Once upon a time there was a little girl. Though her dress and shoes and hair were plain, her face was stunning. Her round cheeks were topped with a widow's peak and bottomed with a dainty chin which gave her face the appearance of a heart. She had smooth, dark, unblemished skin. A small nose pointed up a little at the end and sat between two large, almond shaped eyes. Her long eye lashes did little to hide the bright green irises that seemed to penetrate wherever they looked. Today though, her full lips were tight in stress. She had run away from the church in which she was raised. Well, more so she was thrown out. All she knew was that there was no way back.

She wandered away wondering. Her parents were unknown to her and the church where she was dropped off. How did she know she was of low-birth? Why, she thought quietly to herself, I could be a princess! The idea excited her, but how in the worlds would she find out? Again, her lips tightened. The only way would be to ask the King, who would never speak to such a person as her. She sighed and sat on a large stump just off the road.

“HEY!” The stump shouted. The little girl threw herself off and onto the grass, screaming in fear. The brown, knobby old stump was alive! When she looked closer she saw the face of an old man. He had a big nose formed from three large knobs and an even bigger mouth which opened wide to show thorns for teeth. The little girl scrambled to back away, but the stump opened his large eyes. They seemed to be made of living sap- translucent brown and a core of swirling red. The little girl rubbed her eyes in disbelief and opened them once more. The stump was still alive.

“I'm sorry... I just...” She stumbled over her words.

“Stop your whining. Your fear is enough of an apology,” The stump laughed. “I've grown so weak since they chopped my leaves off.” He sighed. “I sleep day and night and one day I will not awake at all. But you woke me little one.” His eyes swirled. “How?”

“I don't... I don't know, sir...” The little girl stood up and dusted the grass off her dress. “I just sat and...”

“And I know the rest,” He sighed. “I already know that you desire a seat and I've taken that away. Is there anything else that I can give you?”

“How could you give me anything?” She asked, her green eyes widening. “You're just a stump. You can't move. You can barely stay awake.”

“Aye, but I've lived for hundreds of your lifetimes, little child. What you lack is what I may give.”

“A home? Food? A family?”

“Answers to deep questions. Answers that others spend their lives pondering. For you, little green eyes, I shall grant one answer.” It seemed to her that the thorns formed a smile.

“Can you tell me if I'm a princess?” She asked. It was the first thing she could think of, and immediately regretted it. She could have asked the answer of how to make gold from scratch, or where the dragons came from, or if the god in her former church was really true. She felt so weak-minded she set to remind herself a punch later.

“No.” The stump said bluntly. “You're not of noble birth. I can tell you that.” He closed his large eyes and his large mouth and fell asleep. The little girl's heart sank, even though she expected this answer. She put her arms around herself and began to walk back towards the road. A storm was approaching and lightning was flashing on the distant mountains. Her black curls shielded her face from plains beside her.

“WAIT!” The stump roared. “You're a witch, girl. You're a little witch. Be proud of it.” She jerked back and saw the swirling eyes of the stump, moving so fast and reflecting the lightning ahead. It frightened her, so the little girl ran. The stump cackled behind her.

She ran until she found a large mound. The moss covered a large boulder and tucked away a small opening underneath. She slid down into it and put her knees up to her chest. The rain had soaked her through but it had stopped now. The clouds were breaking up and showing the stars in the night. The little girl began to cry. Not only was she not a princess, but she was the most despised type of person in the worlds.

Tears ran down her cheeks- then dripped off. She watched in surprise as they surrounded her, dancing around her face. Quickly, she held out her hands, afraid that they would fall. The tears imploded into a speck, then exploded into a thousand tiny snowflakes. The flakes piled in her hand. The little girl sat amazed and scared, holding the cold little pile of snow that did not melt. She placed it next to her on the ground and stared at it as it glowed in the moonlight. When she awoke the next morning, it was still there. She put it in her pocket and traveled to a village a few leagues away.

She went to the village center and looked around. A few people had gathered, but most of them looked busy.

“Please, listen!” She called out in an unintentionally squeaky voice. “I am...”

“-a princess, little girl?” An old man smiled at her strangely. She cringed away.

“T'at a'int no princess.” A hard, middle aged woman announced. “She's not dressed as one. Look at her shoes and the mud on 'at dress. She's a kitchen wench somewheras.”

“NO!” She shouted, as loud as she could. “I'm a witch!” A smile made her lips look to their full potential, but even her beauty could not sway these people.

“We've no need for that sort here.” A new man glared down. She tried her hardest not to shrink away.

“But I have powers! I can help you in some way... I know I can... Please! Give me a chance!” She pleaded.

“Show us your powers, little witch.” The hard woman glared. The little girl clutched her dress. Everyone shouting was making her afraid again. She found tears rolling down her cheeks. They floated off her face and formed a circle around her. They imploded once more, but this time, when they exploded, they turned to a thousand pieces of dust. The little girl found her feet numb as the people shouted at her.

“We don't need no dust!”

“Little witch needs to die!”

“Get out, witch!”

She ran away again, but this time, she was knocked down by someone throwing a broom at her.

“Use this to clean up the dust you make!” The old man shouted at her. She grabbed it and ran away.

The next village was close. She was grateful for the shelter that an old blind woman provided for her in her barn. She did not tell her about her powers. Because of the old woman's reaction to her, she felt that this village must be nicer than the last. Soon after the day began, the little girl strolled to the center of the street. People were taking their sheep past her and children were screaming as they played. She cleared her throat, then looked up.

“Please! I am a witch! But I am good, and I can help you!” She pleaded once more. The people stopped. Their polite faces turned. Even the children stared at her in fear and anger.

“We don't need any more of your sort here,” the old woman said. “We had enough anguish from magic. Leave us.”

“But please!” She cried. More tears were welling in her eyes. This woman who took her in, couldn't she see that she was good? That she wouldn't hurt them?

“No.” A man shouted at her.

“Give her a chance. Perhaps she is good.” The old woman said. “She did not kill me where I slept last night, maybe she may help us so...”

“What can you do, witch?” A young, busty looking woman with yellow scars all over her face asked.

“I'm not sure... but I want to help... I...” She took the broom she had from the other village. Putting her leg over, she mounted it. Before she could gasp a breath, it took off. She flew around the village. The wind flew through her hair and she let out a small laugh. Grabbing the handle, she flew it back down.

“Get out now girl, before you get hurt.” The woman said. She had a blood-lust in her eyes.

“NOW!” A child shouted, “NOW WITCH, NOW!” LEAVE WITCH!”

The tears welled in her eyes again, but she let none fall. She went to get back on her broom when someone threw an old hat to her.

“To keep your head out of the cold on that broom,” The old woman said, turning her back to her.

The little girl put on the hat, got on her broom, and rode away. There were no more villages this way she knew. But the mountain stood before her. She flew there faster than she could have ever run. The wind ran through her hair but also took her breath away. In the distance was the King's castle, nestled along the mountain's side.

When her fingers went numb with cold, she flew down to a small clearing. There, she could see both villages and the distant hills from which she came. The breath left her chest. The world was finally beautiful from here. While she was squinting to see if she could make out the stump, a hand touched her shoulder. She jumped back, but did not scream.

“Hello, little one.” The King said. He was a few dozen feet away from his horse and his mounted guard. He smiled down on her with a gentle face. His eyes were slanted and his black hair crowned his cheek just as the golden crown sat on his head. Around his shoulders sat a heavy blue sash that complimented his cream colored uniform.

“Hello,” She replied warily. Never before have she met anyone noble, and here before her stood the noblest man in the worlds.

“How did you get here? On this?” The King asked with his eyes to touch the broom, which the little girl graciously handed him. He knelt and touched it, inspected it, and saw nothing but a common broom. He then looked at the little girl again and saw the old, threadbare hat. “Are a witch? Don't lie to me, little one. I won't hurt you.”

“The stump told me I was one and now the world hates me!... I'm sorry, I mean, your highness...” She trailed off, too afraid to look at him.

“The world should never hate such a special one as you.” He said with a serious tone in his voice. His eyes betrayed his patience, though he tried to hide his anger down at the broom. He took a deep breath and looked at her even with her eyes. “My dear girl, if I may ask you name, I would be pleased if you would honor me with your company. I wish to take you back to my castle and raise you to your full potential.”

“My King,” She bowed low, “I would be honored. My name is Helen. Please forgive my manners, I've never met someone as wonderful and kind as you.” She could feel the tears gathering in her eyes. This time, she cried tears of happiness. The floated from her face and surrounded her and the king. Once more, they imploded into specks, then exploded into a tiny thousand pieces. When the pieces fell to her and the King's hands, they found a pile of gold dust in their fingers. She looked up at the King, who smiled back at her.

“You are beautiful, and powerful, Helen. Sometimes the most powerful parts of us are hated by others, even though that is what makes us special. Be brave, for we have a long road ahead. But always remember,” He took her hand and put the gold dust he collected in it, “...you determine your own value.”