It took quite some time for Mibbet to consider opening her eyes again after impact, although in all fairness the fact she was conscious enough to consider was somewhat reassuring, but she really didn’t want to open her eyes and find that she was staring at bits of herself, and given that she was now well aware that consciousness did not necessarily end when you shuffled off this mortal coil, so it was maybe not as reassuring as it might have been with the assistance of blissful ignorance.
OK then, she decided she would open her eyes in five.
5 ...... OK guess we’re counting now, hopefully being smart enough to be able to count means my noggin is intact.
4......... Or I’m dead enough for it not to matter if my brain is putty or not, OK best not think about that.
3......... That was a hell of a fall, hope the hat held.
2........... 2 already, only one more and I have to open my eyes, but do I open my eyes on one, or go to one then a second later open them?
1...... Okay then here we go........
Mibbet opened her eyes, to darkness. Not exactly reassuring there, could be she passed out till the night, or got sent downstairs, even upstairs, it wasn’t like she had eyewitness accounts of heaven. Hell she could even have landed through the hatch of somebodies cellar for all she knew.
Well this was both reassuring and worrying at the same time, she just saw a worm crawl past. But for a frog maybe heaven was full of frogs. With a sigh she realised the most plausible explanation, the hat had held and she was now stuck like a be-robed tent peg in the dirt. Lawn darting did seem the more plausible possibility than heaven.
Mibbet tried to yell for help, which definitely confirmed her earlier conclusion as she nearly swallowed a mouthful of muck. If this was how it felt it was no wonder poor Hagatha swore so much. On the plus side she wasn’t dead, and she could safely say she hadn’t accrued any debts likely to lead to premature soul collection. So now all she had to do was hang about and wait for them to find her and dig her out.
Singing ten bluebottles climbing up a wall was out, and it wasn’t like she could just read a book. (Both on account of it being too dark to read, and because she was shoulder deep in the bloody ground, either one was a fairly likely disqualifying factor, but both? Yeah she wasn’t going to be reading for a bit.)
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
It took about half an hour before Mibbet was retrieved from the worlds worst mud bath, but she couldn’t help noticing on being dug out her gear was still as clean as ever.
“Self cleaning robes are kinda a must in this hobby, we made the best we could. Though refreshing the enchantment is something you’ll have to handle yourself Princess, I’m sure a smart girl like you will manage it” Hestia told her, grinning smugly (but clearly not meaning it in a nasty way.)
After that it took a little longer for Mibbet and Hes to retrieve Ol’ Bessie, before they found her lying in a pasture (it suited her,) then the lessons began anew.
Mibbet quickly came to realise something important though, now she had fallen off once her brain seemed to have decided the worst had already happened. She was a lot more confident in her flying from there on out. (Or maybe the adrenaline hadn’t worn off yet and she was burning it to keep going, really either outcome was possible.) She started to take more risks, and go faster, (for a given value of fast, Bessie was an old girl, who was not exactly going to be breaking any air speed records in the foreseeable future, and no matter how eager Mibbet was to pick up the pace Bessie would not be rushed thank you very much.)
On the plus side that did make her the ideal learner broom, as amateurs have a tendency to think things like “Barrel rolls and loop de loops, what a great idea.” While more seasoned flyers tend to think more along the lines of “barrel rolls and loop de loops are bloody expensive on the repairs, and do absolutely sod all but show off. Think I’ll pass unless you are up for paying for a proper re-bristling afterwards.”
Bessie was brilliant at deterring such actions on the simple grounds that it takes a decent PP count to really pull off that showoff crap, and Bessie simply didn’t have that much oomph anymore.
So the lessons picked up, as Mibbet got better and better on the broom (though she still had to get off every few hours, then spent even longer walking like she had a barrel twixt her thighs, anybody who has ever ridden a horse will tell you this is pretty much an occupational hazard among beginners. As is feeling like your backside suddenly gained additional splits. (It hadn’t but Mibbet kept checking back there, you know? Because better safe than sorry when it comes to stuff like that.)
Soon enough she was flying around well enough that Hes started giving her more distance, there were of course a few stunt lessons. (Mibbet loved those,) some two person riding classes, (ROSALIND loved those,) and of course a few falling drills, just in case. (They BOTH hated those.) But it was finally starting to really pay off, and Mibbet was feeling confident that she could handle anything the lessons threw her way now.
Boy was she wrong, as Hes, Hagatha, Song, and Wormy pulled her aside after one of her lessons with the most terrifying news imaginable.
“You’ve been doing really well lately” Hes said, “and so we think you’re ready.”
“Ready for what?” Mibbet asked nervously.
“Well we think it’s about time for you to learn on a proper broom, so we’ll help you finish yours.”