The following words were called loud and relentlessly into the darkness of midnight many, many years ago, in the time of the Long Winter, T.A 2759. Ice and snow fell from the sky upon the woman scorned; the moon veiled by the blackest of clouds and the whitest of mist, and her voice the harbinger of doom and ruin upon the world and her lover, the one who had left her in the cold as she lay in childbirth, screaming of thirst, of hunger, and of pain.
Thin and pale, yet tall in stature, she carved out the heart of a wolf and ate it to strengthen herself, and she cried and she wailed as she tore at her flesh and drew blood with a crude knife, and at her feet there was a lifeless child, born without breath or heartbeat, her greatest sorrow. In anger and despair she called upon the old powers that be, to bring justice for her child and vengeance upon the one who wronged her, in vain hope to have her child live again through the sacrifice of others.
Her story was told amongst the local folks who lived through the Long Winter and even longer thereafter, until well into our days. The witch they called her, for they knew not her real name, or it had been forgotten over the ages; and it was said she still lived there, deep within the oldest glades where roots and trees walk and whisper, and that if you listened closely, one would hear the sound of a woman weeping among the willows.
I gave my love to thee
I gave my heart to thee
I gave myself to thee
Thou had my flesh
Thou had my heart
Thou had my love
Thou left me in the cold
Thou left me in the dark
Thou left me in the pain
Gone was our love
Gone was our joy
Gone was our child
Alone I waited in the cold
Alone I waited in the blood
Alone I waited with the dead
In the emptiness I screamed
In the darkness I cried
In the cold I despaired
Hoping thou would return to me
Hoping our love would blossom
Hoping our child would live
Yet for me there was no hope
Yet for me there was no joy
Yet for me there was no life
Once more I give of my soul
Twice more I give of my flesh
Thrice more I give of my blood
Once I damn thee and thine
Twice I doom thee and thine
Thrice I curse thee and thine
When day gives way to night
When sun gives way to rain
When warmth gives way to frost
All thine firstborn’s breath be empty
All thine firstborn’s blood be cold
All thine firstborn’s soul be mine
This doom I lay upon thee and thine
This ruin I lay upon thee and thine
This curse I lay upon thee and thine
Until my thirst has been slaked
Until my hunger has been sated
Until my grief has turned to joy
Related to The Blessing of Bema and the Witch's Curse - Prologue, by Yllfa
