Chapter Five

As Huntress Wizard related this, she did not cry. But Finn did. Tears streamed down his face as he spoke.

"That's...that's not fair, man…" said Finn.

"No. But such is fate."

Huntress Wizard spoke in a drab monotone, her face utterly impassive, her body as still as a rock. It seemed to Finn she was afraid to move, lest she break her composure and start crying, too.

Finn sniffed, and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I have mother issues, is all. I never knew my bio-mom and dad, growing up."

"Well I'm done crying about it. As far as I'm concerned, it was another life ago."

Finn nodded, and they were silent for a while.

"So what did you do then?"

"I sat there and cried a while, and then I carried my mother's body back home. Pablo's mother came to check in later that evening. She helped a lot. She contacted my aunt, and together they arranged the funeral. That was a few days later. That was where I next saw Pablo."


The funeral was held in a clearing at the edge of the forest. A couple dozen people turned out for it, most of them fellow hunters and colleagues of her mother, most of them strangers to Heather. An aunt and a few cousins she hadn't spoken to in years showed up as well.

Of course, he was here, too. Along with his mother, and some of his half-brothers. He stayed away, and never looked directly at her. That suited her just fine. She didn't want to look at him either.

Heather just sat off to the side in her new black dress and quietly sobbed into a handkerchief. Now and then someone would come up to her, introduce themselves or remind her of their acquaintanceship, try and say a few encouraging words. Heather mostly just nodded and said nothing. Heather's Aunt Hazel, her mother's half-sister whom she barely remembered, offered for her to come and stay with her. Heather gave a non-committal answer.

In truth, Heather was having difficulty thinking about her future in concrete terms. Not only was she orphaned at fourteen, her mother had been the first, and now basically only, person she had ever loved. Now she loved no one.

The ceremony was wrapping up. Everyone came around to pay their last respects. Heather took one last, painful look at her mother's face, immaculate in her casket, then tore her eyes away. She looked away as they sealed it shut and lowered it into the ground. The gravediggers proceeded to fill in the hole.

It was at that time that Pablo decided to approach her.

She felt him before she saw him. He stood a few feet away, hesitating before saying anything. Heather said nothing and waited, hoping he would go away. He didn't though, and finally he spoke.

"Heather, I...there are no words…"

Heather gave a long sigh.

"There sure aren't."

"I'm...I'm so sorry. Could you ever forgive me?"

"You've got some kind of nerve, Pablo, asking me that. Where was that nerve three days ago?"

She heard a sharp intake of breath. Clearly her words had had some impact. Though, she soon felt that refusing to look at him was undignified. She stood up from her chair and looked him full in the face.

There he stood, fidgeting in an ill-fitting black suit. He faltered and looked away.

"Look at me, Pablo," said Heather.

He did so, and his face was the portrait of grief and uncertainty.

"My mother is dead, and you're still alive. I'd give anything for it to be the other way around."

Pablo winced, and gathered his composure.

"Heather, that's not fair," he said.

"No, it isn't."

"Oh, cut me a break, Heather!" he snapped, "Yes, I'm afraid of snakes, okay? Have you ever seen a hydra? All of its heads are like giant snakes!"

He was shaking now, and the words seemed to pour from him.

"I got separated from the group on that hunting trip with my dad! A hydra chased me, and I had to hide in a hollow log, and while it was stomping around looking for me it was talking about how it was going to kill me when it found me! I had nightmares for-"

"Shut up!" Heather screamed, "You ran away! My mother died to protect you!:

"Well that was her dumb idea!"

Heather gasped, and Pablo's face fell as he realized what he had just said.

"No, Heather, I didn't mean-"

She slapped him hard across the face.

"Stay away from me, you creep!"

She turned to run away, but he seized her by the wrist. She wrenched free from his grip and stumbled.

"Heather, please-"

"No!"

She ran into the forest, and Pablo followed, crying her name all the while.

He was actually chasing her. It was almost comical.

Heather had never worn heels before, so she kicked off her shoes as she ran. Branches

tore her dress and her skin, but still she ran, heedless of the physical pain. More than anything, she did not want to turn and face Pablo again.

Still she ran, and his voice faded, becoming more and more distant.

She emerged from the trees and found herself by the river. She could not hear Pablo's voice at all. Exhausted, she fell to her hands and knees on the muddy riverbank and cried.

Minutes passed, and Heather sensed she was not alone.

She sat up and frantically looked around. Though she saw no one, there was a disturbance in the center of the river. The water was churning and frothing, as if something were rising from the depths. A pale yellow glow shone from the water.

Frightened, Heather leapt to her feet and stood back. A massive humanoid form breached the surface, great volumes of water streaming down its sides.

No, she realized, the thing was made of water itself.

The creature was a roughly humanoid-shaped mound of boulders and rotted branches suspended in a mass of unnaturally flowing water. It towered nearly ten feet above the water, while its lower body, if it existed, was obscured. The torso was mostly solid, and incorporated three crumpled metal drums painted hazard yellow, leaking a glowing substance. The arms, meanwhile, were little more than thick pseudopods of water. A teardrop shaped mass of water formed the head, complete with two glowing yellow eyes.

Looking into those eyes was a vertiginous experience. They gave the impression of unfathomable age and weariness, ineffable wisdom and serenity, and an inexplicable and frightening familiarity.

He spoke in a voice as thick and deep as grinding boulders.

"Hello, daughter. Why is it that you cry?"

"Daughter?" cried Heather, thunderstruck, "Did you just call me daughter?"

"You are mine. I can feel it."

He closed his eyes, and made a deep rumbling noise.

"Yes, I am he, your father. The Ancient Sleeping Guardian of the Glowing River, finally awoken. Your mother called me 'Keith.'"

Heather had imagined meeting her father one day, but never like this. Not in the lowest point in her life. She stood there staring up at him, dumbly. The Ancient Sleeping Guardian of the Glowing River, or "Keith," continued.

"You are Tabitha's daughter, and your tears awoke me from my slumber. Tabitha, Tabitha, my love, where is she? Is she well? Tell me, please, why is it you cry?"

"She's dead," said Heather.

Keith's eyes rolled back in his head and he moaned with grief. His moan was so deep and loud it shook the earth, and caused Heather to cover her ears. Finally he stopped.

"Oh, I knew it. I knew it at once. Tabitha, my love, shall I never again hear her voice? Will she never again bathe within my banks?"

He paused, and seemed to notice Heather again. He focused on her, and drew closer.

"Alas...mortal woman. I knew this day would come. Now all I have is you, my darling daughter. But, alas! You're nearly grown. Tell me, what did she name you?"

"Heather. My name is Heather."

"Heather…" said Keith, "Heather, my dear. I'm so sorry I did not get to see you grow up. You must think me a derelict."

"No. No, Dad, it's okay," Heather said, although it wasn't, "But look, I have another problem right now."

"I will do anything to help you, dearest one. Speak!"

Heather explained to him, briefly, the events leading up to her mother's death, including her relationship with Pablo, and how he was currently chasing her through the forest. When she finished, Keith leaned back and stroked his chin with one of his watery arms.

"Hmm…" he rumbled, "'Tis a difficult problem, indeed."

A deep burbling noise issued from his chest, which Heather realized was a sigh.

"Alas, Heather, my dear, I am very old. Older than this world. My age weighs on me heavily, and it is my curse that I must slumber, doomed only to wake briefly, once a year or so. I will not be able to protect you. Thus, I must show you how to protect yourself."

"What do you mean?" said Heather.

"Magic, my daughter. I could give you magic."

"You mean, like a wizard?" said Heather.

"Just so. But alas, you are a creature of land, not water. I can set you on your way, but another must guide you."

"What do I have to do?"

Keith gestured to the glowing barrels in his torso.

"I will give you a drink of my core waters, and you will be transformed. You will become a wizard."

"Transformed into what?"

"I cannot say. I will do my best to ensure that you emerge safely from your metamorphosis, but you should know: magic always comes at a terrible cost."

A faint cry echoed through the forest. Heather thought to recognize Pablo's voice, though he was a long way away.

"That's him! That's Pablo!" said Heather.

"Then choose, my daughter. But beware! Every wizard is cursed. Sadness and madness await you."

Heather hesitated. The gravity of this moment was beginning to sink in. Her choice could potentially ruin her life.

She heard Pablo's voice again.

She remembered that she had no life.

"Will I be strong? Strong enough that I won't need anyone, anymore?"

"You will be strong, Heather, my dear. Formidable against the world."

"Then I'll do it. I'm already cursed."

"Step into the water."

Heather entered the river and waded out into the current, until the water was at chest height. She struggled to keep her footing. Keith towered over her, and with the sound of crashing boulders and grinding metal, his torso reconfigured itself until one of the yellow drums moved to his shoulder.

"Hold out your hands."

Heather did as she was told, and a glowing, golden liquid flowed from the drum, through the waters of Keith's arm, and poured into Heather's cupped hands.

"Now drink."

Heather swallowed the liquid in one gulp. It burned on the way down, and a burning pain lodged itself in her stomach. At once, she felt tingling and numbness in her hands and feet.

"D-Dad? What's happening? I-"

A powerful current surged from behind and lifted her up and out of the river. She stumbled onto the far bank. She looked down at her hands and feet and saw a thick brown crust was forming over them. Bark.

She turned and faced her father, panting from terror.

"Dad?!"

"Do not be afraid, child. All is well."

Heather raised her arms in the air, though she didn't immediately realize why. She soon found she could not move them. The bark covering her feet grew outwards, sending roots into the ground as her legs fused together. Bark crept down her arms as they lengthened and split into branches.

"Remember, another shall guide you. A friend. The Spirit of the Forest. You will meet him soon. Farewell, my daughter. I love you."

Heather's heaving, panicked breaths were soon stilled as bark encircled her torso, and her body solidified into wood. Sharp stabs of pain erupted all over, first from the top of her head, then from her neck, shoulders, back and chest and new branches sprouted and grew. Finally, the bark enveloped her face. As the bark transformed her eyes and brain, all went dark and still.


Author's Notes

A brief word on the Ancient Sleeping Guardian of the Glowing River, a.k.a. "Keith." There are a lot of things and characters in Adventure Time with the descriptor "ancient" and/or "sleeping," e.g., Magwood, the Ancient Sleeping Lava Dog (S6E24, "Evergreen), or the Ancient Sleeping Magi of Life Giving (S5E8, "Mystery Dungeon"). Our buddy ASGOTGR is supposed to be a similar type of being to Darren the Ancient Sleeper (S6E10), but water-themed instead of earth-themed.

What are these ancient beings? What ties them together? What ancient era do they originate from? We'll never know.