CHAPTER 1:

Once upon a time in the kingdom of Anders, a prince was born without his sense of sight. His brown eyes were glazed over, unable to follow the hands waved in front of his face by his parents and older brother.

“What curse has been laid upon us?” his father, the king, cried. “God in Heaven, please, restore our son's sight. How will he become strong and brave if he cannot see?”

As much as they prayed, their prayers remained unanswered. But their fears were assuaged when the Prince – who they named Blaine – began to grow.

Wherever Blaine wandered, a clicking sound followed and the echoes that bounced off the castle walls steered him to clear pathways. One of the scholars had studied the bats in the forest in his younger years. Catching some, he had learned that they made tiny clicking sounds when they were in unfamiliar territory. The conclusion he drew was that the bats used it to navigate and so, when Blaine was old enough, he taught him how to read the echoes of the castle.

Other compensations were made – a cane was made for him to find clear paths in unfamiliar places and a horse was specially trained to carry him around. After knocking his head on low-hanging branches, Blaine made his own adjustments and attached a fishing pole with bells on the end to the front of his saddle. If the bells jangled and the pole wobbled, he knew to duck his head. It had only failed him once when the wind had blown the bells and the pole around all day long but Blaine was proud of his invention.

His older brother Prince Cooper looked after him at the request of their parents. Much of their time together was spent devising and adapting games for Blaine to play with the other children at Court. Dodge the Ball became Get Hit by the Ball. A new ball was made with a rattle inside it so that Blaine could hear it coming. Cooper heard the sneers and the snivels when Blaine stumbled or fumbled but he just helped his brother up, dusted him off, and kept the game going. No one was going to tell Blaine he couldn't do things – not if Prince Cooper of Anders had anything to say about it.

Blaine grew stronger when he reached his teens, Cooper helping him build up strength in case anything ever happened to him. Cooper tried to teach him to fistfight. He tried to teach Blaine to aim but Cooper found that his brother's flailing technique worked just as well. A blade was fashioned for him but he didn't learn to use it, figuring he would only hurt himself as much as any assailant. But he liked the coolness of the steel and the patterns engraved on the hilt. The goldsmith had written his name in the hilt and Blaine loved the curving script. He was often found running his fingers over it and mouthing out the letters.

In the winter of Blaine's sixteenth year, the king and queen were forced to leave Anders. The king's brother who ruled over the neighbouring kingdom had died and with no heir, Blaine's father was forced to rule in his stead. Cooper became King of Anders and for the first time in his life, Blaine felt alone. With the loneliness came doubt and the doubt bred his insecurity. What would happen when his father became too old to rule? Would Cooper remain King of Anders or would he have to leave? Would Blaine have to become king? How could he be king when he couldn't see? He wouldn't be able to read or write laws. He wouldn't be able to plan battles. And if he ever had a son of his own, there would always be a chance that his son was blind too. Then where would Anders be?

On the eve of his seventeenth birthday, Blaine packed a bag and ordered for his horse to be made ready. Clicking down the hall, he went to his brother's study.

“Cooper, I'm going into the Silver Wood.”

“Why?” Concern filled Cooper's voice and his chair scraped across the stone floor before he laid a warm hand on Blaine's shoulder. “What do you want in there?”

“When we were children, Mother told us marvellous stories of the Silver Wood. She said that it was full of magical creatures that were ruled over by a witch. I want to find the witch she spoke of and see if the witch can heal my eyes.”

“Blaine, your eyes are fine. You have your ways of getting around and the scholars are trying to find a way to teach you to read and write. If there's anything else you need, you know you can always tell me.”

“I know, but I'm afraid,” Blaine explained his fears. He told Cooper of how he worried that one day he would have to rule. “If I ever have to rule, I want to be able to do it by myself. I don't want to be the Blind King of Anders. I just want to be me.”

“Blaine, there'd be nothing wrong with being the Blind King of Anders.”

“That's easy for you to say – you know what I look like. Children can recognise themselves in mirrors but I can't. It's all well and good for me to be able to read echoes and make up games and fit my saddle with contraptions to warn of branches but I want to be able to see. So I'm going into the Silver Wood.”

Cooper embraced his younger brother, squeezing him too tight and patting his back too hard. “Then stay safe. Don't be afraid to come back home if you need to.” Cooper sniffled and Blaine felt wet droplets soak through his shirt onto his shoulder. “I'll miss you.”

“I'll miss you too, brother. Take care.”

Blaine made his way to the stables where he donned his riding cloak and mounted his horse. He ran his fingers over the smooth leather of the reins and the cold wood of the fishing pole attached to the saddle.

“Will you be needing anything else, Prince Blaine?” the stable boy asked.

“No, thank you. I'll be on my way now and when I return, I'll be seeing you.”

The stable boy laughed. “Alright, sir. Whatever you say. Have a safe trip.”

Blaine rode across the main courtyard, the sound of his horse's hooves clopping on the dirt spurring his heart faster. It would be the adventure of a lifetime.

***

The Silver Wood started five miles from the edge of Anders and stretched a further twenty leagues to the south. Blaine had been told that it was filled with millions and millions of silver birches and weeping willows and towering oak trees. When he reached the forest, all he could tell was that some of the branches blew across his path and others didn't. There were not many low-hanging branches that hurt when they touched him but the constant jingling of his fishing pole bells rendered the contraption useless. He hadn't made it a half-mile before he reached up and yanked them off, tossing them down into the dirt.

Sometimes the sun warmed his face and sometimes he heard the babble of a river and sometimes birds sang overhead. Towards the middle of the day, he stopped by the river to eat and found himself being sprinkled with water where he sat. When he had finished his meal of bread and apples, he felt his way across the ground with the cane he carried when travelling. When he hit the water, he moved his left hand upwards and away from himself until it was being showered with water.

“I seem to have found a waterfall,” he murmured. “I shall have to come back here when my sight is restored to see what it looks like.”

Climbing back onto his horse, Blaine continued through the woods. He had no idea where to look for the witch he had heard tell about but he didn't mind the travelling. The more places he searched without success, the more places he knew not to search again.

When it began to cool off and the sun started to warm his cheek rather than the top of his head, he dismounted again. He rolled his bedroll out on the ground, leaves crunching under his weight, and tied his horse to the tree at the foot of his bed. With his saddlebags in his lap, he ate another apple for dinner before he lay down for the night. The air had grown colder and he had begun to drift off when he heard a terrified scream.

He grappled for his cane where he had laid it down beside him before he got to his feet and felt his way around.

“Hello?” he called. “Who's there?”

“Help me!” The voice was high-pitched but it wasn't feminine. Blaine had never heard a voice like it.

“I-I'm afraid I may not be able to. Where are you?”

“The boulder! There's a snake!”

Blaine swallowed, his pulse racing and sweat beading on his forehead. His cane collided with tree trunks and scattered the leaves across the ground but he found no boulders. “How far away are you?”

“I can see you. Be careful. The boulder's right in front of you. The snake – it's coming towards me. Make it stop!”

Blaine leaned forward and reached for the boulder, the stone cold and mossy. “I'm sorry, I can't see. Try to stamp your feet – I don't think snakes like loud noises.” He could hear the person stamping their feet and whimpering.

“It's not working!”

“Try to calm down. The snake is probably afraid of us too. Just try to breathe while I stamp my feet.”

While Blaine stamped his feet and yelled random sounds, he made his way around the boulder until the person latched onto his arm. Their hands were cold and clammy and they smelled dirty.

“You can stop now,” they said. “The snake's gone.” They cleared their throat. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Are you sure the snake's gone? I don't want it to come back and bite one of us.”

“It won't. It can't.”

“Why? Was it a python? I didn't think pythons lived in the forest.”

“It wasn't a python. I um,” they let go of Blaine's arm. “I'm sorry. You don't need to worry about this. I'll just go.”

“No, tell me. I need to know that you're safe.”

There was a silent moment before the person said, “I see things sometimes. Things that aren't there. I think that's what the snake might have been.”

“Oh. I didn't know people could see things that weren't really there. It sounds terrifying.”

“It is,” they said with a sigh. “But what about you? You don't seem to know where to look when you're talking to me.”

“I'm blind, I can't see anything. I never mastered facing someone when they're talking. My father used to say it was rude before he would remember why I did it.”

“That sounds awful.”

“It wasn't so bad. My brother made up for it by not looking at Father when he talked either.”

“What's your name?”

“Blaine.”

“Like the prince?”

Heat rushed into his cheeks. “I am the prince.”

“Oh. Do I need to bow? Or are formalities pointless seeing how you saved me from an imaginary snake?”

“You don't need to bow. I've never liked the bowing. What about you? What's your name?”

“Kurt. I'm from a little town called Hummel on the western border of Anders.” He sighed again. “I came into the Silver Wood looking for someone but I can't seem to find her.”

“I have the same problem. And now I have no idea what direction to go to get back to my horse.”

“Who are you looking for in the Silver Wood? Besides your horse.”

“A witch. My mother used to tell stories about a witch that ruled the Silver Wood.”

“You're looking for the Witch Quinn too?”

“If that's her name then yes.” Blaine bit his lip and twisted his cane around where I stood. “Would you like to come with me? I could, uh, I could really use the help.”

“You don't mind that I see things?”

“You're lucky that you see things. Even if they are terrifying.”

“Hmm, maybe. Alright.” Kurt stepped toward him and grabbed his arm. “Do you know anything about where you left your horse?”

“Only that I tied him to a tree.”

Kurt laughed, the sound clear as a silver spoon against a crystal glass. “We'd better start looking then.”