Hempwood Witch
Half naked, standing at the dead center Heartland and Sun Path, rain sluiced through her red hair braided with ribbons and twigs and slivers of metal. Water flowed down her sopping green robes, the left shoulder nude and exposing cleavage to the round edges of her areola, splashing down on her bare feet, toes covered in mud as though she had risen from the very earth itself. She clutched a birch branch embedded with crystal and fine jewels that gave off a warm glow in the storm's gloom, casting a bluish light on her face.
The storm caught Gnat and myself by surprise, drenching us in its deluge as we sought shelter. We followed the Sun Path, hoping it might lead us to the Sun Blade. Our horses stopped short of the crossroads, shying back and refusing our urgings to press forward.
"Who are you?" I had to shout to be heard over the pounding rain drumming the road and splattering against the tree canopy.
"Someone who knows what you seek." Her voice tingled across the raindrops like the ringing of crystal.
"Witch," I said to Gnat and he nodded his hooded head, eyes concealed but I sensed his fear as he quivered on his horse (Gnats note: I wasn't afraid, just wet, cold and tired... it was his fault we road in the rain, as I warned him that morning of dark clouds on the horizon). "What is it I seek?"
"Knowledge."
I laughed. "Don't all travellers in the rain want knowledge of how to escape the rain?"
"Some seek shelter, others a warm fire," she said, pointing her branch at me. My stomach twisted at the idea of magic being used on me, especially since magic was relatively new to the world returning around the same instance the star fell from the heavens a dozen reapings before my birth. "You desire the Sun."
"Yes," I replied, "if you would kindly step aside we will continue our search for the Sun."
"I know where you may find it."
"Behind the clouds." I muttered to Gnat. He gave me a teeth chattering grin. Never trust a witch, especially one at a crossroads, but I pressed one to humor the woman. "Where, old wise one, is the Sun?"
"Not so hasty." She slapped the butt of the ranch onto the ground. Water no longer sluiced over her, but around her as though she stood in a bubble or cave behind some falls. "First, you must trade me something."
"What?"
"A soul."
The first shovel full of dirt fell.
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Sunday, February 22, 2015
Journal of Hedger Sledge as recorded by his servant Gnat.
Renewal 25 AOH
"Forked paths," my father always said. "Not crossroads. The devil lives in that patch of dirt."
He was right. That witch of Hempwood not only lived at the place where Heartland path intersected Sun path, she dug a ditch for Gnat and me. A ditch deep enough to bury us both. Gnat, my man servant (**Gnat's note: I am not his servant, but his travelling companion whom he treats like a servant**) is no bigger than a horse fly (**Gnat's note: of average height, just look smaller next to this brute**) and just annoying, but myself, well my mother always said I was the size of a moose with the temperament of a bear, and I was always the biggest boy in Meadow-down village. So that ditch had to be plenty big to hold me since I can fit Gnat in my nap sack (**Gnat's note: another embellishment, but you get the point**). We were searching for the Sun Blade, because I am the Hero chosen by the Creator to wield it against the dark one.
How do I know I am the chosen hero? All the signs point to it. Apart from being the tallest, strongest, and need I add, quit handsome in a rugged ranging kind of way (**Gnat's note: he's a farmer's son, a lazy son at that, spending his time trying to catch fish, as told by his father. He still smells like a farmer with a mixture dung and sweaty skin. He hardly shaves that thick black beard so it's hard to tell his hairline from his jaw line. I've seen cats with less hair***), I was born on the night of its forging. As the sword was lifted by the blacksmith's hands from the fire of the deep dark forge, I was ripped from my mother's womb crying out for the Mother. This Mother safeguards the sword until I claim it.
First, I have to find it.
That is where the Hempwood witch enters my story-- the Creator's hand to guide me along my path.
"Forked paths," my father always said. "Not crossroads. The devil lives in that patch of dirt."
He was right. That witch of Hempwood not only lived at the place where Heartland path intersected Sun path, she dug a ditch for Gnat and me. A ditch deep enough to bury us both. Gnat, my man servant (**Gnat's note: I am not his servant, but his travelling companion whom he treats like a servant**) is no bigger than a horse fly (**Gnat's note: of average height, just look smaller next to this brute**) and just annoying, but myself, well my mother always said I was the size of a moose with the temperament of a bear, and I was always the biggest boy in Meadow-down village. So that ditch had to be plenty big to hold me since I can fit Gnat in my nap sack (**Gnat's note: another embellishment, but you get the point**). We were searching for the Sun Blade, because I am the Hero chosen by the Creator to wield it against the dark one.
How do I know I am the chosen hero? All the signs point to it. Apart from being the tallest, strongest, and need I add, quit handsome in a rugged ranging kind of way (**Gnat's note: he's a farmer's son, a lazy son at that, spending his time trying to catch fish, as told by his father. He still smells like a farmer with a mixture dung and sweaty skin. He hardly shaves that thick black beard so it's hard to tell his hairline from his jaw line. I've seen cats with less hair***), I was born on the night of its forging. As the sword was lifted by the blacksmith's hands from the fire of the deep dark forge, I was ripped from my mother's womb crying out for the Mother. This Mother safeguards the sword until I claim it.
First, I have to find it.
That is where the Hempwood witch enters my story-- the Creator's hand to guide me along my path.
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