The Witch, The Flower, and The Golden Goose

The Witch, The Flower, and The Golden Goose Part 1

Magic flower in hand, Joringel traversed the Forest of Blood toward the malignant witch's castle. He strode forward, cut through the dense foliage of the woods, and climbed over fallen trees, from one footpath to another. The malicious creatures of the area, illusionary chimera, bloodthirsty were-insects, or packs of dormadogs, never crossed his mind so focused was he on one goal—the rescue of the lovely Jorinda.

Every caw of a bird recalled his parting with his sweetmate, and his pulse quickened when he thought of her fate and how it hung in the balance. A few days ago, out of options, he drank in the Inn of Five crying into his mead, but after acquiring the flower, only one pertinent question remained. Would he arrive in time to save her?

He walked through the night and the morning of the next day, but soon after the sun reached its zenith, his pace slowed and his eyelids drooped. Although his blood raced through his veins when he first recovered the flower, exhaustion overtook him now. Joringel stumbled, lost his balance, and fell to the ground. He was a fool to think he would reach the witch's dwelling without slumber, but Jorinda's fate lay in his hands. He didn't know what the sorceress did with her captives. If Joringel delayed too long, the hag may kill her. Nevertheless, he blew leaves out of his mouth and whispered to himself. "I must reach her."

His legs refused to obey any command he gave them. A short two-hour nap and then he could continue his quest. He decided to sleep under a bush, and the acrid scent of mold and soil filled his nostrils as he covered himself with the detritus from the forest. He closed his eyes and succumbed to the peace of sleep until a sharp stick poked him in the ribs.

He sat up and the shrub's branches clawed his face. Howling with pain, he rolled from under the bush, spying two diminutive sprites—male and female—standing before him with sticks.

The woman turned to the man. "I told you he was not a bugbear."

The male, thirty millimeters long with mint-colored skin, lowered his branch. "Why hide under the leaves then?"

Joringel, dazed from the abrupt awakening, scanned the sky. "Where is the sun?"

The female sprite's skin tone matched her husband's. She ran a hand through her straight, purple hair which contrasted with her husband's shade of red. "We have three hours of daylight left."

"I have slept too long. I must be on my way. Leave me alone."

"Where are you headed?" asked the male sprite.

"It is of no consequence to you, but my destination is a witch who has trapped my sweetmate."

The man's transparent wings fluttered with excitement. "Exactly what we were hoping for!"

The woman crossed her arms. "I do not think so. Let us leave the gentleman on his quest and continue on our way."

"But what stories it will make for our children!"

Joringel had no idea why he hadn't left the creatures, but something about these sprites made him pause. On the scale of respect in Kingdom, sprites took their place somewhere lower than feral cats but above mosquitoes. However Joringel had a soft spot in his heart for sprites and he had to admit, if this creature hadn't poked him, he might have slept longer. "If you have children, do not follow me. My quest is dangerous."

The woman sprite floated within centimeters from his nose. "We have no children. I am Basil. My husband is Gnow. We are on our honeymoon."

Joringel brushed off burrs from his shirt. "In the Forest of Blood?"

Gnow bobbed his head up and down while Basil tipped her head reluctantly. "It was his idea. My new husband is a bit foolhardy."

"You are half right." Joringel hitched up his pants. "I would advise the Plains of Safe Passage. A much more pleasant environment."