The Devil's Cursed Witch

In the city of the Wood Elves, Ronan.

Inside the largest tree residence in the central part of the city, the High Elder of the Wood Elf Clan was in the middle of making an elixir. The elderly elf was sitting on the floor, her wrinkled face in deep concentration, a weak glow surrounding her body as she prepared to use her spiritual power to purify the essence of the ingredients she prepared.

In front of her, clay pots containing various precious herbs were placed with visible care, some freshly plucked leaves, while others included barks and roots grounded to fine powder. Contrary to how witches make their potions by placing heavy emphasis on the combination of rare ingredients, elves place more emphasis on the herbs itself, on bringing out the essence of the plants using their earth-attribute power, and turning them into elixirs.

As Leeora finished her meditation, she began the process of refining herbs. A portion of the prepared herbs from the pots flew up in the air and they arranged themselves to float in the air in the form of a perfect circle in front of the elf. With her eyes closed, her hands moved in front of her chest, her palms moving in a circular fashion facing each other.

The herbs in front of her mimicked the movement of her hands, and wrapped by the elf's magic, each of their essences took the form of a pure white energy that sparkled in the air, and under the guidance of her hands, that refined essence moved towards one of the empty bottles sitting on the side.

Once that white energy entered the small bottle, its lid closed on its own.

Leeora didn't open her eyes and prepared to make another elixir. Once again, she repeated the same procedure as another portion of the herbs from the pot flew into the air. Just as she began wrapping them with her magic, her concentration fluctuated. Leeora's brows knitted as something flashed in front of her eyes.

A basket overflowing with freshly-plucked herbs…

The sky turning dark…

Heavy clouds, flashes of lightning…

lDripping blood, a glint of a weapon's blade—

A person being stabbed.

With a loud gasp, Leeora opened her eyes. She did not even pay attention to the ruined sludge in front of her, or the broken pots and withered herbs that received the brunt of her magic's outburst.

The elf was still in shock, finding it difficult to breathe, her chest heaving up and down laboriously.

'A premonition?'

She placed her hand on her loudly beating heart, and even though she was trying to calm herself, the sense of impending doom continued to suffocate her.

'Something bad is going to happen. Something really bad.'

As she thought about it more, her intuition was telling her this was not something she should overlook.

The utterly shocked old elf shivered at what it might imply, but given her wisdom due to her old age, she was able to calm herself.

"I…I need to pay a visit to the one who can clear my doubts," the High Elder mumbled as she stood up from her place.

That very same day, Leeora sent word to Cornelia that she had an urgent concern that needed her help, and shortly after, the elf arrived at the city of the witches.

She was warmly welcomed at the residence of the Head of the Witches' residence where Cornelia personally came to meet her at first notice of her arrival.

"High Elder Leeora, welcome to my humble home," the red-haired witch greeted her, but she dropped the long-winded formalities upon seeing the elf's anxious state. "You do not look well, Elder. Please come inside quickly. Talia, serve our guest with sweet tea."

Leeora tried to regain her composure as Cornelia led her to the drawing room.

"Pardon my sudden visit, Lady Cornelia. I hope I did not disturb you from any important affairs."

"It's fine, Elder," the witch said. "May I ask what brought you here?"

Leeora inhaled deeply and replied, "I had an ominous premonition, and I am hoping you can give me some advice."

"A premonition? Can you tell me more about this, Elder?"

The elf gave a complete recount of what she had experienced, and the witch silently listened till the end. Seeing the dazed expression on the witch's face, Leeora could not help but ask, "What do you think, Lady Cornelia? I tried to continue making elixirs afterwards, but I could not gather my concentration no matter what I did. My spirit had been greatly disturbed by what I saw. I fear what I saw meant someone's death, that's why I hurried to come here…"

Cornelia let out an audible sigh. "So I am not the only one."

Leeora was quick to pick up clues. "Are you saying you as well had the same premonition?" She had a realization. "Oh, of course, if it's something that can cause great disaster, it will be you witches who will be first to get a vision or prophecy."

Cornelia nodded, sharing what she saw in her dream. Though retelling what she experienced made her upset, she was the Head of the coven, and thus chose to focus on the more important matters. "...because it is inevitable, I am trying to look into more things that can be avoided. I must thank you for coming, Elder. With your help, we found more clues."

Leeora sighed. "You say it so easily, Lady Cornelia. Every life is precious, and the fact that a person you cherish will die, should we not attempt to change the future?"

"We cannot change it, Elder, and you are aware of it," Cornelia said. "I suggest that you let the people you trust know so they can also prepare for the day of mourning…"

In front of the calm and composed Cornelia, Leeora found herself feeling disappointed. "We both received the same vision of the future, Lady Cornelia. That means the one who is going to die is someone important to the two of us, a person we both cannot bear to lose. Aren't you even a bit worried about who we are going to lose this time?" At this, her eyes had become moist.

Though Cornelia pretended to be unaffected by those words, she could not help but feel her heart waver. She stayed quiet for a while.

Silvia, who was standing at the side to attend to their needs, looked at her master with a worried gaze. The young witch remembered how devastated she was the previous night and the old seniors had to scold her to get hold of herself. Though she outwardly appeared to be keeping the dignity as the Head of the Witches, Silvia knew her master was not as heartless as she portrayed herself.

"I will try to find out more about it," was all Cornelia could say.

After talking for a while, the High Elder of the Wood Elves left, and the composure Cornelia was maintaining till now collapsed as soon as she was alone.

Her eyes once again turned teary at the thought of losing someone dear to her. As a person whose childhood encompassed the greater part of the war, she could still vividly remember the deaths of her loved ones as if they only happened yesterday.

The dream, the vision she had the previous night,  had a large impact on her emotions, triggering the fears she thought she had lost as a child.