Work Text:
Once upon a time, there was a little princess who lived in a grand mansion in the forest. The little princess had decided to become a witch, and was training under her master, Virgilia. She and her close friend Gaap, a young demon that still had a century or two on the princess, would often run about and play. The little princess had a kind heart, but she was also mischievous, and could be pettily cruel if she felt wronged. The little princess had never thought that anything was lacking in her life; it was a contented way to live. There were many struggles, but she was a happy child.
However, one day, the little princess met a prince. A young boy who had wandered into the forest, who glimpsed the princess as flashes of gold lit up by the dapples of light filtered through the thick, twisted branches of the trees. He was the grandchild of the errant dark sorcerer whom Beatrice served, the master of the mansion the princess lived in and even of the island itself. The little princess, who had become Beatrice’s apprentice, was perhaps at the same level as a mere grandchild would be. After all, wasn’t Beatrice a powerful and wonderful witch on whom that sorcerer deeply relied upon?
The princess did not need to call out to the boy; having merely seen her, he easily called out to her. His voice was brash and bold, unsuitable for the calm of the woods, and it startled the small woodland creatures that he had not even noticed.
“Hey, what’re you doing here?” The boy cocked his head. “No one but my family is supposed to be here, right?”
The princess scowled. “Well, I’m here.” She crossed her arms. “What about you? You’re not supposed to be in the forest, are you?”
The boy’s face paled. “Er, I mean…” He scratched the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. “Maybe not… What about you, then?”
She brought a finger to her lips. She really wasn’t supposed to be out of the mansion; she had told her master that she would be diligently studying, and Beatrice was too busy with other matters to check on her. Even Gaap hadn’t been roped into this adventure. But fate had brought her here, to him.
“Ah, I see.” His face brightened. “I won’t tell, ihihi.” He had likely conjured up some explanation for her presence, without her even needing to make an excuse for him. “I’m Battler!” He stuck out his hand. “What about you?”
The little girl reached out and took his hand. Ever since she had decided to become a witch… she hadn’t been able to easily shake hands with people like this. “My name is…” She told him it easily; she was not a witch in full, and thus did not realize how a witch’s human name could serve to harm them.
He smiled. “That’s a cute name.”
The girl glanced away. Her hand was still in his, fingers awkwardly tangled together. “Yours is Battler, hm? Are you like a knight, then?” Her grasp of English was still clumsy; ‘Battler’ and ‘fighter’ and ‘protector’ and ‘knight’ jumbled together. They were all similar enough.
“Maybe.” He puffed out his chest. “Then, are you a princess?” He teasingly brought her hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles. His face was red, but the little princess couldn’t notice it, given that she was looking anywhere but his face, her own cheeks stained the color of the rose petals in her afternoon tea.
She almost nodded, but then shook her head. She had been a princess, once, but in truth she was something in-between, having declared that she would become a witch. She was neither a witch nor a princess, a being between states. A chick within an egg, unhatched, who had not yet become anything at all. She was different from the boy before her, human blood coursing through his veins. For all that he was also a child, he was more ‘real’ than she, more physically present in the world. A hatched phoenix who would live on, and on, and on, unable to be slain by weak foes.
“Are there really witches and stuff in the forest?” Battler asked. There was a trace of fear in his eyes, but more than that, there was the brash, bold bravery of a young boy who didn’t wish to come off as a frightened child.
The girl shook her head again, not wishing to betray her master’s secret domain. “Nothing like that.” She paused, hesitating, and then quietly added, “Do you want to play?”
“Huh?” Battler was surprised, but he quickly recovered. “Mhm! Yeah, let’s play?” He grinned, wide and open. Somehow his smile reminded the little princess of the sun: she smiled back.
She had never before played with someone her age, let alone someone who was human and not a witch or demon. Gaap was much too old to be a peer, for all that she would play with the little girl all day long, and Beatrice was countless years older than her. Battler was willing to run around playing tag, or hide and seek, and entirely happy to make a mess with her of their nice, fancy clothes on the beach. The saltwater might ruin his shiny shoes and her pretty dress, but what did two young children care? They had been dressed in the same manner as dolls, not accounting for the fact that they had the agency to run about without a care for their clothes, having little attachment to them beyond knowing that their guardians would make a fuss about how fine or how dirty they appeared.
When the two grew tired, they sat down beneath a tree together, sand in their socks and dirt streaking their clothes. They talked quietly about the things they liked, the books they read, their troubles with their teachers. They got into a loud debate about a mystery book, and broke into laughter at the end, having learned to respect each other.
“...Will you come back?” the little girl asked anxiously. She was lonely, for all that she had her teacher and Gaap.
“I will!” Battler promised.
And so, when they had both caught their breaths, they parted ways. The little girl knew that his family only gathered together once a year; it was not as though Battler could simply stay.
The next year, Battler came back, and the next, and the next., and the next Each year, they both grew older, but the little girl barely seemed to change at all. She still held a human name, not yet having become a true witch. She still had many years to go before that would happen. She hadn’t yet lost anything. However, every year, her heart would ache when Battler left. It was an emotion the little girl, raised amongst witches and demons, did not easily understand. It was too human an emotion for a little witch to have.
“...I wish time could stop,” the little girl said, the night before Battler once more had to leave. He had turned twelve, this year; it was an auspicious number. “I wish we could stay together forever.” Training to become a witch was difficult, and the master of the island could be cruel indeed.
Battler looked at her - the girl he had known for several years, from his childhood to adolescence to the cusp of teenagehood - and smiled. “Then, you should come with me.”
However, the girl shook her head. “I can’t.” She had to become a witch; and, regardless of whether she became a witch or a princess, she would always be bound to this place. She could never escape.
And yet, that boy, foolishly - “Think about it, though. I’ll come for you on a white horse and take you away next year!”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Really…?” Then, he would really… be her prince.
A foolish promise, a foolish girl who believed it, a foolish boy who didn’t realize the depth to which his words had already sunk into her heart. His grin, wide and naive, seemed to invite the girl to sinfully dream.
“Really.” He sealed both their fates with such childish impunity, as though he would never face consequences for airy, ‘innocent’ words.
The girl’s smile was soft; she was innocent in her own way, despite the trials she had faced as a young witch. She was still unknowing of the true ignorance and cruelty of humans, who so easily broke promises. Witches did not break promises; it was only such beings of flesh that dared to break their word and shatter hearts in their uncaring wake.
“I’ll wait for you.” Her promise was always kept.
“Ihihi, okay!” His promise was broken for many years.
The little girl grew to become the witch, Beatrice: the specter that haunted the island, waiting for the return of her wayward prince. She grew to become the villain of the story, where Battler grew to become the hero. And the little girl, the heroine of the tale, was long, long forgotten.