The Prince had heard tales of a banished, scorned Witch, well-learned in the magic arts, who lived deep in the same woods in which he met the Knight. As it was also forbidden to seek the counsel of a Witch, he took leave at twilight, when all the kingdom was asleep. He traveled by horse until the morning sun peeked over the mountains and through the dense forest canopy, the spark held tightly in his hands guiding his way.

But it was not the Witch he found in the forest. Once again, the Prince came upon the Knight, who had made camp just beyond the edge of the woods.

For a while, they stood in silence, staring at each other, the Prince unsure what to say out of fear. After all, how could he tell the Knight about the spark and that ever since their first meeting, his thoughts had dwelled on the handsome Knight? The Knight might think him mad, or worse. In all the history of the Kingdoms Below the Skies, a prince had never been allowed to love a knight.

Love. Is that what this is? thought the Prince to himself. This cannot be. The spark in his hands glowed, and its electricity flowed through him until his entire body was illuminated.

But the Knight did not cower, nor did he seem surprised at all.

For when the Knight stepped forward and extended his hand, the Prince saw that in the Knight’s palm was a twin spark that glowed brighter the closer the two became.

“I have been searching for you,” said the Knight. “I see you every time I close my eyes.”

All at once, the Prince understood that these twin sparks had been calling out to each other, and so he reached out a hand to the Knight’s. As their fingers intertwined, a bolt of lightning shot up into the skies, its brilliant flashes stretching across the blue. Moments later, a thunderous boom shook the earth as if a giant stomped across the clouds. The force ripped the Prince and the Knight apart, and the bolt of lightning retreated from the skies back into their hands.

Suddenly, dark storm clouds grew, blanketing the skies as hard, tear-shaped droplets of rain poured down across the earth.

“What does this mean?” asked the Knight.

“I don’t know, but I was on my way to see the fabled Witch of the woods to rid myself of this curse,” said the Prince.

“Is that what this is? A curse?” asked the Knight.

“If it isn’t, then what explanation is there?” asked the Prince.

“If it’s a witch you seek, a witch you’ll find,” said the Witch, appearing suddenly before them. “I can help you, but you’ll pay a price.”

“How much?” asked the Prince. “To break this curse?”

“A small sacrifice, one gold coin cannot buy.” The Witch grinned, manifesting a knife in her hands. Running the blade across the Prince’s chest, she said, “You must each carve out a morsel of your own hearts.”