Warning: hags get pretty gruesome here.
Chapter 2: A good omen
Beira shook the sticks within the small tubular container and threw them at her wooden table. She hated having to resort to such crude divination method, but xylomancy was the only reliable scrying which didn't require magic, only knowledge. At least that couldn't be stolen from her.
When she walked in the woods earlier to gather herbs, a branch fell right in front of her. Beira had been around long enough to never dismiss such omens. She did not like surprises and so she gathered up twigs to find out what was trying to sneak up on her.
She stared at the pattern the sticks took on and it was unmistakable - it was a sign of new life. It confused her so she set fire to them to analyze their ashes. When they finally burned, she was even more perturbed and refused to believe her interpretation.
Beira set her jaw, knowing well what she had to do. It was humiliating to have to ask a being beneath her for help but what other choice did she have?
It had been over two centuries since that unforgetful day when Bryde took everything Beira held dear. That spirit was a plague upon this land ever since she stepped her foot on it. With a wave of that white wand, she brought flowers and green grass and melted snow Beira worked so hard on. And suddenly, something shifted in magic, humans stopped giving offerings to appease Beira and instead worshipped Bryde.
What else could she do but take matters in her own hands? Bryde was a weak nature spirit, not even a minor goddess while Beira was an ancient deity, the Mother of Creation, the Ruler of Reincarnation, the Queen of Winter. She was the only one who deserved to be revered by the common folk. She was not going to take such offense to her honor.
And so she trapped Bryde and made her a servant, granting her an even lower status than her hags.
Then her love-fool traitor of a son, Angus, demanded of her to release Bryde from the servitude. No one made demands of the Goddess of Creation, and so Beira hid away Bryde deep within the mountains.
Angus whined for help to his father Dagda, a powerful ancient deity, who came and stole Beira's powers and immortality and gave them to that ungrateful spirit! This wasn't his matter. This wasn't his issue. This wasn't his land! Dagda had no right to stick his nose in Beira's business. She was dealing with the problem perfectly well on her own, protecting this land from that troublesome spirit, but Dagda did the unspeakable and attacked her.
This was uncalled for. Beira defended what was hers, she did not commit any crime, while Bryde, the most despicable viper, encroached on her territory, turned her favorite son against her and stole her divinity. It was clear who was the villain and who was the victim in this fable.
Beira pleaded with other deities to restore her immortality. It was unacceptable that it was taken away from her, but they all refused to grant her that one simple wish, pretending that they didn't want to upset the balance of nature. She knew what the reason was though - they were afraid of angering Dagda. If he dared to do that to Beira, who knew which deity he would target next.
Reduced to a mere mortal, Beira started to age and within a few decades, she was an old crone and would soon die of old age or disease if not for a little pebble - the secret to eternal youth, but like with everything that sounds too good to be true, there was a catch. She had to travel to the Well of Youth every spring, for the powers of the eternal water were short-lived and wore off as the year progressed. And so each year, she drank from the Well, became young, gradually aged, and by winter, she was an old crone again.
She had lost track of how many winters passed as she traveled to the Well and repeated the process, but no matter how bleak it all seemed, she refused to give up hope that there was a solution to her problem somewhere out there, that she could gain immortality again.
Beira knocked on Leticia's door who invited her in and gave her a respectful nod in greeting. Back in the day, all hags used to bow to her all the way down to the floor. Beira bit down her wounded pride because she knew that until she found a better solution to her situation, she would only get this courtesy. At least hags still respected her, not forgetting that she was the goddess who created them. Unlike all other beings who all too quickly let her fade into legend.
Leticia smiled, revealing crooked yellow teeth and gestured at a chair.
Beira took a seat, crossed her legs and fixed the folds of her gown while the squat gray-haired hag hobbled over.
"How may I be of service, milady?"
"Scry for me, Leticia."
Leticia grinned broadly.
"Certainly."
She went over to a crate in the corner where she rummaged through the contents. While she prepared, Beira made an effort to not look around the hole this hag regarded as her bedchamber. It was dim, dreary and smelled like a soiled chamber pot. Just being in that foul room made her wish for a bath.
Leticia came back, holding a wriggling mouse in her gnarly hands. Beira glanced at her own hands reflexively. They still looked slender and graceful since it was thankfully only summer. She was not looking forward to winter when her skin would be as wrinkly as this hag's.
"Oooh, oooh," Leticia made noises while tilting her head back and forth, observing the squirming mouse. "Good news. Good news."
Beira's spirits livened up but she remained passive, not letting the hag know that she was pleased.
"I wonder…" Leticia pulled out a small knife from a chopping block, wiped it on her unwashed apron and came back to the table where she placed the rodent right in front of Beira.
Before Beira could protest at such disgrace, Leticia stabbed the mouse and slowly sliced its abdomen, and while it was still squealing in pain, she tipped it over and watched with fascination as its innards spilled out onto the table.
"Mind the blood!" Beira objected and checked her gown for splatter.
Leticia hummed while watching the rodent squirm and waited until it kicked for the last time.
'And I thought the sticks were crude,' Beira thought to herself, watching the hag dig her long curved fingernail in mouse entrails.
Leticia stuck her tongue out while she examined the rodent. "Yes, I'm sure," she murmured and then looked Beira in the eyes with a grin.
"Congratulations are in order."
Beira groaned and Leticia chuckled.
"Ah, but milady already knew."
So it was true. She was pregnant. It was most inconvenient. As a goddess, Beira had complete control over when she would bear children, but now she was apparently as helpless to nature as a mere human. She wasn't sure who the father was. She took on a few lovers in the spring while enjoying her new maiden body. This time, they were water spirits, she would never lower herself to bed a human man. She might be powerless but she still had her dignity.
"I dared to hope I was mistaken but it isn't possible for me to be wrong."
"Certainly," Leticia inclined her head and giggled, giving Beira a wink. "Fun times have consequences."
Beira straightened up in her chair and assumed a wrathful mask, wiping the hag's smirk off. Her actions were not going to be compared to what hags considered "fun times." At least, she never had to use elixirs to lure and trick males.
Leticia cleared her throat uncomfortably and walked over to a wicker basket.
"Milady?" she offered her a loaf of dark stale bread and Beira looked at it with utter contempt.
Leticia grinned again and sat down. "If I may remind you, milady, it is a good omen. It would be prudent to keep the babe."
Then, she proceeded to break a piece of the bread and dip it in the mouse innards which were still on the table.
Beira left the hag to enjoy her snack and deliberated if it was, in fact, a good omen. Having a child meant a lot of work, although, hags could help her with that. On second thought, she wasn't sure if she trusted them to control their cravings around her young, so she would be on her own.
Still, a child could possibly offer her devotion she so badly craved. She missed the good old times when humans feared and loved her, when she heard her name spoken with reverence. She could have that again.
And thus, Beira became a mother of a half-mortal child.
Cursed beyond measure was Beira's fate, as her child did unspeakable deeds like, befouling itself several times a day or demanding food. She started to regret her decision to raise it and hags quickly offered to take the burden off her. Their constant desire to eat her child was the only reason why she kept it and not dropped it off at some human establishment to take the hardship off her hands. If they wanted it, for some reason, she wanted it too.
Beira settled on name Fooar - the same name she had given to her giant sons back in the days of power. As she saw nothing special about this child either, she did not believe it required a unique name.
Fooar was two-winters old already and had picked a nasty habit of holding on to her legs while she worked when she noticed magic for the first time.
She was digging in her trunk, looking for her favorite green veil when she pulled out the crystal Dagda had used against her. She held it in her hand and remembered the brilliant glow it held when her powers were within it. She was a victim of the greatest injustice.
"Mine," Fooar asked for it, stretching his plump hand toward the crystal.
Beira ignored the rude demand. If he couldn't ask her respectfully, then he didn't deserve for his request to even be considered. She continued searching, leaving the crystal on a table out of his reach while Fooar begged for it. Blissful silence filled the room as her son came to his senses and she finally found her veil. She reached to the table for the crystal only to find it empty.
After checking the room for where it might have fallen to, she finally found it in Fooar's hands. He sat on the stone floor, his bare legs peeking out of his gown, and turned it around in his fat fingers while his face made peculiar expressions.
She didn't know how the crystal got there but she wrenched it away from him. His face contorted into an ugly frown, his eyebrows bunched up together. Beira braced herself to hear a bout of insufferable wailing, but instead, he stretched out his hands toward her again.
"Mine!" he yelled.
She was about to yell back at him when she felt the crystal leave her hands. She watched with shock as it floated through the air to Fooar.
Beira stood up and glared at her child. He had magic! If Fooar ever exhibited any abilities, she thought it would be a water-affinity after his father, but this ability was hers. How unjust was it that while she remained mortal and powerless, her children were still able to inherit her magic? Her child was a godling when she was no longer a goddess!
Furious, she grabbed the crystal and he held on to it stubbornly.
"This magic does not belong to you," she roared at him. "It is mine!"
They both held on to the crystal while she could feel her despair claw itself into her, take hold of her heart, obscure all thought. She stopped trying to wrench it away but held on to it, wishing for it to contain once again what she had lost.
The feeling of a cold tear sliding down her cheek woke her up. She was Beira, not a common being. A goddess does not despair. A goddess acts.
"Fooar, son of Beira, let your power seep into this vessel," she said the words while they held the crystal together.
A slight glow appeared in the crystal. Disappointingly, it was nothing compared to the brilliant brightness when it held her divinity in it, but the fact that it worked was enough to lift her spirits.
Beira ripped the crystal from the boy's hands, ignored his protests and put it against her chest.
"Beira, mother of Fooar, this power is now yours. Let it claim you, seep into you. So you may become the most you can be."
She felt a warmth spread from the crystal through her hands and into her body and cried out from joy - it was magic. She had magic! The crystal was empty again and she dropped it to the ground.
Fooar stretched his chubby hands to it and stared at it, trying to make it fly but it did not budge. He cried and Beira smiled.
"At least something useful came out of you."
She held out her hand to the crystal but it didn't fly into her hands either. This perplexed her because she was sure that she had taken back Fooar's magic, she could feel it within her.
To test if she wasn't imagining it, she rummaged in her trunk for a rectangular box. She took it out and held it with care. She slowly opened the lid and stared at her most prized possession.
When she was at power, she imbued a small hammer with her creation magic to shape the land to her liking. While Bryde may have stolen her powers, she couldn't take what Beira had infused into this tool.
Beira hesitated with her hand over the hammer. It was most disappointing when she had tried to use it after the despicable crime took place. Her precious tool was useless in her hands. One needed to possess magic in order to wield it.
But she had to try now, so she took it in her trembling hand and without further hesitation, she struck the floor with it.
The floor trembled and a crack appeared where she had hit the stone, made by magic, not the impact.
One question was answered - she had magic, but it was too feeble to accomplish anything.
"You were too weak, Fooar," she complained to her son who was playing with the crystal again.
Beira held the hammer in her hand and started planning. Ever since she was robbed of her powers, she had tried everything to get them back, but her efforts were fruitless. Fooar's magic, as inadequate as it was, was the first step to regaining what she had lost. What she needed now was more powerful children.