I lay by the pond on a sunny day, idly weaving a wreath of flowers.
When it was done, I set it atop the water and gave it a gentle nudge.
It floated to the center, a golden halo on a swath of cold blue.
“A crown fit for a king!” I merrily called to no one.
Then something stirred in the depths.
The blossoms lifted from the surface, light on the brow of a water nymph.
“Fit for a queen!” She cried boldly, a regal smile on her lovely face.
“I accept your offering and claim my kingdom!”
Crown and pose inspired by Bloom Design Studios
The old witch eyed me for a moment, muttering to herself. She snorted, then spat in the dirt.
“Aye, I can do it. Your molar. Third back on the left.” She turned away and started rifling through the refuse again.
“My-… wait what? You want a tooth?” I laughed nervously and ran my hands through my short hair. I still wasn’t used to that feeling.
“Not a tooth. Your tooth. Third back on the left.” She cackled triumphantly as she pulled a bottle from the pile and peered through the glass. The witch gently brushed it off and stowed it in the shapeless sack that hung from her belt.
Wary, I shifted from foot to foot. This was an even weirder request than the last. Hair grows back. You can’t replace a tooth so easily.
She tilted her head to the side to look up at me. The bird-like motion and her shiny, dark eyes reminded me all too much of the ominous crows circling above. She raised a wrinkled hand and pointed a gnarled finger at me.
“You want the truth? You want to find her, don’t you? Left molar. Third. Back.”