The Witch's Lagoon Analysis

As most tragedies do, Prince Eric’s tale started with a promise. This was a promise he made to himself, one of ignorance and arrogance and above all, lust. After all, it wasn’t more than a day ago that Eric had nearly drowned in the sea during a violent storm. He should have been dead. How he was alive was a mystery, and Eric was tired of mysteries. Mysteries are what brought him here–to the outskirts of the village in the Witch’s Lagoon.
The murky room with all its contents felt more like a cage than a shop. Hardly an inch of the walls were visible from under layers of illustrations of grotesque, fishy figures Eric refused to look at. When he did, he couldn’t help but feel as if they looked back. The swaying flames from hundreds of candles provided little light and little warmth, causing Eric to shiver as the slashes in the roof welcomed in the cold night breeze. The hazardous state of the Witch’s Lagoon and the fact it wasn’t a real store should have prompted its closure, but no one dared upset the shop’s owner. If there was anything more intimidating, more terrifying than the Witch’s Lagoon itself, it was the hag who owned it. Her name, a name that all villagers feared, was Madam Ursula. Now, she circled Eric like a shark. A short woman, her skin clung to
He swallowed hard as she grinned again, uglier than the first time. Before he could exhale, she grabbed Eric’s wrist and her too-long nails bore into his skin. He didn’t bother complaining as she forced him to the other side of the shop. There, bottle upon bottle of frothy liquids were displayed along a shelf. Their salty odor was overwhelming. Ursula eyed them all until she found a tall blue vial and released Eric to rip its cork out. Where her grip was, Eric noticed a sharp sting and pricking ruby-red blood. Some of it dripped from Ursula’s nail and plopped into the vial, instantly making it fizzle and