In the sleepy village of Emberwood, Morgana was not your typical witch. Sure, she brewed potions and cursed the occasional tax collector, but her heart was hopelessly ensnared by Edgar, a bumbling poet who could rhyme “love” with “dove” but not much else. Fate, being the drama queen it is, decided Edgar would slip into the afterlife after choking on a particularly dry scone. Devastated but determined, Morgana grabbed her spellbook, rallied her coven, and declared, “We’re bringing him back. I won’t let bad pastry be the end of our love story!”
Her three best friends—Sybill, the sarcastic herbologist; Felicity, the overly dramatic clairvoyant; and Agatha, who just liked setting things on fire—quickly joined her. They concocted a portal spell, involving precisely 17 toadstools, a gallon of moonlight, and an embarrassing amount of glitter. “Why glitter?” Morgana had asked. “Because the afterlife deserves fabulousness,” Agatha replied, dumping the entire jar in. With a swirl of sparkles and a smell suspiciously like burnt toast, the portal opened, and they leaped into the unknown.
The afterlife, it turned out, wasn’t as grim as they’d expected. Instead of fiery pits or ethereal clouds, it looked like a bureaucratic office—complete with overworked spirits typing endlessly. Edgar, as luck would have it, was stuck in “Poet’s Purgatory,” forced to rewrite his worst poems until they rhymed properly. “Morgana!” he cried when he saw her, his inky hands reaching out. “I can’t take another stanza about roses and noses!”
The rescue mission quickly devolved into chaos. Felicity accidentally summoned a horde of rhyming banshees, Sybill tried bribing a spectral guard with herbal tea, and Agatha got carried away setting ghostly cubicles on fire. Morgana, however, kept her cool. She stormed the Purgatory supervisor’s desk, waved her wand, and yelled, “He’s coming with me, or I hex your filing system into oblivion!” That did the trick. Bureaucrats hate messy paperwork, even in death.
With Edgar in tow, the witches made their grand escape, glitter still trailing behind them. Back in Emberwood, Edgar swore off poetry forever, opting to write cookbooks instead. Morgana learned that love sometimes requires storming the afterlife—and that glitter, surprisingly, is the secret ingredient to magical success.
