Part 1 - Breaking Fables

Our First Hero ventures through the woods which is rumored to hold a powerful witch.

It is fabled that deep within the lonely forest, far off the beaten path where no man is advised to go, resides a rare link cut off from the Man-kind world. An old witch, some would say, who feasts on the hearts of those who trespass into her sacred realm hoping to be spelled with gifted power. Beautiful and divine this young woman is who has a voice which would make even the angels weep, others might tell you. All such ear whispers made the young prideful men in this secluded village eager to grace their own eyes upon the mythical creature within the dark haunting woods.

The townsfolk were quiet the following day after hearing news of an epic adventure about to take place. An adventure which would lead a single man into the misty wood, stray him from the road where no other dared to pass, with his mind set on finding their storied deity.

"He is crazy!"
"Absolutely insane."
"Aye, m'might as well go start makin' his coffin." Good people of the village would say had it been any regular man.

But our hero wasn't any ordinary man. He was well respected and held the title of an "Expert Hunter" throughout the land far and wide.

We will surely hear about this witch upon his return, the people thought eagerly standing together in a half-circle around the man, some mumbling little blessings in native tongues.

Standing to his full height of  5'11 he pulled a quiver full of freshly made arrows over his right shoulder before taking hold of his long light-weight hunting bow. He turned to give the crowd which had awoken early to see his departure a nod of assurance. He was determined to find this woman and bring her back as a trophy to show off among the others who had failed in doing so before him, either due to fear or to their own weakness against the hungry creatures of the forest. Without a single word leaving the man's lips he turned and was off to take on the dangers and awards alone.

         Long hours passed amid the dense grove. The trees towered, standing high above the Hero keeping the skylight out with it's thick canopy of hovering leaves. From far off the clash of rocks would echo throughout the forest canceling any soft bird or cricket chirping keeping our Hero in the stillness. The deep crunch of earth beneath his deerskin boots the only audible noise until delicate words came gliding between the powerful trees riding the wind making the Hero freeze. The words were of dead origin and the voice which sang them female. Even as the Hero stood there eyes and senses alert he could feel the plants coming to life all around him. She was nearby.

Instantly, the Hero's blood began to pump through his veins at a quick pace. Without further delay he took control of his feet once more and trudged on dead plants and fallen leaves over a small hill sporting a tight-knit row of trees following the song. For a second he questioned why a good portion of the forest's kingdom lay in ruin, and on that same second he instantly guessed it was the Witch's doing. But unlike ordinary men the Hero continued on, coming down the hill with a hand raising to pluck an arrow from the quiver, noticing the leaves on the ground were growing few and the plants near him had life and were a bright beautiful tint of green.

Certainly an illusion, he thought, clearing his mind of any further thinking.

At the base of the hill the Hero saw through a clearing of trees a small patch of untouched green earth with a mighty willow tree standing in it's center. Several long limbs of dark bark reached like arms towards neighboring trees, with twisting fingers expanding the dome of stringed leaves hosting every shade of green. Spots of pink and yellow flowers rested against its peeking roots, some with vibrant butterflies touching the pedals.

However, the Hero's eyes rested on the petite figure perched on a large root belonging to the willow tree below it's raining leaves. The young woman took no mind to the stranger in her wood yet the Hero was certain she was aware he was staring from his safe distance. From first glance she looked to be at a young age of twenty, more or less. Waves of thick red hair fell off her shoulders and ran down her back, threads almost as long as her body, each ending with perfect curls. Beneath some of the curls the Hero saw that she wore a short fern green dress made from hand out of light fabric which seemed to just hang off her shoulders.

The Hero's attention fixed on watching her small mouth form the words to the song he had heard just moments ago trailing through the forest. She sang them with precise tone, keeping the octave meant to carry the song with help from gentle plucking of a humble-sized mandolin propped at her thigh. Her voice was spellbinding, again the control to make possible movements was unthinkable until the song was over and there was the silence hanging over forest once again.