Legend Of The Young Warlock

Game Of The Gods

A hut surrounded by four oak trees with witches' brooms.

"It's too dark in here."

Elena, dressed in a smeared purple gown pushed opened the weak wooden door of the hut. She took two conscious steps in. Twas eventide and the sun was beginning to retreat, therefore the inside of the hut was clouded by gloom. But the faint orange rays of the sun still stole their ways through the tiny openings in the conjoined planks which made up the walls of the single room.

Since the sun was still up, twas unusual that the room was si dark. There was only one definition to that. She didn't hold back the word,

"There sure is magic here."

She admitted as she took further bold steps into the room. The door shut itself suddenly behind her, sending a creepy shrill of fear through her spines.

"Anyone in? Sorcerer?"

She was beginning to shiver. It smelt death in there and she could barely catch a sight of anything. She could only feel a thick darkness crawling up her skin.

"Hello."

She called and flinched when she heard a sudden movement behind her.

"I'm here for your help, my mistress. I heard you could help me. I come with no harm. I'm not one of the spies of the wicked king."

A sudden breeze swept past her, lifting the hem of her gown up. She felt a quirky movement between her thighs.

"Oh goodness."

She gasped, pushing the gown down. Her soft palm felt the space between her thighs.

"Please, my mistress."

She called again. But then she heard a thud behind her. She put both her wet hands to her mouth, to hold herself back from screaming.

She began to turn slowly. Twas like a task she shouldn't do, but there was no way around it but to do it.

As she completed the turn, she couldn't hold back the intensity of the dread. She fell on her back, on her booties, almost crunching the bone of her left arm.

There stood an old man with drooping white beards, reeking of herbs and cauldron, just an inch away from her.

"Wise one."

She began to sob. The side of her eyes, already now a track for fresh saline liquid.

"I did not mean to intrude your activities. I was misled. If I had known, I wouldn't had come. I'm sorry, wise one. Please spare my life."

She struggled to her kneels, locking her fingers up in a genuine plea.

"Who were you told lives here?"

The thick, croak voice of the old man did nothing but heighten the dread. For a moment she lost the will to speak.

The old man walked past her, and then came a single shade of light which lit up half of the room; the lit part of the room was where he had walked to.

At that part of the room, there was a black pot on three set of stones. There was no fire underneath, but there were steams dancing off the content of the pot. Opposite the pot was a large bowl.

She made an effort to turn to the man. But as she turned, her jaws dropped. She couldn't find the old man anymore. There was rather a tall young lady with her back to her.

The lady turned to her, in her mouth,

"Was this who you were told you'll meet?"

Elena nodded her head ruthlessly at the extremely beautiful lady. A blond. 5"5, thick and curvy, oblong face, silver eyes, button nose, and soft medium lips.

The lady continued while Elena had her lips paved in surprise tamed by dread,

"She used to be very ugly and without focus, a seamstress kicked about like some balls by almost every one who hired her. But one summer, she disappeared for few weeks. But on her return, she was already a strikingly beautiful one. The most beautiful of the ladies who lived in her time."

The lady let out a wierd laughter and beckoned at Elena who was still struggling on her knees,

"You want to know whose story that was?"

Elena did the best she could; a compelling and hard nod.

"Come over here."

The lady added and Elena scrambled to her feet. The lady walked away from the pot of Cauldron to the large bowl.

"Look into the bowl."

The lady ordered. Elena hesitated firstly, tracing the nice curves of the lady's beautiful face. Her gown now white, snow-white, long and fluffy.

Elena looked away from her face to the bowl. Her eyes widened at what she saw in the water in the bowl. She threw her face away. She couldn't look for long, breathing heavily.

She had seen a grotesque face in the water. A face ugly beyond description. Elena mustered courage to look up at the lady who continued,

"Even the man for whom I took the risk of being beautiful -- A price of being a central of attention, but never to be regarded as a human. He told me that he didn't hate me because I was ugly. He did because he wasn't interested in me. He called me petty. I felt used and ruined and should had destroyed him, but I couldn't... One, because of the love I had for him... which maybe I still have. Also, the gods have a use for him. He would be a king sooner than enough."

She walked away from the large bowl to the end of the hut were was a small stool. She put her left leg on it, her back to Elena whose temple housed a rill of sweat.

"You have also come to make the mistake I made. To please men. How stupid of you. As one of their needs is met, another arises. Never ending. Insatiable. In that constant order."

She laughed hysterically to nothing in precision. As she cackled, her cheeks folded in beautifully.

She walked away from where she was back to the pot of Cauldron. She stretched her left hand over the pot and a small hollowed container appeared in her hand.

She dipped it into the Cauldron and collected small quantity of the sacred soup.

"Drink this at once. You'll be kept in shape. Your lifespan will be shrunk. You'll keep being beautiful. Every part of your body which you displeases would be tucked in without warning, and that which you love most will begin to sprout. But the price is your womb. Your unborn children would be digested and nourish your body."

Elena finally found her voice, after she had collected the potion.

"What would happen then in the end of time?"

The lady left that questioned unanswered waked to where the stool was. She put her left leg on it again, then turned to Elena with fiery eyes,

"Who did you find living in this hut?"

"An old man!!!"

Elena stuttered and the lady nodded. She feigned a broad smile and looked away from Elena. Looking at the old wooden walls, she was gobbled up by the apt atmosphere - disappeared.

"By the gods!"

Elena at that scurried through the door of the room, clasping the container of cauldron to her chest as her soles taught her heart the expected thumps.

* * *

The Palace.

"His greatness, words have been sent out to all the kings and their princes about the birthday of my princess."

The captain of the guards, on both his knees, scarcely looking up into the eyes of the King said.

"The queen of Katil?"

"She sent three graciously embroidered gowns for Lady Malisa to choose for her birthday."

The captain pointed at his back to two maids showing up the first gown.

"And you didn't burn them?"

King Wealene barked. The captain shuddered. One of the maids dropped her part of the gown at the shout.

"Into the dungeon."

He ordered and the guards hurried to the maid and seized her.

"Prince Manor sent several Arabian perfumes, gold necklaces and other ornaments. The scout reported also that 20 other princes from unknown regions would join this year. Making 100 princes at the feet of my lady."

"Father."

Came a feminine voice from the passage which led to the royal chamber. The Princess was walking towards the throne, accompanied by her personal maid, Samantha, and her huge wild cat, a big Siberian tiger.

Malisa the Princess, was a 5"7 slender and very beautiful lady. Her poised face and structure combined with the chick-look gives her an elegant aura. Her long sleek hair, like the sun and brown eyes that matches the soil of the earth completes her look. Her spoilt bratty attitude does not complement her look. A girl that has grown up to always get what she wants, and doesn’t care how it would affect the people around her.

The King waved away the captain who hurried away.

"Malisa, my love."

He step off the throne and hugged her.

"Shouldn't you be resting against the occasion in three days?"

"What do you take me for father? Shouldn't I get to choose who and what entertains me?"

He laughed sequentially, at her argument,

"You know what I mean. Anyway, do not wander off. Fifty of the gaurds would go with you."

She scoffed,

"Samantha is here for me. I do not need a guard. And by the way father, I have a surprise for you on the evening of my birthday."

His grim face wielded an infant frown.

"Will it break my heart?"

She chuckled and pecked him on the cheek.

"You won't deny me of any request on that day, will you?"

He took a deep breath. He shook his head softly,

"I don't think so. Just don't make me regret making this promise."

She laughed lightly,

"We'll be back in a while. Duwa, stay with father till I return. I trust you will protect him. We won't be long."

She rubbed the head of the tiger which nuzzled at her rib-side. That was how tall the cat was.

"Come Samantha."

They both walked through the long golden aisle of the luxuriously furnished palace. As they got to the door, Samantha asked,

"Forgive me my lady, does the surprise has to do with the --"

"Yes. It has to do with the Ostler! I'll announce him to father that day."

Malisa cut in. Then she twitched her face softly,

"Don't tell me you also have your eyes on him."

Samantha's eyes bulged at once, her tempo scaled altitude,

"Never, my lady. That rude hamster."

She shrugged as Malisa chucked. Their horses were led by and they climbed on.