The Devil's Cursed Witch

Erlos awkwardly cleared his throat and approached the drunk man nearest to him. “Good day, mister.”

“S-S-Sir! No, young master! Young lord!” the drunk man stammered incoherently. “What brings a nobleman to this poor village? How can I help you?”

Before Erlos could reply, another man who seemed to be more sober commented, “Must be someone from the capital of the kingdom who came here after hearing the witch has died.”

“Ah, right! Uhh, erm, call for the Village Chief! Tell him a visitor has arrived—”

“No, thank you, gentlemen,” Erlos replied, not wanting to prolong his stay. “I want to ask what happened to that mountain.” He pointed towards the form of the rugged peak visible from the village.

“That mountain? Of course, we burned it! We burned it didn’t we?” said another drunk and everyone laughed with him.

“I helped pour oil!”

“I helped by throwing a torch!”

“Yes, we are heroes! We killed that witch.”

The young elf exclaimed, “You burned a witch to death? Truly?”

From what he understood, these humans were part of a mob who helped burn that mountain to kill someone who’s allegedly a witch. But could burning a mountain truly kill a real witch? Absurd! Only weak humans would die from such a nonsense thing. Any creature capable of wielding magic would have found a way to escape, one way or another. If they claimed they hunted a witch, chained her to a pyre and put her to fire, he would have at least somehow believed them.

Erlos tilted his head in confusion. ‘Speaking of which, isn’t the human girl the King brought back last night injured with burn marks? Could it be that he found her half-dead body on that mountain? Oh, so we came here to investigate what happened to her! Sire, you should have told me that from the very beginning! And I was right, I came among these disgusting humans because of that human female.’

Unaware of the elf’s thoughts, the villagers continued to ramble on, “Isn’t the liquor provided by the royal family the reward we got from helping? After the fire burned everything in that mountain, the army searched the mountain and confirmed that the witch is dead.”

“Pity they didn’t find her bones.”

“What are you talking about? Nothing remains of that taboo because we have burned her to ashes. Good riddance!”

‘Are these humans talking about a real witch or that human girl Sire brought with him the previous night?’ Erlos wondered.

Although the young elf was living in Agartha, a kingdom isolated from the human kingdoms of the continent, he had a basic understanding of humans. ‘They do not know that witches are born, not made. Witches are a race, the same way humans and elves are races. Oftentimes, only one out of the hundred females they call ‘witches’ is a real witch.’

Erlos returned his attention to the villagers. “Have you personally seen this witch? What does she look like?”

“Of course not!” the man replied. “I would be dead now if that was the case!”

“Indeed, young lord,” replied the first villager Erlos approached. “They say her appearance is so shocking and terrifying, those who saw it died on their feet.”

“Hah, she must have looked like the worst nightmare imaginable personified!” one man replied, and then they continued to ramble on about things that Erlos found to be nonsense.

The young elf moved away from them, deciding that perhaps it would be smarter to ask the women. ‘Those females might answer me more seriously.’

“Miss, do you know who is this witch? Does she have a name? Perhaps, are there stories about what she looks like?”

Sadly, he was sorely mistaken thinking going to this side of the village was better. The women were more drunk than the men.

One woman laughed the moment she saw Erlos. “Oh, I drank too much, I died and have ascended to heaven! I think I see an angel standing in front of me!”

Another woman joined her as well. “I ascended together with you, hah!”

“Is this a dream? I mean, look at those eyes, that hair…He looks so different but so beautiful—”

“He looks perfect, no, divine.”

“Maybe he is truly an angel?”

“But, why are his ears like that?” Someone pointed out. “Oh, maybe it’s because I drank so much my eyes are fuzzy…but don’t they look long?”

Erlos touched his ears in horror when he found those women coming closer to him, intent on touching his pointed ears.

‘Insolent females!’ Erlos stepped back and found his way back to his master in a hurry. He didn’t wish to stay among these horrifying human creatures for even a second longer.

Erlos returned to Draven who didn’t need to hear a retelling of the elf’s experience as he heard everything clearly from his position.

“Sire, I don’t think these humans are sane enough to answer us. From what I heard though, I think the human girl you brought with you, they think she is a witch.”

Draven didn’t react and turned to face a certain direction. Erlos was startled to find an old woman with a hunched back approaching them, walking with the support of a thick wooden stick as if she’s struggling with every step she took.

A weak, raspy voice spoke, “They all are celebrating the death of an innocent girl.”

Erlos looked at the strange white-haired woman whose face was covered with wrinkles, her film-covered eyes seemingly implying weak eyesight.

Her statement made the elf curious. “Lady, what do your words mean? Which innocent child are you talking about?”

“Looks like gentlemen are foreigners from outside the kingdom.”

Erlos nodded. “Indeed, we are. We are merchants passing by.”

The old lady slowly turned her body, as if to look at the village with heavy disappointment. “The royal family of this kingdom of Valor only gave birth to princes, never a princess for generations. But one fine day the oracle predicted that the King would be blessed with a daughter. The King and the entire royal family rejoiced, only to give up on her because the high priest of the ancient temple forewarned him that she was a bad omen, a disaster not only to this kingdom but to the entire continent.”

“Gave up on her?” Erlos asked. “That princess?”

The older lady sighed with a light nod. “The Princess, the witch they say.”

Erlos frowned in deep thought, while Draven spoke in his indifferent voice as if he felt no sympathy for anyone. “Are you sure there is no truth in their claim?”

The old lady chuckled lightly and peered with interest at the tall man in regal clothes. “My lord, I believe what is supposed to happen, is meant to happen. So, one should not turn cruel thinking they can change it.”

Erlos quietly listened to their conversation, his ears twitching especially upon hearing his master’s mysterious remark. When neither of them said anything more, he probed, “So is that princess really a witch?”

Both didn’t answer him.

“God bless her poor soul wherever she is,” was all the old lady said as she turned to leave, not asking about the real identities of the two beautiful men claiming to be merchants from another land.