Timidly, Iris pushed back the branches and peered into the clearing. Sunshine drenched the ground as it poured through the canopy above.
She had been following the trail of clues for days, and she had finally reached her destination. Were the stories true? Was this really the place people in her village had talked about for centuries?
In the centre of the large clearing stood a beautiful castle like building, except it wasn’t like just any old rock castle that you read about. No. This castle was different. This castle had magnificent towers that stretched high into the sky, nearly as tall as the tallest trees, but not so tall that they could be seen from beyond the clearing. The walls made of white cobblestone and roofs made from wood that had been painted a brilliant ruby red. The oak strips decorated the sides and the windowsills and balconies had luscious green plants flawlessly place to make the whole scene bloom with life. Golden glows from windows littering the building.
But it wasn’t just the stunning looks that filled Iris with wonder and overwhelming disbelief, but the magical, mystical vibes that surrounded her, hugging close to her and filling her with warm, comforting feelings like being snuggled close to a blazing fire on a cold winters night.
She hoped her own story would have a fairytale ending, but in the back of her mind a sickening thought arose – what if something more sinister waited ahead? Had she travelled all this way just for it to be a story like Hansel and Gretel but just the beginning?
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