The Gazelle (A Rapunzel Retelling)

The Beginning

Although the little girl knew the first words of her favourite story by heart, they always captivated her.

"Twenty days," the woman began, sitting in her chair in front of the hearth. "That was how long the village had been awaiting the seasonal rain." She lifted the little girl onto her lap. "Crops withered. The livestock shrivelled like the parched ground on which they stood. No prayer nor hard work out in the fields could save the people from starvation.

Driven to desperation by the sight of his wife wilting as the plants did, a young man ventured across the desert in search of food. He wandered the land for hours, his hope diminishing with every drop of sweat falling from his brow. Finally, he came upon a Gilgarian witch's cottage, where he found a herd of gazelles. Even as his arms trembled with hunger, he killed one of them and carried the carcass home to feed his wife. She was going to have a baby, you see."

The little girl sat silently, watching the woman with enthralled eyes. They were blue, like the sky, but the flickering firelight turned them golden.

"When the rain finally came, the village erupted in celebration. Soon, the man and his wife had a little daughter. For that moment, the family was happy." The woman paused as she always did at this part of the story.

Impatient, the little girl sat straighter, as if by doing so, she could reach for the rest of the tale and pluck it from the air.

The woman continued. "One night, the man awoke to check on the baby, but she was gone. In her cradle was a set of gazelle horns."

The little girl's eyes went big. "It was the witch!"

The woman nodded, brushing back a wave of the little girl's dark hair with a knobbly finger. "Desperation once again sent the man on a frantic search, this time for his baby. He followed the witch's tracks, but when they disappeared into thin air, he had to accept that his daughter had been taken as punishment for his theft."

"But he and his wife were hungry." The little girl frowned. "Couldn't the witch forgive them?"

"Blood spilt must be repaid." The woman shook her head, as vehement as if it was she who had written that law. "That is why we do not trust anyone from outside this tower. Always remember that."

The little girl tilted her head, sensing a change in the storyteller's bearing without understanding it. A moment later, her face brightened, chasing away the clouds hovering over it.

"Did the parents find their baby?"

The woman's answer had yet to change, but the little girl kept asking this question, hoping that this time, the woman would tell her that the family had reunited and would live happily ever after.

"No, they didn't." The woman gathered the little girl in her arms and carried her to the bed on the other side of the round room.

"Do you think they will?"

"It is unlikely. The Three Kingdoms is a very big place." The woman tucked the little girl in and kissed her forehead. "Rest well now, my little gazelle."

The little girl's mind kept her up long afterwards, pulling her back with a new thought every time she dangled at the edge of sleep.

What had the witch done with the baby? Did the parents still miss their child? Was she even alive?

The little girl tossed, her mind brimming with unanswered questions. Stories always had happy endings. Why didn't this one?

This couldn't be the end. There must be more to it than the woman had told her. Maybe she would know how it ended one day.