Short Mystical Tales

Little Ashes

"you listen to me, you insolent child, you ash-faced orphan, you are not going to the ball" my stepmother shouted at me, pointing her wrinkling fingers. I scoff. this woman isn't even my mother. what right does she have to take away mine for going to the ball?

My stepsisters laughed from behind their feathered fans and sharp glares. their grins piercing their fans as did their cackle. "come now, mum, she's clearly trying to say that she's so ugly that the prince won't even glance at her, can't we let her?" I frown.

"The invitation did say every maiden in the land, madam," I said, holding out the invitation to her before she snatches it off my hands and laughed.

"you are no maiden, you are but a mere servant, a maid" she hissed at me, her old wrinkling face clearly snarling at me as do the ones behind her. My stepsisters. Poor girls twisted by their wicked ugly hag of a mother. we could have been real sisters. If my father were still alive. If my stepmother was gone. and if they had treated me like an equal. But they didn't and so I became their maid.

"and you aren't one either" I growl under my breath as I walked away to the kitchen, going back into my garden. A luscious garden I tend to without my stepmother's knowing. She wouldn't care anyway. Always hauled up in the house or out at parties. She wouldn't even glance at this garden for a second.

Poor hag. So scared that she's becoming dust and soot she surrounds herself with younger men.

I sigh walking around calmly. The fresh smell of grass and flowers in the air. At least that was before a good friend and his oddly nice horse just rampages through my garden and my nice lot of grass. "well isn't this a pleasure" I sighed watching him hop off his horse.

"have you heard of my- I mean- the prince's ball. He invited every maiden in the land if she wishes to come. You can come if you wish to" he said politely, picking up a rose he picked from my rose bush to pass it to me. I worked hard to keep those roses alive.

"firstly, mister, don't pick roses from my own rose bush, " I sigh accepting the flower. I paused at mister. I forgot I didn't even know his name. he was a mere friend of mine who always walks uninvited but always brings me the joy needed.

"right, I apologize, I always appreciate the advice, miss" he thanked me, even though it was supposed to be common sense. Then again, I did meet this young man who strolled into my garden uninvited, lost and dirty, who barely knew how to be polite, a while ago.

"and do you even think my stepmother would let me join? You know the ball is for him to pick a bride. I don't come, it would mean less competition for my sisters" I ask. Raising an eyebrow at him. Even if he was dense at social norms he couldn't think my wicked stepfamily would let me leave the house grounds.

"it's a shame" he sighed.

"Why so?" I ask back.

"because I will be there" he hopped back on the horse. I pursed my lips. I did want to join. It would be fun if I could escape this hell hole with some wealthy man.

"I didn't know you are a maiden" I tease. "listen, if you leave the horse here instead, I might just be able to get there without my stepmother finding out"

"it's a deal then, I leave him for you and I'll meet you at the ball" he smiled hopping off and passing the reins to me. "maybe we can get a dance there as well"

"I'll meet you at the ball, mister" I smile, watching him run off. If this plan works, I might just be able to escape. Hopefully. All I need now is a dress.

I opened the dusty box I hid under my creaking bed. It's my mother's dress. Destroyed, of course, seeing as the second my "sisters" and "mother" saw me wear it a simple tea party, they felt the need to rip it up and tear it apart. However, if I fix it, I may just be able to wear it. "I should be able to sew this easily" I took out my needle and thread and began putting the dress back together.