The Well of Youth

3. A good omen

Beira had lost track of exactly how many winters passed ever since that unforgettable day when Bryde took everything she held dear. Perhaps two centuries or three. The world of mortals changed around her while she held onto what was left of her. Thanks to The Well of Youth, Beira did not perish of old age, but using the miraculous waters came at a price. She had to travel to the Green Isle of the West every spring, for the powers of the eternal water were short-lived and wore off as the year progressed. And so each year, she drank from the Well, became young, gradually aged within months, and by winter, she was an old crone again.

No matter how bleak her existence seemed, she refused to give up hope that there was a solution to her problem somewhere out there, that she could gain immortality again along with her powers. She bid her time, fantasizing of the day when she could annihilate Bryde and rule this land again.

One day in the late summer, she gathered herbs in the woods, and a branch fell right in front of her. Beira had been around long enough to never dismiss such omens. She did not like surprises and so she gathered up twigs to find out what was trying to sneak up on her.

She returned to Ben Nevis, retired to her chamber, and retrieved a small tubular container. She shook the sticks within and threw them at her wooden table. Xylomancy was a crude divination method, but it was the only reliable scrying that didn't require magic, only knowledge. At least that couldn't be stolen from her.

She stared at the pattern the sticks took on and it was unmistakable—it was a sign of a new life. It confused her so she set fire to them. When the ashes cooled down, she was even more perturbed, refusing to believe her interpretation.

Beira set her jaw, knowing well what she had to do. It was humiliating to have to ask a hag for help, but what other choice did she have?

Beira knocked on Leticia's door, who invited her in and gave her a respectful nod in greeting. Back in the day, all hags used to bow to her all the way down to the floor. Beira bit down her wounded pride because she knew that until she found a better solution to her situation, she would only get this courtesy. At least hags still respected her, not forgetting that she was the goddess who created them, unlike all other beings who all too quickly let her fade into legend.

Leticia smiled, revealing crooked yellow teeth, and gestured at a chair. Beira took a seat, crossed her legs, and fixed the folds of her gown while the squat gray-haired hag hobbled over.

"How may I be of service, milady?"

"Scry my future, Leticia."

Leticia grinned broadly. "Certainly."

She hobbled over to a crate in the corner where she rummaged through the contents. While she prepared, Beira made an effort to not look around the hole this hag regarded as her bedchamber. It was dim, dreary, and smelled like a soiled chamber pot. Just being in that foul room made her wish for a bath.

Leticia returned with a wriggling mouse in her gnarly hands. Beira glanced at her own hands reflexively. They still looked slender and graceful. She was not looking forward to winter when her skin would be as wrinkly as this hag's.

"Oooh, oooh," Leticia cooed while tilting her head back and forth, observing the squirming mouse. "Good news. Good news."

Beira's spirits livened up but she remained passive, not letting the hag know that she was pleased.

"I wonder..." Leticia extracted a small knife from a chopping block, wiped it on her unwashed apron, and returned to the table where she placed the rodent right in front of Beira.

Before Beira could protest at such disgrace, Leticia stabbed the mouse and slowly sliced its abdomen, and while it was still squealing in pain, she tipped it over and watched with fascination as its innards spilled out onto the table.

"Mind the blood!" Beira objected and checked her gown for splatter.

Leticia hummed while watching the rodent squirm and waited until it kicked for the last time.

'And I thought the sticks were crude,' Beira thought to herself, watching the hag dig her curved fingernail in mouse entrails.

Leticia stuck her tongue out while she examined the rodent. "Yes, I'm sure," she murmured and then looked Beira in the eyes with a grin. "Congratulations are in order."

Beira groaned and Leticia chuckled.

"Ah, but milady already knew."

So it was true. She was pregnant. It was most inconvenient. As a goddess, Beira had complete control over when she would bear children, but now she was as helpless to nature as a mere human. She wasn't sure who the father was. She took on a few lovers in the spring while enjoying her new maiden body. This time, they were water spirits, she would never lower herself to bed a human man. She might be powerless, but she still had her dignity.

"I dared to hope I was mistaken but I'm never wrong."

"Certainly," Leticia inclined her head and giggled, giving Beira a wink. "Fun times have consequences."

Beira straightened up in her chair and assumed a wrathful mask, wiping the hag's smirk off. Her actions were not going to be compared to what hags considered "fun times." At least, she never had to use elixirs to lure and trick males into bedding her.

Leticia cleared her throat uncomfortably and walked over to a wicker basket.

"Milady?" she offered her a loaf of dark stale bread and Beira looked at it with utter contempt.

Leticia grinned again and sat down. "If I may remind you, milady, it is a good omen. It would be prudent to keep the babe."

Then, she proceeded to break a piece of the bread and dip it in the mouse innards which were still on the table.

Beira left the hag to enjoy her snack and deliberated if it was, in fact, a good omen. Having a child meant a lot of work, although hags could help her with that. On second thought, she wasn't sure if she trusted them to control their cravings around her young, so she would be on her own.

Still, a child could possibly offer her the devotion she so badly craved. She missed the good old times when humans feared and loved her, when she heard her name spoken with reverence. She could have that again.

And thus, Beira became a mother.