Chapter 283: Something Is Very Wrong
Six days turned into seven, and seven days turned into eight as Ashlynn and Jacques continued to wait for Heila to reawaken as the Willow Witch, though her success seemed less likely with every passing hour.
At this point, Amahle and Talauia returned to the barren island. Whether Heila succeeded at the final hour or succumbed to the power of the seed of witchcraft, Amahle would be there. She still held hope that she had come to witness the birth of this generation’s Willow Witch, but if she was wrong, then Ashlynn would need her support to come to terms with what would come next.
When the two witches arrived at the island, they both took several moments to stare in shock at the state of the island.
The barren island wasn’t very large to begin with, but in the time they’d been gone, one half of the island had been completely reshaped. Deep trenches and craters marked its surface and an earthen berm had been raised between the savaged end of the island and the one on which Heila lay.
"What is this, what is this? What happened here?" Talauia said, hovering over the transformed island.
"I’m sure we’ll learn soon enough, sugar," Amahle said, exiting the flat bottomed boat and picking her way carefully across the scarred terrain while Talauia fluttered along behind her. In the dim early morning light, nothing disturbed the misty air but the sound of their boat rocking and the low hum of Talauia’s wings.
"Maman?" Jacques said when Amahle reached the top of the berm. "You came," he said as a sad, relieved smile formed on his lips.
The reptilian witch sat next to a small campfire, stripped to the waist and wearing ragged looking pants that he’d cut off at the knees when it became clear that the shredded remains of his pants would only entangle his movements. While there were no signs of injuries on his powerful, muscular body, it was clear from the stiff way that he moved that he was both tired and worn from his time watching over Heila.
Behind him, Ashlynn lay on the ground next to Heila with an arm draped across the diminutive horned woman as she slept. Her sleeveless dresses and tattered skirts bore numerous bloodstains and her blond hair seemed to struggle to escape the tight braid she’d tied it in with several whisps floating around her face as she slept.
But as bad as the two witches looked, it was Heila who captured Amahle’s attention. Her complexion had turned a sickly silvery-green and darker green veins crawled up her neck and across her cheek. Most concerning of all, a layer of bark had formed over her horns and delicate leaves had begun to sprout at the tapered ends of her horns.
"She, she’s going to fail," Talauia said. Her wingbeats became erratic and she tumbled to the ground, dropping to her knees with tears filling her multifaceted eyes. Every detail was clear to her, from Heila’s shallow breathing to the way the curls of her hair had begun to resemble the drooping branches of a willow tree... she was still Heila, at least, she was mostly Heila, but by the time the sun set... there might be nothing left but... Sister Willow.
"She hasn’t failed yet, sugar," Amahle said softly. Moving quietly so as not to disturb Ashlynn, she knelt beside the ailing woman and reached out to her with her spider-like limbs, each one tipped with faintly glowing red energy that delved deep beneath the surface to feel the flow of the world’s energy through her body.