The Midnight Witch’s Secret
In the heart of the village, everyone whispered about the Midnight Witch. She lived at the edge of the forest in a small, crooked house with a garden that seemed to bloom in every season. By day, she was nowhere to be seen, and her home was hidden under thick shadows of ancient trees. But by midnight, a soft glow would emerge from her windows, casting flickering lights across the forest floor, and strange, delicate fragrances would drift out into the night air.
The villagers avoided her, out of caution and a little fear. Rumors swirled about her powers—she could summon spirits, transform shadows into living things, and weave spells that bound the forest to her will. Some said she was hundreds of years old, while others believed she was just a girl who’d made a pact with the darkness. But no one knew for sure. She was a mystery, cloaked in whispers and shadows.
One night, a young boy named Lyle, curious and brave, decided to unravel the Midnight Witch’s secret. As the clock struck twelve, he crept into the forest, following the path illuminated by the glow from her window. Each step felt like stepping deeper into another world, the air growing heavy and charged with magic.
As he reached her door, it opened before he even knocked, as if she’d been expecting him. She stood there, bathed in moonlight, a figure both strange and beautiful. Her eyes glowed like stars, and her voice was soft as she invited him inside. Lyle followed, heart pounding, not knowing if he was walking into wonder or danger.
Inside, the room was filled with shelves of ancient books, jars of curious ingredients, and candles that burned with blue and green flames. In the center of the room stood a cauldron, bubbling with a potion that shimmered like liquid stardust. The Midnight Witch smiled at him, sensing his awe, and told him that she’d reveal her secret—but only if he promised never to share it.
With a nod, Lyle agreed, and the Midnight Witch took him to a hidden room at the back of her house. There, beneath a glass dome, was a single, small seed glowing faintly. She told him it was the Seed of Midnight—a source of ancient magic, tied to the cycles of the moon and the rhythm of the earth. Every night, she nurtured it, for it held the power to protect the village, to keep the balance between the seen and unseen worlds.
She shared that it was a delicate magic, one that required solitude and secrecy, lest it fall into the wrong hands. Her isolation, her reputation, even the fear she inspired—all of it was necessary to guard this precious secret, to keep the magic alive.
As Lyle left that night, he felt changed. He’d discovered not just the Midnight Witch’s secret but a truth about magic itself—it was not always grand and powerful but quiet, hidden, and deeply connected to the world around him. And though he kept her secret, he would always remember that on one midnight, he had seen true magic.