A collaborative effort of Dragon Muse Artwork's Yvette Marie and Snippets & Shorts Maria O'Reilly
PROLOGUE: HAZEL & WETZEL
"There, there, Wetzel. There, there."
Hazel picked up her forlorn companion and cradled him gently against her cheek. Life in the bog was oftentimes distressing, but seldom had Hazel seen Wetzel in such a state. Her little familiar let out a soft sigh that warmed Hazel's hands. There were big things happening in the bog right now—and big feelings to accompany them.
"I know. I think we are going to have to tell the others. They are so young and don't need to be going through this right now. How could we have failed them so badly?" Hazel murmured to her little Wetzel. The stress wasn't good for either of them.
The bog witches were in place to protect the bog, the town, and all its inhabitants, keeping the area safe from outside evil influences threatening other parts of the world. Each bog witch was selected by her predecessor from the townsfolk, typically with enough time for the predecessor to train her as each had specific tasks.
Hazel was the last of the fourth generation of bog witches. Catrin, Efa, Mari, and Sioned had all passed, each selecting their successor from the townsfolk over the years. Layla had been first. Catrin had plenty of time to train her. They were so similar in nature that sometimes Hazel had to stop herself from calling Layla by the wrong name. Mari and Willow were like sisters, closer in age than the rest, as Mari's health wasn't good and she needed someone in place sooner than she should have, in Hazel's opinion. Efa had her eye on Hannelore. Both were quiet, introverted, and so socially polite it hurt sometimes. Efa had only passed a few months ago, so Hannelore was very new to her role. Hazel had chosen Megg. An odd pairing, but it seemed to work. Megg was a little hot-headed but smart as a whip. Hazel loved Megg's boldness, and her training was complete. She was staying with Hazel for only a short while longer before assuming her role when it was Hazel's turn to go to the Great Beyond.
Then there was Sioned. She was a melancholy woman, sad all the time, and rarely smiled. She claimed she saw something in a young girl from the town named Tempest. Hazel didn't see it, but it wasn't her call to make. Sioned said she would train Tempest, but instead of training her alongside the others, Sioned had kept Tempest to herself. About a year ago, before Efa left, Sioned was found drowned in the bog. Tempest had found her. Hazel had no idea how Tempest's training had been going. The last she had spoken to Sioned, she said everything was going quite well. Something about the entire situation didn't sit well. Instead of saying anything, Hazel decided she would just keep an eye on Tempest.
At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Tempest wore black in honor of Sioned, which was odd as the witches usually chose bright colors to celebrate the joy of returning to the Great Beyond. The townsfolk often wore black when someone passed, so perhaps Tempest was simply holding on to old traditions. Efa had noticed that Tempest wasn't really getting over Sioned's death and decided to visit her at the cottage. It was then that Efa's health began to decline. Slowly. Within six months of Sioned's passing, Efa was gone.
Hazel had asked her friend if she thought her failing health had anything to do with her visits to Tempest, but she vehemently denied that. "There is no way Temp could have anything to do with this. All we do is sit and drink tea from the same pot and talk about Sioned." Still, there was a niggling feeling in Hazel's gut that said Tempest was involved somehow.
One day, Hazel had asked Wetzel to stand watch over Tempest's cottage to see if she went anywhere at odd hours. Around midnight on the very first night, Wetzel had come racing back to the cottage, agitated and desperate for Hazel to follow. She followed Wetzel back, not to the cottage, but rather to a clearing on the far side of the bog. There Tempest stood, garbed all in black, opposite a robed figure. The other woman looked more like a whisper of smoke, dressed in a black robe with long grey hair, eyes the color of ebony, and a black mink curled up on her shoulder. The quarters had been called, evidenced by the stones placed on the ground around the pair. It meant that no one would be able to hear what they were saying. Hazel watched until the end when the black-robed woman vanished and Tempest began to dismiss the wards.
Making her way back to the cottage as quietly as possible, Hazel went inside and lay awake for hours. Wetzel, too, had trouble sleeping. Dare she tell anyone? Should she keep watching? Writing had always been an outlet for Hazel. She decided to write a note detailing all her observations. She then folded the letter, placed a spell on it, and tucked it under her bedside lantern. Finally, she dozed off.
She woke to the sound of what she thought was Wetzel crying, but when she looked over, he was there, sound asleep on the window seat. It must have been her dreams. Rolling over, she closed her eyes, and that was the last time she opened them.
"Hazel! I'm going to head to town shortly. I know I was going to wait until next week, but really there isn't much more for me to do here," Megg yelled from the kitchen. Odd. Hazel didn't respond. For that matter, where was Wetzel?
"Hazel? Are you here?" Megg went out into the garden in case Hazel might have been up early and gotten a head start on her day. No, she wasn't there. Megg went back into the cottage, and upon entering Hazel's room, she froze. "Hazel? Are you still sleeping?" she asked as she slowly approached the bed. Her eye caught Wetzel sound asleep in his bed at the window.
Something definitely was not right. Reaching down to shake her mentor awake, she was greeted by the cold stiffness of Hazel's dead body. Looking over at Wetzel, she was sure the dragon was not asleep either. This was not natural, she was sure. But there was no sign of a struggle or evidence of foul play. Then it hit her. She was now a full-fledged bog witch. She sat on the edge of the bed for an hour, absentmindedly stroking Hazel's cold hand, tears rolling down her cheek. Finally, she picked up Wetzel and carried him over to lay him beside Hazel.
Megg was not one to let things go. Something was not right. Everything seemed too simple. Too neat. She began shuffling around the room, poking at this book and that pile of clothes, moving things around. She got to the lantern beside the bed and noticed that the dust around the base had been disturbed. Lifting the lantern, she saw a neatly folded piece of paper. She opened it up, and it simply read, "Milk, butter, eggs, and bread." But there was a luminescence. An untrained eye would have missed it. A spell. There was more to this letter than met the eye.
Calling upon her lessons with Hazel, she knew the words to say to remove the spell, and lo and behold, an entire story appeared. Megg read every word over and over again. If what Hazel had suspected was true, then this was a disaster. A traitor in their midst. The whole bog was in danger. She needed to find her sisters. Her first visit would be to announce Hazel's passing. That visit would need to include Tempest, as she didn't want to tip her hand. But a second visit with each of her sisters would need to be arranged. Caution was going to be the key.
She bent down to kiss Hazel on the cheek, silently promising to be back to give her the burial she deserved so that she could join her sisters in the Great Beyond, also promising to avenge her death, for she was sure now that it was not a natural one.
STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT INSTALLMENR MEGG & DELPHYS available July 6th!