The Witch’s Harp

Once upon a time, in a land long forgotten by time, there lived a man who had two daughters. The older daughter was very beautiful, with long blood red spiral curls and flawless ivory skin that seemed to glow in any light. Around her neck she wore a jasper sand dollar, given to her by her father as an early wedding present as she was soon to be wed. The younger daughter was beautiful as well with pale green eyes and dark hair, but she was very selfish and greedy.

Now the man to whom the oldest was to be married was a very rich man. He was so very rich that he lived in a Crystal Castle on a cliff by the sea, waited on hand and foot by many servants and owned most of the forests that grew in their country. Not only this, but he was a very handsome man and well known through out the land for his intellect and wit. It came about one day, the youngest daughter became very jealous of her sister and desired to wed the groom herself.

One day, just before the older sister was to wed, the younger convinced her to go for a picnic deep in the forests that lay beyond the Crystal Castle by the sea. Hesitantly, the older agreed to the picnic and followed as her younger sister traveled into the woods. They traveled deeper and deeper and deeper still, so that the older sister began to fear that they would lose their way and be torn apart by wild animals. Thinking quickly, she took a one ribbon from one of the braids in her long crimson hair and tied it around a tree branch. And, as they journeyed on, she continued to remove ribbons from her braided hair to tie around the trees. As she was tying one ribbon she began to sing softly,

"This day am I, ribbons I leave, the trail to find. My sister is beautiful, though her soul is intent to kill. Her deepest wish that I shouldst die. Weep for me, soft nightingale."

"What are you singing fair sister?" asked the younger.

"I was only singing of what a beautiful day this will be." replied the older sister and she removed another ribbon to mark the way.

Finally, the younger sister stopped and began to lay out the picnic. When she was finished she looked up to see that her sister's hair was loose and flowing, jealousy sparked inside her and she asked,

"Why, sister, what has happened to your ribbons so that your hair is loose and apt to be tangled by the wind?"

I feared we would lose our way, so I tied my ribbons to tree branches so that we might find our way back to the Crystal Castle." she replied, seating herself on the blanket.

"Ah, what a clever sister have I." said the false sister. "But come now, let us eat and enjoy the day before we must return to your husband's house."

As the day waned and the sun began to set, the sisters began to pack away their picnic so that they might head home quickly before dark fell upon the forest. When they had finished packing, the younger turned to the older and went toward her as if to embrace her. But just as the older's arms wrapped about her sister's waist, she felt a sharp pain in her chest and looked down to see a beautiful dagger buried inside of her. Her eyes grew wide in pain as she stumbled and fell back, the dagger's jeweled hilt stained with her blood.

Swiftly, the younger sister removed the dagger and began to hack away at her sister's white dress, shredding it as a wild animal would. Then she rubbed some of her sister's blood on her own clothing and face, slashing at her own arms and dress so that it looked as if she, too, had been attacked. Yanking the jasper pendant off of her sister's neck she ran back to the Crystal Castle, following the ribbons that her sister had left to mark the path.

Upon arriving at the Crystal Castle, the sister threw open the doors screaming and crying that her sister had been killed. The man of the house and her father came running to her, catching her as she began to collapse to the floor. Once she came out of her faint, she told them a story of how they had gone for a picnic and were attacked by wild animals as they tried to make their way home. She cried many false tears as she related that her sister was dead, producing the stained sand dollar pendant as proof of her lies.

At her proof, the two men began to weep. News spread quickly through out the kingdom of the oldest daughter's death and the whole of the kingdom mourned for her sake.

A year and a day after she murdered her sister, the younger was in her room preparing for her wedding to the owner of the Crystal Castle. Around her neck hung her sister's jasper pendant, still slightly stained with the blood of it's previous owner. While she combed out her long dark hair, a knock sounded on the heavy doors of the great hall, just below her room. Quickly, she ran down the stairs to open the doors.

At the door stood a beggar woman, her blood red curls ratted and matted with leaves and twigs, her skin ashen and thin. In her hand she held a flower with a single black pearl embraced lovingly by the blood red petals. Wordlessly, she held it out to the younger sister, gesturing for her to take it. At first the younger woman seemed hesitant, then, with eyes full of greed, the younger sister took the flower. The beggar woman smiled, then began to sing,

"This day am I, ribbons I leave, the trail to find. My sister is beautiful, though in her soul is intent to kill. Her deepest wish that I shouldst die. Weep for me, soft nightingale."

The younger sister stood still a moment, her memory flooded with her sister's dying image. She flushed and looked at the woman before her, stamped her foot and angrily asked,

"How come you by that song beggar woman?"

"This way and that way, beautiful child. I learned it upon my harp." Then out from under her cloak, the beggar woman pulled a beautiful and fragile harp, one that looked as though it was made from the finest bone in all the world. The strings of this harp were long strands of gold, set in the frame with blood red pearls, the beggar woman smiled then, her toothless mouth gleaming in the lights from the hall. Tenderly, she touched a string, the soft tone of it almost sounded like weeping.

"You are a witch." cried the younger sister, covering her ears with her hands. She dropped the flower to the floor and as it fell it transformed into her sister, dressed in her white dress with a black cloak wrapped about her.

"No, sister," said the older. "I am the witch. When you left me to die in the forests alone, a wizard happened upon me. He healed my wounds and taught me magic. He then transformed me into the flower you so coveted, and brought me here for my revenge." With that, the beggar woman transformed into a tall man with long ivory hair and ebony skin. In his left hand was a white staff and in the other was the enchanted harp.

Taking the harp in hand, the witch strummed lightly, the strings pulling the younger sister closer.

"Come sister, don't you want to dance?" laughed the witch, playing a jaunty tune upon the harp.

The younger could not help but move, her hips swaying to the music, her feet merrily following in time. The witch played faster so that the younger sister's feet moved more swiftly, their own power dragging the girl across the crystal floors of her Crystal Castle. She covered her ears, screaming at the top of her voice, so that she might drown out the horrible sounds of the harp. For, because of her guilt, the music was instead the voice of Death singing of her dying moments.

The witch laughed and played ever faster, her wizard joining in on a silver violin. The two played as the younger twirled about so fast that she could not breathe. No longer able to with stand the enchantment, the sister threw herself out of one of the windows, flinging herself to the jagged rocks below. Her body was then eaten by the wolves of that country, leaving nothing behind but the jasper pendant.

Gently, the witch slowed her song to a mournful tune, her wizard slowing to match her. When the song finally ended, the harp disappeared along with the violin to some place that is not known to man. The wizard moved toward the witch, his hand sliding under her cloak so that it was pushed aside. And there, where her ribs should have been was nothing but emptiness. He grazed her face with one of his hands, as gently and tenderly as any lover, and watched as her soul passed from her decaying body and into the sky.