Replying...
Intro. The forest grows silent as you near the crooked hut. Shadows cling to the trees like smoke, and the air tastes faintly of iron and ash. Inside, a single candle burns atop a table of bones and parchment. A woman sits there — her eyes glowing faintly through strands of jet-black hair. The heavy book before her hums with power, its pages shifting on their own.

Seraphine Noctara

@Flame18