The Gnarly Tree
Climbing halfway to the top of Witches' Rock, the Gnarly Tree dwarfs even the oversized trees used by Kadies. The tree trunk-thick roots are twisted and knotted, and the multiple trunks bulge out oddly in places – some of the bulges even sporting windows. Beneath the shade of its canopy, an oddly shaped log cabin sits, its angles skewed to conform to the wandering roots it hugs. A clearing surrounds the tree and Rock, with several fenced off herb and vegetable gardens filling most of the open space. To the east, the bulk of the Gnarly Woods looms darkly, contrasting with the calm tinkling of the numerous wind-chimes hanging from the twisted limbs of the tree.

Olivia and the gypsy Skreek Djivan bring Axel to the Gnarly Tree at the appointed time, with the curious antlered-Lapi Kalvin tagging along as well. They are greeted not by Isolde or Morgan, but by an unfamiliar older Skeek who is so plump and short that she's nearly spherical – but the tall pointed hat she wears identifies her as a witch. The woman shoos off Olivia and Djivan, and gives Kalvin a curious look.

"I'm Gammer Radish, from over Splotch ways," she introduces herself, her smile missing quite a few teeth. "Your little friend will have to stay here," she explains to Axel, "on account of Isolde not mentioning him and me only having the one blindfold."

"Oh," says Axel somewhat nervously. "Well, that would stand to figure." He turns around and reaches to put a hand on Kalvin's shoulder when he says, "I'm going somewhere now, but I'm fairly sure I'll return. Probably in one piece. Um," he carefully he reaches over and plucks one of his own feathers, wincing as he does, then hands it to Kalvin, "you can think of this as something connected to me. Lots of people use them. I'm not sure why, but people like to be reminded like that."

The young Lapi clutches the feather, but doesn't look worried at all. "Alright, I'll wait for you here. I'm good at waiting," he comments.

"That's a good lad," Gammer Radish says of Kalvin, and holds up the blindfold. "You'll have to bend down a bit, deary, for me to put this on proper-like."

"Of course." The bird-man kneels down, and when that doesn't quite work sits down and leads forward. "Sometimes when I can't see I can still see," he adds cryptically.

"Well, try not to do that," the witch notes, and wraps the blindfold around Axel's head. She takes the man's hand, and starts to lead him forward.

Axel follows along, though he has to hunch forward to keep the woman's hand. At least leaning like that his wings create a little shade.

Gammer Radish leads Axel on a circuitous route, sometimes in circles but almost never in a straight line either. There are slopes, and dips, stairs and points where Axel's wings brush against smooth walls. Finally, there is a sense of open space once more, and Gammer tells Axel he can remove the blindfold now.

Axel reaches up and fumbles with the blindfold until he can do it. Lately his hands have felt a little different. Stiffer, more calloused than they used to be. He muses on how that doesn't seem to be as weird as it really ought to be until the blindfold falls.

The man finds himself in the center of a circle of five giant standing stones, each inscribed with a different arcane symbol. A small fire is burning near the base of one, with a ceramic kettle kept near it to keep hot. Next to the kettle is the familiar form of Isolde Nightshade, the Stonebarrow 'Senior' Witch sitting on a little stool, and on the opposite side of the fire is another witch, this one tall and hunched and looking a bit birdlike on first glance… but apparently human.

"I guess you know Isolde already," Gammer Radish says, patting Axel on the back (well, lower back). "This other witch is Granny Flax, from Trollhaven."

Granny Flax may well be epitome of the term 'hatchet-faced', for despite the wrinkles and spots of old age she looks like she could split wood by just giving it a sharp glance. The tall woman is likewise wearing a long black robe that disguises her form, with her iron-gray hair pulled back into a tight bun beneath her impressive hat. She holds a fine-porcelain teacup and saucer in her hands, and looks Axel up and down quickly without saying a word.

"These are nice stones," Axel remarks, trying to sound conversational. He's not sure if he can sweat – did he ever sweat? It's hard to remember, he thinks. But he'd rather not start now. Slowly he turns around to look at all the witches, pausing briefly only when Gammer Radish pats his bottom. "I know Isolde," he agrees. He looks somewhat stunned by Granny Flax when he ends up looking at her. It's not because of her harsh appearance, but because of her appearance of being harsh. A little voice in his head tries to suggest that as a half-spirit entity he really ought to be a little braver. He also notes the voice sounds shaky, and has a mind to have words with himself later.

"So you're Axel Nadder-yankee or something, eh?" Granny Flax asks, standing up to glare down at Axel (she's that tall). "I don't see what all the fuss is about," she comments to Isolde, who manages to look put-upon.

Axel actually leans backwards, shrinking a little. "I don't see either really," he agrees. It seems best to agree with Granny Flax.

"Well, we're all here now anyways," Gammer notes, and pours a cup of tea for Axel. "Here you go, sonny," she says as she offers it to him. Isolde clears her throat, and asks, "Why don't you lead us in the Invocation, Granny?"

Axel accepts the tea and is sure to say "Thank you, Gammer Radish" in a very respectful tone. To do otherwise seems to invite doom, and that's something all the voices in his head agree on. He makes sure to sip too, not guzzle.

"It strikes me that I should be more nervous," he says to no one in particular as the witches converse. "Well, I am a little magical myself." "Yes, I know I'd be more magical if I preened more." "My feathers are perfectly fine." He blinks when he it sinks in that he's speaking his inner conversation aloud again, and so he just tries to smile like that's exactly what he meant to do.

Gammer Radish produces a corncob pipe and proceeds to light it while watching Axel argue with himself. Isolde rolls her eyes, and Granny Flax raises up her arms and says, "Oh yea, Great Spirit You-Know-Who, we three convene this coven tonight in hopes you will grant us your wisdom, yadda yadda yadda, with regards to this 'ere weird half-possessed trespasser and whatnot, and… and… oh, that smells just awful Gammer! What're you stuffing in that pipe this time, toadstools?"

"It's just 'erbs," Gammer counters, puffing away. "Nothing wrong with 'erbs! Perf'ctly natch-oo-ral."

After catching himself talking to himself aloud, it's something he's decided internally that he really should because it's a little weird, Axel tries to be quiet. Yes, very quiet. Deciding to laugh now would probably get some sort of wrath upon his head, and he already has enough on it as it is. Like blood, and feather.

On the other hand Axel thinks he does like the smell of smoke. There's something familiar about smoke, about things burning. It's as if there's a familiar face and a lesson there just beyond his ability to remember. Maybe I should take up smoking, he ponders.

"Why do I even bother," Isolde mutters, getting up and striding over to Axel. "Let's get started then," she says, and pulls off the talisman she gave to Axel several days earlier. Almost immediately a feeling of pressure descends on the bird-man.

"Is feeling under pressure supposed to be literal? Being physical is confusing," Axel remarks without thinking, and partially without understanding. It's like half of himself is so alien even his own reflex commentary makes him want to look at himself like he's a madman. Hunching down he peers skyward, just because.

The lights of the procession are gone. Something is standing atop the tall stones, but all that can be seen is blackness. And the blackness is staring right down into Axel's eyes somehow. "Why have you abandoned your territory, little spirit?" it asks voicelessly.

If Granny Flax made him feel small this shadowy entity makes Axel feel positively minuscule, though there is another emotion there besides. It's not fear, though that's running around screaming in the back of his mind, but rather a kind of familiarity. Like the smoke, like the fire. The bird-man's mouth hangs open, and inside he can feel a sudden jarring confusion. Sort of like when the lord decides to visit his farm and everyone rushes to make the best presentation possible. "Awrk," is about the only sound he can squeeze out for now. The mind peasants are still sorting.

"You have lost your territory then," the larger spirit notes, as if answering itself. "You make this mortal your new territory, in order to survive – no, in order for you both to survive. Life and death and rebirth in flames. You are a curious fellow."

What territory? What does it mean? Home. I can't remember which home is mine anymore. There's a wrenching loss of local cognition as the man's spirit takes the reigns and attempts to quickly convey what it means. In essence it forces a deeper merging out of necessity, and the result is that for a period Axel can't separate himself from Nadyenka. For a moment he is elsewhere, and without a sense of time. Scattered memories and endlessness that only a spirit can fathom exist in that brief moment, and then Nadyenka relents. From where he had sunk to his knees and gone slack-jawed and empty-eyed the man says, "Yes, it is gone." He blinks, fighting feebly with trying to regain a sense of self, "The others came and my flock is gone. I am Nadyenka now, and Axel is my vessel." His head cocks to the side, and he adds, "We are not at odds."

"You must seek out your true place, but it is not here," notes the dark spirit. "Harm no one, and you may pass through my realm. Take what belongs to me, and you will be expelled. Are we agreed?"

Even confused as he, or equally as correct "they," are Axel can understand that. He is not satisfied to leave it at that, however. "I would like to take the boy named Kalvin with me. He is lonely. He does not fit in. I would help him." The bird man blinks, eyes staring with an unnatural focus that does little to dispel his avian air.

"What do you offer in exchange for this boy?" the local spirit asks.

Axel stands silent for a moment. He hopes he doesn't look as unprepared for the question as he thinks he does. The human side of him wishes spirits were more like their fairy-tale counterparts, all-knowing and all-wise to advise him. Unfortunately the spirit part of him wishes much the same thing, wondering why fleshy mortals aren't better at fleshy mortal bargaining. Then it strikes him. "What do you want?"

"I will give you a task," the spirit replies. "At a time of my choosing, you will be directed to a particular spot. There you will provide life or death to those who come in need to you for one day."

The half-spirit tries to think of how best to answer that. He finds it strange that both sides of himself feel rather young in this, like talking to an older role model you want to impress but are afraid you're not. "It will be so," he says, and tries to sound official about it. A stray thought wonders if some day he'll be the size of a small hill, too.

"Very well," the spirit replies… and is gone. The feeling of pressure leaves with it, and the lights of the Procession shine down on the standing stones again.

Axel clears his throat and shuffles his feet as the witches return to view. "Well, that went really well I thought," he remarks. All though he can no longer realize it the human part of Axel, and the spirit part, lost a little of themselves to each other today. The memory washed away in the merging, no longer to be feared.

"He ain't dead," Granny Flax notes. "Did anyone bring some biscuits? I could go for a biscuit with my tea," she asks, looking pointedly at Isolde, who manages to find a cloth-wrapped bundle in her robes. "Here you are, Granny." Gammer Radish, pipe still in her mouth, seems to have dozed off. She manages to puff between snores.

Axel looks around briefly, then suddenly make an exclamation that sounds suspiciously like "awrk." "I forgot to ask what I am! And what I should do! And, where I should go … why I have … oh wait I think I know that now … um, why I don't burn – I'm sure I had other questions!" He sighs heavily.

"Sorry, we didn't bring you here to ask questions," Isolde tells Axel after she hands over the tea biscuits. "That is, for you to ask questions. You can't expect witches to go around giving answers to things all the time, can you?"

"Well, … I guess not." Axel runs a hand through his hair as he peers at Isolde. "I just rather figured I could find some answers. I always thought the spirits of the forest knew many things – but I don't know anything! I understand the cryptic part, I think, but it's not very helpful when I do it to myself."

"Sometimes you can't find an answer," Isolde says, and actually taps Axel on the nose with a forefinger as she adds, "In which case you have to make your own answer."

"Oh that's very cryptic," Axel says as he looks cross-eyed at his nose. "I'm going to work on that. Some day I'm going to be telling people, "the answers are within" and "life is like a box of matches.""

"That's nonsense," Granny Flax speaks up. "Life ain't nothing like a box of matches. That's just daft."

Axel sits up and rubs his nose as he explains. "Well I didn't say I was an expert. I said I'd work at it," he says, somewhat defensively. "But it's true. In a way. Um. Come on spiritual wisdom." He taps his head. "It's like this, every life is … like a flame. You see I've thought on this because I felt I should, and I think I get it a little now. Every life burns, some brighter, some lesser, and in their time they light other fires, and those burn and consume, and so on. We all consume to survive, destroy to exist, fade away eventually, but the fire continues as long as we can keep eating. The fire keeps back the darkness, and life is light." He looks pleased, and gives Granny Flax a how-about-that-eh sort of grin.

"That's fire, not matches," Granny points out. "And even after you use up the matches startin' fires, you still have the box. And where do matches come from, eh? Not the same place you came from, that's for sure. There ain't no mommy and daddy match-boxes out there."

"Oh, well, maybe life is like a fire then," says the bird man. He tries not to look too put out, and instead focuses on looking hopeful. Which he is, really, even if a part of him thinks gibbering crazily might not be the more suitable option.

The elder witch waves it off with her hand, and says, "Look, life ain't like nothing else but life. You don't need no meteefurs or anagogglies unless you're trying to explain it to a rock. Living folk know what life is on account of them already doing it. You're askin' the same questions that everyone asks themselves when they aren't busy gettin' on with things."

"Oh, well um … " The possessed man decides maybe it's best to just drop it, on account of not wanting a tongue lashing, and does so. He isn't hopeful but he tries for another question, "Well then why am I like I am? I have feathers, and wings, and … why is that? Why do I think I'm a bird, why not a shadowy figure like You-Know-Who?"

"You're like you are 'cuz it's how you're supposed to be," Granny Flax states. "That's obvious, ain't it? Living things got bodies, and spirit-or-not you're a living thing and you're body is gonna reflect who you are. You-Know-Who just gets overly-dramatic I thinks."

Isolde puts her head in her hands and sighs.

"Oh." Axel shifts, not quite sure what to think of that, but definitely sure he doesn't want to argue. "Well, um," he glances to Isolde, then the sleeping witch, "I … um … I guess I should prepare to leave. Kalvin will be joining me, if that is his desire." He thinks using words like, "desire" instead of "what he wants" is definitely something he should consider, might be on to something. More proclamations and less "um's" too. "Um" does not breed spiritual confidence.

Picking up the blindfold, Isolde says, "Well, I don't think you'll be leaving the area itself for a bit yet, and while Kalvin may be fine sleeping out in the fields you may still be a bit more fragile. You'll stay at the Gnarly Tree with us tonight, okay? Kalvin can stay too if he wants."

"I'd like that. My hands have been a little sore lately," Axel replies. Then he blinks, and adds, "Yes, let it be so."

The Kadie woman gives Axel an odd look after his last statement, then holds up the blindfold. "Bend down a bit please. The path up here is secret."

The bird-man nods, then kneels down. "Thank you for your hospitality. I know that not everyone would think very highly of me," he offers.

As Isolde secures the blindfold, Granny manages to nudge Gammer Radish awake again. There is the sound of the kettle being poured on the fire, and then the witches lead Axel back down to the ground, chatting all the while about who has been born, gotten sick, died, married, not-married-but-had-better-soon and who in their villages makes the best pies. Not a word about magic, or medicines, or anything else that might seem remotely witchcrafty.

As Axel walks along he has his own inner conversation which revolves entirely on how being a supernatural being isn't at all what he expected, and how the spirit part of himself – that other side of his memories and personality – thinks it's rather odd the human half would think so. Some of this slips out to be spoken aloud, but as he's engrossed in the topic he doesn't notice.

When the blindfold comes off, Axel is back at the Gnarly Tree, with Kalvin standing just where he left him before being brought up onto the rock. "How was it?" the Lapi asks as the witches go about lighting up the house.
When Axel removes the blindfold and looks down at the waiting boy he finds, despite everything, he just can't tell him he was embarassed and that being supernatural is a little underwhelming. Something just tells him that like the witches he must seem bigger than life, stronger, and enigmatic to a point. How can anyone belive in him otherwise? "I have come to terms with this place," Axel says, trying to sound both solemn and confident. "It has been decided that you may accompany me, if you wish. I will help you as I can."

Kalvin rubs his nose with the palm of his hand, then looks at the palm to see if it needs to be rubbed off on something else afterwards. "Where are you going, then?" he asks Axel afterwards.

"I am going to find an answer," the bird-man answers. He's beginning to see the benefit in being cryptic.

It sure is better than "I don't know," Axel thinks at himself.

"And then where?" Kalvin asks, in that way children often do when they don't understand the previous answer.

Axel glances to Isolde in a this-is-harder-than-it-looks sort of way, then he tells Kalvin, "Come, we've been offered dinner and a night here. Be sure to thank the good witches for their hospitality." Then he leans forward and adds quietly, "And just agree with Granny Flax, it's safer."

"C'mon you two, I've got cookies," Isolde offers, holding out her hands. Kalvin obediently takes one and says, "Yes'm."

Axel takes one too. It makes him feel little. "Yes ma'am."

Isolde leads the pair into her house, and through a maze of hallways and rooms that seem to have just 'happened' rather than been planned, and finally into one with a window and a small heating stove, containing two big piles of blankets. "You should be able to make some comfy nests from these. I'll go get your some warm apple cider and cookies, alright?"

"Yes ma'am, thank you ma'am." Axel gives the witch a smile, then steps back to kneel beside the sheets. "A nest is very important Kalvin, be sure to watch closely." Never mind that Axel only has an idea how it goes, he's sure it's very important and that he can do it. Probably. I think I'm becoming a god, he thinks to himself, which ends up being accompanied by a lot of worry and not the least amount of grandeur.

For his part, Kalvin watches quietly, and doesn't even comment when Axel gets his legs tangled up in the blankets…