Mage's Curse

The funneral

Pretend that 5 year time skip didn't exist! Want supposed to be there!

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Seto glances at the letter one more time. Mrs. Ezell is dead, so are his parents, and no one here likes him much. He has never felt more alone.z

He puts the note down and grabs his book and quill.

-I have never felt more alone,- is all he writes.

He gets into his bunk, and retires for the night.

He wakes up. He pulls on some black pants and shirt for the funeral. It's the best he can do.

He walks down stairs, his head down and mouth in a deep frown. Besides from all this, he can feel himself changing. This loneliness has caused him to begin to lose that will to learn to make potions and sort of a darker feeling. He doesn't care about FailSing. He doesn't care about the people that simply pretend he doesn't exist. But he does care. He cares. But it almost feels like he is transforming into something. Something darker and more powerful. Something is going to happen. Soon.

(In another kingdom)

A girl in a long blue steampunk coat with gold trim, gold goggles on top if her head, and rainbow hair sits at a small wooden desk in a dark bedroom, lit with redstone torches. She moves a quill across a piece of paper, drawing what seems to be girl wearing a long black cloak with a hidden face.

She finishes the sketchy picture and places her hand on it.

"Orf Nlrusn, meoc ot flei," she whispers to the paper.

It glows a navy blue and the ink strokes peal off the paper and expand to be the size of a tall person.

The sketchy woman bows her head.

The steampunk girl firmly says, "You know your orders."

She nods and leaves the room.

Another girl enters. She wears a black dress webbed in gold, tall boots with spell pages sticking out, blue angled hair with pointed bands trimmed with metallic gold, her face hidden by a metallic gold cloak pinned with a silver moon.

"Ah, creating again."

She smiles. "I only live to create."

"And I only like to please."