Pryor's Hill (solo)

[Dracosius]

From atop the nameless hill, Pryor looked out over the green fields. The long grass undulated gently in the breeze like waves on the ocean. The sweet scent of summer filled the air and above him the sky was perfectly clear. He inhaled deeply, appreciating the natural beauty around him. About a half mile behind him loomed the edge of the dark jungle. He'd been cautioned against being so close to it, but he wasn't worried. The natives only bothered those that dared to intrude upon their domain. This hill was not actually in the jungle. Since it wasn't in the jungle, there was no need to fuss.

“Pryor!”

He turned at the sound of his name carrying up the hill. He looked toward the source and his eyes brightened a bit at the sight of his lovely wife. She waved as she slowly worked her way up the hill. It was not an easy climb at five months pregnant, but she wanted to see this view that had sold her husband about purchasing this land. Pryor hurried down to meet her and helped her the rest of the way up the hill.

“Isn't it beautiful, Melody?”

Melody looked around and nodded. It was indeed beautiful, but the jungle worried her. All her life she'd been told never to go anywhere near it. The natives would be all too happy to kill her just for looking at it if she got too close. Now that they would be living a scarce half mile away from the edge, the stories came back to her. However, Pryor would not hear of looking elsewhere and she'd given up trying to convince him.

“Are you absolutely certain, Pryor? The jungle is so close...”

The tall man put his arms around his wife, holding her close. “It's fine. We're not going to bother them by being on a hill. They have no need to come this far out from their precious jungle. We'll be fine, I promise.”

His wife sighed and relented. She still wasn't sure, but she knew how fruitless it would be to continue trying to change her husband's mind.

Over the next two months, Pryor and several of his friends built a sturdy home. In due time, Melody gave birth to their firstborn son. They named him Michael and all was well in their world.

Now just a little ways inside the jungle's border there lived a native woman. She had no tribe, for she'd been cast out for the practice of witchcraft and other dark arts. She watched the home being built on the hill with some interest. There were not many who were brave enough to walk so close to the jungle, let alone live within sight of it.

One day she decided to investigate exactly what had been built and the kind of people that lived there. She used her magic to transform herself into a songbird and flew up to the cabin. She darted here and there, observing the man Pryor at work as he worked. He was currently giving Melody's best kitchen knife a new edge. With his sleeves rolled back and the sweat glistening on his brow, the witch noticed that he was quite handsome. It was in that moment that she decided that he would be hers.

She flew back to her hovel and returned to her proper form. The man's wife was pretty and he seemingly adored her. She grinned maliciously, Pretty, but not beautiful. It should be little trouble to turn his head. After all, he need not leave his wife and son entirely.

Due to the small family growing nearly everything they needed, it was several more months before the witch had a chance to catch Pryor alone. The day finally came when Melody took Michael, who was beginning to pull himself up on furniture and use it for a walking aid, into Nadai to do a little shopping and to visit his grandparents. Pryor had some work to do on the house, so he kissed his family goodbye. When they were gone, he got to work, humming softly to himself as did his chores.

Using her magic, the witch again changed her appearance. This time she transformed herself into a beautiful woman. She made her way up the hill and sought out Pryor.

“Good morning,” she purred at him as she took a seat. The short dress she wore rose tantalizingly up her thigh, revealing most of her leg, as she crossed her legs at the knee.

Pryor stopped, more than a little confused, at the sudden appearance of this woman. “Hello,” he answered cautiously, “who are you?”

“Me? I'm Saraphina.”

“Well, Saraphina, I don't know where you came from, but the nearest village is about three miles that way,” he told, pointing northeast.

“I wasn't asking for directions, Pryor,” she said as she stood and approached him. “I've come to see you.”

Pryor stuttered, “Um.. uh.. m-me? Now look, lady, you really should be going. I've got a lot to do around here, and you're just going to be in the way.”

The witch laughed and caressed his face with her hand, “Oh come, aren't I beautiful? I know what men like. I can please like no one else can.”

Pryor nervously pulled her hand away from his face and backed away. “You need to go. My wife will be back soon.”

“She only just left,” the witch reminded him, “she need never know. We'll keep this a secret. Just the two of us.”

Now Pryor was not always the strongest man, neither was he the smartest. But he was loyal to a fault and he never lied. The mere suggestion that he could betray his wedding vows angered him greatly. Until now, he'd been cordial and civil. After all, there was rarely a need to be rude. His voice flattened as he repeated his earlier statement.

“You need to go. Now. Don't come back. I'm a happily married man and nothing you offer will change that. Go play your tricks on someone else.”

Sensing that she would not succeed with this form, the witch huffily left the hilltop home. If he was going to be so loyal to his wife, then the simple solution was to remove the wife. Clearly, Melody being away from home was not sufficient to get Pryor to come to her. In that case, the wife would simply have to die.