In the Witch's Garden

The Great Red Dragon Branathataxis lay sleeping upon her mound of gold. Heavy rumbles of breath filled the cavern with the occasional clink of coin as massive lungs shifted the treasure hoard. High above, a single being clung to the cavern wall with one hand, the other grasping an enormous sword. The figure was wearing only a loincloth and tattered green cloak, long blond hair flowing freely over the childish face.

Childish because the figure was, in fact, a human toddler. Somehow clinging to a rough cavern wall three stories above the floor and wielding a sword the length of a full grown man with only one hand. The child released its grip on the wall, plummeting straight downwards towards the dragon. Gripping the sword with both hands during the decent, the child screamed out a war cry only a moment before plunging the sword directly into the dragon's back.

The sword shattered into pieces sending shards skittering across the cavern. Branathataxis let out a brief yelp of surprise before rolling over onto her scaled back, massive wings spread wide. The child bounded on all fours across the dragon's flank with well practiced steps, ending up in the dragon's waiting arms.

“I got you Bana. I got you good!”

“Yes you did child, you got me.” Replied Branathataxis, Fire Queen of Crooked Peak, Scourge of the Windy Plain, and mother to this foundling human child she had named “Corn”.

Corn jumped down and toddled off. That sword was broken, a new toy was needed. Fortunately the knights which had attempted to vanquish the dragon over the years had left behind a seemingly endless supply of helms, breastplates, and weaponry. More than enough shiny objects to amuse even the most curious human toddler.

Branathataxis considered her young ward carefully. That sword strike had hurt. It had been years since any human had managed to injure the dragon. But this tiny little toddler had caused pain. Branathaxis twisted her neck around and looked at her back. Diamond hard scales flanked a ridge of vicious spikes, ending in a long whiplike tail. A single scratch was visible where the toddler had struck. A brief glint of concern showed behind her ruby eyes. That scratch should not have been possible, the sword wasn’t even magical.

The dragon turned back to watch the child again. Corn was atop the armor pile, playing with a chain mail tunic. Holding up the armor, Corn casually ripped one of the sleeves off, sending broken chain links pinging about the room. Unsatisfied with the result, Corn then ripped a smaller piece of the sleeve off, and wore the remaining loop of chainmail like a crown.

“No” Thought Branathataxis sternly “That is clearly not normal”.

Branathataxis, Fire Queen of Crooked Peak, Scourge of the Windy Plain, found herself in the uncomfortable position of needing advice. Well there was only one human she knew that did not attack on sight. It was time to go visiting.

#

Tanith was either a very good witch or a very good stone carver, judging by the small army of statues surrounding her hut. They were all carvings of humans, many of them soldiers, and the vast majority were in seated positions, although there were no stone chairs so they looked rather foolish. Branathataxis thought the statues amusing, because from the air they were arranged into the words: “KEEP OUT THIS MEANS Y”, despite the fact there were very few flying creatures that could read.

The Dragon landed in the pleasant butterfly filled garden area behind the hut. Tanith was waiting, large wooden ladle in hand.

“Tanith, you are looking well. I see you have added more letters since my last visit.”

“Thank you Branathataxis. Lots of soldiers recently. You are looooo…”

Tanith’s word trailed off into nothing as Corn hopped down from the dragon's back.

“This is my human child. I found it at a bandit attack, and now I am raising it.”

Tanith raised her ladle and shook it gently in the direction of the toddler, who hissed at the witch and climbed back onto the dragon's back.

“I named it Corn” said Branathataxis, folding her wings and forelegs, lowering herself onto the garden, so her head was level with the witch. Her favorite position for conversation.

Tanith placed balled fists at her sides, ladle still clenched in one.

“You adopted a human baby? Is this some Dragon middle age crisis thing?”

The dragon was shocked into introspection. Was this some sort of middle age crisis? Maybe a misguided mothering instinct? After all, she had never been particularly interested in other dragons. Were any still around? None had come to visit her, of course she had not gone to visit them either. The last real interaction had been at the meteor strike hundreds of years ago, when they fought over the space metal. Branathataxis looked down at her left leg, seeing the long scar she had sustained. She had won that fight, claimed the space metal, and carried it triumphantly to her lair. And then what? What good had it done her since? It sat there collecting dust and attracting knights questing for a “Star Sword’ or some such.

A banging noise interrupted her memories. The witch was over by the hut, tapping her ladle on the top of a boiling cauldron. Corn was no longer on the dragon's back, Branathataxis looked around.

“She is looking at the flowers” Said Tanith.

The dragon raised a questioning brow ridge.

“Corn. Your human baby. She’s a she, not an it. And before you ask, I’m a witch, I can sense this kind of thing.”

Corn was over by the sunflowers, reaching up and trying to touch them, her golden hair matching the colors of the petals.

“So you found her at a bandit raid? And was she wrapped in that blanket?” Tanith pointed at Corns green cloak with her ladle.

Once again Branathataxis remembered why she enjoyed conversing with the witch. Tanith was so insightful, she just seemed to intuitively grasp everything.

“Correct, wrapped in the green cloth. All the other humans were dead, except for one bandit who died shortly after I arrived.” I did not want to leave it, err her, to die from exposure, so I brought her home with me.

Tanith slipped her ladle into the tangle of her hair and sat on the grass.

“Soldiers have come, looking for a missing baby girl. A princess. They wore green cloaks. They demanded help instead of asking politely, so I offered them tea.”

The dragon considered the toddler, who had moved on from the sunflowers, and was now climbing one of the Witch Huts massive chickenlike legs.

“You believe this child is the missing human princess?”

Tanith rose, walked over to a nearby statue. This one was a standing soldier, holding his hand near his mouth, like he had just drunk something. Tanith reached out and traced a crest on the statues intricately carved tunic.

“This crest here, it's the royal symbol from the kingdom that lost their princess. Their soldiers have been here several times.”

Tanith bonked the statue on the forehead with her ladle.

“You should have asked politely” She said to the statue in a stern tone. “We might not have had such a rocky relationship.” Taniths eyes were twinkling a bit, despite the sternness in her tone.

Turning back to speak with Branathataxis, Tanith continued.

“Your toddler there has the same symbol on her cape, and matches the description and age of the missing princess.”

Branathataxis looked again at Corn, who had successfully climbed the huts chicken leg, and was now hanging from the bottom of the hut gleefully kicking her legs in midair.

Tanith laughed. Not her witches cackle, that was reserved for paying guests, but an honest from the heart deep down belly laugh.

“You finally did it, you ol’ rascal.” She managed to blurt out between gasps “You went and kidnapped a princess.” Tanith collapsed into the soft green grass. “You pulled the oldest trick of all, and you didn’t even try.” Tanith lay on her back on the grass, arms flung wide, gasping for air, she had struggled to get the words out, and now just enjoyed the delirium of irony.

Branathataxis, Fire Queen of Crooked Peak, Scourge of the Windy Plain, rose on her rear haunches to her full height, fire burning behind her eyes. Wings spread wide, blocking the sun for the entire garden. Heat of rage coursed through her, building the fire within. How dare a mortal mock her! Kidnap a princess? All she had done was pick up a baby from the side of the road, take it away and hide it where nobody could find it, and it just happened to be a princess, and oh, she could see it now.

The rage melted into laughter. Branathataxis fell over onto her back also, and let the flame spurt out directly into the air, followed by a belly roar.

After some laughing, the dragon attempted a joke, a rarity for her. “The child, the KID, as you say, did do a lot of,,,napping,,, at first.”

This sent the two friends into another fit of laughter.

After a while, Tanith sat up, holding onto her side. “I have not laughed like that in many years,” she said. “Thank you for visiting. And for bringing your child also.”

Tanith gestured towards the hut with the ladle.

“Was there something specific orrrrr…”

Taniths words trailed off as she saw what was happening.

Corn was standing in the fire, holding up the bubbling cauldron, drinking deeply from it. The child, still an uncoordinated toddler, tipped the cauldron too far and spilled it all over herself while drinking, dousing out the fire in a tremendous puff of steam and smoke.

Corn sputtered and shook her head and body wildly like an animal, then bounded out of the steaming fire pit over to one of the statues.

Tanith, now silent with a grave expression, was watching the child intensely. Branathataxis, back on her belly, moved her head low to conversation height.

“I am concerned about the child. She does not act like a normal human child.”

A pause without answer from the witch, so the dragon continued.

“I do not actually know what human children act like normally, but I am certain that this” nodding her head briefly in the direction of Corn “Is not it”.

Corn had found a statue with a sword and was trying to remove it, but the sword being made of stone just crumbled under the strength of her grasp.

Tanith finally spoke, still with gaze fixed on the child “You are right Branathataxis. This is not normal behavior. Not just for a child, but for any human.”

Corn, frustrated by the crumbling sword, balled up her tiny fists and smashed the statue into rubble. Suddenly delighted by this new game, she bounded on all fours to another statue and smashed that one also.

“Why didn’t she… How is she so strong? Asked Tanith to no one in particular.

“I believe it is because of her diet.” Answered the dragon.

“What do you mean?” Asked Tanith, her attention now fully on the dragon.

“The only human sustenance I had was the supplies left behind by the questing knights. Most of that was burned away when I roasted them. All that remained was magical potions. I have been feeding those to her.”

Taniths eyes went a little out of phase, “You have been giving magical potions? To a baby!”

“Correct, that is what I had, and she took a liking to them. I will run out soon, so I need some advice on what to feed her instead.”

“Show me” Tanith demanded, suddenly forgetting her manners in front of a Dragon.

Branathataxis thought to take offense, but decided not to. This was the only human available for advice, and in truth Tanith was her only friend. Branathataxis released the satchel she had concealed under her wing pouch. Tanith grabbed it and rummaged through. She began taking out potions and examining them.

“Heat Abatement, Magic Deflection, Strength of Ten, Skin of Steel…” Tanith muttered as she went through them. Dozens of different kinds of potions were in the satchel. Over the years an incredible variety of stratagems had been attempted against the dragon, all with the same predictable fiery result. Their collected alchemical leftovers were now spread before Tanith on the grass.

Whats this!” Tanith shouted, holding up a bottle with green murky swirls, “This is Venom of the Emerald Asp”

“Oh, Corn doesn’t like that one very much.” Answered Branathataxis. “She makes a bad face when she drinks it.”

“There is enough poison in this vial to kill everyone in a small village!”

“Eurrrr…” It was Branathataxis' turn to be speechless. She had not considered that some of the vials would be harmful.

“Tanith turned to look at Corn again. “Well that explains something. It explains it a lot. It's still unbelievable, but it does explain it.”

Corn was climbing a tree, carrying the statue of a human warrior in one hand, snapping off any branches that got into her way.

“That cauldron,” Tanith continued, “that wasn’t soup.”

“That was Basilisk Brew. Two drops in a cup of tea will turn even the strongest soldier into stone. They don’t even have time to put the cup down.”

Tanith was staring intently at her spoon now, lost in thought. “I don’t know how much of it she drank, but it was well more than two drops, and she seems completely unaffected.”

Corn was nearing the top of the tree, stone soldier still gripped in one hand. A murder of crows was darting about her head, saying utterly vile things about human children and their inattentive parents. Corn dropped the statue, its attractiveness as a toy paled in comparison to the funny squawking birds.

“You better get her down from that tree” said Tanith, paying attention to the happenings from treetop. “Those crows are friends of mine, and they have a nest up there.”

Branathaxis retrieved Corn and brought her over to Tanith for inspection. Corn squirmed about, but endured it well enough. Taniths inspection went far beyond what a normal human child needed, after all, normal children don’t need to be tested to see if they are immune to fire or merely heat resistant.

“I would say she is a healthy human child, but that's a bit of an understatement” pronounced Tanith after her inspection.

“She is incredibly strong, surprisingly quick, immune to fire as far I can tell, and seems incredibly resistant to poison. But she is lacking in certain, how do I say this, Human skills.”

“Thank you Tanith.” Responded Branthataxis. “But what should I do now? I don’t know how to raise a human child. I don’t know how to teach her Human skills”.

“She is very smart for her age, probably because of the potions. Start by teaching her to speak a human language. And see if you can get her to walk on two legs instead of four.”

After a brief pause Tanith continued. “Oh and one more thing…” Tanith walked over to her hut, which bowed its legs to allow her to enter. She returned carrying a large sack. Gesturing with the sack before placing it into the dragons satchel Tanith said:

“No more potions. Feed that princess some porridge.”