The Three Trials​

-As told by the Tales of Beedle the Bard

Before the time of the Peverells, there lived many small families in the dense woods somewhere in Scotland, filled with trees thick and old. One lonely boy, almost a man, and his aged parents led simple lives, gathering berries sweet and sour, plants raw yet filling, hunting small game by the shrouded daylight, and camping with mere wood keeping them from the unnamed constellations in the cold night. They dared not venture out of the forests for it was the forest where the writ of the Maginul King could not touch them. Several others of their kind lived alongside them, yet not at any small distance; they were all cast out for their impossible tricks, now bound together, however lightly, by them.

One moonlit night saw them gathered in a fire-lit clearing amidst the sounds of howling, baying and tearing around them. The wizards knew not what was to be done, until a crone, respected amongst them, twirled her trusty wand, conjuring a rough wooden Goblet. Parchment was sought, divided, marked with names and cast into the Goblet and, lo and behold, a single parchment spat out! The innocent boy, for it was he who was chosen to plead the Not-Witch of the Rock for help, walked into the crisp air of the creepy woods, brandishing his wand confidently. He was but a little way into the woods before being ambushed by a large wolf. The boy swished and flicked, and rolled out of harm’s way. The blood-soaked wolf’s eyes were dilated and full of an unnatural frenzy as it snarled and snapped, floating in the air. He shuddered and dropped the wolf, commanding the fallen detritus and earth into a cage as the wolf hurried at him. Its jaws closed around his free hand, narrow snout sticking out of the still assembling earth. He roared as he freed his hand, smiting the surprised wolf upon its head.

The hastily metamorphosed cage quaked and began crumbling from the wolf’s attempts to free itself as the boy sped away to the sound of approaching growls. Eager howls chased the boy as he came upon a brisk stream, lined with date palms . He looked back and sighted three wolves in the distance, teeth gnashing and mouth slavering as they sprinted, and hesitated a moment at the sight of the distinct aloof trees. He quickly closed the wound upon his hand and began wading across the biting spring. Half way across, he glanced back and saw the wolves arrive at the bank. One began to lap at the pool of blood he had inadvertently made, while the other two, to his burgeoning horror, threw themselves into the frosty gleaming water with chilling howls. He turned back and made scarce further progress before a shadow fell across his head. He ducked into the clear water in spite of the numbness spreading across his body. Whilst the boy remained crouched, the trees on the far side of the stream came alive, grabbed the wolf that had just leapt and hauled it away into the gloom. Seeing this, the other wolf yelped and retraced its path. Another leaf came swinging at the boy and knocked him further as he rose unaware in happy disbelief.

The boy groaned and rose with a smile on his face even though his head sported an enormous bruise. He had travelled this route before and though it left him feeling embarrassed and possibly put him in mortal peril, broke out into a quick little jig and an accompanying tune, waving his wand in harmless harmony as he exited the stream. The Dancing Dates began gyrating their leaves with each other in response. As he approached the line of trees, they reached out with their leaves and absorbed him into their routine. He inched deeper into the woods and away from the line of trees but was gently nudged back by a frond into dancing in co-ordination with the trees. The wolf which had been retreating sullenly out of reach of the trees promptly turned and leapt at him. It was suddenly scraped by fronds, grabbed hold of and torn apart as the trees continued whirling their leaves and moving their fronds in an undulating, oddly captivating motion in tune to his beat. The macabre dance continued with various torn apart slices of wolves decorating the fronds eerily resembling meat on a pike.

Unbeknownst to the boy, the fair daughter of the King, a young girl in the middle of her teens, sporting hair that dazzled like the stars, mesmerizing blue eyes and clad in a pure white dress, sullied only by the tears she had shed as she had been kidnapped by a wand-wielder for ransom, was trapped in the circle of date trees. She now stood staring with disbelief at the elder boy as he . After a few minutes of watching, she joined in the dance, surprising the heavily perspiring and nervous boy into stopping for a second. Moonlight gleamed off the leaves as they suddenly changed tracks and hurtled at the couple. The boy immediately clasped her hand and slid into dance. The shocked princess unwittingly mirrored his movements. She glared at him and attempted to free herself once she caught sight of the wand clasped in his hand. The leaves responded with remarkable speed, moving to eviscerate them. The princess shrieked in shock as the boy clutched her and begged her to dance along. They picked up the steps, just as a frond grazed the boy on his arm, splattering them in a surprising amount of his blood. They danced nevertheless and were finally permitted to pass unimpeded by the trees.

The lass kicked out at the boy and plucked his wand on reaching a safe distance from the grove. The boy, too slow to respond, saw as she broke his spirit and fell into a stupor. Her security thus bought; the princess disappeared into the trees with nary a look behind. The young man shook himself, reminding himself of the plight of his people and wrapped the pieces of his wand in his robes.

He walked a short distance along a crude trail made by what looked to be wild animals before barging into a clearing. The Not-Witch of the Rock, Mistress of the Grove, Kidnapper of the Princess, Artemis in disguise, Goddess of the Moon, the Hunt and the Wild, regarded him but a moment before her eyes flashed in fury.

The old Wizard King-in-exile, his wife and his loyal entourage were found brutally savaged, their wounds human and animal at once, in a clearing. Their son’s corpse was missing. The Maginul King’s daughter was found safe, her unlikely story puzzling to some, a lie to the rest, and the bloodstain on her pristine dress taken note of. The Forests were Forbidden to all men. A new wolf roamed each bright night, its glistening white coat and lupine yet human eyes striking terror, its bite spreading an indomitable curse and its howl rapturing all. Maginuls and Magi tore each other apart as the gods laughed gleefully.

 

1194 words - a neat fairy tale idea! I like using the idea of an 'origin story' for this prompt, though this one could use some cleaning up to shine.

Spoiler

The first thing I notice here is how generic some of the phrasing and word choices are. They are living “somewhere in Scotland” with “trees.” Just a simple change from these terms to “not far from Pittenweem on the eastern coast of Scotland” and “thick with silver birch” would help the setting, imo. A quick google search told me which trees were most common in Scotland, and this link gave me descriptions of them.
https://forestryandland.gov.scot/learn/trees

The same suggestions on description apply to the rest of the paragraph about berries, plants, game, etc.

Maginul King, eh? Something about the word flows off the tongue and reminds me of something RL, but I can’t place it… oh, Maginot Line. That’s what I’m ‘hearing’ when I saw it mentally. I assume not related, but I feel better having identified this.

I think you have a solid idea for a story here, but it’s stifled somewhat by not using names. It’s true that this happens sometimes (the boy who cried wolf, for example, doesn’t name anyone that I can recall) but in general I think either giving the boy a name (like Wulfric) or a description (analogous to “Little Red Cap”) would work better.

I did laugh at the gyrating, dancing dates though. Well done there, I think. Hair dazzling like the stars though makes me think it’s black with glitter in it, which is more mesmerizing than I would have expected.

The paragraph starting with ‘unbeknownst to the boy…’ reads awkwardly. He stumbles onto this chick who had been kidnapped and they dance? I understand that it’s meant be surreal, but it still didn’t quite click for me in terms of what I was meant to get out of it.

Hmmm, so, this is the start (more or less?) of the wizards vs the muggles? With Maginul being muggles and Magi being wizards?

I do quite like the idea of having an ‘origin story’ for that conflict. But a solid beta-read for this would help it be a bit more clear.