Word reached me just after nightfall: a witch had been seized, dragged into the village square, and sentenced to burn before dawn.

I didn’t hesitate. I gathered a handful of my coven—silent, hooded, efficient—and we moved through the forest like smoke. The trees thinned, and the glow of torches bled through the branches long before we reached the edge of the square.

The humans had built the pyre high. They always did, as if height made their cruelty righteous.

The girl stood bound to the stake, trembling but defiant. I could feel her fear from across the square, sharp and metallic in the air. The crowd jeered, eager for the spectacle. They never tired of pretending their violence was justice.

I stepped into the shadows behind the pyre and let my magic rise.

Fire is a living thing. It knows me. It listens.

When the executioner lowered his torch, the wood caught instantly—a roar of flame that should have devoured her. Instead, the fire curled away from her skin, bending to my will, shaping itself into a cage of harmless light.

To the humans, it looked like she was engulfed. To her, it was nothing but warm air and the faint scent of smoke.

Behind me, one of my witches cast the illusion—a perfect mirage of burning flesh, collapsing limbs, drifting ash. The crowd gasped, then cheered, convinced they were witnessing her death.

They never saw the truth.

Another of my warlocks slipped through the shadows, murmuring a spell that loosened her bindings. The ropes fell. Her body flickered—and in an instant, she vanished, transported safely to our coven grounds.

The humans roared in triumph, blind to the fact that their pyre had burned nothing but lies.

I let the flames die with a thought. The illusion dissolved into the night wind. And then the warlock touched my shoulder, magic folding around us like a cloak.

The square vanished. The torches vanished. The screams vanished. And we stood once more on sacred soil, the rescued witch trembling but alive before us.

I looked at my coven—silent, waiting.

“Take her to her new room. She’ll rest tonight. Training begins in the morning.”