"Mistress," the fortuneteller repeated as she stood up on the ground and Seoyeon watched her left toward the left corner of the room. Bending down, she lifted the old carpet that covered a square part of the corner. The dust that snowed on top of the duvet then danced on the air with her movement.
"I remember the eldest dark witches also called themselves as Mistress. They want to be one who stood above others, the head figure which why they chose the title but... they have died. I remember before my death a fragment of memories where I saw the lair of the dark witches was flattened to the ground."
"But is it not possible that she is still alive, like you?" Seoyeon gave the question and the fortuneteller didn't immediately brush off the guess. Rather, she kept a silence, her brows drawn.
