The Witch’s Daughter

Today’s short story is another one from my NaNo novel, told by my storytelling main character, Lyra.  You don’t have to know any background, except perhaps that her stories are heavily influenced by the Brothers Grimm, so feel free to skip on down to the story if you like.  There is a little context that may be interesting though.

The non-NaNo novel draft I’m working on is about Jasper, a wandering adventurer, and Julie, a girl he rescues who ends up traveling with him.  There’s also Tom, a talking cat.  In one chapter, they go to the castle of the Twelve Dancing Princesses, which then became the basis for my NaNo novel, telling the story from one princess’ point of view.  Lyra spends some time talking to Julie, and learns a little about her–her mother was a witch, her father taught her to read, she has a conceited orange cat and Jasper can’t read.  Lyra goes on to make up a story about Julie and Jasper to tell her sisters.  Because she doesn’t know much, it bears only slight resemblance to the story in my other novel.  But it was fun to take several of the same elements, and throw them together into a new story.

So here is Lyra’s mostly untrue story about a witch’s daughter and a wandering adventurer.

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The Witch’s Daughter

I told a tale that began once upon a time not too long ago, about a girl whose father taught her to read.  The girl’s father died when she was still quite young, which left her alone with her mother.  This was doubly sad, because her mother, it turns out, was a witch, in every sense of the word.  She was far more interested in her magic and her spells than in her daughter, and the girl was mostly left to herself.  She explored the crumbly old castle they lived in, and read every one of her father’s books.

In due time, the girl grew up into a young woman, one who dreamed of escaping her mother and finding her own path through the world.  Since she had never been beyond the castle and knew no one else, she was afraid to run away alone.  She was also afraid that her mother would catch her, as a witch has many resources to hand.  And if she caught her, there were far too many horrible things she could do.  But the girl was smart, and patient, and so she waited for her opportunity to escape.

One dark night there was a terrible storm, and out of the midst of the storm there came a man on horseback who had lost his way.  He came to the castle to ask for shelter.  The witch saw that he was young and strong and there were many uses she could find for one such as him.  The girl saw that he was handsome, with hazel eyes.  The witch invited the young man in, and told him he must stay until the storm was gone.

Over supper, the witch asked him who he was and where he had come from.  He told them that he was a wandering adventurer, who made his living fighting monsters and breaking curses.  He regaled them with tales of his adventures, and the girl longed for a life with such excitement in it.  The girl said little over supper, but she watched the adventurer, and it seemed to her that every time she turned her eyes to look at him, she found him looking back at her.

In the morning, the storm had passed and the adventurer announced, with some regret, that he must journey on.  The witch laughed in delight and told him he would not be leaving them so soon.  For in the night she had contrived to steal a lock of his hair and cast powerful spells to bind him.  Now the spells made it simple for her to cause him pain or even death, and she assured him she would if he thought to leave.  She had many uses for a slave.

The girl watched all this sadly, for she knew about her mother’s cruelty.  She also knew that, in time, the witch would feel the adventurer had outlived his usefulness as a servant, and then she could find uses for hair and bone and blood in her spells.

The adventurer knew about spells and curses, and knew that he was well and truly caught.  But he was clever, and he also knew that there are ways to break free of binding spells.  He proposed a bargain to the witch: let her set him three challenges of her devising, and let him win his freedom.

The witch considered, and thought that this would be as good a way to make use of him as any.  She could set challenges which, if passed, would be of benefit to her; and she was confident she could devise at least one task he could not accomplish.

The witch swore to the bargain, and the adventurer and the witch’s daughter both breathed easier then.  They both knew that the witch could not kill him while he was pursuing the challenges and that, if he was successful, her vow would force her to set him free.

The witch proposed the first challenge that same night.  In a castle in the mountains there lived the Queen of the North, a powerful and wealthy sorceress.  The adventurer must bring back one piece of the Queen’s treasure.  The witch would give him three days, starting on the morrow.  The binding spell would force him to return, and she had ensured that, even if he died in the attempt, his body would come back to her by magical means.

Late in the night, after the witch had gone to sleep, her daughter knocked at the adventurer’s door.  She knew that her mother had laid a trap in the challenge, and she wished to help the adventurer overcome it.

Among her father’s books, the girl had read one which spoke about the Queen of the North.  The Queen was famed for her wealth, but also for her collection of pets, both exotic and ordinary.  Anyone who visited her castle would see her great quantities of gold and enchanted objects, and judge these to be her treasure.  The witch was expecting the adventurer to bring back one of these, and would find such a thing to be of value.  The Queen herself, however, appreciated her gold but loved her animals—and it was these that she considered to be her treasure.  If the adventurer brought back gold, the witch would gain, and could also claim that he had failed the challenge.

The girl gave the adventurer two more pieces of advice: he must not attempt to steal an animal, for the Queen had laid powerful magic on them to prevent it.  One of her pets could only be obtained if freely given.  And the best way to charm the Queen was to offer her flowers from the valley, for she was said to live in the highest peaks of the mountains, where nothing green could grow.

The adventurer thanked the girl for her advice, and promised to pay heed to it—because only a fool ignores advice while on a quest.

In the morning, the adventurer set out, riding north.  More direction than this he lacked, because the girl’s book had not told her precisely where the Queen of the North was to be found.  Still, he rode forth hopefully enough; directions have a way of developing on quests.

Around midday, the adventurer stopped to eat and rest his horse.  It was an easy matter, too, to collect an armful of flowers from among those growing in the woods.  While he was halted, the adventurer met an old woman who begged to share his meal.  The adventurer shared what food he had willingly enough, and when the meal was over the old woman thanked him and asked if she might do anything for him in return.  The adventurer laughed, and said that she could help him only if she knew the way to the castle of the Queen of the North.  The old woman told him that she did not know the way herself, but that a clever man would do well to climb to the top of the nearest peak and seek an audience with the North Wind, who surely could help on such a quest.

The adventurer climbed up the nearest peak, and at the top he met the old North Wind, who nearly blew him off the mountain demanding to know how the adventurer had known to seek him out there.  He explained about the old woman on the road, and then the North Wind’s attitude changed.  The old woman, as you may suspect, was no ordinary old woman, and the North Wind knew her well.  For the sake of the adventurer’s kindness to her, the North Wind agreed to blow him to the castle of the Queen of the North.

Being blown about by the North Wind is no easy trip, and as he was carried up and down and altogether too close to mountain slopes, the adventurer wished more than once that he had found a less hazardous route.  But at length the North Wind set him down, unharmed if very windblown, before the castle of the Queen of the North.  He had managed to hang on to most of the flowers too.

The adventurer saw no point in skulking about, so he entered boldly through the gate, made his way to the throne room of the Queen, and set his flowers and his story before her.

The Queen studied him for what felt like a very long time, and it is said that the gaze of the Queen sees more than mere mortals.  When her study was finished, she nodded in assent to his request, and led him herself to a vast room where she kept her pets.  She bade him choose which he would take.

The adventurer looked at the menagerie before him—animals of all sorts and sizes, magical and ordinary, a unicorn, a firebird, a lion, a dog, an eagle and a hundred more.  He looked at the animals and hesitated.  He didn’t want to bring the witch something which she could turn to a purpose, harming it or others.  He thought to choose something ordinary, but how could he tell if what seemed to be a simple dog was really as it appeared?  He hesitated for a second reason too, for he could see the affection between the Queen and her pets, and he didn’t want to pain her by taking a favorite.

In the end, he asked the Queen to choose for him.  She saw both the caution and the kindness behind the decision, and led him to a basket half-hidden in a corner.  She reached into the basket and brought out a ball of orange fluff, which unrolled itself with a yawn into a tabby kitten.  The Queen told him the kitten was rather conceited but sweet for all that, and that she would cast her own spells to see to it that the kitten could not be harmed by the witch.

The adventurer tucked the kitten inside of his cloak as the North Wind blew them back again.  He collected his horse and returned to the witch’s castle, to present her with the treasure of the Queen of the North.

The witch looked at the kitten and knew at once that he had passed the challenge, and that she could do nothing with the treasure he had brought her.  She dropped the kitten with disdain into her daughter’s lap, who was delighted by him, and the witch set herself thinking furiously of the next challenge.  She thought that the adventurer had proved himself too clever by half, and perhaps it would be best to have him disposed of quickly.

For the second challenge, she ordered him to bring back the tooth of a dragon.

The witch’s daughter could think of no way to help with this task, and so she worried.  The adventurer did not.  He rode out again the next morning, and this time he knew his direction.  The witch had made a mistake with this challenge, because the adventurer knew a dragon.  It’s a sad misconception that dragons live to fight humans; most are perfectly willing to be amicable if a person doesn’t come charging at them with a sword.  The adventurer had once rescued a baby dragon confronted by just such a person, and earned the undying gratitude of the baby dragon’s mother.  Obtaining a dragon tooth proved to be no challenge at all—the baby dragon was in the process of losing his first set.

The adventurer returned with the dragon tooth, to the fury of the witch and the relief of her daughter.  The witch was doubly angry because the magic of a dragon’s tooth is only as strong as the dragon it came from, and the tooth of a baby dragon would be of very little use to her.  The witch had proposed the second task in haste and in anger, but it had given her time to think about the third task, anticipating that he might be successful again.

For the third task, the witch ordered the adventurer to steal the Mirror of Gemacdo from the Goblin King’s Hall of Mirrors.  The Goblin King was known to have hundreds of mirrors, and only the right one would do—but it would be easily identifiable, for its name was said to be written on its frame.

Then the adventurer’s heart sank.  He was not alarmed by the prospect of stealing from the Goblin King, but he didn’t see how he could get the right mirror—because he couldn’t read.  Somehow—and there are means available to witches that aren’t possible for other folk—the witch had divined this fact, and tailored the task accordingly.

The witch made sure, too, that her daughter had no opportunity to speak to the adventurer before he was to go.  But the girl was present when the adventurer was leaving, and she contrived to slip a note into his hand.  The adventurer regretted his inability to read all over again, expecting that he wouldn’t be able to read whatever she had meant to tell him.  When he opened the note, after he was beyond the castle, he found that it only contained a single word, written large and in careful block letters.  He wondered what she could possibly have to say that would require only one word, and then it occurred to him that there was, after all, only one word he really needed to read.  He couldn’t read “Gemacdo” to save his life (as he quite literally needed to do), but he could match the symbols on the paper against symbols on a mirror.

The adventurer snuck into the Goblin King’s caverns in the early morning, knowing that goblins sleep through the day.  He found the hall of mirrors, and searched through them until he found one with writing that matched that on the note from the girl.  By the time he found the mirror, the goblins were beginning to awaken.  Getting out of the caves involved a few fights and a great deal of running, but he managed to make it back to the witch’s castle, mirror intact.

Bound by her vow, the witch could do nothing but release the spells she had trapped him with.  He was entirely free to go, but now that he could, he realized he was not so certain he wanted to.

He proposed a new bargain with the witch: one more challenge, not for his freedom, but for her daughter.  Provided, that is, that the daughter agreed to the idea.

The girl did agree, and so did her mother.  The witch by this point cared little about gaining anything, but she was eager to exact revenge on the adventurer for defeating her earlier challenges.  Risking her daughter seemed to her like a very small risk.

The challenge the witch proposed was straightforward.  The adventurer must choose the girl from out of a group the witch would provide, and if he chose correctly he could take her away with him.  Confident of his ability to recognize the girl, the adventurer agreed.

And then the witch summoned up four demons, who transformed themselves into the perfect likeness of the witch’s daughter.  She mixed her daughter in among them and presented all five in a line to the adventurer, for him to choose.

The adventurer looked at the row of girls, and could see no differences between them, in face or form or expression.  He thought of speaking to each one, but whatever answer one of them might give, he feared it could be a demon’s trick.  Besides, he had a better idea.

From the depths of his cloak, he brought out the sleepy-eyed orange kitten, which he had taken back from the girl earlier in the day.  The adventurer set the kitten down on the ground before the row of girls.  The kitten yawned once, then trotted directly over to the second girl from the right, who knelt down and gathered up the purring ball of fur.  The adventurer at once chose that girl as the true one.

The demons howled in fury, for he had chosen correctly, and they had hoped to seize him once he belonged to the witch.  They couldn’t take him now because he had won the challenge, and they had no power over the girl.  But the witch’s long practice of the dark arts had left her vulnerable now, and the demons fell on her instead.  The witch disappeared in a swirling black vortex, and has never been heard from again.

The witch’s daughter and the adventurer escaped, and took the orange kitten with them.  The adventurer asked the girl to marry him, and she gladly said yes.  He supposed, less gladly it must be admitted, that now they’d have to settle down somewhere.  The girl rejected that idea entirely—she was far more interested in going out to find more monsters to fight.  And so the adventurer and the girl, with the orange kitten perched on her shoulder, rode off together in search of new adventures.

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