Over the Eternal Garden Wall and Into the Unknown

Chapter 1: Farewell

Chapter 1: Farewell

"Come with us," Wirt offered suddenly once his little brother Gregory was securely on his back and his frog tucked away in his arms.

Beatrice shook her head sadly. "Wirt, I've got to go home too. Tell my family it's my fault they're bluebirds." She let out a regretful sigh, her usually calm and collected mood dampened by the events of the day.

Wirt cleared his throat with a small smile, revealing to the solemn bluebird a glistening pair of golden scissors that resembled a bird. When she didn't say anything, the fifteen year-old added, "The scissors — that will make your family human again."

Beatrice's humanly intelligent eyes widened in shock. "What?" She stammered, blue wings bursting open in surprise, which quickly turned into irritation. "You had them all along?!"

"I-I used them to escape Adelaide and then —" the gnome-costumed boy explained, the next part coming out sheepishly, "and yeah, I was sorta mad at you."

The traumatized human-turned-bluebird began to tear up, pure emotion finally taking its toll on her. Unable to hold back her gratitude, she flew up to Wirt from her Edelwood perch and enveloped him in a big, feathery hug. "Oh, you wonderful mistake of nature," she sobbed, a single tear falling from her eye.

Wirt stiffened for a moment, the gesture unexpected. The rude bluebird didn't seem the type to thank anyone for anything and even now her joy could not fully extinguish her annoyance of him. Hey. At least she called me wonderful. Remembering Beatrice's family's request, Wirt returned her embrace (which was somehow not at all uncomfortable, considering she was a bird) with a content grin on his face. He let her stay there for a while, then she pulled away, trying to smile as well.

"So you're going to take Greg home, huh," she sighed, regret in her gaze.

Wirt nodded, repositioning his younger brother who had begun to slip off. He had just rescued Gregory from the Beast, a monstrous creature of evil, and the poor fellow had nearly been drained of his life. Wirt ached to know that it had been his fault all along, despite Gregory's rebuttal. Diverting his mind from his half-brother, Wirt took in Beatrice's depressing fake grin, which somehow made him feel worse than before.

"Then I guess this is goodbye." His friend, who had become so dear to him though their trials, let out a shaky breath.

Wirt felt a stab of disappointment. He would have to take Greg home and probably never see Beatrice again. "I -" Wirt frowned, unable to accept it. There had to be a way. There had to be a happy ending to their story. Then, an idea, "Then let us come with you."

"With me?" Beatrice echoed, more shocked than before. "I thought you had to go home. Why would you want to come with me?"

Wirt pressed his mouth into a thin line. Why did he want to come with her? "Because," the boy started, frantically searching for an answer. Because what? Oh, if only the sea didn't crash so heavily into the shore, the current a rickety waterfall for fish to climb for fear of failing. For along that path led —

"Wirt!" The bluebird snapped him to attention. He wasn't sure if she was expressing her urgency out of impatience or caution. Beatrice was flapping restlessly in the air and she kept glancing at the Woodsman and the Beast from across the clearing. "Wirt, I really don't care what kind of dorky delusion you're in, but if we don't leave right now they might not let us have another chance. You might not have another chance to go," she warned, a hidden message behind her words. "Gregory needs you, Wirt."

"I know." Wirt let out a sigh, his resources drained. Of course. He was just being selfish, that's all. He just wanted to keep his friend.

"I'm sorry," the bird comforted him in a soft voice, full of melancholy. "Goodbye, Wirt."

The boy had to hold back tears, his hand clenched tightly around the witch's magical scissors. "Goodbye —" Wirt paused. "Wait." The scissors. She hadn't taken them from him. "Beatrice. Beatrice, come here." Wirt beckoned her into the trees, trying to get out of eyesight. He didn't want the Beast to confront them again. Once he made it to a secluded area, the light of the sun filtering through the trees so he could see, Wirt looked behind him to see if she followed. She had.

"Give me your wings so I can cut them," Wirt demanded. She froze. "If I can't come with you, at least give me this honor. I want to see how you look. As a human."

Reluctantly, Beatrice came to him, sitting on a tree stump for stability. She nodded her agreement, gulping nervously.

Here goes . . . Wirt took a deep breath, lifting one of her delicate blue wings with his hand as he attempted to steady his other, which was trembling madly. Every possible thing that could go wrong ran through his mind. He could slip or drop and break the scissors or even worse — what if they weren't even real?! But he didn't have much choice, now did he? Experimenting with them, he cut off one of her flight feathers, startled when it exploded in a shower of sparkles. "I-is that supposed to happen?" he asked worriedly.

"Yes, dummy. That's how it works." She rolled her eyes.

"Oh. I thought I had to literally clip off your wings," he responded, relieved beyond measure. He thought he could see her relax as well. Soon all of her flight feathers were gone, and in a brilliant burst of light she transformed from a beautiful bird into a girl. She had red hair tied up in a bun and was attired in a long, blue silk gown. Her cheeks were flushed and freckled nicely and . . . she was taller than him. He hung his mouth open in surprise.

She giggled in amusement and plucked the scissors from his hand. "Thank you, Wirt," she smirked, her voice the only thing that was the same as before. "I guess you can go now."

It took him a while, but he answered, "Uh, yeah. I'm gonna get going now. Goodbye Beatrice."

"Goodbye Wirt."

 

o-o-o-o

Everything felt as if he were dreaming, fuzziness overwhelming the seven year-old boy's senses. He thought he could hear voices, although the undecodable murmurings that surrounded him could have been nothing but his imagination. With great effort and curiosity, Greg forced open his eyes a crack, struggling to keep them open so his sight could clarify the familiar noises. Unable to make anything out, Wirt's younger brother closed them again and relaxed, allowing the teen's welcoming warmth shield him from the bitter cold that engulfed him entirely before.