Most fairytales do not actually end in “happily ever after.” The price for the magic is too high for it to be anything but a hollow, pyrrhic victory. 

As a witch living in the woods, I see my fair share of desperate souls come for a little bit of magic that might spark hope in them only for them to fall to the price such things hold. I've even had my share of repeat customers, greedy and endlessly searching for the magic solution that will fill the gaping hole in their hearts, or even souls who have fallen into despair when the price takes its hold and beg me to reverse it. I gained no pleasure from seeing such souls, but I do what I must. She, however, is different.

She is but a simple commoner. Not a princess nor overly impoverished yet I dare say she would be the heroine of this little fairytale. Her first visit she asked for a remedy for her father. He had fallen seriously ill and I began my warning that all magic has a price. She didn't hesitate to offer years of her own life to add them on to her father’s.

“Enough that he can see the little ones grow.” She said as she held her hand to me, waiting for me to shake it or take the years she offered; she did not care. Her life would be shortened by a decade, and her father would live another one. 

Aside from her boldness and lack of hesitancy, I hadn’t given the interaction much thought once she had left. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to be asked for remedies of such a nature. They also tended to not come back.

The second time she visited I was surprised. Despite knowing her life would be cut short she seemed at peace, happy even. She bowed deeply to me.

“Thank you for saving my father, he has lived well these last few years thanks to your grace. I fear I must ask for your aid once more.” 

“Young one, you must remember all magic holds a price, and the same price cannot be collected twice.” 

Her plea was sad. War was ravaging the land, and the enemy would scorch the earth as they passed. Her village was under threat of attack, and was in need of protection. The men were standing ready to defend their fields and homes, but soldiers they are not. They would surely perish without intervention. 

“Just as years were given for years before, life must be given for life.” I shake my head.  The maiden was kind and generous, surely she would not wish to sacrifice others. I was correct, but her next words shocked me.

“Then take my womb. Take the potential of new life and give it to the villagers.” 

I warned her to think carefully of what she asked, but she insisted. I warned her of the pain she would need to endure, but she did not waver. When I saw I could not deter her, I performed the spell as she screamed from the pain of a hundred births. 

When I finished my spellwork she was crumpled on the floor, breathing raggedly, barely hanging on to consciousness. The sight of her stirred some long buried compassion in me, and I lifted her to my bed. 

“You have done well,” I assure her, “You have saved your entire village.” I caress her hair and she smiles before letting oblivion take her. It has been centuries since a person has stirred me in such a way. I continued to soothe her through the aftershocks.

Hours pass and it is late into the night before she awakens. Her eyes are swollen from the tears she cried and her hands are marred from how tightly she clenched her fists, but when her eyes finally focused on me, she smiled weakly.

“Thank you.” she whispered, her gratitude unfounded. 

“You have sacrificed the future for the present yet again. Thanks should not fall from your lips.” I huff. She laughs in response, and despite it coming out weak and gruff, I can’t help but think it is one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.

“You should visit the village one day. Then you may judge if my decision was foolish or not, because I believe I have made the future better.”

“A naive notion if I ever heard one. Any husband of worth will desire an heir, and you are now barren. There are few things a woman can do to support herself without a husband, and none are ideal. You will spend your life toiling in such work before your life is cut short in payment for the years you sacrificed for your father.”

“Then toil I shall. I shall toil in land that was spared the scars of war, with siblings who grew under a kind father’s guidance and a village of people who care for one another enough to put their lives on the line. Have you not known the strength and love of a community?”

The question shook my heart. Had I ever known such a thing? I cannot remember. There was a time before I was exiled to the woodland, a time something like that may have been in my grasp, but I cannot remember it. Even trying to remember that time causes a fog to cloud my mind and I have to breathe deeply to steady myself.

My silence seems to answer her question. She sits up and reaches out to take my hands into hers.

“Come with me to my village. They need not know you are a witch, and we welcome anyone who is kind to us.” She implored me.

“I cannot. I cannot leave the forest. It is part of the price I pay for my power. If I try, I will surely join the forest instead.” I turn away from her, but do not take back my hands.

“So your seclusion is not of your own will?” She grasped my hands tighter.

“Perhaps it is, perhaps it is not. Perhaps there was a time I was as desperate as any of the souls who seek my aid. Perhaps once I too sought magic as a desperate remedy. Perhaps not.” 

I sigh and pull her hands to my chest and hold them as precious things. The warmth of her kind heart radiates through them and I find myself reluctant to let them go. Luckily she does not attempt to take them back just yet.

“Perhaps?” She urges me to continue.

“I cannot recall. My memory of that time is hazy. Whether it is the haze of time or magic it matters not; the result is the same. I cannot recall the time before I was the witch of these woods.”

“Do you have a name?” 

I cannot answer her. A name? Do I have a name? No. Witches have no need for names. Witches disappear from the narrative once they have played their role. What use is a name?

I release her hands and stand up. She watches me as I walk over to the wardrobe and pull out a cloak.

“Take this and be off. The sun will rise soon, and I’m sure your family is worried sick after the battle last night.” The cloak has a spell to ward off predators, but I decide against telling her that. 

“Oh, I shall wash and return…”

“Don’t bother. You may keep it. Just hurry and leave.”

“Did I offend you in some way?” She seemed shocked and saddened by her sudden dismissal and I could feel my heart break.

“You did nothing wrong. You simply must return now.” I cannot stop myself from stroking her hair, and she makes no move to stop me. She flashes me a smile before attempting to stand. As she does her legs give way and I catch her.

“Does it still hurt?” I ask her and she nods her head into my chest. I sigh, “Very well, I will make you tea for the pain, but you must leave once the sun has risen.”

“You are truly kind.”

“Witches are weak to those with kind hearts such as yourself. Were your heart stained with greed and selfishness I would not be so kind.” I lift and carry her to the dining table and sit her in one of the chairs. Her face is flushed but when I check it doesn’t seem like she has a fever.

Tea with her is the most fun I have had in centuries. She tells me about her family and life in the village. I begin to relax as I listen to her sweet voice. Whatever I was fretting about before doesn't seem to matter anymore. I'm almost disappointed when light starts to peek through the windows.

We say our goodbyes for real this time. I watched her leave until I could no longer see her then lay on my bed where she had laid, hoping to get some last remnant of warmth from it.

The years between her second and third visit were fraught with dread and anticipation. Three visits was traditional for repeat customers, and I longed to see her again. On the other hand I hoped she would never be in need of a witch again. I prayed that she would have a happy life that would not lead her to my door again.

During her third visit she was just as radiant as ever. She greeted me as an old friend and I invited her inside for tea.

“What brings you here my dear? You seem far too content for someone who seeks the aid of a witch.”

“Sought you I have, and I am quite content. My father passed peacefully, surrounded by his loved ones. War came and went and though we bow to a new crown our harvests are plentiful and our taxes are lean. My siblings have all begun their trades and found love. Truly this is in every way the future I prayed for.”

“And yet you are here. There must be a desperate longing in your heart, some way you are discontented.”

“I suppose there is. There is a longing I feel every time I gaze upon my siblings and their spouses.”

“You desire love.” my heart fluttered.

“Yes, I recently realized I could no longer go on suppressing the love I have kept hidden for many years.”

“Oh.” I could feel my heart sink. Of course she had someone in mind. Not that it would be possible between us in the first place. “And who is the lucky fellow?”

“They are someone who has helped me much over the years. I’d dare to call them my family's benefactor. They stole my heart with their kindness and ageless beauty, but I knew I must be by their side when they saved me once more.”

“Oh? What happened?”

“I was pursued by the worst form of suitor, one that did not understand the meaning of rejection. He attempted many times to woo me. Eventually he attempted to corner me and force me to become his wife. However, my benefactor had seen fit to protect me from harm and he was driven off.”

“I see. This man likely would fall for you on his own, you do not need a spell for this.”

“I’m not here for a spell, and it is not a man I long for.” Her smile was radiant as she spoke her next words. “It was the cloak you gave me that saved me from that awful beast of a man.”

The cloak you gave me. When the words finally registered it was as if they rang in my soul. I reached for my maiden’s hands and held them to my lips. I kneel before her.

“The woman who gave you that cloak has long loved you, but my beloved, being by my side will not be easy. I cannot leave the woods, you would have to live here with me. I cannot meet your family and I cannot marry you in your village church. You would have to give up your ordinary life.”

“I came prepared to pay that price.” and she sealed our deal with a kiss.

She has been by my side ever since. We cannot wed, so we live as lovers. We can never have children, even with magic. Our time together will be cut short a decade, and I will be left alone in a world without her. 

However, as I wake up beside her each morning, snuggled in my arms, or when she twirls around our kitchen, humming as she cooks, or any time she smiles brightly at me, I feel no hollowness, only joy and content. I used to believe magic couldn’t bring happiness, but it brought me her, and there could be no greater happiness.