A Brief Introduction to the Unlikely Romance Story between a Boy and a Witch

I got this story from a dream, and upon lying upon my mattress (yes I sleep on a mattress) the following night, it grew and grew.. into that which I now present to you.

There will probably be more stories to come.

Credits:

IMO: TWOM friend for the name Gwyneth.

Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a witch. And not just any witch. This particular witch had lived a long time (800 odd years, by her own reckoning) and lived in a fortress that was even older. And the age of Wizards and Witches had long past since over a century ago… Mankind no longer knew what magic was. And now, in the towns and small cities that were populated with humans galore, there circulated rumors. Rumors of a single Witch who was still in existence. Still alive. The only one left of her kind, and wielding enormous power, enough to annihilate an entire country if she tried. And so people knew of her, but shunned her.

 Her name was Gwyneth.

At the current point in time, this said Witch was enjoying a leisurely day, the same as always, in her large, yet cozy castle. Her day consisted of drinking tea, pruning the flowers in the garden by hand, or magic if she was lazy, and observing the few people in the town nearest to the forest that housed her abode go about their daily activities.

Due to a coincidence in time, a bumbling couple in said town had just lost track of their six year old son. This young boy, while his parents were frantically searching for him back in town, had wandered into the forest… Into the web of magic that Gwyneth spun as a security measure.

The fog of miasma swirled around the boy as he walked, pranced, and danced into the heart of the forest, and then closed back, solid as a wall.

Gwyneth was napping in her favorite couch by the window (it was in the afternoon already) when her alarm sounded. She awoke with a start. ‘Wasn’t that tone used to warn me of burglars and whatnot?’ She wondered. ‘Oh well. It’s been so long since a stranger crossed the threshold of my doorstep. I might as well give him-or her- a nasty surprise!’  Gwyneth smiled (albeit evilly) as she snapped her fingers once, and the fireflies illuminating the inside of the castle retired to their cubbyholes and the curtains drew themselves.

All was dark when little Shanks opened the giant oak door (or so it seemed to a young child) that was the entrance to the Witch’s castle. Of course, he didn’t know what the place was home to, and being full of curiosity as most young boys that age are prone to be—stepped right in after the door swung open, apparently light as a feather despite its size and material. Not forgetting that he made a face at the lion-shaped doorknob (he thought it was ugly) and tried (and failed spectacularly) to knock using the brass ring below the lion face (it was too high).

Both parties were pleasantly surprised when they found each other (Gwyneth was creeping down the stairs, still in her nightie, and Shanks looking at the weirdly dressed man in the ornate photo frame on the wall). Gwyneth had tried molding her face into an approximate grimace when Shanks suddenly turned and looked up.

Gwyneth gave a little scream that was most unbecoming of a Witch. (The man in the portrait tut- tutted for a bit before resuming his act as a still picture) Shanks shouted, and tumbled onto the floor a few steps below. It hurt his little bottom somewhat even though the carpeting was heavy, and he moaned a little. He ceased the mock cries of pain when Gwyneth hurried down and rubbed the sore area for him (she was ashamed to play a prank on such a small boy). Then he turned, and saw a rather attractive twenty- plus lady (Gwyneth had vanity issues) frowning at something in the background. As he turned around, a scraping sound was heard on the marble floor before a suit of armor appeared innocuously in his field of vision. He turned back, and remembering his manners ( ‘Don’t ever be rude to a lady!’ His mother always said), doffed an imaginary cap, and introduced himself.

In the end, what transpired was that Gwyneth showed him around the place (the library full of arcane and general knowledge, the spice and herb garden, the staircases, the walls which were at places stripped to the bare grey brick as an artistic touch, the window from which he fell from accidentally, and which Gwyneth had to conjure up a bed of roses from the thorns below), and before they knew it it was dusk. Being a most responsible Witch, Gwyneth decided to show him to a place that she used to teleport to the town.

Shanks stared wide-eyed in wonderment at what was before in. It was every boy’s delight: a tunnel. It was right at the attic (somehow, although this was rather inconvenient, and was why Gwyneth didn’t use it much) and was a nifty contraption activated by magic. At a few choice words from the witch, the wooden grille lifted, and the tunnel opened its maw just wide enough for Shanks to fit into. Beyond was nothing… nothing but blackness. Shanks was positively trembling in excitement (and beginning to miss his parents) and quickly crawled in.

And as so happens with most boys his age, he forgot all about civility as soon as he remembered it.

Which was why his parting words were: ‘Bye-bye, aunty!’

Which Gwyneth, like most women, found offensive.

All of a sudden there were various scuttling and scraping noises as things that were best unmentioned began crawling out from nowhere, ready to attack the unwitting boy. Gwyneth stared daggers at them, and they quietly retreated the way they had come from.

The tunnel was a portal to a dirt hole just outside town, and when Shank’s parents saw him emerge out dirty and all, they ran across and hugged him tightly, staying like that for several minutes without saying anything.

That night, Shank’s mother told him the story of Gwyneth, the Witch. She was supposedly an old hag, evil and demented, living all along in the forest that was close to the town (uncomfortably so). And the citadel she lived in was tall, and ghastly, with ominous storm clouds always hovering in the horizon, and thunder claps and lighting flashes were immi-

‘But mom, I saw that witch today! Shes really cool and pretty!’

‘Don’t talk nonsense, silly. Now back to bed.’ Shank’s mother laughed it off before tucking her son in, blowing out the candle and closing the door silently behind her.

Shanks lay awake for some time, pondering the day’s strange events (‘She did look rather lonely, though’ he thought) before sleep overwhelmed him.

* * *

 Over the course of the next few years, Shanks grew into a strapping, handsome young man, always besieged by maids from the grocer’s, the landlord’s daughter, …

But he always returned to Gwyneth’s home, reading up on things around him and in the past, chatting idly with Gwyneth. (He borrowed a book once that Gwyneth was reluctant to lend; a tome full of black magic that could not fall into the wrong hands… But lost it, and got scolded by Gwyneth severely before she realized that it was futile to do so)

The flame of adventure and mercantile burned brighter within Shanks with each passing day, until he could stand it no longer and gathered a motley band of like- minded raggedy young men to foray and explore the world. He promised to come back to Gwyneth as soon as he made his fortune…

But one year passed.

Two years passed…

And Gwyneth had had enough of pining for him. Since when had her affection for him started? As the boy grew into a man, and each visit brought more mature views, a sharpened mind to fight back against and squabble with her… she didn’t know quite when, but she liked him.

The cold cage of ice that had frozen her heart had been melted and warmed by his passion… and she was not about to let it freeze over once more.

She would venture out into the world once more, against the better judgment of her logical side and her magical friends at home…

But then again, love was blind.

Gwyneth fastened the last piece of equipment in place on her rucksack, and locked up the castle, clad in her heavy-duty sheepskin boots.

The unlikely heroine set of on her journey without once looking back.

Behind her, the thorns and creepers once more surrounded the castle, and the sky grew heavy with rain and lightning flashes.

Foreboding what was about to come.