Ch.25: The Deadliest Poison is a Belladonna! A True Lesson in Witchcraft!
"Clara, I just don't feel right doing this."
"I understand, but…I can't risk it."
A six-year-old Gwyn sat outside her mother's bedroom, peeking through the keyhole. She watched her bedridden mother converse with the strange Jolteon she invited over with a hint of fear in her eyes. She watched the Jolteon as he removed his hat and ran his paw through his fur.
"I make enough money to take care of two rambunctious boys. It wouldn't be too inconvenient for me to watch over Gwyn. Besides, what you're suggesting might be worse for her. You know, eventually, the curse will take its hold on you. You won't be around to protect her forever."
"That's why I called you. Morgan and Ava are busy with their lives, and I can't ask Alex or Willow to look after her. Their lives are just as reckless as our younger days. It wouldn't be the life I want for her."
"Gwyn can live with my family. She'll love Wes and Flint. They'll be like brothers to her." Gwyn saw the Jolteon frown. "She needs to interact with people her own age. She can't be cooped up in your potion shop for the rest of her life. Do you understand what that might do to her? This isn't how a kid should be living. It's not normal."
"Gwyn isn't normal, Garret," Clara stated firmly. "She's a Mew. A Mew! Garret, I slept with a god and had his child! Do you understand how much that freaked me out? I love Gwyn to bits, but how is the rest of the world going to react when they find out there's a demigod kid running around? You know there are people out there that would take issue with that, or even try to use her. I wish Mew could help me, but this is the first in a very long time something like this happened. He's not allowed to see me OR Gwyn."
"There's no witch, purist, or whatever in the world that could scare me. If anyone comes after Gwyn, I will put an end to it."
"She got hurt because I wasn't paying attention to her. You said your kids are a handful, right? No matter how powerful you are, you're still a Pokémon. You can make mistakes—" Gwyn flinched as she watched Clara cough violently into her hands. Clara trembled, but continued in a hoarse tone. "Garret, that…horrible woman cursed my daughter and forced me to take on her curse just so she could get rid of me. She wants Gwyn's soul. Besides, you're not always home. Vivian certainly can't protect her. And what are Wes and Flint supposed to do? They're children! Witches will do anything to get what they want. She might kill them to get to Gwyn."
"But what makes here any safer than my home?"
"Ever since that witch entered the city, the mayor employed more priests as guards. She may be a witch, but she's powerless against the priests. Gwyn can stay safe here. And you can teach her how to fight should she return to collect Gwyn."
"Clara, this is a bad idea. What if something bigger comes? Unless the city employed the strongest priest they could find, tripling security won't stop something akin to an invasion. You said it yourself, a witch will do anything to score its prey. Do you really think shutting Gwyn away is the best choice?"
"I don't want it to be my only choice, but the less people know about Gwyn, the better. At least she'll be here. She can run the shop, provide for herself, and do good to help people. My reputation will tank once word of my dabbling in witchcraft gets out, but it's better than Gwyn getting unwanted attention."
Garret sighed. "I really shouldn't agree to this, but…I'll respect your decision. However, once you do…pass on, I will try and stop by the city every other month to check on her. If she needs me, I'll be there. If anything bad happens to her, I'm taking her home with me. No ifs, ands, or buts. Understand?"
"I understand. Thank you, Garret. I'm really sorry for putting you through this."
"I just wish I could do more for you."
Gwyn stepped away from the door and turned away as Garret came outside. He looked down at the shivering green Mew. She froze as he placed his paws on her shoulders and turned her around. She whimpered and covered her face, but eased up as Garret gently brushed her cheek and offered her a warm smile.
"Hi, sweetie. I'm Garret."
Gwyn looked up at him, making soft weeping noises. "Is m-my mommy going to—"
"Shh, shh, shh," Garret hushed, pulling her into his forelegs. "Listen, your mommy wants me to teach you how to use your magic. It's a lot of hard work, but she feels it's what's best for you right now."
"I…I'm scared."
Garret smiled sadly. "I know the world may look scary right now, but I promise, it's not as scary as it looks. You've got to be strong. When you're older, you'll be able to conquer those fears and master them."
Gwyn sniffled, then pressed her face into his shoulder and cried. Garret patted her back and shushed her gently.
"You are a rarity of this world, Gwyn. It doesn't have to be a bad thing. I promise you, one day, you will be loved by those who want to protect you. You just need to open up once you're ready."
"When…W-When will I know?"
"You won't. Sometimes, you need to take a leap of faith."
The rustling leaves filled the cool, silent night as Gwyn apprehensively followed Medusa through the forest. She fidgeted with her nightcap, keeping her eyes glued to the ground. The oasis sensed her internal distress, swaying and gravitating toward her. The remnants of sleep had left her system as her heart pumped blood through her, exciting her nerves.
She gripped her PJs and took a deep breath. Calm down, Gwyn. M-Maybe she's just going to teach you how to defend against witchcraft. Y-Yeah, that must be it. She gritted her teeth. But then why say I'm becoming a true witch? I don't want that. It…I can't become a witch!
She dared a look at Medusa. The dark veil of night seemed to make the Serperior more intimidating than when she first arrived, despite her careless attitude. She slithered with poise, no staggering in her movements. No longer did Gwyn see the blind witch who recklessly crashed into misplaced objects and screeched absurd expressions at the drop of a hat. She was alone with a witch, possibly a powerful one.
Medusa claimed she had no intentions to take Gwyn's soul, but witches lied all the time. Nothing they said could be taken at face value. Everything they did served to benefit their needs in the end. Gwyn could at least feel safe in the company of her friends, but now she might be at the mercy of the older woman. She wished she woke Flint before they left.
"I sense your tension." Gwyn snapped out of her trance and covered her face behind the nightcap. Medusa sighed. "Ferocious on the battlefield, yet surprisingly fragile. I could've mistaken you for a child. A very mature child."
Gwyn gulped. "I'm sorry."
"No fault of your own. It is simple the fault of the modern day. The perversion of witchcraft's legacy. I don't blame you for your misinformation, or your fears."
Gwyn frowned. "I-I really don't know what you're talking about."
"You will see soon enough, young one." Medusa tilted her head over her shoulder. "You're very talented in making potions. I overheard you and Venus talking about it earlier today."
Gwyn scratched her nape shyly. "I learned a lot from my mom."
"I appreciate you offering Venus a job once she's old enough." Medusa sighed. "I wish I could provide a better life for her, but the world looks down on witches at first sight. It's irritating. No matter what you're doing, people assume you're up to no good. I admit, my own meddling in witchcraft yielded unsavory results, but that's purely to my consequence, no one else."
"What do you mean?"
Medusa pointed her staff at her closed eyes. "No evil cursed my eyes. I did that to myself. The present has a funny way of distorting fact and fiction when the past has thousands of years of records to be misconstrued. You, however, are a different case. You experienced modern day witchcraft and trembled at its horrible power. You at least have an excuse, but not after tonight."
Gwyn gulped. "That sounds like a threat."
"I mean you no harm, Gwyn. All I want to do is show you what you're missing out on. You are a rarity in this world. You may just be the strongest."
"The…strongest?" Before Gwyn could ask her to elaborate, a cluster of trees parted for them. Gwyn squinted past the clearing, then gasped. "Oh my…"
An open space of soft earth sat before her, with a pentacle carved into the ground. On the five corners of the star, torches illuminated the darkness in a blue light, their embers dancing along the breeze, circling the pentacle. Surrounding the circle were ten scarecrow-like stands, each adorning a different, horrific mask. Their eyeholes glowed in the same light as the torches.
Gwyn felt the blood drain from her face. Holy me, I'm about to be sacrificed.
Medusa slithered into the pentacle and coiled into a sitting position. She tapped the ground with her staff. "Have a seat."
"N-No, thank you!" Gwyn declined, backing away while trying to make the cross wheel symbol with her hands.
Medusa groaned. "I'm not putting up with this." She struck the ground, creating a spark of green magic with her staff.
A vine struck from the forest and shoved Gwyn into the pentacle, knocking her onto her face. "Ow." She pushed herself up, then shrieked once she saw she was in the circle. She tried to run, but another vine popped out of the ground and bound her legs together, knocking her down once more. She clawed into the dirt and tried to drag herself free. "Please don't take my soul! I'm begging you! I want to live! I don't want to be erased!"
"Gwyn Belladonna!" She froze as Medusa's voice boomed through the forest. The earth itself quivered from the intensity, as did the vines binding her legs. She shakily looked over her shoulder and shrunk under Medusa's closed glare. "It is time to put an end to this."
Gwyn covered her face. "What do you want from me?!"
"To teach you about the true nature of witch—"
"I don't give a DAMN about witchcraft!" Gwyn screamed, tears pouring down her face. "Why would I want to associate myself with the very thing that killed my mother?! No, the very thing that probably devoured her soul!" She covered her eyes and sobbed at the top of her lungs. "My mother isn't even in the afterlife! She had to perform your horrible dark arts to save me, now her soul is doomed to eternal torment! Her soul is probably gone! Why, just WHY, are you pushing me to trust in something that took her away from me?! Why, why, why, why…"
Gwyn flipped onto her stomach and cried into her arms. The vines released her legs, but she didn't care. The pain she tried so hard to bury down came surging back up. She was too young to fully understand the consequences of her mother's sacrifice, but she knew now what she gave up just for Gwyn to live. It was Gwyn's fault she had to give up her life.
Clara Belladonna, the woman who could've changed the world with her potions, gave herself up to let some naïve demigod live in fear of meeting the same fate.
"S-Sometimes…I wish I was never born, just so Mom could still be alive," Gwyn whimpered. "She would still be here. Maybe if she was, maybe she could've stopped Alex. Maybe the original Team Ravenfield wouldn't have broken up. Maybe Flint…Flint wouldn't have gotten hurt. I just…I never wanted to be special."
A tail slithered around and wiped a tear from under her eye. It lifted Gwyn by the chin and turned her around, meeting with Medusa's closed eyes. "Oh, sweet child…" She wiped the tears from the Mew's eyes, then coiled her into a hug. "Don't think such horrible thoughts. You are not a burden on others. You are a precious gift."
Gwyn sniffled and wiped her nose with her nightcap. "I don't feel like a gift."
"Your mother loved you, I'm sure," Medusa whispered. "She did what she had to for your sake, because she knew the world would need someone like you. You are the child of the true progenitor: Mew. The original, the blueprint of life. That is something to be proud of."
Gwyn closed her eyes, stifling her weeps. "What's s-so special about being me?"
"Do you know of the first child born of a god?"
"T-The child of…Mesprit."
"They were revered and loved, but also hunted and sought after for their power. That is the burden they bared. As such, history says their bloodline was wiped out for good, for everyone's sake."
"I-I met Uxie once. He said…it was true."
Medusa nodded. "Though, Arceus doesn't take kindly to his own children mingling with mortals. Who knows how true Uxie's records are? Or perhaps he kept it secret per Arceus' request. The world may never know if that bloodline was truly destroyed." Medusa smiled. "But you? You gave a chance to bring new blood to the world."
Gwyn shuffled away from her and looked down. "Just to make my own descendants targets?"
"There always comes a time when the reward outweighs the risks. I don't think you fully see what your existence holds for us. Mesprit was the Goddess of Emotion. You, however, are the child of the progenitor. That is something the world hasn't seen since the conception of our world. Mew is the first of our world. We were made in his likeness, and expanded into our own selves. We became something different and lost touch with that original conception. What does that make you, though? In an age where magic is at its highest, where the child of the progenitor walks among the earth with us?"
Gwyn gripped her PJs. "It just sounds like you're saying my mom gave herself up because I'm supposed to do something important. I'm sorry, but that doesn't change the fact that—"
"Gwyn, if your mother was forced to take part in those dark arts, I'm sorry. But she didn't die at the hands of witchcraft."
Gwyn glared. "What do you know?"
"Because I'm a true witch. What you call a witch in this modern time is a perversion of the original magicians of this world."
The tension in Gwyn's posture loosened, as did her scowl. She blinked, then looked up at Medusa. "W…What do you mean?"
Medusa took a deep breath, then traced a circle in the ground between them. Green flames rose into a swirl of embers. "There is a theory, beyond the dimensions that overlap in Mysto, that outside our realm exist other worlds. Worlds with altered histories, resources, and fundamental laws of the universe. We exist in a world where the nature of our species was…corrupted, in a sense. Though, I don't say corrupted to sound negative. It's more like we were influenced by the developments of our gods.
"Originally, we were merely creatures born of great power, hosting fragments of the original power. Our types were created from that power used to mold us. For what purpose, though? Only the gods know. But I don't believe we were destined for the blessing that would shape the world we live in. Mysto is the original creation, the original source of their power. Other regions can only gawk at what our land is like. In time, we may even branch beyond Mysto and spread our magic through those of farther lands waiting to have their potential unlocked. Maybe some have, but it would be a long time before magic became the norm of this world.
"Still, in that time, no one knew of its existence until one man broke the norms of the past and tapped into the residual pool of that godly power."
Gwyn frowned. "Dougal Ravenfield."
"Yes. Cicely informed me of the…unique blood Flint Ravenfield and his brother carry. They have quite the history with this world."
"Does this involve Dougal?"
"Not directly, but you can see him as an influence. His dabbling in magic gave form to a new way of living. Though rejected by most, the most curious of our ancestors sought to study what Dougal promised. Of course, magic was still a baffling concept to accept, and none of those who sought to learn could harness it through themselves. They simply didn't know about the internal magic in some Pokémon, or how to release it.
"But then, countless years of observation had led to a most unusual discovery. The magic flowing through the ground itself. As magic became more known, the changes in the environment were observed. It was altering what our world once was. Those who listened closest have gone on record saying they heard the voice of Mysto itself."
"The voice of Mysto?" Gwyn asked.
"As they listened to the land, they could hear the heartbeat of life flowing through the magic. Mysto, the birthplace of magic and the origin of creation itself as told in legend, is the one true source. The remnants of the gods remained untouched for eons before being unearthed by one curious Pokémon, and expanding onward through history. Mysto is so much more than a magical land. It's the voice of the gods themselves. Their power, speaking to use, right under our noses."
Gwyn looked down and ran her hand through the dirt. "The gods themselves…"
"These Pokémon who dedicated lifetimes toward uncovering the truth developed practices to draw out the magic found through the ground. Many methods were tested, many failed. All in an attempt to hear that voice and call back to it. Every stone, every tree, every flower, and every piece of dirt and rubble across this land has a history and a voice that wants to be heard. These magical scholars wanted them to have that voice.
"Then they discovered something. The land does not speak in words like us, but understands the rhythm of our wills. To put it simply, they found a way to communicate with the magic in the ground by using a different type of language. They listened, analyzed, and replicated the heartbeat of the magic, and matched it back. It took decades, maybe even centuries, to crack the language barrier, but we found a way to speak to the magic through the earth. We drew power from its power. A symbiosis of trust, where one cares for the upkeep of its growth, and the other lends its strength.
"On that day, we've memorialized this understanding as the sacred language of nature. Or, as it's more commonly referred to today, this is true witchcraft."
Gwyn stared at Medusa in stunned silence. The tears that once flowed from her eyes had dried, leaving them red and slightly irritable. She rubbed under her eyelid, then narrowed her eyes. "Witchcraft is…the language of nature?"
Medusa nodded. "It's nothing more than ordinary Pokémon like me communicating with the magic in the atmosphere. Its beautiful rhythm draws witches like me to play a melody and serenade the wonder of its eternal dance."
Gwyn looked at her hand, holding a wisp of her magic in her palm. "But…I've done that my whole life. Nature always seemed to gravitate towards me. I felt like I could understand it."
"That is witchcraft itself."
Gwyn grimaced. "I can't believe this. I…I'm a witch?"
Medusa shook her head. "I wouldn't go that far. You are more like a young child that the land feels it needs to protect. In comparison to your father, you are but an infant in Mysto's eyes. But you have something no witch ever had."
"What's that?"
"We communicate with the land to draw out its power. But you? You are the sacred language of nature. You, the child of the progenitor, was born with a natural affinity to the land itself. Your aura draws in the very nature that seeks to protect you, because they see you as not only an infant to be protected, but the whole of their fractured power. They see you as they do your father, a god that has come back to this world."
Gwyn narrowed her eyes. "I always wondered why I had that much influence over plants, but this is…unreal."
"If I were to be so bold, I'd say you are the embodiment of magic. Though this is the power of the gods, you have been its master during the new age of magic. I'd even go so far as to call you…the Goddess of Witchcraft."
"Goddess of Witchcraft…" Gwyn sighed and covered her face. "This is a lot to take in. My whole life, witchcraft was seen as a dark art that pollutes the value of magic. Why am I now just learning about this?"
"Because that's all the world chooses to remember about its practices." Medusa shook her head. "History warps over time. What's common sense now was something completely different fifty or a hundred years ago. Things change so much that the original meaning loses value, sometimes for better and sometimes for worse. Thing is, witchcraft and magic were synonymous with each other. Equally recognized, and equally controversial. Though forgotten to history, Dougal Ravenfield left a mark on the world, causing it to distrust the use of these gifts. Time birthed new magicians with their own powers, but they were seen as no different to witches. It was all the same. It was an evil power that had to be suppressed. You can never truly suppress a Pokémon's curiosity.
"There reached a point, however, where that relation split in two. No longer just a strange power, but viewed separately as magic and witchcraft."
Gwyn glared. "You mean the Grand Imperium Age."
"A time where magic became necessary and incorporated into our culture solely for our survival. That is when the split occurred."
"But why? If they're so similar, why was witchcraft ostracized?"
Medusa sighed. "I fear that's a long story. Perhaps not for tonight, but another time. For now, I want to teach you the truth about witchcraft. However, I will say this much. The dark arts you speak of are a perverse form of communing with nature. Rather than communicating with the magic through the earth, certain witches sought a different power below the earth. A realm of demons and brimstone that draw in Pokémon seeking great power."
"Just like Callista," Gwyn murmured.
"The risk of fraternizing with demons is that they demand more than just menial sacrifice like energy or respect to the land. A soul to them is a lifetime of satisfaction. A meal that satiates their appetites for a millennium and beyond. To keep the Pokémon they make contracts with under control, they barter the soul as a hostage. Normally, most witches don't worry about the soul exchange. Some witches are smart enough to make deals with demons who have less demanding requirements. Some just want to spread destruction, others demand a snack. If you complete the whole of your contract, you get your soul back and keep your magic free of strings."
"So, not all witches have their souls devoured?"
"As long as they set out to complete what is requested by the demon they signed with. The tasks can be impossible, however, so it's up to the witch to decide how to continue from there." Medusa glared. "What I'm saying is that there's a chance your mother didn't have her soul destroyed. If she found the right demon necessary to transfer your curse over and met their requirements in a timely matter, her soul may have continued to live on."
"But there isn't a guarantee," Gwyn mumbled sadly.
"It's better than thinking she's gone forever. I'm sure your mother was a smart woman."
Gwyn narrowed her eyes, then sighed. "Then who among the demons would desire a Mew?"
"The soul of a legendary is a delicacy no demon could ever have. I may have to research the books I've gathered over the years to find out which demon would so boldly make a deal like that." Medusa sighed. "Do you get what I mean, young Mew? Though witches are shamed as evils of the world, we are much more. We were the original magic users. We were the first to commune with the land and understand the intricacies of change. Mysto, this beautiful land, has provided so much after the Grand Imperium Age. I bet your mother wanted you to live, not just because she loved you dearly, but because she believed you would be the bridge to mend history."
Gwyn sat in silence for a moment, letting it all sink in. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The trees and bushes swayed in rhythm to her breathing. The heartbeat of life. In some way, she could always hear it. It was so normal to her that she never asked what it meant.
She opened her eyes and looked up teary-eyed at Medusa. "This whole time, I've been practicing the true art of witchcraft, and cursed its name all because of a falsehood." She bowed her head and shuddered. "I'm so sorry I thought poorly of you and Venus, Ms. Medusa. You've been so kind to us, and I treated you like monsters, even if I didn't show it."
Medusa patted Gwyn's head. "You have nothing to apologies for, my child. I'm just happy I could lift the fog of your troubles."
"I'm still scared of witchcraft, but not in the same way I was before," Gwyn admitted. "I just wish my mom didn't have to pay for it."
Medusa smiled. "I have high hopes she is fine. If she's just as smart as you, she found a way to cheat the devil."
Gwyn giggled. "My mom is pretty cool." She frowned. "What do I do now?"
"Now, you speak to Mysto."
"Speak to Mysto?"
"You may have a talent for attracting plants to you, but the whole of Mysto is so much more. Nature itself is your ally. Listen to its voice, and it'll call back to you." Medusa stood up and slithered out of the pentacle.
Gwyn blinked, then looked down at the pentacle. She listened to the wind and rustling leaves, but focused closer on the magic flowing beneath her. The sounds she heard all her life, the ones that whispered to her out of obligation. As she stared at the magic, she considered how little she scratched the surface of her capabilities.
Her visit to Ironworks Kingdom stood out the most to her. She considered herself strong by all means, but that test Queen Margo implemented to face the strongest among her team caught her off guard. She expected Wes or Griffin to be the strongest of their group, but never herself. Her magic ran deep, deeper than she ever dared to go without assistance from her experiments. The purpose of the magicans was to force her godly aura up to the surface for temporary boosts. She never truly unleashed that nigh infinite well of power in a fight. She always had her plants to lend aid.
To think, the extent of her connection with nature ran deep than Mysto's flora. There was so much more she could do, waiting to be unleashed if she called out to Mysto. She often forgot that she wasn't a regular mortal because she was loved and accepted by her friends. She felt like their equal and never thought of herself on the status of godhood.
Just how much stronger could she be?
Gwyn took a deep breath, then extended her arm. "Mysto, let me hear your voice. I want to see you for what you are. Show me your power." She pressed her hand into the dirt.
She waited in silence, feeling the stir of magic coursing below, then shuddered to a pulse. Almost like a heartbeat. Her eyes widened in awe as a bluish-green glow permeated under her hand, then stretched outward through the ground in a web-like pattern of cracks and veins. The patterns raced up the trees, bushes, and even Medusa, pulsing with their unique heartbeat. Gwyn gasped as her hair rose and her fur illuminated in the same light. Her red eyes flashed with a spark of bluish-green, a film of light shimmering over her irises.
From the veins in the ground, tiny orbs of light rose and scattered through the wind, almost singing a soft tune with their gentle hums. A cluster gathered around Gwyn and circled around her as she remained entranced by the rhythm of the oasis.
Through her eyes, thousands of images flew past her vision, as if she was seeing through the flora of the oasis at once. For a moment, she could see everything.
Ambrosine grumbled as she filled a glass of milk and closed the fridge door. She was having trouble getting to sleep, her mind racing too much with concerns regarding Gwyn and the confession. A glass of milk always soothed her. Warm milk specifically, but she was too tired to deal with that.
She turned and walked back to her mat, sipping her milk, then froze as light erupted through the floor. "GAH!" She jumped back, dropping and spilling her milk, and gawked at the bluish-green markings stretching over the floor, even going up her body. She held her hands up and stared at them. "Ooookay, no more late night snacking for me."
"Ugh…" Flint sat up and rubbed his head. "Will someone turn down that…light?" He blinked his weary eyes and stared at the glowing floor. "What the…?" He lifted his paw and saw the markings over it.
"What's going on?" Andre asked as he sat up, noting his own markings.
"It's Gwyn." The three looked up to the second story and saw Venus, dressed in a onesie and nightcap. Since she wasn't at ground level like the rest of them, there were no markings over her. "She's connecting with nature."
"What the hell?!"
Outside of the oasis, the trio of Isidore, Barrett, and War found themselves covered in strange bluish-green markings. Barrett was patting his arms furiously while Isidore stared at her own in curiosity. War just glared at the oasis in silence.
"What the actual hell is going on over there?!" the irate Lombre growled.
Isidore narrowed her eyes, then picked up her staff with her tail hand. "Most peculiar."
Further out, a meter out of range from the glowing marks, an old Alakazam observed the Oasis Zone with a smile across his lips. "Looks like you're finally tapping into your roots, young Gwyn."
Gwyn remained stunned by the overwhelming power emerging through the ground, eyes wide with shock, yet intrigue. With some hesitance, she finally removed her hand from the ground and stood up. The light gradually faded, returning the oasis back to darkness. She stumbled backward and clasped her aching head.
"That…was a rush," she said dizzily.
Medusa smiled. "I'm impressed, Gwyn. You drew out more power from the earth than I could've ever imagined. I mean it, I've never seen another witch pull off a feat like that. Granted, I don't see many witches who practice actual witchcraft, but that's still impressive regardless. What did it feel like?"
"It…felt like I was connected to everything for a moment," she huffed. "There was so much going on, I didn't have time to process what I was looking at. I did feel Ambrosine, Flint, Venus, and Andre's presences. Those were the only ones I recognized. There was…one more that felt familiar, but I couldn't quite place who."
"Even so, you were amazing, Gwyn." Medusa slithered over and patted her head. "You have the makings of becoming a true witch. As long as you keep being you, the magic of the land is yours to command. Both caster and magic working together in harmony, better than I could've ever imagine."
Gwyn felt the magic tingling through her fingers and smiled. "Somehow, it felt…right, like I was missing out on a huge part of my life."
Medusa patted her head again. "You've always had the talent to become a true witch, Gwyn. It just took you sometime to come to terms with it. There's nothing wrong with embracing your godhood. You are both a mortal with loving friends and a goddess with great power. And you have the kindest heart of all the land. That is why nature feels so strongly to protect you. You are a precious treasure this world needs, someone to look up to."
Gwyn blushed and played with her hair meekly. "Thank you."
"For that, I part to you a gift for the night. Something of a rare item a lover of plants such as yourself may take interest in." Medusa twirled her staff in her tail and struck the ground.
Gwyn backed up as a plant sprung from the ground. A bush covered in small, rounded black berries with a purplish tinge. Gwyn blinked at it, then picked on off. "They look like blueberries almost." She went to plop one in her mouth, but Medusa caught her wrist.
"I wouldn't eat that," Medusa warned. "Are you familiar with the origin of the atropa belladonna? A very poisonous plant found long ago, bringing disaster to those who foolishly eat one unaware. These, however, are their descendants, infused and molded by the magic in the ground. The rarest poison, and the deadliest. Not even your high tolerance for poison could stomach this. At best, you would be aching and begging for death for weeks."
Gwyn held the berry away from her face, then asked, "Why show me this?"
"Though I speak of the true nature of witchcraft, I can't deny its dark side. There are certain risks all witches like myself must take when communing with the land. Magic is a gift from the land, but it can be a weapon if used correctly. A berry like this is a deceiving, innocent fruit that catches people off guard with its vicious poison. The deadliest of magical plants, the Nightshade's Lament."
"Nightshade's Lament," Gwyn mumbled as she spun the berry between her fingers.
"With your love of plants and your experiments, perhaps you could find some use for it. Be careful, though. I doubt any experimentation would remove the magical properties in that berry. Please, do not misuse the power of that poison."
Gwyn narrowed her eyes. "Is there an antidote?"
"I've been studying that berry during my time here. I'm still in the early stages, but creating an antidote is possible. Use it however you see fit for yourself."
Gwyn took a deep breath, then nodded. "I will."
"I'll pick some and give you a bagful in the morning. I'm glad we were able to have this talk, Gwyn."
Gwyn parted some hair from her face, then smiled. "So did I." She hugged around Medusa's snake body. "Thank you, Medusa. This…This means a lot to me."
"What will you do now?"
"I don't know yet."
"Hmm." Medusa coiled around her in a loving embrace. "Get some sleep. I'm sure you have a lot to think about in the morning. Soon enough, I will teach you everything I know about the true history of witches. You have my word."
"Thank you…"
From the bushes, Flint, Andre, Ambrosine, and Venus watched the pair as they embraced. Andre scratched his head. "Well, I'll be—I can't believe that was Gwyn," he whispered.
"So, that was true witchcraft we just witnessed," Flint surmised.
Venus nodded. "That's what Granny had taught me my whole life."
Ambrosine sighed. "I can't believe you guys had to deal with all that mistrust over a misunderstanding like this. I feel kind of bad myself."
Flint closed his eyes and sighed. "Gwyn's always been afraid of witches. To think this whole time, she practically was one. What a strange turn of fate." He smiled. "I'm proud of her. I'm really proud of her."
Ambrosine stared at Flint, a hint of jealousy in her eyes, but looked forward with a smile. "I guess it's nice she's steadily conquering her fear." What excuse do I have, being afraid of a gentle soul like her?
Andre stood up and shook his tail. "We should head back before Gwyn returns. Don't want to ruin the moment peeking through the bushes."
"Fair." Ambrosine stood up and yawned. "But first, I have to clean some milk off the floor," she groaned as she trudged back.
Flint bent down and allowed Venus to climb onto his back before following them. He took one look back at Gwyn, noting the relaxed, cheery smile he fell in love with proudly shining across her face. He smiled, sighed with content, and hurried after the others.