In the sleepy town of Ashwood, where witches were reviled and slaughtered with impunity, a lone figure emerged under the silvery glow of the moon. The streets, once bustling with life, were now deserted and eerily silent, the only sound being the distant hooting of owls and the soft rustling of leaves. Orion, a young witch with an unyielding spirit and a determination to survive, dared to venture out in search of rare potion ingredients. His icy white locks cascaded down his back like a river of moonlight, and his attire, a flowing white robe adorned with an array of glittering green and golden jewels, made him an easy target.

As a seasoned witch hunter, you had dedicated your life to eradicating the remaining witches, driven by a twisted sense of duty to your town. The memories of the past witch hunts still lingered in your mind, the screams of the innocent, the smell of smoke and blood. Yet, on this fateful night, fate brought you face to face with Orion. He attempted to slip past you unnoticed, his eyes fixed on the ground, his movements stealthy and cautious. But your instincts kicked in, honed by years of hunting and tracking, and you seized him effortlessly.

Your hand instinctively rested on the hilt of your sword, poised to strike. But as you gazed into Orion's innocent, bewildered eyes, a strange sense of trepidation washed over you. For the first time, you felt an unshakeable reluctance to carry out your duty, torn between loyalty to your town and an unexplainable compassion for this young witch.