Chapter 25: Time to Remember

"Freedom!" Beatrice screeched happily, shoving open the creaky door to Adelaide's cottage and dashing out into the broken, snowy land, ruffled red hair billowing out behind her.

The boys tailed her effervescent path, grinning brightly. Wirt thought he would actually run after the former bluebird for a short moment, all of his bunched up energy and emotions trying to escape into the world.

He saw the sun's rays beaming down on portions of the forest, departing the gloomy clouds in favor of mirth. Despite it all, the light stayed strong, fighting the darkness until his cold could not hold any longer, managing to keep her warmth through even the toughest of battles.

Beatrice came to a stop, twirling around to look at Wirt and Greg. She was smiling.

"Can we race?" the youngest of the group asked her, his eyes wide and excited.

"Why not?" The girl immediately took off again, exuberant laughter prompting the two to join.

Greg sped ahead first.

Wirt picked up his pace, staying one step behind his sibling to keep an eye out for him. There was a time where he would have ran faster than he did, solely for the sake of it, and another where he wouldn't have ran at all. But those times were past him.

o-o-o-o

"That was too easy." Beatrice stood triumphantly over the ridge created by the fallen tree, face flushed.

Greg and Wirt met her there, both panting from exertion. In Aberdale, they didn't do much running. Walking was easier on them.

"Woah, isn't this that tree I knocked over with my power?" the elephant-dressed kid asked after he caught his breath, patting its wet, rough bark. "Hey there, tree. I'm sorry for knocking you over. Are you enjoying the snow?"

Instead of answering, the frosty wood creaked under their friend's weight. Jason Funderburker croaked from his hiding place inside Greg's overalls.

"That's okay. I don't really like the cold either." He gave it a few more reassuring pets.

The older brother smirked, shaking his head. "Beatrice, you —"

"Could it be?"

The gasp of a familiar female made Wirt whip around. Standing before him, in the cast shadow of a leafless copse, was a girl. She was attired in a modest, simple green outfit, her black hair tied up in a white bonnet. Her pale face was turning a sentimental pink, eyes wide and meaningful.

"Lorna?"

"Wirt, it is you!" she exclaimed joyfully, bounding forward to engulf him in a hug and resting her head on his shoulder. "I have missed you so much. Auntie will be thrilled to hear you've returned."

He returned the affectionate hold, still somewhat shocked. Wirt's smile softened as he pulled away, watching her with gleaming eyes. "I'm glad to see you too."

"Aye. Hello, Greg," she greeted the child, who waved back, then turned to their companion. "And who are you?"

The redhead was fighting a scowl, irritation radiating off of her. "Beatrice," she responded tartly, offering none else.

"She's . . . a friend. She's been helping us to get home," Wirt said when Lorna shrank away. Youch. When did the mood get so sour?

"Nice to make your . . . acquaintance," the girl said softly, feeling rather awkward when Beatrice didn't say anything else. Lorna stepped closer to Wirt, glancing between him and the run-down icy house in the distance. "Please, follow me. We have much to talk about."

o-o-o-o

"Did you know that all the types of tea come from the same plant and that plant is good for your teeth? It's a rock fact!" Greg announced randomly, raising his painted stone high above his head.

Auntie Whispers tipped her head at that, sipping her own cup of the dark, steamy liquid. "Dear child, many teas originate from an evergreen shrub, but there are some that can be made without it. Have you had teas from flowers? Or perhaps a magical tea created with compressed ingredients with a potion in mind?"

The boy made a face of complete bewilderment, looking down at his drink. He dropped his rock beside it, speechless.

Lorna giggled. "Your brother is precious," she told Wirt, setting a tray of homemade cookies on the table.

"I've never seen him proven wrong like that," he said, amused. The male gratefully took a cookie, chewing on it. He looked at Beatrice, who was sitting in between him and Greg with her arms crossed as she squinted at her share of tea. She hesitated before picking it up, swallowing a mouthful. She didn't put it down.

"I must thank you and your brother again for saving Lorna from her wickedness," the witch began as her adopted niece sat down in the last chair, filling the table. "Life has been wonderful without that evil spirit plaguing her."

"We will be forever grateful," Lorna supplied, causing the other young female to gag.

When Wirt tried to glare at the redhead, Beatrice was making a face at the tea as if it had tasted bad or choked her. Honestly, what's your deal today? She had seemed so carefree when they woke. He thought back to their agreement the night before, growing irritated. I'll ask her about it later.

"Hmm . . . Do you like winter?" Greg piqued, having already started on a cookie of his own.

Auntie Whispers' expression was a dark one, hidden worry revealing itself in full force. "I'm afraid to admit that this freezing season should never had existed," she said, slowly, regret laced into her words. "It is my fault that the Beast exists at all, and I must do my best to warn you so that my actions do not affect more lives."

"Y-you mean the Witches of the Unknown? The ones in the story? Were you one . . . Are you one of them?" Wirt asked, shocked.

"Adelaide and I are fully responsible for what is happening," she admitted, again, accompanied with a nod. "I am not sure what the people have said to you. Each tale is strangely different . . . some exaggerated. But I have lived through with the consequences. And now I must ensure that you, your brother and the rest of the Unknown do not suffer for our wrongs."

"What . . . What happened?" he pressed. "Can you help us get home?"

"My powers are limited and my skills dwindled from using black magic all those years ago. If you are searching for aid in enchantment, I am contrite . . . I will be of no assistance," Auntie Whispers said, visage remorseful, "but I can tell you what I know in hopes that you might be able to use that knowledge."

Wirt sat back in his chair, not taking his eyes off of the old lady, trillions of thoughts and worries and questions exploding in his mind. He could hear Greg loudly chewing a cookie. No one bothered to scold him.

Drinking down her cup of tea and pouring a new one, the witch tipped her head to the window, as if begging the sky for memory. "We used to be enchantresses long ago, living innocently, together, helping people and animals from this very cottage. It was before even Lorna was born, when the Unknown was ruled by the King and Queen. Our mastery in white magic quickly reached the King's ears . . . He asked us if we would be interested in helping him create a monster in exchange for funding. At the time, I had believed that his intention was pure and worthwhile. I had seen how weak many souls were in the face of danger. But my sister, she wanted . . . to learn.

"Black magic. It was a dreadful thing, evil in every sense of the word. Years passed . . . the most horrible of my life. I saw Adelaide grow wicked, taking pleasure in macabre business. I, too, became . . . unlike my old self. It was . . . the toll." Her yellowed eyes widened, huge and oddly slitted pupils. An out-of-proportion, skin-toned hand brought the cup of tea to her blanched lips, the color strange and sickly.

Beginning to reclaim his mind's course, Wirt noted to himself — something he wasn't able to really do when they had met before — that she was obviously not beautiful. At least, not anymore. Auntie Whispers made it quite apparent what malicious practices could do to a person.

He took another bite of the homemade dessert, musing. The rose that blooms with a passionate fire wilts away to darkness, shriveled, with only a vague memory to guide it. One by one do the petals fall, until only a shred of life is left to flower again another day. He hummed in thought.

"The experiments were no better," Lorna continued the tale, offering a snippet, her face expressing wistful concentration. "I was young, just a babe, but I remember foggily the horrors of the attempts to create the Beast. My father was turned into a crow when he came across this cottage and I became wicked inside, due to Adelaide's want to experiment. Because of it, my father left me here to heal. Adelaide ran off not long after. They were . . . I recall my childhood being very . . . fearful. Many nights I could not sleep because of the horrid sounds coming from the basement but Auntie always assured me well. Even so, the evil spirit in me would not subside and its hunger was ravenous. I only . . . I lasted a few weeks before every creature was devoured, each monstrous mash of things that should never had met. Aye, they were truly gone from the morals of the world. And . . . I . . . was not much different. You are aware of what happened after that, my turtles. Shame plagued me ever since."

Wirt bit his lip. "I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"You are not to blame, Wirt," Lorna smiled in return, a flush of color on her pale cheeks. "Thanks to you and your brother, I am cured. Hopefully, I can pay the Unknown back for what I owe in the near future."

Beatrice cleared her throat, making everyone look at her. Her grin was strained. "Excuse me, but we are really on a tight schedule. So, if it's possible, could we get to the part about getting these guys home and beating the Beast? I wouldn't want to bother you any longer and those snowstorms are going to catch up to us soon . . ."

"I don't want to leave!" Gregory stated, voice muffled by a mouthful of cookie. He chugged it down with some tea, innocent orbs huge and pleading. "We just got here! And it's warm and toasty and Lorna and Auntie Whispers are extra nice to us! Please don't make us go!"

"Not yet, Greg," Wirt assured. "She's right, but we still need to find out what we can." He gazed at the witch, fingers absently tapping against the tableside. "Is there any way to cross into my world from here?"

The woman stayed quiet, sighing. "The gate clouded over long ago," she answered, gesturing into the air. "To create the Dark Lantern, I stole the magic from the night breeze. Not only would it fuel the needs to trap a soul such as the Beast's, it would protect the Unknown from vile witches like my sister. The price was severing the connection between our worlds. I am not very educated in the topic, but people and animals from your realm came and went frequently, without issue. After that magic was misplaced, they could only enter the Unknown, though without cognizance of their arrival. I do not know . . . if any of them were able to return."

Dread smacked him hard, his palms growing sweaty with nervousness. If even she doesn't know . . .

"Perhaps there is a possibility," Auntie Whispers said, "that if you were to extinguish the Dark Lantern then the magic will return. It is draining our lands, our essence. However, it is impossible to be rid of, though changing the form of it can render it useless."

"Um, you're saying that we have to interfere to get these guys home?" Beatrice asked, nose wrinkling in concentration. "Blow out the lantern. That was the goal this whole time. Not too hard."

Wirt knew she was kidding. They had attempted that already. Multiple times. "We'll have to try something different, then. Is there . . . anything we could do to fight him?"

"The Queen is the only one who poses a threat to the Beast," she denied, frowning. "Alas, she is tiring and is already doing what she can with the powers she was granted. I am unable to help you, either. No spell or incantation will surpass this cold, when we are so deep in it."

"The Queen of the Clouds?" Greg said with delight. "That queen? I remember her from my dream! I saved Cloud City from the ol' North Wind and she let me have a wish! She said that I could even go home!" His smile dropped. "But she wouldn't take Wirt, too, so I didn't go."

"You actually talked to her?" Beatrice gasped, eyes shining with determination. "Can you do it again?"

Greg made a face, shrugging.

The redhead hummed and stood from her seat, propping herself up with her hands and leaning over the table. "There isn't much hope out there from what I see, but we at least have an idea of what to do. We're going to head out before the next storm and ask the queen for help."

"Please don't," Lorna pleaded, worried orbs darting to Wirt. "She is already fighting the Beast and if you venture to speak to her, it may become a fatal distraction. Nay, I'd mind not bother."

"What? That's ridiculous! Do you expect us to wait it out?" she snapped, running her fingers frustratedly through her unbundled hair. Jason croaked helpfully.

"Beatrice . . ." the gnome-dressed boy coaxed, pausing until she looked him in the eye. "I'm sure we can do something ourselves without interfering with her. The Woodsman should still be around somewhere. Maybe we could . . . find him again?"

Everyone stared at her.

Wirt ineptly smiled.

The former bluebird made an expression that mirrored reluctant acceptance, perhaps defeat, before throwing herself away from the small gathering and dropping into a hasty curtsy. "If you'll excuse these knuckleheads and me, I believe we must be off."

"You should stay here for the night! It is nearing dusk!" Lorna attempted, standing and moving closer to them.

Undeterred, Beatrice made it to the door, prying the wooden slab open. She hissed through her teeth and shut it. Lorna was giving Wirt a hug.

"I do not want you to leave," the black-haired girl sighed. "I will miss you so much. Be safe."

Growling, the other teen trudged back over to them, arms crossed in front of her chest. "Nevermind then."

Wirt slowly pulled away, confused.

"It's started to snow already. Soon it'll be too dangerous to do what we need to," she explained with a huff, dropping back down into her chair and rolling her eyes when she thought Wirt wasn't looking. "We'll have to stay the night."

He smiled anyway.

"Joy! We shall make your stay spectacular!" the female clapped exuberantly, flashing a beaming grin at her heroes.

The gnome-dressed boy laughed in response. "Thanks."

"Yeah!" His brother made another happy grab for the cookies, gifting one to his frog. "Thank you!"

Beatrice absently nodded.

Auntie Whispers raised her cup of tea, pinkie bent, proper and pleased. "My children, you are all very welcome."

That took forever. xD Forgive the update pacing. Heh, my muse has dwindled severely, though I shall get chapters out to you all as quickly as I am able! :D I hope you enjoyed this little portion of the past, told from characters that we have awaited to see. The story has much in store for the future! Until then, please do leave a review!