The Battle for the Beetleroot

'I am Wizard Criminee' the bespectacled boy bowed 'I'll be taking that Beetleroot...'

Estrima punched him in the face.

As if she’d let a man deter her! Her father and elder brothers, all were useless. And what was a “wizard” anyway?

‘No, you won’t. This is in my forest!’ She declared proudly ‘I am a witch!’

‘An itch? You need a balm?’

‘You dare call me weak!’ Estrima bellowed. That’s what everyone called her. ‘If you want my plant – Fight!’

‘You just broke my snout!’ he cried, coating his nose in yellow ointment. The swelling disappeared.

‘I am mortally afraid of you! But for my medicine...’ He sighed ‘How would you like to compete?’

Estrima squinted.

‘Faunaspeak?’ he proposed, lifting his hand. Commotion followed.

She gasped. Crows came flocking and surrounded them in every direction, cawing over their heads. What was that?

‘Too easy.’ She lied, covering her ears.

‘Spells, then?’ he started muttering something.

Estrima saw tiny drops of dew fly above their heads! They spread out in front of her, displaying her freckled face. A mirror!

She gaped at it, then squinted at Criminee.

He was good! Estrima was extremly annoyed. She felt the same, when her brothers boasted their magical achievements, ending with “But poor Estrima! She belongs to no class of magic!”

But she could listen to tiny whisperings hidden from the corner of everyone’s eyes. Spirits!

And she had decided to shut those men up!

They asked her ‘Which spectrum colour are you?’

‘Witch.’ She would answer. Then, this guy came!

‘Listen, let’s do it fast.’ He urged urgently ‘Lives depend on my medicine.’

She squinted. There was only one thing she could do.

‘Come!’ she pleaded, cupping her hands together.

A small spark twinkled in between her palms. She looked around her, spirits glittered everywhere, between trees, under the Beetleroot, in her tangled hair.

‘This is spirit talking!’ To her surprise, he exclaimed ‘I’ve never seen anyone do this before!’ Like a child, he clapped his hands. Removing his glasses, he came peering into her palms.

‘You are truly amazing!’ he grinned. No one had ever called her “amazing” before.

‘You are truly weird.’ she commented slowly.

‘Yes, that’s from where I got “Wizard”.’ He nodded, bowing politely ‘How unfortunate! I lost. You are too strong for me! Still I want this Beetleroot...’

She boxed his teeth this time. Wrombizongs! His modesty was too insulting!

‘Why are you bullying me?’ he rubbed his bleeding lip.

‘The Beetleroot. You can have it.’ Shrugging, she turned away.

‘Really? Th...’

‘I’m not helping you.’ she coughed. ‘But I hope you succeed. Your medicine will be amazing.’

‘Thanks.’ She heard him dig. ‘Anyway, Why would you think you are weak? My mother taught me everything and she is really strong.’

‘Is that so?’ Perhaps, the “Wizard” was not so bad.

Then it clicked.

‘Wait! That means I am not the first witch?’

He had disappeared.

‘Wrombizongs!’ She yelled at the woods ‘I hate men!’