The Tragedy of the Petite Princess

Curse

The petite princess ran. The image of mocking red eyes which met her bright gold ones that saw how red lips moaned and groaned at the pleasure of the general burned not only her mind but also her heart. Her eyes were filled with tears which made her surroundings turn hazy so that she stumbled and fell ruining her beautiful dress. She pushed herself to run though her body was as heavy as lead. Her elegant shoes fell off her feet but she did not notice as they bounced away in the dirt. The jewels which adorned her hands and neck fell off in her haste but she left them as she ran. She ran till her body burned more than her heart did, and only then did she fall head first into a pool of dirt and mud unable to move from the ache and pain. But none of these mattered to her as she saw once again the image in her mind. Only the image occupied her senses so that the rain which pattered on her face fell unknowingly. The image remained till she lost consciousness and all faded.  

The castle announced the disappearance of the petite princess but no one cared to try and find her, not even her husband, the general. He was too busy indulging in the flesh of the apple of his eye and it delighted him that his once lost affections were now being returned. His mind was muddled with her scent, her skin and her eyes so that even though his heart sought gold, his mind focused on red. Their trysts were always hidden, unknown by the handsome man, gasping and moaning in the dark behind closed doors. She'd come to him every single day and it mattered not she left to spend the night with another. But when he was left alone, uncomfortable in a lonely bed, gold filled his nightmares - a face he could no longer bare to think for  the image burned a pain so great he would wake in sweat and tears.

In the dead of the night, in a dark forest, a squawking voice told of a timeless tale:

Once there was a young witch with red hair and red eyes that flamed with passion not for love but for destruction and hate. In a coven of witches she was born and they taught her to manipulate and lie with promises of salvation for desiring hearts that was nothing more but another word for doom. She was taught so well that her greedy heart yearned for the darkest wishes known to man.

In the kingdom where she lived was a young boy with a vile heart. The moment he was born, he was given all his hearts desire - anything and anyone that stood in the way was met with punishment and scorn. His parents taught him only of one thing - the pleasure of burning those that practiced magic for the doom and destruction of men.

As the kingdom and the coven warred against each other, the red haired witch and the young boy met. The greedy young witch wished nothing more than to take the kingdom for herself and plunge it's people in the deepest depths of despair and destruction. The young boy, spoiled as he was could care less and spent his days finding anyone to punish and scorn. The red haired witch saw her opportunity in his wily ways and tempted him to take her hand. And he did take it, for her red passionate eyes tore his pubescent heart. She promised him her dark affections and he took it with willing hands at the expense of his inheritance. The once lively streets now turned dark and gloomy as the kingdom's monarchs fell at the hand of their own son.

Yet it was not enough for the young red haired witch who looked towards another land where an old tyrant king and his golden daughter lived.

This was the boring story that the young petite princess heard when she woke up in the dirty and dinghy cottage of a gloomy slouching elderly who wore a crooked smile plastered on a twisted face.