Prologue

The moon peaks from the overcast sky and shines with a diverse luminosity. The flame from the
ground soars and tries to lick the moon. Crackling jingle from the embers gave the night an
exquisite melody accompanied by a hissing whisper from a maiden who dance circling the
towering fire.
The wind blows so mild yet it’s tossing the maiden’s hair to the air while dancing around the fire.
Her aura welcomes calamity, it invites catastrophe. Her beauty is incomparable yet no records of
romantic equal. Her face shows the calmness of her totality and her movement illustrate her
gracefulness.
She falls on her knees facing the raging fire, she’s too close but she doesn’t seem to bother, the
tongues of the flame attempts to contact her long, black straight hair but they were helpless. She
faced the moon and mutters a Latin sentence that she alone could understand, just right after her
sentence the blaze rose up like a tower consuming the moon with its great fury. The fire woods
were consumed in an instant by the violent inferno leaving traces of its ferocity on the fading
embers before the maiden, whose body is on the ground; her colors left her skin leaving it pale
and ashen.

The city of Karu is the busiest city in Klasus. Klasus, the country where trade and witchcraft is
swiftly rising. Karu is the country’s capital and where all major traders and merchants invest
most of their time. Thundering noise of rising voices echoed all over town as every passerby
canvass for merchandise of their own liking. The booths along the sidewalk were not so inviting,
colorless sheeting was supported by four thin wood posts and under the canvas were the
merchant’s items, showcased in a chaotic status. Karu is also the town where witches’ lairs
abounded. The witch’s population covers 8 percent of the entire city’s inhabitants. Every witch in
this town is feared yet revered. A certain woman was untouchable for her grand witchcraft and is
believed to be the mother of all the witches all over the country. A society of witches was
founded by Flemeth, the mother of all witches. She welcomes everyone to the society especially
women. She roams around the city streets to mark out every trace of homeless girls asking for
alms and she also takes the maidens who work for the city perverts. She’s giving homage to the
maidens who were homeless and vulnerable.
The witches’ circle that was also rendered as “The Society” was appreciated by the country
dwellers; they serve as the doctors of the poor and the saviour of the weak, but not until the death
of Flemeth. Every witch in the society who taught alongside Flemeth claims the spot of being the
next leader of the society. They wage battle against each other to settle the argument; power
against power.
The intense competition caused the great division of the society. The entire wicked witch
hammered the army of the humble and forced them to leave the society’s fortress. They wander
along the city streets and then decided to settle at the city skirts, hoping to live their life in peace.
The witches in the outskirts devoted their lives helping the poor and defending the vulnerable.
They prayed for Flemeth at a sanctuary built at the heart of their compound and asked for her
return. The witches believe that once a witch dies, she will return from the dead if she could
escape the strings of death and they shall possess greater power once they broke the curse of
death. They hope for Flemeth’s swift return so that they could settle the quarrels and live in
peace together again.
While living with the hope of Flemeth’s return, they continued her legacy of being open handed
to the needy; they scouted the city boulevards to search for homeless women. The society
ventures to the city even knowing that they were considered outcast by the “wicked society”. The
citizens of the city feared the wicked society that they were forced to stay away from the other
society that any conversation to them will cause them the most painful death they could imagine.
But the city dwellers love the society who helped them with their needs. They hide them every
time the wicked circle roams the city streets and they even provide for their supplies.
Bathory, the head of the feared wicked society; out powered every witch who tried to claim the
throne from her. She killed every one of them, leaving them no hope of survival. She’s making
certain that there will be no more future disputes against the same witch. Bathory imposed new
rules over the witches in her reign including death to every crime against her name. She doesn’t
want any competition that she’s making every step to outwit her enemies; even with her striking
magic she still plays dirty tricks to win her battles. A witch claims the power of their opponent
after thrashing them. She discovered that every witch had an essence within which can be
transferred from one to another by defeating foes and casting a spell to unleash the essence from
a witch’s body and then inhaling it to append to her essence. The greater the essence, the greater
the magic. Flemeth enclosed that fact; she knew that by knowing this fact can turn a witch
against another. Bathory discovered this reality by stalking to Flemeth on one of her lone
moment in the holy place of the society’s fortress. Books of spells and chants were piled on
Flemeth’s shelves and no one in the society knew of these shelves. Flemeth uses some spells to
conceal the shelves that no one could see them while inside the room and uncover them with a
spell if she needs to use the books on the shelves. Bathory remembered the spells to cover and
uncover the shelves and used the books for her own interest. Her knowledge of spells that were
on the books was nearly equal to Flemeth’s and the other witches were no match for her.

Chapter 1 Prayer
“Wake up Morrigan!” shouted Senna while shaking Morrigan. “Wake up! Wake up!”
The sleeping maiden sat up but still not to her senses. She rubs her eyes to see clearly who’s
waking her. She smiles the moment she recognized the face of Senna.
“You did it again. Don’t stay outside the fortress without someone with you. You knew what
Bathory hates right?” she wipes Morrigan’s face with her palm. “You look terribly dirty, stand up
and let’s get you a clean dress”
The fortress’ kitchen is wide enough to cater for 20 workers; the wicked society grew too great
that it doubled the number of the former society’s population. Morrigan is a witch brought in by
a kind cook at the wicked society’s fortress when she was 8. She was first seen by the cook along
the street lying on the floor wounded; she was nearly killed by a chap who failed on forcing her
to go with him. The cook, she took care of her as her own child. Just like her, Senna was also an
orphan who took refuge on the cook’s arms. Senna and Morrigan were of the same age. The cook
was also a witch but she devoted her life cooking for the society, she’s the same head cook
during Flemeth’s time. Both Senna and Morrigan helped their mother in the kitchen during their
break time but they never neglect their study of their arts.
“What in the gloomy world happen to you Morrigan?” inquired her mother as her eyes examine
her daughter’s facade.
Morrigan bent her head down to hide her remorseful face. “I’m sorry mom” she apologized. “I
didn’t mean to......”
“I know” Her mother guaranteed her. “go and get yourself a nice clean dress, you still have to
study later and I’m growing old now, Morrigan I can’t work all the time like it was before” she
smirked.
Morrigan’s eyes watered with tears. “Mom, my hands are yours”. She reached for her mother and
hugged her tight.
“I love you too baby”
“I’m a baby no more” she objects
“Now go and fix yourself.” She turned her gaze to Senna who’s almost crying while watching
them. “Don’t you cry there, I love you my babies, you both gave me so much joy.” She inhales to
fight the coming tears. “Go with your sister and help her with her studies, you’re better than her
in spells, help her remember her spells. Now off you go.” She waved them goodbye and starts
working on the menu.

On the other circle of witches, they were preparing a feast for Flemeth. All the witches and
warlocks were welcome to join the feast; invitations were sent to every skirt of Klasus notifying
them about the upcoming event. An invitation was also sent to the wicked society. Jinsha, the
chief of the society in the outskirts of Karu, whose heart is like Flemeth’s; she loves helping the
poor and it’s her heart that placed her to the throne. She’s still hoping that their difference of
opinion with the wicked society would come to an end.

“That fool” a mockery on her voice was very obvious. “Did Jinsha still believe on reconciliation?
I can’t believe that bitch!” Bathory retorted
Her mockery is hitting the patience of the courier. Her crisp laugh resounds all over the hall. Her
seat was elevated 5 feet high off the ground and the throne was adorned with precious gems and
pink pearls. She’s looking at the warlock below her throne with great dislike. She’s not akin to
any man stepping inside the fortress. She even put up a regulation with regards to their contacts
to chaps; relationship to other man is prohibited unless decreed by Bathory.
“Tell her not to anticipate my occurrence in that feast” she beamed. “Don’t worry I will send a
slave on my stead, I don’t want to waste your labours on coming here; risking your life bringing
that silly letter on Jinsha’s behalf. Now bow and depart weakling,” shooed Bathory to the young
lad.
Her laughter’s scorn resonates all over the fortress. Her mockery to the other circle of witches is
loud enough for all the witches inside the stronghold to learn the letter’s what about.
The warlock from Jinsha’s village walks calmly as he steps out from Bathory’s castle. Evading
gazes from every witches along the corridor. An odd feeling from behind held his feet from
walking. Two maiden witches were watching him walk away. Captivating scenery was what he
thought of them.
“who is she?”He thought
He came back to his senses when he saw both of the maidens depart from where they were
standing, a call from within the fortress caught their awareness and then they start scurrying
inside.
He smiled. He wishes to know her name but that will just remain as a wish. He’s got no option
on how to know her name. They are not allowed to enter the castle of Bathory, let alone roam the
city. But he knew that the thought of her will not leave his mind for sure. “Flemeth, I wish you
were here, watch over us I pray” he longed for Flemeth’s rule. He never had met her nor been
conceived when Flemeth was welcomed by death but he heard immense things about her in their
village at the outskirts of Karu.
He heaped a vast amount of air for a deep sigh. “I wish to know you more” he whispered to
himself. “When will I see you again...”

Chapter 2 The Feast of Flemeth

The loud noise of the trumpets echoed all over the village of the society, merriment is obvious to
the faces of the villagers; sweet smiles carved on their lips and peace could be traced in their
eyes, there’s no doubt about their sincere faith to Flemeth. The trumpets and the drums were
played harmoniously with the songs that were sung by the soloist. Witches and warlock all over
the land of Klasus came to rejoice with their brothers and sisters of the art at the feast for
Flemeth. Even the ordinary citizen who valued the late Flemeth came to pay their respect at her
sanctuary. Every circle of which the notes were given came before the formal start of the feast,
but no signs of Bathory’s circle of witches.
“Thank you for heeding to my invitation, I pray that Flemeth would bless your society.” She
smiled to everybody as she stood before them on a floating carpet in front of the haven of
Flemeth located at the heart of the village. She stacked some air in her before speaking. “This is
the first feast for Flemeth, and maybe everyone is wondering what was this feast for...” she
looked at every society heads who sat at the front row of their clusters. “...I hope that we will
remember Flemeth’s legacy... it is to help the poor and defend the weak, I pray that before her
return, Flemeth’s return, every disputes in the society would all cease... for her sake.” Tears were
forming some beads of fluid in her eyes, blurring her vision. Her speech was being distorted by
her shaky voice. She tried to speak more casual yet persuasive to show that they are strong
regardless of Flemeth’s absence. “I apologize for being so emotional, I just can’t stand the truth
that many of us took another path.” She inhaled to fight the tears that were skirmishing to come
out from her cheerless eyes.
Loud murmurs trailed its way to where Jinsha stood. The cheery atmosphere was changed into a
different one, an atmosphere of warning, ambience of fear! Jinsha stood tall as she look at the
new arriving visitors which she sent a letter but she doesn’t expect to attend – Bathory.
Every eye was fixed on Bathory as she march with a large procession of witches behind her
toward Jinsha. Every one held their breathing as the striding society walks with their head high;
it is so silent that only footstep and crunching embers were the only noise that could be heard.
Thudding hearts could be perceived at everyone’s chest; they knew that the arrival of Bathory
means a catastrophic evening.
“Don’t y’all be so nervous, you’re making me feel that I’m the strongest, well the fact is.. I am
the strongest” She chuckled at her idea. “Thanks for sending me an invitation Jinsha.” she
smirked as she examine Jinsha. “You’ve gotten old my dear friend” she muttered some inaudible
sound and in an instant she’s floating face to face with Jinsha. No one dared to move a muscle,
all they could do is watch and tremble as they feel Bathory’s spirit suffocate them with her evil
aura.

A deep and heavy breathing from a maiden weighs her down as she sprint in the middle of the
woods with a torch on her right arm. The twigs on the ground scream as they snap by the
maiden’s bare foot. She ran so swift as if she’s gliding. The flame on her torch trails some
tongues in the air as she promptly sped through the woods, raising it just right to prevent the
flame from licking the branches and the leaves. She’s breathing so heavy and she’s gasping for
air as she crouches down to rest for a bit. The rhythm of the drums being played gave the night a
jovial spirit and while the trumpets gave the night a spirit of solitude; good pair of instrument yet
not good for this kind of night. She braced herself then walks slowly towards the feasting village,
she walks with graceful movements as her garment dances with her figure; a silhouette of beauty.
The maiden took a not so busy street to watch the high spirits of the visitors and the villagers.
She saw no familiar faces and it made her curve her lips into a joyful exploit. A funny feeling
embraced her totality when she saw a stranger looking directly at her, the stranger is even
smiling at her. “This is a cheerful night you dummy, everyone should be smiling” she thought.
The maiden pinched herself for having that strange feeling. “Just have fun Morrigan, don’t think
of anything else” she advised herself. She froze the moment she realized who the smiling
stranger was. She managed to look at the guy who’s with a flashy grin. “Yes it’s him!”
Morrigan couldn’t think of anything to do when she saw that Jinsha’s warlock is walking
towards her, she can’t move her body as if frozen by the cold wind of the icy night. She turned
her gaze onto the ground the moment Jinsha’s warlock stood before her. She’s not prepared for
any encounter with a warlock; Bathory prohibits them to mingle with warlocks or any male
citizen. Morrigan and the other witch under the rule of Bathory were killed just by talking to a
male citizen without any formal matters discussed. She hated Bathory now more than ever
because of the fear inculcated to their hearts and also to the incompetence of conversing to a
male. She raised her head and saw the amused warlock looking at her introvert expression.
“Hello young lady, I saw you at the bitch’s castle right?”
“You should not speak ill of her highness or death will swallow you whole.” she warned him
with concern
“It is strange..” he looks more amused. “You’re spirit is not like the bitch’s, I mean Bathory,
you’re kind!”
“This is who I am, my sister and my mom too”
“Sister? The beautiful maiden with you that day?” he asked
“Yes” she guaranteed him
“Aleks, my name is Aleks,”
“I’m Mor........”
“Morrigan, right? I heard the voice and she’s calling for someone named Morrigan and you
turned your head first than the other young maiden.” explained Aleks
“Impressive,” she smiled of amusement. “My sister’s name is Senna but we’re......” for the
second time she didn’t finish her line because of Aleks interruption.
“But you’re not really sisters. I know that too. Everybody knows that,” he informed her.
“Jinsha welcomes warlocks in her circle but why did Bathory despise men? I couldn’t understand
that, she killed everyone who comes together with men . . .” she looked down to hide her dread.
“Even killing her own sister because of that stupid made-up law.”
“Don’t you know?”
“Know what?’’ Morrigan inquired
“About the prophecy of her death, no one told you about it? I get it, why would she tell her circle
about that, only a few members of her society knows about it”
“I didn’t know that, maybe I will try to ask my mother”
“anyway, you’re here unannounced right?” enquired Aleks. Morrigan just motion a nod.
“Well then, come and I will show you everything, I will walk you to the entire village without
Bathory noticing you.” He smiled
He grabbed her hand and slid past the other citizens who feast, Morrigan with a little confusion
found no objection of Aleks ‘suggestion. Morrigan took pleasure on her tour with Aleks but her
question about the prophecy is still hovering all over her mind and she’s decided to ask her
mother once she got home. She desires to know the truth about why did Bathory despise the
other gender, about why is it so bad to mingle with them, are they something like poisons that
could kill you? Morrigan hustled her way through the woods, she must hurry and reach the
fortress first before Bathory and everybody could get there.

Chapter 3 Mistah and The Hidden Prophecy

The morning dew drops from a wild berry leaf potted over the window of the kitchen of
Bathory’s temple. Mistah, Morrigan and Senna’s mother uses the berry’s fruit to cure wounds
and she uses it as flavouring to her menus. Mistah was raised by Flemeth herself, she was one of
the forerunners of the fortress along with Flemeth but she never dreamed of becoming a society
head and just let Bathory to take over even though Mistah is more powerful than her before she
took essences from other witches. Flemeth took her in her home when she was still a toddler;
Flemeth told her that a young lady asked her to take care of her which Flemeth accepted. Mistah
was Flemeth’s inspiration on organizing the society. Flemeth’s adopted daughter got no interest
on magic from the first time Flemeth taught her how to use one. Flemeth never gave up on her
and she succeeds to teach her some of the ancient magic which she didn’t write in all her spell
books. Only Mistah is the only living witch who mastered this ancient magic which she never
intends to use but she tried to teach them to her two adopted daughters just like what Flemeth
did. On the beginning of the society, there were only few citizens who like to join the circle that’s
why Flemeth decided to roam the city streets to look for some homeless women.
Flemeth and Mistah found Bathory along the street of Karu, she’s fighting against 5 boys. Her
face is full of hate, a hopeful wish to kill the boys. The kind witch pacified the quarrel and took
Bathory with them. Mistah knew all along that Bathory will be a pain in the ass.
“Pleasant first light mother” greeted Senna as she makes her way towards the wash room of the
kitchen. “Where’s your sister, Senna? Gone missing again?” asked her mother.
“Present!” Morrigan appeared behind the doorway entrance. Smiling with her cheek blushing. “I
slept at my own room yesterday mother.” She lied
“I went to your room looking for you yesterday but you’re not in it” informed her mother.
“Ah.....” she paused. “I went to Senna’s room and we chat for a bit” she lied again. Senna came
out from the washroom and stared at Morrigan with a questioning look. Morrigan looked back at
her with a distorted smile.
“Do you have something to tell me girls?” asked their amused mother.
Morrigan ran near her sister and bit Senna’s shoulder. Senna flinches forward and ran towards
her mother. “Mother, Morrigan went not . . .” she looked at her sister then to her laughing
mother. “Morrigan went not only to my room to chat but to play some tarot reading.” She fibs.
“That’s good then” regard Mistah. “You should master your spells the both of you, you’ll never
know what will happen next to this society of Bathory.”
Morrigan ran and cuddled her sister for saving her from the doom of lie. Senna pulled Morrigan
away from their mother. “Mom we’ll be back later we will just have some quality time with one
another.” They both waved goodbye to Mistah and then head towards the kitchen’s exit.
“We were almost caught Morrigan, next time I will not tell mother false things just to save you
from your unknown ventures.” Senna warned Morrigan, she heaped a stack of air and heap out a
deep sigh.
Morrigan smiled at her. “Thank you my dear sister” Senna smiled back and reached her sister for
a hug.
“You went to the feast at the outskirt?” inquired Senna with a furious face.
Her sister just gave her a nod, afraid that someone might hear her answer. Senna on the other
hand can’t let her voice down. She couldn’t believe what her sister did. Morrigan searched the
place for possible listeners but found nobody. Senna knew the grave punishment of what her
sister had done and she couldn’t grope for words, but she tried to get a hold of herself to lessen
the suspicion.
“You know you’ll die if someone would know that you went to the feast. . .” she paused to search
the place. “Why in this crazy world did you go to that place?” she raised. “You knew in the first
place that Bathory condemns that village.” She stressed.
“I don’t know too, it’s just that my inner self wanted to see what’s happening to the other society
of witches.” She told her sister with a frown. “I just want to see how they live, how warlock and
witch live together, that’s all.”
Before Senna could speak, sound of twigs snapping shut her mouth and made them both tremble
with fear. The two maidens fear that someone had overheard their conversation from a hidden
situate from where they sit that they didn’t see the listener’s where about.
All of the trembling and apprehension rested on them and sighs of relief befall them when they
saw that the source of the snapping twigs was their mother’s fault. Their trembling body were
still shaky but at least a bit compose and steady. They saw their mother’s tired face saddened.
Worry was all over her spirit, an expression that they never saw from her since she took them
from the street. Mistah’s eyes were now shedding tears as she approach both of her adopted
daughters.
“I knew this day would come, but does it has to be this soon?” she told her daughters. Mistah
was now sobbing, she hoisted her head to the heavens “why mother, why does it have to be this
soon?” she prayed, hoping Flemeth would whisper her answer to her ears.
Morrigan managed to utter some words but they sound like pure mumbles. “Mother?” asked the
probing face of Senna. “What do you mean by that?”
“Is that the prophecy mother?” inquired Morrigan.
Their mother’s face turned pale, her gaze was searching the place for any human existence
besides theirs. Her body is now shaking uncontrollably and beads of sweat were all over her face.
She stopped searching the place for any flesh-living creature after being confident that no one
can over hear them. Mistah started waving her hands gracefully along the thin breeze of the
morning wind. Both of her daughters knew what she was about to do; she’s sealing the place to
contain their voices inside their location so that no one could hear their conversation matters.
They saw her do that all the time every time she’s teaching them some ancient sorcery.
Mistah told her daughters about the prophecy of Bathory’s death and the story crushed their
hearts. Cries of anguish and distress filled the sealed area. The family cuddled together, all were
sobbing, letting the time pass them as they were. The prophecy left them with no choice but to
accept one’s death. The death that could never be avoided by any witchcraft.
Mistah warned them not to talk about this anymore and she just advised them to master every of
their spells that they might need those. She also told them to act casually to evade suspicion from
the society. A lot of witches in Bathory’s circle were too faithful to her to the extent that their
essence could even be at stake.

Chapter 4 Aleks
Smokes were ascending from the gray ashen ground to the orange-hued morning sky. The gleeful
event of the feast yesterday was really terrific, the very first feast for Flemeth since the day
they’ve been considered outcasts.
Rays of light from the sun sets to penetrate the dim and dusty room of one of Jinsha’s warlocks.
Sheets of linen were put up to cover the windows, put up to block the rays of light from entering
the room. The only warlock who loves dim shaded room, every witch and warlock in Jinsha’s
village love the light especially the sun. The only illumination was from the fading glow of the
few embers crackling in the hearth, most of the fire woods were eaten by the blazing fire. The
young warlock on the bed embraced his body to warm himself, the cold morning air is colder
than the usual, and winter is approaching fast. His furry thick blanket was no match to the cold
breeze and it’s having him feel the chill up to his bones that he felt some mild pains in his joints.
He’s near to sneezing and he felt some cold fluid running out from his nose. “This is not good”
he thought. He stood up with his blanket still wrapped around his body and walk towards the
hearth where the vanishing smoulder and warmth of the ember was. He reaches for some woods
beside the fireplace and starts to kindle a fire for warmth.
The dancing flame on his hearth reminded him of a stranger whom he officially met yesterday at
the feast of Flemeth – Morrigan. Her essence was like the dancing fire; graceful yet powerful.
Her presence made Aleks forget who he was and just spend the rest of the night with her like a
normal citizen. He never expected that his prayer to see her again would come true, he even met
her face to face and then spend some couple of hours together at the feast. He can’t understand
why does time passed so fast when she’s with him to the fact that he used one of his spells to
make the time sluggish.
The young lad watches the dancing flame as he incorporate Morrigan to it. He longs for her
presence but he doesn’t want to risk her life. He knew that Bathory imposed some rules with
regards to her witches mingling with male witches or even to ordinary Karu male citizen and
considering the truth that he belongs to Jinsha, the rival of Bathory.
“This is not fair, someone must stand up and do something . . .or someone should fulfil the
prophecy the soonest time possible!” he thought
A knock from his door brought his senses back. He put more woods to the swelling flame to raise
the temperature inside the room. He stood up and threw his blanket to his bed and walks slowly
towards the door to check who’s knocking.
“Jinsha is requesting for your presence” a voice called from the opposite side of the door. “She
said it’s urgent” the voice came again.
He wonders why he was being summoned because he was never called this early. “I’ll be with
her in a moment” he assured the messenger. After some moments of odd silence facing the door
and waiting for the messenger to reply, footsteps was all he could hear from inside.

“You want my company my lady?”

“Yes, Aleks, I have some questions to you about your new friend who I saw you with at the feast
yesterday.” Jinsha’s face remains unreadable, always casual.
“Morrigan, her name’s Morrigan my lady, she’s from the wicked society But she’s not like the
others, she’s very kind and cheerful and her essence tells me that she’s got no blemish at all, not
a bit.” He tries to defend Morrigan from Jinsha.
“I know, Aleks, I could see it from her eyes, her sincere eyes. . .” she paused to sigh. “. . . Like
Flemeth’s eyes”
Aleks could discern the sadness in Jinsha’s voice, the hum of reminiscing. Her longing for
Flemeth’s presence is very apparent; she can’t conceal the pain in her voice, let alone on her face.
The death of Flemeth crushed Jinsha’s heart to pieces. She’s still clinging to the hope that
Flemeth will one day come back to life and heal the strife of the society.
“Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you, Aleks?” enquired Jinsha.
Aleks’ face is covered with great puzzlement, he couldn’t fathom his leader’s thought. His eyes
met Jinsha’s and her thoughts invaded his mind.
“I’m sorry for that Aleks. . .” she stares down at Aleks whose body lies face down on the floor
motionless. “. . . I can’t find words to tell you and this is the only way I could tell you my
thought. That’s why I invaded your mind.” Jinsha issued her speech to Aleks even knowing that
he passed out because he lost all his strength with that spell.

“My head. . .” Aleks gripped his head with both hands trying to cast a spell to remove or at least
lessen the pain. A dreadful memory hit his nerve. He starts to shudder by the thought of someone
dead. “My Lady?” he whispered. “I remember everything now, Jinsha showed me the actual
event of the prophecy . . . but my strength isn’t that too grand to see the entire scenario
clearly. . .” he shook his head to throw away the confusions, “. . . the images isn’t that clear but I
saw Morrigan and the blade of Death. .” tears began to flow from his eyes, he tried to fight them
from gushing down but he just can’t stop them from pouring and he can’t figure out why.
“...Why does it have to be Morrigan? Flemeth do something please! I beg you!” Aleks sobs as he
prayed to Flemeth. He never left his chamber; he just spent the rest of the day in his room
praying for Morrigan’s escape from the blade of Death. He prayed that Flemeth would bless him
with supremacy so he could defy the blade to pierce Morrigan’s flesh.

Chapter 5 Moment of Distress

Trembling hands kept her from her work and all her maid servants were affected by her broken
state. No one was aware of what was over her family, over her daughters. Her menus were
actually done by her maid servants because she can’t put her mind into cooking and her body is
denying her to move properly. All her maid servants observed her magical hands were trembling
and out of magic in making every menu an exquisite mouth watering dish. Her touches were
supposedly great ingredients to make her menus astonishing but her shape keeps her
enchantment away, sealed to one of her peach bottles.
“Are you alright my lady?” asked a maid servant when she saw Mistah drop a bowl of garlic.
Mistah was still looking at the fallen garlic bits on the ground but her eyes is telling a different
story; blankness, her eyes was staring at the garlic morsels but it is very evident that her thought
was into something more unlikely.
“I will walk you to your room, my lady” the maid servant’s voice showed sincere concern. Even
her eyes were both in tears. “Come my lady. . .” she pursued. “We’ll work for your menu today,
we’ll work together to make it as good as your cooking.” The maid servant smiled to assure her
superior. “My lady?” Mistah responded not but she stood up and let the maid servant sustain her
shaky body. She’s too sorry for the maid servant for she is carrying her full weight with her
skinny little body.
“I apologize for letting you carry me” Mistah apologized to her bearer. She could hardly look at
her maid servant’s eyes and her voice sounded broken.
The maid servant just smiled at her with an honest look. “Don’t mention it, my lady.” She paused
walking and stared at the high rock ceiling. “I love to work for Flemeth’s daughter. . .” her voice
showed great loyalty to Mistah. “. . .The rightful succ. . .”
Mistah covered her maid servant’s lips hastily. “Be careful little lady, someone might hear you.”
She temporary halts to look at both end of the hallway. “You knew the price every witch pay
under Bathory’s domain who tried to speak ill against her.” Her voice was trailing soft. All her
strength was running out of her body and it seems that her essence was diminishing away.
The skinny bearer felt the losing grip of her superior and alarm raced to her senses. She started
shaking the nearly lifeless body of her superior, making sure she’s still holding on. “My lady!
My lady!” she called to her, so loud that her scream shadows the pathway with distressful news.
Moments later after her terrifying cry, footsteps were approaching with terrified tone of voice.
“What happened?” asked the lady who nearly reach their spot. “My lady!” shouted the other
maid servant who saw her superior on the ground, motionless.
“Sha-im what happened to the superior?” asked an old maid servant, nearly reaching her retiring
age.
“I don’t know either,” her shuddering tone makes her account indistinct. “She just. . . She just”
her eyes were looking at the unconscious cook with snivelling eyes. “. . . I don’t know, my lady
just fainted.” She sobs. She couldn’t get a hold of herself and tears fell freely from her swelling
eyes.
“Call her daughters. . .” decreed the old lady. “. . . But first let’s carry the superior to her
chamber.” The other maid servant starts to kneel down and pick the unmoving body of Mistah.
“Sha-im, go and get some berries over the kitchen’s window.” She requested “and Milsy go with
her, fetch warm water and a clean cloth”
Silence ate the gloomy room where Mistah rest, the maid servants gathered around her bed as
they pray for Flemeth’s healing mercy.
“Flemeth, you know better, help us . . .” Sha-im wept. “. . . don’t let her depart this life . . . she’s
your daughter, remember that!”