The Harbinger

Chapter Six: A Witches' Farewell

The journey back to Morgana's home was a sombre one, the weight of their fallen comrade heavy upon their hearts. They moved in silence, the ruins of Lysandra a fading memory behind them. Each step seemed to echo with the memory of their fallen friend, a constant reminder of the price of their victory.

As they ascended the winding path that led to the mountains surrounding the Queendom ruins of Eldermoor, the air grew colder, the sky darkening with each passing hour. The once-vibrant tapestry of the world seemed muted, as if paying tribute to the fallen witch, lover, queen and friend.

Finally, they reached the crest of the mountain, and there, nestled amidst the craggy peaks, stood the old, worn witches' hut. Its timbers creaked with age, its thatched roof weathered by the passage of time. It was a place that spoke of solitude and mystery, a sanctuary for a witch banished from her homeland.

Thomas, carrying Morgana's remains with a solemn reverence, stepped forward. The weight of the moment hung heavily upon him. He knew that Morgana deserved a proper farewell, a resting place befitting her legacy.

Arwen and Agatha, flanking Thomas, stood in silent support. They understood the importance of this moment, not just for Thomas, but for all of them. Morgana had been a part of their journey, her presence a guiding force in the face of darkness.

Together, they laid Morgana to rest, the earth accepting her form with a quiet grace. Thomas whispered a prayer, a final farewell to their fallen lover, his voice a tremor in the stillness.

As the first light of dawn began to break over the horizon, painting the mountains in shades of gold and pink, the trio stood in silent vigil. They knew that this was not just an end, but a beginning—a tribute to a life lived in the pursuit of truth and the battle against the encroaching darkness.

With heavy hearts, they turned away from the old hut, the memory of their fallen comrade forever etched into their souls. They descended the mountain in a solemn procession, the weight of their loss tempered by the knowledge that they had honoured Morgana's legacy.

In the heart of the mountains, amidst the ruins of an old witches' hut, three souls stood united in their grief and their determination to carry on. They knew that their journey was not over, that new challenges would arise, but they would face them with the strength forged in the crucible of their shared purpose.

And as they walked away from the mountains, the memory of Morgana lingered, a beacon of light in the face of the encroaching shadows. They would carry her legacy with them, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was always the possibility of finding light.

End of Part Five.