“Come now, don’t be shy, share your secrets with me,” said the croan.
The Hölzerne Hexe had lived longer than even the forest. When she wanted to know what was going on, the old woman would talk to the whispering roots.
“Tell me how the war goes to the east, does the prince still live?” the witch asked.
“His breath fades as his brother’s ambitions grow. Within a fortnight, his ashes will nourish us,” came the response.
Hölzerne Hexe was feared by many. Stories spoke of her cruelty, but the truth was far different.
“Tendralls that wind about the palace speak to me of the Queen’s health,” questioned the croan.
“The Queen’s belly swells, but the child inside is weak and will not see the light of day,” whispered the roots.
“A poultice I will send for the Queen to wear as she sleeps. We mustn’t lose the baby to the foul deeds of the Queen’s jealous sister,” muttered the Hölzerne Hexe.
For those who knew her, the Hölzerne Hexe was the heart of the forest. Beware any fool who fails to heed her warnings to care for the forest.
“Vines that creep and crawl under the earth tell me of the Dark One and his Troth devils,” the witch asked.
“Mörken moves closer to the great wood each day, and as he does, more of our sisters fall to the Troth’s blades,” came the reply.
“Damn that vile creature. Must I unleash the ivy upon him? I haven’t the strength to control it, and fear it will consume the entire kingdom,” said the woman.
The Hölzerne Hexe pulled a small vial from inside her garment and allowed two drops to fall upon the ground.
“A demonstration of the ivy’s power should send the message I require,” the croan said.
The woman stood and stretched her back, then let out a long sigh as she gazed across the land. “What will happen to you when I’m gone?” she mumbled, then turned and walked deep into the woods.
“Time for tea and cakes,” the croan said. The Hölzerne Hexe needed to think, and that meant tea and cakes.
Tomorrow, the whispering roots will tell whether the ivy did its job or if drastic action is needed.







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