CHAPTER I
IT ALL BEGINS AGAIN
Once upon a time, in a magical land far, far away, there was an island called Verdeazul. It was a place where unimaginable creatures like fairies, witches, gnomes, and giants lived together in harmony. Every day was an adventure on the island, where anything could happen.
But there was also a dark part of the island, a forbidden place where evil reigned supreme. There lived Brujula, the most harmful witch in the universe, who never missed a chance to do evil and take over the whole world. She was always on the prowl, looking for horrible spells and keeping a close eye on everyone’s every move.
Humans didn’t know about Verdeazul, except for the chosen ones, those who believed in magic,
who could one day see it and perhaps even visit it, just like Etna did years ago. Then, her granddaughter Rossana inherited the family’s magical powers and helped in the battles against Brujula, who had been attacking them for almost as long as the world had existed. Brujula wanted to be the owner of all of Verdeazul.
THE WORST SPELL OF ALL
One night, something strange happened in Verdeazul. The fireflies woke up hurriedly, turning their lanterns on to light up the village streets, which seemed darker than usual. Heavy clouds covered the moon, and only a few stars managed to slip through them, not enough to brighten the night.
Suddenly, small white dots began to fall from the sky. They looked like cotton and felt cold to the touch and melted on the hands of those still wandering in the streets, those who tried to catch them curiously, for it had never snowed in Verdeazul before.
Cristal, the village sorceress, peeked out of her door, feeling the cold that slipped through the cracks. Then she saw the snow falling and ran inside, worried. She locked herself in the little room where she kept her old Cristal ball and began to read a magic spell from her book of white magic and chanted:
“Where cold and darkness live, between tears and fear, Show me where evil comes from!”
The magic ball rose in the air, images of Brujula, the evil witch in her tower surrounded by wickedness, laughing frantically and muttering nasty words out of her horrible mouth. On her desk, there was a book from which she appeared to be reading, searching for something page by page.
“No! This is not enough to continue my revenge against that horrible girl and her friends. They’re all going to pay for what they’ve done!”
Cristal looked horrified and then ran to put on her old cloak, a hat that revealed her pointed elf ears, and gloves. She picked up the small bag
where she always carried all her things to do her magic and hurried off without looking back.
Meanwhile, in the village, Yamar slept. The old lion king of Verdeazul was tired; being the king took a lot of work, so he fell asleep quickly when night came. But he was soon awakened by a knock on the door. At first, he thought he was dreaming, but he heard it again. He opened one eye, then the other. He turned over in bed and thought, “Oh, it was just my imagination,” he smiled, covered his head with one of his pillows, and went back to sleep, snoring loudly.
But it wasn’t long before he felt the knocking again. So, he jumped out of bed, turned the lights on, and walked, looking upset, to the door. There, standing in front of him, he saw the tiny figure of Cristal with her bright eyes piercing through him with an expression of urgency and concern.
“Cristal, what’s wrong?” he asked as he opened the door wide.
The sorceress entered without answering and sank into the chair near the entrance door. She looked tired and was trembling from the cold.
The lion remembered this scene, but from a long time ago. Something was going on!
Without saying anything, Cristal grabbed Yamar’s paw, led him to the door, and gave him a gentle push outside. She, too, came out, and then the king saw the white flakes for the first time. He held one that melted quickly; he repeated the same thing a few times, astonished, but he began to tremble from the cold.
He looked at the sorceress, puzzled, his eyes looking for an answer. There wasn’t a soul in the streets; everything was in silence. The tremendous darkness did not allow him to see in the distance, and he realized that his beautiful Verdeazul sky was covered with great clouds; neither the moon nor the stars could be seen.
“Let’s go back inside,” he told Cristal, who was also beginning to tremble.
She followed him into the little room, falling into the big seats, looking at each other, and making gestures of worry. What was happening to Verdeazul? What did the snow mean? They knew they had to find out and fast. The adventure was just beginning!
Meanwhile, in the dark part of the island, from a brand new castle built on the back of a huge dragon, the witch flew with her broom through the highest window, yonder from her horrifying tower.
“Hahaha...” she laughed, and everyone could hear those sinister laughs. Brujula flew through the heavy gray clouds until she reached the lake and started calling,
“Quantoarmidas!” she shouted, but nothing happened. “Quantormidas!” she repeated until two strange creatures emerged from the bottom of the lake. They were two identical twin mermaid-like creatures. They had skinny tails starting from a small spine covered by strong, long, gray hair, and from their faces, dense, dark eyes shone like lanterns. The Quantoarmidas had been down at the bottom of the lake for centuries, in a deep slumber most of the time, and they only woke up to eat or hunt. The terrible sisters didn’t like to be bothered. They came out of the lake, and as soon as their bony bodies left the water, their huge tails became skinny, long legs supporting two hunched
old gray hags, their gray hair reached down to their feet, and their terrifying black eyes shone brightly while their razor teeth, looking like knives, protruded from their mouths.
“What do you want?” the two sirens spoke in unison with a hoarse voice.
“I want to see the child,” demanded Brujula.
“Only for a minute.” was all the Quantoarmidas said simultaneously, then walked back into the water and disappeared, growing their tails as soon as their legs touched the water. They began to swim faster and faster until a big whirlpool formed, and smoke giving off a stinky, strong smell appeared in the air. Then Brujula could see the girl; she watched everything the girl was doing briefly until the two twins walked away and slipped through the rocks down at the bottom of the lake to fall asleep again.
The witch grabbed her broom and mounted it, flying back into her tower, entering through one of the windows into the spell room, which was dark. She lit a few candles, which, as they burned, could be heard squeaking as if they were in pain,
screaming from time to time. Thick spider webs covered the walls, and big books and small glass jars with fingers, eyes, teeth, and other things inside were scattered everywhere.
Brujula picked up the biggest, oldest book; its cover was the skin of some wretched man who also once fought the witch. A mouth was moving on the front of the cover, whispering,
“What do you want from me, my lady?”
“Look for page 13,” she replied.
“But, mistress, that’s the most dangerous spell of all!”
“Do as I ask, or I’ll throw you into the fire!”
Brujula squeaked with her horrible voice, gesturing with her hands to scare him.
The book said nothing more and turned its pages until it reached number 13, where in large letters and red ink, you could read the following:
“Only
conjure me up if you’re sure about how much wrong you want to do. Evil will walk the earth, destroying all that is good, and only when the chosen one can overcome her or his fears will she or he be able to break this spell of fear.”
