Post by Talon Windwaltz on Jul 19, 2009 0:22:59 GMT -5
(This is the story that is the assignment for History of Magic Class #1 Please read the assignment before reading the story, and PM me with your essays. I will delete your hard-worked assignments if you post them on the boards. Thank you.)
Once upon a time in a town near Constantinople there lived a powerful warlock and his daughter. The warlock was well respected by all the people who lived there, as he was wise and old and knew many of the mystical arts. With his vast knowledge of magic, there was no disease or army he could not conquer. His daughter was named Demetria, and she was the jewel of all men’s eyes which looked upon her. She was of olive complexion with long dark hair which fell in curls, and was slender in form, which made her beautiful to the eye. Though the sorcerer was no man of noble birth, all the emperor’s men took his powers to be a direct link with God himself, and sent all their sons to court his daughter – an endeavor most willing for the young men.
But the sorcerer was a goodly father, and loved his daughter very much. As such, he told her as the men began to come that he would not force her to marry anyone, but that she would have to make the decision herself. Yet he insisted, and most powerfully, that she make the right choice, and choose a man with all the makings of nobility.
The first man to court her was the Knight, who had fought in the wars against the Turks in the Lord’s name. He was a man of deep faith and strong character, but was lacking in intelligence. While there was no man who he could not conquer with his sword, he could not conquer Demetria with his words, for he had no heart. And as he had no life’s purpose but to serve God’s armies in battle, he had little money but that which his liege lord gave him.
So Demetria did not accept his courtship.
That night as she took a walk beside her father’s ponds as she did every night, she found herself attacked by a large wild wolf, which snarled and flashed its golden eyes upon her hungrily. As it approached her, however, it was felled by the sword of a swift man of noble stature. He was the most beautiful man, wearing white clothes of fine fabric with skin that outmatched the paleness of his robe, that Demetria had ever laid eyes on, and she saw that he was brave. “Who are you?” she asked this beautiful man, and he responded in turn.
“I am the White Prince, who comes from far away. Armies have fallen by my sword.”
And that night, she let him love her in ways that would only be suitable between those wed, knowing full well that he had not expressed courtship. She begged him stay with her, but he told her that he could not stay with her, but that if she wished to be with him, she must go away with him. Loving her father and all her world, she refused.
And in the morning, the suitors returned.
The second man to court her was the Philosopher, who had studied the ancient texts and was learned in all the deep matters and the reasons of life. He knew many more Gods than even the one true God, and even contemplated the existence of no God at all. He was very intelligent, but he did not dare face armies, and due to endless thinking and no working, he had very little money beyond what people gave him for lessons. Lastly, while he knew the words to all the lovers’ sonnets, he could not express them with proper emotion.
So Demetria did not accept his courtship.
And that night, as she took a walk beside her father’s pond as she had all nights before, the beautiful, pale man who had loved her returned. For many hours he told her the religions and sciences and histories of a thousand kingdoms that had existed over the course of a thousand years, and she saw that he was very intelligent. Once again, she asked, “Who are you?” And he responded in turn,
“I am the White Prince, who comes from far away. I have seen the rise and fall of empires.”
And once again, most sinfully, that night she allowed him to love her as only a husband should love his wife, knowing full well he had still not asked her to be his bride. She begged him once again to stay with her, but he again told her that her only option was to go away with him. So once again, she refused.
And once again in the morning, the suitors returned.
The third man to court her was the Poet, who had written countless sonnets and tales. He made children laugh with ease, made women buckle their knees, and brought joy to all those who had seen him. He was a gentle man, and his words wooed Demetria, but she knew that for all his wit and kindness, he was not learned, nor was he brave, and he certainly did not have any riches.
So, against her better judgment, Demetria did not accept his courtship.
And that night she once again, this time in hope, took a walk along the banks of her father’s ponds, hoping for the coming of that most beautiful man. And come again he did, and this time he spent the night with her beneath the moon and stars reciting poetry and sonnets that made her love him more than anything they’d ever done together the nights before. And she asked him, desperately, “Who are you?” And he responded in turn,
“I am the White Prince, who comes from far away. My love is eternal love.”
And once again, to her father’s shame if he ever knew, she let him love her again in that dark passionate way that we must not speak, knowing full well that even with his most romantic poems, he had not proposed their marriage. She begged him once again to stay, quoting the lines of his poetry to make him feel as weak for her and she did to him, but he only coldly replied that she must come with him and leave her world behind. So, with tears, she refused.
And finally, the last of the suitors came.
The fourth man to court her was the Duke, who brought with him an abundance of treasure won at the hands of Turks. He was the one who reaped the rewards of the Knight’s efforts, and he was the one who sat upon a throne in luxury, and he was the one who feasted at the Emperor’s table. And she knew with him she would be well-to-do, but he was a cowardly man who profited off the strength of others, and he knew nothing of anything but money.
So easily for her but most sadly for her father, Demetria did not accept his courtship.
And when the sun set she quickly ran down to her father’s pond and waited, counting the hours until the beautiful man would come again. And at last, the man with the white face and clothes appeared, and this time he showed her all the wealth he possessed. From rings of ancient kings and rare metals mined in untold mountains far away to the most coveted spices of the Far East, the man was by far wealthier than any Demetria had ever seen. And little Demetria asked him with surprise in her voice, “Who are you?” And he responded in turn,
“I am the White Prince, who comes from far away. And there which is my home is where all the riches of the Earth come to dwell.”
And once again, dreaming of rings and shining things, she let him love her most fiercely and unlike she had let him love her on all the nights before, knowing full well that for all his material wealth, he had not asked her for his hand. But before she could once again beg him to stay, he looked her in the eye and lay a single shining finger upon her lip and said, “I will not come for you again. You must come to me.” And he was gone.
And no more suitors came for Demetria.
She was left alone for days on end, and screamed into the night for her Prince to return, but he never came back. And the Sorcerer grew worried that his beautiful daughter had taken his words too strongly, and that she would never marry. Yet for all the bond he had with his daughter, he could not see the strain upon her heart, and one night she finally gave in.
“I will come! I will come! I will do anything to be with you again, my love!” She cried into the night, tearing her breast and shrieking for the White Prince to return.
And the White Prince did return, but not as the beautiful man he was before. When he returned, he was a horrifying monster, with teeth long as daggers that shimmered in the night and eyes from which blood fell like crimson tears. And the monster dragged her off into the night to be his terrible bride and dragged her deep into the Earth, his kingdom, where all the riches of the earth inevitably go.
He ordered her to kill her father and her suitors, and destroy all that she held dear, to dwell with him in deadly solitude in a never ending world of power, love, and all the riches of the Earth, and watch the nights go by forever.
But she refused him, not knowing now that it was too late to pay for her sins. She came to the Knight, but the Knight had no words for her, only his sword. She came to the Philosopher, but though the Philosopher could explain her in great detail, he ran from her in fear. She came to the Poet, but the Poet had no kind words for her. And she came finally to the Duke, who admired all the gold and silver she possessed and begged her to drag him back to her unholy realm as well.
And at last, she came to her Father, who threw himself from his tower when he discovered at last what had become of his beloved daughter, who meant more to him than anything else in his whole world. So finally, Demetria waited for the morning, when she knew her “White Prince” would hide away, so that she could beg the Lord himself to save her from her monstrous form.
But when the sun at last rose from the horizon, and God looked down upon the world in all his might, he had no forgiveness for the woman who chose to live in sin, and Demetria lay in ash before the glory of the Lord. And all the people came out and saw her remains atop her father’s tower, and sang praises to God for saving them all from the good sorcerer’s daughter with olive skin whose hair fell in dark curls and was slender, which made her beautiful to the eye.
The beautiful girl who had been made evil by the Devil.
But the sorcerer was a goodly father, and loved his daughter very much. As such, he told her as the men began to come that he would not force her to marry anyone, but that she would have to make the decision herself. Yet he insisted, and most powerfully, that she make the right choice, and choose a man with all the makings of nobility.
The first man to court her was the Knight, who had fought in the wars against the Turks in the Lord’s name. He was a man of deep faith and strong character, but was lacking in intelligence. While there was no man who he could not conquer with his sword, he could not conquer Demetria with his words, for he had no heart. And as he had no life’s purpose but to serve God’s armies in battle, he had little money but that which his liege lord gave him.
So Demetria did not accept his courtship.
That night as she took a walk beside her father’s ponds as she did every night, she found herself attacked by a large wild wolf, which snarled and flashed its golden eyes upon her hungrily. As it approached her, however, it was felled by the sword of a swift man of noble stature. He was the most beautiful man, wearing white clothes of fine fabric with skin that outmatched the paleness of his robe, that Demetria had ever laid eyes on, and she saw that he was brave. “Who are you?” she asked this beautiful man, and he responded in turn.
“I am the White Prince, who comes from far away. Armies have fallen by my sword.”
And that night, she let him love her in ways that would only be suitable between those wed, knowing full well that he had not expressed courtship. She begged him stay with her, but he told her that he could not stay with her, but that if she wished to be with him, she must go away with him. Loving her father and all her world, she refused.
And in the morning, the suitors returned.
The second man to court her was the Philosopher, who had studied the ancient texts and was learned in all the deep matters and the reasons of life. He knew many more Gods than even the one true God, and even contemplated the existence of no God at all. He was very intelligent, but he did not dare face armies, and due to endless thinking and no working, he had very little money beyond what people gave him for lessons. Lastly, while he knew the words to all the lovers’ sonnets, he could not express them with proper emotion.
So Demetria did not accept his courtship.
And that night, as she took a walk beside her father’s pond as she had all nights before, the beautiful, pale man who had loved her returned. For many hours he told her the religions and sciences and histories of a thousand kingdoms that had existed over the course of a thousand years, and she saw that he was very intelligent. Once again, she asked, “Who are you?” And he responded in turn,
“I am the White Prince, who comes from far away. I have seen the rise and fall of empires.”
And once again, most sinfully, that night she allowed him to love her as only a husband should love his wife, knowing full well he had still not asked her to be his bride. She begged him once again to stay with her, but he again told her that her only option was to go away with him. So once again, she refused.
And once again in the morning, the suitors returned.
The third man to court her was the Poet, who had written countless sonnets and tales. He made children laugh with ease, made women buckle their knees, and brought joy to all those who had seen him. He was a gentle man, and his words wooed Demetria, but she knew that for all his wit and kindness, he was not learned, nor was he brave, and he certainly did not have any riches.
So, against her better judgment, Demetria did not accept his courtship.
And that night she once again, this time in hope, took a walk along the banks of her father’s ponds, hoping for the coming of that most beautiful man. And come again he did, and this time he spent the night with her beneath the moon and stars reciting poetry and sonnets that made her love him more than anything they’d ever done together the nights before. And she asked him, desperately, “Who are you?” And he responded in turn,
“I am the White Prince, who comes from far away. My love is eternal love.”
And once again, to her father’s shame if he ever knew, she let him love her again in that dark passionate way that we must not speak, knowing full well that even with his most romantic poems, he had not proposed their marriage. She begged him once again to stay, quoting the lines of his poetry to make him feel as weak for her and she did to him, but he only coldly replied that she must come with him and leave her world behind. So, with tears, she refused.
And finally, the last of the suitors came.
The fourth man to court her was the Duke, who brought with him an abundance of treasure won at the hands of Turks. He was the one who reaped the rewards of the Knight’s efforts, and he was the one who sat upon a throne in luxury, and he was the one who feasted at the Emperor’s table. And she knew with him she would be well-to-do, but he was a cowardly man who profited off the strength of others, and he knew nothing of anything but money.
So easily for her but most sadly for her father, Demetria did not accept his courtship.
And when the sun set she quickly ran down to her father’s pond and waited, counting the hours until the beautiful man would come again. And at last, the man with the white face and clothes appeared, and this time he showed her all the wealth he possessed. From rings of ancient kings and rare metals mined in untold mountains far away to the most coveted spices of the Far East, the man was by far wealthier than any Demetria had ever seen. And little Demetria asked him with surprise in her voice, “Who are you?” And he responded in turn,
“I am the White Prince, who comes from far away. And there which is my home is where all the riches of the Earth come to dwell.”
And once again, dreaming of rings and shining things, she let him love her most fiercely and unlike she had let him love her on all the nights before, knowing full well that for all his material wealth, he had not asked her for his hand. But before she could once again beg him to stay, he looked her in the eye and lay a single shining finger upon her lip and said, “I will not come for you again. You must come to me.” And he was gone.
And no more suitors came for Demetria.
She was left alone for days on end, and screamed into the night for her Prince to return, but he never came back. And the Sorcerer grew worried that his beautiful daughter had taken his words too strongly, and that she would never marry. Yet for all the bond he had with his daughter, he could not see the strain upon her heart, and one night she finally gave in.
“I will come! I will come! I will do anything to be with you again, my love!” She cried into the night, tearing her breast and shrieking for the White Prince to return.
And the White Prince did return, but not as the beautiful man he was before. When he returned, he was a horrifying monster, with teeth long as daggers that shimmered in the night and eyes from which blood fell like crimson tears. And the monster dragged her off into the night to be his terrible bride and dragged her deep into the Earth, his kingdom, where all the riches of the earth inevitably go.
He ordered her to kill her father and her suitors, and destroy all that she held dear, to dwell with him in deadly solitude in a never ending world of power, love, and all the riches of the Earth, and watch the nights go by forever.
But she refused him, not knowing now that it was too late to pay for her sins. She came to the Knight, but the Knight had no words for her, only his sword. She came to the Philosopher, but though the Philosopher could explain her in great detail, he ran from her in fear. She came to the Poet, but the Poet had no kind words for her. And she came finally to the Duke, who admired all the gold and silver she possessed and begged her to drag him back to her unholy realm as well.
And at last, she came to her Father, who threw himself from his tower when he discovered at last what had become of his beloved daughter, who meant more to him than anything else in his whole world. So finally, Demetria waited for the morning, when she knew her “White Prince” would hide away, so that she could beg the Lord himself to save her from her monstrous form.
But when the sun at last rose from the horizon, and God looked down upon the world in all his might, he had no forgiveness for the woman who chose to live in sin, and Demetria lay in ash before the glory of the Lord. And all the people came out and saw her remains atop her father’s tower, and sang praises to God for saving them all from the good sorcerer’s daughter with olive skin whose hair fell in dark curls and was slender, which made her beautiful to the eye.
The beautiful girl who had been made evil by the Devil.