Tale 1- The Beast of the Woods

 Unmarried wretch. Witch. Wasted daughter. All names she’d been burdened with before. Before she took up her sword and quill, and became someone else. Sheath the aspirations of her family in favour of her task, the one which could save her life, and return her long lost freedom. Freedom to marry, to choose her own life, and to be free of this burden. For now, however, she was free of the names, the harassment. And she’d given herself a new name. Nomad, magician, child of literature. Or, as she called herself, the Traveler.

Tale number one had been simple. A child, crying to their mother that they’d seen it, the beast of the forest. The mother, obviously, did not believe them, but the Traveler could. She’d approached the innocent one when the mother wasn’t looking, and asked them to recount the tale.

‘Many years ago, a prince lived inside a castle made of gold. Often, he would venture out in secret, to hear the wind’s music and play in the waterfalls. It was rumored that the forest favored this boy, and he was bound to return to it. One day, however, as his duties became much more extensive, he found himself unable to find time to play in the forest. Worse so, he began to wish to expand his castle, and started destroying the forest in hopes of having more space for his sixteen ballrooms and twelve banquet halls. Unfortunately, these plans never came to fruition, as the forest retaliated, and put a curse on the castle and the prince. Transformed into a horrible monster, he now roams the same forest he once loved, cursed to eat anyone who enters, or hand them over to his demonic servants. Sometimes, if you look hard enough, you may sight the beast in the forest, choosing his next victim…’

The Traveler listened to the child’s tale intently, thanking the little one for recounting it, and rushed off before the mother saw her. She sat down on a barrel on the far side of town and began scribbling down the first story, naming it “The Beast of the Woods.” That would suffice, and easy enough to gather. She watched as the mother took the child home, presumably for dinner, and her stomach grumbled- she hadn’t eaten in days. Well, she had a job to do. Her gaze wandered toward that dark forest, where a shadow moved in haste. Sighing, she stared down at the book once more. Ninety nine more to go. And of course he was watching. There may not have been a creature in those woods, but there certainly was a monster. And her life depended on evading him long enough that she could collect the rest of these tales, and earn her freedom. The Traveler sighed, and stood up. It was time to go.

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