Larisa and the Enchantments

The morning sun had yet to crest the horizon, but it was dawn nonetheless. The small town that I lived in was quiet and still as my bare feet tromped along the packed dirt road. The weather hadn't been great for weeks, so there wasn't anything new to be said about it. The dry summer heat had left most of the crops brown and withered. A few farmers managed to grow some vegetables, but they too would soon rot out in the fields.

I had already been awake for hours and I knew that my mother would be up by now. She would have already taken the lit candle from its nook in the wall and lit our stove. As a result, she would be sitting there waiting patiently, her skirts sticking to her sweat covered legs as she stared into the darkness.

As I approached our house, I heard footsteps behind me. My heart raced as I wondered if one of the wolves had finally decided to make a meal of me. But no wolf or any other animal made those footsteps. These were soft footsteps, almost like a rabbit hopping across the ground, but there was a certain level of gracefulness that couldn't be denied by an animal.

A faint light came into view as I turned to look past my shoulder at whoever was following me home. It was then that I saw her: a young woman about my age with long black hair tied back in a bun with two large hairpins holding it together. Her face was flawless with golden brown eyes that seemed to glow even in the dim light provided by the moon.

She smiled at me when our eyes met, but she didn't say anything. This wasn't uncommon though; she never spoke when we went on our walks through town together in the early morning hours before everyone else woke up and started their days. She enjoyed observing me as I went about my daily business, always keeping her distance so that anyone could mistake her for a figment of my imagination if they happened to glance in my direction while she watched me from afar.

When I finally reached my house, the girl followed me inside without hesitation or pause, despite not having ever been invited inside before today. We both stood at the entrance to observe each other's disheveled appearance after having slept on opposite ends of the house all night long. Although we might have looked like we had spent all night rolling around in mud and grass stains, we both knew that it wasn't true; we just weren't used to being around other people very often since we only ever interacted with one another during our morning wanderings through town before anyone else got up and started their day.

My mother finally spoke up after an awkward moment passed between us three women in silence: "Who is your friend?" She asked with a note of suspicion in her voice as she stood behind her stove stirring something within a pot on top of it with a long wooden spoon made from a branch that had fallen from one of our fruit trees several years ago.

"Her name is Lucille." I replied flatly with no hint of emotion showing through my tone despite how excited I truly felt inside about having finally told someone who she was for once instead of letting them figure it out for themselves like most people did every morning when they saw us together without speaking to each other during their walks before sunrise down our tiny road which sat nestled amid rolling hills and lush green forests surrounding us on all sides except where civilization began at one end of town where people could make their way down into the valley below if they dared make their way past the forest full of bandits known as "White River" where those who dared make their way into those woods either never returned or came back different than when they left which was why nobody went down there anymore unless they needed to go hunting or pick berries or mushrooms if they were brave enough to do so after dark when most people are smart enough not to travel through those woods alone at night because although White River is a haven for bandits today who prey on unsuspecting travelers trying to make their way down into our valley below where civilization begins, tomorrow it will be home to something far worse than you or I can imagine dear reader because those bandits are nothing compared to what's coming tomorrow which is why you should stop reading this story right now before it's too late because none of us can escape from what's coming tomorrow nor can any amount of preparation possibly help us prepare for what's approaching...but wait! Do you hear that? Yes! That's right! Someone is knocking on your door! Oh dear reader! You really should answer your door before something bad happens...