Chapter 5: The Witch
The Mystical Forest, Skipton, Yorkshire, England, 1545.
Ranger Oakmoss was settling in for the night. The Crackle had all gathered, the old, the sick, Mothers, warriors and the young. It was almost time for the Crackle to send the children to sleep. A tradition in the Crackle was to relive the ancient stories of the forest. The practice of telling stories was their way of retaining the Wood Sprite history. This was an oral tradition that introduced their legends, relived the stories of their heroes and served to update each other on more recent events. Kormos was an emerging Wood Sprite, he was a born leader and very intelligent. He stepped forward confidently to take his place on the oratory branch. With the Wood Sprites gathered, high within the safety of the tree's top branches, he began.
"My fellow Wood Sprites of the Tamworthia Crackle. I have a disturbing tale, yet one of great importance. The legend states that many winters ago a Black Fox happened upon a frightened young Human woman wandering the forest at night. But this was no ordinary Fox; it was the Black Fox.
A powerful Lord of the underworld had managed to escape the shackles of the evil deep. As he pushed his dark, cold spirit, into our forest, he desperately sought a vessel to house his putrid, sick, and powerful spirit. For this was an old-world Lord, a Lord of darkness with access to ancient knowledge and perverse spells."
Kormos moved to one side noticing a young Wood Sprite, his face bathed in the Moon's light and his attention captured by the story. Kormos returned his fascinated gaze, "Evil!" he shouted, forcing the young Wood Sprite to recoil in horror. "Pure evil; in the form of a spirit. To this day no one knows how he managed to break free and enter our world. The only fact that we know for certain is that he did. As he seeped into our forest, a hapless Black Fox was foraging for food near by. The spirit quickly consumed the Fox, taking his form for eternity. The Black Fox banished all other Foxes from the forest. The Fox dens remain empty to this day. No Fox, of any kind, feels safe entering our forest. The most ferocious form of night beast still defers knowingly to the Black Fox. He's clever, sly and powerful. The beasts fear him; for they know he's a dark Lord, they fear his status." The younger Wood Sprites leaned in, straining to hear the story, fascinated by the powerful Fox.
"It is said, that as the Fox grew more powerful, he found a young Human woman. She was lost and alone. The Fox saved her from the night beasts and gained her trust. The Fox was clever; he mixed an ancient potion, known only in the underworld. He managed to bewitch the girl and she started to transform. Her heart became cold and vengeful. She surrendered her soul over to the dark side. It is said that they can communicate with each other without using words. On the outskirts of the Mystical Forest, near the dirt path is a thick, dense, group of Rowan trees. Rowan trees are ancient trees, but they're a type of Mystical Ash. They use the wind to whisper to each other and can spread news quickly across the forest. If you're gifted, when you mature, you could become a wind reader. Both my Father and I were born wind readers. We can read the whispers from the ancient Rowan."
"What do they say?" asked a young Wood Sprite impatiently.
"They tell us of happenings within the forest. It's mostly normal events. A tree has been damaged, a lightning strike, perhaps an animal falls prey. Occasionally, they tell us of approaching danger, a group of Humans entering the forest. Perhaps an approaching hunting party or a night beast stranded in the daylight. It started a few winters ago, but the trees told us of a strange shadowy figure. It was an old woman, always dressed in a black cape, moving slowly and with purpose, around the forest. We tracked her and soon realized she lived in an abandoned cottage on the fringes of the forest."
Kormos moved his glance towards Ranger; he stepped aside, as a mark of respect, and offered the oratory branch to Ranger to complete the story. Ranger accepted the invitation by stepping up to the oratory branch. "Each passing day, as the Moon rose high, this young woman seemed to grow older. Her figure became hunched and her face withered and wrinkled. The only company she kept within the forest was her protector, the evil Black Fox. The Black Fox's power was getting stronger. He used the woman to gather ingredients to make powerful potions. He taught her how to cast spells. It is said that the Black Fox managed to open a tunnel from the underworld, straight into our forest. The tunnel only opens when the Moon is at its highest point, it floods the forest with marauding Snaggles and other underworld beasts. These despicable beasts have to return to the tunnel before the daylight breaks; the light will scorch them. Their bodies seem to burst into flames, burning in the day's bright light. We've seen this, when Snaggles are killed or when beasts get stranded. Day after day, the Black Fox gained frightening power. Each night he leads the evil forces into battle with the mystical animals. Each night he seems relentless, summoning the great beasts."
Ranger tried to convince the Crackle of how dangerous the Black Fox was. "He has poisoned the mind of this young woman. She's turned into a withered old Witch. She's filled with hatred and evil, she wanders the forest in the daylight and at night. A few Moons ago the Rowan trees started to sway furiously. The whispering Rowan trees told of an advanced hunting party; six heavily armed Humans looking, searching for deer. They stumbled upon the Witch, and her cottage repaired with sticks, mud and thatch. The old woman was stranded, she could not return safely to her cottage. She found herself surrounded by the men. The Black Fox watched from the vantage point of a high rock, safely hidden in the distance. The men laughed at her appearance, they ridiculed the Witch. Annoyed, she reached into her basket and pulled out a small package, wrapped in the wide leaf of a fern. When she opened the folded leaf, a small yellow cloud rose from her palms. She muttered some ancient phrase, based in a long forgotten language. Intrigued, the men stopped laughing. Then they stopped moving; frozen like the surface of a stream on the harshest day of winter. The Rowan reported that she calmly walked to her cottage, leaving the motionless men to the mercy of the night beasts. I won't describe the carnage witnessed that night, for we all wish the little Wood Sprites here, to sleep well tonight. The old woman of the woods has been turned evil by the Black Fox. He's turned a young innocent woman into an old, evil, wretched hag. She's dangerous and she's acquired powers from the Black Fox. She helps him fight for evil. We must hide when we see her, and we must always hide from the Black Fox."
"And they can talk to each other?"
It wasn't acceptable to interrupt the leader of the Wood Sprites when he was on the oratory branch. Ranger glanced at the young Sprite's parents; he received a polite, embarrassed, nod of acknowledgement. The Sprite's parents would correct this rudeness, in private, later that night. Ranger handled the moment of enthusiasm graciously. "Yes, little one, they can talk to each other, but they don't use words. The trees and many a Wood Sprite have seen the two of them communicate, but they don't hear sounds."
Ranger stepped off the branch allowing another to build upon the story. This was the practice of the Crackle. A younger Wood Sprite stepped up. "It's my first time on the oratory branch, and I'm a little nervous. But I have to share my knowledge and add to this. I too have inherited the wind reader gift. I was gathering nuts today on the outskirts of the forest. The Rowan started to sway wildly and the wind was ushered into the trees. I listened to the whispering; the trees were growing concerned. The Witch carried a basket. This was not unusual, as she would often collect items to make her potions and cast her spells. Today she used a powerful powder. She would throw the powder into the air and it would spread out to form a mist, a damp mist. As the mist turned into fog, it would coat the forest, making everything wet. A damp fog spread across the forest floor. The Witch and the Black Fox would scurry around, frantically listening for a distinct sound. I couldn't understand why the Witch was doing this, but the whispering trees were upset. No, they were angry! They made me promise that I would speak tonight, to share this information with you. The Witch was callously collecting the Yellow-bell flower. In our forest, we're fortunate to have the beautiful Yellow-be
ll flower. It is said that we are the only forest left that has this flowering plant. Blue-bells are a common flower, White and Purple-bells too, but Yellow-bells are very rare. We know when a Yellow-bell gets wet, that it rings quietly; like a small bird with a pleasant high-pitched song. The Witch didn't pick the flower; she was pulling up the entire plant by its roots. At the end of each day she would build a small fire and empty the contents of her basket onto the fire. She would burn the plants, destroying them." The Crackle gasped in unison. "The Rowan wanted me to tell you. The Witch is moving through each hollow of the forest, trying to eradicate the Yellow-bells."
Ranger glanced at the elders; they seemed worried but tried not to show it in front of the entire Crackle. No one knew why the Witch was eradicating the Yellow-bells but everyone shared the same concern as the whispering trees. She was practicing evil and this meant trouble for the forest. She had to be stopped. That night the Crackle fell into an uneasy sleep with a worrisome question hanging over their heads. Why was the Witch doing this?
Once the Crackle was settled in, deep within the hollowed-out trucks, the Wood Sprite warriors took their turn guarding their trees. That night seemed busier than others, with numerous beasts prowling the forest floor. The Wood Sprites would shout instructions, as they observed the battle from the safety of their trees. They would plan and coordinate strategy. They would help the Badgers to the safety of their tunnels. They could coordinate attacks and direct the Fairies and other animals to safety. Some Fairies would swarm a Snaggle and bring it down. Wounded Snaggles would become trapped above ground, to face a fiery death as daylight broke. The Badgers were the fiercest of fighters. They could hold their own with the smaller beasts but it took a pack of Badgers to take on a Snaggle. This needed coordination, with six Badgers, all knowing their role. It was risky and many Badgers were lost or badly injured. The Fairies would try to help, using their poisoned arrows. It was a team effort, but each night the beasts kept coming. There seemed to be more beasts flooding the forest each time the Moon rose.
It was Ranger's lookout shift as the battle raged onwards. He took his familiar position, high above a clearing, on an overhanging branch. From his vantage point, he could see all of the clearing, including the entry and exit paths. It was a great place to organize an ambush or provide a warning to the Badgers in the battle below. Tonight saw the return of old one ear. One ear was a Snaggle who loved to fight. He'd lost an ear making him instantly recognizable, but he was mean. This Snaggle preferred to fatally injure the Badger by attacking the stomach. He wanted them to have a slow and painful death. He was undefeated and Belver would always try to seek him out. His reputation as a nasty Snaggle had traveled, and the Badgers really wanted rid of this one. One ear had been fighting and was tired, the blood of Badgers stained his snout and he considered it to be another glorious evening. He stumbled to the clearing; unaware the dense forest had receded. He was alone, tired, exposed and vulnerable. One ear was so tired that he just wanted to go back to the underworld. The night would be over soon and as a loyal soldier he decided to head home.
Acron started the assault. Fifteen Fairies swooped silently from the trees, approaching the Snaggle from the rear. The Fairies drew their bows, with their target in sight. Poisoned arrows pierced the Snaggle's back, piercing the bottom of the spine. One ear felt a small sting and immediately buckled as his back legs folded and his rear-end became paralyzed. He snarled his protest but could not manage to get his rear legs to respond. Badgers appeared from the tunnels, to his left and right. He was outnumbered and injured. One ear let out a roar, hoping that other Snaggles would come to his aid. The Badgers attacked from the sides, trying to approach from the rear. Only one Badger was brave enough to attack from the front; trying to avoid the powerful jaws of the Snaggle. Belver wanted the kill. He tasted revenge for the deaths of his friends, left to die horrible deaths. Belver waited for his moment, with the patience of an experienced fighter. He didn't rush in like the younger Badgers, tearing at the Snaggles motionless backend. He waited for old one ear to whip his jaws to his rear, trying to snap at the pack of Badgers. He came close and missed a young inexperienced Badger by the closest of margins. In this game, you become experienced quickly, or you simply don't.
The Snaggle was distracted, Belver made his move. He ran from the cover of the long grass and leapt forward. Belver clamped his jaws on the great beast's neck, snatching a piece of his throat within his jaws. He felt the warm blood, flow within his mouth, as he fell to the ground. One ear looked surprised; he'd been outsmarted. He knew this was the end. His front legs buckled and now he lay bleeding, motionless within the long grass. Belver barked out an order to retreat; the Badgers backed away. Acron hovered over Belver.
"You got him!" shouted Acron, still gripping his trusty bow.
"He won't make it, I damaged his throat." Belver was still coughing up the foul tasting Snaggle blood from his mouth.
"Fairies, gather with me, we'll finish him," rallied Acron.
"No," shouted Belver, "No, we're going to leave him here."
Acron fluttered closer to Belver, "We can finish off with our arrows."
"No, the Sun will be up very soon. One ear is a particularly nasty beast; he deserves to see the Sun."
Belver had just outlined his request, when the first ray of Sunlight glinted across the flapping wings of the brave Fairy. The two warriors looked at each other and they knew this was the end of a particularly nasty Snaggle.