The Witch and The Cursed Sword
The cave was dark. The black, smooth stone walls shimmered and sparkled as she walked past, like thousands of evil eyes following every step she took. She held her hand out towards the darkness in front of her and let the ball of white light she held in her palm grow bigger and stronger, chasing away the shadows crowding together in the corners.
Esmereld had managed to chase away the two young Demon siblings, inexperienced as they were, but she could feel them behind her, waiting, watching. This was their home, after all, and they had the right to protect what she wanted to – and what she was going to – steal.
Suddenly the passage she carefully made her way through came to its end, and she stood on a large ledge. Below her, she saw what she looked for.
In the middle of a large hall, made of the same black stone as the passage, stood a narrow table, and on it rested the sword. Its metal blade shone with a weak, gloomy light. It was begging her to take it away from this awful, dark place, to take it with her. It wanted to see battle again, it wanted to see blood.
She jumped down, slowly falling, her coat and wide skirts flowed around her. Being the world’s (she believed) most powerful witch, gravity meant nothing to her.
She landed on her feet beside the table with a soft thump, and smiled as she looked down at the beauty in front of her.
“Alrighty,” she murmured, “here we are.” She reached out towards the sword, feeling the joy of victory as her fingertips touched the hilt. But then something happened. At first it felt like a warm breeze flooding through her body, but within seconds the warmth grew stronger, hotter. She screamed as the fire made its way through her veins, tearing her apart and burning her from the inside. Tears flooded down her cheeks as she felt her powers die like something rotting away inside her.
“Yes,” a voice above her answered, “it’s the cursed sword, witch. It doesn’t answer to someone like you.” The Demon girl laughed as the witch cried out, but her laugh cut off abruptly as the witch used what was left of her powers to teleport. As she was still touching the sword, it followed her into the light and darkness.
The Demon girl stared at the empty table. Her brother flew to her side.
“What a bastard,” he whispered.
“Mistress will kill us. Tear us apart and eat us. We will be chewed for eternity.”
“Demons can’t die, silly. She will do something far, far worse. As long as we don’t get it back.”