“She said yes,” Flynn said as he entered the kitchen.

“That’s good. Where should we meet her?” Death said.

“At Discedite’s barrier.”

“Which barrier?”

“The one here at the lower.”

“Okay.” Death arranged her belongings precisely, carefully selecting the items she felt worthy of inclusion in her bag. The weight of her load seemed to rise with each item she placed within. As the zipper strained against the pull, threatening to give way under great pressure, the battle to zip the bag became obvious. It was a test of wills, a measure of strength, as Death's persistence won out, and the zipper eventually gave way, sealing the bag tight. The bag, a storage monster, towered above Death's small frame, its size appearing disproportionate to her own. It had a life of its own, ready to unleash its contents. Its bloated appearance indicated the vast volume of stuff crammed within as if it were about to vomit its stomach contents. The weight of the bag threatened to drag her down, bending her under its oppressive force as Death heaved it onto her shoulder. Nonetheless, she stood straight, her resolve unwavering, as if defying the load she bore. The sack became an extension of her person, a physical embodiment of the weight she carried, an affirmation of the obligations she bore as a forerunner of death. 

“That’s it? You’re not going to ask how she will get inside Discedite?”

“Ah, so you sorcerers do know what lies inside Discedite, huh.”

“Of course we do. We built a barrier for ourselves as well.” Death waved him off as she wore the enormous bag on her shoulders.

“I don’t care. I’ll just do what I came there for. It’s none of my business how in Sonow she walks on that forest as if just walking on a park.” She walked to the entrance and breathed in. “Let’s go. I wanna see this life witch now.” We used the same path that we used going to the black market last time. I’ve pretty much memorized it and can go to the black market on my own despite the similar look of the trees. After passing the Gwyn Forest, the black market followed. The place is still as busy with different creatures walking around and the loud voices of some merchants behind. At the very end, the path slowly cleared and the ground became a bit sandy.

“This is the village, Aico. Where most sorcerers from the lower live.” Asphalt said. I looked around, soaking in the exquisite fine details of the environment. Above, the roof, made from huge leaves that provided a protective shield against the elements, stood as an honor to nature's inventiveness. The roof, adorned with a net so thick that it defied the rain's attempts to penetrate its defenses, formed a haven of dryness among the lush surroundings. It was a marvel, a symbiotic marriage of nature's riches and human skill. As I moved my sight lower, the walls came into focus, their spotless whiteness contrasting with the brilliant colors of the vegetation. The rounded and smooth edges appeared to resemble the organic shapes of the natural world, perfectly blending the man-made and the wild. It represented the harmony that prevailed within this hidden refuge, where the lines between the created and the untamed were blurred.

The entrance, a stunning piece in its own right, echoed the design of the roof. It emanated an earthy charm, its surface clothed with the same thick netting that protected it against the weather. It was a portal, a gateway into a realm where nature and magic coexisted, calling those who dared to go beyond. Beyond my immediate surrounding environment, I noticed numerous residences, their presence adding to the sense of community that thrived in the idyllic setting. At least four houses stood proudly, each one a monument to the uniqueness of its inhabitants. They lined the way ahead of us, their placement intentionally allowing us to see the unobstructed path that extended ahead of us. It was a smart arrangement that ensured nothing hampered our progress as we walked.

A few witches saw us among the peace, their interest stirred by our presence. Instead of welcoming our arrival, they decided to retreat, quickly closing their windows. It was a delicate gesture, a nonverbal indication that our coming had upset their peaceful equilibrium. They sought refuge within the walls of their homes, leaving us to unravel the enigmas of this place on our own. We’ve been walking quite a while now but the youngest witch I’ve seen is already walking.

“What happened here, Death? I haven’t seen an infant yet.” I said. It could be due to the path we’re walking on that we haven’t been able to pass by a child but I’d like to know if it is because of something else.

“We aren’t able to reproduce anymore, kid. We lost that years ago.” Death answered.

“There are no infants?” 

“No.” I figured it was odd that there isn’t at least one around when this is the only village at the lower. 

“But we can’t die either. Not unless Death touches them. Natural death is no longer experienced here.” Asphalt added.

“Is that why they are avoiding Death?” I asked.

“That’s one thing, the other is that-.” Asphalt said but was cut by Death.

“It was two years ago. There’s no such thing as upper and lower and the sorcerers aren’t as judgemental as they are now. But then, a changmion* has suggested that there isn’t any kind of equality between the witches. We are opposites so it is not right that we are mingling together. That is how the idea of good witches and bad witches began. According to them, good witches are those capable of doing all the good things. Their group includes the weathans, the life witches, the mizushi, and the changmion. They create life, calm things, and could bring a smile to any sorcerers’ and creatures’ faces. While we are the bad witches because we have done nothing but cause havoc in Sonow Rock. Wetterans* have created nothing but storms, erraticons cause riots, and mbibitals* destroy things. Among all, they are more angry towards the death sorcerers because they feel like we are just taking life from them. They are not wrong but that is not the only thing we do. Every lost life is a bloom for another. Our kind controls the population of Sonow Rock to make sure that we are not overpopulated and that there is always room for new life. They didn’t like that. No one has liked what we were doing from the very beginning, I mean would you want your loved one being taken from you by some witch? We understood their opinions but we don’t just kill, we’d be murderers if it were made that way. We see some dark aura if someone’s time was up and we just follow that. They wouldn’t even take that matter. The changmion named Krion promised everyone that if my kind was killed, they would not separate the sorcerers anymore. So they hunt us down, killing every single one of us mercilessly. My parents hid us so we won’t be taken by the others and we watched them get killed, kid. Such a sickening event. It was just the two of us when the sorcerers realized that Krion was still planning on dividing the sorcerers into two so they stopped the killing and protested about it. But so much time has passed, so much that they have made way to push the sorcerers to the lower and keep them from here without making them use their magic. That’s why everyone hates the upper, they are merciless creatures.” Death said.

“Not all of them are merciless.” Flynn looked at Death and she replied with a smile.

“Of course.” 

“We?” I asked. Death looked at me confusingly. “You said there’s two of you. You’re not the only death witch left?”

“No. There’s a warlock. My twin brother.”

“You have a twin?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know where he is now though. He left without a word a year ago.”

“Oh.” All the storytelling distracted me from our trip, I didn’t notice we'd reached our destination. We are confronted by a massive barrier, its towering presence reaching ahead of us, a hushed hum echoing in the air. It looks like an imposing stone, an impassable barrier separating us from the mysterious realm beyond. Our gaze is pulled to the astounding sight that lies on the other side - tall trees reaching for the heavens, their great height hidden in mystique. The length of this forest appears boundless, its borders hidden from view as if it hides secrets only the trees can reveal. The leaves scattered on the ground attract our attention, like a tapestry of nature. They are unlike what humans have ever seen, their enormity confounding logic and reason. The perspective alters, and we are reduced to the size of ants in this enormous environment, humbled by the grandeur of nature's wonders.

There is a sense of wonder, an unquenchable yearning to explore the unexplored land beyond the barrier. However, there is a tinge of nervousness, a whisper of warning that reminds us of the possible perils that may lay inside the forest's depths. It is a delicate mix of curiosity and dread, a ballet of emotions that heightens our senses and feeds our expectations. 

“You really came.” A female voice came from the other side of the barrier. A figure appeared from the darkness, mesmerizing in her ethereal presence. Her beautiful white hair cascaded like a moonlight river, flowing with heavenly grace. Each strand shimmered and danced, as though imbued with a divine light that defied earthly confines. Her pale skin sparkled with an abstract elegance, throwing an exquisite sheen on her features, like porcelain kissed by the moon's soft touch. Her every gesture, as she took a step forward, showed beauty and confidence. Her exquisite movements appeared to defy gravity as if she were floating on air itself. Her eyes, pools of mystery and depth, carried a hypnotic charm, drawing you in with an irresistible pull. They glistened with wisdom and knowledge that hinted at life beyond physical grasp.

Her face possessed an elegant grace that left you breathless like that of a goddess dropped from the sky. Her features were expertly carved, with each contour and curve being an ode to divine artistry. Her exquisite complexion, unblemished by the passage of time, radiated a celestial radiance. She seemed to carry a piece of the moon's light within her existence. Her presence commanded attention, capturing everyone who came into contact with her. She radiated force and grace, a fascination that drew attention and kept it. Her attractiveness was more than just physical; it was an intoxicating combination of confidence, mystery, and an undeniable air of authority. One couldn't help but feel reverence and awe in her presence as if they were standing before a deity in human form. She was a vision, a living embodiment of beauty and grace, a rare and extraordinary individual who left an everlasting impact on all who saw her.

“This is the life witch I’m talking about,” Flynn said. There is silence. The barrier hums faintly as if it were whispering secrets only the wind can deliver. The trees stand tall as keepers of ancient wisdom and hidden stories. Death squinted her eyes trying to adjust to the dim lighting and frowned.

“Why did you bring me Harmey?” Death said with a hint of disgust in her tone.

“It’s been so long, Death,” Harmey said.

“Do you know each other? Didn’t you tell us you don’t know any life witches?” Flynn said.

“Like I could communicate with the sorcerers up there, hm? Even if I could, I wouldn’t call this pick-me woman. She’s 94 but still can’t survive without the validation of a warlock. Have you forgotten when to grow up? You’re no longer 42.” Death said then rolled her eyes.

“Such mean words coming from a good-for-nothing witch, is it not, Calixo?” Harmey said and crossed her arms.

“What did you just say?”

“Am I wrong?”

They were both glaring at each other from the sides of the barrier. Without this barrier, they would have pulled each other’s hair by now. 

“You don’t want to… talk with her anymore? We can just leave.” Asphalt told Death.

“As if! After I found you here? Leave and I’ll let the authorities know of your existence. You'll finally get the attention you deserve! You’ll be a celebrity!” Harmey said.

“You never change, Harmey. You’re still a snitch!” Death said.

“Say that again, I dare you,” Harmey said as she glared at Death. Unbothered by this, Death glared back at her, facing her head-on.

These two must’ve had a long history to be hating each other like this.

“Didn’t you come here for something? What is it?” Harmey said. “You can have the spotlight. Spill it.”