The Devil's Cursed Witch



After Zelda finished speaking, she could only let out a quiet sigh before leaving Draven's presence. The sight of the King's empty gaze was too much for the witch to bear. 

Draven remained at the outskirts of Redcrest for a long time. 

The passing breeze tousled his black hair, yet he stood like a stone statue forsaken by time. The random bouts of wind and the swaying grass were the only movements within that ridge. 

As the clouds soon partially covered the sun, another strong gust of wind blew over, and only then did the sorrowful figure of the King of Agartha disappear, returning to his palace to be by his mate's side.

Morpheus would be cremated and buried tomorrow. Seeing her unconscious, Draven felt another pang of guilt in his heart. Ember had to wake up soon, or else she would lose her chance to see her friend for the last time. However, Draven also worried about her reaction once she heard of Morpheus' death.

He sat at the edge of her bed while holding her hand. 

"Wake up, Ember," he murmured, his voice hoarse in grief. "You need to see your friend for the last time, or you will regret it. If you can hear me, you have to wake up."

The sky outside changed colors, the blue turning to hues of yellow, orange and red being the only indication of time passing within the silent chamber. 

Just as the sun disappeared from the horizon, there was finally  movement on Ember's side. 

Draven felt his chest tighten. "Ember?"

The young woman's body was trembling, her brows furrowed but her eyes were tightly shut. Her limbs were restlessly flailing, as if she was trying to grab something unseen in the air.

"Ember—"

She opened her eyes in terror. "Morph!"

Her breathing was ragged, and she sat up, head turning around searching for the last person she saw in her memories. She was no longer in the garden, but inside her bedchamber. Only then did her gaze land on her mate.

"D-Draven? You've come? Morph, he—"

"Ember, calm down—"

Ember attempted to leave bed, clutching onto Draven's arms. "M-Morph?" Tears rolled down from her eyes. "Morph, he is, he is hurt…I saw… Where is he? Is he fine? I want to see him."

Draven didn't know how to answer seeing her messy, disoriented state. "We have to go somewhere."

"I want to see Morph. He was…"

"Let us go see him. It's good that you are awake."

"Is he alright? Is he still being treated? That weapon…his heart…" Her trembling lips could not form a coherent sentence, as if there was too much to say but she could not voice them out. 

Draven gently soothed her hair. "You need to get up so I can take you to him."

Draven helped Ember get out of the bed before calling for her servants. Though Ember's body  was not in a good condition, she had been given potions which made her body strong enough to be able to stand and walk. 

Her servants silently helped her get ready and she was dressed in a simple white dress. Ember was too fixated on visiting Morpheus to notice they were avoiding mentioning his current state.

Once she was ready to leave, Draven ordered the servants to leave the two of them alone. He then gazed down into her red-rimmed eyes.

"Ember," he started, his voice low and tired, "when we arrive, I hope you will remain calm."

For some odd reason, fear started to creep inside Ember's heart. Was Morpheus in a miserable state? Could it be that he is still unconscious? But then, that made sense. Being stabbed by a weapon in the heart, even someone as strong as Morpheus needed adequate time to recuperate. 

Ember agreed to Draven's request. As long as she gets to see her friend and confirm with her own eyes that he is fine, she would agree to anything.

Before they reached Redcrest City, a message had been sent there about the visit of the King and his mate. Draven wished that place to be devoid of people by the time Ember arrived. 

Draven brought Ember to the city of the feathered races using his powers. 

It was the first time Ember visited Redcrest, but it was nighttime and the only source of light were the sun stones illuminating the windows of the residences. To the supernatural beings with sharp eyesight, there was nothing strange about this, but for a human like Ember, the sight of the large forest and the nest abodes on the trees appeared gloomy and eerily imposing. 

In front of Ember stood a gigantic ancient tree with a thick crown and an even thicker body, large enough that numerous connecting nests were built around it, and the hollowed trunk further divided into sections with the entrance at the bottom of the tree. It was precisely the clan building, where the huge assembly hall in the middle was opened to the public for Morpheus' wake.

There was not a single soul in sight. The premises  had been emptied out before their arrival.

'This is Morph's house?'

Ember stared at the enormous tree, silently berating Morpheus in her mind at how he played down his description of his residence.  From what Morpheus had described to her, his home was a small nest abode that could only house a single person. How was this small? 

But then, Ember realized this was way too large to be one person's residence. It must be a common building for the clan and Morpheus was being treated inside. 

When the mated pair stepped inside a large hall, Ember saw only two people present. One was a man with gray wings, and she recognized him as a member of the council and Morpheus' uncle, Agraleus, The other was a young man with golden wings, the guest of the palace who was also Morpheus' nephew,  Aureus.

Ember's gaze followed the center of the hall where a body was lying on the stone platform. 

Though she was yet to come close, that body was…Morpheus?

Her breathing turned chaotic, and her grip tightened on Draven's hand. A part of her was in denial, but the voice of her rational side was impossible to ignore.