Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden

Maria and The Crag To The Witch's Garden

By:  M.I. Lee  Ongoing
Language: English
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An awkward and unattractive girl Maria Priscilla Bantoc came across an old woman named Helia Baal who owned a mysterious garden at the crag to the north and west of the craggy hill. She also had encountered a strange black riding apparition which first appeared once fateful stormy night when Maria was born. Things had been turning out difficult for the awkward and unattractive Maria, especially after the marriage of Celeste and the betrothal of Petunia, Maria's two sisters. The old witch named Helia Baal had trapped a powerful storm spirit named Elohim Hefasto, the mysterious black riding apparition. Maria had to save Elohim from Helia's entrapment and also save the people living at the craggy hill. However, at the end, Elohim had to choose to become a mortal or return to his home, the spirit world called Mundu.

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bread&butter
i love the narration...
2021-12-15 07:01:24
0
user avatar
bread&butter
lovely storyyyy...
2021-12-15 07:01:12
0
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Tan Jiro Alvez
Nice story! Very detailed narration. this is like a Filipino style of Cinderella story. Great job!
2021-07-28 09:54:15
2
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pearl_belle
nice start, keep going~ is there any social media to discuss your story?
2021-07-23 15:55:29
3
21 Chapters
Chapter 1: Certain as Green Apples - The Bantocs - Sure as fate
                       Not so long ago, in a small fishing town that lied between at the foot of a looming craggy hill of numerous precipices and caves with caverns and a shoreline beside the sea, there lived a good fisherman who became a prosperous merchant and his once-loving wife who became an arguing and scrutinizing mistress as the couple's fortune flourished.               Three daughters they had. The eldest was the prettiest of all their daughters. All set on a perfect heart-shaped face, her deep-set, light brown eyes
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Chapter 2: Maria Priscilla Bantoc - Once fateful stormy night...
                       Benedicto Laom Bantoc was a young fisherman who had very dark short hair and a round face with an arched nose, bright dark brown eyes, and bushy eyebrows. His father Mr. Ernesto Alon Bantoc was a poor fisherman and his family was poor. His mother Mrs. Milia Laom Bantoc gathered edible seaweeds to sell at the fish market. Ben had made a fortune out of fishing. He was an astute fisher and the time being at the age of twenty-five, he had already owned ten lashed-lug wooden plank canoes with riggers on both sides and two large also lashed-lug wooden plank ships. There were thirty fishermen engaged in dragging the line and trawling with his fishing vessels at sea.
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Chapter 3: Yellow Flower Wedding - Part 1
                      “I’m happy Josefina that our eldest daughter is finally going to get married.” Mr. Ben had been talking to his wife Josefina all day on the day of their daughter Celeste's wedding. He approved of anything his daughters would want as long as they would be well received.             “He is a son of grocer— no— well, I hope Celeste would have enough to live with,” Ben and his family had been getting dressed for the wedding.  
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Chapter 4: Yellow Flower Wedding - Part 2
                       The wedding celebration had been a happy affair with laughter and polite stories–––stories of the craggy hill and beyond it–––shared inside the enclosed wedding canopy–––the men in their formal sheer long-sleeved garments, tailcoats, vests, and suits and the women in their best dresses.              “Josie, thank you for the lovely party, dear.”              Macario Balat's wife, Epifania Balat, had been enjoying the nuptial celebration. Josefina and Ben waved and approached the table to where a couple of guests had been seated.              “Good evening, Epifania–– you're looking lovely with your long red dress, dear,” the women exchanged pleasantries and the men shook hands, a friend and an adversary in the trade of angling–– but more surel
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Chapter 5: Helia Baal's Goat-Head Demon Servant
                     “Shoo...pesky little vermin!” said an old woman chasing away a murder of crows huddling all over her garden in the crag. At the front left side of her hut close to her whitewashed and straight spaced picket fence, the pesky loud birds had been munching and uprooting her germinating seeds of gold nugget squash and had scattered it all over the precipice.              “Siegfried!” shouted the old woman, her voice croaky and angry– muttering, “I'm going to eat you whole if you were not a goat-head demon....” She swayed her broomstick of tied up flimsy twigs violently, shaking and clobbering, missing miserably at every crow that flew past and swerved over and near her head. Even more, her broom was not long enough to reach the crows that squawked and flew over in circles around the highest pinnacle of the triangular thatched roof of her little hut made o
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Chapter 6: Forgetting the Rhubarb and Not Giving a Fig - Incidents at the Grocer Shop - Part 1
            A light-hearted spirit and free of affectation, a burst of bright beaming sunshine to herself, Maria treaded alone down the side of the long and wide bituminous-paved thoroughfare traversing the broad and unpaved craggy hill road to the bustling south-east part of the town at the foot of the hillside. A frumpy girl in her shirtwaist ensemble with layers of petticoats, she had been careful not to step out of the curb of the sidewalk to avoid the few passing coaches flogging their horses toward the roadstead to carry anxious passengers in a hurry to get to their employment. Strolling the uncluttered, ample, and shady sidewalk, along the old-fashioned kerosene lampposts, and the rows of delightful little shops with some dwarfed, nitid green and coriaceous weeping figs and fragrant and colorful geraniums or storksbills in large terracotta pots placed at the edge of the walkway, and with ornate door and high rainbow-colored window awnings
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Chapter 7: Forgetting the Rhubarb and Not Giving a Fig - Incidents at the Grocer Shop - Part 2
                       “Forgive me, Nicola– I'd be– are we now okay?” begged Maria and relieved that Nicola had reconsidered to take the available merchandise.               “Yes– your sister said to be quick with you– have you got more to do?” said the shop attendant, glad that her fourberie not yet done had been ignored by the idiotic homely girl.               “Mother asked me to get some oranges, would you mind me picking some fresh ones?” asked Maria.               “No– the oranges are at the front,” answered Nicola back sharply over Maria's remark.               “I'd be– thank you–,” blu
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Chapter 8: Forgetting the Rhubarb and Not Giving a Fig - Incidents at the Grocer Shop - Part 3 (Final Part of Incidents at The Grocer Shop)
             “I didn’t do it,” mumbled Maria, low and confused, cares to the hot air that had filled her in her lungs.  Smoke rose from her nostrils.  She rubbed and blew her nose against her forearm.  The inner and outer canthi of her eyes bursting up with water and cool salty tears streamed down.  Last night, a very upset Celeste had reprehended their mother, Josefina.              “Someone – our cashier – saw her,” cried Celeste, believing Nicola’s side of the story.              “Lord Jesus!  She was normal when she got home this morning!” observed Josefina.  They were in the Bantoc’s open, light, and airy living room.  Celeste in her peachy shirtwaist garment had been resting her buttocks on their family’s thickly padded homey nuptial couch with laidback floral tapestry covering.  Her legs had be
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Chapter 9: The Census and the Sandburs - Part 1
              The town-head and his council had conducted a census around the craggy hill area.  They had completed the survey and had been issuing and posting census stickers on the houses of the craggy hill’s inhabitants.               Census of Housing and Population, Leopoldo Surambaw’s census reports:                                                         The Craggy Hill is an island situated at the northeastern part.  It has a total land area of 98,000 hectares and is estimated to have 148,000 inhabitants of which 45% are natives or pure locals, 15% are half-bloods and 40% are settlers.  An average of abou
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Chapter 10: The Census and the Sandburs- Part 2 (Final Part of The Census and the Sandburs)
             “More agronomists.  Agriculture is thriving,” said the town-head, Leopoldo, when his census supervisors had settled down laughing.               “I agree, can’t depend just by fishing, no–?” approved Ben to the town attracting more planters.  Mr. and Mrs. Bantoc loosened up with the town council’s explanation, trusting their duty in the town.               Creak! And Bang!  The sound of a shutting spring door-stop echoed at the rooms adjoining the common sitting space and the kitchen.  The people in the living room paid no attention but their shoulders shuddered briefly and continued chatting, except for Josefina who gave her awkward daughter a heads-up and a passing warning glance to keep the noise down.  “Yes, mother,” said Maria, dim
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