Once upon a time, there was a village called Sambria, nestled in the heart of a forest near a mountain range. It was a modest village; its inhabitants were simple, hardworking people, but what truly mattered was that they lived in peace.
One day, an old witch, flying from the heights of the small mountains, spotted the cluster of houses from the air. She felt offended by the sight of such a happy community; she grew furious and gnashed her teeth. Fixing her gaze on the center of the village, she smirked maliciously and immediately devised a plan.
When dawn was still far off and everyone slept, the wicked witch descended and landed in front of the great well that provided water to the villagers. Stretching out her claw-like hand toward the mountains, she made a massive boulder float from behind them. She brought it gliding through the air and, without making a single sound, placed it over the well, sealing it completely. She kept her clawed hand pointed at the rock while resting the other against her chest. Then, bowing her head and closing her eyes, she whispered a rapid prayer in a strange tongue amidst the darkness.
The next morning, a young girl went to the well early to draw water as usual. But upon arriving, she stood shocked at the sight of the enormous boulder sealing it shut.
Immediately, with trembling face and dismayed eyes, she hurried into the streets. Seconds later, she returned with three tall young men. When they saw the scene, their brows quivered, and their mouths hung open in disbelief.
The news spread like wildfire, and soon the entire village gathered, staring wide-eyed at the site. The three young men set their jaws and shrugged their shoulders, proceeding at once to push the boulder. To their surprise, it was so heavy they couldn't move it even an inch. More men joined in, but no matter how much force they applied, the stone remained motionless. Eventually, the entire village united to roll the giant rock away, but despite the crowd's collective effort, it would not budge.
“Something is wrong here; this is impossible,” said one of the men of Sambria.
“The only thing I can think of is that some prowler doesn't want us to drink water anymore, because this was clearly done by someone outside our village,” a woman in the crowd remarked.
At that moment, the surroundings darkened. As everyone looked around in confusion, the voice of the wicked witch echoed from everywhere.
“Yes, I am the prowler you speak of, and I have come to end your happiness,” she cackled. A collective chill ran through the plaza. People glanced at each other with suspicion, searching for a face in the shadows. The air grew thick, making it hard to breathe, and cold sweat began to crawl down their foreheads, yet they saw no one.
“I cannot tolerate the peace in which you humans live. That well shall never be uncovered, and you shall never drink water again. If you do not leave and end the existence of your village, you will die of thirst. My dark enchantments are irrevocable! Hahaha!” Her sinister laughter made the nerves of every Sambrian tremble.
The daylight returned, but everyone remained frozen with lost gazes, until one man spoke, half-panting, “She put a spell on the rock. We have to do something; we must at least try to break it.”
“Does anyone know a breaking charm, or know someone who can help us?” another villager shouted, but silence reigned.
“I’m already getting thirsty,” an elderly woman said, and everyone began to grimace with tearful eyes, not knowing where to turn.
In that instant, a middle-aged man spoke up. “I think I know who can help us.” He stepped forward, and everyone turned their fallen faces toward him.
“Before I came to this village, I was wandering lost in the forest. I was out of energy and had decided to give up, so I let myself fall to the ground. But then, I saw a feather fall on the dirt right in front of my face. With my last breath, I managed to lift my head, and what caught my eye was a small house not far off—a house that hadn't been there before."
"It was beautiful, made of wood that shimmered in the sunlight. A man came walking from there and helped me up with a great smile. He took me inside; it was a cozy place with paintings on the walls. He sat me at his table and gave me a large cup of coffee and a sturdy piece of bread. Afterward, I lay down on one of his large sofas and slept for hours."
"At dawn, I felt revitalized. We went outside, and he told me to take the right path to find happiness. I followed his instructions without looking back, and unexpectedly, in less than ten minutes, the village of Sambria was before my feet. I never told you how I truly got here because I thought it was a divine experience I should keep for myself. But in this situation, I think it’s our only choice.”
“But how deep in the forest is it? We’ve only ever hunted in the nearby areas.”
“The house is located near the western hills where the forest ends, about an hour’s walk from here. If anyone dares to undertake this journey, it must be someone strong and brave enough to endure the path and the obstacles within. No forest is safe; I say this from experience. I am too old and wouldn't survive it.”
Everyone looked at one another, shaking their heads slowly. No one dared to say a word. Finally, after several seconds, a voice spoke. “Fine. I volunteer to go into the forest.”
Everyone turned in surprise. It was a slender young man of medium height, about 22 years old. His clothes were simpler than the others—jeans and a beige undershirt. He lived alone in a small house on the edge of the village. He had never been very social, but the people knew him as a hard worker with a healthy physique. His name was John.
“I’ve always been drawn to adventure, and I have a good sense of direction,” he said bravely.
“Then say no more. There is no time to lose,” said the man who proposed the plan.
The whole village accompanied him to the entrance of the woods. The man placed a hand on John’s shoulder to show his support, smiling with a look that conveyed confidence. Thus, John began his journey into the forest until he vanished from sight.
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario