White As Snow

Prologue

A slender woman sat at the window of a palace hidden in the northern forests of Beilin. Mareilla's long black hair draped over her small figure, in one hand she held a small embroidery hoop; fitted with a white quilt square, in the other a needle. Stacks of thread spools were piled on a table to her left. A nearly finished quilt was draped over the chair beside her, it only need three more squares.

Mareilla reached out, captivated by the meticulous pattern of the falling snow, opened the latch and pushed open the glass panes. She stared out into the white world in an almost delirious, dreamlike state, her eyes glassy and glazed over. Soon the snowfall started to ease up, one last snowflake landed on the sill of the window. The impact shattered the fragile thing, and a barely audible ping echoed quietly in the seemingly empty world. I wish I had a daughter with skin the color of snow she wished to no one in particular, Mareilla threaded her needle with string made of silver. Pushing the needle in, and, out, she slowly stitched a gleaming snowflake into the snow white cloth. When she finished Mareilla tied a knot and nipped of the excess with her teeth, then out of habit she immediately removed the quilt square, and replaced it without even thinking.

Suddenly a crow flew by cawing loudly, the silence was shattered. The Queen watched as a feather fell from its tail and slowly drifted to the ground. She threaded her needle with black thread and stitched a long black feather. Ah, to have a daughter with hair as black as that crow's feathers Mareilla thought.

Finally, she was on her last square. She looked out to the forest, eager for more inspiration but none came. Mareilla waited silently in an odd sort of vigil, but when nothing changed she decided to stitch a heart, she cut a length of red string and pulled it through the eye of the needle. She raised her hand to poke the needle through, but her elbow bumped into the table next to her. Her arm tingled and Mareilla lost grip of the needle, and stabbed her self lightly on her thumb. She watched mesmerized as the single drop fell from her finger, and landed on the pure white cloth. It spread into a heart with little trickles surrounding the edges that looked like veins. Even though her wound was pulsing, and obviously bleeding, she was blissfully unaware of the pain. Dreamily she looked out to the window, and proclaimed to the world. "I wish I had a daughter, with skin as white as snow, hair as black as a crow's feathers and lips as red as blood."

A few birds flew squawking, out of the trees, but other than that the setting was the same. She stared out waiting. Until, suddenly her brother appeared, "My Queen," he bowed. "Sister, I heard your wish, I could grant it for a price." He said nervously. The queen hazily glanced at him "Okay," she said, after all it was normal for people who couldn't cast small beatification charms to pay someone else for them. The second the words were out of her lips, she knew her mistake. Legally, the magic user only needed the person's verbal permission to bypass the lock and use their magic on the person for the objective they had agreed to. "Wait!" she cried, but her brother had already started the bind.

"Skin as white as snow

Hair as black as the witch's crow

Lips the shade of the blood that flows

This is what you ask of me

So I must ask you to return the deed

Your Daughter's sight I shall take

As punishment for your careless mistake

However, to undo this curse there is a way

Find my name of truth and remember it till the eighteenth day

Scream it for the sky before it is torn

Or your daughter will never see a single thing after the third day she is born