The Spell

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...And as a punishment and to never forget the hurt you bestowed on me, I will mark your unborn child in a way that will make you remember me, every time you will look at him. The only way his spell will be broken, is by true love's first kiss...

The wicked witch cast a spell and the room filled with fog. The smell was pleasant, but everyone present knew about the evil happening before their eyes. The fog bundled into a shapeless cloud and dove like a spear into the protruding belly of the queen. The evil witch barked out a laugh, and when the guards tried to arrest her, she disappeared into thin air. The Queen gasped and fell back on her throne, holding both of her hands over her belly. She shook her head in disbelief and told the baby that it was safe inside her body, but she knew it was a lie. Her heart sank, and she looked for the kind eyes of her husband. The guests murmured words the queen didn't understand, and the king hasted to kneel at his woman's side. He put his hands on his wife's and looked into her eyes. She looked fearful and for once he couldn't reassure her.

The guests were ushered outside and the king and the queen tried to reason that the spell wasn't as bad, and maybe the witch wasn't as powerful as she had tried to make them believe. Both of them knew that they were wrong and worried in their own way.

During the next days, magicians and healers were invited to the castle to ease the spell, but no one could be sure if it had worked or not. The queen's love of the growing life inside of her grew as well and out of protectiveness she retreated and refused to see another healer, magician or another person who wanted to fix her with horrendous medicines. She began to decorate the child's room and knitted clothes for the baby, and wondered if she would hold a boy or a girl in her arms soon.

One day, a terrible thunderstorm shook the castle and in the light of the full moon and lightning, and to the sound of thunder, the queen gave birth to a little boy. He cried loudly when he was pulled out of his mother's womb, but as soon as he lay in her arms, he calmed down. The midwives were appalled to look at the little creature. His face was mutilated with scars and the veins on his left arm were painted black. His eyes were of a deep brown. Almost as dark as the devil's soul, they imagined.
The queen kissed her son's head with a pointed look at the woman and was happy to have survived the ordeal of giving birth. The father, however, had heard the whispers of the midwives and declared that everyone who spoke ill of his heir would be banned from this castle.
Word traveled fast in the kingdom. The king and the queen had become parents to a boy, and the witch's spell had become a reality. It was told that the boy was defaced and had the devil's eyes. His name was Taryn.

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