The Call of Nys #5 (Waverly Stump and The 7 Realms)

7 - W A V E R L Y

Until her clothes started to burn, Waverly failed to realize she had played with fire.

Literally.

Twice she used her newfound ability to elude Hekate; the first time being an easy escape from a field of stampeding, wild horses. The second was not so great.

In fact, they were the worst and most horrifying of all Hekate's tricks so far.

First, she had been illusuoned into a memory. A very old memory. The surprising part of it was that the memory was a very happy one. The witch goddess developed a new knack for recreating perfect scenarios which she would later destroy.

The smell of spring air and the sight of prolific greenery brought a crushing wave of nostalgia to Waverly's senses. Distinct, dwarf trees growing out of rocky clefts, flowers of deep-pink, dark red and purple in clusters about the leaf strewn ground, rosebuds, thrushes perched atop magnolias and a patch of new vegetables beside a cave formed a pleasant, perceivable view. Underfoot, the soil was sodden in the common aftermath of rainfall and the skies were a mix of gray and white clouds.

She gripped her ruined dress, awaiting the emergence of two clueless youngsters. The day was one she remembered very well. As expected, a younger version of herself appeared from the corner in a sprint, laughing contagiously. It was strange to Waverly how much she had grown because her younger self seemed two heads shorter.

Coming up from far behind in a leisurely stroll with a smile on his face was Judson. He too appeared younger, but a little less scrawnier than usual. In his hand was a full basket with a folded blanket on top. A green scarf was wrapped around his neck and he wore shorts with a pair of old shoes and his usual multi-pocketed shirt. With the exception of his monochromatic wings, he looked as normal as every other boy.

Waverly watched them set up a most delightful picnic, staring at Judson. He had the most adorable smile and listened to all her ramblings about Old Tuss's goats being fatter than most goats and children in the market that called her "round dozen" because her face was plump and they thought she was twelve years old still.

It burned to see him there, alive and real, laughing at her use of big words because he knew what they meant and she did not quite. She desired to call out to him and had subconsciously walked close to the picnic area when her younger self glanced up - straight at her.

She froze.

"What are you doing here?"

Waverly peered quickly at Judson, who was now engrossed in sorting out seeds he aimed to plant one by one. It was uncertain whether he pretended to be oblivious of her presence and the fact that his company had spoken to someone other than him.

"You are not supposed to be here." Her younger self admonished, her face contorting into one that could have easily scared off an adult. "You ruin things. Go away!"

"What?" Waverly asked, shell shocked.

She stepped back when her young self rose intimidatingly from the picnic mat and began to advance.

"I do not want you here. We are fine without you. You ruin things. Now, leave!"

A few times before Waverly had found it difficult to form words, but being rebuked by her own self like a sworn enemy tied her tongue into a double knot.

"I warn you," Young Waverly said, halting briefly. "Leave before you do something we all regret."

"I just want to see him." Waverly confessed at last, her voice breaking. She glanced over at Judson, who had walked to the cave, planting his seeds in the ground there in a row and gradually entering the cave as he did.