The Dumb Witch

The Dumb Witch?
	Once upon a foul swamp, lived a small witch by the name of Maeva.  She was a part of a small coven of trainee witches who were to go out into the world to do good for humankind.  The trainees were under the care of Miss Malakee and Miss Zessy, two of the most wisest of all witches.  They knew every spell there was to know and every potion that any witch could make.  Their teaching was strict but for any witch under their charge for a year would come out a master. Except for dumb little Maeva.
	Maeva was an unfortunate dreamer, always seeking to create a dazzling spell of her own or a potion of powerful worth.  Yet with each spell came a hex upon herself that would turn her lips into rocky crags or another student into a toad for a month.  Despite her failures, Malakee and Zessy still continued to train her, despite her constant failure year after year.  And despite all their discipline and their encouragement, Maeva had barely improved.  It was beginning to tax the wise duo.
	“Oh Maeva darling, “ said Zessy as she inspected a potted plant that once was a beautiful rose now turned to a horrific fly trap, “are you certain you are trying?”
	“Most certainly Madam Zessy! I always want to give my spells a twist!” Maeva despite her failure, had sparkles in her eyes. Always hoping that her most wise of teachers would see it her way.
	“This has been tiresome Maeva,” cried Malakee, “you’ve been with us for the 4th year and yet you have yet to retain any of the knowledge we have passed to you in order to fill your spells with…what was it you called?”
	“Zazz my wisest!”
	“Yes, exactly, that!” She angrily retorted, “Do you not realize you’re filling your head with nonsense? Have you not read the texts we provided? Remembered the advice we gave you?”
	Maeva frowned and spoke, “But I do recall your advice! And the texts are much too hard for me to understand and remember! I truly do my best but I merely wanted to show you-“
	“Enough,” spoke Zessy gravely, “it is clear to us that you clearly do not care for the art of witchcraft.  You insist with your failed creations on the daily basis that it does nothing to help humanity or even yourself.  Therefore you are permanently dismissed from this coven as of today.”
	“But surely my wise-“
	“NOT ANOTHER WORD! Begone with you!” Zessy shouted and with the wave of her hand, Maeva was blown away from the cottage that housed the duo, sent flying miles and miles away until she landed into the waters of the swamp.  Her broken heart almost made her want to drown.  Yes, just let the abyss of this swamp take you down, she thought, who would care that such a witch died here?
	But then, a feeling began to overtake Maeva’s body. It made her body tremble, her heart began to beat faster, her blood boiled and her mind began to race.  Like a rocket, she burst fourth from the swampy waters with a bloody grimace across her face.  “YEARS!” She shouted, storming upon the dry land, “I spent YEARS trying to create something of my own and I make a mockery of witchery!?”
	She tore the tall grass apart in a whirlwind of tantrum, throwing rock and debris all over the place.  “Why if I had their wisedom, their power, I would show them! They cannot keep my power in check with their good for nothing snobbery!”  That was then an idea came to the witch of little intellect.  Not all her creations were failures.  Yes there was a certain potion a while back that worked. The potion was only tested upon a deer but not on a human or rather a witch.  A wicked smile came across the witch’s face as she withdrew into the darkness of the swampy woods, a faint snicker echoing about.
	Wheat, swamp gas, green tea, a frog’s brain, all stuffed and stirred inside a boiling pot.  With lastly a drop of blood…her own blood and tomorrow would be hers.
	At the coven’s cottage, Zessy and Malakee were on their break from educating the trainees when a knock on the door was heard.  “Ah it must be the delivery from the local baker I asked,” said Zessy with hungry anticipation,  “come Malakee, you must try their tea!” The door opened to a small fellow in a hood covered in straw, carrying a boiling pot and a basket filled with treats.
	“Greetings my-err madams! You called for our goods and our goods you shall have!”  Said the gentlemen excitedly, “we’re always happy to please the local coven!”
	The duo raised their eyebrows at the strange fellow but nevertheless began their small afternoon feast.  The gentlemen happily served the witches their tea, a simple mix of green tea. And for their meal, some pastries with pumpkin spice.
	“Delightful, simple delightful, “said Malakee, “I must ask kind sir, how were these made?”
	The gentlemen smiled, “Oh you know, just simple things! Green leaves and wheat!”
	Zessy looked at him curiously, “Wheat? That’s st-“
	“And Swamp gas. Frog brain….” The gentlemen went on, grimly staring at the duo.   Their cups fell to the floor.  Zessy began to shriek in horror, grabbing hold of her head as it began to expand horrifically.  Malakee began to moan sickly as the sides of her head began to puff up uncontrollably.
	“Blood of the trainee you abandoned…”  With the true revealed, the gentlemen stripped his face off revealing Maeva to be underneath, “How do you like my lunch for you my wisest? My smartest? MY MASTERS!?”
	They could only respond in howls of pain as they fell to the floor.  Their heads had become giant loaves of breads.  Their bodies twitched about, desperately seeking a response from their brains but it was too late.  Maeva stood before them, her mouth ajar, layered with fangs upon fangs.  “Now let us begin this wonderful lesson! Your wisdom, your knowledge oh what a wonderful feast!”
	And thus the dumb witch had consumed the wise.