Chapter 9: The Hag’s Residence
The hag’s home loomed like a festering wound at the heart of the heath, nestled deep within a hollow of ancient brambles. The air grew colder as one approached, the scent of damp earth and decaying vegetation clinging to the wind. A sagging roof of warped thatch barely held the structure together, and the crooked door hung ajar, its rusted hinges creaking with every whisper of the breeze.
Inside, the room was a swamp of shadows and decay. The only light came from the flicker of coals beneath a soot-streaked cauldron, the fire’s dull glow casting writhing shapes onto the cracked walls. The hag moved through the space with an almost unnatural grace, her hunched figure blending into the chaos around her. She wore a tattered dress of patchwork fabric, stained with grime and substances best left unnamed. Her bony hands worked tirelessly, weaving willow branches into a charm that dangled with tiny bones and fragments of yellowed parchment.
“Eat, little hare,” the hag rasped, her back turned to the cage in the corner. Her voice carried a sickly sweetness that made Miri’s fur stand on end. “I’ll have no scrawny meals in my pot.”
The hare huddled in her rusted cage, clutching the iron bars with trembling paws.The dress she wore was dirty and stained, her wide eyes darted to the pile of cabbages and turnips beneath her, their vibrant greens and whites almost mocking her despair. She hadn’t touched a bite.
The hag didn’t turn around, but she cackled as though sensing Miri’s resistance. “Suit yourself,” she said, plucking a bone from the charm and tying it to the willow frame with strands of dried sinew. “Makes no difference to me. The night flitters will finish what I can’t.”
Above, a creak broke the heavy silence. The hag paused, cocking her head toward the sound. In the dark recesses of the attic, her minions stirred. The night flitters hung from the beams, their leathery wings folded around their small, hunched forms. Their glowing yellow eyes blinked open, piercing the gloom. One let out a sharp, shrill screech, flapping its wings before settling again into stillness.
The hag’s lips curled into a thin, satisfied smile. “Good little pets,” she murmured, returning to her work. “You’ll have your turn soon enough.”
Miri’s heart hammered in her chest as the hag turned back to her cauldron. The witch muttered under her breath, words that twisted the air around her, making it feel heavy and oppressive. The charm she wove began to pulse faintly, each rune on the parchment flaring to life as she tied it in place.
The shadows in the room seemed to grow darker, creeping toward the hare’s cage. Miri shrank back, gripping the bars tightly as tears welled in her eyes. She had to believe that Kalo and the others were coming for her, even if all signs pointed to despair.
A sudden clatter from a shelf broke the hag’s concentration. A jar of preserved eyeballs had toppled, spilling its contents onto the floor. The hag hissed in annoyance, her bony hands snatching up the mess. “Foolish things,” she grumbled, placing the jar back on the shelf with a sharp clink.
For a moment, her back was turned completely to the cage. Miri’s ears twitched, and she pressed her face to the bars, scanning the room for anything—anything at all—that might help her escape. But the cage was sturdy, and the hag’s sharp ears caught even the faintest of sounds. The hare’s heart sank as the witch returned to her work, muttering incantations that made the air shudder.
Entered by: 0xe9a1…78d3
Chapter 10: Into the Hag’s Lair
The sun dipped below the horizon, and the heathland transformed into a realm of shadow and whispers. A low mist crept through the brambles, curling around the legs of Kalo, the faun, Sprig the asp, and the badger, whose steady breaths betrayed a calm resolve. Ahead, the silhouette of the hag’s dilapidated home rose like a jagged tooth in the gloom.
The group crouched in the undergrowth, their faces lit by the faint moonlight that filtered through the tangled thicket. Kalo gripped his broom tightly, whispering to the others, “We’ll move quietly. One mistake, and the night flitters will wake.”
Sprig coiled slightly, his green scales blending into the shadows. “I’ll scout ahead,” the asp hissed, his forked tongue flickering. Without waiting for a reply, he slithered forward, silent as death, his small form disappearing into the brush.
The badger, now armed with his enchanted spade, tapped it lightly against the ground. “Let me handle those winged pests if it comes to it,” he said in a low growl. “They won’t know what hit them.”
The faun placed a hand on the badger’s shoulder, his expression somber. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, my friend. We’ll need all of us to face the hag.”
The group began their careful approach, following the trail Sprig had scouted. The air grew heavier as they neared the hag’s home, thick with the scent of damp wood and rotting leaves. Twisted branches clawed at their cloaks as they moved, and every crack of a twig underfoot sent their hearts racing.
When they reached the edge of the thicket, Kalo signaled for them to stop. The hag’s home was only a few paces away now, the faint glow of firelight spilling through its broken windows. Shadows danced across the walls inside, and the muffled sound of the hag’s muttering reached their ears.
The group exchanged nods, their expressions grim but resolute. Kalo led the way, his staff held low to avoid scraping the ground. They skirted the house, their movements synchronized, each step placed with care.
But as they rounded the corner, a loud creak shattered the silence. The faun froze mid-step, his hoof having pressed down on a rotted wooden beam half-buried in the earth.
From above, a piercing shriek echoed through the night. The night flitters stirred in the attic, their glowing yellow eyes snapping open as they flapped their leathery wings.
“They’ve woken,” Sprig hissed, his voice laced with dread.
A flurry of wings erupted from the attic as the night flitters poured out of a broken window, their screeches tearing through the air. The creatures spiraled downward, their sharp claws gleaming in the dim light.
Mr. Thornwick the badger stepped forward, his grip tightening on the spade. “Go,” he barked at the others. “I’ll keep them busy.”
“No!” Kalo protested, but the badger had already charged into the clearing, his sturdy frame moving with surprising speed. He swung the spade in a wide arc, its enchanted blade crackling with energy. The first night flitter dove toward him, and with a grunt, he struck it midair, sending it hurtling into the dirt.
“Go!” the badger roared again, his voice carrying over the chaos.
Kalo hesitated, his heart torn, but the faun grabbed his arm. “We have to trust him,” the faun said, his voice firm. “If we don’t move now, it’ll all be for nothing.”
With heavy hearts, the group slipped past the clearing, their eyes stinging with the sight of their companion battling the swarm. The badger fought valiantly, his spade flashing as he struck down one flitter after another. But for every creature he felled, more took its place, their screeches growing louder, more frenzied.
The others made it to the side of the house, pressing themselves against the wall as they listened to the battle raging behind them. Kalo clenched his fists, his breath shaking. “He’ll make it,” he whispered, as if saying the words aloud would make them true.
But deep down, they all knew the truth. The badger’s sacrifice had given them a chance, but it had come at a terrible cost.
The faun closed his eyes briefly, murmuring a prayer to the wilds for their friend. Then he turned to Kalo and Sprig, his voice steady. “We press on. For Miri.”
With grim determination, they climbed toward the broken attic window, leaving the sound of the badger’s battle behind.
Entered by: 0xe9a1…78d3
