The Witch of Grace; Beneva

[Sophia Van Gongorei]

Erosia, a land suculent in natural resorces. It was an exceptionally healthy land thriving off the amazing energy source that the roots of the massive tree whose name she had come to learn. The town itself might have been... humble but the land. Oh was the land... juicy.

"Azlan"

It gave life and literal support to the islands connected to it. There was once a time when she knew much of the lands of Vescrutia. A time when she could tell you the names of thousands of plants and animals. The cultures that grew around their natural gifts. Much of that world had changed, the last time she walked these lands they were ripe with war, chaos, and destruction. Yet, when she tried to remember her original ties all she could conjure in her mind were half-memories, murky images, and voices. Nothing more, it was as if...

"Aaazzllaannn"

It rolled off her tongue, just echoing its name sent a thrill of inquiry through her body. There was an incredible power behind its wooden shell. And she fully intended to drain it dry.

"Hehehe...HAHAHAHAH!"

Her cackle echoed throughout her cottage a marvelous creation that took her quite some time to build. It required a specific... touch. One that might attract the wrong eyes should she be caught in her dabbling. The locals have told her much of this place in the year it had been since she arrived. Erosia was not the only place where civilization thrived and yet ripe Morales’s vagabonds. A realm where the strong devoured the weak. Where the underlying fear of deception and betrayal was always hovering in the air. At least it had been before up until a year ago when a mysterious illness began infecting the people. A most terrible affliction, one that seemed to turn its victims into onyx-colored husks before ultimately killing them. Named by the locals as "The Black Kiss" about its modes of transmission. Physical touch, even as gentle and simple as a kiss could be deadly.

"It's true name however..."


She said as she approached a desk that had several open books on it. Leagues of literature that carried from local herbology to the tomes of the island's ancient lore and beliefs. Her garment was her usual solid black dress that hugged her curvature wonderfully. Like living onyx, she moved through the space. Her movements led her to a book that was the same shade of black as her dress. It was open revealing a plant.

"The Black Hand"


A curse in liquid form, an insidious blend of alchemy and forbidden magic. One that was laying the foundation for her ambitions. To escape this wretched land once and for all.

"That...man pig who summoned me has proven himself useless. It is the nature of his kind after all."


She would lift the book turning its pages to sketches of a tree parts of it decorated like a shrine.

"The boy, however...he may have his uses yet. A true living Venkage, one could not ask for a better pawn. If he truly does succeed in finding the treasure of the Storm God's Shrine. Then my success is even more assured." Something within Azlan slumber's something that feels so very familiar to me. No doubt it is power.

Her wicked smile widened.

"Once I am free, truly free, my work can begin. A blanket of black, a flood of onyx."


Her aura began to palpitate as the dastardly smoke of her essence began to seep through coalescing around her.

" And his soul...yes... that light. That insidious glaring light. How pleasing it will be to finally see it snuffed out."


*Knock Knock*

"Lady Beneva, please it's my husband"

The shadow stopped and began to slowly recede into her body. Her evil smile became a somber one of irritation. Like a child whose fun had been interrupted by a parent with rules. The vehemence in her soul clawed at the walls of her fleeting sense of purpose. To say hell with ceremony and massacre the whole of them would surely make this process a lot faster.

I...must not indulge...

Death would come, but not before its appointed time. Until then her role as a healer a caregiver must be played flawlessly. She would sigh deeply, walking over to her mirror. She would take in the glory of her natural beauty smirking slightly before waving her hand over her reflection. By the time the wave ended her form had shifted. Her hair color changed from pitch black to platinum blonde. Her black attire now flowing white and gold garbs. Her image radiated purity and the desire to care for and love her fellow man. Befitting of a healer. The interior of her space also changed going from an elaborately decorated lab to a humble healer cottage filled with herbs plants and spices of all kinds.

"Oh, my visitors...one second!"

She said as she neared the door. Another day of saving lives for her own nefarious desires.