Thorns

“He’s at it again.”

“Really?” Agatha hurried over to her scrying ball, activating the surface with a single phrase. Sure enough, the knight was back, hacking at the thorn hedge with what looked like some sort of battle axe.

“What does this make, his sixteenth attempt?” Agatha remarked, summoning a stool and a cup of tea before settling in to watch. “He’s more persistent than the previous seekers.”

“You mean stupider,” Munin cawed, settling on the crystal ball, “Most of them realized by now that brute force is useless.”

“Hmm, he’s actually starting to make a little dent in the vines,” Agatha pointed out.

“Great. At this rate, he’ll reach the front gate in another fifty years,” Munin retorted, sarcastically, ruffling his feathers.

The knight seemed to realize that as well, because he’d paused in his hacking to study his meagre handiwork, critically. Then he stomped out of view of the ball, taking the axe with him.

“Wonder what he’ll try next,” Agatha remarked, sipping her tea. She was craving a biscuit, but unfortunately, Munin had eaten the last one yesterday and she hadn’t a chance to steal another batch from the local baker yet, “Or maybe he’ll come back with a different axe. After all, he tried fire on three different occasions.”

“Nearly roasted himself, the last time, too,” Munin quipped, “Although that wasn’t nearly as entertaining as the attempt with the giant slingshot. Pure comedy.”

“See, I told you he was entertaining. Who knows? Maybe we’ve finally found the one that will find a way through.”

“If he does, it will be by accident,” Munin remarked.

“Mmm,” Agatha answered, non-committally. At this rate, she needed something more substantial than tea. Summoning her magical icebox, she pleasantly surprised to find an almost complete wrap that she had made earlier and forgotten about.

“Oh, he’s back again,” Munin informed her. Agatha hastily dismissed the icebox and leaned closer to the crystal ball, while taking a bite of the wrap. She frowned.

“Is that a bottle in his hands? I thought he already tried herbicide. Or is it acid now? Or-“ She stopped when the knight uncorked the bottle and instead of pouring it over the hedge like she expected, he downed the contents.

“Not poison then.”

“Still might be, given his track record,” Munin muttered.

A shudder ran through the knight’s body and he dropped the bottle, the glass shattering on the ground.

“See?” Munin remarked.

The knight fell to his knees, and then seemed almost to collapse in on himself. No… Agatha squinted at the crystal ball. He wasn’t collapsing, he was shrinking. He disappeared from sight, his armour clanking to the ground. Just as she was wondering what in the world he had drunk, a slender brown snake slithered its way out of the armour and began winding between the narrow gaps of the thorny hedge.

“Oh, now that is creative,” Agatha clapped her hands in delight.

“Still useless,” Munin muttered as they watched the knight-turned-snake make his way rapidly through the hedge. “What’s he going to do when he reaches the other side? If the potion wears off before he comes back, then he will be stuck on the other side and naked, and if he gets back before then, how is he going to bring the princess he’s supposed to rescue, through?”

“Maybe he thinks it’s like that children’s tale, where the thorns disappear after he wakes her up,” Agatha mused.

“What a stupid assumption,” Munin objected.

They watched the snake as it made its way through the tangled hedges, finally making it to the edge of the magical wall. Now past the first obstacle, the knight faced a new challenge… the still raised drawbridge. For a second, he hovered at the edge of the path, staring across the intimidating gap. Just as Agatha thought he would give up, the little snake did something she did not expect. He bunched himself up and leapt… only for his tiny body to make it all of a foot before plummeting into the moat. A small splash could be heard from the water below.

“Well, that was anti-climatic,” Munin observed, “Guess we’ll be here for a while.”

“Oh dear,” Agatha murmured, sympathetically, “It’s a good thing snakes can swim.”

“You know, it’s a bit of a shame,” Agatha continued, watching the tiny snake struggle back up onto the bank, “He’s putting all this effort in, you can’t help, but feel sorry for him. I wonder what he’d say if he knew the princess he’s looking for, is in another castle.”

Word Count: 761

Word Count: 1352
Hours Spent: 4
Software Used: DAZ Studio 4 With IRAY