Painted LoveI had never gone to the Wishing Well before. It's not that I didn't want to go there; it's just that I had never had the incentive to go, being occupied with my studies, both academic and magical. The latter was a secret though, known only to Mr. Gold, aka Rumpelstiltskin, my elder witch, and myself. It had taken a recommendation from him to finally get me curious about the old well. "A good place to commune with your element," he had said. "Or at least to just sit and think."
And as Saturday was my regular day to drop all my work and have fun, run errands, and/or explore, I had decided to go to the Wishing Well. It was quiet, misty, and slightly chilly as I walked down the main thoroughfare. I knew nothing would open until 9 at least, but it still felt a little strange, walking down the, normally busy, street by myself; it was a good kind of strange though, almost magical.
As I walked past Granny's Diner, the
The Secretive KnightThe stocky, greasy bald man opened the oblong wooden box with great haste. Rummaging through the stuffing of red cloth that appears to protect its true contents, he pulled a long smile, revealing the holes in his set of teeth.
Letting out a raspy laugh, he gently closes the wooden box. "Now this is what I call quality service!" he said, looking across the table at the other person seated with him.
He turned behind him and yelled to a waitress, "Fetch me your best concoction, lass! 'Tis a night to celebrate!" Turning back to his companion, he added, "On me, of course!"
The other person said not a word. With arms crossed and seated straight up, the person was fully clothed in dark overalls. A wide plumed atop the head, it did well to hide the eyes. The rest of the face was covered with a scarf. Hands in gloves and feet in leather boots, there was not an inch of skin exposed to sight. With the scarce lighting that the tavern could afford to give in the time of the dark night, it was nearl