Beyond the Wicked Willow: Chronicles of a Teenage Witchslayer

THE POET, THE SIREN, AND THE NYMPH

"It was some two thousand one hundred years ago, and although the close of the First Terror was quickly drawing near, it was, nevertheless, among the darkest days in the village's history. The farms were barren and health among the villagers faded with each passing day," explained Ambroggio.

"It was only when all seemed utterly hopeless that she had appeared. From within the depths of the forest beyond, she wandered into the withering village. Her name was Tressa—a fair young maiden of no more than fourteen years. And just as it was to be nearly one thousand years later upon the birth of the Befana, so it was upon Tressa's arrival, life-giving fertility was restored to the lands and renewed health bestowed upon its peoples. Beholden to their young savior, the villagers warmly embraced her as one of their own and fondly christened the village in her honor, naming it Giardino di Tressa, Tressa's Garden.

"It was there Tressa made the village home, wed, and bore children. And those children would grow and wed and bore children of their own, and on and on it went down through the generations, intime giving rise to the Befana.

"Few know the true account of the Befana's beginnings as I have set forth here to you today," said Ambroggio. "As to the mystical essence inherited from her kinswoman Tressa, fewer even yet know the very wellspring from which it flowed—a wellspring so ancient, there are but only three who still walk the earth privy to its existence."

"How do you know all this?" asked Bookworm skeptically.

"Because...I am one of the three."

"Who are the other two?" asked Frankie.

"The Befana herself, and the Strega," answered Ambroggio.

Ambroggio continued, "The ancient wellspring was a nymph, a keeper of the very soul of Terra Mater...mother earth.

"Most nymphs, no matter the sort, land, wood, or water, usually live out their lives in the peaceful solitude of nature's sanctuary. But, on rare occasion, a nymph may reveal herself to humans and—in yet rarer circumstances—might even fall in love with a mortal and go on to bear his children. Such was the case with the beautiful nymph Terina—progenitor of the Befana and lineal wellspring of her mystical Essence.

"Now...how the nymph Terina came to reveal herself to humans and later take one as her husband, well, that is a story unto itself—I'm sure you all have no interest in such tales," he said glumly. With that, Ambroggio became sullen as if reflecting on a painful memory he had worked long and hard to keep locked safely away.

As he stared somberly ahead, he did not realize his audience was completely captivated and, indeed, quite interested to hear more.

When they all clamored at once for him to continue, he sighed heavily and took a moment to consider..."As you wish," he said in his usual gruff manner. "It all began long ago upon the rocky shores of the Tyrrhenian Sea. A young poet named Homerus, not much older than yourselves, sat along a remote rugged cove where the strong winds whistled and moaned. There Homerus anxiously waited, as he often did, for his dear love Ligeia, a beautiful Siren, to arrive," said Ambroggio with a surprising glimmer in his eye.

"I thought Sirens were supposed to be deadly," said Bookworm.

"Ahhh, yes," said Ambroggio, "many believe Sirens to be cunning enchantresses whom lure men to their deaths...that, my boy, is a fallacy, and for good reason, which I will later make clear." As Ambroggio proceeded to tell the tale, Frankie and the others saw a gentle side of the old curmudgeon emerge.

"When the blue butterflies filled the air, Ligeia would rise up from beneath the water, and when she did, Homerus could not contain his joy—nor could Ligeia for that matter, for they were only able to see each other for a short time once every month on the first day before the rise of the full moon. It was always the same; their eyes would meet, broad smiles would blossom across their faces, and Ligeia would swim lithely toward Homerus, neither taking their eyes off the other, not even for a moment. They were in love.

"Ligeia would transform from mermaid to human in order to spend time with Homerus. And on that day, when they stepped off on their usual walk along the beach, Ligeia, for the very first time, kissed Homerus, and told him that she loved him. If I had—I mean—if Homerus had only known he'd never again have the opportunity to proclaim his love for Liegeia in return, he would have done so right then and there—but alas, it was not to be."

"Why not?" asked Frankie with a nervous gulp.

"Fate had different intentions," answered Ambroggio sorely.

"That day one life was stolen and another spared. They were villainously ambushed by the treacherous Il Strega Diavolo. When Homerus finally awoke days later, he was blinded in both eyes, and his dear Ligeia dead. If not for the kindly nymph Terina, Homerus, too, would have perished that day. Indeed, there were many times over the years he'd wished he had," said Ambroggio bitterly.

"The nymph Terina saved Homerus?" asked Beef.

"Over many years, Terina nursed Homerus back to health. Each day, Terina would sit patiently and care for Homerus, and it was only by her skillful hand that he was able to survive at all. She, being a nymph, was a master at the art of deriving medicine from all manner of plants, herbs, barks, and roots, each of which grew abundantly in her presence.

"As Homerus slowly regained his strength, he began to weave a rich tapestry of historical verses. Well, not entirely historical, for it was within these verses that Homerus would sow the seeds, which fostered the legend of the baleful nature of the Sirens.

"You see," said Ambroggio sadly, "Homerus, for as long as he would live, would feel accountable for Ligeia's unjust and untimely death. In his mind, had he not come into her life, she would not have died upon the shores that fateful day. With his creation of the legend carefully interlaced among the verity of history, Homerus sought with great hope to dissuade any and all mortals from ever again seeking out the beautiful innocent Sirens, lest another should lose her life.

"And that, Bookworm, should serve to clarify your misconceptions about the true nature of Sirens," said Ambroggio.

"Indeed, it does," replied Bookworm as he shook his head in astonishment.

"So, robbed of his sight, no longer able to write, Homerus would recite to Terina, day-by-day, month-by-month, lo year-by-year, every single word of every single verse.

"As he slowly built upon his sprawling poems, all was diligently recorded at the attentive hand of the benevolent nymph until, at long last...two formidable emprises had been chronicled. He entitled them, The Iliad and The Odyssey.

"By the time the works were complete, Homerus had become a man. And, by the healing waters of her magical spring, Terina had restored sight to one of Homerus's eyes. With her benevolent work done, Terina set out to reunite Homerus with his own kind. They soon came upon a small nearby village where Terina had sought to leave Homerus, but, as is often the case in life, fate had different intentions. You see, upon entering the village, a stout young man caught Terina's eye and she his.

"As Homerus observed the two of them locked in a desirous gaze, he quickly discerned the familiar look in their eyes. It was the very same look that he and Ligeia had always had for one another—the look of love. So goes the story of how the kind nymph Terina met and married a human, had children, and began the bloodline that eventually led to the Befana and her mystical Essence. The Befana is the last in her line and thus sole keeper of the Essence, but...there is much more to her than that alone," said Ambroggio intriguingly.