters, spent my time playing piano. Marg and I¡­ her with her magic and me with my¡­ we both felt different, like we did not belong.¡±


    ¡°I had read a fairy tale, one in which stuck with me. It was a story of a prince who held a curse of looking like a pig. His appearance, his face, his body, all pig like. He had gone to his parents in hopes of having them find a suitable match for him. Woman after woman ran away from him after seeing his face. He became so dejected. Unbeknownst to him was that the curse of his pig form would be lifted after he found his true love. After a fateful meeting with a beautiful woman, who shockingly agreed to marrying him, he finally was able to shed his pigskin and live a life of a handsome prince.¡±


    ¡°I read that story over and over as a child, wanting, wishing for my¡­ to become the prince I so desperately wanted to be. Being someone forced into frolics and dresses, having their hair done up and braided, looking upon my body in shame and disgust. All of it. I have felt it all.¡±


    Phillip said all this with a pained expression. As Gianna sauntered over to him, she took his cheek in her hand. ¡°You are¡ªyou were and always have been a handsome prince. From the time I first saw you I thought that.¡±


    Phillip chuckled at this taking Gianna¡¯s hand in his. ¡°Even with these dreadful bandages on my face?¡±


    ¡°I think they add character, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Both were laughing now. The air around them was lifting. It seemed less harsh, softer, and lighter.


    A creak came from the doorway, startling the two.


    ¡°Sorry, did not mean to interrupt.¡± Marg was standing there awkwardly. She seemed out of breath, her hair wilder than usual. ¡°Thought I might stop by and drop these off.¡± Orchids, lilies, and rosemary all tied together with thread were being held in her hand. ¡°I¡¯ll come back later.¡±


    Phillip quickly shot up from the bed. ¡°Nonsense.¡± His cane struck the wood floor awkwardly. ¡°We were just finishing up, weren¡¯t we Gianna.¡± He made his way to Marg, fumbling as he did so and clapped her hard on the shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll be off now. See to it that you put those in water.¡± He cleared his throat and said his brief goodbyes to Gianna, shutting the door behind him as he did.


    ¡°I¡ª¡±


    ¡°Sorry¡ª¡±


    ¡°You go first.¡± Marg said, going to the desk as she did so.


    ¡°No, you go ahead,¡± Gianna responded awkwardly.


    ¡°I just wanted to drop these off. My orchids are blooming nicely and thought that you¡­¡± She cleared her throat. ¡°That they would liven up Opal and Amethyst¡¯s place. I got them some too.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Gianna was now blushing. Foolish. I thought she got them for me at first. ¡°Thank you. They are very pretty.¡±


    Silence fell between the two. Gianna found herself struggling to further the conversation.


    ¡°The stitch.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°The stitch.¡± Marg pointed at the needle and thread in her lap. ¡°How is it coming along?¡±


    ¡°Fine¡­ Fine¡­ it¡¯s not the best but I was never really good at it.¡±


    ¡°Did your mom make you learn it? Mine was quite annoying about it, that, and piano lessons.¡±


    ¡°Yeah!¡± Gianna let out a soft chuckle at that. ¡°Mine was unbearable about it. Saying that I¡¯ll need to learn how to do it for ¡®when I live on my own¡¯. Her fingers were always covered in bandages in how much sewing she did.¡±


    ¡°Really? Mine never said that, only that I prepare for if (or when) I ever find myself making my own clothes. She was more of a soothsayer than my dad was.¡±


    Marg was smiling now. The tension that seemed to be surrounding the two dissipated a bit.


    ¡°What about yours?¡± Marg asked, now walking towards Gianna, and sitting beside her. ¡°Are yours as bandaged and pricked as you moms.¡±


    ¡°I¡ª¡± Before Gianna could stop it Marg had her hand in hers, inspecting the fine details of her palm.


    ¡°Oh. I guess you listened to your mom then. They are quite damaged.¡±


    Gianna could see a faint tan where the sun had kissed Margery¡¯s cheeks and shoulders. Where it had danced on top of her arms and forehead. Marg¡¯s face seemed to be glistening, making Gianna¡¯s face heat up. Looking down at her hands that were now intertwined with the witches she turned them over. She was now the one analyzing them.


    ¡°Yours are long a slim. Soft and delicate. I am almost skeptical that you¡¯ve ever held a needle and thread ever.¡±


    ¡°What are you trying to say?¡± Marg was now gleefully laughing. ¡°I not only have stitched but I garden and sometimes help Opal with her woodwork. They are not so dainty as you may assume them to be!¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a bad thing.¡± Gianna responded. ¡°You played piano, right? No wonder, you have perfect hands for the instrument.¡±


    Marg cleared her throat. When Gianna went to look back up at her face, she could have sworn she saw a faint blush forming.


    ¡°I still play.¡± She took Gianna¡¯s hands in hers and started analyzing them again, looking at the deep creases of the palm. ¡°Have you ever had your palm read?¡±


    ¡°No, I was afraid of witches before I met you¡­ Of course, I wouldn¡¯t have had my palm read before.¡±


    Marg let out another faint chuckle at this comment. ¡°You have short fingers and a very square palm. This tells me that you are both practical and grounded, but can often find yourself wrapped up in your immediate surroundings and realities.¡± Marg continued to sketch out each crease of Gianna¡¯s palm. ¡°You have breaks in you ¡®head line¡¯, right here.¡± She points to the line closest to Gianna¡¯s fingers.


    ¡°In other words, you are experiencing a break in your initial thought about something, or someone. As for here.¡± She then points to the crease below it. ¡°Your ¡®life line¡¯ is quite long, telling me that you¡¯re not used to being such an independent person. And your ¡®fate line¡¯, the line at the center of your palm, reveals major shifts in your life. Yours is short and shaky. It might be that you¡¯ve already experienced a major shift in your life, or it has yet to happen. Lastly,¡± Her fingertip rests on a crease furthest away from the pinky. ¡°The ¡®sun line¡¯ is crossed with your ¡®fate line¡¯, which says that external forces play a huge role in your future.¡±


    ¡°It varies though.¡± Marg shrugged her shoulders. ¡°I¡¯ve been told that both palms need to be read for accuracy, rather than just one.¡±


    ¡°Then¡­ what does yours say about you?¡±


    Marg thought for a second about Gianna¡¯s question. ¡°I am not sure the rules of reading your own palm. Mine is probably similar to yours in that there are a lot of external forces playing a role in my life.¡±


    ¡°But what about your ¡®fate line¡¯, its separated by you ¡®sun line¡¯.¡± Gianna brought it up for Marg to see. ¡°What does that mean.¡±


    ¡°Ah¡­ it means that ones with this type of crease, they have an independent fate, separate of outside influences.¡±


    Gianna shifted next to Marg, stealing a look in her direction. She could hear the faint cynicism that laced itself into what Marg said next.


    ¡°Though palm reading is unreliable. How silly to think one like me can live independently, not bound to others. Not tied down by certainties.¡±


    Marg let go of Gianna¡¯s hands in that instance. ¡°Yours though, you have an interesting palm there.¡± An ingenuine chuckle left her lips.


    ¡°I would like to visit you house.¡± Gianna said abruptly.


    Marg sputtered out an, ¡°I¡ªI¡¯m sorry?¡±


    ¡°Your house, er, cabin; I would like to see it.¡±


    The witch seemed taken by surprise at the sudden demand but nodded, nonetheless. ¡°Then I¡¯ll take you there.¡±