So, I'm finally posting something, yay! After dealing with creativity issues this past week, I finally managed to write the first part of the story. Hopefully by tomorrow I finish writing the rest of the story. And then I will be able to post about two ideas I got this past week.
Crimson Amanda changes her colour
She lounged leaning her head on her sculpted
wooden throne, covering her face with her wrinkled hands. Lately, she suffered
nothing but failure in anything she did. What could have happened to strengthen
those people so badly that they actually resisted her plans?
“Madam Amanda”, a squeaky voice echoed
throughout the imposing gothic room.
She
turned her head towards the large wooden door on which two golden dragons moved
aimlessly. A short man stood in front of the doors, staring at her intently,
the sheer size of his surroundings making him seem even more insignificant. But
the woman called Amanda knew better than to underestimate her right hand.
“What is it, Dwarf? Is there anything so urgent
that it warrants interrupting the thoughts of Her Wickedness Wicked Witch Amanda?”
she said with a cold voice.
“Maybe not, Madam Amanda, but I thought I
should announce you that by tomorrow every servant will have left you. I hope
you understand that we must take care of our lives and our families and the
work under you has become too dangerous. The rest wanted to leave without
announcing you, but I have been your faithful servant for over 20 years and I
felt I owed you at least that.” the man said in an even voice, sometimes his eyes
glittering with tears.
“Well, if that is your decision, don’t expect
me to hold you here against your will. But don’t expect me to go easy on you
out there either. Once you left me, you’re fair game, I hope this is very clear
to everybody,” Amanda said in a calculated cold voice, while pretending to gaze
through the open window.
“I hope it’s not a threat, Miss Amanda, for if
it is, I wish to declare that I’d rather die than spend another minute in this
cursed castle! There is nothing you can do about it. You may turn me into a
snail, if you wish. Or even a fish, if that is your desire, and then leave me
to rot next to your throne. But nothing can deter my desire to leave. Even
death is better than spending another day here,” the man argued passionately,
his rough hands rumpled the dirty cloth that used to be a shirt.
“Well, death would be against the reason stated
for your departure, wouldn’t it? You yourself said everybody wanted to leave
because my business became too dangerous. Why the sudden change in character?
What am I missing, Dwarf? What is it that has you leaving?” Amanda said in an
even voice, reaching slowly for a pair of silver-studded crimson high-heels she
kept near her seat. She could see with the corner of her eye how the short man
shifted his weight form one foot to another, his whole silhouette suddenly
becoming the very emblem of embarrassment. “Dwarf, I already said I won’t be
doing anything in particular to those who leave me,” she reassured him while
putting on her shoes.
“Truth is, Madam, that your evil actions no
longer deliver the rewards that would warrant your attitude towards us. In
reality, I’m leaving because I think I can be a more powerful evil influence than
you. Most servants believe that your constant weakening would soon lead to your
final defeat in the hands of the more and more powerful heroes.”
“Oh. I see,” Amanda replied walking slowly towards
the man. “So I am not evil enough? Crimson Amanda is not evil enough for your
liking, Dwarf?” she whispered menacingly. Dwarf stepped back, trying to escape
the witch, but with one wave of her hand, the golden dragons stopped their
movement and the doors slammed shut.
“You will not intimidate me, Witch. Your regime
of terror only made us stronger and more eager to fight you. The time has come
to admit that your approach has become obsolete,” the short man said, trying to
keep his voice from showing the amount of terror he felt. “I shall fight you if
that is what you wish, Crimson Woman.”
“Fight me? It would appear that you consider
you developed immunity to my magic. Would you like to test this theory of
yours? For example, if I transformed you into a slug, to drag your body slimily
across the floor, letting the rest know that Amanda is not the woman to be
underestimated,” she said kneeling in order to stare into the eyes of her
interlocutor.
The fear
in the man’s heart defeated his willpower, so a salty drop of water fell from
one of his eyes. He wanted to ask her for forgiveness, but his pride made his
lips stay still. He could feel her breath, the rustle of her clothes caused by
her moving hands, the silent whispers. He knew he had no chance from the
beginning, but he had gained time for the rest of the servants to leave, since
were she to realise that they were abandoning her, Amanda would have punished
everybody severely. This way, it was only him taking the punishment, letting enough
time for the rest to arrive to a safe place, away from the witch’s influence.
Suddenly, Amanda stopped. She walked slowly
back to her seat and as she sat, the doors opened wide, the dragons moving more
feverishly than before, as if to express their happiness for being able to move
again. The little man was looking at himself bewilderedly. He seemed unchanged.
“Dwarf, you are not my opponent. Make sure you
stay that way. But don’t kid yourself, self-sacrifice makes no one evil” she added,
looking at him. He understood and left the room.
Amanda was all alone in the huge
manor. Hours ago, she watched Dwarf’s departure from the window, afraid she
might show how much she would miss him if she led him outside, and since then,
she hadn’t moved one bit. Since the beginning of her career wasn’t she without
any aid. She remembered that after the servants realised it was she who caused
the death of their master, her husband, they had all left her. For three days
straight she didn’t realise she was all alone, having locked herself in the
library to study her husband’s collection of magic books. It was then that she
decided that, in order to survive, she must become wicked. Everybody already
hated her because she was a witch; why not take advantage of her talent?
As a result, she sent sleep potions
to every beautiful princess in the kingdom, along with a letter stating that a
ransom must be offered for awakening the fair maidens. Some kings sent heroes
to her manor, while others sent entire armies to extract the antidote. Only one
gave her the money she demanded. In the antidote, Amanda mixed as a token of
gratitude a beauty potion, for when the maiden awoke to be more beautiful than
any other princess. Unfortunately, the two potions reacted with each other,
making the princess more beautiful than any other in the kingdom, but only able
to be awoken by the kiss of her true love. Saddened by this turn of events, the
king swore vengeance on the inexperienced witch. The woman was still able to
outwit both armies and heroes, mixing her mind-control potions in the drinks of
nearby inns. She then sent the mind-controlled armies against the kings until they
agreed to pay her a higher sum. Shortly after, Amanda had enough money to live
her life surrounded by potions and spell books. But that was no longer her
goal. She hired henchmen and servants through them did more and more elaborate
schemes in order to get money. She even stole the sun and the moon several
times. Once said sum of money was paid, she offered the hero information on the
weakness of the one guarding the treasure, making them believe that they had
killed their opponent, while she teleported her servant them to a remote corner
of the world, thus honouring her promise and removing any one who knew her
identity. Using others to do her bidding, Amanda kept herself and her faithful
servants away from the spotlight, fewer and fewer people knowing that there was
a mastermind behind most evil deeds happening in the land.
But steadily, the kings and princes started
to no longer pay for information on the weaknesses of the henchmen, relying in
stead on the increasingly smarter and stronger heroes and heroines. Even other
witches started joining the ranks of the good people. In the past months she
tried controlling the mind of a king in order to appear that he had gone
insane, to facilitate her offering to cure him later, but the scheme had fallen
when a healer removed her spell recently. It was this event that made her loyal
servants doubt her. If she no longer could do as much as control the mind of a
king, there was no guarantee that she could continue to set her henchmen free
from the prisons the good guys set them in.
What had made them so strong? Did
Amelia herself become soft? After all, she didn’t keep Dwarf by her side, even
though it could have been so easy. However, she didn’t change at all. Maybe
that’s what she did wrong: she did the same schemes over and over again. But
she didn’t. As soon as she saw a plan was becoming obsolete, she found
something else. But now, no matter what she concocted, she was defeated even
before registering her first success.
Why did her opponents become so
strong? Why were they stronger than when she first found them, and not weaker,
as they should have been after being drained of time and resources for so many years?
It was only natural for her, the victor, to be growing stronger. But had she
truly grown stronger since she started hiring henchmen? She felt so powerless
after they left. Every plan Amanda could think of involved at least one helping
hand, a commodity she no longer possessed.
“That’s it!” Amanda thought out
loud, rising herself from her seat. “I grew weaker as I had people to act my plans
in stead of me. They grew stronger as they had no one to rely on. I thought I
was evil, but I was in fact a good influence on them, helping them grow
stronger. Now that I think about it, the kingdoms that fought constantly
against me are the ones who have flourished since I started my career, while
those I had no interest in or actively aided are now subdued by them. It would
appear that I trained them without knowledge. As a result, I was good. The
Wicked Witch Amanda was in fact the Good Witch Glinda. Now this is a thought to
dread.”
Amanda, in her rush to confirm her
thoughts ran to the observation room, where she held information on all
kingdoms, ignoring the cold feeling of her bare feet on the black marble floor.
“I’m actually Glinda. But is Glinda actually me?” She continued to ask herself
while taking out papers, files and letters from all corners of the room. “Well,
maybe it is true. The countries she supports and defends are the weakest in the
land. And each and every battle they fought while she was away ended in their
defeat. While most have enough resources to build an army or defence systems to
keep away even the strongest enemies they refuse to do so, relying solely on
the good witch,” she concluded, seating herself on one of the imposing chairs
at a large table. The observation room used to be the dining room, before she
deemed it useless since she had no one to invite, so she had it transformed to
the room where she unveiled her plans. “This is interesting,” Amanda mumbled
while taking out a used piece of paper with a table that had numbers and names.
She compared it with other papers spread across the large table. “After every
great hero’s defeat, the kingdoms they served proved to be weaker than their
counterparts. Same goes with highly intelligent or deeply devoted rulers. Look,
when the leader left in a long quest, most of the time someone wicked seized the
power, the resistance of the people being insignificant. Maybe this is it: good
makes people weak, while evil makes them strong.”
The witch rose suddenly from her
seat. Everything became as clear as day. She had been living a lie.
“Evil is good and good is evil,” she
repeated endlessly as she dashed to the potion room, all the way to the other
end of the manor. There she began brewing several potions at the same time. “Naturally.
I have never been evil. I was always good: I helped people achieve their dreams
of strengthening their spirit and their soul. The Crimson Witch was all a lie.
Sure, there was my late husband, but I’m sure that he was happier when he died
than most of his servants. What do you think, Dwarf?” she asked, while looking
over her shoulder. Realising she was all alone, she focused on brewing potions
quietly. In order to prove she was still the most intelligent witch in the
realm, she had to drastically change her public image.
