“It’s about time that fool drew silent.” Said Atticus. He and Morell enjoyed the rest of the ride, which wasn’t that long at all before they arrived at their destination. All of the Brambillions came to a halt at once around the edge of a pool the size of the ruins in Oldvale. For what Morell and Atticus might have expected, the water was surprisingly clear compared to the rest of the bog.

  “GGGRRRRIIIMMMMSSSUURRRRREEEBBBTTHUUURRRTTT”. The Brambillions said in unison.

  “What was that?” asked Atticus.

  “They say the problem is somewhere deep down there.” The boy pointed.

  “What are we supposed to do about it?” asked Atticus. “We don’t have gills like a fish to reach the depths of that pool. It must be fifty, no, sixty feet to the bottom!” Morell thought for a moment before he looked to the Brambillion he was riding.

  “Shuurrgwwwuuuuhhhhteeeth!” he said, pointing out to the others and the pond. The Brambillions vibrated a low sound before they each began to elongate their long arms. Everyone held on to their hosts as they extended and unfolded their greenery from each side until their vines met to create a five-sided star shaped arch that connected in the center. From their new vantage point, the humans looked down ten feet to the water’s surface. The surface of the pool was like a mirror.

  “So, what now?” asked Atticus.

  “I think I’ll have to go into the pool to see if I can find whatever it is that’s infecting them.”

  “You want to go down…there?” Atticus pointed at the pool with wide eyes.” That’s unsound talk, Morell.”

  “We didn’t come all this way to not find out what the problem is.”

  “Morell, I’m not putting a toe into that water.” The man said, leaning over to one side as to gaze down without getting close to the edge.

  “It’s ok to be afraid.” Said Morell in a calm demeanor. “I know I am.”

  “Being afraid right now is a very sane reaction to a situation like this.”

  “How would we know?” the boy asked curiously. “Have you ever been in a place like this in the company of huge plant creatures while trying to figure out how to undo a blight? I haven’t.”

  “Well…” Atticus said, stumbling on his words. “Not like THIS before, but I’ve been in many a precarious situation.”

  “Then we can’t be afraid. Do you know why I’m not afraid?”

  “Because you’ve got a head full of that psilocybe that has you speaking to plants.” Atticus said flippantly.

  “Perhaps, but right now I try and think about what Hoxley would do if she were here to see such a thing.” Morell said confidently as he set down his mace and began to disrobe.

  “What are you doing?” asked Atticus. “Put your clothes back on, you fool boy.”

  “I don’t want my clothes to get wet.” He replied. “Wet clothes will just weigh me down while I’m trying to swim.”

  “You’re actually going to go through with this?” he asked.

  “Do we have another choice?” asked Morell.

  “Yes, we do!” the man pointed a finger at the boy’s bare chest. “We don’t know what’s down in that water! It could be poison for all we know. Just tell your boombaloon friends we couldn’t find the source of the blight and have them point us to the nearest exit of this misty wet underside of a place.”

  “You ARE afraid.” Said Morell. “Hoxley said you’re the bravest person she’s ever met. She said that you once took on twenty soldiers single handedly.”

  “I’m not afraid of men with swords and spears.” Replied Atticus as he pointed to the water. “This is something else. I’ve never trained to deal with something like this.”

  “Then I’ll go by myself.” Said Morell as he sat down to take of his shoes. “The Brambillions are depending on us to help them. They’d be quite angry if we turned back now, and I don’t want to upset them. My mace won’t be of any use while I’m below the surface. May I borrow one of your knives?” he asked, motioning to the ones hanging from Atticus’ belt. “I promise to give it back.”

  “You’re either a fool or the bravest person I‘ve evet met.” Atticus grumbled, unsheathing one of the two knives and flipping it about for the boy to take. “Here. If you come back alive you can keep it.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “That’s a deal.” Nodded Morell as he took it. By this point he was completely naked and turned away to stare down the distance to the waters’ reflection. Far below him, a copy stared back. The Brambillions jittered and waved their vines in unison. It was all so frightening in this place so unreal. As Morell looked around him, the blossoms of the Brambillions opened and closed in anticipation. His heart trembled as his gut took the lead and inched him to the ledge.

  

  I can’t be afraid. I mustn’t be afraid. Hoxley would be brave. Siouxsie would be brave.

  And in those last few seconds before the courage to leap found Morell, he thought of the sweet witch girl. He basked in the inner warmth that came with thinking of her. He would be brave in a way that would make her proud to be with him. “You can do this.” She would say. Emboldened, Morell bent at the knees and leapt out into the air. And with knife in hand, he dove to pierce the surface of the water and seek out the mystery below.

  All the witches in Spellvale were told the glorious news; the Lightning Witch had been reborn. Even though it was so late in the night, they dressed in a hurry, gathering in masses at the temple to catch a glimpse of a demigod made anew. A sea of pointed hats rushed inward like a tide, each hoping to bear witness and see for themselves if the rumor was true. They pressed themselves against one another with children atop their shoulders. When there was no more room, they took to their brooms to hover in place. Whispers filled the air. Anxious looks were exchanged as necks craned in all directions. When all were present, Vickiri entered by the door closest to the inner sanctum and stood atop a crudely constructed stage made of tables so that everyone could see him. He held a lone hand out over the crowd and every voice grew quiet.

  “Good evening, brothers and sisters!” Vickiri’s voice boomed. “Or should I say, good morning!” A chuckle rippled through the crowd. “I have witnessed a great event, and it would be selfish to keep such news to myself! I’m here to tell you that our great sister has shed her old flesh and been made anew!”

  “Show her to us!” called a voice from the very back of the room. “Let us see!”

  “Ha Ha!” Vickiri laughed. “Yes, Yes, in just a moment. But some of you have already seen her before when she arrived wearing a different face. She’s coming out in just a moment but before she does, I want everyone to understand how disorienting it can be for her. She’s still a little shaken and fatigued by the rebirth. So, having said that, we’re going to keep this introduction short, for now, and in the coming days everyone in Spellvale will get an opportunity to meet and speak with her.”

  Behind the threshold of the doorway, Siouxsie quaked in her winklepickers. Her nervousness was enough that she physically trembled at the idea of being put on display. It eased a little when Ignatius placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder and lowered himself a little to speak in her ear.

  “Why are you nervous?” he asked.

  “I’m anxious because I don’t know what these people will expect of me.” She said, biting her bottom lip. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “No one ever really knows what to do.” He reminded her. “What I do know is that they came to see you and none of them know Siouxsie Hex like I do. Perhaps you should just be yourself.”

  “But they’re going to want majestic things, and I don’t know what will please them.”

  “You can’t live your life trying to please everyone. You’ll make yourself sick and miserable. You look lovely, by the way.” he said. Siouxsie looked down at herself and felt the material of her new clothes. Save for her shoes, she was draped head to toe in fine blue sashes and an airy blue cloak with a matching light blue pointed hat atop her head.

  “I want to wear black.” she told him. “It’s healthy to wear black.”

  “We will find you some new leathers when we have the opportunity.” Ignatius told her confidently. “For now, this is the best we can do, and they are not rags by any measure. Always what?” He asked.

  “Always count your blessings.” She replied.

  “That’s my girl.” He said. He then lifted off her hat to kiss her on top of the head before replacing it.