Satan s Claws

Obsidian is the "Warlock stone." It is not recommended for virgins to wear this stone as a pendant around their neck, and especially not as part of a ring on their finger. For them, and unmarried girls, this gemstone is sure to bring the "crown of celibacy" and have a negative impact on their lives. However, not everyone knows this!

The Lady Shane didn’t know about this either. She was a slender young woman whose beauty could only be compared with the most beautiful flower ever to blossom. She was a Countess from the most ancient and famous Burengem dynasty and was the heiress to the very extensive and fertile Sunny Lands in the Western kingdom. Her castle Bodem was one of the oldest. It may have been ancient, but this did not mar its mighty and majestic interior and exterior. On the contrary, it gave it a special charm, like gray hair adds nobility and loftiness to an old lord.

No less grandiose and enchanting were its gardens and parks, in which, until quite recently a young lady, carefree and happy, with a large number of young ladies-in-waiting, moved around as easily as the breeze. She was the leading beauty in the kingdom, and the beloved daughter of the elderly and rich couple of Burengem, so her parents often arranged magnificent balls in the family castle in her honor. The best songs and poems were dedicated to her by an endless list of admirers. Young men from all over the world gathered in the hope of winning the rebellious heart of this proud beauty.

However, she was too arrogant, inflexible and often overconfident. The girl not only rejected her suitors, but also often derided, and mocked them. Each time, the Countess invented various challenging puzzles for her suitors, and then seeing them discouraged when they came to a loss as to how to proceed, she brutally humiliated them, giving each of them different offensive nicknames, such as, for example: “Mr. Folly”, or “The empty headed Knight”.

Because of her barbed tongue, people used to call her, “The Poison Rose from Bodem”. Nevertheless, despite this, the number of suitors did not decrease.

Suddenly everything changed. One ill-fated day the lady abruptly felt unwell. From that moment, it was as something was slowly drying her body out from the inside, taking away her beauty and strength, and depriving her of all joy and pleasure. The girl locked herself in her chambers, fell into melancholy, lost her appetite and lost all desire to live.

Soon the once blooming face, full of life, became haggard and wrinkled before everyone’s eyes. Her soft snow-white skin became coarse, darkened and rough, just like a common peasant woman. The Countess had grown twenty years older looking in just a few months. No potions, tinctures, elixirs or ointments helped.  Not a single one of the doctors from the many that were invited to give their opinion could give a convincing explanation for such disturbing changes. All as one raised their hands in disbelief, saying: “This is probably a temporary disorder, because we cannot detect any dangerous internal illnesses. Most likely it is a sickness of the soul, not the body.”

At that, it was decided, in the absence of any better bright ideas, to leave Shane alone, because the soul, at that time, was considered too confusing and mysterious, and nobody knew how to deal with it.

Month after month passed by, but she did not improve. A year later, it became quite clear to all that the poor “Rose of Bodem” was fading forever, because she was already so weak that rarely left her bed. Her parents suffered immensely alongside her more than any other. They feared for the life of their beloved daughter so much that in the end came to the only one possible solution that remained:  “If ordinary sorcerers and healers are unable to help, then there is no choice as to turn to magic.”

One day, the most famous witch in the Western states, by the name of Morella, was delivered to the castle to examine the patient. She was an ancient, hunchbacked old woman, who even had lost count of the years. The old woman carefully surveyed the girl with her frightening piercing gaze that immediately fell upon the girl’s ring finger on her left hand, upon which gleamed a gold ring with a large dark stone, which gleamed like a black pearl with a breathtaking silky shine.

“Where did you get this ring, my child,” hissed the shaggy old miracle worker, grabbing the lady’s arm with her bony clawed fingers that resembled the long tentacles of a sea monster.

The Countess sharply jerked her arm away with disdain, showing the cheeky witch a grimace of disgust, and then reluctantly and arrogantly, replied:

“It was a gift.”

Morella, immediately realized the young lady’s squeamish attitude, openly warned:

 “Well then, if you do not want me to touch you, then take the ring off yourself and give it to me. I need to take a closer look.”

“I can’t. I've tried more than once. It cannot be removed. Look at it from there,” she showed it from a distance.

The old woman squinted, peered intently into the gemstone, and then said confidently:

“That is exactly what I was afraid of - whoever gave this to you didn’t wish you well. This gorgeous agate, that so wonderfully decorates the ring on your finger, carries a hidden danger. It has a thousand names: obsidian, Tokay Sapphire, Royal agate, mountain agate, beryl-wasser, muslin or resin stone, jade Montana, or Pechstein stone. Choose yourself how you want to describe your curse. I will say you only one thing that every nation has its own name for it. Yet, in the world of magic, it is called  “Satan’s Claws”, since among us there is an old belief, that  demons deprive girls of their virginity with the help of  their long fingers, using large shining black claws, which will eventually fall away and become precious stones. If at midnight the stones are washed in the blood and bitter tears of a virgin, then later every inadvertent possessor of an obsidian will suffer an incurable illness, and be married forever to celibacy.”

“So how do I get rid of it?” asked the Countess Shane, in a frightened, trembling voice.

“There are two ways, and the first is the easiest - simply cut off the finger, since the ring cannot be removed.”

“Have you gone mad?” the Countess replied, outraged and dissatisfied with the response.

 “Tell me another way, witch.”

“Of course, I will tell you,” said the old woman, and made a long pause, as if to torment her arrogant companion a little longer.

She stared fixedly at the inquisitive sufferer, gave her an unpleasant look and continued to remain silent. Yet, the grim face of the lady was becoming more angry, so she said:               
“The second method is much more difficult and worse.”

“What could be worse than losing a part of my own body? Are you losing your mind, old woman?” screamed the angry Countess, already losing her temper.

Only then, the witch said, with a malicious grin, as if waiting for the angry “fierce beast” within Shane to burst out:

“Certainly, dear, yes. You know better. But firstly we must find the person who presented you with this gift, and then you must surrender yourself to him in the moonlight, and afterwards cover the stone on the ring with your own blood. In this case, the ring will fall from your finger of its own accord. However, that is not all. To finish it, it is imperative to put the ring onto another virgin, so that your curse is passed on to her. Only then will you fully and finally be free and return to your former youth and beauty.”

“Oh my God!” wailed the young lady, slightly lowering her tone, and frightened to death. “How can it be so? It is absolutely impossible!”

“Well, I told you that the first way is much easier,” the witch confirmed once again, savoring every moment of her detailed description. “Just imagine: by severing your own finger, you will immediately be rid of the cursed ring, which would already be sprinkled with your blood. So that all that remains is to present the cursed it to somebody else, for example, to one of your lovely ladies-in-waiting.”

“That doesn’t bother me, you silly old woman! How dare you, you lowlife, suggest that I cripple myself?”  The young lady almost choked with indignation, and her words burst out like a fiery ball from a cannon. But after calming down slightly, and upon reflection, she had a revelation and decided to reveal it. “Where I can I find the man who gave the ring to me? He introduced himself as a pilgrim, and called himself Azorin – a knight of the “Snow Cloud”.  The man charged into my life on a white horse in silver armor and he was madly handsome. He was the first one who managed to make me think that I was passionate about him. While the Knight was staying in our castle, we walked a couple of times together in the shadows of Bodem’s alleys. He even dared to propose to me, but I rejected him as I considered him to be unworthy. Although, at that moment in time I merely wanted to torment him.   

 Azorin was not offended by my rejection and did not get upset, as all the other suitors before him had. On the contrary, standing on one knee and with his hand on his heart, he put this ring on my finger and said: “Remember me for a long time, my beloved.” I do not know why, but at the time, I longed to accept his gift. Still, I do not really understand how it all happened to me.”

“Everything is now crystal clear to me. The matter is even more complicated than I anticipated,” the witch concluded. Down to a lifetime of experience and a quirky mind, she could read between the lines of what she had said. Shaking her gray head with meaning, she nonchalantly and confidently added: “And you, of course, do not know where the Knight came from or where his estates lie.”

“I do not know. Alas, I know nothing about him, but I think that what he did to me is beyond cruel,” complained the injured party.

 “Perhaps, but the truth is that you have no idea who he really was. If he was a sorcerer from the Gray Lands, or a demon from the Afterlife himself, then you have no chance. However, it cannot be excluded that he really was a pilgrim who somewhere along the road bought the cursed ring by accident. Yet, it doesn’t matter what you are guessing, you will not find an answer. It could take a lifetime to find him and sadly yours is coming to its end.”

“What should I do? What's Next?” The poor girl began to cry. She had lost her last hope completely, replacing her hatred and anger with a desperate plea for help.

“I don’t know, really don’t know. I have told you everything that I could. It’s your decision now.”  Morella pulled away from her abruptly, and with these parting words, she took her deserved fee and disappeared.

Lady Shane languished for some time, and could find no peace. Her options were small, because no one knew her innermost secrets (unless you count the witch’s guesswork). In truth, she was that virgin, who gave herself to the silver Knight under the moonlight.

The ring that shone on her ring finger was bathed not in someone else’s blood, but in hers. What's more, the cruel tempter simply disappeared forever after seducing her, as if to say, “So have what you deserve you, ungrateful bitch. This is my act of revenge for all the admirers that you rejected and humiliated. They suffered, and now it’s your turn!”

After all, definitely saying that not everything that glitters is a gem, it should not forget every gemstone has some deep mystery around it, and it is endowed with certain magical powers. For example, proud and cruel obsidian, the Warlock stone, brings its owner so much grief, forever depriving her of the possibility of wearing a wedding ring