a story idea revisited... anyone interested drop me a pm
The mist hung heavily on the morning air as the human Walter Van Fairchild moved quite into the gully. He had heard that the witch Valdamer had enchanted the entire woodlands here abouts. If the legend is so, then being skilled at stealth was his only defense from her powers. He had ventured here at great risk for a glimpse of her and by haps to capture her. For it is told in the legends of these lands, that if he controls her and proclaims his mastership of her, she will be his. Now one might say why would one want to possess a witch? A good question. The answer is simple and complex all together.
The simple of it, is, she is a perfection of beauty. Her skin is unmarked or blemished in any way. Her body is said to be so graceful that it was a music in form. Her hair was soft blue-white satin that flowed about her like a sea mist. Finally her eyes were a deep yellow glowing of promise and lust, Oh yes, to love her was the greatest pleasure one could experience. A pleasure behold anything a normal woman could ever bring to a man.
The complex side of it, that the legend goes that she has abilities to change nature and shape it into any realm she willed. If she wished a time of forever winter, cold and stark, she could proclaim it. If she, likewise, want a forever spring, full of growth and beauty, she could will that also. She could also change the times to forward or past. Of course this magic is very useful in altering ones destiny of present conditions.
The later was his reason for taking the dreadful chance of being there in her lair.
Not one year past his true love, his sweet wife had died a untimely death by falling from her mount on a ride he and she were on. He had challenged her in a lovers chase through the spring country side. It had been the best of days full of future and expectation for a perfect life between them. Then in an instance his lifeís true heart was lost. It was his fault he felt. Her death had darkened everything about him. He had to somehow change the past. To right the past.
So it was that he was here hunting down Valdamer the witch. He cared not that if he was so unlucky to be spotted by her, she most likely would turn him into a short stub of a tree, most unfortunate outcome for the human indeed.
The forest was like a great wall that closed the western end of the valley from most travelers. There were no roads in that direction, only trails that weaved into it. The man Walter owned a estate some twelve miles east of the "green wall" it was called that by many.
He had moved slightly over a mile into its green jumbled mess of confusion down into a gully of a small stream. It was still morning but the place was as gloomy as a dreary day. Ever watching he moved further in.