“Useless brat,” The Witch mumbled and turned to leave. Mannat reacted fast. He rushed forward and held her stick with one hand.

“NO!” He glared at her with red eyes. They were ready to pop out of the socket. He couldn’t let her leave. He didn’t want to imagine the effect of her turning away. “You have to help her,”

“Let go,” She said, “Or I’ll make you do it.”

Mannat believed her. He released the stick and the Witch turned to leave again.

“I’ll do anything,” He mumbled behind her back. “Whatever you say -- I’ll do anything to save my mother.”

The Witch stopped walking. “…anything?” She said without looking back. Mannat heard joy in her voice. Perhaps, it was hunger or the smacking of her lips. He didn’t care.

“Yes,” He replied solemnly.

She turned back. There was madness in her eyes and a smile on her face that spread from ear to ear. She raised her stick in the air and asked him one last time. “Are you sure?”

Mannat rubbed his eyes on his shoulder and intently, he stared back at her intently. He would have no remorse.

The Witch cackled aloud and struck her walking stick back into the garden dirt. That… was unexpected, much like everything else up to that point had been.

Was something supposed to happen? The thought hadn’t even registered in his mind when something happened. The knob head of the stick glowed, and Mannat sensed a wave passing by, bringing a minute change to their surroundings.

The scenery changed a little bit. The air grew fresher and livelier, and a ruckus of insects filled his ears. The vegetables in the garden turned even more vibrant and colorful. Even though it was dark out, he noticed seven different colored capsicums growing on the same plant, right next to large watermelons. He could even make out the pumpkins on the far edge of the garden.

As for the Witch —she retained the hunch, but the glow on her wrinkled face was unmistakable. She had definitely grown younger, or regained some vitality? How was this possible? It was a change too dramatic to be normal.

Finally, the knobbed head of her walking stick stopped glowing and she set her eyes upon Mannat. He saw madness in them. However, that was not all. Something, an urgent need asked him to look out for Pandit, and to his horror, he found his friend collapsed at the hut’s door.

Something clicked in Mannat’s head. He turned. Faced the Witch and got on his haunches. “What did you do?” He asked plainly, ready to pounce at the old hag if she failed to answer. The consequences could all go to hell!

“What do you think I did?” The witch smirked. Not cackled. Her black lips spread thin from ear to ear. She looked diabolical in the foggy light.

Mannat had no answer, and the Witch didn’t wait for one either.

She plodded through his thoughts. “I didn’t do anything new.” She said with her thin, grainy voice. “Already forgot our last meeting did you? Well, I expected nothing more from someone who couldn’t take a hint when it was given to him at his face.”

That wasn’t right.

“He was clearly all right just a moment ago?” Mannat said suspiciously.

“Was he really?” Mannat almost heard her cackle. She was playing with him. “You would have seen him plop to the ground like bird shit had you practiced your mana sense. Really, it has almost been a decade since you got the skill, and you are still kicking it around like it something useless. How stupid are you?”

“What has that got to do with this?”

“Everything!” The Witch said and cackled out loud like a raven, scaring the sleeping birds awake. The sky above the clearing saw a group of birds flying away.

Mannat turned toward the hut and started down the road, but the thought of leaving his mother alone with the Witch… NO! He couldn’t. But his friend — what about Pandit? He couldn’t just leave him alone there! He had to go help him.

Making his mind, Mannat hurried back and jumped into the cart. He put his arms under Noor’s armpits, and carefully dragged her to the edge of the cart. Then he jumped down and hefted her up into his arms. He pulled her close to his chest and carried her toward the path leading to the hut. Noor was still cold to the touch. And she weighed less than a feather. He blinked the tear hampering his sight, and it rolled down his cheek. His father was right. The Witch —she wasn’t one to be trusted with the weight of a life.

The Witch simply watched. She didn’t stop him, or try to, didn’t even laugh at his misery, only stood there on the other side of the fence and kept her red eyes upon him, lauding herself for getting Mannat close to the tree.

Bhadur neighed made him stop. Mannat asked him to return, to go back and save himself, but the horse refused to budge. Even pushing him didn’t achieve anything. “Just Go. GO! Why don’t you understand?” Mannat yelled out the emotions bubbling inside him; while opposite to him, Bhadur stood calm and composed. The Witch didn’t seem to affect the horse —yet he refrained from going any further. He didn’t paw the ground in resentment or kick up in fear, simply pushed Mannat forward by throwing his head into his chest. Telling him to go, he’d wait for him.

Mannat gritted his teeth. He bid farewell to Bhadur and carried Noor down the path leading to the hut.

He remained vigilant of his surroundings. His sleeping senses buzzed awake as he approached the glowing tree. Its rainbow pink glow wasn’t blinding even from up close. Yet, it was strong enough to cover the whole clearing. He could stare right at its glowing leaves without needing to shade his eyes. But there was something wrong with it. He could sense it with his body.

He clutched his mother tighter to stop his arms from shaking. He had difficulty breathing around the tree and found his thoughts scrambling. He almost forgot what he was doing there for one second before he saw the house and managed to piece together his mission. He didn’t look back after that.

He was like a moth attracted to light, but one that got away. Something broke in his mind the moment he got past the tree. A connection came loose, and all the overbearing feelings disappeared along with it. There was dizziness associated with the detachment, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. He checked his mother for any sign of foul play and followed Pandit’s disoriented footsteps to the hut. It seems the tree hadn’t played tricks with him alone. From the looks of it, his friend might have taken the worst of it.

He dragged his feet through the damp grass, getting his legs wet. He could smell the damp in the air. That was a good sign. It meant his senses were slowly returning. Suddenly, he remembered his first conversation with the Witch. Did she really have a raven? Did it look as bleak and horrifying as the rumors said? He had to shake his head to clear his mind, and it helped.

Anyway, his vision stopped swimming when he reached the hut, and he finally saw Pandit from up close. The boy lay with his face down, legs apart and arms spread eagle. It would be wrong to say that he didn’t think Pandit was dead for a moment, and the fear he felt then was indescribable.

His mind went completely blank before he heard Pandit breathing. Rejuvenated, he carefully laid his mother down and checked his friend. Pandit was alive and safe. There was nothing wrong with him. He was unconscious and no amount of shaking or yelling could wake him up.

The Witch’s cackle rang in the clearing again when he was done. She was messing with him.

What now? He feared for Pandit’s safety, but his friend wasn’t really hurt. He would have nothing to do with the Witch if anything happened to him…

Who was he kidding?

He would walk on fire to save his mother. Maybe he would also burn his friend. His heart twanged in response to the thought.

“So are you ready to follow me now?”

The Witch’s shrill voice pierced past his inhibitions and got his attention before he could give more food to the thought. He couldn’t answer. It was suddenly too much for him to bear. The headache was minimal, but its effect wasn’t.

“You must think I am stupid.” Mannat bit his lips. “I wouldn’t follow you from a distance!”

The Witch snorted. “Not bad of a retort for a pot scum. But I know you are an inexperienced stupid rat. And you will follow me. After all, you want to save your mother, don’t you?”

Speaking the words she turned around and started walking. She walked without putting any weight on the stick, kind of like hovering over the earth. It was an odd detail, but Mannat didn’t miss it.

Could he leave? Could he go back? “Can you really help my mother?” Mannat asked. His voice was shaking, and so were his eyes. He was tense. His legs were stiff and his back ached. He was panicking inside. The worst thing was that the Witch knew.

“Follow me and find out.” The Witch said without stopping.

His heart thumped inside his chest. Was this it? He created so much noise, but where were the echo and the answers? He was afraid of her, but he was still going to do what the Witch asked him. Mannat felt out of his depths.

However, for some inexplicable reason, following her came easier to him than going against had been. His mother felt much lighter again in his arms. He hadn’t acknowledged how tightly he had been hugging her. No wonder he was shaking like a leaf blown away by an erratic and free, chilling gust of wind. Was it also her doing? He had to say, no matter how eccentric, scary, and nagging, the Witch was both smatter and more confident than him. She induced helplessness inside him; it was not a feeling he liked.

Like right now. Her house was behind him and she was walking away.

She didn’t stop for him, or even saw if he was following her, but kept walking until she reached the tree. There she finally stopped. She didn’t look for him, confident that he would follow her. He followed her even though he had a bad feeling about the decision. The binding came again as he approached the tree, but this time it was much finer and easier to deal with. He could almost ignore it, almost, as he could still feel it in the back of his mind.

“What took you so long, kid?” The Witch said when he reached her. “I have been waiting for years. Didn’t I tell you a long time ago that you are not supposed to become a blacksmith?”

“But I became one.”

“Well, you were a stubborn little shit even then. Of course, you couldn’t let fate fuck with you. Isn’t that right?”

Mannat couldn’t answer and the Witch continued, her voice growing solemn.

“But you can’t fight fate. Even your friend became what he was supposed to become, a ruthless hunter.” Mannat’s eyes opened wide. He was not impressed, but the Witch was not interested in what he thought of her. “You fought fate, but look where we are. Now step back. And get ready—”

“…for what?” Mannat couldn’t discern the Witch’s intention. Still interested, he watched as the old hag easily hefted her walking stick above the head, and stabbed it into the ground with such force the ground gave away without much resistance. It helped that the soil was loose as if it had been disturbed before.

His hair stood straight. She was doing it again.

What was it this time? Mannat had just thought when another group of birds took to the sky above the clearing.

Then suddenly wind started blowing and the glowing leaves created a ruckus. Mannat was yet to wrap his head around it when the knobbed head of the stick started glowing. It sent a vibrant ring of blue light into the ground and in response, the ground shook.

A quake followed.

The tree creaked, and roots dug out of the ground.

There were so many of them!

Like dark black worms exploding out of an infected limb, they whipped, stabbed, and protruded out of the ground. A dark hole opened behind them.

Was it a real sight? Mannat squinted and rubbed his eyes. He wasn’t hallucinating, was he? He wasn’t sure. The witch stood too close to him for his comfort. She could have done any number of things to him. He would have run if his senses weren’t telling him to believe his eyes. It was the truth, the reality, not a fiction of his mind. There really was a pit under the tree.

“What in the world…” He could not believe it.

“Come,” The witch beckoned him to follow her. She left the stick behind and started walking. So she really didn’t need it, after all. No! He was thinking about the wrong things. Focus!

Stairs made of compressed dirt led down the pit. Mannat was vigilant, yet careful carried his mother down them. He found light at the bottom of the stairs, which changed colors every second from pink to yellow and orange, and back to pink again. Rainbow prisms blinded him until his eyes adjusted to the changing light.

The space beyond the stairs was as large as a room, and covered in flowers. Orchid vines hung from the ceiling. Dandelions and lilies grew on the floor. The walls were covered in green algae growth. However, what surprised Mannat the most was the glowing roots penetrating the ceiling and walls, forming a large bulb in the center of the room. The Witch was standing in front of it. Inside the bulb lay a naked woman in the fetal position, like a baby waiting to be born. She was glowing with a soft blue light.

The woman, was the most beautiful living thing Mannat had ever seen. So white and slender, she looked like a cloud. He couldn’t believe his eyes. There was not a hint of hair on her boy except on her head. Maybe it was her sharp features, or the peaceful look on her face, whatever the case, his heart throated at the sight of her. She evoked pity in him. She looked so peaceful, and cold, almost... Almost like my mother.

“Are you going to keep standing there all night like a boar, or are you going to come closer?” The Witch said calmly and broke Mannat free from the trance. He finally realized that he had been standing still at the entrance.

His eyes opened wide. “Who is she?” Mannat asked, getting closer to the Witch.

“She… is the Flower of Morality.” The Witch said, politely. So quiet, Mannat forgot he was talking to the Witch for a second.

“She’s alive?”

“Do flowers die?” The Witch instantly snapped back with hostility, and he decided to change the topic. The woman was interesting, but not as important as his mother.

“Is she also suffering from the same illness as my mother?”

“No, but you are not far off either. She touched something she shouldn’t have, and now it’s eating her from the inside.”

“Can I ask you what it is?”

“Want to know everything for free don’t you?” The Witch raised a hand to interrupt him when he tried to explain. “Get the job if you want answers.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Was she being sarcastic? The system had clearly told him that he didn’t meet the requirements. Was she giving him a chance?

“So why are we here?” He asked. His heart was thumping in the chest and anxiety rolling down his brows in the form of sweat.

“Finally, we are getting somewhere. To think a dumb boy like you are the smartest person in the village.” The Witch babbled, making Mannat’s lips twitch. “Take your mother closer and lay her on the grass bed below the orb.”

It was like a pattern with her. She had to say something demeaning before answering the question. As if helping others made her stomach hurt or something.

Mannat was hesitant, but he followed through. What choice did he have?

Laying his mother on the grass beside the roots below the Bulb, he pushed away the hair covering her face. He sat beside her, staring at her face until the Witch yelled at him to get back. He planted a kiss on Noor’s cheek and stood back up. It was only when he returned to the Witch’s side that he realized how numbs his arms were from carrying his mother. He had been so tense! Finally, blood was rushing back into his arms, and the numbness was giving way to pain and jitters.

“What now?” He asked, furiously rubbing his hands together. His stimulating nerves felt like pins were prickling them.

“Watch,” The Witch said.

Mannat watched as a few thin tendrils separated from the thick braid of roots penetrating the ground.

They smelled their way toward Noor’s body and touched her skin. He watched first in anticipation, and then in horror when the tendrils stopped all motion, and then haphazardly drilled into Noor’s arms and chest.

“NO,” he screamed and jumped forward, but the Witch put an arm in his away and stopped him. He glared at her, but she was calm unlike him. More and more of the thinner tendrils pressed into Noor’s body as the seconds passed. “Stop it,” he shouted.

“Are you sure, brat?” The Witch asked with a confident, yet scrutinizing smile on her face.

Her calmness made him think. She might be crazy, but she wasn’t unreasonable. Everything suggested that things were still under control. The roots, they were indeed penetrating under Noor’s skin, but there was neither a wound nor blood. It was as if the roots had assimilated with his mother’s body, and becoming one with her.

The roots pressed further into his mother’s limbs, but there was no physical evidence of it. Her body showed no reaction to the phenomenon. There was no bludgeoning of veins or tearing of the skin. Noor peacefully lay on the grass bed without a hint of disturbance in her expression or state. She didn’t wake up, but neither did she suddenly cry out in pain.

“I don’t understand.”Mannat helplessly let out. “This isn’t normal.”

“What is there to understand?” The Witch said. “Your mother is suffering from Miasma poisoning. So we are pumping mana into her body to protect her from further harm. Is that so hard to understand?”

Meanwhile, the roots glowed and pulsated, filling Noor’s body with turquoise light. The very process was visible to naked eyes.

“What has mana got to do with this? Is her illness similar to mana drain?” First, he suffered from the lack of it, and now his mother was suffering from it, too? Was this also fate?

“She doesn’t have mana drain.” The Witch said allowing Mannat to take a breath of relief, before choking him with the truth. “Because that would mean she could absorb mana, which she can’t. She doesn’t have mana roots. She has miasma poisoning, instead. Did you understand that? Or should I repeat?”

“No. What is miasma?”

“Aren’t you a feisty one?” The witch cackled. Mannat wasn’t one to get easily angry, but he almost lost it then. Thankfully, the Witch started speaking before it was too late. “Miasma is the opposite of mana.” She said indiscreetly. “While mana absorption is the result of positive thoughts, miasma is produced in humans because of negative thoughts, like grief, and sadness. Usually, mana pushes miasma out of the body, which is then absorbed by the Tree of Virtue and processed into mana, completing the cycle; but your mother has no mana roots, so she can’t absorb mana on her own. Some are born limbless or disabled, with an eye or earless. Your mother was born without roots. It is the same thing.” She taunted him again.

This time Mannat didn’t take her comment lying down. “Do you look like that because of miasma, too?” He fired back.

“Chirpy aren’t you, little bastard?” The Witch said smiling like she had won one over him.

“So this is the solution?” he asked. “The roots will pump mana into my mother, and save her?”

“Save her?” The Witch said loudly in her shrill voice and started cackling out loud without control. It took her a very long moment to calm down. “Wish I could be so optimistic. This is merely a temporary measure, fool. There is no easy solution to her problem.” She tested him, but he didn’t bite this time. She snorted and continued. “The miasma build-up has reached a critical point inside her body, the reason why she’s in a coma. You will have to fight it out. The roots will keep pumping mana to stop further miasma buildup in her body, but you will have to do the rest.”

“I thought you would help.”

“Me?” The witch said in alarm. “I’m but an old coot with both my feet in the grave. What can I do? And only a mage can help her.”

Suddenly, everything clicked in his head. And he hurriedly asked, “Is that what the job was?”

“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

“No. I—”

The Witch raised a hand to his face and interrupted him again. She raised her head and looked at him. She was grinning like a toad ready for the rain. Mannat wondered what it was this time around, and it was indeed a surprise. “Your father has arrived.” She said, and Mannat froze where he stood.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Had you maxed the skill, which your lazy ass should have in the last decade, you would have sensed the brute coming from miles away. Currently, you are not any better than a blind chick, wondering when his mother will bring him food.”

Mannat grumbled. It was the damned skill again. To think the bane of his childhood would continue creating problems for him even after he had grown into a man —correction: almost a man.

Mannat tried to run up the stairs, but the Witch stopped him.

“Remember,” She said with all seriousness. “This place doesn’t exist.” Only after she told him did he realize how big a secret he now shared with her. Would she detain him if he tried to tell others? Not like anyone would be able to get close to the tree in the first place thanks to the dizziness it brought, and the roots. Pandit was the best example of the former, but the roots were scary. And if she could actually make them attack intruders— the thought gave him the jitters.

Did it mean she trusted him?

My foot she does. Mannat thought rushing up the stairs back to the surface. He had his worries about leaving his mother alone down there, but things had already gone out of his hand.

His steps came to halt right outside the pit, but he didn’t see his father anywhere.

He even tried to sense his presence with mana sense. Consciously using the skill to look for something specific was harder than he believed it would be, but he got no result for his effort. He didn’t even know what he was looking for in the first place, and that’s where his fault lied.

No worries. The Witch joined him on the surface. She went ahead of him and pulled the stick out of the ground, which caused an instant cave in of roots and dirt, closing the pit for everyone oblivious to its existence.

Thankfully, he only had to stand in the wind for a few minutes before he saw his father in the woods. Raesh held a bright orange torch in his hand. He rushed straight toward them. The fire burning on the torch reached three feet high, making the torch appear like a burning long sword in his hand. Mannat had never seen his father look so intense outside the smithy. The man was glaring. A chill went down his spine he knew he was in trouble.

It didn’t take Raesh long to close the distance. Bhadur recognized him instantly and neighed. He did take a close look at the cart before traveling down the path between the gardens. Mannat didn’t let his father approach the tree out of genuine worry for his mental health and met him in the middle of the narrow path. The tree truly tested his willpower by just standing there. He didn’t know how his father would react to it.

Raesh didn’t let him speak. “Where is your mother, son? Why are you alone?” He asked with a rumble in his voice. His shirt was drenched and sticking close to his chest, while steam rose from his head and shoulders.

Mannat was apprehensive about what to tell him. He couldn’t just tell him the truth that the ground had swallowed her. How would that sound?

“Where is your mother, boy? Where is SHE?” Raesh yelled when Mannat didn’t answer him the first time around. He didn’t mean to shout, but he was drunk; Mannat could smell the stinging odor of alcohol from him. He frowned. Thankfully, it was too dark for Raesh to see his expressions.

“Don’t tell me anything,” Raesh spoke for the third time. “Just bring Noor and let’s go home.”

“I can’t.” Mannat finally spoke, but Raesh didn’t like his answer. His face fell, expressions grave. When was the last time his son had said no to him? He seriously couldn’t remember if there ever had been such a case.

He was going to make a case of it, but then he saw Pandit lying unconscious in front of the hut’s round door, and he fell stunned.

“Is that Gande’s son?”

“Yes, but,” Mannat panicked. He tried to explain, but his father pushed him out of his way and ran toward the house. Mannat ran after him, but his father was far faster than him. It was not even a contest. Mannat grew worried as Raesh approached the tree, but his father passed it without any disturbance. That was oddly assuring and surprising, but the Witch was full of surprises. Who knew how many tricks she had?

“Nothing happened to him, father,” Mannat said stopping behind him. “He’s only unconscious.”

His heart was in his throat from nervousness. His father was silent; and that only happened when he was angry.

“Is your mother inside, boy?” Mannat’s heart trembled when he heard his father call him boy, instead of calling him son.

“She’s not in the house, father,” Mannat mumbled, fearing his father would try to break down the door anyway. The man was a force that didn’t stop for anyone. However, Raesh didn’t break the door as he thought. Instead, he kneeled on the slope and checked Pandit’s condition. Mannat had forgotten to inspect him, but his father didn’t. He inspected him and checked to see if he was breathing.

“Is he ok?” Mannat asked, but his father’s words made him choke up.

“I expected more from you,” Raesh said. He then hefted Pandit into his arms and took him back to the cart, where he lay Pandit properly on the haystacks and covered him with a blanket. It was only after he made sure that the boy was secure did he turn toward Mannat who had followed him there.

“What did you do with your mother?”

“The Witch—“

“That old hag is a lying scum worse than a mixed ore. Don’t listen to her boy. She is like the impurity in the iron. She can only create problems, not help others. She is a curse on this village.”

Mannat shared his thoughts. “But she still is mother’s only hope.”

“I told you to wait for me! I was going to ask for help tomorrow. Raesh shouted. “Did you not understand? I wasn’t going to let her die despite what she wanted. Despite…” Raesh gritted his teeth. “Let’s go, boy. Come with me before it’s too late.”

However, Mannat had made up his mind. He clenched his fist and shook his head. “I’m not leaving her father. I’m sorry.”

“Why won’t you listen to reason?”

“--BECAUSE SHE IS DYING!” Mannat screamed. “She was cold as ice, father. She wouldn’t have survived the night!”

Raesh swayed on his feet. It was happening he believed. He noticed the old hag standing behind them, listening, smiling, and watching the play. “It’s the witch talking!” He mumbled looking at Mannat. “She has your mind.”

The word in the village was not heresy, after all. The old hag had a way with words; she wasn’t one to be trusted. Raesh knew better than anybody else did. She had told them many things when they first asked her help to conceive Mannat but never told them about this.

“Get in the cart; we are going back.”

“No,”

“Son, listen to me this time and come with me. Nothing good will come by staying here. I’ll get help. I promise. A few days is all I need.”

“Mother doesn’t have a few days, father,” Mannat said softly. He was tired. He wanted the night to just end. He wanted to wake up next day and eat her cooked meals.

Raesh grew silent.

“What about being a blacksmithing?” Raesh asked. His dry throat created a scratching sound. It got Mannat’s attention, but couldn’t catch his heart. “What about the hard work you put into getting the job? Are you going to throw everything away? Will you throw away your family, your friends for this chance you talk about without conviction or strength? Don’t think I don’t see your hesitation. I’m your father. I have seen you fall and rise. Don’t think you can hide your thoughts from me, boy.”

Mannat’s eyes opened wide. He remembered that freckled face and black hair. What would he say to her? He had managed to become an apprentice, but was going to give it up? What would she say?

“Will you abandon everything? The village people won’t understand your reason. They will despise you. Mock you for associating with the Witch. I can’t let that happen.” Raesh pounced, but his hopes were squashed when Mannat looked at him. He was no longer dodging his eyes, but staring straight at him.

“Yes,” Mannat answered without hesitation, and the Witch’s cackle rang in their surroundings. Of course, she was listening and laughing at them.

Raesh clutched his fist. Not yet. He had to do something. He couldn’t let his darling son be herded by the Witch. However, what could he do?

“Thank you, father,” Mannat said and hugged Raesh. When he separated from Raesh Mannat had a smile on his face. “I had my doubts like you. I was scared of the Witch, of what she represented. IN the fear I had forgotten that none of it mattered. What if people gave me black eyes; it wouldn’t be any different from before. At least, now they’ll have a reason to hate me. And you know it very well what they called me in the past. You wait for me. I’ll bring mother back, alive and cured. I won’t rest even if the world denounces me for my choices because it’s my choice and I’ll stand by it. You taught me to never give up, and that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll never give up until mother breathes, and will do everything in my hands to awake her so we can live together again.”

Raesh tried to say something, but the boy had already turned his back to him. Mannat had a wide back for a child his age, built to hold the weight that the world puts on his shoulders. Raesh had always feared him bending against the pressure, but the boy had always stood back up after falling. He knew the boy wasn’t afraid of failing but feared there would be no coming back for him if he failed this time.

He tried to follow him, but the Witch blocked his path.

“Where are you going?” She asked

“To help him,” Raesh said, to which she snorted. “Help yourself. He doesn’t need you. Now leave!” The Witch cawed and Bhadur freaked out. Raesh was surprised, as was Mannat. In the end, no matter how courageous, Bhadur was still a horse and no match for the Witch. The horse neighed and lashed out, turned, and galloped away tagging the cart along. Raesh could only go to help him.

“Wait for me! I’ll be back!” He shouted, looking over his shoulder at his son. Mannat stared back while clenching his fist until the distance between them grew so large, it was impossible for them to see each other any longer. Their paths had separated. One had lost everything and the other would be trying his hardest to get his everything back. If only they could be together, but their opinions differed and there was not much else for them to do than to part ways and do their own thing.

Mannat went directly to the tree next, and asked the Witch when she arrived, “So how do I get the job?”

The witch answered him immediately. “By raising your wisdom and Intelligence to twenty points each. What were you thinking?”

With his mother’s condition stable, he had all the time on his hands to get the job; or so he thought.

“One month,” The Witch said grinning.

Mannat looked at her and asked, “What do you mean?”

The Witch raised her bony index finger. “I give one month to get the job. You can think of it as a test. I’ll have nothing to do with you if you fail.” The Witch smirked and her eyes turned into two sharp and narrow crescents. “Let’s see how much you love your mother.”