Wolf

Prologue

Queen Isabella was sick. She needed help. There was only one person who could really save her, and that was a witch. The witch, Christina, was trusted by the entire palace, but extended no further. She helped the sick, wounded members, and for what price? To live. All witches but Christina were dead. They had no purpose. They used black magic. All but Christina, who had begged for mercy.

Queen Isabella cried out in pain, as a contraction began. Her baby was healthy inside her, ready to come out. The baby was the only thing that was healthy. Isabella knew that the illness was fatal, though she cared about little but the child. She wanted to have the baby, even if it killed her. She needed something to carry about the royal duties when she was gone.

Christina sat on the floor, surrounded by bottles. Each had a lable written in black ink. There were feathers, flowers and water. She mixed them into a tightly woven bowle of grass. Through mixing them together, a powerful smell arose out of the bowel. Queen Isabella smelled it, and her face softened. The potion would take away the pain, though was not capable of doing anything else. The witch was not strong enough.

The king stood beside his wife, his face pale and his head sweaty. He held the Queen's hand, though it did little to reasure either of them. One of the nurses told Queen Isabella that the baby was almost out. That reassured both the King and Queen. She pushed, and the young baby fell into the arms of the nurse.

"Its a healthy baby girl." The nurse said, a smile falling onto her face as she watched the beautiful young girl writhe in her arms.

Christina was happy, but when she looked at the Queen, her face looked sad. The Queen convulsed healvily, not able to live much longer. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as her body lay still, unmoving. Dead.

Christina clucthed her woven basket tight as she cried, knowing that she could've saved the Queen. Somehow, this was her fault. Somehow she had made this happen. But she couldn't bring herself to face the child, or the king... or the Queen.

The king looked at his hand, the one holding the pale hand belonging to the Queen. He grips it tightly, then lets go, then walked out of the room, crying. The nurse wasn't happy, either, though the baby in her arms was squirming.

"Make sure that you bring her to my tower when she has had food." Christina said. She glanced at the maid, as she nodded. Christina needed to do something to this child. The queen had saved her life, and now this baby had ended hers. Though what Christina knew about the Queen that nobody else knew was that she had a curse. A curse that her first born child would kill her, and not long after would die itself.

Christina couldn't let the child die. Not now, and not while she was living in the palace. She would have to put the child under some kind of spell, at least until she knew that she would be safe. How long that would be would depend upon the power of the spells.

 Not long after, the nurse brought in the child. She held her whilst Christina thought of a spell that would save the child's life. There weren't many that she could think of, though one stood out the most.

Christina mumbled some words, and a light glow fell over the child. It disappeared inside the child's heart, where the spell would stay till she could find a way to break it. Christina crumpled over, the spell of the previous witch taking effect. She groaned in pain as she crumpled to the floor.

Christina grabbed her book and mumbled words as fast as she could before shaking violently. The nurse watched in shock as the witch crumpled to the ground. Cristina was breathing heavily, though still alive. She was hurt badly, and would need to lay off of the spells, in order to heal. More magic could end badly for her.

 The nurse, standing in the doorway, held tight to the girl. She wasn't sure what was happening, though she really didn't want to know. Christina reached for something.

"Look after her. I will name her Aala, for it means hunt and heal, for you shall see when she is a month of age. Keep her safe, Candace. For you are pure, as your name suggests." Christina says, struggling with each word.

The blond maid, Candace, looked as though she would cry. Her green eyes giving that away, she turned towards the door. Holding Aala, she walked away, knowing that Christina would see the child again, but when she was good and ready.