The Devil's Cursed Witch
The tale of a man who brings death and a girl who denies it. ---- On the haunted mountain in the kingdom, they say there lived a witch. She was born a princess. But even before her birth, the priest declared her to be cursed and demanded her death. They poisoned the mother to kill the baby before she gave birth, but the baby was born out of the dead mother—a cursed child. Again and again, they tried to kill the baby but she miraculously survived every single attempt. Giving up, they abandoned her on the haunted mountain to die but she still survived on that barren land— A witch ‘Why won’t she die?’ Years later, the people finally had enough of the witch and decided to burn the mountain. But the Devil arrived to her rescue and took her with him from that burning place, because dying was not her destiny even then. Draven Amaris. The Black Dragon, who ruled over supernatural beings, the Devil who no one wished to cross a path with. He hated humans but this certain human girl would pull him towards her whenever she was in danger. ‘Is she really a human?’ He took the human with him and named this mysteriously tenacious girl “Ember”, a piece of glowing coal in a dying fire. A soul tainted with vengeance and the darkness of hell, would rise from the ashes and fulfil her revenge. ------ This is the second book from the series of The Devils and Witches. 1st book - Witch's daughter and the Devil's son. 3rd book- The Devil's Betrothed. All books are connected to each other but you can read them as stand-alone.
The Day Of Mourning
On this particular day, the morning was unusually bright, the blue sky almost cloudless, as if to declare the weather would be bright and sunny all day long.
The warm summer-like atmosphere would normally cause naughty children to run about in laughter and sneak out to play outdoors, but none of the young ones within Agartha dared make a noise on this day.
Regardless if they were elves, fairies, witches, shapeshifters, or the other hidden races, all their villages and cities had a rare solemn mood that day.
The day of mourning, the most important day for the Kingdom of Agartha.
It was not a celebration, but an annual commemoration of the dead.
One would think it strange, why these long-lived races who treated years as shortly as weeks would commemorate their loved one's death anniversary, but that only proved how devastating that massacre one hundred years ago was to the living residents of Agartha.