text: (~1600 words) It was a spell she cast; a beautiful enchantment that slithered towards you from the cracks on the trunks of the ancient oaks, and from the petals of the innocent chamomiles rooting into the rich earth. It fell from the fluffy clouds above like the finest of rains, gently, as if through a sieve which stretched above the blue sky. It came from the sun too, travelling along the beams of light, hot and bright and intense, but it was the strongest around her, radiating off of her form that was even more mightier than the sun itself. She was a new celestial body, proudly challenging the sun, the mother pf gods and men, and all the many-storied stars with her divine halo of golden locks. She stood there, gently swaying like a strand of reed in the warm breeze of the glade, as if her legs were ready to be swept into a carefree dance any moment. She stood there, soft silks of her dress hugging her thin figure, sunlight reflected and broken by fine jewellery on her long fingers. She stood there, looking at you, her black pupils focused on nothing else but yours, and not even the peculiarly colourful flowers yearning to be picked up by her soft hands or the melody of birdsong could snatch her attention away from you. The spell and all its thin threads found their way to you. Their scent was heavy with spices and herbs, but they weighed comforting on your shoulders like a thick blanket. The spell touched your skin, so feather-light at first you believed it to be the wind, but the touch was there, soft and cool in the burning sun. A true blessing. The spell wiped the beads of sweat from your forehead and tucked back a stray strand of hair. It was calm and relaxing, a touch of innocent love you’ve experienced way too long ago. The thought of closing your eyes and leaning into the touch was tempting, but her gaze held you tight, leaving no other option than to gaze back at her. An air of something ethereal lingered and stirred around her, something your mind failed to get a firm grasp on, and so she cruelly left you abandoned in the labyrinth of instinctive guesses. Her fine nose was one of a Greek goddess’ sculpted by masterful hands with generations worth of knowledge combined in the hand which held the chisel and hammer. As she swayed her muscles tensed, strong and lean like an African huntress. Her nude lips, on them the remnants of lipstick long faded, were small but full, and a mischievous smile tugged at its corners, but she had the grace to refrain herself from a childish giggle escaping her mouth. The idea to pick some flowers and weave them into a wreath to adore her beautiful face came with a sudden gust of wind, but her muscles tensed again and you did not dare to move. And besides, for a moment it seemed like a grandiose crown of flowers already rested atop her head. Tiny freckles were speckled across her nose and cheeks, as if the creator had accidentally tipped some paint over while creating this masterpiece. And still, her spell persisted, getting firmer around you by the moment. It was a faint mist hiding the glade with all its nature away from you, leaving only her to be seen and observed. It was like honey surrounding you, every move slow and a great effort to execute. A faint whisper travelled through the ether of the spell and you could only guess if it was her, the wind, or your mind playing a cruel trick on you. The whisper sheepishly asked you to stay and lured you in with promises of eternal love and peace, and so you stayed, feet slowly starting to root into the ground. The gluttony for something unconditional was greater than any sense or logic, and she was the kindred spirit who could deliver that. She was still watching you, eyes round and curious and so filled to the brim with fondness you were afraid it would overflow and stream down her rosy cheeks and into shimmering puddles which you wished to drown in. But she held herself with such poise, such an awareness that your eyes were on her. Her gaze mirrored a look of unshakeable duty and feel of purpose that you only could get a taste of in your dreams. The thread of her spell thickened, soft ropes sliding over your legs and arms, and you wished for that soft peace never to cease. And she obliged your wish, gaze following as you got drunken on her affection, her body still, but eyes very much alive, unwilling to break the stare with as much as a blink. It was a spell she cast, one which creeped up your arms and chest and started to seep through your skin, wishing to gift her inner warmth to you and to see inside your very being, to truly fall in love with the person found in the woods. And you welcomed the warmth, let it to widen your pupils, make your skin prickle, and to sharpen your senses. She stood there, in the inky sweetness, the flowers and the trees long gone, only the sun shining weakly through the spell which placed everything out of focus except her elegant figure. At last, she sent you a faint smile which passed as quick as it came and you doubted whether it really was a smile or just an illusion. She was a mirage, and you none else than a weary traveller. She held her chin high, and you could see a majestic golden crown glinting sharp against the haze of the spell. It was a spell she cast, a spell whose claws dragged across your skin, whose ropes bound you in love and weighed you down. For a fleeting moment her light dress morphed into an armour, her hands steadily wielding a sword, but you blinked, and once again it was just her, loving you, adoring you. Her head tilted, eyes glittering with the curiosity of a young scholar in ancient Alexandria, wishing to discover and understand the human psyche. The dizzying scent of her spell travelled down your nostrils and filled your lungs, and you didn’t want to exhale in fear of losing that feeling of pure bliss within. A cloud passed overhead and in the momentary dimness you spotted a rare and courageous fire burning behind her iris, one which belonged to a Valkyrie. It was a spell she cast, one which held you motionless, one which was keen on exploring your body and mind, and one which you happily let to. Acceptance, at last. She smiled once again, this time longer, and her perfect innocence assured you that all will be right. You exhaled, letting out the air of herbs and spices and the next breath you took was also hers. The air was filled with an ever faint hum of love, of pulsing blood of the heart and of what reminded you of the womb. And you still held the eyes which belonged to a sorceress. She thanked your unconditional trust with a flash of wisdom, and now she was a druidess from the misty woods of the Irish highlands. And you let her wisdom to do as she wished. The ropes of the spell dug into your skin, tightening. It was a spell she cast, one which grew hot and heavy, and you felt it crawl under your nails, filling your nostrils and flowing into your ear, burning the promise of peace into it like molten lead. You felt as it crept further under your skin, slowly, and you were unable to tear your gaze away from her figure of the sorceress. She smiled, one of faked sympathy but still very true fondness. It was a spell she cast, and it seeped deep, like beautiful, shining, silver mercury mixing with the blood rushing in your veins. It was a spell she cast, one which filled your mouth with the sweetness of poisoned honey. The flow of mercury crept further up your legs, and you noticed just how joyous those freckles of hers were. She loved you, and that was all you needed. Her full lips yet again curved into a careful smile, one stripped from all kinds of sympathy and replaced with pity. The glinting river of mercury rotted away the redness of your blood, ate it up, wanting to have all the place for itself, wanting to have you just for itself. Her golden locks swayed in the breeze, and truly she must have been an angel. Your fingertips numbed, losing their sense of touch, but at this point it didn’t matter, because this bliss was within you, filling your every cell, and now you could carry it. It was a spell she cast, a spell which surrounded you like a soft and airless cocoon. The blood in your heart was banished, its place taken by the mercury sitting heavy on the faint scarlet throne, coating it with a layer of metallic silver. Her lips parted slightly as if wishing to say something, but all you could hear was the sizzling spell of molten lead in your ear, slowly dripping into your brain, and you could fell your sanity leaking out the back of your neck, vapouring away. It was a spell she cast, one of beauty and love, one of an enchantress, one of lethal poison and eternal bliss which you refused to let go off. It was a spell she cast and the last thing you saw before the whole world went out of focus was her form elegantly swaying as if ready to be swept into a dance, eyes peering into your soul, nude lips curled into a smile.