The Bejewelled Chest

Based on the story of Pandora's box, with my own little twist of how things turn out, what comes out of the box, what remains behind, and what happens after. How long it goes... I don't know where it ends so we'll see where it leads.

Many years ago, centuries, millenia, whatever you wish to call them... they are all the same to me. All rolled into one long story that never ends. Back to when I was still human, a mortal as most who live in this world. Before my sister received the bejewelled chest that would change our lives forever.

Things had been simpler then, quieter, slower than they are now. My brothers, my sisters and I had been gathered from our home, a lonely hill we had turned into a home after our parents had died. Men in dark cloaks, their faces hidden by the hoods, their horses black as the midnight sky. No words had been spoken, but we had been taken to a castle known to be haunted.

As peasant children, we had been gifted from many traveling story tellers with the tale of the castle. It was said to be haunted, and bewitched. On nights of the full moon bright lights were said to flash from the windows, and a strange song would play until the wee hours of the morning. As if it were summoning someone or something. The fact we were being taken there did not prove a comfort.

"Mezmora?" I glanced at my younger sister, her blue eyes emphasized by the fear that widened them. "Where are they taking us?" I took her by the hand, feeling the sweaty palm and gave it a squeeze. "I don't know Amery. Wherever we're taken." I didn't let go of her hand, and I could feel her hand tighten around mine. I couldn't blame her for being scared, I was too. Pandora maintained a sense of arrogance, as though she were a queen being escorted to her throne. Some things never change.

The End

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