"Let's go," Aribelle barked from the doorway, causing Agatha to start.
Agatha felt dread infuse her being as she looked to Aribelle standing in the doorway. Gone was the infant she rescued in the woods. Gone was the inquisitive young girl who's curious and incessant questions had landed her in trouble --and grayed many a hair on Agatha's head-- more often than not. Aribelle's beauty had morphed from childish innocence to a full-fledged woman; all five feet, eight inches of her form, was curvy and toned. Aribelle's eyes were the same striking shade of blue as her father's, her hair a dark chestnut like her mother's. Her features were soft and feminine; she had dark arched eyebrows, a pert nose, full pink lips, high cheekbones. Aribelle's leathers fit snugly against her frame, her sleeveless top showing an indecent amount of cleavage, and her pants and boots were covered in straps that held her daggers. Agatha gulped at the vision before her. This did not look to be a normal day of lessons and training. Aribelle looked like she was going to The Pit with the full intention of killing Wren.
"Momma!" Aribelle snapped.
Agatha snapped out of her trance, her worry for Wren's well-being distracting her from the fury burning in Aribelle's eyes, fiery anger that still burned, even after a dose of sulann and recharging of the crystals.
"So sorry, dear, I was just admiring your beauty," Agatha mumbled, grabbing the wicker basket full of snacks and a jug of both water and juice.
As the door closed behind them, Agatha drew her cloak tighter around her to ward off the chill. The gray sky above was just visible through the canopy of trees, and a chilling mist covered the ground so thickly that they could not see their feet as they walked through the woods. Aribelle sighed loudly, causing Agatha to glance at her daughter from the corner of her eye. Aribelle was smiling, her shoulders relaxed, as was her gait. Agatha kept her face a mask of serenity as they walked, never showing how much it had always bothered her, knowing that the sound of scurrying animals and people alike was a soothing sound that lulled Aribelle into such a peaceful state.
Deeper into the forest, Agatha knew they were quickly approaching The Pit and snapped a low hanging branch from a nearby tree. If they were not careful in the mist, they would tumble down the steps or directly over the edge, and nobody fell a thousand feet without being gravely injured or dying.
"Never mind the stick, Momma, I can see perfectly fine," Aribelle said with a roll of her eyes.
"Oh?" Agatha asked, surprised. "When did you develop such keen eyesight?"
"About ten moons ago," Aribelle answered dismissively, pointing to the ground directly to her right. "Right here is where you will need to step down."
Agatha stepped forward, then realized that Aribelle had excluded herself from the directions.
"Wait, what do you mean where I will--"
A shrill scream of terror echoed through the forest as Aribelle leaped from the edge of The Pit. Despair and sorrow crippled Agatha, who fell directly to her knees, unable to stifle her sobs.
"My child! My child! Not my baby! Not my beauty," Agatha cried repeatedly.
"Goddess! Whatever is the matter, my dear Agatha?" A woman asked, rushing to Agatha's kneeling form, wrapping her tightly into a warm embrace.
"Oh, Mari! It's Aribelle. I don't know what made her do it. I don't know why she would. I can't look. I can't see her like that," Agatha mumbled nearly incoherent.
Mari's gray brows drew together in confusion, her wrinkled face pinching.
"My friend, you aren't making any sense. What is it that Aribelle has done?" Mari asked.
"She jumped! Over the Goddess damned edge!" Agatha screamed.
Mari let out a tinkling laugh that felt like a slap in the face to Agatha. Never would she have thought her friend of many years would laugh in her face over the death of Aribelle, the child Mari herself watched and helped raise.
"You have the wrong of it, my dear friend. Aribelle's been doing that reckless stunt for many moons. I, too, became practically hysterical the first time I witnessed her diving off the edge of The Pit. But she is perfectly fine and likely already sparring down there. You've nothing to fret over, go see for yourself before you mourn a daughter you have not lost," Mari said gently.
"You've seen her do this before and never thought to tell me? This is madness! She could die!" Agatha said, her body quaking with tremors as the warmth of impossible hope warred with the chilling image of a broken Aribelle that kept flashing in Agatha's mind.
Mari gave her a long, strange look before saying gently, but firmly, "Perhaps you should speak to Aribelle about this."
Agatha snorted loudly, shaking her head and raising her fist in front of her friend's face.
"I am asking you. Why have you not discussed this with me? If Aribelle is out of control, I need to know. I cannot protect anyone, including her, from herself if I do not know these things," Agatha fumed.
"Aggie, you really should speak to Aribelle. But I will say that if I thought anyone, including Aribelle, was in any danger, I would have brought it directly to your attention," Mari said, sounding hurt.
Agatha was growing more worried about Aribelle's behavior by the minute; she just discovered that Aribelle's vision was developing into that of a true beast of the night, and now this? What else was Aribelle hiding from her? She wondered. Then there was Mari, who should have come straight to her with knowledge of Aribelle leaping from the edge of a thousand-foot drop, but instead, Mari had kept that hidden from her as well.
"I know that. Of course, you would. I am sorry. My emotions are just a little frayed right this second. I'll catch up with you later, I am going to go see with my own eyes that Aribelle is alright," Agatha said half-heartedly.
Only half of her words were sincere. Yesterday, she would have never questioned Mari's loyalty to her, to their coven. Today, everything seemed so different. It was quite odd. She had been worrying herself over discussing some very important changes with Aribelle later tonight, but it appeared that over the past several months, things had been changing in Jurot. How much changed, Agatha did not know, but she would get to the bottom of things tonight, and goddess willing, she could keep the beast tamed as she implemented these changes.
Her legs still felt shaky and weak as she descended the steps into The Pit, but Agatha pressed on. After twenty minutes, she reached the bottom step and entered the training area. The Pit was a mile long on all four sides, filled with steaming springs, a waterfall, and towering pine trees. It was a private forest dedicated to only training for magic and battle, a secluded area where the lives of others would not be interrupted or endangered by inexperienced witches, beasts, and the few humans who had sworn loyalty but declined the gift of a beast counterpart.
Agatha walked towards Aribelle's favored training area, where the more skilled swordsmen sparred. A particularly icy patch of dirt had her grasping onto thorny bushes to keep her balance, tiny pinpricks of pain radiating up her arm. After her near fall, Agatha strolled carefully through the woods, noting there were no sounds of distress, just the usual grunts of exertion, yelps of pain, and shouts of triumph. With each passing minute, Agatha grew more reassured by Mari's earlier words of confidence that Aribelle had easily survived the jump over the edge. What was not reassuring was that Agatha could not convince herself that any excuse Aribelle gave her would be sound enough to justify why in the Goddess' name she chose to jump in the first place.