As if by magic
From the window of a tower at Nottingham Castle, two men looked out over the moonlit courtyard. Concentrating on a point that moved with mathematical precision, were absorbed.
Each was fascinated by what appeared to be a human figure, but no specific features. Or, perhaps, a paranormal vision that repeated a ritual.
The complicit moon shone in their footsteps as if marking a path to follow.
At some point, it just disappeared before their eyes, and at that moment they did look at each other in amazement as if searching for an exclamation mark in each other's eyes. They quickly saw again, and there she was again, only now she was a beautiful woman who looked at them and invited them with a wave of her hand.
There is usually a picnic with dancing and singing for this season, just when the full moon is in full swing. But, this time it didn't happen because last year's ended in tragedy.
No one could explain how the women disappeared and no trace of them was ever found, no blood, no bodies, no nothing. They vanished as if by magic.
The men present at the revelry, including those who were at the window today looking out over the garden, declared that they all fell asleep without realizing it. They came to think it was because of the effect of the herb they consumed, an elite combination brought by one of the women, a recognized herbalist, healer, and half-witch.
The strange thing about the case is that even today their whereabouts were unknown, whether they were alive or not, because they never saw them again.
They decided to unravel the mystery together. They ran down the stairs thinking they recognized one of last year's women.
There was a high-pitched whistle. Albert stopped, his ear hurt. He couldn't move forward because of the pain and Richard kept going as if he were being pulled by a spring.
When he got to the garden, there was no one there. He looked up and there were no stars, only the moon like a tower of serene light, a mistery disc that grew larger with every glance.
At that, he saw a bird crossing the sky and emitting a familiar whistle, as if calling out to others who appeared without waiting, enraptured, he counted them: they were twelve, the same number of women that night. His gaze followed the last bird and he never stopped seeing it.
When Richard was able to reach the garden, there was no one, absolutely no one. Neither the woman nor Abert, only he saw a statue of Robin Hood, among the trees, pointing to him.
Image is from Pixabay:
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