Until a Witch Dies – Meg Raspberry’s One Year Left to Live

Everything began with a single declaration.

“You’re going to die.”

That was the first thing my master said.

I, Meg Raspberry, an apprentice witch, was just informed that—

“In one year.”

—I will die.

It was one in the afternoon, a quiet study. The sky was clear, and the clouds drifted lazily in the breeze—an utterly peaceful day.

And yet, out of nowhere, those words were spoken. My reaction?

“Pffft!” I spluttered.

“What are you talking about, Master? That’s a terrible joke to spring on me.”

“It’s not a joke. You’re destined to die. In exactly one year.”

Master said it so nonchalantly, flipping through her papers as if she were discussing the weather. The only sounds that filled the silence were the ticking of the clock and the chirping of birds outside the window.

I’m going to die? In one year?

“You’re lying, right?”

“No.”

“Please, take your jokes elsewhere.”

“I’m afraid this is the truth.”

“I’m only seventeen! There’s no way I could die!”

“You will die. From a curse.”

“A curse?”

Master nodded solemnly.

“You were born with it. It’s called ‘Death’s Sentence.’ It activates when you turn eighteen.”

“Death’s Sentence?”

“Think of it like a congenital disease. Once you hit eighteen, the limiter in your body’s clock is lifted. From that moment, you’ll age a thousand times faster than normal. In three days, you’ll grow ten years older. In a month, a hundred. No matter what, you won’t last beyond a month.”

“That’s terrifying.”

The words left my lips, but it didn’t feel real.

“Uh… how do I break the curse?”

“There’s no known way.”

“Then what about the one who cast it? Master, you must have some idea. If we find the culprit, we can torture them until they spill the way to lift it. Rip their fingers off one by one, maybe even burn them alive—”

“Gruesome… And no, I told you, it’s something you were born with. In other words, it’s a disease.”

“How could you say that to a seventeen-year-old girl?!”

“I’ll look after you for a year. Just accept it and rest in peace.”

Wow. That’s cold.

As I teared up, Master sighed and continued, “Well, putting jokes aside… there is a way to survive.”

“Then stop messing around and tell me already!”

“It’s not easy. Time is short, and the task is daunting.”

With that, Master pulled out a small, transparent bottle.

“What’s that?”

“Just an ordinary bottle.”

“And this useless little thing is going to save me?”

“Watch your mouth.”

Master shot me a glare before sighing and placing her hand over the bottle.

“Let this moment be captured and sealed.”

I recognized the incantation—it was time magic. The bottle shimmered as magical energy enveloped it, forming a faint iridescent glow.

“I’ve enchanted this bottle with a preservation spell and a gathering spell. From now on, you’ll be collecting fragments of emotion inside it.”

“Fragments of emotion? What does that mean? Do I need to kill people?”

Can I even get away with that in modern society? Surely, I’d be executed. No, maybe I should release a toxic gas. With alchemy, I could create a large-scale volcanic gas eruption. The people would panic, scream, and die one after another. Those cries of despair would definitely count as emotion fragments. Sure, a city or two might—

“Stop! Stop!”

“What? I was just getting to the good part.”

“How is that a good part?! You can’t just kill people to save yourself!”

“It’s the natural order. Survival of the fittest.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Master sighed deeply, rubbing her temples.

“Listen carefully. There’s something called a ‘Seed of Life.’ It’s made purely from human joy—nothing else. That’s what you need to create.”

“Alright, then just tell me how.”

“You? With only ten years of magic training? There’s no way you could create one.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?!”

“That’s where the bottle comes in! I’ve imbued it with powerful time magic—so strong it’ll never fade. This bottle will collect and preserve tears. Your job is to gather the tears shed from people’s joy.”

“Tears of joy?”

I tilted my head in confusion. Master nodded.

“Tears that people shed when they are truly happy.”

“What’s the point of collecting something so dumb?”

“Again, watch your mouth. Tears of joy are the key ingredient in creating a Seed of Life. And a Seed of Life will make you immortal. Even when your limiter is removed, you won’t die.”

Master tapped the bottle with a soft thud.

“I became an eternal witch the same way. As long as you have the Seed, you won’t age. Unless you willingly break the enchantment, you’ll never die. That’s how you’ll survive.”

“I see.”

“Once you have the Seed, the curse will be meaningless. You’ll live until you choose to let go.”

“So, I’ll become immortal?”

“As long as you don’t undo the spell.”

“Whoa…”

Things just took a wild turn.

A few moments ago, I was just a lowly apprentice witch. Now, I’m on track to become an immortal being like Master. What a deal!

“In the end, you really do care about your apprentice, don’t you? So, how many tears do I need to collect?”

“A thousand.”

“…Huh?”

“You need to gather one thousand genuine tears of joy. And you have twelve months to do it.”

“Is that… easy?”

“People cry from sadness or pain easily, but tears of joy are rare. It took me a hundred years. I had to use all sorts of magic to extend my life before I finally became an eternal witch.”

“And I have to do that in a year?”

“Like I said, the odds are close to impossible.”

“Wow… Thanks for this absolutely garbage mission.”

“Watch your mouth…”

I quietly left the room.

I, Meg Raspberry, an apprentice witch—

Have only one year left to live.