Agonventis

The Wielder needed one last ingredient for her potion. A decade ago, when the Cradle’s Plague had swept the kingdom, it had been so common, she could scrape it off nearly any wind. She knew it was often found around battlefields, but the kingdom wasn’t currently at war.

She had sent her crow to scout. She heard the flap of its black wings returning. It had found something. She leapt onto her horse and followed the crow through the woods.

It led her to where a woman was crying over the body of a stag, an arrow pierced in its side. The Wielder recognized the stag.

A wealthy Duchess had bought a curse from her just days before. Seeking her revenge on a man who she said had slighted her, the Duchess had sought to turn him into an animal.

The Wielder recognized the woman too. She had met her when she delivered the Duchess’ curse. She was the man’s wife.

The Wielder watched the stag draw his last breath then go still, his dead body transforming back into the man he had been.

The Wielder then heard what she was waiting for… the reason she was there…

An agonventis pierced the air as it tore out of the distraught woman’s lungs.

An agonventis isn’t something a normal person can bottle, but the Wielder wasn’t a normal person. She was a Dark Sorceress and an agonventis was the last ingredient she needed to wield her next curse.