Evanthe, along with Sierra, appeared at the witch clan, at the residence of the head of the witches, Cornelia Grim.
Talia guided them inside the residence and brought them to Cornelia's room where she was resting, seemingly unconscious as she had exhausted a major part of her energy to review Morpheus' soul. Evanthe sat at the edge of the bed and held Cornelia's wrist to check her condition.
"She looks weak; it might take days for her body to recover," Sierra said as she simply observed Cornelia's appearance.
Evanthe let go of Cornelia's wrist and nodded in agreement with Sierra. She then passed her divine power to Cornelia to aid in her healing and turned to Silvia and Cornelia, "Make sure to give her vitality potions frequently for a few days and let me know once she is awake."
"Yes, Your Eminence."
Evanthe stood up and informed them, "I am heading to the Spirit Circle."
"Your Eminence, the entire clan is waiting to meet you," Silvia informed.
"Now is not the time. I have to take care of some other important matters. You can ask them to be patient," Evanthe instructed.
"Yes, Your Eminence."
Along with Sierra, Evanthe disappeared from Cornelia's residence and appeared in front of a wooden cottage located in the most isolated part of the coven's territory. Evanthe lifted the bronze door knocker, shaped like a moon, to announce their arrival. The sound of metal striking echoed gloomily in the silent surroundings.
The gate opened on its own, and Evanthe walked inside with Sierra following her. The door of the residence swung open as well, allowing them entry into the drawing room where three witches sat on the couch, waiting for them.
Upon entering, they saw three witches—Glinda, Maria, and Thala—sitting on a wooden couch.
"I see you three are still holding onto your dear life quite well," Evanthe commented as she approached them.
"How could we bear to die before seeing you?" Glinda retorted.
"I wonder if you are here as our Queen or simply as our friend," Maria added.
"That depends on how you treat me," Evanthe replied as she settled comfortably in her chair, asserting her authority over the place. "Seeing that you didn't greet me as your Queen, it seems you are in the mood to reminisce about our days as friends."
"Alright, calm down now," Glinda, the most sensible one, tried to mediate. "Evanthe, it's good to see you back. Have you visited Morpheus?"
"I did," Evanthe replied and turned to Thala, who fell silent at the mention of Morpheus. "I will try everything in my power to wake him up as soon as possible," Evanthe assured.
Thala looked at her, "You can blame me all you want, but make sure to bring him back." The guilt of what happened to Morpheus still weighed heavily on Thala.
"I will. At least before you die, I will let you have hearty conversation with that eagle," Evanthe replied.
"That's not bad either," Thala commented, "As long as he comes back."
"What's your plan going forward?" Glinda asked. "Are you back for good?"
"Not really, but I will take care of important matters before I even think about leaving," Evanthe replied. They chatted for a while, during which Evanthe received updates on the Witch clan from Glinda and prepared to leave after visiting her old friends.
Evanthe stood up and approached Thala, a small vial appearing in her palm.
Thala frowned, "I don't need any potion."
"It's my latest creation, and you are the first to receive it. How fortunate are you, isn't it?" Evanthe said further, "It takes months to make one of these. Think carefully before you reject it. Morpheus might take longer to wake than your remaining days."
Hearing this, Thala frowned but accepted the vial, only to hear Evanthe add, "In a few days, the next ones will be ready. I'll bring that to you."
"Do whatever," Thala didn't look at her, "Now get lost and focus on what you came here for."
"Of course, not like I am dying to see your old wrinkly face. But rest assured, I won't let you die unless you get to see Morpheus alive and soaring," Evanthe responded, and then she left the spirit circle.
"Why did you infuriate them with your words?" Sierra couldn't help but ask.
"If I had spoken normally, it would have been perceived as sympathy and pity, and we would have been kicked out the moment we entered," Evanthe explained. "Those sulking witches always need someone to mock them and argue with them. It makes them feel connected to us and keeps their fighting spirit alive. Pity is the last thing they want, especially Thala. She despises it."
"I understand," Sierra said thoughtfully, "They must have once been proud witches but are now left only with their past glory."