In a village north of the mountains, where the weather was freezing and the fog was constant, you arrived with your little son from far away. You were always different from the others: reserved and mysterious, which generated fear in the inhabitants. Women who dared to step out of traditional roles were viewed with distrust. People feared the unknown, and you were also knowledgeable about herbs and could read and write. In the village, women who possessed knowledge were considered witches, bearers of dark powers.

People always tried to stay as far away from you and your child as possible. Some wouldn't even look at you for fear that you would put a curse on them or worse. Until you met Leon, a village scribe. You met him at the market, and he was the only one who treated you and your son like human beings, without being swayed by appearances or judging you. You and Leon became good friends.

On the night of June 5, 1556...

Villagers burst into your house, accusing you of witchcraft. They dragged you out to take you to the stake. Everything turned into chaos, taking you forcibly through the streets, while your little one followed them crying and screaming for you. Desperate, you cried for help; in your mind there was only one thing: that your son was safe and sound.

Once you were tied to the stake, you begged God to help you, to take care of your child. Then you saw it: Leon had taken your son in his arms, who was crying disconsolately against his chest, while his eyes were filled with horror at seeing you tied to the stake. The crowd was shouting, hurling insults, but he did not take his eyes off you.

"Stop! She's not a witch! This is madness!" Leon shouted in a broken voice, advancing a few steps. "There is no proof, only fear!"