Theodora

I breathlessly run toward Elwen and Cordelia’s voices, finally catching up to them near the river. The panic ceases, the energy leaves my body in a rush, and I suddenly sink to my knees.

“Thea!” Elwen exclaims, running over and putting her arms around my shoulders to help me off the ground. “What happened?” Concern rings her eyes as she leads me back over the little bridge back into Murkfell village, beyond the reach of Granny’s shining sigils.

I gasp. “I saw — ”

Help me. His voice suddenly echoes through my head.

“I saw a b-bear, that’s all,” I stammer, before stopping to catch my breath and calm my fluttering heart.

The beast’s eyes still haunt me. Glowing amber orbs, pleading. So human that I couldn’t have the villagers hunting this poor creature. He had spoken to me. So, there is still a human inside, waiting to be set free. An enchantment by that witch, no doubt. I had to help.

Cordelia sighs. I can feel her eyes roll without even seeing her. “I see you dropped your basket,” she points out, sighing. “I’ll go back and fetch it.”

“I can go, Cordelia!” I offer, untangling myself from Elwen’s protective grasp and following Cordelia back over the bridge.

“No, you’ve already caused enough trouble, putting us behind schedule,” she objects. “Go with Elwen.” She dismisses me in a huff and stomps off into the woods.

Elwen smiles and beckons me to follow her. “Come on, Thea, you can help me make potions,” she says, putting her arm around me as I join her.

As we walk into the village, Amity and Jemma rush over.

“Thea!” Amity calls out, breathless. “What happened? We heard there was a ruckus in the wood.” Her face is laced with concern.

“Did you get lost?” Jemma asks. “I got lost my first time in the Windborne Wood too!”

“Well,” I begin sheepishly, “I did wander too far despite Elwen’s warnings. Then I saw a bear, that’s all. I didn’t mean to alarm anyone.”

“Best not stray too far in these woods,” Amity advises. “Many predators afoot! I’m so glad you’re alright though! A bear! How frightened you must have been.” She gathers her basket with a wave and heads off to continue her work.

“Let’s go make some tinctures and potions, Theodora,” Elwen says, pulling me along to the apothecary.

I stop her when I spot a puppet master outside his workshop with his marionettes, giving an impromptu performance to a small group of giggling children. “I want to see this, if that’s alright,” I tell Elwen, already gravitating towards the show with a smile on my face, entranced. One of the marionettes is of a young girl with long, flowing black hair, and was wearing a violet dress, while the other is of a man with pale blonde hair and amber eyes. A quiver of arrows is slung across his back, as he wields a bow in his hand. A simple crown with a small moon on it sits on his head. The craftsmanship is exquisite. The crown is an exact replica of a Moonbright crown.

“…alone she lived, until one morn, a Moonbright prince lost his way,” the puppet master narrates, the blonde marionette coming to vibrant life in his sun-worn, wrinkled hand. The golden crest of Moonbright sits upon the marionette’s chest. “Sun and light, his magic so bright, as bright as the brightest of days…so down she called her ravens so dark to swarm the unknowing prince.” Ravens suddenly swarm the poor, hapless prince. “Taken by surprise, even though so wise, he was never heard from since…”

Now the prince is replaced by a wolf, but the puppet master stops and looks at me. “I’m just rehearsing, miss, so this isn’t the entire tale…” he clarifies. “Are you familiar with the poem of how the Murkwood dire wolf came to be?” The old man’s eyes sparkle, despite lacking any distinguishable color.

All the children turn and look up at me, then realizing who I am, scramble to crowd around me, clutching at my cloak. I smile, patting their heads, then look back at the puppeteer.

Ezekiel, Murkfell’s puppeteer and toy maker | Created in Midjourney

“No, I’ve never heard this tale, but do keep going,” I urge, wishing for him to finish. The male puppet also has amber eyes… just like the wolf I’d met in the forest. I have lived in Moonbright my entire life but have never heard that one of our princes had been enchanted and turned into a wolf. When I was younger, I remember tales of the handsome young prince who had gone on a hunting trip and had fallen from his stallion, later succumbing to his injuries.

Was that old fairy tale the tale of the same prince who is trapped inside the wolf? I wonder.

Had the Moonbright monarchy lied to cover up the truth?

“You’ll see the entire performance at the Red Moon Festival, miss,” the puppet master tells me, “but I’m happy to perform it for you now if you wish.” He tilts his head as if granting me a wish.

“We really must go, Thea.” Jemma suddenly takes my arm and begins to gently lead me away. She turns and waves at the old man. “Goodbye, Ezekiel! We will come to visit soon!”

“He is very talented. Does he make those puppets?” I ask as we head to the apothecary.

“Oh yes, he makes all sorts of wonderful toys for the children,” she replies. “You’d never know by his looks now, but he used to be a woodsman. He would take the scrap wood and make toys for his own children, then he kept up the practice even after his children were grown. Now that he’s too old to cut down trees, he’s content with just making toys. But the puppets are his favorite.”

I nod, my mind racing, images of princes, wolves, and witches flooding through my mind.

We walk into the apothecary, hanging our cloaks beside the door, and go to the potions room, where Elwen is already busy with her work.

“Is that true what he said about the dire wolf?” I wonder aloud, taking a mortar and pestle and grinding a handful of herbs. “Was he a Moonbright prince before he was enchanted?”

Jemma nod, then clarifies, “Well, it’s the story we’ve always been told, at least. We have no way of truly knowing if a prince is trapped inside the wolf. But the creature is one of Ravyn’s creations, of that we have no doubt.”

I keep grinding, my mind working just as furiously as my hands. “So, what happens in the poem? After the prince is turned into the wolf?”

Elwin looks up, raising her eyebrows. “You’ve never read the poem, or heard the lore of the Murkwood dire wolf before?” she inquires, walking over to some sprouting herbs planted in a pot. “He was a Moonbright prince, after all. Well, allegedly.” She then waves her hands over them, where they suddenly grow to full size.

My eyes widen in amazement, just as Cordelia strides in and stokes the fire by simply waving her hands gracefully in front of it.

“I have to say, your elemental magick is quite something!” I exclaim, touching the herbs to make sure they are actually real. “Very handy. Anyway,” I turn back to my work and the previous conversation, “in Moonbright we were told the prince died due to a fall from his horse while out hunting. That’s it. No evil witches or curses. Just a simple, albeit tragic, accident.”

Even the elemental magick show couldn’t keep my mind off the topic of the prince.

Jemma bites her lip, looks at me, then fills jars with water — with her magick, not by fetching water from the water pump in the kitchen. “Well, according to the lore, the prophecy says the only person who can save him is a Moonbright witch. And here you are, out of nowhere, when we’ve never had a Moonbright witch come to Murkfell village.”

Cordelia scoffed, “Jemma, you silly girl. That story is just a fairy tale! The dire wolf is nothing but a wolf. A large one perhaps, but he’s not a prince enchanted.”

My mind swirls. Something is amiss here. A Moonbright prince was lost during a Murkfell Wood hunting excursion a century ago, and now a dire wolf is stalking the same wood. A dire wolf who can also speak and comprehend language. His words echo in my mind once more —

Help me.

It tears at my heart. I then decide that I am going to find this wolf again to do my own investigation.

Even if it means going back to the Murkfell Wood.

To be continued…

Chapter 7: The Prince and the Wolf

Chapter 6: The Witch of Windborne