A Holiday Fairy Tale, Part Four
Down, down, down, they went into the darkness. Hilda led the way, carrying a torch that made strange shadows dance across the walls. Greta clung to the damp stone, fearful of what awaited in the dark below. Soon, a faint light could be seen. As they reached it, Greta saw it was another torch affixed to the wall. A voluminous cavern opened before them, torchlights illuminating a maze of pathways flanked by stalagmites and stalactites. It felt as though they stood in the giant jaws of a dinosaur. Tucked off the pathways, were little rooms, and in the little rooms, were all of the lost creatures that Hilda had lured into her hut. The proud stag, the hare, the wolf, the lynx, the man, and countless others who had had the misfortune of choosing Hilda’s hut, were all trapped in this underground prison.
“Oh, Hilda,” Maria gasped, her hand covering her mouth in horror. “How could you?”
Hilda looked ashamed, then defiant.
“You don’t know what it’s like to be lonely; to be denied companionship simply because of an accident. I was beautiful once, until a fire destroyed me. It consumed my mother and my sister, both more talented witches than I, and it left me behind, a grotesque monster. Though my mother and sister had always used their magic for good, the villagers took one look at me and cast me out. And though my wounds still wept, they chased me with pitchforks and scythes. I ran until I could run no longer, and I found this abandoned hut. It sheltered me while I healed, the remnants of a garden sustaining me with its nearly rotten roots. As I gained strength, I planted seeds and cultivated herbs. I was able to make potions and tinctures to aid in my healing. I repaired the hut and transformed it into a chalet. I hunted for game. I built a meager life.
But I was lonely. I had always shared the company of my mother and sister, and I missed them so. At first, when the lost creatures passed by, I hid. The memories of being chased by the villagers were too fresh; but, oh, how I longed to speak to another living being; to ask a question, or trade vegetables for fabric, a potion for a needle and thread. The more time that passed, the more desperate I became- even just for one small interaction.
Finally, I had built enough courage to try. I promised myself that when the next lost creature came to the clearing, I would show myself and offer assistance. That very afternoon, a fox appeared. I had heard him coming, and rather than hiding, I remained in the garden, pulling weeds. The fox begged my assistance. When I turned to face him, he shrank back; and when I spoke, he turned and ran. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized that the fire had also ruined my voice. I hadn’t spoken a single word since that terrible night. There was a mirror in the chalet, you see, so I knew of my disfigurement, though I had only looked once. Even I couldn’t bear the sight of myself; but the thought that no one could stand the sound of my voice brought me great despair, and I feared I would die from the utter loneliness of my existence.”
Maria stepped closer to Hilda.
“Why have you never told me this before? During all of the years you kept me here, you never shared any of this.”
“What difference would it have made? I knew what I had to do to survive. It isn’t what I wanted, but it was necessary.”
“Surely there was another way.”
“I tried. Week after week I tried to give assistance to the lost. Week after week they turned away in disgust. So, I created a potion. It took me many months to perfect it, but finally I got it right, and one day, a lost boy did not retreat in horror. To him, I was the most beautiful woman in the world.”
She spat. “Creatures are so shallow. It did not matter that my voice was wretched, or that the potion had further disfigured my hands. All anyone saw was a flash of pristine skin, glossy hair, white teeth. That was enough. The rest of me was the same, but they never noticed. Even you, Maria, did not notice.”
“Hilda—”
“By keeping the creatures, I had company. I put a potion in their food that made them forget they were prisoners. They adore me. I believe they even look forward to my visits. And then, you arrived, Maria. You needed help just like all the others. You came willingly into my chalet needing food and shelter, and then you told me about your charmed life. How everyone loved you and you loved everyone, and you even had marriage proposals! It was unfathomable to me. Where was the cruel world that I lived in? How could life be so unfair?” The witch became contemplative. “I never understood how beings in such need could be stupid enough to turn away from help, simply because of how someone looked.”
“I don’t understand it either, Hilda,” replied Maria, “but here we are. It seems to me that you had the curse of coming across unkind and ignorant creatures. But not all are like that. If only you would let me help you.”
“I don’t need your pity or your help. And I don’t believe you. If what you said about your life was true, then you must be a witch as well. You must have blinded your family and friends with potions. Why did they not turn away from you the way everyone turned away from me?”
At this, Greta was confused. What did the witch mean? Why would Maria have needed to use potions?