I would sell my soul to dream you.
They say be careful what you wish for. That what you desire can become bittersweet. What could be worth the price of a soul? A love wild and without constraints. Molten amber eyes and honeyed promises. For what seems to be unreal, impossible, too amazing to be true… it is. Pretty lies spun by a master wordsmith.
True love wins all, but when the true love isn’t yours to claim a soul for a wish no longer seems to be a good deal.
And when the wish has been granted, it’s too late. There is no going back.
Nikella Candereu stood away from the others, arms folded delicately over snow white fabric. She could have easily been mistaken for a queen, draped in shimmering silk and lace, black hair piled on top her head and pined in place with pearls. Her posture was regal, stiff, authoritative. She did not smile, nor did she speak. In fact, this woman had not spoken since the moment she arrived. Those that dared to approach her received a cold stare and nothing more.
Her journey to this strange tower was not perilous. Perhaps it was wrought with dangers, death and blood. Nikella noticed none of it. She had no fear, she had no feeling. The things she saw in the forest did not shock her, nor move her to tears. There was but one moment that gave her pause. Thinking about it now had her fingers tightening around her arms.
Nikella’s arrival to the witch’s abode came without ceremony. On the first day and even the second, she had entertained the thought of leaving. Walking away and forgetting about the strange invitation. A wish was a powerful thing. A thing that could be twisted and turned. But a wish was also irresistible. With the right words a wish could fix anything, be anything. A witch with a request would repay you with something special. That alone was what made her stay. If should could have a wish from a witch…
After all, Nikella already sold her soul. There was nothing else she could lose.