The Difference Between Witch and Wizard

Chapter the Fourth

The girl stood before Walter the tree, previously known as Walter the wizard, with her arms crossed and an incredulous look on her face.
For his part, Walter, had he a face with features disposed to the arrangement of incredulity, and were he able to bend his branches far enough to cross over one another, would have looked a mirror image to Mira's skepticism.
The bird was back in his pine tree (having evicted a squirrel from his nest, an unpleasant experience that had left him quite disoriented and with a ringing headache), watching this stand off with no lack of puzzlement.
It had been surprisingly easy to talk the girl into following him to the forest. The sparrow surmised that she must have been either extremely trusting or extremely eager to leave home. As he knew very little about the girl and did not make it his practice to judge the actions of others, he decided not to care either way and simply led her to Walter.
Mira had sensed something watching her a day or so before the sparrow spoke to her. She was shocked to hear words coming from the beak of a bird, but she hid her astonishment well and carried out a rather civilized conversation before the sparrow inquired as to whether she would be willing to accompany him to meet a wizard.
What the sparrow had failed to mention was that this wizard was a tree.
A tree that expected her to turn him back into a man.
Well, not her per se.
Walter was astonished that the bird had brought him a girl. He had been expecting Vangard the Lonely, and if not Vangard then perhaps an apprentice of his, or maybe a lumberjack who would at least know something about trees (but hopefully not one carrying an ax), or an old man who at the very least looked like a wizard, or in the worst case scenario, absolutely nobody.
But a girl?
A farm girl, at that.
Not even a trained witch, which would have been only mildly insulting, but a girl who milked goats and fed chickens and apparently talked to animals.
Walter could not wrap his head around this new situation.
He cleared his throat (not that he possessed a throat just at the moment, but it was a sound that commanded attention).
"So...not a wizard, then?" he already knew the answer to this, but felt that it needed to be stated aloud.
"No." the girl said, just at the same exact moment that a resounding
"Yes!"
was heard from the pine tree.
Both the girl and Walter looked up. (Physically for one and figuratively for the other; Walter's range of motion wasn't what it used to be. All the same, the sparrow felt two sets of eyes on him and fluttered down to land on a tree closer to their viewpoint.)
"What do you mean, 'yes'?" Mira demanded.
"Well, you're the right color." the sparrow felt that this was enough of an explanation, and was completely baffled that the girl was not aware that she was a wizard.
She held an arm out in front of her.
"What, you mean pinkish-red? I get burnt easy, being outside and all --"
"No, not your skin. You." the bird rolled his eyes. Humans. Always making things difficult. And this tree really was no better. "You're almost the same color as a wizard. They're usually a greenish yellow, but you're more of a yellowy green, which I thought was slightly odd, but still the right color range for a wizard. I figured you  must have your reasons for being a slightly different color..." the bird trailed off.
Walter and Mira continued to stare at the sparrow. The tree was the first to collect his thoughts.
"Look, are you at least a practicing witch?"
The girl shook her head.
"Not with the brewing of all those herbs and such. Can't abide 'em."
"Well, what's the difference between a witch and a wizard, anyway?" the sparrow asked.
There was a lengthy pause. The girl wasn't sure if it was meant to build suspense or if the tree was gathering his thoughts. She waited. It was a nice day, and the breeze really was quite lovely here. She wasn't in a hurry to get back home.
"Well," the tree finally began, "the girl said it herself. Witches use herbs and all that nonsense. Always standing over their cauldrons, witches."
Mira seemed satisfied with this answer, but the sparrow, who had seen quite a bit more of the world than she, did not find it at all acceptable.
"You're meaning to tell me that you've never brewed a potion?" he asked the tree (formerly a wizard).
"Well, not in a while. I mean, it's been a few years. Perhaps when I was training to be a wizard, in my younger days--"
"You didn't use herbs?" Mira asked.
"Only a few."
"So you were a witch, then?" asked the sparrow.
"Certainly not!" huffed the wizard (now a tree). "It was completely different! We weren't using a cauldron!" he used the word with obvious disdain.
"That can't be the only difference."
"Witches wear hats!"
"So do wizards." retorted the sparrow.
"Ah, yes, but witches wear black hats."
For a moment there was a stunned silence, and then from the bird:
"Rubbish! What else have you got?"
"Well, witches are big on nature and that sort of thing. You don't see wizards out in fields at midnight picking some kind of nonsensical plant by the light of the moon and all that. I mean, you don't see a wizard out in the forest communing with birds and trees and, well...er..." the wizard trailed off into a slightly less stunned and more puzzled silence, with a bit of slight discomfort thrown in for good measure.
The tree at least had the good grace to look somewhat embarrassed at his last statement, though it was hard to discern this from the bark. He rather looked like he was just standing there.
"Erm...well..." he stammered at length, "the main difference is that witches use things to cast their spells, and wizards just do it. Also, girls can't be wizards."
The sparrow openly balked at this (a rather comical sight in itself), while the girl merely raised an eyebrow.
"Can't be wizards?" the sparrow repeated in disbelief.
"Yes, and don't even start in about what color she is!" Walter snapped.
"But she can understand me! Look, she can understand you! Normal people can't do that!"
"Well, maybe she's a witch then."
"Yes, alright, but --"
"Girls can't be wizards!" the tree repeated furiously, a few of his branches rustling.
The quiet this time was shorter but more pronounced.
"May I point something out?" asked the girl.
"I suppose." grumbled the wizard who dearly wished he could stalk away and slam a door.
"It doesn't really seem to matter right now what I may or may not be. Seems to me that either way, you are in need of my help."
The tree sniffed to show its indifference (another unnecessary sound effect, as trees lack any nostrils to speak of).
"You, my dear, are not a wizard. I require the skills of a trained wizard. Not those of a farm girl, charming as you may be."
"Suit yourself." Mira shrugged and turned to go.
There was a brief but extremely intense internal struggle that the wizard now faced which also could not be detected by the casual observer. Or even a dedicated one, for that matter. Bark truly is an unforgiving medium. The girl was out of the clearing and onto the path leading out of the forest before Walter called:
"Wait! Come back!"
The sparrow watched the way she had gone with great curiosity. It was a toss up as to whether or not she would come back. She had seemed to want to be out in the world, in need of a great adventure -- she'd certainly not been slow to leave the farm where the sparrow had found her, and not once had seemed concerned about hurrying back. On the other wing, the wizard was being an a*s.
Seconds went by much in the same manner that they'd become accustomed to since the measurement of time was invented, but the wizard felt them more keenly. He didn't want to send this daft bird back out into the wide world to find a wizard for him a second time, considering he'd been brought a girl on the first try. What might the sparrow bring him next?
Walter had just decided he'd better strike up another rousing chorus of 'The Hedgehog Song' (a popular pub song from his apprenticing days, remembered fondly) in an attempt to rouse another forest minion into action when the girl reappeared.
"Yes?"
"Oh! Well, I...ah...good. This is what you can do." he again cleared his imaginary throat. "Follow the river north from--"
"Is that what you lot call an apology?" the girl crossed her arms and raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"Er...um...apology?" stammered the wizard, puzzled at the theft of his dramatic momentum (and at the very beginning, no less).
"Yes. An apology. You were exceedingly rude, you called me a farm girl --"
"Which you are."
"Yes, but in belittling tones, and you said that girls can't be wizards --"
"Because they cannot."
"But you yelled it and I came all this way and really you're just being unpleasant and I would like an apology."
Silence during which the girl was fairly certain that she was a participant in a staring contest. Not that she could tell for sure, but she would certainly not be the first to look away. After a time she shrugged.
"Very well then." she said and then did have to look away because she was turning once again to go back the way she came.
"Alright! I apologize!" the tree sputtered.
The girl turned back.
"Ah, good. Now if I may continue --"
"For what?" the girl again interrupted.
"For to give you precise instructions --"
"They're not really that precise." whispered the bird.
"I'll have you know that I have sent dozens of knights and stable boys out on quests, and not one has ever questioned my impeccable directions!"
The girl held up her hand.
"That's all well and good, but what are you apologizing for?"
"What?"
"Your apology. What is it for?"
"For those things you said just then."
"Which was...?" the girl prompted.
The wizard sighed.
"I apologize for being exceedingly rude and calling you a farm girl."
"And...?"
"Look, girls can't be wizards. I'm not taking that back."
Mira put her hands on her hips.
"But I'm sorry for yelling it. Now can I get on with it?"
The girl nodded.
"Right, then. Follow the river north from here for three days. On that sundown you will come to the doorstep of Vangard the Lonely. He lives in the side of the hill. Tell him--"
"Old Van? He's not there anymore."
This gave Walter pause. He was not accustomed to being interrupted in such a fashion while giving directions for quests and imparting wizardly advice.
"Beg pardon?"
"He started a bakery."
"'Old Van'?..." the wizard echoed in disbelief.
"Yep. Best cupcakes you've ever had."
"Vangard the Lonely? A baker? Why in the world would he do that?"
"Well...he was lonely, I suppose. He got married, opened a bakery, and had five babies. Reckon he's not lonely any more."
"Not hardly." the tree said in a distracted way, his mind miles away.
"It's probably for the best. They say wizards shouldn't marry."
"Yes, that's what I've heard." he mumbled, still thinking.
Vangard the Lonely was lonely no longer, and clearly out of the wizarding business.
There weren't many wizards around these parts, and even fewer that Walter felt he could trust to change him back into respectable human form. Really, Vangard had been his only plan. He hadn't anyone in mind for a backup.
The girl was saying something about pastry, but Walter tuned her out. It wasn't as though she could tell whether he was listening or not anyway; he didn't physically have eyes that would noticeably glaze over or stare off in another direction.
So he thought.
And thought.
And already had his answer but kept on thinking, because it was not the answer that he wanted.
The girl was trying to explain the inner workings of a jelly doughnut to the sparrow, who was listening intently with his head cocked to the side. He was following along rather well for someone who'd never actually had jelly before.
Walter sighed and again ran through his rather short list of wizards and mages who were still living and might be of assistance.  He kept coming back to the same name. He sighed again.
"Very well." he said, interrupting the girl describing the differences between custard and cream.
"Here is what I need you to do..."

Author's Note

Thank you for reading!
Comments are welcomed!

Reviews

[SweetNutmeg]

What fun! You are the master of the random. Jelly doughnuts?

[JLGottschalk]

I'm glad you enjoyed it! Jelly doughnuts, indeed. They are certainly magical confections...

[SweetNutmeg]

I was describing the sparrow jelly doughnut conversation to a friend and he couldn't stop laughing. This is a great story.

[JLGottschalk]

Thank you! This is most encouraging, to know that someone is not only enjoying my work but talking about it as well. I truly appreciate that!

[Peninsula Pariah]

I love it when wizards are humbled. And by a wee lass, fancy that. I see a good book shaping. I'll be along for the ride

[JLGottschalk]

Thank you! I am very excited and extremely flattered to have a constant reader. I am glad that my story entertains you. Is your daughter still diggin it?

[Peninsula Pariah]

Yes, going to get her caught up on it soon!