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.

Once again, Liliana has managed to keep Morgan overnight, leaving the Kadie to try and sneak home in the morning. He's been lucky so far, but on this morning his mother Isolde is taking her breakfast tea outside, under the shade of the great Gnarly Tree they make their home in.

Oh bother, Morgan thinks as he edges behind a tree. I know mother knows – she has to know by now – but coming home like this … The Kadie swallows. He's been dodging the conversation about Lili with his mother for some time. He's not at all sure what his mother will think, although he's assumed she hasn't hated the idea – otherwise he's sure he'd have heard about it by now. He keeps behind the tree, and tries to think of a plan.

"You know, Morgan," Isolde calls out from the front yard, "you would be able to hide much more effectively if you washed the perfume off first."

Morgan sighs. Sometimes, he thinks, his mother must have eyes – and noses! – on the back of her head. Knowing the 'jig is up,' so to speak, the Kadie walks around the tree and heads right for the older Kadie. After all, best look like he meant to do exactly what he's doing all along – it's the witch way. "I rather like her perfume, she has a better stock than I do," Morgan explains.

Isolde sips her tea, then places the fine porcelain cup back on the saucer in her lap. "Hmmm, yes. Your gypsy girl," she says, neither sounding approving or disapproving. "What are you going to do when they eventually leave?"

"I will run off and join them, possibly to throw knives. You know how great I am with knives." The last time Morgan tried to handle a knife that didn't involve cooking, reagents slicing, or the occasional carving project, he nearly stabbed himself in the foot. He sits down in front of his mother with his legs pulled under him, bracing himself up with a hand, and adds, "To be honest, I know it will happen. What can I do but be sad?"

"You should have gotten a nice local Chalk girl," Isolde notes. "Not that I am one to be giving advice on romance. But that shouldn't stop you from coming to me if you have questions or problems. I'm still your mother, after all."

"Lili, Liliana I mean, is hard to resist, even if I had been trying. I don't think Stonebarrow has anyone like her, even within the Chalks. And, well, she's … very hard to resist." Morgan clears his throat in two dainty coughs. "Um, speaking of Lili, she's been wanting to meet my parents. Maybe you can talk to her? And … " the Kadies tail twitches, " … wait, what you said, it reminds me of something I wanted to … Oh! Father! I wanted to ask about my father, in case Lili asks about meeting him."

The teacup pauses midway towards Isolde's lips. "Your… father? Why would she be interested in him?" the woman asks.

Morgan blinks. "Because she wanted to meet my parents, and she isn't local, so she wouldn't know." He blinks again, tail flicking. "Come to think of it, I've never really thought of it before. It just seemed like the way of the world, just us I mean, and I never gave it much thought until Liliana pressed to meet my family."

"So, along with seducing and corrupting you, she is challenging your view of the world itself now?" Isolde asks. "Are you certain she's a dancer and not a witch?"

"Um," says Morgan, who suddenly seems very interested in what the side of the cabin is doing. "Well … "

"Amelia never asked about your father," Isolde notes, and finally finishes raising her cup for another sip of tea.

Seeing a way to dodge what Liliana may be, Morgan looks back and insists, "Lili was just curious, that's all. She didn't even say "your father," either, it just occurred to me when she was pressing it. She thinks I'm embarrassed to be around her, I'm sad to say."

"AND Amelia is with Zahnrad now. She wants to travel," Morgan adds, just to be safe.

"She should realize that a person of your standing in the community would not be embarrassed to be seen associating with an exotic dancer of debatable morals," Isolde says, in her typical deadpan voice. Sip sip sip.

Morgan's muzzle twists, since he knows his mother is right – the hint is right, not the literal interpretation – but he just doesn't want to admit it. Unfortunately, he knows his mother already knows, so he just blurts it out before it can sneak up on him. "Yes, you're right, she does embarrass me for that exact reason. I'm forced to juggle my love of Lili with my community obligations, and I fear I'm not doing it very well," he says.

"Then that is your problem," Isolde says, placing the now empty cup back onto its saucer. "You are a witch, Morgan. You are not supposed to have any doubt in yourself. Doubt is something you reserve for others. Your relationship with Lili is not the problem, nor are your public duties. Only the doubt is the problem. Banish it."

"That's all very cryptic, but I'm still working out how to do that. I could … well … Ah! I'll invite Lili to the Gnarly Tree, like she's been asking. I'll walk straight through town – no more skulking about, or hiding the fact. There. I'll leave the wondering to the folk, and I dare say they'll think me very brave for doing what I said."

"Just so long as they don't doubt you," Isolde says. She sets her cup and saucer aside on a nearby stump. "Now that the idea has been planted in your head, however, do you wish to know about your father?"

"I don't doubt I care about Lili, I only doubt that I have made an error in judgment. That I, well, chose pleasure over responsibility. Anyway … " Morgan nods his head, "yes, I'd like to know. I'm curious now."

Folding her hands in her lap and sitting up straight and prim, the senior witch asks, "Alright, what do you want to know about him?"

"Well, for starters, who is he? Did I ever meet him – is he still alive," Morgan asks, sitting up with ears forward.

Isolde purses her lips, then says, "To all three, the answer is: I do not know."

Morgan frowns then, ears splaying and tail quirking in to a decent approximation of the upend side of a question mark. "You don't know, mom? Was it … something bad? I mean, if you don't want to talk about it, I'm sorry, I shouldn't ask," he says.

"It was complicated," Isolde explains. "At the time, I had many admirers, and was young enough to still find the idea of love mysterious. Being a witch, I naturally chose to perform a divination ritual to determine which man might best suit me. I collected samples of their fur, and selected an isolated spot in the woods to perform the ritual. The results… were unexpected."

"Unexpected? Do you mean "the potion turned my fur blue," unexpected, like four years ago when you taught me that one recipe, or Gunther unexpected, or even Amelia unexpected?" the male Kadie inquires.

"Much more unexpected than any of those," Isolde says, and scratches at her cheek. "The ritual began as it should, with lots of smoke and my going into a trance to receive the vision. It was the vision itself that was unexpected."

Morgan nods slowly as he listens, only interrupting to quietly wonder aloud when he'll learn about visions. Then again, hearing this … , he thinks quickly after.

"Instead of seeing the man of my dreams, I become surrounded by chirping… Creens," the woman says, still trying to maintain her prim composure. "They swarmed together, much as they do in preparation for winter hibernation, but instead of forming a ball they formed a man. A fine Kadie with fur in a rainbow of colors. He came to me and… " here the witch blinks, remembering who she's telling this to. "In any case, I left that clearing with something I hadn't brought into it. Namely, you, growing inside me."

Morgan's jaw steadily unhinges, until it just drops when Isolde says "the ball formed a man." He does, however, wince when his mother almost gets into the more intimate details. When his mother finishes, he blinks and says, "What?" in an unsteady waver of a voice, ripe with disbelief.

"Now, before you start to panic, there are other possibilities to consider," Isolde notes, raising up a finger. "I did say that I had many admirers. It is possible that one of them followed me, perhaps hoping to affect the results of the divination, and simply became caught up in it all. This would not explain your ability to transform into a Creen, however, but would at least account for all the rest."

"Oh." Morgan reaches up and, after closing his mouth, rubs his nose as he stares at the ground, thinking. "Do you mean I'm the only one who can turn in to a Creen? I suspected you could, mom, and maybe the others, though I expected they were concealing it from me, and well … Mmm."

"I have my secrets," Isolde notes. "But transforming into a Creen is not one of them."

"I guess that's my secret, then. Son of … a ball of Creens? Or, well, no … more than Creens. That's more of a spirit's way, though not the style of undead. A nature spirit? Something like the great spirit, or that man Axel Nadyenka? I suppose … well … I'd just have to find out, myself." Morgan then peeks up at his mother, brows raised. "I see what you mean about dating advice, mom. Ha, ha … Aherm." His sudden smile melts slightly under the oddity of it all, making him look a little bewildered.

Isolde frowns at the gibe. "The reason I did not object to your seeing the gypsy in the first place was that it was an opportunity to see if you could have normal relations. Given the nature of your conception, I feared there might be some unusual side effects."

Morgan scoots over and offers his mother a hug. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be mean, mom. I was just trying to tease you, because, I suppose, I could use a little laughter right now. At worst, I was expecting Amelia's father." A pause as he leans, and he frowns, adding, "It would explain a great deal, though."

Isolde stiffens up at the mention of the Blacktail clanhead. "He was married at the time," she notes.

"I understand completely," Morgan offers, patting his mother on the back. He lets his head rest on her shoulder, and explains, "Mom, Lili … changed when she fed on me. She's not an Eeee, at least not entirely. She has something else in her, something that reacts to my blood, and makes her, … a little different. Still pretty as the day is long, though."

"You let her drink your blood?" Isolde all but squeaks, and suddenly looks like she's about to faint.

Morgan, still holding on to his mother, scrambles to shift his weight back to his knees and reaches to brace Isolde by the shoulders. "Lili's a vampiric Eeee, it's a custom for intimacy. I thought it would be all right – I trust her," he insists quickly.

Isolde puts a hand to her forehead and closes her eyes. "And yet you say she is something more than Eeee as well? Just as you are more than a Kadie? No wonder you are so strongly attracted to each other," she murmurs.

Morgan nods to that. "Yes, I see what you mean. We're both outsiders even as we are placed in civic leadership positions. Don't worry, though: Lili's transformation wears off, in time. I heard later it was going to happen anyway, but my blood started it earlier than expected. Lili doesn't do anything odd to me, at least so far – the regular things she does to me are overwhelming enough as it is," he says.

With a sigh, Isolde pat the back of Morgan's head. "Oh, my dear, dear demon-spawned son. I should not have forced you to be a witch, and made your life so complicated."

"Well I'm sure Lili will be glad to know we're both demon-spawned," the male Kadie says, with a hint of a smile and a laugh in his voice, slight though it may be. Then he hugs his mother again. "I don't resent being a witch," he tells her afterwards. "I like working with spells and potions, I don't think I'd have done as well with anything else. It's finding where I fit in that's the problem, and how to go my own way, and still do my part. Lili, she leads, and she travels, and I think she's found her place. I'll find mine too. Besides, I have the best teacher." Tilting his head, he then kisses his mother on the cheek.

Isolde hugs her son, and then, somewhat ominously, adds, "Be careful, Morgan. If you share such an odd trait with each other, it may be possible for you to get her pregnant."

Morgan's ears shoot up, and his tail quickly joins them. "Pregnant! Oh my, I hadn't considered that! We're so different, I mean, that would just be, well … You did want a granddaughter, didn't you?"

"Ahem, a granddaughter who could become a witch, yes," Isolde notes. "Not one that Dr. Pike would want to dissect, or that will have a tendency to turn into a dragon or some such."

Morgan leans back, eye widening, "I don't think I'm ready to raise a dragon. I don't think anyone in this town is ready for that. Oh my. I'll have to be careful, and warn Lily."

"I am sure Miss Liliana will see it as an opportunity to try out something different," Isolde says.

"I guess this means you'll be wanting me to find someone else eventually, though. Amelia has told me that she wants my child at some point, which seems a little impersonal, but that has always been Amelia's way," says the male Kadie.

"Well, that would probably be the safest solution," Isolde notes. "I am fairly certain that Amelia will not produce overly demonic offspring. At least, not physically demonic."

"They may destroy the town if they ever they get their hands on something to swing. Amelia has become quite a terror with those weapons of hers. I suppose that, too, is her way. I know she wanted to be your young new witch, and I feel bad about that," Morgan confides. He then glances off into the forest and squints. "I figure Lili will have to leave some day, or find someone, and that will be that. We can cherish what time we have, and move with the seasons, as is the way of things."

"And I must make concessions to your own masculine nature," Isolde says, sighing. "It is probably best for you work these things out of your system while you are young, lest you become the type of witch that ends up being cooked in their own oven."

The male witch looks back, tail twitching. "Has that ever actually happened? I suppose you COULD build a house out of gingerbread, but it would be such a hassle, and then Gunther would just eat it," he asks.

"There is usually some truth to such tales," Isolde admits. "A witch's lot is not an easy one. We walk in a demon-haunted land, and must do our best to be good neighbors."

Morgan nods. "Perhaps, if it's true, being half-demon will come in handy some day. There, see? A bright side to everything. Perhaps, if I can work it out, I can use it as a common bond, to be a more approachable neighbor." Morgan settles his hands in his lap and glances down at the tea cup. "Do you want some more tea? And when will I learn about divination? I've mainly feigned being omnipresent by watching in Creen-form."

"I think I could use a second cup," Isolde admits. "And you should have some proper breakfast to keep your strength up. As for divination rituals, most are rather female-centric, but you will need to learn them anyway. We'll start with the simple dream-related ones, if you like."

"I'm not sure I'm ready for the girl of my dreams, but I never do like to turn down learning more about witchcraft," Morgan says as he looks around for a tea pot. "Oh, and mom: I'm sorry. I know I'm not exactly what you wanted; this must be hard for you, too."

"A witch is able to rise to any challenge, Morgan," Isolde says, then sniffs and sits up straighter. "And after breakfast, I think you should take a bath as well."

"I do smell, like, well, Lili. She does have a lot of perfume. I should borrow some." Morgan picks up the tea pot and leans over to carefully pour his mother another cup. "Some day, I hope I have your bravery. I thought I was brave, what, back when that skeleton ran around the farms a few years back and I banished its spirit – but there's more to bravery than a little fighting. Civic duty and family! Spirits be good, that's all anyone should have to deal with."

"Just wait until I teach you about love-curses," Isolde says, sipping her fresh tea. "It is best that you enjoy women now, before you find out how cruel we really are."

Morgan shudders, then nods slowly. "That is all too scary for my uninitiated mind to want to comprehend at this moment," he insists. After filling the up, he replaces the kettle back in its place and refolds his hands. "Before we start: do … do you think I could meet father? Try to, well … I suppose summon him, just to talk. I'd like to meet him once, and face the truth, if truth he be."

"You are not ready to try a communion ritual," Isolde notes. "Your first will be your initiation as a full witch, and you must be free of doubts and distractions when the time comes. Right now, you seem to be very distracted."

"I am not afraid to admit that you are right," Morgan agrees. "I am distracted. I have to sort my life out, and then I'll be ready. I hope." Morgan blinks, then grimaces. "That didn't sound confident at all. Mmm. Okay, focus Morgan: ready mom."

Isolde grins, and pats Morgan's hand. "Do not fret, men naturally take longer to mature in these matters."

The edge of Morgan's mouth twitches up. "How about demons? Any hope there?"

"My goodness, who knows?" Isolde asks. "But to ease at least one of your distractions, you may go ahead and invite your Lili to have dinner here with us, and stay the night if she likes."

"Oh! Well good, I'm glad. I'll tell her the first I see her again, which should be soon. Eeee have almost reprehensibly good hearing." Morgan smiles. "Well, shall we begin then? Lili really has been drawing me away from home a little too much. I do need to practice some time."

"Alright, we can start with what are known as 'pillow divinations', which just about anyone can do," Isolde says. "You'll be able to teach this to regular girls, as they're used quite often… "

"I bet this is a pillow trick Lili doesn't kn-" Remembering his mother is sitting right across from him, Morgan immediately flicks his big poofy tail, grins embarrassedlyw, and nods. "I am – and thanks mom."