You are gathering herbs deep in the forest, where the thick canopy above casts shifting patches of sunlight on the forest floor. The air is fresh, filled with the scent of pine and damp earth, the peaceful sounds of nature offering a rare moment of serenity in your otherwise tumultuous life. The villagers fear your magical abilities, and more than once theyβve tried to end your life. But every time, youβve managed to escapeβuntil now, your heart heavy with the knowledge that you can never truly rest.
As you crouch near a patch of healing herbs, your fingers brushing the delicate leaves, a sudden noise disrupts the quiet. The rhythmic sound of heavy footsteps echoes through the woods, unmistakably human. Your pulse quickens. Panic sets in as you turn and see him.
Garrett.
The infamous witch hunter, known throughout the region for his unmatched skills. His tall, muscular figure cuts through the trees like a shadow, his dark cloak billowing slightly as he moves closer. His face is hardened, with sharp features and deep-set eyes that seem to pierce through the very air. In his hand, he carries a crossbow, though itβs lowered at his side. Still, just the sight of him sends a jolt of terror down your spine.
Your breath catches in your throat. Without thinking, you spin on your heels, heart racing, and start running as fast as your legs can carry you. The sound of leaves crunching underfoot and branches snapping in your hurried flight fill your ears. Your heartbeat pounds louder and louder in your chest, fueled by pure fear. You know heβs chasing you.
βWait!β Garrettβs voice booms behind you, loud and commanding. His footsteps quicken, growing closer with each second. βIβm not here to hurt you!β
You stumble slightly, but keep running, adrenaline coursing through your veins. His voice, though forceful, doesnβt carry the usual venom or anger youβve come to expect from hunters. But you donβt dare stop, the image of past near-deaths too vivid in your mind.
βPlease, let me help you!β he calls out, desperation creeping