"Rohesia's Journey"
by Olivia Curtis
Once upon a time, a young girl named Rohesia was known throughout her village as the poor girl, for she had been separated from her family during the war. Everyone else believed that her parents and brother had been three of the hundreds of casualties the war produced, but not Rohesia. She would tell whoever would listen that they were still alive, and that she would find them soon.
It hadn’t been a year before Rohesia had raised enough money doing small jobs and decided that it was time to set off on her journey. It was her knowledge that her family had been relocated to Aragon, so she bid her farewells to everyone she’d known in the village, and began walking in that direction. Little did she know, a young woman was following close behind her and out of sight.
This woman, Agnes, lived in the village but kept away from the bustle of the busy streets. Rumors about her flew around the village quicker than the Spring breeze. “I heard that she only ever comes out of her cottage at night,” someone would say to their friend, only to have their words twisted until the whole village thought that she was a vampire. Rohesia, however, had quite a different opinion of Agnes, and intended on saying goodbye to her before she departed. As she was approaching the cottage, though, she could see that the door was locked and the shutters drawn. Knowing it would be wrong to go in without an invitation, a lesson a friend of hers had learned when she was younger, Rohesia turned around with eagerness and walked away.
Behind her, the shutters moved aside to reveal piercing green eyes that were filled with bitterness and an evil glint. Agnes had never had a family, and the thought of the girl she despised the most finding hers was too much to bear. The cheerful smile that was always on Rohesia’s face filled Agnes with loathing, so she too set off to make sure she wouldn’t ever see it again.
As Rohesia ambled along the wooded path, she saw ahead of her a stout woman in rags unsuccessfully reaching for two apples on a branch above her head. The young girl dashed over to assist the woman who was actually Agnes in disguise.
“Please, little girl,” Agnes croaked in a fake voice. “Please get me those apples on the branch. You seem able enough to climb up and fetch them.”
“Of course,” responded Rohesia as she nimbly leapt onto a low-hanging branch. The apples were easily accessible to Rohesia, and she landed on the ground not two minutes after she’d left it.
“Your kindness will treat you well in life,” the woman smiled, chuckling to herself. “Please take this apple as a reward.” Little did Rohesia know, the evil woman had poisoned both of the apples.
“No, I couldn’t. You enjoy this fruit, you need it more than I do. I wish you luck in your travels.” And with a flash of her cheery smile, Rohesia strolled away from Agnes, who was frustrated with the failure of her plan, yet had another one already forming.
Three hours after her encounter with Agnes, Rohesia spotted a wolf in the underbrush eyeing her suspiciously. What she didn’t see, however, was Agnes sitting high up in a tree watching the scene below. She had convinced the wolf to eat Rohesia for his dinner, and was waiting for him to attack.
All of a sudden, a lovely voice filled the woods and made the wolf stop in his tracks. Rohesia had begun to sing a melodious and silvery tune that seemed to be coming from the soft breeze rustling the leaves. Not only was a sound coming from her mouth, but small pieces of meat were being dropped onto the ground. The distracted wolf was eating her meal instead of making her his. When her song ended, she turned and knelt on the ground at the feet of the now full wolf. “There is a field full of rabbits and mice three hours from this spot. Go there and you will no longer be hungry.” With a nod, the wolf bounded in the opposite direction and Rohesia was on her way again, much to the chagrin of Agnes, who was now angrier than ever.
When the girl came upon Aragon, her spirits soared as high as the thin, white clouds she saw in the sky above her head. Rohesia knew the majority of the population was in the Ebro River Basin, so she made sure to follow the river until she happened upon a bend. There she saw something that brought about tremendous surprise.
“Agnes!” she exclaimed, rushing over to the woman. “I’d tried to say goodbye to you before I set off, but you weren’t home. Have you been here all this time?” A new surge of anger washed over Agnes like lava coming out of a volcano as she looked into the bright, expectant eyes of Rohesia.
“Yes,” Agnes lied with a false smile in Rohesia’s direction that looked more like a grimace. “But I need your help. The woman who lives in the house up there,” she began, pointing up a hill away from the water, “she stole something from me that I need back. I’ve tried talking to her, but she won’t listen to a word I say. You must help me.”
“Don’t worry, Agnes,” Rohesia replied with determination. “I’ll talk to her. What is it that she stole?”
“My recipe book that has been passed down for centuries in my family.” As Rohesia marched up the hill and knocked on the door, Agnes stifled a laugh. It was common knowledge that the meanest witch alive lived there. It was rumored that children went missing around her home, and some swore they’d seen the witch stop a flood from hitting her cottage just by looking at it. Rohesia surely had no chance surviving if she knocked on that door.
From her hiding spot near the river, Agnes could see and hear everything that was going on outside the house. When the door opened, a hard, mean looking woman stepped out. “Why do you do dare knock on my door, little girl?” she growled.
“I apologize for disturbing you,” Rohesia began, not at all shaken by the woman’s rude opening. “My friend told me that you had her family recipe book. She was wondering if it would be possible to get it back.”
“I don’t have no recipe book of hers. And why doesn’t she ask me herself?”
“Oh, I thought she had,” Rohesia faltered, looking puzzled. “I’m sorry to have been an inconvenience. Is there anything I can do to help you? I did lots of work in my village, and I can assist you in almost anything.”
“You mean,” the woman’s growl had softened just a bit, “you’re not afraid to come in?”
“Of course not. I’d love to lend a helping hand, but I am in search of my family. I know they live somewhere near the Ebro River.”
“A group of three passed through here not long ago. Maybe a few months. They were on their way to Zaragoza. They weren’t afraid to talk to me either. That could be them. You look like them too.” At the wide-eyed face of Rohesia she exclaimed, “Don’t worry about me! Go and find your family. And good luck!” But Rohesia was already down the hill and flying over the ground. She would see her family soon.
When she reached the city of Zaragoza, she asked everyone she saw if they’d seen her family. After hundreds of no’s and shaking of heads, she caught a glimpse of a market stall that sold clothes she knew her mother would have adored. When she rushed over and looked up to see the beaming eyes that she’d grown up with, she ran into the arms she’d missed so much. Her father and brother returned minutes later, as if drawn to the reunion of a family. She was finally home.
Meanwhile, when Agnes wandered into the market and caught sight of four of the cheerful smiles she hated most, she ran out of the city and was never seen again by anyone. Over the course of the next few months, Rohesia poured out every detail of her time spent alone in the village to her family, and they responded with seemingly endless stories of their journey and their plan to find her again when they were able.
It was with the assistance of Rohesia’s new job working for the not-so-evil witch and her mother and father’s employments that they were capable of putting food on the table every day and, along with the company of a finally complete family, the four lived happily ever after.
by Olivia Curtis
Once upon a time, a young girl named Rohesia was known throughout her village as the poor girl, for she had been separated from her family during the war. Everyone else believed that her parents and brother had been three of the hundreds of casualties the war produced, but not Rohesia. She would tell whoever would listen that they were still alive, and that she would find them soon.
It hadn’t been a year before Rohesia had raised enough money doing small jobs and decided that it was time to set off on her journey. It was her knowledge that her family had been relocated to Aragon, so she bid her farewells to everyone she’d known in the village, and began walking in that direction. Little did she know, a young woman was following close behind her and out of sight.
This woman, Agnes, lived in the village but kept away from the bustle of the busy streets. Rumors about her flew around the village quicker than the Spring breeze. “I heard that she only ever comes out of her cottage at night,” someone would say to their friend, only to have their words twisted until the whole village thought that she was a vampire. Rohesia, however, had quite a different opinion of Agnes, and intended on saying goodbye to her before she departed. As she was approaching the cottage, though, she could see that the door was locked and the shutters drawn. Knowing it would be wrong to go in without an invitation, a lesson a friend of hers had learned when she was younger, Rohesia turned around with eagerness and walked away.
Behind her, the shutters moved aside to reveal piercing green eyes that were filled with bitterness and an evil glint. Agnes had never had a family, and the thought of the girl she despised the most finding hers was too much to bear. The cheerful smile that was always on Rohesia’s face filled Agnes with loathing, so she too set off to make sure she wouldn’t ever see it again.
As Rohesia ambled along the wooded path, she saw ahead of her a stout woman in rags unsuccessfully reaching for two apples on a branch above her head. The young girl dashed over to assist the woman who was actually Agnes in disguise.
“Please, little girl,” Agnes croaked in a fake voice. “Please get me those apples on the branch. You seem able enough to climb up and fetch them.”
“Of course,” responded Rohesia as she nimbly leapt onto a low-hanging branch. The apples were easily accessible to Rohesia, and she landed on the ground not two minutes after she’d left it.
“Your kindness will treat you well in life,” the woman smiled, chuckling to herself. “Please take this apple as a reward.” Little did Rohesia know, the evil woman had poisoned both of the apples.
“No, I couldn’t. You enjoy this fruit, you need it more than I do. I wish you luck in your travels.” And with a flash of her cheery smile, Rohesia strolled away from Agnes, who was frustrated with the failure of her plan, yet had another one already forming.
Three hours after her encounter with Agnes, Rohesia spotted a wolf in the underbrush eyeing her suspiciously. What she didn’t see, however, was Agnes sitting high up in a tree watching the scene below. She had convinced the wolf to eat Rohesia for his dinner, and was waiting for him to attack.
All of a sudden, a lovely voice filled the woods and made the wolf stop in his tracks. Rohesia had begun to sing a melodious and silvery tune that seemed to be coming from the soft breeze rustling the leaves. Not only was a sound coming from her mouth, but small pieces of meat were being dropped onto the ground. The distracted wolf was eating her meal instead of making her his. When her song ended, she turned and knelt on the ground at the feet of the now full wolf. “There is a field full of rabbits and mice three hours from this spot. Go there and you will no longer be hungry.” With a nod, the wolf bounded in the opposite direction and Rohesia was on her way again, much to the chagrin of Agnes, who was now angrier than ever.
When the girl came upon Aragon, her spirits soared as high as the thin, white clouds she saw in the sky above her head. Rohesia knew the majority of the population was in the Ebro River Basin, so she made sure to follow the river until she happened upon a bend. There she saw something that brought about tremendous surprise.
“Agnes!” she exclaimed, rushing over to the woman. “I’d tried to say goodbye to you before I set off, but you weren’t home. Have you been here all this time?” A new surge of anger washed over Agnes like lava coming out of a volcano as she looked into the bright, expectant eyes of Rohesia.
“Yes,” Agnes lied with a false smile in Rohesia’s direction that looked more like a grimace. “But I need your help. The woman who lives in the house up there,” she began, pointing up a hill away from the water, “she stole something from me that I need back. I’ve tried talking to her, but she won’t listen to a word I say. You must help me.”
“Don’t worry, Agnes,” Rohesia replied with determination. “I’ll talk to her. What is it that she stole?”
“My recipe book that has been passed down for centuries in my family.” As Rohesia marched up the hill and knocked on the door, Agnes stifled a laugh. It was common knowledge that the meanest witch alive lived there. It was rumored that children went missing around her home, and some swore they’d seen the witch stop a flood from hitting her cottage just by looking at it. Rohesia surely had no chance surviving if she knocked on that door.
From her hiding spot near the river, Agnes could see and hear everything that was going on outside the house. When the door opened, a hard, mean looking woman stepped out. “Why do you do dare knock on my door, little girl?” she growled.
“I apologize for disturbing you,” Rohesia began, not at all shaken by the woman’s rude opening. “My friend told me that you had her family recipe book. She was wondering if it would be possible to get it back.”
“I don’t have no recipe book of hers. And why doesn’t she ask me herself?”
“Oh, I thought she had,” Rohesia faltered, looking puzzled. “I’m sorry to have been an inconvenience. Is there anything I can do to help you? I did lots of work in my village, and I can assist you in almost anything.”
“You mean,” the woman’s growl had softened just a bit, “you’re not afraid to come in?”
“Of course not. I’d love to lend a helping hand, but I am in search of my family. I know they live somewhere near the Ebro River.”
“A group of three passed through here not long ago. Maybe a few months. They were on their way to Zaragoza. They weren’t afraid to talk to me either. That could be them. You look like them too.” At the wide-eyed face of Rohesia she exclaimed, “Don’t worry about me! Go and find your family. And good luck!” But Rohesia was already down the hill and flying over the ground. She would see her family soon.
When she reached the city of Zaragoza, she asked everyone she saw if they’d seen her family. After hundreds of no’s and shaking of heads, she caught a glimpse of a market stall that sold clothes she knew her mother would have adored. When she rushed over and looked up to see the beaming eyes that she’d grown up with, she ran into the arms she’d missed so much. Her father and brother returned minutes later, as if drawn to the reunion of a family. She was finally home.
Meanwhile, when Agnes wandered into the market and caught sight of four of the cheerful smiles she hated most, she ran out of the city and was never seen again by anyone. Over the course of the next few months, Rohesia poured out every detail of her time spent alone in the village to her family, and they responded with seemingly endless stories of their journey and their plan to find her again when they were able.
It was with the assistance of Rohesia’s new job working for the not-so-evil witch and her mother and father’s employments that they were capable of putting food on the table every day and, along with the company of a finally complete family, the four lived happily ever after.