A white hot pressure was building up in Ara's head. She woke up with a throbbing headache, her skull feeling as though it was caught in a vice and the mere thought of dealing with everything and everyone made her feel like throwing herself out a window. She took a few extra moments to rest, mentally running through her checklist for the procession, sermon and burial where she would send off the King's spirit.

That was the other talent she had that set her apart from the regular Witch.

Spells, potions, hexes, curses, she knew them all, but Ranhara enforced their usage very strictly. Spells for making life easier, that was, making objects perform their intended purpose without manual interference, were very much allowed. Potions were mostly used for curing ailments and only a few dedicated institutions actually knew how to make them properly. The average Ranharan usually knew enough from their high school days to cure simple things - cuts and scrapes, but not more than that. Ara knew she should know, but her head hurt too much for her to think clearly nor did she have any of the ingredients on hand to even try healing her headache.

The hexes and curses were reserved for the Witches of the underworld who decided to use it for evil - torture, extortion and harrassment. Thankfully, such illegal magic was heavily monitored, the perpetrators caught more often than not and a permanent tracking and binding spell placed upon them, essentially revoking their right to privacy and their ability to perform magic of any kind - a harsh and irreversible punishment for those seeking to abuse their powers.

Ara's eyes slid open, meeting the dark wood canopy of her four post bed. With all of her energy, she rolled over and pushed herself up, her hand flying to her head as she stood properly - the pain hitting her again from a different angle and almost knocking her over once more. Slowly, she righted herself and grabbed her long, pitch black leather cape covered in golden embroidery - trinity symbols, infinity knots and all kinds of circular artwork, trimmed with the hair of black boars and accented on the shoulders with their tusks that had been coated in gold. 'Heavy' was an understatement. Still, she managed to secure the cape around her shoulders with the largest ceremonial brooch she owned; an ornate ring the size of a small plate pierced through with a sword-like pin. 

She double checked her appearance. Hair was neatly done - no flashy headwear or pins, just plain dull gold with no jewels. Dark circles loomed under her eyes. She looked like hell, and she couldn't look like hell because the press were going to be there covering the event - the parade throughout the city, oh god, she would give her left arm to not have to do the parade. Why today of all days did she have to fall ill with a sinus infection? Was it because she stayed out all night with Jun? She didn't regret it, but she could very well do without this nonsense. Using what felt like massive amounts of energy, she located her concealer and painted it over her already powdered face, under her eyes and chin, on her nose and cheekbones. Hmm. At least she looked much better than she felt. A sudden knock on her door alerted her that she ought to leave as soon as possible and so she tossed aside her concealer and truged over to begin the day.

*     *     *

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As the evening drew in and the sun started to set, the send off for the King finally began. The doctor had managed to sneak through security during the procession and slip her some medicine to take which helped a little, but not enough, and so it was with a convincingly sombre attitude that Ara delivered the speech.

"Dearly beloved friends, family, loyal subjects and allies from other territories, we are gathered here on this evening to show our deepest sorrow and gratitude for the departed King. He was beloved by our people, respected, powerful yet gentle, compassionate and understanding and will be missed and mourned by all and so, it is with my... fullest sympathy that I invite those that he is survived by: Queen Yifa, Crown Prince Zhan, Prince Min and Princess Bea and his grandchildren to come forward and say their final goodbyes."

Ara lowered her eyes as she heard the Queen burst into tears. The grandchildren brought flowers to put inside the metal casket that was full of large holes, the King still partially visible. It allowed the body to remain on earth while the spirit could escape and cross over. The casket did not allow any spirit to re-enter, thus preventing any connection with the body and therefore stopping any spirit from taking a human-like form. It also prevented resentful, sad or vengeful ghosts from lingering around. She stepped back as Prince Min accompanied his mother to view his father's body one last time, the anguish clear in his own voice as he spoke. Zhan was much more put together, his voice stable, controlled but with a hint of sadness. Princess Bea, the gentlest of the three children, was just as bad as her mother, though thankfully had her husband by her side to keep her calm.

As the last of the evening light faded, Ara turned her back on the casket, as did the mourners, and she pulled her necklace off and held the pendant between her palms, silently praying before uttering "Ascend". After a moment of silence, the sound of wind rushing grew louder and louder, disturbing the mourners and causing their robes to flap around violently as a strong gale suddenly stormed behind them, whirling around at breakneck speed. The mourners did their best to hold firm in their stances until the wind died down to a calm breeze and when Ara voiced that they could turn around once more, they did so in time to see the final orbs of light rising from the casket that was slowly lowered into the ground. Once the last orb of light left, the keepers used the 'move' spell to gently fill the space and then proceeded to plant seeds on top of the dirt.

"Ara."

The Witch turned her head slightly in greeting to Prince Min, who stood sheepishly by the door of the dining room where she had escaped the mayhem.

"Your Highness."

The young man ran a hand through his wavy black hair, his wide eyes focused on the ground as he battled with himself over what to say. He felt embarrassed, because he was so hung up on demanding answers from Ara about her visions and feeling somehow wronged that Zhan was the one who would be King and now his father was gone and the reality of an entire country relying on him made him feel overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry."

Ara's ears pricked up at his apology and she fully faced him, her head resting against the stone wall where she sat in the bay window. She said nothing, but simply looked at him with blank, tired eyes and a slight frown on her face. What was he on about now? What would she have to comfort him over? Min cleared his throat, glancing sideways for a split second before he realised that she was waiting for him to explain.

"I shouldn't have grilled you so much over your visions. That's not something you would lie about and I'm sorry for doubting you."

"Why this all of a sudden, Your Highness?" she yawned, fighting off sleep.

"After everything that happened recently, I just thought I should apologise."

"Okay." she said, her large eyes heavy with fatigue. 

Well, then.

Min nodded and turned back around, leaving the room as quietly as he had entered.