In the kingdom of Astranor, nestled among mountains and dark forests, there lived a powerful witch named Maescia. Her name struck fear into the hearts of both peasants and nobles. Her magic was legendary, one spell could summon rain, another could halt the flow of a river. Her curses were so potent that entire kingdoms trembled at the thought of her wrath.

Rulers not only of Astranor but also of Nytheria and Vileria, fully aware of Maescia’s power, feared to confront her openly. Instead, they devised a cunning plan. Using ancient rituals, whose secrets had been guarded for generations, they managed to steal her magic. Stripped of her power, Maescia became an ordinary woman, weak and vulnerable. Yet the kingdoms did not intend to kill her, they preferred to keep her alive, exploiting the stolen magic for their own gain. Maescia’s power, now in the hands of the three kings, served to strengthen their reign and wealth.

Despite her despair and weakness, Maescia refused to surrender. Life without magic was hard, tasks that she once completed with a mere gesture now demanded great effort. Each step reminded her of the power she had lost, and the winter that had arrived was especially harsh.

One day, determined to reclaim what was taken from her, Maescia set out through the winter forest. She knew that deep within the woods lay an ancient chapel, dedicated to a forgotten god of vengeance. She hoped to find there the answer to restoring her magic.

The snow was deep, and the winter wind blew mercilessly, yet Maescia pressed on. Each step reminded her of how much she had changed, from a powerful witch to just a human, weak and fragile. When she finally reached the chapel, her body was on the brink of exhaustion. But in the chapel, by the pale light of candles, she encountered a person.