The witch was at work.
Work she loved. Work she was born to do. The witch was at work with a meal, you see. A very special meal that needed a very special chef. With this special chef came a certain amount of...special ingredients. Special how, you ask? Well, she is indeed a witch, and what is a witch without her magic?
That was one of the reasons she was hired. Her magic. Not only does it enhance the foods’ deliciousness, but it changes oneself. Change oneself how, you may ask, the curious thing that you are? Well, she is indeed a witch and she’s a witch with many things to change people in many ways. What kinds of things? Questions may be revealed in light soon, inquisitive one.
The witch stirred, simmered, boiled, and baked. She minced, cut, chopped, and sliced. It was an art, cooking. The witch ever the artist. Once all was made and prepared upon dishes of shiny silver, she added her last ingredient. The special ingredient. The witch snapped her fingers and a velvet pouch appeared. She grabbed the pouch from midair, sticking two fingers in and pinching the clear dark salt between them. Alas, she sprinkled the salt upon her magical works of a meal and smiled, satisfied. The kind Baron should be too, for it would prove its purpose.
You see, it wasn’t just any salt, but the salt from internal tears. Magic salt. Special salt. This salt would change oneself appearance to that in which one believes themselves to be.
The witch called for the servants because it was almost time for the guests to arrive and she would like for the table to be already set. When they were taking too long for the witch’s liking she merely snapped her fingers and they appeared before her, frightened and confused and looking a bit mortified by the witch. She wasn’t ugly like all the stories say about witches. She was elegantly beautiful. Too beautiful. But also old. So, oddly beautiful for an old person. Round, rosy cheeks, a bright grandmother smile, extravagant purple eyes, fluffy, pure white hair. She looked too perfectly human. So when the servants were summoned, they were mortified at having forgotten she was a witch. A monster in their eyes, despite her benevolent deeds. This was why she didn’t like to use her magic on humans; they were too quick to cower in the face of disparity.
The witch shrugged and nodded toward the kitchen table full of extravagant delicacies. The servants recovered from their shock and did what was asked of them. At least you can count on them to do what needs to be done. The witch gave them reassuring smiles as they stepped out, arms full. Oh, what a treat the Baron’s guests would receive. A gift they won’t understand until it changes them. For the better, of course.
***
The Baron watched the servants bring out the meal, his eyes transfixed by the smell of it all. It was a meal worthy of the King! The Baron was very much pleased and just hoped the witch understood what he meant when he told her what he wanted to be done to the food.
He waited in the dining room, basking in all the aromas that wafted into the air he breathed. He was waiting for the ring of his doorbell, which could happen at any minute now…
Ding!
The Baron put on a real smile and headed to the door. When he opened it his guest looked up at him and nodded in greeting. Tubbo was a turtle. He wore an indigo blue vest with a matching indigo blue hat. Ironic, isn’t it? How does a turtle, the slowest animal that comes to mind, arrive first? Tubbo was always on time, despite his aching bones and heavy stature due to his thick shell. The turtle’s eyes widened at the smells entering his nose. He closed his eyes in pleasure and then took his seat at one of the table’s many chairs.
Baron wanted to say more, to catch up on his friend, but the doorbell rang again. There, he found Rabi and Loui. Rabi was a rabbit and Loui, a lobster. The Baron opened the frame wider with an outstretched arm gesturing to them to come inside away from the cold. They were drawn to the smell as well, as would anyone be if they could inhale the deliciousness of it.
As soon as he shut the door, it rang again. The Baron cursed, but out of humor of himself. Outside, the Joker stood, tall and lean. But, he was also upside down. His hands became his legs as he moved them forward and into the house. The Joker seemed to like the position of a handstand. His name was Jaak and his hat jingled as he flipped upright.
“Why hello, Baron! What a lovely night it is. Almost as lovely as that smell!” Jaak took out a whistle and blew, but no sound came out. It was like a dog whistle except it called to his companion, a raven named Blue.
Poof! The raven was there in a second, landing on the Joker’s shoulder.
“Hello, Jaak. Hello, Blue. I’m so glad you could make it!” The Baron beamed and led them to the dining room.
The doorbell rang once again. The Baron was young and jubilant and kind. He had deep blonde hair and startling blue eyes. He was handsome, yes, but he also did not have much endurance and had to wipe a bead of sweat off his forehead before running back to the door to retrieve more guests.
***
Soon, he had a table full of food and guests. It put another smile on his already happy face.
There was Jaak and Blue performing tricks that Rabi, Loui, Loretta the hedgehog, and Clunie the bee were watching in amazement. There was Tubbo and George the hare indulging in a deep conversation over the provided tea. There was the dressmaker Maria, talking to Bloom the skunk and Marsha the crane. And lastly, there was the hatter Juliette talking to her sister and local florist Collete along with Florence the goat and Wicker the weasel. In total that would be fifteen people.
The Baron took his seat at the end of the table and rose a glass of tea.
“Friends, Friends!” he exclaimed and the talk quieted. “Thank you all for coming,” the Baron continued. “I understand the smell must be torture. Go ahead, tonight we feast!” There was applause as everyone was eager to dig in.
But, as soon as their lips touched the food, something happened. Magic happened. Everyone, except the Baron, had turned into monsters. The Baron grinned, glad the witch had succeeded in her task. You see, everyone he had invited had one thing in common. The witch had told him so. They loathed, not others, but themselves. The food only transformed them into how they themselves see them.
They had become grotesque things. Slimy and lumpy and smelly and ugly. They looked like trolls, like something out of a horror play. They had become what they saw themselves to be. It was sad, but the baron hoped he could help. Or, rather, help them help themselves.
The creatures began to panic. They looked at one another and flinched, mortified by what they were seeing. When they saw they were all receiving similar looks, they glanced down in unison and screamed at their changed forms. Then, they all turned to him, steam emitting from their ears. Despite the wrongness of it, the Baron couldn’t help but chuckle, though he was quick to apologize.
“What have you done to us?” said a raspy voice. The Baron couldn’t decipher who because he forgot who sat where.
“I haven’t done anything that you haven’t done yourself,” was the Baron's reply. “This food is quite tasty isn’t it?” The Baron didn’t hate himself or see himself in a bad light. At least, not anymore. That’s why the salt hadn’t affected him.
Their dark eyes bulged.
“Why haven’t you changed?” another voice, this one cracking, asked. They sounded a bit angry.
“Because,” The Baron wiped his mouth with his napkin, “I don’t see myself as a putrid thing.” The table was silent once more except for the sound of horrendous breathing. It was still a shock to the Baron, monstrous faces surrounding him. It also caused him great sadness to know his friends didn’t seem to like themselves very much if not at all. His face turned solemn as he debated what to say next.
“My friends, why do you see yourself in this way? I certainly don’t. I see you as works of art, of beauty, of magnificence. There are things I value about each of you that you should be proud of. So I ask again. My friends, why do you see yourself in this way?” The baron paused, awaiting an answer. All he got were a few heads looking down. Until-
“Tell us,” one of them said. The Baron thinks it could have been Jaak, but he wasn’t sure. “Tell me. What do I have that makes me as good as you? As good as the dressmaker, as good as anyone?” the monster he believed could be the dressmaker flinched. “I am nothing, Baron. I loathe myself because I feel guilty loving myself. I loathe myself because I believe that this person, that I, can’t possibly deserve anything. I loathe myself because I have all that I’ve ever wanted while there are others who are more worthy who are doomed to a fate of never getting anything.” The monster, or maybe Jakk, finished. The Baron sighed.
“I think you are afraid of love, my dear friend. Love you wish to have but won’t grant yourself. Love you deserve. Love is something everyone deserves.” The Baron’s face was even, stern.
“Now, I’m going to call your name and you’re going to stand up. I’m going to tell you why you are of value, why you are as good as everyone else, never anything less.” The Baron looked around the table and stood up from his own chair. “No one is leaving until you all change back to your true form. Only then can I be ensured that you see yourselves just as I see you.” He cleared his throat.
“Tubbo,” a monster with a mossy shell, stood.
“Tubbo, you are a marvelous wonder. Always on time, even sometimes early! You’re always one step ahead and this is what can be considered a real boss. You own, not just work, but OWN a clock shop. Good for you. You greet everyone as soon as they enter the door, always making yourself present when need be and when asked of you. You will never disappoint as your clocks are stunning. Everyone on Catza has one!” The Baron watched as the monster became the turtle once again, a smile on his usually serious face.
“Rabi and Louie,” two figures moved forward.
“You two are such delights. Recommending places to eat, shop, and stop on the island of Catza. You are the ones who draw the tourists in, who help our local businesses thrive. You are the reason so many people wish to stay. Your grand hospitality appeals to them first and lets them get a sense of our island’s cluster of terrific people. You help to add those amounts of terrific people.” The rabbit and lobster became themselves again, each with tears in their eyes.
The Baron continued on telling each of his friends how great they really were if they just let themselves see that greatness.
He told Juliette the hatter how her hats were the greatest the world had ever seen and that without them, Catza’s people would be dull and boring. He told Collette the florist how her flowers were the prettiest his eyes had ever seen and how they have brought joy into the eyes of those who were lucky enough to receive them. He told Loretta and Clunie how much he enjoyed their company and that their bright smiles and lovely laughs were enough to fill a room with the same emotion. He told Florence and Wicker how they could make a person's day brighter by their humor and pleasant demeanor. He told Bloom and Marsha how gracefully they dance and it's a pleasure to watch them move in the fluid motions one could only ever think of a flame capable of. He told Blue that he was the best companion anyone would ever have the luck of having, that he was loyal and trustworthy and a great dear friend. He watched them all turn back to who they really were, who they ought to see themselves to be. Now, he only had two left.
“The Joker and the dressmaker, Jaak and Maria, my dearest friends. You believe you are undeserving of each other but let me tell you why you are not. Maria, you are as beautiful as the dresses you make and your dresses are the most elaborately gorgeous things I've ever seen. Worthy of even the queen herself” One of the monsters blushed, the other looked down.
“And Jaak. You are the most lively person I’ve ever had the joy of meeting. You create awe and bewilderment in the minds of everyone you pass. You are a magic trick in itself! Children shout with glee as you give them a reason to believe that the impossible can be made possible.” The baron breathed in. “I know you have loved each other for a long time. Wistful stares and bashful smiles and still, neither of you feel worthy of the other.” They looked at each other, their love causing the monsters to look...less grotesque. “Give in. You deserve this and I think you two were made for each other.” Slowly, they shrank. Slowly they became themselves and held each other's hands.
The Baron sighed in relief. This is how it should be. He looked up and in the corner of the room, he saw the witch. She smiled, waved. He returned the gesture with a nod of gratitude. And she disappeared. The Baron raised his cup. “I think you all can enjoy your food without...you know what...So, without further adieu...Shall we have this meal together and enjoy this night of triumph a little longer?” The baron was met with gleeful faces and hungry expressions as they all had learned to love themselves as they should.
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