8 Years Ago
A strikingly beautiful, dark-haired woman sits silently in the shadows, as unmoving as a statue, while the young girl beside her settles down for the night on the chaise lounge. The woman, whose name is Areon, smiles patiently as her eight-year-old daughter asks for her favourite bedtime story to be told. Will she ever grow tired of it? Areon asks herself. She sighs quietly, stares wistfully into the distance for a moment, moonlight briefly illuminating her delicate features, and then begins her tale:
“Fate often chooses those among us best equipped for the task, though they tend to be the least suspecting. This was true for a young elf by the name of Haldin. One day eight years ago, he set off from his home in the great elven city of Medina, on the coast of Sol’Ilias. His destination was the temple of the Sun God at Sol’Riath, many miles into the forest that bordered his home. Little did he know that his journey would change his life forever.
The first few days passed uneventfully and, as he was an elf, he travelled fast and far and was a long way from Medina when he saw it. ‘It’ was a bird – a snow goose – rapidly descending towards the treetops, clearly in distress. His first thought was to ask why a snow goose would be this far south; his second was to help the poor creature. He ran to where he judged the goose to have landed and his gaze fell to where it should have been, but instead of a goose, Haldin looked upon the slender figure of an unconscious young woman. Her hair was a tasselled raven black and her skin was almost pure white. Realising her complexion was this way because she must be injured, Haldin rushed forward, intending to heal her.
He knelt beside the women and moved her hair out of the way so that he could check her pulse. His hand froze mid-motion and he gazed in horror at the blue topaz pendant on a delicate silver chain around her neck.
The woman was a witch.
It all made sense now. Witches came from the far north and could transform into certain birds for flight – that would explain the snow goose he had seen. The topaz necklace was her heart-stone – a gem worn by witches to store their excess magic within, or at least, that was what he had been taught they were for.
But what is a witch doing here? Haldin asked himself, they were exiled from these lands millennia ago.
Haldin knew he should leave her – if he was ever discovered associating with a witch then he would be banished from his homeland and his family would suffer great dishonour – elves and witches loathed each other. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t leave her, not with the knowledge that she’d die soon if he didn’t help her.
Sighing, he shook his head. ‘Why me?’ he asked the surrounding forest but received no answer, not that he’d expected any. The witch stirred slightly, bringing his current situation crashing back to him and shocking him out of his reverie. But he had made up his mind. He would heal the witch and once she was conscious again he’d point her back to where she came from and then continue on his journey to Sol’Riath.
He slowly stood up, leaving the witch where she’d fallen, and began searching for somewhere that he could heal her, preferably with a fresh water supply. He was in luck; within minutes he came upon a sheltered glade with a clear spring bubbling up from under the ground. The cheerful gurgle of the spring, mingled with the melodic chirping of the bird, created a relaxing atmosphere. This was the perfect place.
Returning to the witch, Haldin gently picked her up, careful not to touch her heart-stone, and moved her to his chosen site.
Over the next few days Haldin tended to her wounds and watched over her as she slipped in and out of consciousness. On the fourth day after he had found her, the witch woke up. She was still weak from her injuries and struggled to sit up. Haldin moved forward to offer her a hand, fully expecting her to reject it, but to his surprised she grasped it firmly. His skin tingled where she touched him and for the first time he gazed into her eyes. They were a startling azure blue and wide with fright – she’d just recognised which race he belonged to.
She collapsed from exhaustion and alarm, her legs giving way beneath her, but Haldin rushed forward and grabbed her just before she hit the ground. Only now did he realise how small and fragile she was compared to him. She was trembling with fear so he hastily placed her on the soft forest floor and moved back a couple of paces.
The witch surveyed him shakily and stammered, ‘Are you the one that healed me?’
‘Yes…’ Haldin replied, uncertain where this conversation was leading.
‘But why?’ The witch looked confused.
‘I…I don’t know. Because I couldn’t leave you to die, I suppose.’ At first Haldin was perplexed by the witch’s behaviour and then comprehension dawned on him. She couldn’t understand why he’d helped her; it was unheard of and she’d probably been taught that all elves were treacherous, back-stabbers. However, this was just another one of the lies told by the Elders to keep the feud between witches and elves alive.
A mixture of emotions crossed the witch’s face, ending in slight relief – he wouldn’t have healed her if he were going to kill her. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.
Her gentle voice sent shivers down Haldin’s spine and made his heart race, though he didn’t know why. ‘You’re very welcome,’ he managed to say after calming his heartbeat, ‘but who are you?’
After a seconds hesitation she said, ‘I cannot tell you my name or where I come from, but know this – I am a White Witch of the Pelara clan, a friend to those of the Light, but who are you?’
A White Witch! thought Haldin, but that still doesn’t explain why she’s here.
‘I am Prince Haldin of Medina,’ he replied in mock formal tones, a slight smile playing across his lips. ‘Please, tell me how you come to be so far south, even for one of the White?’ The witch sighed and pulled her legs in towards her body, leaning against the enormous trunk of one of the ancient oak trees in the clearing.
‘I come to be here because I ran away. Away from my family, away from my responsibilities…away from my life.’ She lowered her eyes and waited for him to question her further. When no reply came she looked up and met his eyes.
‘I know what the weight of responsibility feels like and I bear it everyday, though I wish I didn’t have to,’ Haldin said solemnly. Silence descended over them and the witch found herself inspecting Haldin.
He was tall but with a graceful elegance all elves possessed. His flaxen hair looked golden in the sunlight streaming through the canopy and his eyes were a deep emerald green that seemed to sparkle with vitality. His skin almost glowed and his sharply pointing ears completed the elven effect. The witch smiled secretly to herself, taking comfort from the fact that she was still alive and feeling better than ever, despite the fact she was still very weak.
The next few days passed in a blur. The only thing Haldin remembered about them were the long conversations with the witch-girl, how she seemed much more interesting than any of the elvish women he had met, and how he could gaze at her for hours without growing tired of it. He realized, with a shock, that he was falling in love. Unknown to him, the witch felt exactly the same way.
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All thought of Sol’Riath had fled from Haldin’s mind and it was now weeks since he should have arrived. During the time since meeting the witch he had learnt a lot more about her, but she still refused to tell him her name. Even when he promised her anything she wanted in return for this knowledge, she still declined him. Frustration built up within him until he finally couldn’t take it anymore.
‘Why will you not tell me your name?’ demanded Haldin.
‘Because it is not yet the right time.’ The same reply as every other time he had asked.
‘Well, when is the right time?’ said Haldin through clenched teeth; he was becoming irritated with her riddles now.
‘I do not know,’ the witch said, not meeting his eyes.
‘You don’t know?’ he almost shouted with exasperation.
‘No.’
‘Why do you do this to me? I saved your life, I’ve cared for you since then! Am I not worthy enough to know this simple detail or do you just hate me?’ he seethed.
‘No, I do not hate you,’ snapped the witch, quickly becoming infuriated by his accusations. Her heart-stone was glowing an angry red now.
‘Yes you do! You must do or you would tell me!’
‘I don’t hate you, I love you!’ cried the witch as tears streamed down her face.
Haldin bit back a retort as comprehension of what she’d just said dawned on him. A giddy smile spread slowly across his face and his heart filled with so much joy that he felt it would burst. Lost for words, he enveloped her in his arms and held her close to him.
‘I love you too’ he replied simply, and kissed her.
Haldin smiled tenderly and knew that nothing else is his life would compare to this. He loved her, and she loved him, and that was all that mattered in the world.
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A week later, Haldin asked the witch to accompany him to Sol’Riath and from there, back to Medina. The witch would have liked nothing more than to stay by his side for the rest of her life but she knew that their cultures would never allow it. The only way they could be together was if they became exiles and she would not do that to Haldin – he loved his family and his old life too much. There was only one thing to do.
That night, while Haldin was sleeping, the witch gathered together her few belongings, gently kissed him on the cheek, and soared into the air. Once above the canopy she transformed into a snow goose and looked back down, one last time.
He looks so peaceful, she thought sadly, but then emotion overwhelmed her and, choking back a sob, the witch turned her eyes to the heavens and began her long journey back to her homeland. She never saw the elf again.
Just under 9 months later the witch gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. She had elf-like ears, just like her father, and raven black hair, just like her mother.”
As Areon finishes the story, a single tear runs down her pale cheek. Wiping it away, she looks towards her daughter, who must have fallen asleep just before the ending. She smiles and gently tucks her daughter’s raven black hair behind her slightly pointed ear.
