Chapter 10: That Which is Found Longs to Lose Itself

While Koolah had gone in search of the wanderer who lost its face, Jadah had chased after Wauldigg.

It had not been safe to talk to the heroic dwarf with the wards of their cottage broken. Coupled with that was how confused they had been. This resulted in forcing him to leave.

However Jadah was sure that talking to Wauldigg could prove fruitful, after all, he visited the cottage daily. The only problem was that he was partly trapped by the loop. Getting some sense from him would be difficult. After all, he was failing to remember how many days had passed.

Jadah adjusted her brown hat, causing the golden bush growing on it to scatter motes of gold into the dark of the crow leaf forest.

It wasn’t a bad idea to catch up to Wauldigg and stir his memories around. There was just one problem with the idea.

Jadah stopped amid the trees, sending swirling frozen feathers up into the air, only for them to be consumed by the dark, never to fall down. Jadah sniffed the air and frowned. She pulled a few leaves from her hatbush. Rolling the leaves between her fingers, they turned to golden motes. Jadah let out a gentle breath and the motes tumbled from her fingertips, changing into the form of wings, they fluttered into the depths of the woods.

No sound but the cracking of the frozen crows could be heard.

“Hmm, well, that didn’t work too well” Jadah mused.

There was a trace of Wauldigg’s presence but the cold darkness obscured so much. It was a place that was lost, that would make those within be lost. The flow of magic, the magic itself was thick with wayward essence. It was quite a large part of nature of the fallen realm.

“That which is lost also wishes to be found” Jadah murmured.

This time, Jadah pulled a bottle from her hat. Within the bottle were squirming golden cat-like figures, occasionally white eyes would shine forth from the bottle. A brew with no particular use, a brew with many uses. This potion was refined from her own hatbush. There were a few simple tricks Jadah could do with the leaves of the bush.

However, the potion was her power, it was her essence, her magic. Most importantly, it was concentrated. She could do more than mere tricks.

The lid of the bottle was a creamy white metal, a spout with a screw to open or close the opening. Jadah carefully put her hand to the spout’s key and twisted. The figures rushed to the exit, but as soon as a feline head popped out, Jadah twisted the spout closed.

“Just a head’s worth should do” Jadah muttered

A small cats’ head no bigger than a clawtip floated around her hatbush, swimming through the air as a fish in water. It playfully and idly snapped up motes of gold that fell from the hatbush. Indeed, the motes’ true nature were motes of magic! The easiest form of magic to manipulate!

Jadah shook her paw and let out a low shuddering breath. Carefully she put the potion of her own magic back into her hat. She waved her shaking paw, and the tiny cat’s head took on an alert and shocked expression, it swam over to Jadah’s mouth. She whispered to it with words that could not be used to speak with.

Joyfully, the cat’s head changed into wings, but this time, the wings were brighter, there was a pulse of life to them, they seemed, more real, more full. With a low cat’s cry, the wings streaked off into the dark. For a moment, nothing happened, but then in Jadah’s eyes, she could see a thin fragile line of golden white.

She joyfully clapped her paws and pulled a broom from her hat.

The broom terrified her, but being a witch, Jadah wasn’t above using things that inspired fear in her.

It was a simple wooden riding broom, the top end of the handle was carved into the shape of a crow’s head. A bit before the broomhead there was a leathery seat set into the body of the broom. As for the broomhead itself it was made solely from the frozen feathers of the trees.

The three sisters had not made the brooms themselves, the trees gave them far too deep a sense of dread to do so, but Wauldigg had made a gift of them to the sisters one day.

Sitting side saddle on the broom, Jadah followed the frail golden white line. She did not move too fast or too slow. Not too fast because she could not pierce the darkness with her gaze, and not too slow because she dared not linger around for any length of time.

Her heart disquieted, Jadah continued to follow the line amidst the tree, weaving in and out.

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

Wauldigg evidentially moved at a truly fierce pace. Koolah at this point would probably have been cursing Wauldigg, Jadah however just felt a bit of admiration for Wauldigg and worry for herself.

As well that she should worry, as only a little further into the woods, it transformed, the trunks of the trees twisting together, forming maze-like tunnels, and taking on an appearance more like bundled briars than trunks of trees.

Jadah soon lost all sense of direction as the line led her up and down and around, the maze of trunks seemed endless, and Jadah could no longer sense the gaze of the trees. Then, she lost sight of the golden white line. She panicked a bit then, spinning around, and it seemed to her eyes that the trees were moving around her, twisting in perplexing patterns, writhing.

In the process of collecting herself and calming down…

…she realized that she was no longer alone.

The presence felt like no dwarf she had ever known.