by Anonymous
Spring was just settling in from the last breaths of winter’s hymn. Green buds blossomed from the snow and peach trees flowered like bridesmaid-boughs in soft-pastel dresses. Frozen rivers melted and slowly trickled down beds of rock and mossy green.
Spring came, as did the swans.
Aurelia sat in the bare wintry wands of a tree just starting to sprout, breathing heavily as she watched a rag of horses and their noble riders dash below her. The sounds of armor clinking and the padding of hoofs on the solid ground got quieter as the group raced on further, searching for Aurelia. Once she was sure they were out of view, she exhaled slowly and slipped down to the forest floor. The song of spring lilted through the forest but not loud enough to drown out the melting pools of ice and the bracing wind in the still air, so Aurelia shrugged her stolen fabrics closer. Her pale skin was flushed a rose pink in the rigor breeze. She paused and felt underneath her fabrics for the bundle of goods she took from the castle, unwrapping the material around it just to be safe.
A welter of bloodied grey feathers lay in the damp cloth.
Aurelia sighed with relief upon seeing them still in place but immediately wrapped them back up once the pungent scent of dead bird seeped in the now stagnant air. She tightened the string on her quiver of arrows and adjusted her bow on her back before setting off deeper into the unfathomable forest of angular branches spreading out before a silvery sky. The encroaching doom of twilight crept closer and Aurelia went from an aimless wander into a hurried jog. She felt as if the forest would never end as tight-knit, twisting roots stretched across the acres and acres of land. She broke into a run as the sky dimmed, slamming into rotting trees and barely missing outstretched branches. She slipped and stumbled over mossy logs and damp rocks and ran straight through spider webs. Everything blurred into a dizzying palette of dusky hues, like that of an ink wash.
Aurelia slowed her pace as she noticed a clearing, and the blonde took it as a moment to catch her breath. She pressed her palms into her knees and counted a couple of seconds before walking below the dark canopy of trees that formed a ring around the clearing. The choking mist in the center of the clearing thinned as she approached it, revealing a moonlight lake glistening in the darkness.
Yellow buttercups were bunched together by the lake and contrasted against the dark ambience, as if spring felt the need to show it’s bloom even in the eeriest of atmospheres.
Aurelia kneeled by the lake and clasped the clear waters into her hands, drinking greedily. She didn’t realize how thirsty she was. As she drank from the lake, she noticed a rippling reflection drifting closer to her peripheral vision, and stiffened, lifting her head to see what it was.
It was a bevy of seven swans. They floated upon the waters with an air of wistful elegance. They moved with such grace as they circled the lake in a melancholy dance. From the gentle curve of their necks to the sheen of their wings, Aurelia was drawn to the ethereal flock. Yet she still slowly edged away, as not to startle them and watched from a fair distance. But the swan that caught her eye most of all was a dark, raven swan who led the group and contrasted heavily against the rest of the swans’ snowy-white plumage. She set her focus on the black swan, watching it move about the glossy waters. The birds appeared to notice Aurelia and slowly glided over to her.
Her breath caught in her throat as she tried not to make any abrupt moves as the swans circled her. Suddenly, they all plunged forward at her, outstretching their wings and shrieking piercingly into the night. Their eyes were wild and red, glinting with a desire for bloodshed as they ripped at Aurelia, tearing through her fabrics and into her skin. She flailed about helplessly, kicking and hitting at the swans as she cried for help. Scarlet liquid seeped through her clothes with sickening determination as she struggled against the swans. Just then, an arrow slipped from her quiver and clattered to the soil beside her. She grasped it swiftly before stabbing it at nothing in particular, hoping it would pierce into one of the birds. It was struck straight into the chest of the black swan, drawing blood the deep red of wine. The swans stopped their attack at once gathering around the dying black swan.
The swan lay motionless on the ground yet began to pull and twist out of shape. Its dark wings stretched into human arms, its legs contorted into human legs, limb after limb until it was no longer a swan but a beautiful woman. She lay sprawled in a pool of her own blood beside Aurelia, the arrow lodged firmly into her heart.
It wasn’t long before the other swans followed her suit, distorting themselves into six women. They snapped their necks back to face Aurelia who was frozen in a kind of dread she had never felt in her life.
Seasons filtered by, spring into summer, summer into autumn, autumn into winter and the lake was long frozen over. The ring of buttercups had withered into dust.
The pearly ice enclasped two bodies below its glassy surface, holding them as if to preserve them for the imminent calling of spring.
Elements Magazine 