The bird flew over the peaks of the evergreens and the roofs of the cities carrying bad omens, clutched in his talons. A call for help. A call to action. A message to be delivered to those who wouldn’t hesitate to deliver salvation… and who were friends (or in debt) to the Black Bear Witch.
With each day that passed after the message had been sent, the forests once home to squirrels, foxes and crows were now overflowing with kobolds, elves and dwarves, hiding in the underbrush, nestling in the evergreens and sharing caves with the local badgers. The oldest forests (the ones that were left) were doors through which the ladies of wood were let into the world… and they too felt that something was not right. They too felt the push towards the open wounds, determined to heal them.
As the days went by, Bianka, Marwig and Berna were doing what they could to bring back health to the injured land, waiting for aid to reach them. The grey husks could not be rejuvenated. That required coming into contact with them and the pain they gave in return would not allow it. More trees were to be planted and grown but… their roots would drink from lumps of poisoned dirt. They would be destined to live a short, miserable and painful life.
“The earth we’re standing on is emaciated, hungry…” said the witch, caressing the ground with pointy fingers “But worry not. After all, it is a grandmother’s duty to feed their children and grandchildren, making them all plump and healthy!” she cackled as she set a crude grid of lead over a bonfire and above the grid, she laid down her cauldron.
Marwig and Bianka shivered at her cheerfulness and her words. Everyone had heard stories about witches and their children.
‘Let’s hope she won’t eat the earth after she’s done feeding it…’ Marwig thought.
“I will need these ingredients, you two!” she thrusted a piece of engraved bark in Bianka’s chest “You don’t get to just stand there, watching while Mother Berna does all the work! Chop-chop!” she clapped her hands. It didn’t sound like a clap at all but something similar to drum sticks hitting each other.
The two took the chance to get a bit further away from her, scavenging through the bushes, looking for the mushrooms, berries and leaves needed.
“Bianka… do you think that… thing can be cured?” he asked sheepishly. It seemed to be a touchy subject to her. It was to every lady of wood as it was to doctors and surgeons. The ever-present question, often asked through sobs, with hands clutched in prayer. Can it be cured?
“I… well, it is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, as I’ve said” she prefaced cautiously “However, in the past, so many diseases were unheard of! Beasts and plants would die from them but… we understood them and-”
“You cured them!” he exclaimed, the same tone of a child who knew where his favourite fable was going.
She softly chuckled “We did. I believe there’s a cure to all ailments… but one.”
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11th of January, 1900
A full week had passed and the witch had done what a witch does best: smashing powdered flora, fungi and… bones into a mush and brewing them in her cauldron. Her two assistants stared in disgust: the compound smelled of rotten eggs and emanated an eerie pinkish glow.
Her low cackling through the smoke signalled the completion of the brewing.
“You see, little ones, the soil we walk on is similar to… a body!”
The implications of that sentence were many but Marwig chose not to think about them.
“It needs the food and the water to be healthy… but not just any of those! If you feed a body disgusting food and murky water, it will grow ugly, sick and weak!”
“So… what does-”
“A single drop of this concoction is like a lifetime of delicious meals for the soil! Enough to pour life into hectares and hectares of land!” she held a bottle of the concoction high in her palm, like a trophy. Many of those, filled with the strange liquid, were now safely tucked under the witch’s pelt.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“And after it has been used… I could help the trees grow safely” Bianka added, relieved.
“Correct, young lady!” she exclaimed, pinching her cheek just before she had the time to pull away.
“And you won’t be alone, you see! One of my lovely crows-”
“-has called for me.”
A new voice came from the behind the birches, loud and clear. It felt just as old as Berna’s but more shrill and higher-pitched. It was to be expected: it came from a much smaller creature. A short, old woman limped and wobbled her way towards them. She wore moss as clothes and shoes, her hair was long, messy and as white as cobwebs. She limped towards them on a wooden crutch and, on her back, she was carrying a basket. It was almost larger than she was. Behind her, more than a dozen feminine creatures followed. They seemed to be her daughters… and as one would expect from a family this large, they would not stop arguing with each other. Their mother wisely ignored them.
Marwig turned and froze.
“G-grandma?!” he dashed right behind Bianka, hiding from the old woman and her sizable family.
“Is she…?” the lady of wood looked down on his frightened friend, confused. He nodded, nervously.
“Oh my, it seems like little Marwig found himself a girlfriend!” the old lady proclaimed. The ladies of moss behind her all turned at once. Whatever squabble they had to deal with before had to wait. Tormenting their little brother was something that could not be postponed. With impressive coordination and a glint in their green eyes, they swarmed Marwig and began to submerge him in questions. Among the murmur, Bianka could faintly hear: “She’s pretty. Does she have a brother? Or a sister?”
She blushed faintly but giggled as Marwig struggled to answer the most basic questions of her curious sisters. Her focus, however, shifted on Grandma.
“You certainly took your time, Buschgroßmutter!” Mother Berna gleefully exclaimed, approaching her with open arms.
“There’s a lot more towns around the place, Berna, I tell you. Had to find ways around! Oooh, but I did see what you were talking about, you know! It’s not simply the trees! The air, the ground, everything’s different and strange!” she walked past her, taking some time with the roundabout that was her old friend, to reach Bianka. She stared at her, inspected her. She had to snap her hold neck upwards.
“So, you’re the one that will grow the trees! I’ve met some like you while coming here! They were already working on a solution!”
The Holzfräulein’s eyes widened “They found a solution for…” she pointed at the grey husks, still struggling to acknowledge them after the terrible contact she had with them.
“Oh, no no no, those are beyond anyone’s help, I’m afraid.”
“Then… what did they find a solution for?” Bianka sighed.
“You see, there’s these strange… woods around the place. A really baffling sort, I tell you. No bushes, no beasts, no bugs. Never heard a wood so silent” she shook her head, a strange disappointment slowing down her fast-paced voice “But worry not. Your sisters are dealing with those for now. I gave them a little bit of advice; they’ll do just fine.”
“For now, dearie, I think we should start the healing process” with a loud pop the cork was removed from the bottle she had been holding. The disgusting scent bubbled out of it as Berna cleared a spot of snow on the floor.
“What do I have to do?” she asked, looking at the bottle with caution and a certain degree of fear. She had nothing against squirrels but the idea of being turned into one was not appealing.
“You’ll grow the seeds, naturally.”
“But… but we don’t have them.”
Berna looked down on her old friend, snapping her fingers to get her attention.
“Mh? Oh! The seeds!” she brought two fingers to her lips and whistled loud enough that all of her daughters stood to attention “Now now, young ladies, stop pestering your brother! We have work to do! You have to…” she looked up to the witch.
“Dig holes in the ground.”
“Dig holes in the ground! Quickly now! One for each conifer seed in your pockets!”
One of them, the oldest of the group, had stolen many conifer seeds from her sisters, thinking it was some kind of competition on who could gather the most. As soon as she tried to get rid of them, her sisters promptly left her alone… with about 25 conifer seeds and her own self to blame.
Fortunately, Marwig had no idea of her crimes against the sisterhood and was ready to help, as he always tended to be.
“How many seeds have they gathered?” the lady of birch looked on as the mossy sisters made the hole-digging a competition too.
“They refused to count them all together, Lea kept on stealing them. I’d say a whole lot!”
“Too much, I’m afraid. How can I grow them all? I’d probably faint after the first dozen!”
“Oh, worry not, dearie. I think me and Berna can provide some… supplementary energy” they both cackled as their eyes glistened for a brief moment.
‘It’s for the forest, Bianka. It’s for your forest’ she thought to herself ‘At least I don’t have to drink that and the ground can’t taste it.’