Guys guys, guess what's gonna happen SUNDAY 27th? :D FAIRY TALE TAXON
It is said that the Ramblewood is home to a pixie sorcerer with the power to grant any wish. He appears to those in only the most desperate of need and offers to bestow a boon upon them. This generosity comes with a terrible price, as the sorcerer is a greedy creature who hungers not for riches, but for souls. All he aides must give up a part of themselves, either in the form of a treasured possession or an intangible aspect of their being.
There is only one way to break a deal with him. After granting each wish the sorcerer gives three days for the recipient to come to him with his name. If they are able to do so, they will be able to keep their soul and the gift from the sorcerer. None have been able to break the contract - few have tried, too grateful for his help to chance his anger - and even if they did it is believed that the sorcerer has hidden his name so well that him himself doesn't remember it.
And so it was, that a long, long time ago, a man lost his family. He wasn't the smartest one, but he was bright, and he had more heart than any other in all the land. So much heart had he, that losing his family caused his heart to burst. The pain was more than he could bear, and for a long time, the man was but a shadow of his former self.
One day, he could take it no more, and went in search of the pixie sorcerer known only as Glitch. "Pixie," said the woodsman. "I have lost myself in grief. I want it gone. I want to find myself again. Name your price and you shall have it."
The sorcerer, alighted upon a large stone in the middle of a stream, cocked his wild-haired head at the man and laughed.
"Oh, what a rare creature you are!" he crowed. "Many have sought me out to turn the hearts of others, only a very few have wished to turn their own. What has befallen you to make you so lost and grief-stricken that you seek solace from witchcraft?"
"I have lost everything dear to me," said the woodsman to the sorcerer, and the pain was clear to see in the tired lines of his face. "My wife, dead and buried, my son lost to me forever; I am a stranger in my own home. Turn me heartless or mend me, but I beg of you, do it now!"
And for the second time, he asked the pixie, "Name your price."
"So demanding!" The sorcerer tsked, then sprang from his perch to skip lightly across the shallow stream. Once on the shore he barreled into the woodsman and placed his hand at the center of his chest. He flexed his fingers so they dug into the woodman's flesh. "You wish to be heartless? That can be arranged."
Bright dark eyes searched pale blue ones for a moment, and the pixie's mad smile flashed again. "But I'd rather see you mended, and for that--" The sorcerer swept the man's hat from his head. "I will take this. Do you agree to the terms?"
The woodsman fell to his knees under the weight, staring up at the pixie with fear. Then the rush of air, and then... Nothing. Just words ringing in his ears as he looked up.
"My hat?" Asked the woodsman. It seemed like so small a price to pay; there had to be something else.
"Surely you can think of something better? I said any price, and I mean it."
The sorcerer set the hat upon his own head and patted the woodsman's cheek.
"You question my choice? Would you rather I take your sight? Or the taste of sweet berries?" He laughed and shook his head. "No, I wish for naught more than your crown, as it is valuable to me. Do we have an accord?"
The woodsman, who once held such trust in the workings of the world now questioned everything. But before he had so much as spared one more thought, the only word that mattered spilled from his lips.
"Yes."
The pixie nodded once, firmly, and his grip on the woodsman's chest gentled. "So be it, I shall remove your pain at once."
He brushed the fingertips of his free hand across the woodman's brow, muttering an incantation in the language of the fair folk. Finally he drew away and rose to his full height, heels clicking together smartly.
"It is done. Are you satisfied that the hurt has been lifted?"
The woodsman's bright blue eyes closed from the touch, and when he opened them again, he found the strangest thing had happened. He could breathe again.
He couldn't feel a thing.
"Yes," he said, awestruck. "It's gone."
"Hurrah!" the pixie crowed, clapping his hands and dancing in place. "All mended, never to break again, and now I've a fine hat to spare me the sun's brightness. This is indeed a fine day!"
He twirled with great merriment, then sobered to address the woodsman once more. "Now, do you know of my ways? Do you know that you've three days to reverse our bargain?"
"I've heard it said, yes," he replied, wondering still that all the pain was gone.
"But I can't see why I would want to. Thank you." He pushed off the ground, brushing his knees free of the dusty earth. "'Tis a fine hat. I should hope you'll cherish it as I have."
"I am certain I shall," the sorcerer said and doffed the hat to the woodsman, a twinkle in his eyes. So few wished to take him up on his offer, so many went on to regret it.
He wondered if the woodsman would, then decided that as long as he kept his treasure he cared not.
"And now that you are unburdened, you may go and reclaim your life. Gather many riches, so if we ever need to bargain again you'll have something you feel is worthy to exchange."
In response, the woodsman gave the sorcerer his first smile in what felt like an age. It was a genuine smile, boosted by the startling lack of grief.
"Until we meet again." And rather than tip his hat, the woodsman gave a bow, and soon went on his way.