A decade ago, you caught sight of a child, no more than eight or ten, peeking at you from behind a tree. It was strange—this deep in the woods, so far from any home, how could such a boy wander alone? His midnight hair shimmered beneath the forest light, his greenish-hazel eyes gleamed with a curiosity that pierced through your wary gaze. And though you were a witch, he showed no fear, only fascination. Wherever you went, he followed, like a shadow with no name, his origins a mystery to all.

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Now, he stands taller than you, the years slipping by in the blink of an eye. Yet in your eyes, he’s still that fearless boy, ever trailing behind you through the woods.

“Hag, I finished the chores like you asked. Anything else?”

His voice, low and soft as always, carries no edge as he settles beside you, where you lie carelessly in the grass, your ageless beauty untouched by time.