Forever Fair: Chapter Five

Fifth chapter in "Forever Fair," which comes out March 20th--get your copy on Amazon.com!

 

            The roaring cries detonating from within the raging sea crashed against the shore, filling Azelia’s brand new sapphire slippers with grains of itchy, wet sand and murky saltwater. She looked beyond the infinite number of waves as they seemingly blurred together with the black horizon of twisted storming clouds. The chilling breeze iced over her, causing her to clutch her arms for warmth. The queen turned around and picked up her shawl, which lay underneath the seeping sword she had just used. Lifting it above her head, the shawl caught the breeze, drying what stains of blood managed to drip their way onto the cloth during the fight.

            Once Azelia had wrapped the shawl back around her shoulders, she picked up Jonathon’s old sword and stepped over the body of the so-called “most beautiful bachelorette” of the kingdom. The queen began making her way back to the castle when something in the bushes up ahead caught her eye. She sifted her way through the uneven sand, quickening her pace as the light started to fade. Shuffling faster and faster until she made her way to where the light once was. She moved twig after branch of the thick bush she currently found herself getting swallowed into. Her head jolted to look in the other direction, and then she heaved the sword in front of her narrow frame and stuck it deep into the ground on the other side of the bush. She shifted all of her weight to her forearms and pulled herself through the plant.

            After stumbling onto the rocky dirt, Azelia looked up to see a hooded man smiling down at her. That’s all there was to see: his smile. He was cloaked in an abysmal brown cape, a hood masking his face and casting a shadow over the bottom portion of his slightly crooked nose and thin upper lip. His slanted smile made the queen unsettled as she lifted herself up, wiping dirt off of her amethyst-colored

dress. She whipped her long hair over her shoulder and acted a little more composed, looking at him in an attempt to disguising how she really felt: curious and worried.

            “I won’t hurt you,” the rugged voice rumbled. She narrowed her eyebrows and placed her hands skeptically on her hips, cocking a sharp eyebrow. He gave a hardy chuckle and stepped closer to her, “Oh Azelia, Queen of Château Des Ténèbres,” the man stepped again, inching towards the anxious queen whose arms dropped back to her side as she bit her lip, “I have seen what you have been doing these past six months since your husband died.” He stepped closer and closer until he was only inches away from the queen’s face. Moving one frightened hand behind her body, she felt around for a handle but slipped on its tip. This unexpected slip sent Azelia tumbling to the ground.

            At the mysterious man’s mocking laugh, Azelia stood up promptly and shouted, “I am not afraid of you! But you should be afr�",”

            “Afraid of you?” The man interrupted, “Why would I be afraid of the queen who has been killing innocent young women’s lives?” Azelia couldn’t hide the shock expressed by her big, round eyes. “Why would I fear? You have no reason to feel jealousy towards a wizard,” the man gave a sly smile.

The queen stood speechless for a moment but then asked quietly, “What do you want from me?” She looked up angrily, as if steam were about to blow from her nostrils.

“I am here to simply offer you a proposition,” the man calmly replied, crossing his arms, his sly smile still spread across his broad bronzed face. The queen pursed her lips and narrowed her flashing eyes, studying the wizard’s countenance. He continued, “I know what you want.” She raised her chin and crossed her arms, still eyeing him closely, “you want no other woman, girl, or child to possess more beauty or attractiveness than you.” She bit her bottom lip again, taking longer, heavier breaths.

“How do you know that?” She spat out.

“Is it really hard to figure out?” The wizard quickly replied, “You only kill those rumored more beautiful than you.”

“What’s your proposition?” The queen quickly brought back, cutting to the chase.

“Ah,” the wizard replied with splendor, “You are not the fool you were leading me to believe you might be,” he gave a mischievous grin and stepped as close as he could to Azelia, taking her by the hand. Normally, Azelia would have taken much offense towards this kind of patronizing speech, but she wanted to know what this sorcerer could do for her. He leaned in, moving his mouth down towards her ear and whispered, “I have something that will always show you who is the fairest in all the land,” he was tousling her curls in between his fingers. Azelia’s face lit up, her eyes as big as saucers; she whipped her neck around to face him directly.

Looking into the shadow of his eyes she ordered, “Tell me now, magician.”

“I am not a magician, your highness,” the man retorted disdainfully.

The queen scowled up at him, “I am your queen, you shall do what I say.”

“Or what?” The wizard quickly snapped, “You will put me to death? Well, if that is the case, good luck finding the gift I could give you.” The queen dropped to her knees and clutched onto the dirty robe of the wizard, scratching claw marks into the fabric.

“I am sorry,” she desperately whimpered, “tell me how I can be the most beautiful…always…” The mischievous grin on the wizard’s face grew even larger.

“Well,” he sighed, “I can only show you how you can always know who is the fairest�"I cannot guarantee it will always be you.” This made the queen think back on the past few months of scrapping for information and apprehensively awaiting the news of hearsay from the town.

“This could take away my problems,” she whispered to herself.

“I beg your pardon?” The wizard replied.

“I will do whatever you want,” the queen pled, “just give me this ability.” The wizard nodded his shrewd head and backed away from Azelia’s clenching grasp. He lifted his arm up and waved it around at an empty space beside him. Azelia watched in awe as the image of a mirror began to appear. It was a large, plain-looking mirror with a golden rim and four identical legs spouting from the bottom. Azelia’s hands began shaking in excitement as she lifted them up towards her crazy, smiling face.

The wizard turned back to look at her, “This mirror will show you the face of the most beautiful woman in all the land if you ask it,” and with that, he motioned for Azelia to come forward. She scurried over to the mirror and looked into her reflection.

            “Oh mirror,” she asked eagerly, “Who is fairest of them all?” The mirror went blank just before showing the face of the queen, and her face alone. She trembled in ecstasy and turned towards the wizard in glee, “What is your price?” The wizard gave his sly smile and lifted up his arms, pulling back his hood, and revealing his face. Azelia was instantly struck by his handsome features: his deep brown eyes narrow and strong made his broad face somehow look gentle. His hair lay perfectly waving to the side of his forehead; the color was the shade of a lion’s mane, peppered with auburn flecks.

            “Marriage,” he replied.