Thanks to the crystals, Nandi stabilized his body and quickly repaired his weapon.

'Follow me, dammit. I don't want to be trapped in here forever.' He thought.

With no other choice left and with Phloria's condition getting worse, the Ernas followed the Minotaur through a short maze comprised of crystal veins of growing purity. Soon they were surrounded solely by violet and white gemstones.

In the middle of such a treasure that would have made any mage go mad with greed, there was what looked like a hunting cabin. The small wooden house had a pitched roof, only one door, and one window on each side.

A clothesline filled with small clothes of different sizes was located in front of the hut, giving the impression that a large family had somehow found their way there.

Quylla and Phloria recognized the oppressive aura surrounding the place as that they had perceived all the way up to the surface, yet now it seemed to be no longer hostile to them.

Phloria suddenly felt much better. The pain stopped haunting her, her face regained its color, and she was now able to walk without help.

"What's happening to me?" She was half relieved and half scared witless.

"Come on in." After opening the door, Nandi had to stoop to enter.

Phloria and the others quickly followed him, discovering that what was waiting for them was even more amazing than the crystal veins.

"Oh gods, it's bigger on the inside!" Quylla blurted out noticing how spacious the room was.

The living room they had entered was over ten meters (30 feet) long and fifteen meters (45 feet) wide. There was a huge cauldron over the fireplace, filled with some unknown bubbling food that smelled delicious.

A huge rectangular wooden table, longer than the one they dined at during social events held at the Ernas household, had been set with enough plates and cutlery to feed a small battalion.

On top of that, even though the living room itself was bigger than what the hut looked from the outside, there were several doors and corridors leading to other rooms that seemed to be even bigger.

The most astonishing thing, however, was the vision of an old lady, sitting on a simple wooden chair while surrounded by over twenty children. She was reading from a book while they jotted down her every word to learn how to write.

The old lady had grey hair and expressive black eyes. Her nose and ears were long, her face full of wrinkles. Age spots covered her skin, making her look weak, but her voice was melodious and kind.

The children were a melting pot of all ages ad races. Some were barely four years old while others were nearly ten. All of them were hybrids. A girl had silver hair and the red light of undeath shining in her eyes.

A boy who was barely older than Aran had webbed hands, scales of his cheeks, and gills kept appearing and disappearing on his neck. Some had fur instead of hair on their head, others had leaves and an odd colored skin.

Even Morok was so flabbergasted that no odd remark found its way out of his mouth.

"You're late, Nandi. The kids finished their spelling test for a while and had to take an extra lesson while waiting for you." Baba Yaga, the first Awakened to have ever achieved the white core of immortality, closed the book, but the children kept writing.

"You know about my condition. I couldn't risk killing your guests in case I lost control of a spell or in a fit of madness." He replied.

"What's madness and how do you spell it?" A beautiful black-haired boy asked.

No one would have thought he was a hybrid if not for his right hand having no flesh nor blood, yet still capable to move normally.

"I'll tell you when you grow up. Dictate is over. Go wash your hands and faces. Dinner is almost ready." Baba Yaga stood up and the class quickly dispersed after collecting their things.

The moment the last child left the living room, all the doors closed on their own, sealing the room.

"Teach to the children the wrong word and I'll kill you. This is your final warning." Her eyes lost all warmth and became stone-cold.

The old lady had a hunched back and was barely 1.45 meters (4'9") tall, yet the Minotaur was cowering in fear. She emitted an overbearing aura that covered everyone in a cold sweat as the room seemed to plunge in darkness despite being perfectly lit.

"The same stands for you lot. Behave in front of the children or pay the consequences. Now come closer. We have many things to talk about and little time left." Baba Yaga tapped her foot and five wooden chairs popped into existence.

"Who are you?" Friya asked.

"What do you want from me?" Phloria was somehow sure that the creepy lady had something to do with her condition.

"Are some of those children really half undead? Does it mean that undead can have children?" Quylla's brain had stopped working for a while, but the implications of such a discovery snapped her out of it.

"I don't really like the other two Ernas, but are we really all going to die in a while? If so, I could at least cross off a foursome from my bucket list." Morok had his priorities straight.

If he had to go, he might as well go out with a blast.

"I've done what you asked. Give me my reward so that I can finally leave this prison and live!" Nandi said.

"Here I thought I would deal with grown-ups for once. Speak one at a time or do not speak at all. As for your questions, you can call me Nana, Friya. I want to speak with you, Phloria. Yes, to both questions, Quylla. Depends on your choices, Morok.

"Last but not least, you're far from completing your task, Nandi. I'll tell you when we're done." Nana sat down and her guests were suddenly forced to do the same.

"Nana?" Quylla politely raised her hand.

Using that word after so long gave her an odd feeling. In the past, she had been familiar with another person who had made the babble word that small children used for their grandmothers as her moniker.

Lady Nerea, also known as Nana, had been Lith's first magic teacher. The Ernas sisters had met her more than once and had attended to her funeral. Calling someone else Nana felt weird because even though the two women looked awfully similar, they couldn't have been more different.

Lady Nerea had been a harsh and cynical woman, but it was just a shell to hide how broken she felt after losing everything she had worked for. She had never recovered from being rejected by the magical community after being framed for a failed mission.

Baba Yaga, instead, had kind and gentle manners, yet under her soft exterior lay the strength of a true ruler. It wasn't just about her uncanny magical powers that could be perceived even when she did nothing, nor about her impossible house.

The entirety of her person exuded an aura of self-confidence and authority that left people in awe even when she did something trivial like a spelling test.