Compilations of Short Stories

The changing of the leaves

As history and archeology has shown, the world wasn't always over run with mankind. The world has held many secrets close, refusing to let the selfish species learn the truth of a beauty that is celebrate; the changing leaves. Symbolizing the end of summer and the approaching harsh winter, the changing of the leaves could be seen as a new beginning. The truth, a much sadder tail. Many millennia ago, the world was over run by creatures that could be called fairy tails now. The warlock Alaric had belonged to a village, Barkridge. The sun had always had warm, vibrant rays; showering the eternal green hills with life. As the sun rose every day, Alaric would spend his hours aiding his father brewing potions. No child of magic had toys, instead they were trained in the art of potions and wand-craft. While he had never talked to her, he had always loved a witch in his village called Autumn. Alaric has always believed that the way her flowing red locks had captured the attention of the sun was magic, but the sunlight wasn't the only thing that Autumn's beauty had attracted. Every warlock in the village had fanned over Autumn, Alaric knew that a witch as beautiful as Autumn deserved so much than he could ever provide. As they exchanged passing glances as Alaric was brewing potions, a terrible thought had passed through his mind; a love potion. As the weeks passed, the devilish though had grown more furious in his mind. It seemed as though he couldn't control his actions as he gathered the materials. Using rose pedals, honey, and water from the near by spring, Alaric had brewed the potion the way her father taught him; with patience and passion. Using all of the feelings for Autumn that had flourished in Alaric. Knowing that all Autumn needed to do was breath in the air of the burning potion, Alaric had decided to ask Autumn on a walk, which she kindly agreed to. Once Alaric and Autumn were deep in the forest, Alaric had started a small fire for them to rest around. After sprinkling the potion into the fire, the flames turned a furious red, almost as beautiful as Autumn's locks. The light in Autumn's eyes had changed, there was something wrong. Alaric felt the wind shift, and the rustling of leaves grew unbearably loud. Autumn had let out a strangled whimper, grasping Alaric's attention. The fiery red color of her hair was now fading into a dull grey. Her once soft, youthful skin was wrinkling and becoming fragile. Her once perfect posture was diminishing. Autumn was no longer the beautiful maiden from Barkridge. Alaric had watched Autumn crumble into a pile of dust, being swept away with the wind. The pain of losing the woman he had craved a life with was too crumbling him. As the wind began to die down, Alaric spoke words of magic into the wind, and under the universe. As Alaric had doomed the life of Autumn, he also had changed the course of the universe. Where there were leaved that were always green and crops that always grew, Alaric's words had changed. He had doomed the beautiful, young green leaves to change into a red color; the same bright red that had been Autumn's beauty. As quickly as the red beauty would appear, the leaves would then crumble and be swept away in the wind, just as Autumn was. Wanting to honor the love he had for Autumn, Alaric had vowed that this would be the last spell he would ever cast as he gave himself to ensure that the leaves would always turn the beautiful red color that he had fell in love with.