The Devil's Cursed Witch novel Chapter 396

On this particular day, the morning was unusually bright, the blue sky almost cloudless, as if to declare the weather would be bright and sunny all day long.

The warm summer-like atmosphere would normally cause naughty children to run about in laughter and sneak out to play outdoors, but none of the young ones within Agartha dared make a noise on this day.

Regardless if they were elves, fairies, witches, shapeshifters, or the other hidden races, all their villages and cities had a rare solemn mood that day.

The day of mourning, the most important day for the Kingdom of Agartha.

It was not a celebration, but an annual commemoration of the dead.

One would think it strange, why these long-lived races who treated years as shortly as weeks would commemorate their loved one's death anniversary, but that only proved how devastating that massacre one hundred years ago was to the living residents of Agartha.

For many of them, the painful memories of that day were as fresh as if it only happened yesterday.

A nightmare they wanted to wake up from.

In order to deal with their grief, the council designated a day of mourning to honor the sacrificed lives of that war. The beings born after the war were taught to show respect to the dead, and this day which marked the end of that war was set aside for the entire kingdom to rest.

Some people believed the souls of the deceased continued to roam around the kingdom to seek for their families and loved ones.

A tradition was then formed that those who survived would pray to nature for the peace of their souls. They would visit and offer prayers on the mass graves northeast of the kingdom, the last battlefield of that war, the Netherfields.

Even though the kingdom was relatively quiet, each and every family's preparations had started from dawn.

The younger generation of the beast clans were assigned at the border of the human territory. Security was tightened since the day before as there were chances that humans would create trouble to affect the peace and order on the day of mourning.

It didn't use to be that way, but ever since the Chief of the human villages changed, the day also marked the rivalry between human beings and supernatural beings.

As soon as the sun rose, countless supernatural beings had left their homes, from young to old, male and female, all of them headed northeast of the kingdom.

Even the clans who had cut ties with the outside world, who had decided to live in seclusion after that massacre a century back, would step back into the open and visit the mass grave.

It was a time for the retired war veterans to interact with the younger generation, for the elders to interact with the rest of their clans, for the survivors to reminisce the memories of those who they had lost.

Draven, being the symbolic king and protector of Agartha, had to be present at the Netherfields as well.

The young Erlos meticulously prepared the clothes for Draven to wear on this day.

"Black as usual," Erlos pulled out the black shirt and black coat for Draven.

Every year, Draven would always wear a pure black attire on the day of mourning. It was something so fixed, even Erlos' earliest memories of this day involved the King of Agartha being in all black.

The dark clothes seemingly represented the darkness that was brought to this kingdom. As if this was Draven's attempt to hide the pain of that memory.

Meanwhile, Erlos was clad in a simple white garb, a ceremonial robe used by the High Elves in the past during important events. Now, there was only Erlos to wear it.

The day of mourning was an emotional day for Erlos as well. Not only did he lose his parents during that war, as the entire clan of High Elves had perished.

In fact, where the Netherfields currently stand used to be the main city of the High Elves. All the residents of that city were massacred, and even the reinforcements of the other clans and races who came after died.

The final battlefield where the lands were colored red with all the blood spilled.

Every year, since Erlos started to live with Draven, he would visit the Netherfields with Draven. He had no family or clan members to go with—for him, Draven was his only family.

As a kid, he used to cry whenever they visited the grave of his parents. Draven would accompany him in silence, but as years passed by, Erlos had learned to stop crying and started to accept his new reality. That he was alone.

Erlos helped the freshly bathed Draven wear his clothes.

"Are we really not taking Miss with us, Sire?" Erlos asked.

"No. She will stay in the palace," Draven replied. "Don't worry, the security around the palace has been reinforced. Morpheus and Logan worked together, and I know their arrangements would ensure her safety."

"I am not worried about the security as no one would dare harm the King's mate. I was just feeling bad about leaving her behind. Your aides and the palace servants are all going.

"Besides, I think it is best that the Miss accompany us. The day of mourning happens every year. The earlier she sees how we spend this important day, the better. She will also get to witness the rare moment when the various clans and races of Agartha are united, gathered at the same place."

"Among those clans and races, many of their loved ones died in the hands of human black magic practitioners. They would not accept a human's presence on this special day. They might try to hurt her, not through weapons but with words," Draven replied.