So you guys can expect to have your favourite Antarctica return soon! Soon enough at least.

But after toughing it out so much at the dreaded Ȁ̸͔r̶̩̒c̷̦̀h̶͇̔i̴͇͑v̵̨͒e̶̮̾s̸̱̐, I had to go and survive several hours at the offices of the entities.

Did you guys know many otherworldly entities have bureucratic establishments that serve as lines of communication between them and our world?

Now you do.

And it was awful to have to tough it out with getting all the necessary forms and signatures to send my appeals.

At some point I wanted to leave in rage at having to hand yet another form to yet another secretary of yet another bureucrat, but this great witch's wisdom is as vast as the embrace of Mother Earth herself, so this great witch has endured.

And this great witch has done her work in time!

After doing all that, I was looking forward to going home and having a deep deep power nap that would last at least 72 hours, but I met an unexpected acquiantance on the way back.

I met Nephele's father.

Who I was pretty certain was supposed to have died thousands of years ago as he was an ordinary mortal, but when you are a great witch like me, you learn to take unexpected occurences in stride.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

He gifted me a little ba- bamby lamb as a gift which was pretty nice because I was quite hungry, and I had to entertain him with conversation as we walked.

He now served some Lord of His Majesty Hades' Realm and ran errands on this side. Because he had a relatively lofty position (he didn't say it but I could feel this opinion oozing off of him) he couldn't help but talk up a bunch about magic in front of this great witch and because he was, at the end of the day, an ordinary mortal, all of his talk was misinformed nonsense that was grating to the ears and lacked even a lick of common sense and logic.

Because this great witch is wise as the heavens, she did not point out the flaws in this poor old man's speech and played along.

After parting with the old man, this great witch went on her way home again.

But then this great witch's phone rang.

A premonitary sense for incoming trouble that this great witch has cultivated over her long life had caused me to almost throw the ringing phone against the concrete wall of the metro station like the signal of omen it was, but the boundless wisdom like the all-encompassing Cosmos made this great witch stay her hand and accept the call.

Like the ringling bells of Hell, the voice on the other side of the line was tempting and alluring, yet, same as the accursed bells, it spelled only suffering to those inclined to hear it.

It was a call from a secretary of Hell, notifying me that the incoming hearing over the case of ownership of Antarctica was to be scheduled tomorrow.

As a great witch, I am pretty immune to bizarre and illogical occurences, yet how the awful bureucratic machine has managed to act so fast has struck even me dumb for a moment.

But it also meant my promised nap would not come. I had to review the case materials and prepare for the next day.

At last, this great witch had arrived home, drank a cup of tea on the porch and wrote this blog. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.