The Bewitched Soul

Sitting on the branch of the tree, Alexander saw the beauty inside the carriage. The striking facial features... everything resembled except for the platinum blonde hair. One could hardly spot a person with platinum blonde hair in the Land of Brookville. The only person Alexander knew who had platinum blonde hair was his dead cousin, Jacob.

Even if Margaret is the one... he couldn't spot the pure crystal stone. He tried to scrutinize her when she was about to leave the party, but couldn't find that stone. There were many unanswered questions right now. But for now, he only waited to see the girl. After she left, no matter how hard he tried not to, he ended up following her. It felt like a connection. Being a vampire from pure blood lineage, Alexander had superpowers. But it all failed when he tried to know more about her. He has asked Margaret to dance along with. This was a perfect opportunity for him to know her, but when they touched... Alexander could only hear her heart thumping against her chest. He felt strange.

Thinking about this,

'This is the first time she's attending a party.'

He remembered Corbette saying this to him when he first met Margaret.

'First time?' Alex thought to himself.

This implied that she was hiding from the crowd all these years. Corbette had once adopted a human sixteen years back, which meant that Margaret was his adopted daughter. Being the pure blood, Alex was sure too that she wasn't just a human. He could easily identify if she was human. Seeing the carriage pass by, Alex heard his heart beat faster. His heart crumbled inside his body when he saw the distancing carriage when vanished amidst the snowy fog.

He sat on the branch for a while before heading back to the castle.

The castle which was filled with people a few moments ago was all deserted again. Alexander walked past the huge hall to the swirling stairs. On his way, he stepped on something. Looking down, he saw a hairpin with a strand of hair sticking to it. He carefully took it and placed it safely in his pocket.

'Merry Christmas' he wished himself.

It was already thirty minutes past twelve. While climbing the stairs, he stopped. Thinking for a while, he started climbing the stairs again. Reaching the first floor, he turned to his left and started walking. He walked slowly taking short steps. The dark corridor smelled like dust. He suddenly stopped and turned to his right to open a door. The door creaked open. He walked straight towards the bed after shutting the door. He laid down on the bed and took out the hairpin out of his coat pocket.

Looking at it, his lips curled up... but his eyes showed no emotions.

He carefully looked curled the strand of hair with his finger which looked like a silver string circling around his finger. The platinum blonde hair strand glowed against the dim light.

He fell asleep.


Alexander was wrapped in profound sleep, enveloped by the warmth of silence. In our sleep, we dream of things past, things that will never happen ever again. Sometimes we dream of visiting the one we lost. In the world of dreams, we tend to imagine things which happen according to us. We weave our own dream and end it as we please. We often dream of past, like the incidents we never wanted to happen... or the incidents which never went in our way as we wanted. We also dream of things which left no trace in our lives.

The night was unusually quiet.

Alexander woke up from his sleep as if he heard something. His face void of emotions. His blackish violet eyes radiated a deep shade of black in the dark room. The radiant moon reflected herself as a tiny star in the bottomless pool of darkness like eyes. After a while, he got up and went near the window. Touching the window pane, he remembered a scene from the past.

'You cannot be this weak Alexander. Your mother was one of the strongest women I've seen.'

'She was beautiful... most beautiful'

The scene was fresh in his mind as if it had happened yesterday. The whole scene was being played in front of him. The five-year-old Alexander was pleading to the Lord, his eyes drowned in his own pool of tears. The remembered how his father's eyes were void of emotions, yet they told a story of sadness and grief as a single drop of tear slowly fell down his face while staring outside the window.

He was in his father's room.

Being the most powerful king of all provinces in his time, Lord Randolph had felt helpless in front of his son. He saw his father sitting in a state of profound grief and sadness. His face lowered... staring at the floor, the tears in his eyes threatened to drop down any moment. His hands gripped his knees hard as if he would have collapsed any soon. His eyes were red and staring before him, and his face was tightened hard not to show any emotions. He tried to control his emotions but failed bitterly.

Lord Alexander closed his eyes gently. He didn't want to experience the painful past again. His heart sank deep inside his body. His forced breathing could not handle the amount of pain his heart was suffering. He felt suffocated.

Looking down the window, he jumped landing on his feet.

He took short slow steps. He wandered in the garden full of trees. Out of the many, there stood a giant tree. Its naked branches were adorned with frost. Not a single leaf in the tree, but the dripping frost added beauty to the overall appearance. It looked like the time froze as the snow melted and dripped down the leaf-less branches. The long narrow water crystals hung down the branches. The huge broad trunk was covered with rough patches of crystal clear frost giving a glassy effect to it.

It looked like a glass tree with long narrow pointed glass leaves.

For a human, it would have been a scary old tree without leaves. But if one notices it carefully, it was nature's beauty and one of a kind.

The tree lived for centuries. What made it special that it never had leaves.