Notes from the Author: The characters belong to one brain—Fujiwara Hiro. Borrowing them is simply one of my fancies; it applies to all the following chapters. This is my first attempt to write something about fairytales. You might find some errors, sorry about that, and the characters might appear OC. Still, from the bottom of my heart, I present to you another story.

:

Beliefs say that when you wished upon a shooting star, your wish will most likely come true. There are many twinkling stars as I stand here tonight and the glowing full moon rested just above my left shoulder.

Just like many evenings, I crossed my fingers again.

But this time, my wish is different. And I said it out loud, at the top of my lungs. I am hoping the heavens may possibly hear me.

:::

BEHIND

the

CASTLE WALLS

-PROLOGUE-

:::

Castles cast a spell of fairy-tales and magical kingdoms from far, far away lands to our minds. They bring to us the fantasies of bold knights, fair maidens, royal princes and legendary kings and queens. This is the home setting of romantic stories that often end with happily ever afters.

However,

Let me warn you.

This is not your typical fairy-tale.

The story went when the famous witch who lived in a broken-down cottage in a clearing deep in the northern forest, outside the borders of the prosperous Kingdom of West Lazuli, received a midnight visitor one stormy night.

Loud rapping sound came from the doorway and the witch obligingly opened it, after all it's not like that she received visitor everyday, especially these days.

"Whirlwind—gust of wind, let the door be opened, magic revealed

Trouble be what he carry, coming in the cold-time,

Upon the night with no moon in sight."

Suddenly, there was a terrific crash, rolls of thunder shattered the Earth violently but the air inside the little cottage was calm and different as soon as the door snapped shut. An eerie mist floated around the room, giving a slight chill to the daring guest even more when he stared to the witch's solemn round eyes.

Out of his sleeve, he produced an opened envelope of majestic, rich paper with the royal's seal on top of it. The witch took the crisp paper, gradually unfolding it without any word. The guest noticed how slender the witch' fingers were when he almost believed that the witch was a completely old hag, for she had her black hood on and for no living soul had ever seen the witch's exact true face.

"I am a royal messenger of the neighboring kingdom," said the man of thick accent and muscular built "My master sent me to give this message. She expects it adamantly the day before the wedding."

A cold voice replied behind the sinister hood, sending chills to his spine. The majestic paper in her hand was magically crumpled and was burned to ashes in her very palms.

"What prize your master is willing to pay?"

The guest rose from his seat, his rustling heavy cloak fell to his knees as he stood up. His strength hesitated for a moment when the light from the random candles started flickering, his hair almost stood on its end. The shadow casted by the brim of her hood wasn't able to hide the crafty half-smile on the witch's pale face.

"Your freedom."