I was born from a slave in a remote port town. I never was granted a name. My mother was a young half-elve and my father unknown. I had a monstrous amount of mana and an affinity with curse ,shadow ,fire and death elements. My master, an old human, kept beating me until he discovered it and sold me to the kingdom's magic forces. They used me like a weapon, suppressed my emotions and will to make me kill thousands of innocents. I was used as a catalyst for rituals, summoned undeads and demons or cursed peoples, sometimes even entire towns. I quickly became a empty shell, incapable of anything without someone telling me what to do. Until one day they asked me to summon something they couldn't handle. Even with my power it was impossible to control a forgotten god. The kingdom's capital turned into ashes in less than a day. I barely survived. At first my empty mind didn't give me any reason to move. Then, when hunger struck, whatever natural instincts I still had made me look for food. I lived like a wild beast for months before recovering my sanity.

Once I realized what I had lived through, I started to thirst for revenge. My hatred grew even stronger when i heard the royal familly and their subjects survived by sacrificing an imesurable amount of soldiers. I wanted them to experiment my pain, or at least the one their wars brought upon inocent civilians. But I was alone and weak. I started learning curse magic from the begining, studying the powers that were forced onto me.After years I reached the peak of my art, but it wasn't enough. I needed relics to empower my curses. My journey for power sent me deep in the northern forests, in the ruins of an old temple built under a mountain.

At that moment I already had mastered curse magic, I was a lvl 100 Soulbreaker. I even had a staff made of black dragon bones that empowered all my curses. But it wasn't enough, I needed more, I couldn't juste curse the royals. I wanted their entire legacy to be doomed, their name to be known as synonymous to decay and death. I wanted them to greet me with desperation when I would finally come down to hell. And for that reason, I was looking for some demon or ancient, forgotten god to do my bidding.

After entire weeks spent exploring, I found a secret passage that led me even further down the mountain. There I found something different, it wasn't the shrine of some cursed god, nor a sacrificial ground. It was some sort of small town covered in glowing fungi and moss. The plants had claimed most of the place, mostly because of the lack of inhabitants to prevent them from spreading. Most of the houses were built with stone bricks and crude mortar, though there was the occasional nailed woodpiece covered in moss. The place felt like all it's denizens had vanished, everything was still there: clothes, tools, books, golden coins. All old and covered in dust but still there.

In the middle I found a larger building on the walls of which were carvings of monsters and beasts all kneeling to a group of womens. The inside was a large hall filled with benches and one book holder. The carvings inside were different, they depicted the same womens as before using magic, making potions and conducting rituals.

On the book holder was a large, old and dusty book. Inside were a lot of spells and rituals. I couldn't undertand any of them, the language used was something i never saw before. After going through the whole book, my attention went to the last page. The immage depicted someone drawing a pentagram on the ground with a chalk, then pouring some kind of potion in the middle. The next drawing was the witch throwing blood on the pentagram while chanting some sort of name. On the final one a large omnious figure emerged from the pentagram. Such a being would probably have a way to exert my revenge, I would just have to give him my body, life or soul. I looked back a few pages and found the recipe sharing the name of the mixture needed for the ritual. Thankfully there were illustrations.

After a week to go to the city , get all I need and coming back, I started the ritual. There already was a pentagram in front of the engraved building. I prepared the potion and covered the pentagram. The only thing left was the name of the thing I wanted to invoke. There was none on the spellbook, not that i could have read it anyways. So i loked around and on top of the engravings, atop the head of the higher, most beautiful woman was a name that I could read. It wasn't the same language in the book, that one was probably reserved for spells, rituals and potions. The name was writen a such :

"Coven founder : Pampil"

A witch of such power would probably have a way of cursing all those despicable nobles. I stood in front of the pentagram, cut my hand, covered it in blood and started chanting. The entire town went silent. It was pretty calm most of the time, but at that moment I couldn't even hear the cold cave wind or the sound of mice running through rubble. My Blood and the potion started to mix in some sort of strange, black goo. The colors I could see started to fade as everything turned gray. The black liquid covered the pentagram while somehow seeping into the hard stone floor. Some sort of strange distant lights started to appear on it. As if it wasn't the ground in front of me but a gate to somewhere else, a distant world bathed in those tiny lights. The lights multiplied and changed color, going from white to deep blue. The world around me started to fade in some kind of black mist. After a few seconds the only thing I could still see was the gate. The lights were now legions of colored sparks that illuminated the whole place. Then I said it one last time, I called that witch once more with even more convicion than before. I screamed her name at the top of my lungs .The ground started shaking, the lights all turned green, red, blue then purple. And from the gate she rose. A beautiful middle aged women with a perfect face and long blond hair. She was wearing some large black robe with openings to show her hips and a large caracteristic witch hat.

I wanted to greet her but nothing would come out of my throat, I looked at my hands, or what they became. It seems the black mist turned me into some sort of small, black, weakened, goey and mute goblin.

So I did the only thing I could, I waited for her to notice me."Mmmh, what a strange feeling", she said while opening her eyes and stretching her arms. "I never new being summoned was such unique exerience, I should have tried sooner. Art thou the one that summoned me ?", my mute self answered by a nod. She looked at me with curiosity."You do realise that you are dying right", I noded again as I felt and knew that my state was due to mana overuse which was lethal to almost all living beings."So I suppose you summoned me because you wanted some of my power or knowledge.", same answer as before."But you can't talk.", again."That's quite the problem. I can always use magic to see your memories. Do you want that ?", my neck was starting to hurt, partly because of the constant nodding, but mostly because i was at death's door. She placed her hand on my head and wispered a few words in a long forgotten tongue. My memories started to flash in my mind, every single one, from my birth to the moment I finished the ritual."I see you want revenge, but there is a little problem with that, there is no reason for me to waste my mana and time cursing a legacy. And looking at you, I don't think you can pay me anything worth the effort."

This has to be a lie. I killed myself for power I couldn't afford. I couldn't even cry or scream at the unfair truth.

"Or so I would have said if i was still alive. You see death isn't that horrible, there is no eternal punishment or endless atonement, even for witches. There is nothing, quite litteraly, meaning i'm bored to death. So I will offer you a deal, you help me get rid of my boredom and I give you what you need. Interested ?", I shoke my head the hardest I could."It's a deal then, I will curse the royal bloodline of the Amerith kingdom, their body will get sick easily, their face will become hideous, half of their children will be stillborns. In exchange I will turn you into a witch's beast, a familiar that can transform into all of the monster that swore allegiance to my brethen, from the stray black cat to the majestic black wyvern. Don't be overjoyed you will start back at level 1 and your options will be limited. Now about your job, I will give you four comands. First, I want you to keep on living as you are my only link to the world of the living. Second, seal the witch's coven once you get out of it , I don't want other lost curse casters desecrating these grounds. Third, level up, I need you to get stronger so you can allow me to see more of the world. Fourth, help any of my brethen you meet, or at least the good ones. Don't worry about recognizing them, they are the only one capable of making a contract with you. Oh and do remember that you are now linked to my power, meaning me and all the other dead witches can see your every actions. Please do give us something interesting to see." She gave me a wave and a big smile before disapearing in the mist that now covered everything.

I was left speechless in that endless space. The mist slowly faded. And I was back to the stone ground in the middle of the town. The pentagram was intact but the liquid covering it was gone. I felt the last remaining energy I had leave my body. And at that exact moment, when I heard the doors of the afterlife slowly open, my senses were suddenly flooded with some unknown power, an ethereal presence that brough me back from the place beyond. I ended up back in the middle of the pentagram, but my eyes were now at ground level, and I couldn't feel my body.

Then the message appeared