The exquisite spring breeze brushed Daphne’s shoulders, flowers dancing along with the lush trees. The slope ended on a fierce river, flowing with such excitement that it could snatch one away in a second. She sat down and fixed her skirt, watching a bee taking last sips of nectar from a citrus tree. The flowers waved, inviting courageous bees to their nectars. She turned her gaze from the buzzing bees and curled the green olives in her hand.

  “Throw these olives to the river, and the witch will show herself,” the book said. “You shan’t repeat her name, nor look at her eyes,” the book begged. “... or she will make you hers,” the book wailed. Daphne didn’t care; she never planned on going back to that wretched village. Fiddling with her black hair, she took a step to the river.

  Roaring with all its might, it dared her to take another step. Tears welled in Daphne’s eyes as memories of the village returned; bodies in the streets, madmen fleeing to the forest. The home she lived in for years became a pile of ash, incinerating everything she adored in her life. The respite in her life long gone, she took another step.

  The river relented, and allowed her to come closer. Daphne thanked the merciful river, and threw the olives as an offering to it. She uttered the words one to one from the book.

  “O the beautiful maiden, show thee to this sullen soul. Accept these offerings to thy heart.”

  The wind picked up, throwing Daphne to the ground. She bolted up, but had to cover her face from the ferocious wind. Her skirt flew like a flag and the rose in her hand flew away. Now she couldn’t complete the ritual, terrified of invoking the wrath of the river witch. Before she could panic, the storm died down, and two hands emerged from the river.

  Daphne forgot the look away, staring deep into the brown eyes of the witch. Embroidered in white clothes, her ginger hair calm against the breeze. Daphne trembled, only stopping when she looked away. However, it was too late.

  “No rose? Where are your manners?”

  Daphne’s breath cut through her nostrils, failing to compose herself in front of the woman she desired. If she didn’t spit the truth then and there, a harrowing fate awaited her.

  “It flew away, I couldn’t hold it.”

  She wrapped her arms around Daphne, their lips brushing each other. Daphne expected anything, but this felt too much, even for her. A shiver went through her spine, a drop of sweat rolling down her forehead.

  “Then I have no reason to be gentle with you.”

  Daphne couldn’t even speak; her mind allured by the witch’s charm, her tongue frozen from the shock. In the end, she did the only thing she had always done, her hazel eyes glistening under the peeking moon.

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  “Please don’t hurt me. I don’t have anyone else.”

  The witch’s embrace loosened, her fiery mood dampened from Daphne’s shifting mood. She expected obedience and submission, not this. Wiping her tears away, the witch whispered.

  “What happened to them? Did they pass away?”

  She nodded, closing her eyes to flush the tears away.

  “Bandits attacked our village. Everyone died but me.”

  The witch pressed her lips to Daphne’s cheek, dragging it to her neck. Her breath smelled of flowers and fire.

  “You could've run away, but you came here. If you sought your relatives, you’re mistaken. I can’t bring back the dead.”

  Daphne pressed her face against her shoulder, angst building up on her face. If she had any intentions of playing by the book before, all of it disappeared.

  “I didn’t come here for anyone, my lady. I came for you. I long dreamt of this day, and I have no reason to go back.”

  Taken aback, the witch stood still. Not a word was spoken, water coming to their knees. Both of them stood back for a second, their eyes filled with a longing neither of them could fulfill. Yet, that didn’t stop them.

  “Never in my life have I ever heard of this. Still, if you insist… I wouldn’t mind it. Step into the water with me, and you’ll be mine forever.”

  They stepped into the water, Daphne noticing the shift in water. It’s almost as if they stepped into a different world from theirs. She saw a realm she couldn’t explain, colors binding in ways she couldn’t describe, her foot tapping to a glass-like dome. Worry reared its ugly head, but she didn’t know how to process it. If this is what she wanted all along, why did Daphne’s heart itch in pain? The other noticed this too, stopping both of them.

  “Tell me, young lady. What do you seek from life? I won’t push you into an eternity you will come to loathe.”

  “I’m so sorry, I just don’t know. I just wanted some peace in my life, that it will be okay.”

  The witch frowned, her frustration mixed with melancholy. A daunting thought clouded her mind; what if she was neither the first nor would be the last one? Did others also come to the witch, but gave up at the last minute? However, she didn’t have the courage to ask such an intimate question.

  “It’s lonely here, many come with an infatuation. Some see me as an ugly hag, some say I shine like the North Star. I take the shape of your imagination, your wishes.”

  “Did any of them take the offer?”

  “No, but I don’t mind. That someone will come, even if it’ll take an eternity.”

  Daphne lowered her eyes, holding the witch close. She wanted to give this poor woman happiness she lacked, but it would be at the cost of her own freedom. Even if everyone she knew passed away, she was free. Nobody could take that away but Daphne.

  “The moment your rose flew away, I knew it. Nobody can hold onto it, not yet.”

  The witch went for a passionate kiss, Daphne having a taste of the intoxicating divine. The kiss didn’t stop until Daphne pushed herself away, terrified of losing herself to the river witch. The other giggled, unbothered by Daphne’s sudden panic. She stepped back into the water, half of her body submerged.

  “I’ll take my leave then. Just to warn you, you lost your chance. If you’ll try the ritual again, it won’t work.”

  Her smile curled, repressing something that had been held there for too long. She teared up, and disappeared without a goodbye. The wind picked up, cold air whipping the denizens of the earth, the river roaring once again. The world went on, but Daphne stood still, her eyes teary. Yet, she didn’t cry. She didn’t ask for the witch to come back, either. She went under a tree and closed her eyes, clutching the rose that slipped from her hands just a while ago.

  “Good night to you too, my lady.”