“I don't think this is worth it anymore.” Aaba said. Her white blouse was dirtied from dirt.

 “That's all it took? A bit of dirt?” Delga crossed her arms. “Alright, let's go.”

 It was a pretty easy decision to make. They had just reached the bottom of the staircase. They went down, what? Twenty, thirty steps total. It wasn't too late to call it quits and turn back.

 Delga had just gotten to the top when they heard a noise. The door opening. The two looked at each other for a split second before they plunged back into the depths they tried to escape from. Delga closed the trapdoor behind her.

 The two stayed still and quiet as they listened to what was going on above.

 Footsteps that stopped after a short while. Obviously, she noticed that her house seemed more messy than it was before, and eventually she'd notice some of her stuff was missing too. It wouldn't be too long before she noticed that her secret door was exposed too.

 Maybe she'd assume they had closed it before they left? I mean, it's not like they'd trap themselves down there. Well, for no good reason.

They couldn't take any chances. So, Aaba grabbed onto Delga's hand as she walked deeper into the tunnel. Delga moved along with her. 

 They walked about twelve metres before they met what was at the end of this tunnel. To tell you the truth, this witch had not chosen to specialize in architecture magic, and she got tired of all the digging she had to do. So she created soldiers out of old furniture to do it. But, they got tired too. Anyways, they found a room. A bedroom.

 Complete with a rug, wardrobe, and nightstand. In the middle of the room was a bed, draped with white curtains. There was a silhouette of somebody laying in the bed, their breath rising and falling with each breath.

 “What is that?” Aaba said.

 “I dunno, go check it out.” To which Aaba gave her friend a look that said ‘Seriously?’. Delga sighed. “Well, it's better than an angry witch. And maybe they could help us.”

 Oh well, Aaba was probably going to die anyway. Might as well solve this mystery they had discovered.

 Aaba pulled the curtains to the side to reveal… a child. And a very sick child at that.

 Their skin had a slight green hue to it. In school they'd teach you what different colours in your skin mean. Green is for cursed. Some deeper splotches of green and bumps had littered their skin as well. The flesh around their fingernails-which were about to fall off- was darkened, and they were completely bald. There's no point in describing the rest of this kid's state, because they looked gross and I don't want to go into detail about it.

 “What did she do to this kid?” Delga said.

 “Maybe we should report this to somebody.” Aaba said. Just because they stole to make a living doesn't mean they're horrible people! “If we get out of here.”

 “What are you doing in my house?”

They turned around, and there was the witch. Well assumed witch technically. But just look at this place! And look at her! All black clothes, silver hair contained in a black hat.

“I didn't do anything to him, he was cursed.” She walked closer. They stepped to the side, and she knelt by the bed. “Cursed from Judaria.”

Judaria is a rare but deadly disease that initially started out as a curse set on somebody. Somehow, it became contagious and started to spread. You still hear about some cases of it still going around today. Because it is still a curse, there is no medicinal cure for it. If you wanted to get rid of it, you'd have to perform a spell to break it. This was difficult for anybody that wasn't the controller of the curse, who was now long dead for sure.

“You're trespassing,” she rose up to look at them. “If I were to do something, the law would be in my favour. I don't want to resort to that, and you don't want me to either.”

She looked at them, waiting for them to speak. But they remained quiet. She hummed and turned around. “Follow me, I'm sure we can work something out.”

Her name was Agatha. She told them that as they made their way out of the basement.

She had prepared some tea, for herself of course. You don't give refreshments to house intruders. “That boy is my grandson. My daughter died, and her husband followed a few months later. I was left with him to take care of.”

“I loved him, even when money became tight. I decided to do more of the unsavoury requests people asked of me, a witch, to do. You know, death, bad luck, despair. It was all well until one day he came back home and he was different. You see what he's ended up like now.”

“I have figured out a way to cure it, from old scrolls and some experiments of my own. But, you see, I am in no state to leave this town. It's just too dangerous for me, and he needs someone to take care of him. But, none of the ingredients are available in Geropunt. Well, maybe some but they'd be extremely scarce.”

“I'm sure you can see where this is going. I want you to get those items for me. I'll give you a month, it shouldn't take you more than that. If you don't make it back in time, I'll kill you. Simple as that.”

“What,” Aaba said, but had to clear her throat, “what are these items?”

“I'll make you a list and where to get them while you tidy up my house. After that, why don't you get lost?”