The Human, the Witch, and the Dragon

Esmerelda had a strong belief that tea could fix anything. Cold- drink tea, upset- drink tea, stuffy nose-drink tea. She had a routine that she had been following since she tasted the tantalizing brew; three cups per day after each meal (and sometimes an extra as a nightcap). She was having an especially off day, the sky was overcast, a gray hue against the horizon where rain threatened to fall. Esmerelda hated the rain, it made her joints feel stiff and cold, it made the air thick with tension and humid. She hated it. So, the solution was of course- tea. The gas stove hissed as droplets of water from filling it under the tap sizzled in the flames. She placed her favorite strainer in a pot and lit the flame beneath the warmer and started to sift through the contents of her tea drawer. “Drawer” was a rather small word for such a large collection, it was more similar to a full-sized dresser that opened outwards to reveal the numerous shelves of tea. Firm fingers snatched a canister in the far back of the last shelf, her favorite blend. A gift from her neighbor, she wasn’t sure of the contents, it just tasted delicious. A warm harmony of spices and florally, almost like lavender but smoother. It was hard to describe the ingredients because they were not familiar and her neighbor said it was less about ingredients regardless and more about the timing of them. Whatever that meant. A loud whistling drew her from her tea drawer, and she poured an exact amount into the pot. She waited until the hissing had died down before pouring the water in. According to her neighbor, this tea didn’t need an exact temperature for a perfect elixir like green tea or black tea did. Just as she sat down at long last at her favorite circular tea table in the corner by the hearth a knock came from the door. Grumbling about perfectly ruined tea she marched towards it and threw it open.

The Adventurer’s Guild had prided itself on its resourcefulness for over 150 years. When a stranger from the mountains came in search of a witch to subdue a mighty dragon, the Guild jumped at the chance (after a hefty payment of gold was made). They knew just who to contact about a terrible beast such as a dragon as this. The Great Witch of Willdrum. A powerful magic user rumored to have slain hundreds of the beasts, defeating armies and even bringing down an impossible necromancer. Sending out a party, they scurried across plains and through thick forests to reach Willdrum where the witch was said to live. They knew their destination to be true when they reached the end of a neighborhood where two houses stood. One was a cottage, quaint and with drooping roses in the sills; the other was a tall gothic monstrosity with metal bars crisscrossing against wide windows and pointed roofs stretching into the sky. This was a witch’s house; of this they had no doubt. It even seemed to be raining only on that precise house, vines threaded from the ground and stuck to the sides of the house, soaking in the rain as it wept. A brave Paladin in the group stepped up creaking wooden steps where he pounded on the dark door. An ominous rumble sounded as soon as his fist connected. The Paladin felt the breaths of the other four party members breathing down his neck.

“Great Witch of Willdrum! We ae honored by your presence! We are but humble and loyal adventurers in search of a witch to defeat a great, fiery beast! We have heard tales of your heroic deeds from lands far and wide! We would pay you handsomely!”

“With an adventuring fee.” Reginald added so lowly none, but the paladin heard the added clause.

All the members stared expectantly at the beautiful witch at the door.

Esmerelda almost didn’t bother with a response. She sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You want Gideon.” She let out on another exhale pointing to the cottage across the street. “I’m human.” Without waiting for a response from the flock on her door, she closed it firmly and went back to her cooling tea.

The party scrambled to the other side, Reginald himself pounding on the old wooden door. There was a scrambling of noise inside of footsteps and crashing noises followed by a slew of curse words. The door opened, but before it fully pulled open, Reginald repeated his shpiel.

It was only after the last word boomed throughout the land that Reginald trailed off as they all took in the sight of the witch in from of them.

Radiant.

That was the first word that popped into poor Reginald’s head as he stared agape at the witch, hoping he wasn’t the only one struck by such unusual witch-like appearance. It wasn’t just the head of golden curls that framed sky-blue eyes and broad shoulders- the witch seemed to glow with potent ethereal energy. His tanned skin physically shining like golden coins. In fact- it seemed there was a sort of shimmer all over the Great Witch of Willdrum. He grinned at the party, eyes crinkling in the corners and teeth unusually bright it almost hurt to look at.

“Gideon Lightfield at your service!” The witch bowed in a flourish, cape billowing in imaginary wind.

Gideon was used to people struck by his appearance, it hardly bothered him, he liked the suspense after all. This was hardly the first time his human neighbor, Esmerelda was mistaken for a witch, for all intents and purposes, she truly did look typically “witchy”. But alas, it was Gideon who was the Great Witch of Willdrum… if you squint a little. Truth be told, Gideon’s great-great-great grandfather’s brother’s cousin was the infamous witch, and Gideon just happened to be the last in the bloodline who could take the name. Though his magic was a bit… flashy. All style and no substance.

“Please tell me of this grand adventure!” Gideon let out, deepening his voice and projecting it to his awaiting audience.

A Knight holding a Sheild of Strength nodded fiercely, long mustache bobbing with the movement. “Yes, YES! Of course, there are reports of a great beast! A dragon, in the Western Woods by Durnam. We are tasked with finding a witch to expel these forces and free the people of the beast’s territory!” The Knight exclaimed with a hard punch to his chest, the strike of metal on metal causing an eerie ringing that hurt Gideon’s ears.

Clearing his throat and bobbing his head in agreement, Gideon gathered his waning courage. “Of course! Of course! Let me just…” He pointed across the street where the ominous dark cloud (courtesy of a spell gone awry- oops) was bathing the dark house in sheets of rain.

Without waiting for a response, Gideon bolted to Esmerelda’s front door, leaving the adventuring party to wait precariously on his doorstop. He rapped his knuckles against the door and waited for the quick-tempered steps. Esmerelda had an annoyed expression adorning her face, not so unusual as she always looked irritated, but she looked especially tense.

“Hey Es!” Gideon chirped with a wide smile.

She could not be moved by his charm. “No.” She simply said before turning to close the door.

Gideon jumped inside right as the door swung shut, a loud sigh spilling from her lips. He wasn’t at all surprised when she crossed her arms and glared at him through pitch eyes.

“Please, please, please!” Gideon held his hands together to his sort-of-kind-of friend. “You are so brave, and there will be dragon’s, I’m sure you would love a dragon!”

She stood unwavering.

With a matching sigh, Gideon slumped and added, “I’ll split the bounty and make you more of that Night Tea.”

Esmerelda perked up instantly, “Well why didn’t you start with that!”

Adventuring was not all that the grand tales of knights and heroes of old are put out to be. Most of the time adventures are riddled with packing, planning, and travelling. So. Much. Travelling. Then the logistics of using a map to find the town and bypassing rough roads. There were no bandits on this stretch of land, nor were there more beasts to be slain. It was merely a long, lonely, dirt road that stretched across the countryside as they sat in their saddles of slow horses and donkeys. The sound of hooves and gear clacking, too loud for small chatter to be heard over. Not that Gideon wanted to socialize overly much, he was anxious. And afraid. Mostly afraid. Gideon has been called on plenty of adventures, but mostly he just was a pretty face while the party did most of the work as he threw out blinding rays of light that just made every glitter. He was not a spellcasting kind of witch- he was a potion brewing kind. But those rarely helped, so he would drag Esmerelda with to hold onto his litany of potions and held guide Gideon when things became rough. She was brave and intelligent, more so than Gideon. Which is exactly why she was with for this particular adventure. She could tell Gideon exactly what to do, and how to do it. A strategist he was not.

The night grew long and dark, leaving a hollow feeling in Gideon’s bones. Tomorrow they would reach where the dragon has been rumored to be. But through everything, there was a niggling in the back of his mind. Reports did not tell of cattle being taken or homes being torched to the ground, rather it was of a dragon flying low over hill and dale screeching to the heavens as if in agony. But adventurers tended to exaggerate. Gideon might not know much, but he did know that was unusual behavior for a dragon, if they wanted to cause chaos, they would do so horrendously and without remorse. That feeling grew when he was packed tight into his thick blankets with the fire doused for the evening. There was a sound. Like a chittering only louder that scared the birds in the trees and made the ground quiet of all sounds. It was so difficult to sleep with the sound that he finally made the decision to hunt down whatever was making that racket. Pushing back his blankets he followed the noise through a clearing and to a denser patch of bramble that poked and pulled his clothes. More chittering followed by a large shape in the thorns made Gideon jump back and nearly land in the patch himself.

Forming a mage light (he could thankfully cast that one), he took in the sight. Scales and bloodred eyes greeted him. Gideon screeched, heart pounding in his chest as he took in the sight of a dragon. He had never actually seen one before in person, it was rather a rare thing to spot a dragon. But there it was stuck in a patch of thick bramble and knobbed trees. It was not as beautiful as some tales claimed, rather it was closer to an overgrown snake with thick claws and bat-like wings. Gideon wasn’t sure what to do, so he made a shushing sound to the dragon and walked away.

Esmerelda was used to being Gideon’s thought and reason. He really was a powerful witch, but only with potions. And non-lethal ones that that. He had mastered the art of tea making and muffin making yet never turned down an adventuring offer even though he was merely a showman with flashing lights rather than any help. Esmerlda just helped pull it off and keep him safe. But waking from a bumbling Gideon returning from a late-night stroll made irritation spike through her veins.

“Gideon!” She hissed rushing forward, “What in the world are you doing?”

“There was a noise!”

“A noise?” She huffed, “Really Gideon, we are in the wild, of course there is noise!” She tacked on with a wave of her hands around them.

He shook his head, blonde curls jumping around. “No- just listen. I followed the racket, and I found the dragon!”

It took a moment for Esmerelda to catch up to that blanket statement. “I’m sorry?” He gestured her forward and together followed a path to a thick set of trees and thorny vines. And right in the center was a struggling dragon. Alarm bells started blaring in her mind and pieces of this puzzle started to blend together. Gideon had shared his confusion with the dragon’s behavior, now it made horrible sense. It was looking for its baby. Because there was no way that this puny thing was a full-sized dragon.

“Gideon!” She hissed, “This is the reason for the dragon sightings!” Esmerelda watched and waited for it to click. His brow furrowed for a long moment before pale eyes widened in sudden understanding.

But before they could decide what to do, there was a loud crashing behind them. The adventurers party was up in arms and staring at the dragon. Esmerlda saw when they noticed the dragon and took up arms. She did not want an angry mother dragon to hunt them down for killing their child, with quick thinking she thrust a potion in Gideon’s hands and threw up her own in amazement.

“The Witch of Willdrum has subdued the dragon!” She elbowed a shocked Gideon who bobbed his head before fanning the potion behind him in quick waves away from wandering eyes.

The dragon lit up in a shower of golden light, blinding the party ahead of them. “We will cast this dragon out!” Gideon boomed with a deepened voice. “Adventurer’s we thank you for your service, we must take out this beast in a complex ritual, we cannot have you interfere. Wait for us by the roadside.” Gideon arched back with a hand to his head, “If we do not make it, write a song for us.” He tacked on in fake mourning.

There were some rumbles and groans from the group, but with another potion unstopped, the clearing became filled with black, thickening clouds which seemed to do the trick. The party was gone by the time the clouds subsided.

“Ok, what do we do?” Gideon asked, hesitantly as the dragon started to make long groaning noises.

Esmerelda studied the crossed branches and thick vines that the baby was tangled in. “We set it free.” She stated. Gideon looked sideways at her, then at the dragon, and her again.

He started to nod his head, determination sweeping across his features. She had never seen such motivation from the witch, she could see the gears turning and spinning in his mind, cascades of- “How?”

Esmerelda sighed. “Do you have your ingredients?”

Gideon nodded in delight, and Esmerelda had to bite her tongue to prevent her from saying, “good boy” whilst patting his head. “Remember that concoction you made a few weeks ago to make your roses grow, but it killed them and made an unfortunate storm appear?” She tried really hard to keep the angry expression off her face, she was becoming really tired of the storm above her home.

Gideon nodded and kept nodding along. “Gideon!” She finally snapped.

“Oh yea.”

With quick hands he started to put together ingredients in his pewter bowl, crushing and turning while occasionally leaning down to smell the powder. Esmerelda was 98% certain that was not how a witch should test their potions but held her tongue each time. With a triumphant wave, Gideon held the contents up with pride… before promptly spilling them behind him. His expression wavered and then started to form a pout.

A thick cloud of smoke started billowing from behind Gideon and he leapt out of the way as the powder started eating at the vines and trees like an overactivated parasite. They watched as branches twisted and turned and the smell of smoke rose swiftly in the air. A shaking boom sounded from above them and Gideon pushed himself into Esmerelda’s arms, shielding himself (even though he was at least a full head taller). Rain started to pour down as lightning cascaded across the sky.

“What did you do?” Esmerelda shrieked in the wind.

“I thought a larger batch would help speed up the process!” He shouted back.

And he wasn’t wrong, at the next crack of lightning that fell too close to the pair, they noticed the dragon clawing its way out of the bramble, wings beating hard into the sky. They could see the dragon struggling, but there was little to do now but watch as it pushed itself forward and upward until suddenly the last of the branches gave way and it sped towards the sky. Relief, like its own bolt of lightning, struck through their hearts watching the dragon disappear, a loud roar that had nothing to do with the storm soon followed.

The storm continued on for half their journey back to their homes. The adventuring party was shocked by the sudden onslaught and had hoped to see the slain beast, Esmeralda helpfully told them there was nothing left after such a powerful witch took care of it.

They heartily believed her.

The day after they returned to their homes on the edge of the wood, Esmerelda sat down at her favorite table, looking at the bright sky outside, tea pot steeping in front of her. Just as she was about to pour the delectable beverage (courtesy of her neighborhood witch), there was a knock at the door.

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