The Play Rite. Chapter six

Josefine’s head was full of questions, but she had no answers. She had to except that; she wasn’t getting any answers from Viviane

What was that? As it neared, she thought it to be a young boy, but as he came closer still, she could tell that he was older than she had originally thought. He looked just shy of twenty and wore his curly, black hair pulled back sloppily in a ponytail. Once he reached her, Josefine was wowed by the beauty of his gray eyes. His clothes signified that he was not from a wealthy family nor, since he wore no hat, were they officials.  He was carrying something.

In his hand, he held an envelope. The wax seal on it had no initials, but a face. It was a frightening thing, with razor sharp teeth for eyes and no nose. It gave her a bad feeling in her gut.

‘Josefine?’ his voice was deep and strong. It made him sound brave, even if he wasn’t; she decided that he was, ‘Yes?’ ‘Good. I finally found you. I’ve been searching for you all day. You have a letter from a man who arrived in the village today; he described your face… and … body in a way that no one I’ve ever met could. He must be very familiar with you. How, may I ask, do you know him?’ ‘I don’t believe I do.’ ‘Oh? The way he spoke of you, I’d think you were engaged or married, even.’ He handed her the envelope, ‘I assure you I’m not engaged or married. To anyone.’ The boy’s face seemed to light up with that, ‘Well I’m glad. Here I was, thinking you were the most beautiful thing that I’d ever seen and that I’d never even have a chance because an older man got to you before I did.’ He gave her a big smile and she looked at him; skeptical. ‘Unless, I’ve already ruined my chance.’ He was still smiling, but all of the light had gone out. Was he actually hoping to marry her or was he just pretending? He looked genuinely down,’ Don’t worry, I’ll give you a chance to prove yourself.’ She thought for a second,’ But. You have to tell me what this man was like.’ She gave him a smile and his face lit up again; he would not spare a detail.

It took about an hour for him to give her a detailed story and another hour to recap and answer questions. She gathered from this conversation that the man was around thirty years of age and wore his sandy blonde hair a little past his jawline. His eyes were a dark color that the boy had described as the darkest purple he’d ever seen; purple eyes. How interesting. When she imagined this man, she imagined him quite handsome with his mysterious purple eyes and black cape, but then she would remember how he described her, in a way that she could not decide if it were flattering or frightening. He seemed to know her, but she did not know him.

After she had spoken with the boy for a few hours, his name was James, she went to her favorite place in the world. It was a small hut in the middle of the forest and it had once been home to the village wise men and women. The wise women had all been killed in the war. This place was no longer used for anything. The hut was a place of feeling, a place of sadness, and, some believed (those who still remembered that it was here), a place of great magic. There was a reason no one came here anymore, but she didn’t know why that was.