"Little hut little hut, turn your back to the forest, and to me with your front." I hear someone chanting my home's not so secret password. Next thing I know, the forest is filled with creaking and crashing as my izba positions herself Infront of whoever decided to come visit at four in the afternoon, when I usually enjoy a casual nap.

Understandably cranky, I drag my arthritic knees to the door way, and open the viewing latch. "What?" I snap at the young, blonde haired man Infront of it.

He seems startled by me. "Grandma... Yaga?" He hesitantly asks. "Do I look like a grandma to you, you crosseyed imbecile?" I spit out at him. He stammers"I-I'm sorry, I j-just was looking for t-the witch-" "Well, you found him." I cut him off. I have very little patience for people dumb enough to wake me up from an afternoon nap. "What do you want?"

He swallowed, and tried again. "There's this girl-" "I don't do love potions." I say flatly. "Last time I made it too strong. Corrupted the entire genetic line to keep falling in love with itself." I muttered. Those German bastards still tried coming for me on occasion. Something ending with burg, I think. I'm terrible with names.

"No no, sir!" He shook his head violently. "We are already engaged and in love." He paused, seemingly embarrassed. I decided to take the opportunity. "Well, I'm glad everything is resolved then." And shut the latch.

No sooner did I close the window that he started banging on it. I opened it up again, even more annoyed. "What now?" The exasperated teen looked at mr with shocked eyes. "That was incredibly rude!" He had the audacity to say to me.

"Rude? You think that's rude? I'll tell you what's rude." I shove my right hand through the latch and grab him by the scruff of the neck. " Rude would be barging into someone else's forest clearing, moving their house without permission, incidentally waking them up from a scheduled nap, than demanding they help me with whatever problem I happen to have." I rasped at the youth ashe tried to free himself from my hands. Old though I might be, I could steel crack damascened blades with my bare palms. "In the old days, I'd make you into piroshki for when my nephews comes to visit" I see his deep brown eyes widen in horror, and I smirk, showing off my sharpened steel teeth. "But I've been told that this is frowned upon these days." I let him go and he stumbles back.

He falls on his knees. "I'm sorry sir! Please don't eat me or my future children!" He cackle at that. It's a good cackle that took long practice hours to perfect. "Get up kid." He hurriedly obeys my instructions. "Now, from the start- what do you want, and get to the point."

He nods." My name is Ivan" of course it is. "And I'm engaged to a wonderful girl named Chloe. The thing is" he pauses, gathers breath and proceeds." Her stepmother hates her. Passionately so. And we think she cursed her." He seems embarrassed to say that. Probably didn't believe in curses until recently.

I nod. "What is the effect? What does the curse do?" I ask him. Different curses require different cures which require different payments. "She got sick. Coughing blood constantly. Can't breathe." Sounds like TB to me, I think. "We thought she got tuberculosis" Ivan said, almost as if reading my mind."But twelve doctors found nothing. She's perfectly healthy. Except she's dying." He is crying at this point.

Could be one of a few things. Let's see-" You got something of hers?" He nodded. "Yeah, her favourite pen. Grandma said to bring something she uses a lot." I was about to chide him, but then I saw the pen. It was well used, but still clearly exquisite. The damn thing could likely buy a castle. "Alright, let me see."

Indeed, I see. "She's got a blood curse. Hold on a second." I go through my closet, and come back with three items. "Give the earnings to the stepmother first. She doesn't have to wear them, but she must at least touch them." They are gentle silver earrings with tine sapphires. "Next have Chloe wear this ring, willingly, and have her drink this after six pm, but no later than 9pm." He looked confused. "Not midnight? You sure?"

I give him an annoyed look."You want my help or not?" He nodded once and shut up. "After that, bury the ring. Cemetery grounds would be best, but any hole deeper than two meters." He looked confused. "Look it up. I refuse to acknowledge the imperial system. The French gave very few worthwhile contributions to the world, and I'm not going to ignore one of the most useful ones."

He clearly had no idea how to respond, so he just moved on. "Umm... About the payment... We're fairly rich..." I'd say so. That was one impressive pen." Do I look like I have a use for money?" He swallowed again, harder this time. "Then... What do you want? I ... I can't... I won't let you eat my children..." He says in what probably should have been hard defiance but came out as meek protest.

I give him an incredulous look. "What is it with you and child eating? Projecting, by any chance?" He starts to stammer something that I ignore. " No, I haven't eaten children since the twelfth century, and even that was an accident." Stupid brat fell into my cauldron and snapped his neck while drowning. Ruined that borsch completely. "I want a warm meal delivered every weekday, before twelve but after nine am, for five years. And no repeats within the month." Now it's his turn to look incredulous. "That's...it?" I shrug. "I'm old, rheumatic and still do gardening. Some food each day that I didn't cook will certainly ease my life." I think of something. "Oh, and make it no contact. Hate dealing with people." He eagerly nods and shakes my hand, leaving to cure his lady.

Ahh, another satisfied costumer.

As she lay foaming at the mouth she could only point to the cellar door. He wept and wept as he wiped her mouth but he did not want to leave her. She seized further and pointed more until the energy was being further sapped.

--What? What is it my love? Tell me?

She touched his cheek and then his heart and whispered. No, she did not whisper, she was reciting the Coincidencia Apositorium onto him. She had passed it onto him, as she too, passed away from the world. He bolted to the cellar door and opened it with one hand, with the other wiping his face.

It was dark but a foul smell was emitting that it burnt his nostrils. He felt his way onto the stone walls. The burning that was in his nostrils now extended into his heart and without warning, all of the torches lit without warning.

It was all there. The apothecarium, the tomes, the vials and the hexing tools. He would be the first. He did not understand? Did she impart him with a curse or a gift?

Her dying wish was to be fed back to nature. Wiping the ink stains on his face he took her body to the glades where she would be fed back to the world. This was the first incident of a absent initiation.

--

Cynomia had been revered for her witchcraft, and so it was to a surprise that when people approached her hut, they ran out of fear when a man glad in wolf-skin would greet them at the door. This was no witch that they had ever heard of. Or the witch had finally given into the other side.

The years passed by when he had no one. It was plenty of time to perfect his craft. He practiced and practiced and successfully broke three tracking hexes that Cynomia's enemies had placed adjacent to the hut once they learnt that a man had been initiated into the sisterhood.

But the years took their toll on him too. The rumors were starting to grow of the wolf-man who haunted the hut and he suspected that this too, was the work of the sisterhood to drown him out and forbid any male influence on the craft.

To this end, he crafted his own incantation. An incantation against fear:

Fear is the masked beast
That haunts the holy verses
I bid you stranger, to meet,
The wolf that cures the curses.

He laid these in rune form and blew them over the hut. It was experimental to say the least. But with his eyes weary and Cynomia's presence still over him, he was grasping at contact. Perhaps this was a curse after all.

At the twilight hour, a young man's voice cried out:

--Ho there! Wolf-man! Are you the wolf-man?

He turned out and looked in surprise.

A man holding a fair maiden who had seemed to be passed out was approaching the hut. A subtle glow beamed from him, to see people after so many years.

He always asked Cynomia how she knew she had the gift. And after many embraces and passionate nights, she yielded to him.

"There are cycles my love. Like the moon waxes and wanes. Events repeat. Once you see the event repeat itself purposefully, you have the calling"

[Poem]

My mother a warlock, my father a jinn. I was born on the night of halloween.

My powers are great, my looks are stunning. From my occult i receive a shunning.

How can this be when i merely exist. Those bitches of witches must be sexist.

Hunched back. Check. Crooked warty nose. Check. Oversized black hat with matching cloak. Also, check.

Who would argue that these features weren’t defining of a witch?

Apparently a vast number of my customers. Apparently being a man doesn’t suit a witch. No matter how much I tuck.

I even brought a cat would you believe it! All black, leaving trails of hair in all my food and clothes. Little Silica I called her.

Day in and out I spend my time stirring a large cauldron of bubbling broths and alchemical potions. Only today was slightly different.

One of my customers from last week got a little annoyed upon finding out my gender. I didn’t think much of it. Just because I'm a man, doesn’t mean I can’t do the job of a witch. However. In the eyes of a grieving widow, who spent an hour of my day moaning about how hard her life had gotten. I had committed a terrible act of fraud. As such I find myself shackled to a wall, deep within a cavern down the road from my shop that no doubt was being ransacked.

Such a shame. I had always dreamt of being a witch too. Nanny Bubblespot had always said I was very ‘witchy’. Though that might have just been witch speak for ‘you have a rather crooked nose’.

Suppose I'll have to quit now. Hang up my cloak. Begin partaking in morning yoga to straighten my back. Then again. Perhaps I simply wasn’t witchy enough for this town of dullards. When these despicable sorts set me free I shall procure a taller hat, a darker cloak and tuck myself a little further back. Perhaps at the cost of some functionality.

I shall rebrand. Reimage. And for a lack of better words, ram my alembic down this town's throat.

This town will sing the name of me. Witch Trunkpop!.

"We prefer the term warlock but someone decided there had to be an imbalance between witches and warlocks." Shouted a voice. Followed by a chorus of other voices both witch and warlock alike in agreement and unison.

"Yea who was the one that came up with that concept?" Shouted the witches of the primary coven of witches. "We know we didn't because it's interfering with taking care if the children."

"It wasn't us we realized long ago its a team effort." Said the tribunal members of the summoners. "Well as long as we understand what's going on that is."

"The collective is in agreement." All voices said in unison.

"God damn it..... that's what we all forgot to do." Eveyone said in unison. In that moment the problem was solved and people went home for some much needed rest.

They had an entire world to fix tommorow.

Deep in the Moonlight Forest, a strange floating island in space, a small thatch hut stands. Smoke leaks from a small hole in the woven roof; sometimes it's yellow, other times green, or even blue or pink.

Despite being situated in the most dangerous part of the Forest, where even gods and demons hesitate for fear of being eaten, this small hut was left alone. It was as if those horrific creatures, that would feast on the still-breathing bodies of deities, were scared of that fragile shack.

And so they should be. The being that called that hut a home was nothing else but a witch, who brewed medicines and poisons and weapons, all of which went against all morality. That witch had broken all of the rules of natures to seek power, and thus was outlawed by the world and ejected into the Moonlight Forest to die.

What they did not expect was for the unnatural creature to craft poisons and weapons from the foliage of the forest, to the point where every creature feared it. Now, the strongest in the galaxy had to brave the dangers of the forest to seek the help of the infamous Moonlight Witch. Cures for incurable poisons, poisons for unkillable enemies, the Moonlight Witch would ask no questions and make them all.

Ji Yanran, the princess of the Galactic Tan Empire, sought medicine for her father's illness. So, she headed for the Moonlight Forest for the Moonlight Witch. She braved countless trials before arriving at the fragile-looking door of the witches hut.

When she entered, she saw something that shocked her. Having only heard rumours of the Moonlight Witch, she only knew what she had heard, which was confused at best. Some rumours described the Witch as a beautiful woman, some as an ugly old hag. Others even went so far as to say it was actually a man, but nobody believed that. What witches in history were male, after all?

Ji Yanran was therefore shocked at the sight of the wizened old man crushing ingredients in his pestle. His body was wrinkled, and his skin was like leather, tough and browned. There was a wart on the right side of his nose, and a gray stubble covered the lower half of his face. His silver hair was loose and long, reaching to the bottom of his spine. Dressed in a long purple tunic with golden characters sown in, he looked perfectly witch-like.

However what were most noticeable were his blue eyes. Sunken and aged as they were, they still sparkled with the vigour of a young man. They practically glowed as he looked up from the small wooden bowl to survey the new arrival with interest.

He spoke then, as the princess was still rooted to the spot. He had a raspy voice, the voice of a man who hasn't spoken in years.

"This is new. What brings a princess to my humble abode? Do you seek poison, to remove a blockade from your path to the galactic throne? Or maybe a bottle to trap the souls of your enemies? Or..." He smirked slightly. "Perhaps, you seek a cure for your father's illness?"

Ji Yanran snapped back to reality when the Moonlight Witch said that. She didn't know what to say, and could only squeak out a small "How...?" before falling silent again.

The Witch snorted disdainfully.

"I have my ways, brat, just tell me why you're here and I'll leave. I may have all day, but I won't waste it on you." The Witch went back to using the mortar and pestle, now adding a strange golden flower and mixing it in with the contents of the other crushed plants.

The princess regained her composure, then spoke clearly. "Yes, I am here to seek medicine for my father, who is dangerously ill. I'll give you everything I have, if only you can save him!"

"Hooh, everything you say?" He smirked again as he place down the mortar and grabbed his bamboo cane. He spoke as he moved closer to the princess, while never moving his eyes from her. "What do you have that I would want? I don't need opulence, it's tacky. Money is worthless here, and I can find any ingredients I need here, in the wilderness or my garden. Nothing you have would interest me."

Ji Yanran gulped slightly, then said in a shaky voice, "What about... a Philosopher's Stone?"

The Witch's reaction was immediate. He stood straighter, and widened his eyes.

"A Philosopher's Stone, is that true?" He was shaking as he stared directly into Ji Yanran's eyes.

She slowly reached into her pocket and pulled out a small red gem, the size of her fingernail. Carefully, Ji Yanran held this small gem between her thumb and finger, completely showing off its opulence. As he moved her finger, the light was refracted in a strange way, becoming a blue colour as it travelled through the gem.

"It's... real... It's the real Philosopher's Stone! And... you just want a cure for your father?" He looked suspiciously at the princess, scrutinising her with those intelligent blue eyes.

"Yes, and... all my future requests too, no matter what they are. They will all be worth together what the Stone is worth for you."

The Moonlight Witch stared for a few moments, before bursting into laughter. It was a maniacal laughter, the sound of thousands of years of torment and anger being released in one fell swoop. When he stopped and looked at the princess again, those sunken eyes held the beginning of respect for the princess.

"Fine, fine. This Stone is priceless after all. Any future requests you make, I shall fulfill with no hassle. Plus, the cure is easy, since I made the poison that's killing him."

"WHAT?" Ji Yanran yelled.

"Don't be so noisy. Yes, I made that poison in return for this treasure." He pointed to the pestle and mortar. "It increases the potency and strength of what I prepare in it, a rather rare find. If I'm not mistaken, it was your first eldest brother who asked for it."

"What? First brother would never do something like this. He's so kind and funny!" Ji Yanran didn't believe the old Witch's words.

"What would I lie to you for? To gain favour? Un-bloody-likely. Your brother, the crown prince, told me himself that he was, to quote exactly, "losing patience at the old leech fused to the throne and draining the empire for so long".

"No way..." Ji Yanran sat down on the floor and put her head in her hands, feeling distraught and lonely all of a sudden.

The Witch looked at the princess indifferently, then turned to the pestle again. He scooped out the mixture from before and stored it in a small jar, before washing the pestle out and placing different ingredients in. A small golden vine; a massive pink petal the size of the princess' hand; and other unidentifiable ingredients. A small pill furnace was placed over a fire, the ingredients were emptied into it unceremoniously, and the lid was placed firmly back.

An hour of silence and mortar grinding later, the Witch suddenly dropped everything and opened the cauldron again, revealing a small white orb. A medicinal pill, crafted in a pill furnace using the best quality ingredients. Small cloudy patterns were covering the pill, showing its high quality.

"Here. Take it and get lost." The Witch made a shooing motion to the girl while he held the Philosopher's Stone in his hand, admiring it.

"Yes, thank you Witch!" Ji Yanran waved before running from the hut. Staring after her, the Moonlight Witch only rubbed his stubble and smiled a little. "What and interesting girl..."

He then went back inside and began to mix ingredients again.

"So what you're saying is, you're a wizard?"

"NO! That's just the curse talking! I can assure you I am not a wizard!"

"Are you, or are you not an old man who lives alone in some drafty monstrosity, casting spells and cackling to yourself while wearing a pointy hat?"

"Well... I mean, yes, but--"

"So you're a wizard."

"NO! I'm an ordinary man who was cursed to take the form of 'a creature that humans would find indistinguishable from a wizard!' "

"Uh huh. And where, exactly, did this curse come from?"

"Well, I was messing around with this creepy old book with skulls on it--"

"Classic wizard move."

"Shut up. Anyway, my familiar accidentally knocked over one of my potions--"

"Those are both wizard things! Look, it says so right here in the DMG, in the description for the 'Craft Magical Item' Feat."

"Nooooo! You don't understand! I'm wizened! Wizened, I tell you!"

"I say! Are you an ordinary human who's been polymorphed into an exact duplicate of Ian McKellen?"

"YES! Finally, someone gets it! And just like that, my curse is broken! But how did you know?"

"Oh, that's easy. I'm a male witch!"

...

"What's your name?"

"Mitch."

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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