Novels2Search

Side Story #2: A Witch's Life

"Katherine’s heart pounded, nearly making her throw up. She could only stare at the monstrosity before her.

A demon that towered over most boss monsters in dungeons—it was almost as big as a castle. The creature made no sense. It had two legs, an unnaturally large body and two big arms but instead of a single head it had dozens. Each head had a pair of arms, each arm bore a weapon, a few of them blodied by the Cleric’s and Paladin’s blood.

Katherine could only gaze at the weapons that killed her comrades, the power of the strongest adventurer team in the kingdom wasn’t enough to defeat one of the Six Monarchs of Destruction of legend.

No one could have imagined such a creature as a dungeon boss, and now they were paying the price.

“Kath, Reynold… go, run-” Edward, the party’s warrior, begged with his last breath just before a flaming sword pierced him.

His armor shattered under the impact of the weapons, and his flesh was torn apart, limb from limb.

She breathed raggedly. For all the darkness the witch could muster in battle, this situation was too much.

It was at that moment she felt a hand grab her own, her gaze jolted to the touch—Reynold the Rogue.

“Come on, we can’t falter now!” He shouted and grabbed her. “[Stealth], [Shadow Step],” he activated his abilities in quick succession and bolted through the stone floor of the dungeon.

Dungeons were monumental structures made by the gods, they were extremely dangerous but you could escape in case of failure—it would just be very hard to run up each floor.

They ascended floor after floor, Reynold leading the way, dodging monster after monster. His breath became labored, his steps faltering as exhaustion took its toll.

[Shadow Step] was a powerful ability that increased one’s speed by many times but it drained their stamina and mana rapidly.

He was pushing himself far beyond his limits. After a while, each floor felt like an eternity, and Katherine could feel the strain in his grip, the trembling in his hands.

Finally, they reached the last staircase, the dungeon’s exit just within reach. Reynold stumbled, his abilities faltering as his energy waned. The stealth that had shielded them flickered out, leaving them exposed in the dim, torch-lit corridor.

"We’re almost there," Reynold gasped, his voice hoarse with fatigue. He forced a smile, trying to reassure Katherine, but she could see the fear in his eyes. They both knew they were far from safe.

She got out of his grasp, knowing that he was pretty much done, the rogue would now need to be carried to the exit.

But before she could take another step, she felt a chill creep on her spine. She felt like she was being watched. The dungeon’s walls trembled, she turned around as her blood started running cold.

The boss had left the boss room.

It was an unthinkable event. Bosses never left their designated chambers—it was a law of the dungeons, a rule that had never been broken. But this monstrosity, this demon that towered over everything she had ever faced, had shattered that rule.

It used its countless arms to lift the rocky ceiling as it was too big to fit in.

Before Reynold could react, one of the demon’s heads elongated itself out of the main body, striking with blinding speed. Katherine barely registered the movement—a flash of steel—and then Reynold’s body dropped to the ground in front of her, cleaved in half. Blood pooled around him, his life extinguished in an instant.

"No…" Katherine whispered, her voice breaking. Her vision blurred with tears, her breath hitching as she looked at what remained of her friend.

The demon squeezed through the narrow hall, advancing.Katherine’s body trembled, her heart shattering under the weight of grief and terror. She felt the darkness within her stir, the mana she still had wasn’t much.

But ir would have to suffice. Even if she had to break her mana core, she would power through this.

She bit her lip, the taste of blood sharp on her tongue as she fought to regain control of the situation. She gritten her teeth, plunging all her mana outside of her body – it wasn’t enough.

She pressured her mana core to produce more and more mana, ignoring the sharp pain it caused her.

The air around her crackled with raw energy before twisting it into a mass of seething darkness.

“Come forth, my Familiars…” she whispered through the pain.

The shadows around her deepened, coalescing into tangible forms. From the darkness, creatures emerged—hundreds of them.

It was at that moment that several other heads lunged from the demon, keeping themselves only attached to him by a thin line.

Her shadow army blocked the attacks.

The following battle was something not seen by the world, it was something not remembered by anyone, even Katherine. THe only thing she knew is that she later woke up outside the dungeon.

----------------------------------------

“Ugh,” Katherine opened her eyes, sweat drenched her entire body. She lifted her torso up, realizing that she wasn’t on that it was a nightmare.

“This dream again… its been thirty years for god’s sake,” she gasped for air, pressing her hand against her chest. Her chest still hurt from that day.

Both from the extensive damage done to her mana core and the loss she felt throughout all those years.

After a while, Katherine made her way out of her bed, her old bones weighing her down and making it much harder than it used to. At first, she asked her remaining three familiars—since she had lost the strength to summon most of those she had – to gather ingredients from the forest.

Later, as they came back with everything she needed, she started making her potions and elixirs. Ever since the dungeon incident she had to take an elixir to supress her mana because if not then her mana core could lose control of her powers very easily. She also made elixirs for pain and healing potions every day just to combat the problems of old age and from the past battle.

As she worked through her day, memories of her life kept flashing. After losing her companions, she decided to live in seclusion from civilization. She spent many years inside this forest, the few times she met another human being she chased them away.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Eventually she got known as the witch of this region.

One day, a baby appeared in her doorstep enveloped in a towel—she searched for who could have done that but no soul was around to be seen. Katherine decided to raise him as her own, despite kids never being something she wanted she saw it as a better outcome than leaving the boy to die—or throwing him at another doorstep and hoping good people would take him in.

She raised him for many years until he was old enough to go on his adventures. He came back a few times—sometimes even with a girl he had found in his travels. They latter married and that was the last she heard of him.

Then, who could have guessed.

Over a decade latter, his son looked for her to help their family. Despite her outwards demeanor, she felt happy to be useful one more time and helped the child, teaching him the basics of potion making and elixirs. It had now been many months since she started doing so—he had now left the bad life he was leading—and kept visiting for more knowledge.

The past still lingered, the trauma was something that would probably never fully leave her. But the presence of her grandson, the simple joy of being a part of his life, had brought a measure of peace to her heart. She was no longer just the witch of the forest—she was a grandmother and a teacher. And for the first time in a long while, she felt that perhaps, just perhaps, she had found her place in the world once more.

----------------------------------------

A couple of hours later as everything was already done, she stopped in front of the lustrous mirror she had in her house.

She looked at ther frail, decreptive figure for a few moments. ‘Gods, I’ve really become a witch like those in stories,’ she really had become the stereotype.

This was not her objective, though. Katherine stepped closer to the mirror, placing her hands in it.

She breathed slowly, guiding her mana throughout her body to her hand. Purple mist leaked into the air, slowly, before being sucked inside the mirror.

“[Pathway Of The Somber Night],” she muttered. As the words left her lips, the mirror before her began to darken, its surface losing its reflective gleam and becoming an abyssal void.

She felt a pull coming form the mirror, a gentle tug that almost seemed to request her to enter it. Katherine hesitated for a moment as it was always a weird experience but after a few moments stepped forward.

As her foot touched the surface, it didn’t meet cold glass but was instead enveloped by swirling black mist. The sensation was disorienting, like stepping into a cloud of shadows. She took another step, her body sank into the dark mist until she was completely engulfed. There was no resistance, no solid barrier. And then, with a final breath, she crossed the threshold and vanished into the darkness.

When she opened her eyes, she was in a different realm.

This was the Town of Witches, a place that only powerful witches could access. Not only would have to know the name of the spell but they also had to be invited to this realm and leave their key behind—a mirror. In that way, witches throughout time had a safe heaven to visit and relax.

Katherine herself had the privilege of being a member of this town but she rarely visited. Perhaps only once or twice a year as she couldn’t be bothered to put up with her sisters.

As Katherine stepped into the Town, she was met by the all to familiar perpetual twilight of the sky above, painted in hues of indigo and violet, with stars twinkling faintly in the distance.

These stars, however, were not ordinary celestial bodies. They were but an ilustration desgined by magic to simulate the real world. The air was thick with the scent of herbs, incense, and the faint flow of magic that permeated every corner of the town.

Black cats walked and rested everywhere through the town.

Witches made their way with their pointy hats, many of them had brooms for flying even—Katherine didn’t have her own though as ever since the [Flight] spell was invented, flying with a broom was seen as archaic and just tradition. Many of the witches even had their familiars around, ranging from cats to crows and owls.

The streets were lined with buildings that defied the logic of the mortal world. Some homes were tall and narrow, spiraling into the sky like twisted towers, while others were short and round, with roofs made of thatch. Fireflies were encased in glass cases, hung from wrought-iron posts, their bodies flickering with an otherworldly glow, illuminating the town.

As Katherine walked through the town, she noticed shops and stalls lining the streets, each one catering to the unique needs of witches. There were apothecaries filled with rare ingredients, potion shops with bubbling cauldrons, and bookstores filled with ancient scrolls.

Finally, Katherine stopped in front in front of one such shop that caught her attention.

It was a small, cozy-looking café nestled between two larger, more imposing buildings. The sign above the door read “The Enchanted Brew”.

Through the large, glass windows, Katherine could see warm light spilling out onto the cobblestone street, the interior looked cozy with cushioned wooden furniture and a fireplace at the end, warming the place.

Katherine made her way to an empty table near the back, her old bones aching from the journey. She settled into a plush armchair, its cushions soft and welcoming, and took a moment to relax. As she looked around, she noticed that the café was a gathering place for witches of all ages and backgrounds. Some were discussing the latest magical innovations, while others were deep in conversation about ancient rituals and spells. A few were simply enjoying the ambiance, sipping their brews in contented silence.

A young witch with bright, green eyes and a friendly smile approached Katherine’s table, a notepad in hand. "What can I get for you today, ma'am?" she asked, her voice gentle but filled with energy.

Katherine thought for a moment before responding, "I’ll have a cup of your strongest brew, something to clear the mind."

The young witch nodded and hurried off to fulfill the order. As Katherine waited, she let her thoughts wander, the familiar environment of the Town of Witches bringing back memories of her younger days. Despite her reclusive lifestyle, there was a certain comfort in being surrounded by her own kind, in a place where she didn’t have to hide her power or her past.

When the witch returned with a steaming cup of purple liquid, Katherine wrapped her hands around it, feeling the warmth seep into her fingers. She took a sip, it had an extremely bitter taste – in fact it almost tasted like poison – but to an old witch, it was the best thing ever. The warm liquid invigorated

Sipping her brew, Katherine allowed herself to relax, the tension in her body easing. Despite Katherine avoiding too much contact with other witches, this was kind of rest she earned.

After being done, she went to the counter to pay for her drink. The currency was a scroll with a magic circle drawn inside – after adding mana into it, the spell would activate. Any scroll sufficed as witches were drawn by these things.

“Oh please, ma’am. I can’t accept any payment from you, I wouldn’t want to ruin the day,” the young witch said, pushing the scroll back into Katherine’s hands. Katherine frowned her brow, very confused by this predicament but just said thanks and left the place.

The familiar sights of the town greeted her once more as she walked through the streets, the cobblestones uneven beneath her feet. She approached her mirror and once again, her body was enveloped by a black mist as she stepped into it. When she opened her eyes, she was right back at her cabin.

Before she could think of anything, however, a sudden knock on the door took away the air from her lungs. ‘Erik?’ She thought, it was a bit late so it was unusual for him to come by this hour.

When she opened the door though, she was met by both familiar and unfamiliar faces.

There, standing on her doorstep, was Erik, her grandson, holding a cake with delicate candles flickering on top. Beside him was Alice, his mother, whom Katherine hadn’t seen in many years. Besides, there was another boy and a girl, they seemed to be a bit younger than Erik and resembled Alice a lot due to their hair and eyes.

“Happy Birthday, Grandma!” Erik said.

Katherine blinked, her mind catching up to the moment. Her birthday. She had completely forgotten. The years had blended so much that she no longer kept track of the days. Yet here they were, her family, standing on her doorstep with a cake.

Alice stepped forward and gave Katherine a hug to which the witch returned.

“I want to thank you for taking such good care of my son, remember that you will always be part of the family.”

“I…” Katherine cleared her throat, placing her hand in front of her mouth. “I didn’t ask for this but well, if you insist… come on, my home is small but it should be enough,” the old witch turned back inside and walked. Her sleeves cleaned the tears that fell down her through her cheeks.

Despite her solitary life, she felt the warmth of belonging, knowing she was cared for and that, for now, was enough.