• It was a strange sight to see Namine, who normally spent her hours drawing, actually sitting with her sketchbook and a regular pencil…writing. She didn’t know why she wasn’t drawing; she just felt like writing a little story today.
    A story with a lot of meaning, in her book. One with no title, but a lot of characters and a tiny little plot…

    ~*~

    Once upon a time there was a little witch who was treated like a princess. She always wanted to be a princess with a handsome prince and a happy ending, and one day a blue-eyed boy swept her off her feet and made her believe that dreams could really and honestly come true.

    ...At least, as true as they could without those issues of other distractions that came in the form of a raven-haired princess. The “princess witch” was nice to this traveler of their tiny but enormous castle, but the latter had her eyes on the blue-eyed prince and him alone. Much to the witch’s sorrow and dismay, the weeks went on and her savior slowly ceased to visit her lonely room in the tallest tower—preferring, of course, to spend his time with the true princess that rested in the main halls below the pale witch-princesses’ tower.

    Though she was saddened by this news, she never showed her full emotions and her feelings. Not even the Lord of the Castle knew of this incident, though he would notice her staring after the blue-eyed prince with a bit of longing in her eyes. When this emotion finally started causing her magic powers to taper off, the Lord approached her and questioned her harshly about what was going on.

    “I merely want the prince to be happy with the princess.” She quietly replied, standing up and smoothing her gown as pure and solid as untouched snow. “After all…” She broke off, moving to grab a book from her extensive collection that the Lord would give to her so she could draw scenes from them that would benefit her Lord. “…After all, my Lord, why would anybody allow the evil witch to have a true happily ever after?”

    He never came back after that. Neither the Lord nor the blue-eyed prince would talk to her anymore, but the latter would sometimes say a word or two before going on his way. Despite the intensity of her powers, the little witch-princess was a nice witch and her powers she tried to use for good. She could have had revenge on the raven-haired beauty that stole her reason and her future away, but she knew it was for the best.

    ‘What kind of prince would love a witch like me?’ she thought to herself for the final time that week, sketching a picture of the sun as it began to disappear on the horizon. ‘Who, for that matter, could love someone like me?’ The witch-princess soon found her answer when she met him the next day.
    ~*~

    Footsteps made her flip over her book and start to sketch in fear that Marluxia would find her writing and burn what took days to think up and finally start writing. But it was merely Shu Fang that entered in this time, smiling at the blonde who then smiled back. The blonde was somewhat jealous of the tan-skinned, auburn-haired beauty with the eyes colored like amber—she was a pretty girl with what looked like an Arabic background despite her…interesting eye and hair color. But Shu was nice, and the Memory Witch was glad for the conversation that ensued with her entrance.

    A few minutes after Shu finally left, Namine flipped open her book and continued writing…

    ~*~

    It had been an accident at first—more on the part of the witch-princess, who had broken the rules by escaping her tower to explore the castle once again. She hadn’t seen the male coming her way, and the next thing that any of them knew she was on the floor…and so was he. The two of them knocked each other over. A blush colored the witch-princesses’ cheeks as she quickly scrambled up and tried to flee…but the brown-haired boy grabbed her arm gently and called out in such a gentle voice, “Please don’t run. I’m so sorry…”

    So the witch stopped and waited, watching him as he let go of her arm. Before the brown-haired, brown-eyed knight could speak his name she felt a vine wind its’ way around her wrist and yank her backwards into a waiting portal of mad blackness.

    A scolding or two from the Lord found the witch-princess now locked up in her room and without a definite way to get out. The witch-princess thought and thought to herself, sitting on her chair in the room that was a prison and the freedom from the world that made up slavery to her Lord.

    What had she done to deserve being locked up in here? What did she do to earn the punishment she was given? Had she embarrassed her Lord by meeting the brown-eyed prince? Was this prince someone she was not supposed to see?

    A knock at her door caused her musing to break and, stunned, she didn’t answer. Whatever was there knocked again and the witch-princess got up and walked over to the door, placing a hand upon it as she nervously—but calmly and gently—asked, “Who is there?”

    “It’s me.” Was the only response she got back, and automatically a warm and fuzzy feeling entered where her heart would be, making her place her free hand there as a confused and mixed look crossed her face.

    “…You? Who would this…’you’ be?” she asked yet again, not sure if this were some sort of trick being played upon her delicate person.

    “…I am but a lowly prince who requests to meet the princess who was taken away from the beginnings of a conversation.” He replied, causing a blush of surprise to taint her cheeks as she moved back from the door.

    “I…I am not a princess. I am a witch…and witches never should talk to princes, because princes don’t like witches…” she murmured, now leaning slightly against the door. He heard her, heard her words, and a bit of pity entered his heart…as well as a bit of anger. Had his Lord caused this beautiful maiden beyond the door to fall so far as to deny herself a rank? Had he caused her to believe everything that he—and others who disliked her—spoke and said behind her back and to her face?

    “My lady…” he replied, looking towards his feet as her answer reached him, filled with saddened emotion. “I…I am sorry if I harmed you by my thoughts. It becomes quite lonely up here…and the Lord said that I must do as he requests or I will remain a prisoner in this tower forever.”

    “That cannot be! I…I will talk to him. I will help you!” He blurted out enthusiastically from the other side of the door, and for what seemed to be a while he noticed she fell silent. A creaking of the door signaled that she moved, and her voice became so soft that he had to put his ear to the door to hear her.

    “Would you…truly help a witch, sir?”

    Though she could not see him, he nodded anyway. “Of course I would. Why would I not?”

    “Because I am not a princess or even of royal lineage like the others here, and witches never do get a happily ever after or even receive an offer like the kind you have given me. No witch, in any of my storybooks, has.”

    “But you are not a witch in a story book. You are not in a storybook at all. You are like a princess trapped in a castle and merely treated like a witch. I know this because of the time we first met. At that one point, I knew…I knew you were different.”

    She fell silent once more, and footsteps coming up the corridor made him hesitate.

    “I...shall take my leave. I will be back again. I promise!” He vowed, and the witch-princess could hear his footsteps mingle with others as he left.
    But she did not mourn his leaving—oh no. The child merely smiled at the door with such a smile that had never been seen on her since the first time she arrived, and turned towards her window.

    Striding towards it, placing a hand on the bars…she knew, oh how she could feel it in the depths of her heart that seemed to exist and not exist at the same time…
    Maybe…there was a chance…that she could finally receive a happy ending after all.

    ~*~

    It gave her a writing cramp afterwards, but she finally finished what she needed to do. Blowing the eraser marks off the page, the blonde Memory Witch smiled at the page beneath her…and froze when she felt the warm breath of someone else brush against her ear.
    “You wrote this? It’s…really nice.”

    She did jump up from surprise—as did the male who had just spoken, though he just jolted a bit—and turned around to meet the face of Crescent. He was only a little taller than her and looked so much younger, but she knew it was because of everything that went on. She was smiling weakly as she willed the adrenaline to leave while he was watching her with an embarrassed expression and a smile that was just as…pathetic? Maybe it was. “S-sorry, Namine…I couldn’t help myself. It was a really good story, though. I liked it.”

    She paused for a minute, the smile becoming a bit bigger and warmer as she nodded and replied, “Yes. It…is a good fairytale, isn’t it?”

    “I wish life were like that—just a simple fairytale, a good one…” He responded, looking down at the book in her arms.

    “If life were a fairytale…I’d love for it to have a happy ending…” she replied, moving towards him as he spread his arms and then embraced her.

    ~

    As long as nobody else knew of her fairytale, then it could truly have a happy ending.