The Legends We Create

Chapter one: The village of legends

Fast asleep with my head on the antique desk I lied there, on the stories I had recorded, the story of my mother and father.

~~

As the story implies, I have never met my parents, for my father killed himself before he was born and my mother died during childbirth. The villager that took me in I have been calling grandmother.

Though I never knew this wasn’t a normal place until I was older.

I grew up between werewolves, beasts and other mythical creatures, my neighbor tried to ‘have a sip’ of me more than once, but as I never knew otherwise, I never knew our village was weird until I tried to leave.

I remember the event clearly, I was 9 years old, my bronze curls all messed up from running. I had been teased again, for having no last name and no parents. Tears filled my strangely colored eyes, one black like onyx and the other blue like sapphire.

I let the tears flow slowly down my cheeks, making them burn with the salt that was left behind. I gasped for breath as I ran out of the village and into the woods, passed the gingerbread house, past the castle of the beast and the tower of Rapunzel, I passed everything as houses popped up on our way, thinking we might need to find them and might not be able to if they stayed in one place.

The end of the road was in sight and I ran full speed towards it. Only to find myself transported back into the village, next to the wishing well on the towns square. I ran again, not wanting to give up.

I ran two times, ten times, fifty times, but every single time I was transported back to the town square.

That was the first time I realized, there something strange going on so I went to my grandmother.

My grandmother had always been a strange person, apart from the fact that she never aged and always looked like a fifteen year old, she fancied running around the woods to meet my grandfather, a werewolf.

Those too go way back, my grandmother Redonia riding hood, whom you might know as little red riding hood, went to her grandmothers house in the forests and along the way she was seen by a werewolf who directly mated on her, he ‘courted’ her as he called it and they fell madly in love. When it was time for him to meet her grandmother… he got stung by a bee changed because of his anger and scared the poor old lady to death…

Yes that is the actual story of red riding hood.

Anyway, my grandmother stopped aging after being made a werewolf as well and raised me with the wisdom of a hundred year old woman and the fashion sense of one of 15. I had always adored her.

Either way, there I was, 9 years old and confused. I ran towards my house and ran towards the kitchen where grandmother was always at.

“Granny! I can’t leave the village!” I had told her confused.

“Why would you want to?” Was her surprised reply.

“Everyone keeps telling me I don’t belong in the village so I thought that if I just….” I didn’t finish speaking when I saw the disapproving look on my grandmothers face.

“Don’t spout nonsense girl, just because you haven’t found your story yet doesn’t mean there isn’t one out there! You got your item with you right?” She asked me.

Our items are special, every single story character needs a certain item to fulfill their story, like red riding hood needs her red hood and Belle needs the magic mirror while the beast needs the magic rose.

My item is a pocket watch, small and unnoticeable yet valuable.

For a long time people thought I was meant to be the first female rabbit in Alice in wonderland but soon after me a boy with ridiculously long ears had been born with a bigger pocket watch.

“Yes I always keep it with me.” I told her.

“Alright then, that way your story will find you.” She smiled. I looked at what she was doing, making a strawberry pie. My favorite.

“But why can’t I leave the village, others can right?” I asked her.

“Only storytellers can come in and go out as they please, the rest of us have to remain in the village until we die.” She said.

“And you’re fine with that?” I asked surprised.

“Yes, I’m happy here, I remember a storyteller, he told me how cruel their world was and I don’t even want to go there. I’d rather remain where it’s safe.” She said.

“But what if I become a storyteller? Could I leave then?” I asked her but she shook her head absentmindedly.

I left the kitchen and went to my small room to think. Right at that moment, sitting at the desk I’m now sleeping on right now, I made up my mind. I would be the person to tell the actual stories, how the fairytale versions in the books we got came to exist.

The magic library at the edge of the forest became my second home and I grew close to the people there, the sisters of time, they can see the past present and future, but they can all just see one, so without each other they would forget everything. and the druids and magicians that lived there. They didn’t approve of me at first, but when they found out that I was persistent they tolerated me and eventually started enjoying my presence.

Now it’s 8 year later and I’m 17 years old.

I am officially the oldest person in the village without a story.

The druids, magicians and witches feel bad for me. I do as well

~~

“Josephine! Wake up, there is someone here to see you!” I heard the voice of my grandmother, whom I had actually outgrown, say.

“To see me?” I asked with a horse voice as I wiped the drool of my chin.

“Yes, one of our princes.” She said.

“Send him away, why did you bother me for? I’m not a princess or fair maiden, I’m not supposed to associate with princes’” I told my grandmother while I slumped to a stand walked the two steps to my bed and let myself fall on the soft futon.

“But what if you are supposed to be a princess?” Grandmother asked.

“Gran, have you ever looked at me? what part of me looks like that of a princess? My dirty colored hair or my scary not matching eyes?” I told her.

“Hold on, don’t talk like that, you look a lot like both your parents, be glad your hair color is mixed! And if you were a princess at least you would look different from those puppets.” She said before storming out of my room.

“Teenagers,” I grumbled.

“I heard that!” I heard my grandmother yell and I grinned halfheartedly into my pillow before dozing off again.

“Wake up!” I heard my grandmother yell into my ear about an hour later. Her voice sounded different, like there was actually something going on.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Something is happening near the library…” She said and when I saw the worried look on her face I knew she wasn’t kidding. I jumped up and ran out of the house.

I had always been glad for the moving buildings, they popped up where you needed them so when I ran out of my house I could run straight on into the magic library.

Warmth embraced me, not pleasant warmth but heat, like a fire was all around me.

The library was on fire.