Accepting Fate.

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Author's Note. Hey, another chapter. I had a lot of fun writing this one. Hopefully, you find it entertaining as well.

Please. Remember to vote on chapters if you like my story, as it tells other readers of its quality and helps more people see my work. Thank you kindly.

Cover image commissioned and drawn by NamelessHiredArtist. https://www.deviantart.com/namelesshiredartist

Please go and view their art and commission them. They have incredible talent, and I was lucky to have them draw anything for me.

Fanart image at the top is a reader interpretation of the Witch of the Wood.  Dawn by reader Finch.  Please check out their page, as you please.  https://kazukijamesfinch.tumblr.com

Any other fanart I receive might find its way to other chapters for their scenes.


Marco limped quickly as the old man swung the door behind himself. He placed his hand out when the door was to slam shut, and it landed against his palm.

"You can't leave us! You have to listen to what I have to say! Please!" Marco shouted.

The man glanced back and then turned his body halfway so that he could respond.

"Begone Curseling, I can smell the stink of her off you, and have no desire to deal with your kind." The man said, his voice filled with anger.

"Curseling? I-I don't understand. Please, I came all the way down here to get your help." Marco continued to plead.

The old man turned his body entirely around, and he continued to glare at him. "There's no helping you, boy... You will wither, and you will die. There is no changing this course of events."

"I... I... I just want your help! I struggle to remember things I feel that are true!" Marco again yelled and made a step forward on his hurt leg.

"Who are you, and why aught I give a damn? I've told you everything you need to know. So begone." The man stated bluntly.

"Hey!" Tom yelled angrily taking a step forward as well. "We traveled all the way through this miserable place to find you! You could have some common courtesy and at least listen to what we have to say!"

The old man eyed Tom and once again raised his left hand to place it on the hilt of his sheathed blade. "Shut your mouth demon, lest I detach your head from your shoulders."

Tom hesitated a bit but held his ground. "I'm not afraid of you, just let us talk, and we'll leave if we have to."

The knight raised an eyebrow, then shook his head. "Is this the fate of Mewni? Companionship with demon scum? I'd thought my homeland would have more pride than that."

Tom was taken aback by his straightforward attitude and merely lowered his head.

"Tom is my friend! And he's a good guy, demon or no!" Marco came to Tom's defense.

The old man seemed unimpressed and didn't bother to respond to Marco's words. He just looked at the two from the doorway, as if waiting for them to say something meaningful.

"Look, my name is Marco Diaz. Please... Something bizarre is going on. I don't remember why, but for some reason, my memory keeps failing me. I'm almost positive I lost somebody close to me, but I can't remember who it is. Now I believe all my friends are acting weird, I really do." Marco earnestly explained as best as he could in his current condition.

There was a silence, and eventually, the old man let his left-hand slide off the hilt so that it rested at his side. He simply studied the two while contemplating the things he had been told.

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