The Lonely Witch

Once a long time ago, there was a witch who lived deep, deep in the dark woods not because she liked the woods, but because she was afraid. Afraid of being burned or drowned or worse.

For a long time, she was happy in her little house deep, deep in the dark woods, but slowly she grew lonely. She wanted a friend a companion. No even better. She wanted a child.

She had heard rumors there was another witch who lived in a hidden cave somewhere in the distant mountains who knew how to make a child.

So, the witch gathered her meager possessions and set off. She walked and she searched day after day, month after month, year after year, until one night when she was walking along a small stream in the bottom of a steep gorge she saw the flicker of a flame appear in a small crack way up on the cliff's face and she knew she had found her.

The witch tightened her small pack on her back and began to climb the steep cliff. She had a couple of slips, which left her heart racing and led her to momentarily questions if she should keep climbing, but eventually she made it.

The witch pulled herself into the small opening in the rock and found an incredibly old looking woman hunched over a small fire.

Before the witch could even catch her breath, the woman said, "I know why you have sought me, and I must urge you to leave."

"But, why?" gasped the witch.

"I can teach you the secret that you seek, but I promise you will come to wish I didn't."

The witch had come to far to be turned from her mission by the woman's warnings, so she said, "If you know the secret that I seek, tell it to me, and I will begone."

The woman gave the witch a long imploring look that made the witch briefly consider leaving, but in the end she didn't. And, the woman told the witch her secret.

After learning the secret, the witch raced out of the mountains towards her home in the deep, deep woods, but when she got there, her home and the woods were gone replaced by a bustling small town.

The witch quickly fled, but didn't know where to go. It seemed like society had infested the land. She searched and she searched until she found a small island buried deep in a dank, dark swamp.

The witch felt safe with the swamps murky water protecting her, so she built a house and prepared to follow the woman's instructions.

She gathered a large white candle, the feather from a male cardinal, a quill, goatskin parchment, onion roots, saw dust, and the eyes of a newt. Then, she lit the candle, picked up her quill, and began to chant.

After, the witch wrote the last symbol and said the last words, nothing happened. She waited and waited and still nothing. Then, a tear slid from her eye and somehow fell directly into the candle's flame, and after a brief puff of smoke, a small, beautiful child, with pearly white skin, red almost orange hair and blue eyes like the hottest part of a flame appeared in front of her.

The child looked at the witch and asked, "Who are you?"

"I am your mother," said the witch.

"And, who am I?" asked the child.

"You are my daughter, Lumiere."

The witch was so unbelievably happy. Her and Lumiere played and sang and danced all day long. They kept playing day after day month after month year after year, and the witch was happy. But, slowly Lumiere grew tired of their little house and their little island and the games they played and the songs they sang. She longed to see what was out beyond the murky water.