Bewitched

Chapter III

The air was crisp and cool but the sun glistened, sharp rays of light reflecting off the sea's surface.

The nerves of my people had quelled, their anxiousness of being caught in the fighting ebbing away as the beauty of the Upper Kingdom stood before them.

I stood waiting for the boat to fully dock, a genuine smile lightly grazing my face. My chest felt full of electricity, tiny surges of excitement zapping through my fingers and toes, putting my nerves on edge.

The minute the boats docked, I nudged myself further forward in the crowd, anxious to feel my feet on the ground.

I jumped onto the ground, my feet crunching the thin layer of snow that blanketed the ground. The Upper Kingdom was covered in a light dusting of snow, flurries of large snowflakes swirling down from the sky.

Thick, bushy trees lined the shore but I could make out smoke floating in the sky, knowing that the village was just past the wall of trees.

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The village was bustling with people, their golden aura shining ever so softly underneath their layers of clothes. The town square was beautiful, quaint shops lit by the warm glow of candles perched high in glossed, black lamp posts.

Creatures of all kinds walked among the people; tiny pixies flitted about in the air, their twinkling laughs carrying through the wind. Small woodland gnomes, their beards intertwined with sticks and moss moved along the square, their bushy eyebrows twisted in slight annoyance. They were quite the fascinating creature but despite their small stature, the woodland gnomes were grumpy and notorious for whacking whoever got on their bad side with wooden canes that they kept tucked away under their robes. Typically, it was best to stay clear of them for fear of their quick temper.

On the cobblestone paths, fauns and centaurs walked, their hooves making soft clicks on the stone. Unlike the gnomes, they were kind creatures yet were known for their mischievousness, a sly look always resting behind their honey colored eyes.

I watched a large centaur bend his head to meet a tiny boy's outreached hand, his chestnut fur glinting in the sun. The centaur brought his head to his back, his teeth gripping a woolen blanket that had been draped over him before gently placing it over the boy's head.

We continued walking closer to the village and upon entering, stares made their way towards us as note of our arrival made its way through the crowd. We looked a mess compared to them, our days worth of travel showing on our faces and clothes but this did little to dim our excitement. Despite our eager and welcoming smiles, only malice was reflected back at us.

A spark of jealousy went through my chest watching the crowd before me. I felt left out and foreign, saddened by the normalcy of the magic that roamed the village and the Kingdom. I was envious of how easily the creatures interacted with the humans and of the Upper's soft, golden glow.

I wanted what they had; the interactions and feelings that they had and took for granted. I wished to be the little boy with the centaur, forlorn by the fact that that boy would never know how lucky he was. I was undeniably jealous, thinking back to the cold nights of my childhood and the rundown shops and houses that so heavily contrasted what I saw before me.

But I was also angry.

Angry that me and my people had been torn away from this, torn away from the happiness and safety of the Upper Kingdom. Torn away from the chance at fulfilment that the people who lived here experienced.

We were nothing to them, outsiders that would never understand, never be able to feel what it was like to possess magic or what it was like to walk among mythical beasts. I didn't understand their disdain for us and while it made me angry, I couldn't help but feel the throb of sadness tucked away behind my anger.