Chapter 13
Meredith And The Bog Hag
One bright, sunny, windless afternoon, Meredith flew above a lush forest, wearing a pale red robe and matching boots. The shop had run out of peppersnap mushrooms. As per Grandma’s instructions, Meredith flew north along the winding Norwich River in search of a swamp to forage for more. Eventually, a putrid odor reached her nose.
Beneath her, the forest's luscious growth slowly faded into a muddy, foggy bog where the river looped sharply and spilled its contents across a wide swath of land. The trees' leaves transitioned from short and perky to long and droopy, then the branches turned barren and scraggly. Meredith could barely see the murky brown and unperturbed mud beneath them.
She hovered just above the putrid marsh and wished she knew a spell to block unpleasant scents—she had forgotten to bring her dictionary with her.
Meredith glanced around and searched for a way to descend into the swamp without snagging herself on the warped and bare tree limbs. Meredith took a terrible-tasting breath, ushered her broom downwards, and weaved around the knotted, twisted, and jagged wooden tendrils. She arrived at the bottom with hardly a scratch and searched for a place to land as she hovered just above the still, murky water. The air was muggy, and the awning of the gnarled trees scattered narrow beams of sunlight across the water.
Nearby were scattered and partially submerged roots, boulders, and fallen trees that breached the muck. But there was nowhere substantial to touch down. Meredith decided to stay on her broom. She tucked the hanging parts of her robe beneath her and wound through the eerily silent swamp. She dodged the curtains of hanging moss, prickly brush, and the spiders that made their homes within. There were plenty of mushrooms around that Meredith didn’t need, but none of the easily discernable bright red caps of the peppersnaps.
Meredith searched and searched as she drifted just above the swamp water. She never got used to the awful rotten-egg smell. Finally, she came across a moss-covered rock jutting out of the water at a weird angle. Atop it lay a soggy, crumbling log that had fallen across it long ago. Growing across the rotting wood were the unmistakable peppersnap mushrooms.
However, the rock was surrounded by brush, bramble, and low branches. Meredith saw no way to fly through or around it. She sighed in resignation and begrudgingly slid off her broom. She snatched the hem of her robe up as her boots sank deep into the muddy depths, almost to her knees. The warm swamp water seeped into her boots. With a huff of frustrated acceptance, Meredith grimaced and let her robe drop into the warm muck. The disgusting water seeped up the fabric. Meredith hoped the smell would wash out. She hadn’t realized witchcraft included such dirty work.
Meredith left her broom hovering over the water. She did her best to ignore the uncomfortable seepage and wetness and began to trudge towards the peppersnaps. She sloshed and weaved through the bramble as she neared the log, but her path was taking too long, and twigs snagged and broke within her hair. Meredith flipped her robe’s hood over her head, bowed over, and forced her way through the brush until she finally stood before the small boulder.
Meredith climbed atop the rock, then the soggy, slippery, mushroom-laden log. She was careful not to crush the peppersnaps as she crouched awkwardly, plucked them, and gently placed them in her bag. She only took a few handfuls and left the rest to grow for future foraging. Meredith clambered down the boulder, sloshed into the muck again, and pushed back through the brush.
‘I can finally get out of this disgusting swamp,’ she thought.
Meredith approached her waiting broom. A strange, dark feeling washed over her. A low, gloppy, bubbling noise permeated the otherwise silent bog. Meredith whipped around. A small pool of bubbles simmered just before her, then violently erupted. The murky geyser leaped upwards, high into the branches above. Meredith flinched backward as her throat hitched. The rank water sloughed back down to reveal a thick, haggardly woman in mud-soaked rags. Tingling panic erupted throughout Meredith.
The crooked woman leered at her through tiny, bulging eyes beneath the scant, dirty, limp hair that hung like moss from the sides of her balding and grotesquely contoured head.
‘What the hell?’ Meredith thought.
“Well, well, well!” The swamp-skinned woman clasped her yellow nailed and gnarled hands before her. She spoke in a throaty and gloppy way as if she was drowning in her own mucus. “What do we have here?”
Meredith was too stunned to speak. Her heart hammered in alarm as she realized the woman was a bog hag. They were rumored to be dangerous witches twisted by dark magic. Meredith had no intention of finding the truth to those rumors.
“What,” the bog hag continued. “Pray tell, are you doing in my swamp?”
“I-Umm…” Meredith stammered nervously.
“Go on, dearie,” the hag cooed with her ragged voice. “Don’t be shy! Tell Auntie Edna why you decided to trespass into her domain.”
The hag titled her head expectantly atop her crooked body. Her eyelids peeled back, and a repulsive smile ripped across her wrinkly, mottled face in faux sincerity. Meredith was still at a loss for words. She stood in shock, alone with a strange being in the middle of nowhere. Neither Cici nor Thomas were able to help. Maybe she could contact Phillip?
“Out with it!” Auntie Edna bellowed as she sloshed forward, seemingly without moving.
Meredith flinched back, her hand on her wand. She took another few steps back to maintain her distance. She took a calming breath to steady her racing heart and mustered every ounce of politeness she could. What was this lady’s deal?
“Good afternoon, ma’am.” Meredith hoped she hid her fear well. “I was just foraging for peppersnap mushrooms for some medicine. I apologize for intruding; I meant no harm.” Meredith held her palms outward by her side to emphasize her innocence.
“Meant no harm?” The bog hag cocked her withered head to the other side and crept closer as if she glided through the water. “Says the dear child who plucked my mushrooms off my favorite log.”
Meredith took another few steps backward and bumped into her broom. She was taken aback by the hag’s incredulous claim. She very much doubted the woman and judged her as merely rankled. Regardless, she knew she needed to get out of there and fast.
“I didn’t know they were yours—”
“Of course they’re mine!” The hag bellowed indignantly. She maintained her eerie posture. “This whole swamp is mine! And I will not tolerate you villagers coming in and stealing away nature’s bounty from me!
“Just foraging, you say,” Auntie Edna spat. “You know, the last person who trespassed for JUST foraging in MY swamp left with a foot full of pustules!”
Realization struck Meredith.
‘So, this is the crazy bog hag Paul escaped from,’ she thought as she slid her hand down to the familiar comfort of her holstered wand.
“I apologize for trespassing,” Meredith stated calmly and firmly. “Would you grant me permission to harvest a few mushrooms from your domain?”
“Oho!” Edna chortled. “So formal and polite! So well learned!” The hag’s face grew grim, and her laughter subsided. “No.”
Silence enveloped them.
“Well then,” Meredith started as she edged away from the hag. “I apologize for taking your mushrooms without asking. I’ll leave now and promise not to return.” Meredith stepped around her broom, never showing Edna her back.
“You won’t be going anywhere.” Auntie Edna’s face grew slack. Her eyes lolled about her head, and her tongue peeked out the corner of her fungus-covered lips. Her body rattled as if possessed. “Your brain will taste resplendent in tonight’s stew.”
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A smile crept over her face again. The rest remained impassive.
A surge of adrenaline and focus rippled through Meredith as she whipped out her wand and stared down her outstretched arm at Auntie Edna.
“Do not threaten me, hag!” Meredith exclaimed with renewed confidence. “I come in peace, and I will leave in peace.”
The hag shook again, and emotion and some semblance of cognition returned to her. “You trespass and dare point that stick at me? You won’t be leaving here at all, but you will be in pieces!” she cackled.
Meredith leaped onto her broom and started upwards.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Auntie Edna ripped her arm forward.
Something wrapped around Meredith’s ankle and calf, holding her in place. She looked down and saw a muddy arm protruding from the murky water clasped around her leg; another grasped at her robes.
The water rippled as dozens of murky, watery hands emerged beneath Meredith. They snatched and clawed at her, pulling her downwards as they clamped around her legs. Fear and rage enveloped Meredith. She whipped her wand about, crying out, “Sylis Tarna!
A faint, translucent flash of purple blasted out from the end of her wand and slammed into the outstretched hands. They exploded and lost their hold on her as they sloshed back into the swamp, but many more emerged.
Meredith blasted them over and over as the mud hands clamored for her. They erupted out of each other; she couldn’t get free! She could barely think past immediate survival! A hand yanked at the back of Meredith’s robe and yanked. She lost her grip on her broom and fell into the warm muck.
The quickly encroaching hands were at eye level. Meredith splashed and floundered as she struggled against the hands that threatened to drown her.
“Sylis— Swamp water splashed into Meredith’s mouth, disrupting her spell.
The hands enveloped her. She ripped herself upwards but couldn’t find her footing. Meredith flailed in her mud-soaked robe as the hands continuously pulled her down. They splashed apart as she lashed against them with her limbs or blasted with magic, but they quickly replaced themselves. There were just too many. She needed help but couldn’t get Phillip’s communicator from her purse!
Auntie Edna watched silently, her twisted face gleaming.
Meredith began to lose ground. A hand glopped on top of her head and pulled her down. She took a panicked, haggard breath and closed her eyes as she was forced underwater. She clawed and thrashed to no avail. The hands pulled at her hair, face, and throat and kept her pinned against the mud.
Meredith struggled to think of a spell. She hadn’t mastered many offensive spells that didn’t require a verbal incantation, but she had to try, or she was done for, and she refused to go down without a fight.
Her lungs began to ache for air. Meredith forced herself to be calm as she steeled herself, searching her memory for the right spell. The grasping hands continued to cling to her. She focused and let her magic flow outwards.
‘Magnis Velkar!’ Meredith thought as she willed the magic to conduct itself to her intention.
BWOOM!
A large, invisible force ripped the water away from Meredith. She was suddenly no longer submerged. She sat up, choking up water but otherwise thankful to gasp the rank air, and wiped her eyes. The hands were no more, and the water had been thrown outwards but was slowly seeping back. Meredith staggered up from the muddy silt and looked around. The hag floundered further away, having been tossed onto her back, but there was no sight of Meredith’s broom.
“Broom!” She called out, extending her arm. It zoomed into her hand and launched her upwards into the tree canopy.
“You won’t get away that easily!” The hag yelled after her.
Meredith swung onto her broom as she broke through the knotted branches blocking her path upward. Just as she laid eyes on the filtered sky beyond the trees, they began to creak and fold in on themselves. Their gnarled branches closed in on her, enveloping her in darkness. Meredith blasted her way forward, and then a hairy vine snagged her leg and pulled. She struggled against it, slowly losing her grip on her broom. The vine yanked, and Meredith was ripped away and plummeted toward the murky water below.
“Aah!” Meredith cried out in panic. She landed in the muck—hard. The vine dragged her across the muddy swamp bottom. Her arms flailed uselessly above her head. Bog water rushed up her nose and choked her as she was ripped over knobby roots. Somehow, she kept hold of her wand.
Eventually, she was wrenched upwards and out of the water. Meredith sputtered and gagged as she hung upside down by her ankle, dazed. She retched and coughed as her chest convulsed to clear her waterlogged lungs. Meredith’s beaten limbs dangled limply, her mud-soaked robe clung to her frame, and her collected grime sloughed back into the water.
She forced her stinging eyes open as more vines emerged from the swamp and crept around her body. They created a cocoon around her and titled her right side up. Meredith was able to gag up some water.
Another murky geyser erupted before Meredith. The bog hag emerged and sloshed towards her.
“What a lively little witch you are.” Auntie Edna pinched Meredith’s cheek between her long, dirty nails. “And how supple! You’ll go great with tonight’s stew!”
Meredith reeled in disgust and hatred for the hag. She struggled against the vines but to no avail.
Auntie Edna cackled as the vines maneuvered her horizontally in the air and lowered her into the swamp. Meredith stared up at the scraggly branches above. Scant light ripped through the slight gaps. Meredith was terrified they’d be the last thing she ever saw. The hag’s face loomed over her.
“I’ll leave you here to marinate a while.” She smiled and licked her lips.
Horror overtook Meredith as she descended. She felt the water seep through the vines. She closed her eyes and took a final, difficult breath as she was submerged in the putrid bog. Everything was silent. Meredith wiggled and squirmed as desperation erupted within her, but she couldn’t escape. Her lungs and stomach ached. Meredith resisted the urge to cough as she slowly ran out of air.
The young witch stopped and calmed herself. She ignored her pain and discomfort as she searched her mind for anything to help her. Anger replaced her fear. She refused to die!
A memory of Thomas’ teachings stuck out in her mind. She had one final gambit. Renewed confidence and vigor surged within her. Meredith focused her magic and intention as she recited the incantation in her mind.
‘Fyra Lunai Velra!’
FWOOM!
White flames enveloped Meredith and scorched the vines, quickly burning them away. Meredith sat up and cleared her eyes. The water within the lunar flames had vaporized while the surrounding water simmered at the edge of Meredith’s flickering magic. She stood up within her crater and coughed. Her flames wavered momentarily, but Meredith regained her concentration and kept her magic flowing.
The hag—who had turned to leave—whipped her crooked head around and stared at Meredith, aghast. The young witch raised her wand and prepared to blast Auntie Edna. Shock erupted across her crooked face. But then a jolt of pain stabbed Meredith’s stomach. She winced and doubled over slightly. It felt like her insides were twisting.
In that moment of hesitation, the bog hag flung her clawed arm upwards, sending a wave of murky water crashing toward Meredith. She flinched back, but the wave gently evaporated away as it collided with her flames.
The hag screamed in rage, then summoned another army of muddy hands out of the muck, but they all sizzled away as they failed to penetrate Meredith’s encapsulating fire.
The hunger pains slowly subsided. Meredith knew she couldn’t hold the spell for much longer, as it was swiftly draining her magic, and she felt in no shape to fight. She needed to get out of there.
“Broom!” Meredith called out.
Rage and terror spread across the hag’s face as she commanded vines and branches to lash against Meredith, only to be incinerated.
“Enough!” Meredith whipped her wand forward. The hag’s eyes bulged in shock as a white blaze erupted from Meredith’s wand, smashing into the wretched woman.
“Yargh!” The hag flailed backward into her swamp, flailing about, awash in unfettered lunar flames.
Meredith was astonished. How had she done that? There was no time to worry about it. Meredith’s broom whistled through the air, passed through her blaze, and stopped just before her. She quickly mounted it, then rocketed upwards. The white inferno surrounding her burned away at the thick mass of gnarled tree branches as they caved in on her. She burst through and emerged from the dank swamp and into the open air. She veered up and sped back towards Greenwood like a flaming comet.
Eventually, when Meredith was sure she hadn’t been followed, and the trees turned bright, familiar, and friendly, she slowed to a coast. She sighed in exhaustion and ended her spell. The flames wisped out of existence, and the resultant fatigue and hunger pains immediately racked her. She tried to let the tension roll off her shoulders, but a curdling feeling rose within her. Meredith emptied her stomach of swamp water, and it fell into the forest below. Meredith’s concentration on flying faltered as she sagged onto her broom. She lay her head on the handle and idled mid-air while catching her breath.
“Thanks, broom,” Meredith gasped.
It shuddered beneath her.
When Meredith’s pain and hunger subsided to a more tolerable level, she sat up and sifted through her bag. She fished out a glass bottle of water and a biscuit and scarfed them down. The clean, cool water soothed her throat. When Meredith was finished, she started home again. The wind whipped her hair and robes backward, drying them as she flew.
“All that for a few mushrooms,” Meredith murmured, looking down at her scratched and bruised arms. She shook her head and sighed in resigned frustration. She remembered the thieving Guillermo and suddenly understood how he had felt. She’d have to watch her words more carefully, and she still hadn’t talked to Patricia about it!
When Meredith arrived home, dry but smelly, she went into the sitting room where Thomas and Cici sat and informed them of her ordeal in the swamp.
“I hope you learned a valuable lesson,” Thomas replied when she was finished.
“What’s that?” Meredith asked sarcastically. “Don’t fly into strange swamps?”
“Strike first,” he stated flatly.
Meredith raised her eyebrows and curled her lip. She hadn’t thought of that. She had never considered herself one to start fights.
“It’s a dangerous world we live in.” Thomas blinked. “Strike first and strike hard.”
“Good to know,” Meredith said tersely. She stomped to the washroom.
Later that night, Meredith had difficulty falling asleep.
“Are you okay?” Cici asked, curled beside her.
“Yeah,” Meredith lied. “I’m fine. Just can’t sleep.”
Her racing thoughts constantly returned to the bog hag’s wretched smile.
Here's a little something to fuel you wet dreams:
Or maybe you prefer this one? You dirty lil thang, you.
try to be brave. It reminds me of a few things from my time in the military, some of which is stated by Grandma early on, but I won't repeat them: "We don't rise to the level of our expectations; we fall to the level of our training."- Archilochus. I hope I conveyed Meredith's training and confrontation effectively.
On a less serious note, the bog hag was heavily inspired by Auntie Ethel from Baldur's Gate 3! I better not see any sexy fan art of Auntie Edna floating around! ??
Enjoying Meredith’s misadventures? Tap that ? to help more readers find the chaos! Don't be stingy with the bog hag lewds!
Favorite pic of Auntie Edna
