Snowfall (Part 3)

Love, Darkness, Night, Tree, Shadow

He stopped before the tower, gazing up into eyes he couldn’t see, but knew were there. I swung off his horse and went to the door. With a few slashed of his sword and kicks with his boots, he broke his way in. A spiral staircase stood in the dim light and he made his way upwards.

She had seen him riding up then stopping at the foot of the tower. Frightened, she had stepped away from the window, but hadn’t been able to stop herself from peering out at him still. the noise from breaking down the door had sent her rushing to her bed. She threw the sheets around her, feeling safer now she was hidden.

He came to another door and hacked his way through. The chamber he burst into appeared empty and messing. There was a scattering of clothes and bedding on the floor. Books and toys stacked in corners and candle light flicking on cold stone walls. He breathed deeply and thought he saw a heap of bedding moving.

She could no loner hold her rapid breathing steady, nor keep the sheets from shifting above her head. She heard footsteps then felt something pulling everything off her. Her fingers dug into the bed as the last of her cover was removed. She looked up, blinking away small tears.

He stared down at her. His breath snatched away, his body frozen. The stories had been right. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Catching the fear in her eyes, he slotted his sword away and speaking gently, told her he wouldn’t hurt her and he’d come to rescue her.

She didn’t believe the words she was hearing. Clutching what sheets she could to her, she stared up at him. Noting so much in his face and body. He was a worthy knight. She swallowed, but couldn’t form the words.

He held out his hand, promising to take her far away.

Slowly, she put her hand in his.

Snowfall

Blizzard, Winter Storm, Snowflakes, Cold, Icy, Snow

She watched the snowfall from the top of her tower whilst she awaited a knight to rescue her.

Wishing Well

The Wishing Well

 

Lost Princess Ashling Glamourlance, Sovereign of the Twilight Swamps beheld Ravens Wishing Well. She breathed a sigh of relief and pushed the last of the tree branches away. Stepping into the small clearing, she brushed down her body covering black dress. Autumn leaves, twigs and dirt clung to the frilly layers of the skirt and patches of dried blood stained the bodice. Her knee length boots were also mud splattered.

A soft, almost worried neighing came from behind her. Turning, she encouraged the Midnight Stallion, Thorn, to come forward. The mighty horse shied away, stamping the soft soil and shaking his head. Ashling stopped and debated going over to him. However, it didn’t seem worth using up the last of her energy to force the stallion onwards.

‘Stay there,’ she called to him.

Thorn lowered his head and fall silent. Ashling turned back and walked over to the Wishing Well. The circle of grey stones was moss covered and the water rising to the brim lapped against the sides, seemingly by its own force, as there was no wind in the clearing. Ashling peered into those depths. A single red leaf floated on the surface, creating small ripples. She put her hands on the cold stone and leant in further, but she could not see anything.

A twittering noise and flipping of wings caused her to look up. A small regal finch had landed opposite. It regarded her black eyes and then looked into the water. She looked down again and started to recite the spell she had memorized.

‘Oh, Wishing Well of Ravens old, listen to my tale upon this moonlit eve. Save me from this haunting fate that I desire no more. Take away this curse, so cruelly cast at birth and let me survive this dying light.’

The leaf bobbed and caused larger ripples. Ashling held her breath and kept her eyes on the water. Nothing else seemed to happen. Her fingers grabbed the stone tightly, going numb. At last she let go of the breath and gulp down cold air. Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes, but she kept them on the water.

‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘I do not want to die this night. My people need me still and there is no one left to protect them. How can this be the will of the Gods? I’ve done everything that was asked of me. Please, grant me this one wish.’

Thorn neighed loudly in a definite warning and clopped over to her. He nuzzled her shoulder and went to put his nose into the water. Ashling caught him and pulled him back.

‘No. None must drink from the Enchanted Well,’ she told him.

He whined and pressed his head into her chest. She patted him and casting a longing look at the Well, mounted him. The sense of hopeless filled her and she knew nothing would unseal her fate.