Once upon a time, there lived a young maiden who fell in love with a nobleman. Every week, he would ride past her village on his way to visit a neighboring castle. He was handsome and rode well, and it was clear he took great delight in his occasional escape from the confines of his court. The maid plaited her hair and rinsed the dirt of the fields from her face and neck on these days. She took to offering him a pitcher of water, and the nobleman gratefully accepted each time, praising her kindness, and asking about her life in the fields. But she could still see in his eyes that his wealth and title still divided them.
Distraught, the maid remembered the village tales from her youth. Legend had said that four witches dwelled in the surrounding lands, each of them possessing unique power, and the ability to sway mortal hearts. There was Agata, the White Witch, who controlled the wind and frost, then Saelva, the Silver Witch, who held dominion over the forests, and Aurena, the Golden Witch, who could summon precious metals with the slightest wave of her hand. Last, though they seldom spoke of her, was Hecatha, the Black Witch, who was one with the night and shadow.
The tales said that the White Witch was always there for those in need, so the maid embarked on a journey to her mountain realm. With luck, the White Witch would take pity on her and grant her the means to win the nobleman's heart. Though the cold slowed her steps, the maid finally discovered Agata strolling through the snowy fields. The White Witch was both frightful and beautiful, decked in veils of crystal and frozen flowers. With a faltering voice, the maid pleaded for her help. Agata studied the maid and told her she would not assist her, as the maid had not yet earned the patience needed for true love. Concerned, the White Witch bade her to return home before it was too late.
But the maid did not go back. She sought out the Silver Witch deep in the forest caves, and asked for a potion to win her beloved's heart. Saelva was more intimidating than the White Witch had been, covered in glistening webs and moss, with hints of scales on her luminescent skin. Still, the maid could not look away from her entrancing gaze. Saelva said that the maid lacked the passion to sustain true love, and drew forth a flowing vine from her cave walls. Within it was a nectar that would allow the maid to forget the noble entirely. But still, she refused.
The maid persisted, journeying to the sunset fields, where the skies were tinged with gold. She searched for hours, wandering through the shifting grasses until she discovered Aurena. Her gown glittered with more gems than the maid had ever seen, and her flowing skirts captured the shades of the setting sun. But the Golden Witch was not impressed by the maid's plight. "You have not the strength for true love," Aurena said, and unclasped one of her bracelets disdainfully. "Wear this, and the nobleman will be gone from your thoughts." Though the jewelry was beautiful, the maid could not accept it.
Lovesick and weary, the maid had only one place left to go- the lair of the Black Witch. Deep in the catacombs beneath a crumbling cathedral, the Black Witch slept, awakening only at night. Her gown was the shade of poison, and her mouth was a void into the darkness. The maid was so frightened, she could hardly speak her request. When she finally managed to whisper it, the Black Witch smiled and gave her a potion that she promised would grant her dearest wish.
The maid returned home with the potion, elated but scared, and consumed with thoughts of how grand and mysterious the witches had been. They were so different from her, a humble maid so unimportant that the villagers had hardly noticed her long absence. She pressed on to the nobleman's castle and told his servants that she had a message for him. When he arrived, she nervously raised the potion to her lips and confess her love. But as she spoke the words, the maid began to transform, her garments deepening into a scarlet shade, her hair flowing loose and her eyes taking on a strange glow. The nobleman fainted away as though dead. A shroud of fog encircled them, and the four witches rose from it. "Welcome, sister," they said. "You are now Yeva, the Red Witch." When the nobleman awoke, the Red Witch had gone, but he was haunted by he memory of her shocking change. Obsessed, he had set out to find and kill the creature she had become. He rode south for seven days, to smoky ruins that had been devoured by fire. In the heat and ash, the Red Witch stood.
He remembered her as a monster, but upon seeing her again, he was struck by the regal beauty and sly confidence that had taken place of the maid's simple, sweet face. The Red Witch approached him, and told him she knew why he had come. He laid down his sword and fell to his knees, professing his love to her as naturally as if it has been his heart's desire all along.
The Red Witch reached out her hand, and accepted.
Story by Aphelion Cosplay