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Weekly Contest #328
I was born underneath a red eclipse. The midwives had talked about the moon shining its pure light onto my mother. She had said that I didn’t cry; I had apparently been used to the unusualness of the world. The unexpected guest at the door had appeared just as sneakily as the dark red moon. A witch, a sorceress, a madwoman, Satan’s right-hand: but these were only names that hid her true intentions in the halls of Ebon Palace. “Who could that be?” said Queen Sophia, holding her newborn child with shaky hands. The headmistress, Gresidal, wiped...
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