《The Witch will take her》 Prologue. The curse it is cast A witch was dying in a torture chamber, in the dungeons of the Tower of the Council of Mages. The room was small, with a low ceiling. In the far corner of the cell door there was a hill of dirty rags. Next to it, there was a charcoal fryer in which torture instruments were rolled. Next to the fryer was a low table with the tools that had been laid out. The witch''s body lay in the center of the cell, on a low, strong wooden table. The arms and legs of the dying woman were still chained to the table. The light of a few lamps was enough to see clearly any change in the face of the one being questioned. The executioners of the empire were masters of their craft. By the intonation of their voices, by the smallest changes in their facial expressions, they were able to recognize lies, and make sure that confessions were true. The door to the cell was open. There were three at the entrance. The girl, as soon as she came in, didn''t feel well. The atmosphere in the room was creepy. Too much agony, moaning, screaming and suffering absorbed the walls of this cell. The stench of excrements, the smell of burnt flesh, and the strange stench of blood spilled on the girl made her ill. She dared not lift her head to see the bloody body in the center of the cell again. The girl put the hood of her cloak over her head, put her face down, and pressed herself against the side of her companion. It was a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing the Emperor''s Guard Armor. When he entered, he took exactly one step forward towards the torture table and froze. No emotion was reflected on his face. He stood a statue, as if he had taken up guard duty on another, familiar duty. An old magician stopped next to him. The gray long-bearded wizard looked at the dying witch with his eyes faded from old age. It was the wizard who called for his servant. The executioner dwarf Dorkin had never been wrong in such matters, and immediately reported to his master that the witch was dying, she would not survive the night. The witch was no longer shouting, arguing, moaning. She didn''t even have the strength left to suffer. The head of the Council of Mages, the venerable Zohran looked sadly at his girlfriend''s tortured body. It wasn''t nice and it didn''t turn out well. The head of the coven of the Night Sisters, a good acquaintance accused her daughter. The daughter accused the mother of performing rituals of human sacrifice. It was a serious accusation. But Zohran knew for sure that his old acquaintance was innocent. She was a good, kind woman, a strict and attentive coven master, responsive to his claims. The magicians did not interfere with the witches'' affairs. Women who had the gift of magic were only engaged in the treatment of other women. Witches were not interested in politics, they never interfered in the affairs of the Empire. Women helped women. And the Night Sisters were respected and appreciated for their work. The old magician found out the reasons for the denunciation and the terrible accusation. The witch had a daughter who wanted to succeed the head of the coven after her mother died. But the mother did not take her as a personal apprentice. She did not give her any secret and basic knowledge about the intricacies of handling women''s affairs. Mia stood by her side. She looked at her mother''s body from under the hood with a smile.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. She was doing great! Today, this ungrateful woman will die. And Mia will get everything: the primacy in the coven and the undivided attention of handsome Meogred. She has moved closer to her lover. Meogred, the Emperor''s Guard Commander, looked calmly at the dying witch. Why is he here? He was indifferent to this woman. And her daughter was already fed up with her excessive passion. He must keep order in the capital. What is he doing in this torture chamber? He has enough of his criminals, ordinary thieves, robbers and contraband men. There''s too much to worry about to allow himself to be wasted. Suddenly, the witch opened her eyes. She felt it was the best time to die. And for revenge. It was the night of the full moon. It was a good night for curses. She closed her eyes. There''s no need to draw these people''s attention to yourself. The body burned with pain. There was no living space on it. Bleeding incisions, burn marks, broken bones, cut skin. The executioner did a good job. The woman did not let herself smile when she felt new pain. This one was special, only women''s known and familiar pain. The witch could feel the blood flowing from her crotch. A small trickle was inconspicuous between the bleeding thighs. Like a snake, she slipped on the surface of a table flooded with old blood. The blood obeyed the will of a witch who was dying but had not lost her strength. The blood drew strange symbols, unknown even to old and wise magicians. It was a heritage of ancient female magic. And the curse was Ancient. Terrible. Creepy. The witch wasn''t smiling. You can''t attract attention! She slightly opened her lips, and began to quietly whisper the Ancient words. Her lips did not move, only her tongue moved, and quiet, inaudible, almost hissing words were born in a world that was not yet aware of future troubles. The witch knew that she would give her life to give full power to the curse. She was ready. And the time had come. Suddenly there was a wild witch''s laughter in the cell. The watchers shuddered with surprise. The laughter sounded disgusting, ugly, creepy. The old magician thought for a moment that his girl friend could be a terrible and vicious creature to his enemies. The body of the dying witch bent and swung over the table. And then it fell. Everyone felt weird. A wave of magical power swirled through the cell room. The lights of the lamps and the fryers were flashing. Dust and dirt, and pieces of flesh on the floor of the cell boldly against the walls, in different directions from the torture table. The magician hadn''t had time to put up protection. Zohran sensed no threat, no degradation. "She died." He understood and added in his thoughts, "Goodbye, old one. I will miss the conversations with you." Suddenly, the magician felt uncomfortable being in the same room as these people. He could still understand the guard, but he didn''t understand the young sister of the Night. He concealed it. "Dorkin! It''s your fault. She died too soon. There is no confession. There''s no explanation. You''ve aged for this service." A bunch of dirty rags in the corner of the cell moved, and it was clear who was lurking in the corner. A dwarf on his knees crawled out of the corner and approached his master. "Master, it''s not my fault. I''m sorry, Master. She wasn''t talking. She was always silent. I don''t know what happened. She shouldn''t have died so early. It''s my fault." "I already said it," the magician frowned and thought. He made a decision and told the servant: "You should rest. Leave the capital. Visit your relatives in the north. I don''t want to see you. You''ve got a month of free time." The dwarf didn''t answer. He threw his head up and bowed in a bow. Now he could be confused again with a bunch of trash on the floor. The old wizard thought the faithful servant should be removed from the capital for a while. This young cunt is ready for evil deeds. What could the old dwarf have heard when he tortured the witch? She knew many secrets. Hah! She could tell about their longtime passion and the nights they spent caressing and stupidity. Zohran turned around and looked at the girl. Mia knew immediately that she didn''t belong here. And she was happy. Her mother was dead. She saw her death and she could leave this filthy place. There''s a lot to do. There are those who won''t accept her wish to be the head of the coven. But now her enemies will be afraid. Many have learned that she was the one who sent her mother to the torture chamber. "Good night, Head Zohran," she nodded at the magician and looked at her lover. "Shall we go?" Meogred stopped thinking about one important thing and agreed with her, "Yes. Let''s go. Head of the council, good night." The guardsman and the girl have left the torture chamber. The old mage did not remain silent for long. He thought that tonight he''d drink that pitcher of wine he was given years ago, a wonderful wine, rare. It''s time he relaxed. It''s a bad excuse. Sometimes you have to let yourself rest, otherwise you can go crazy with all the problems of the Empire. Zohran came out of his cell and went to his chambers. The old dwarf knew what he had to do. He took the body of the deceased off the table and went to a special room. The dwarf put the body on the floor in a hollow and went to the wall. He took a jug with a fire potion of dwarves and began to pour a mixture over the corpse. It was a mixture that the dwarves used in their blacksmiths. It wasn''t suitable for lights, the flames were too hot and dangerous. To burn the corpses, the mixture was perfect for it. The witch''s body was on fire. The dwarf sat in the corner and stroked the pocket with little finger in it. He cut it off when he tortured the living witch. Everyone knows it''s gonna be a strong amulet. A witch''s dried finger brings good luck. Dorkin was not offended by the master''s words. He did a good job. He''ll rest well now. In the far north, amongst the snows and mountains, he is not welcome. He doesn''t give a damn! He''ll find entertainment for himself. He''s got enough gold. Faithful friend, his axe hasn''t tasted the blood of robbers and other scoundrels in a long time. Dorkin smiled and watched the flames. Soon he would gather the ashes in a pitcher and bury them in the dungeon wall. And then he is free! A whole month of freedom. A month of tavern fights, a month of whores nights, a month of drunkenness with worthy new friends. The dwarf was smiling. *** Three days later, all the men in the capital began to change. Men were turning into women. Hair of beards and mustaches disappeared. The breasts changed. Muscles of arms, legs, asses changed. But the most terrible and nasty thing happened between men''s legs! When your penis shrinks and turns into a small, miserable pimple the size of a fingernail... Chaos has begun in the capital of the empire. Chapter 1. They are a-changin The gods have always loved the port of Errad. The gods love the victors. In ancient times, the ancient Giftos Empire collapsed. Troops from the east captured the wealthiest prey after plundering the ancient capital. The ancient port became the new capital of the East, the capital of a new empire, the Empire of Sunrise. Terrible changes at the beginning of the year plunged the houses and streets of the capital into chaos for several days. Men turned into women. Young men turned into young girls, old men into old women, and boys into girls. Some could not bear such mockery and punishment. They threw themselves into the sea from the rocks east of the capital. Most had accepted. Most of them were helped by their mothers, wives, girlfriends. The most horrible was the realization that the people who had changed had no erotic desires. The new women did not care about affections, they looked indifferently at the female beauty and attention of former girlfriends, wives and sweethearts. Life does not stand still. The gods love Errad. And Mena, the eternal patroness of women, who watched the excitement at night with her silver eye. And Erra, God of the Sun, Giving Life, the Provider, Protector of Warriors. The capital was alive in a new life, reconciled to change. Three old roads lead to Errad. But which side of the road doesn''t get close to the capital, the first one that attracts the eye is the view of the White Palace. The Palace of the Emperors towered over the port. The building inspired the residents with a sense of pride, peace, confidence in their abilities, faith in a secure future. Under the first rays of the rising sun the white stone of the walls of the ancient castle was poured with shades of pink. With every hour of the new day, the walls of the palace became lighter. At noon, it pleased the eye with the pure white walls and towers. Today, at noon, the Emperor''s advisors arrived at the palace. All gathered in the council chamber. The walls of the large hall were decorated with banners of former enemies, the most worthy trophies and paintings depicting the glorious events of the Empire of Sunrise. In the center of the hall there was a round table. At the table sat the Empress and her advisers. The Emperor Aresan lived a long life. He was 52 years old. He enjoyed the company of his beloved wife and the education of his heir. He did not interfere much in the affairs of the advisors. Sometimes the emperor showed interest in politics and took part in solving particularly important problems and conflicts. A strange incident did not change his character. He remembered with a smile the perplexing cry of his wife, which she met the changes in his body, "Well, who is the Empress here now?" The change of name, the bad mood of the heir... the heiress didn''t upset him. Even his lack of attraction to women did not confuse him. He had had enough of the stormy nights. His wife was more upset. But Brigita soon calmed down. Aresanna was amused by the admiration her wife had for the new appearance of the Emperor. He was a handsome man, and turned into a very beautiful woman. The heavenly color of his eyes, which faded slightly with age, once again flashed clear blue. The dark brown hairs that had become rare had changed, they had become the same, thick, disobedient, blond and... fluffy. And the fact that the beard and mustache are gone is nothing and nonsense! Brigita, with a smile, took up the task of bringing her new appearance. She tortured him all day. What a hard thing to do! To bring beauty, it''s not easy and sometimes quite unpleasant procedure. For the first time, he suffered for the rest of his life. It''s good to be an empress! The wife''s mistresses delightedly took on new responsibilities. The wife recently said in bed: "You''re terribly beautiful. Especially the eyes are frightening. It''s like you can see right through me. And your eyes are so kind and kind. I''m sorry, but I want to kiss you and love you like I used to. Even if you don''t feel anything for me. It doesn''t hurt me, Aresanna. I know you love me." The Empress Aresanna looked at the advisers with a smile. The women were dressed in men''s clothes. Not many started wearing dresses. But it gave rise to new fashion in the capital. The tailors of the Masters'' houses sewed the old camisole, shirts and pants. The gunsmiths were doing leather and steel armor. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. "I hate boobs!" It was the most common sentence of the new residents of the capital these days. The masters of the Trade House were happy, they had new perspectives, new profits. Life wasn''t so bad. Ordinary citizens of the capital did not know how bad life could become. *** The Empress gathered the Council every day. Today, she knew that the question would arise of an upcoming war. Not all the barons of the Empire have remained faithful to the ancient Oath. The time of blood was approaching. The Empress began the council with a quiet, firm and calm voice. "I think you''ve already agreed on a turn of reports. Let us first discuss the most unpleasant question. What have we got there?" Garna Bloody, former Garn Bloody, head of the House of War, jumped out of her chair. He could never sit tight when things seemed too bad and dangerous for the empire. "Aresan! We''re in total shit! They''re threatening us with war! These vile traitors have lost honor and fear! We''re not ready. We''re in deep shit! I''m not used to new armor myself yet. We had to change our weapons. Scouts and archers are almost all right. It''s hard for knights and spear fighters. We just don''t have new weapons. Old spears and armor are too heavy for these women!" For all the trouble of the news, Garn, as always, sparkled with a brilliant cheerful smile. It was as if he had always been happy about the troubles and joys of life. He was happy to meet a new dangerous opponent on the battlefield. "Nonsense. They can threaten us all they want. They can''t endanger the capital," said Lad Gurry, head of the House of Masters. He was responsible for all the Craftsmen''s Guild. "We already know for a fact that on five days from the capital the land is cursed," said the head of Ghosts, spies and diplomats, Ronna Fang. His voice has always been cold in tone, quiet, and it made him listen carefully to the words of an experienced green-eyed assassin. "Even the light horsemen won''t make it. In three days on the road, everyone will be like us. Everyone will turn into women. They won''t dare," he reassured the advisers. "Fang! Don''t make a fool of myself! The capital is not threatened by anything. That''s clear. But they threaten for our new cities! How will I defend the three directions? I repeat, we will be able to successfully keep our defenses on two fronts. There is no force to defend all three new cities." Garna stopped screaming and running around the hall around the table and sat down in her chair. The Empress looked at the head of the council of magicians, "Zohran, we''ve spent the gold of the treasury. What do you have to say?" "Nothing new, Your Majesty. Life has changed. We have changed. We''re facing death. No men, no children. If we don''t defend the city in a safe area, we will die." A gray old woman looked at everyone with the calm look of the tired grey eyes. Everyone was quiet. They''ve already discussed this terrible truth. No men, no children. No children, no future. The heavy silence of the council was broken by a redheaded brown-eyed woman, head of the Trade House, Sola Randon. "The capital needs these cities. The capital has enough neighboring areas for a successful farm. We can provide food for ourselves. Our ships have already sailed. Our plan is well planned. Whorehouses are no longer needed in the capital. All women who are ready to have a child can meet their future father outside the danger zone. The sisters of the night are ready to cook a special potion that guarantees pregnancy. Bloody, old ass in armor, you''ll die there, but we must protect our new cities. I will wear my own armor and go to war." "Not to my camp, you old drunkard! Otherwise, it''s not war again, but drinking," Garna the Bloody laughed. But the Empress wasn''t laughing. "Master Fang. We want to hear the news," said Aresanna quietly. "Your Majesty, all is calm. In the west, our decision affected the lands of Arvid Barr. The Wolf is loyal to the Empire. The foundation of a new city, a new trade center, new perspectives, new profits. In light of the future, Baron Arvid Barr remains your loyal vassal." "The old wolf will never betray," Garna Bloody laughed loudly. "He has too many enemies in the west. Damn Sarda! I can''t wait to fight these pushers!" Master Fang pinched her eyes and looked at the head of the War House. It was enough for the warrior to stop planning new battles with the eternal enemy of the Empire. The head of the Ghost House continued her report: "The oldest road leads northwest to the ruins of An Zarra. Baron Arthur Goran of the Family of Rose agrees with the new orders of the Empire. He has not abandoned his hope of receiving special grace from Your Majesty." The Empress said, "This is no time to think about the weddings of our children. What is it with the north direction, Ronna?" "Grim Hawk is a lucky man. He was going north from his estate. Trouble hasn''t touched him. He needs a new castle, he''s a loyal vassal of the empire." "Is the Rough Grim still alive? I''d love to see an old friend!" Aresanna smiled and nodded at the master spy, waiting for the report to continue. "The situation in the north is most alarming. In the west, the empire has always had an old, formidable enemy, Sarda. In the northeast, the empire borders the wastelands of the Ancients. It''s peaceful there. In the north, strong family leader Tran led the former vassals. "We swore an oath to the Emperor. No emperor, no oath!" That''s their credo, the basis of their rebellion." "Filthy pirate! Tran, leader of the Shark Clan. A rotten soul in the body of a dishonest rapist! I must go with the armies against him. There will be the hottest battle there!" Garna Bloody screamed, jumped up and squeezed her fists. "The basis of their rebellion is the wealth they''ve gained in a vicious way. We shouldn''t have pinned those baron pirates down. They have always disgraced the empire. Now they are threatening our existence." The head of the House of Commerce, Sola Randon, pointed to Garna Bloody, "I will go to war with you. I''m talking serious." "So we have two areas of alarm. And there''s enough military force to fight back an attack. Your Majesty, I ask that you allow me and a select group of Guards to participate in the battles," said Meogred, head of the Guard. His words were clear and severe. He has not changed. He was cold as steel and remained simple and sharp in character. "It will be right," agreed Aresanna. "The time has come for great battles. It''s time to fight for our future. Gather a force, Meogred." The Empress and her advisers shortly discussed plans for the future war. Garna Bloody admitted she was not yet ready to give a full account of the state of the Empire''s armies. The new warriors were trained every day. Everyone got used to the new bodies, re-tested the old skills and abilities. When the council finished the meeting, the head of the House of Ghosts asked the Empress to listen to one important news. "Your Majesty, you have to influence on your daughter. She is looking for death. She was unable to accept her new nature in peace. My ghosts can''t get her out of dangerous fights in time. Bran is killing muggers and criminals. The old scum is still the old scum. Criminals have never fought fair. Their strength has remained the same, they don''t wear heavy armor, they go around in chains and leather. Short swords, daggers and crossbows are their weapons. They are dangerous. I''m afraid not to follow the heir." The Empress has sighed. "It is difficult for Bran. He''s very young. I understand him. He refuses to go out with old friends. I hardly see him. Brigita is worried. I''ll talk to my son... to my daughter." "Invite her to intensify her training. She can be sent up north. It will be quiet there." The Empress did not understand and asked: "North? To the barony of Goran? Who always dreamed of having his son''s wedding in the best interest? When I think about it, it''s disgusting in my head." "Your Majesty, this is a dangerous and terrible question. There will be no children in this marriage. Bran was a man." "That''s the point! Brigita and I were already thinking about the problem. Perhaps we will adopt a girl. A normal girl. The war will spawn new orphans. We''ll be able to find a decent sister for Bran. And then it will make sense to think about getting married." "A strong decision, Your Majesty," agreed Ronna Fang. "Think with the consort empress about Bran''s participation in the war." "It won''t be dangerous in the north. But the heir himself could do something crazy. Baron Goran will not be happy. We''ll think about it," the Empress said, and made it clear that the discussion of the unpleasant subject is over. The master of the Ghost House bowed and went out. The Empress sat down in her chair. The children. Poor boys and young men. Their fate has changed too dramatically. The changes shocked and darkened their present. We need to talk to Bran. Seriously talk to Bran. It becomes a question of the boy''s life and death. Girl! He''s a girl now. Goddamn it!