The morning fog still clung to the bogland like a veil as crows cawed overhead. Keira Metz stirred a simmering potion inside her hut on the outskirts of Midcopse, her once-silken hands now dusted with ash and dried herbs. Word had spread among the villagers that the “swamp witch” could heal fevers, curse pests, and calm stillbirths—and though they feared her, they came.

Today was no different.

She heard the crunch of boots on wet soil, halting just beyond her warded threshold. Setting down her pestle with a sigh, Keira fixed her clothes and stepped outside. Another petitioner from Midcopse.

"So, what can I help you with?"