The Witch Of The Starry Skies

The final remnants of autumn's vibrant foliage fluttered to the ground from the barren tree, carried away by the biting wind. Two children knelt upon the frosted earth, their meager attire offering little protection against the chill that permeated their small frames. Yet, despite the uncomfortable cold, the children remained resolute, their unwavering focus locked on the gnarled wooden door of an eerie treehouse.

"I've already told you, I'm not inclined to assist. Cease your pestering and depart," a crabby voice from within the house grumbled.

Hearing the voice, the children quivered with fear, but they refused to yield. In response, an elderly man with long, white hair and a flowing beard emerged from the treehouse. A foreboding aura emanated from him, casting an oppressive atmosphere. He pointed a bony, wand-like finger at the children and spoke in a shrill tone, "I had contemplated sprucing up my front yard with some sculptures. Since you insist on lingering, you shall make perfect adornments."

These dire words replaced the children's beseeching gazes with trepidation. Despite the surging emotions, the boy managed to stammer, "Please, Master Warlock, aid our ailing mother. In exchange, I offer myself as your garden ornament."

"No!" the girl cried out, "Master Warlock, pay no heed to him. You can transform me into any garden feature, but please, help our mother and release my brother."

Observing this poignant tableau, the elderly man let out an exaggerated laugh, as though witnessing the most absurd comedy imaginable. He wiped away a faux tear and remarked with cruelty, "Perhaps you both should consider a career in the theater, rather than intruding here. Your talents might earn you enough to care for your poor, sick mother."

Despite the mockery, the children remained composed, pleading once more, "Please, assist our mother, gracious Warlock. We are prepared to undertake any task. Please, help our mother, we implore you."

Their supplications only further infuriated the old man, his face flushing with anger. Finally, his patience wore thin when the children began banging their heads on the icy floor, resulting in injuries and the flow of crimson. Witnessing his pristine yard sullied, the old warlock snapped his fingers, unleashing a dark aura that gradually petrified the children. As their bodies stiffened, panic set in, and they made a futile attempt to flee. But it was too late. They transformed into stone statues, frozen mid-flight with fear etched on their visages.

After admiring his handiwork for a brief moment, the old man snapped his fingers once more, erasing the bloodstains from the ground. Satisfied with the tidied yard, he happily retreated inside, contemplating his evening meal. At that very instant, the chirping of a bird reached his ears, transforming his wrinkled countenance into one of delight. He promptly opened a window with a flick of his fingers and spoke with indulgence.

"Little Star, you've returned at last. Grandpa missed you dearly."

As his voice trailed off, a tiny bird flew in, transmuting into a young girl with shimmering golden hair adorned with a flower hairband. She bounded about like a rabbit, embracing the old man tightly and dispelling the previous gloom. She replied, "Big G, I missed you too." The old warlock patted the girl and inquired, "Why didn't you inform me that your training had concluded? I would have come to collect you."

"Forgive me, Big G, I wanted to surprise you," the girl responded, her guilt palpable.

Witnessing her contrition, the old man uttered, "Well, I am indeed surprised," bringing a smile to the girl's face. The old wizard inquired, "Are you hungry? Go wash up, and I shall prepare your favorite—cheesy crust bread and creamy potato soup."

"Wow, thanks, Big G. You're the best. But don't fret over being unclean," Star declared proudly, snapping her fingers and activating a cleansing spell that purged all dirt and impurities from her body and attire.

The old man gazed at the girl with glistening eyes and cheered, "Star, Star, she's the best. If she can't do it, no one can."

Basking in the applause, Star stood tall and accepted the accolades until her stomach betrayed her with an audible rumble. Her face flushed, and tears welled up in embarrassment. Upon witnessing this, the old man promptly quipped, "Oh, I'm famished too. My stomach is creating quite the commotion." Hearing his words, Star beamed and retorted, "Silly Big G, it's not your stomach making the amusing sounds; it's mine."

"Well, then perhaps my hearing is failing. Little Star, take a seat, and I'll prepare a meal for you."

"Big G, I'd like to assist. I've learned many skills during my Witch apprentice training."

"If that's the case, then Grandpa will enjoy a meal prepared by you, my Star."

Grandfather and granddaughter ventured into the kitchen, collecting ingredients for their meal. The old man listed the ingredients, "Potato."

"Here," Star replied.

"Onion."

"Here."

"Garlic."

"Here."

"Carrots."

"Here."

"Ginger."

"Amueee… I don't see any ginger, Big G."

"Oh, yes, I used it up this morning. Little Star, could you fetch some from the yard?"

"Of course," Star replied and skipped into the front yard. While the old man continued to slice vegetables with deft precision, his movements gradually slowed as he pondered what he had forgotten. After a few moments of reflection, he realized that the statue he had created remained in the yard. Without hesitation, he flung his knife aside and rushed towards the door. Regrettably, it was too late. Star's anguished cries reverberated through the yard.