Dark Witches of Ebonveil Face Hilarious Disaster in the Dark Forest! | The Immortal Gazette
The Immortal Gazette studio was alive with the usual energy. Alice, ever the picture of dark elegance, swirled her tea, the steam rising in intricate spirals. Loki leaned back in his seat, looking half-amused, while Rumple, always the perfectionist, was glaring at a half-crumbled pastry as if it had personally offended him.
“So,” Alice said, clearly enjoying the chaos of the moment, “we did get word from the Dark Witches of Ebonveil. They had a little ‘incident’—a disaster, really.” She raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her tea, her eyes gleaming with intrigue.
Loki, now grinning, leaned forward. “Oh, this should be good.”
Rumple groaned, clearly knowing what was coming. “Don’t tell me it involves more of their... disastrous attempts at summoning something they shouldn’t.”
Alice’s laugh was sharp and wicked. “Bingo. This time, however, they didn’t summon an ancient dark spirit. No, no. They went for something simpler—but apparently, simpler isn’t always better.”
Loki leaned in, now thoroughly entertained. “So, what did they summon this time? A cat? A raven? Perhaps a frog with an attitude?”
“Oh, they summoned something alright,” Alice said, eyes twinkling with amusement. “But it wasn’t a frog.” She paused, savoring the dramatic flair of the moment. “It was a cursed tree that, well, didn’t appreciate being summoned.”
Loki chuckled. “That’s one way to go about it. A highly emotional tree.”
Rumple sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead. “You’re telling me they summoned a tree? A tree?”
Alice nodded. “Yes, and not just any tree—oh no. A tree that grew arms and legs. Naturally, it went on a rampage.”
Loki snickered. “A rampaging, disgruntled tree. I’ve got to admit, that’s a first.”
“Well, the Dark Witches of Ebonveil weren’t expecting a full-on tantrum,” Alice said, eyes sparkling with malice. “They thought they were simply summoning a small, ominous shrub for their ritual. But instead, they got a full-blown wailing willow—and it was not happy to be yanked from its peaceful corner of the forest.”
Rumple buried his face in his hands. “Not happy? Alice, this thing went on a rampage through the Dark Forest. One of them nearly got squashed by its branches.”
Alice stifled a giggle. “Not to mention the swarm of cursed acorns it started throwing. It was like an enchanted game of dodgeball—but, you know, with death.”
Loki raised an eyebrow. “A swarm of acorns, huh? Well, that’s one way to make an entrance.”
“It wasn’t an entrance, Loki. It was an absolute disaster,” Rumple snapped, clearly frustrated. “They had no control over this cursed tree.”
Alice’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Ah, but that’s the thing about the Dark Witches of Ebonveil. They never have full control over their chaos, and that’s what makes it so much fun to watch. They thought they could contain it, but instead, they got a walking, wailing disaster that terrorized their own training grounds.”
Loki leaned back in his chair, grinning. “I do love watching the Dark Witches get caught up in their own messes. It’s poetic, really.”
“Poetic?” Rumple muttered under his breath. “I’ll tell you what’s poetic—watching them try to undo the curse they accidentally set on themselves after the tree started growing in reverse.”
“Wait, what?” Alice asked, leaning forward in her seat. “It grew backwards?”
“Oh, yes. It started shrinking instead of growing. And they couldn’t stop it. The tree was becoming smaller and more vicious with every second,” Rumple explained, his voice tinged with disbelief. “It was like trying to control a feral bonsai tree on a rampage.”
Alice threw her head back and laughed. “A bonsai tree on a rampage? Now that’s a mental image.”
Loki smiled in amusement. “Well, they certainly learned a lesson today. Don’t mess with trees unless you’re absolutely certain they’re not cursed, or in this case, emotionally unstable.”
“Exactly,” Alice agreed, swirling her tea again. “But I’m not sure the Dark Witches will learn anything from it. Chaos is their middle name.”
Rumple shook his head in exasperation. “Maybe next time they’ll stick to basic rituals and *not summon anything that could potentially flatten their entire training grounds.”
Alice smirked. “You’ve got to admit, Rumple, this is the kind of chaos we live for.”
“And you are the reason it keeps happening,” Rumple muttered, giving Alice an accusing look.
Alice only smiled wider, utterly unfazed. “I call it creative encouragement.”
As the Immortal Gazette studio dissolved into laughter, one thing was certain: chaos had found its home in the Dark Forest of Ebonveil, and the Dark Witches were just the beginning of the disasters to come.
🖋️✨📜🖤
