The Legend of Archibal

“Maybe we can come back tomorrow,” Walter said hoping to lift Alden spirits. Alden shrugged his shoulders. He really loved that compass and knowing he had just lost it to the Black Forest was disheartening. “We will figure out how to get it,” Walter assured Alden but he seemed he had given up to the thought he will never see the compass again. When the boys had left, the raven went looking for Jacobi who had already proceeded into the Black Forest. It did not take long for the raven to catch up to him and once she did she converted back into being a fox.

“I am on my way to see the witch,” he said to her. “There is a hunter roaming about. They are more of a problem than what they really are worth.” Jacobi reached the witch’s shanty which stood still and quiet. It appeared abandoned and spooky but Jacobi still went up to the door and knocked three times. The door opened slowly.

“Halloo,” Jacobi called out. “Is anybody home?”

“My, my, if it isn’t a gnome,” a voice called out from the pitch blackness. “Come to visit me.”

Jacobi was not too pleased in being called a gnome. “I am a brownie,” he corrected her. “Not a gnome, Madame, if you please.”

A floating light of a candle lit up and out popped out the head of an ugly, old witch. She had black unruly hair, green cat eyes and the tongue of a snake which she used to show contempt at his correction. “You see one, you see them all,” she giggled.

“Madam, please,” Jacobi said, displeased by her comment. “I did not come here to get insulted.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” she mocked. “Aren’t we being short?” She laughed even harder.

“Madam, please,” Jacobi tried to be more serious, but what did he expect from her and her inane mood at times. The witch was peeved by his humorless attitude. “Oh, very well. What is it that you want?” Illuminating the whole shanty with the snap of her fingers. “Did you come to disturb me or did you want something?” The rest of her plump body came to view. She was dressed in a dark purple dress with a white apron. She was not a very good housekeeper by the looks of her unkempt home. It was a simple place with a big, comfortable bed, a fireplace with a cauldron cooking in its pit, books everywhere, a table with many bottles of different colors and sizes. Bottles on the floor, even bottles on the bookcases where the books should go. It was apparent she was into potion making.