The memory of the brutal torture and executions of her fellow witches by the orcs made her shudder with fear. She knew that if they caught her, she would face a fate worse than death.
But she also knew that she had a mission to fulfill. The contract that Madame Amaranth had foreseen couldn't be ignored. She had to complete her task and bring about the downfall of Coveward, no matter the cost.
With a heavy heart, Ophelia rose to her feet and set out into the forest, leaving behind the village that she once knew and loved. Her path was clear - she had to fulfill her duty as a witch and bring about the downfall of Coveward.
As she wandered through the forest, her mind began to drift toward the stranger she had met the week before. This person claimed to have discovered a method to unlock the hidden realms of the world and promised to reveal this knowledge to the entire world. Ophelia had her doubts about the validity of this claim, but she also felt a sense of trust toward the stranger. She wondered if it was worth hearing him out, and after some hesitation, she decided to go for it.
Ophelia had a deep attachment to her realm, but she was also knowledgeable about other realms and how to journey between them. She enjoyed playing with the stranger's ideas and getting him excited about the possibilities.
As she reflected on her behavior, she began to feel remorseful for how she had treated the stranger. She realized that he had been genuinely excited about something and she had taken pleasure in toying with his emotions. When she had built up his hopes, she had ultimately crushed them completely, and she started to feel guilty about it.
As she reflected on her actions and their consequences, she began to question whether the life of a witch was worth it. Was it worth constantly hurting others, even unintentionally? Would she be better off facing the consequences of being a witch, even if it meant going to the stake? These thoughts consumed her as she continued to wander through the forest.
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The thought of reversing what she had done to Coveward crossed her mind, but she knew it was impossible. Even if she managed to undo the damage, returning to the village would mean certain death at the hands of either the orcs or the witches.
She realized that going back to Coveward was not an option, but she couldn't just leave things as they were. She needed to make amends somehow. Suddenly, an idea struck her. She could use her knowledge of the hidden realms to find a way to help the village from a distance, without ever having to set foot in Coveward again.
Excited by the possibility, she started to plan her next move. She would need to gather some supplies and ingredients, as well as consult some ancient texts to ensure she was on the right track. But with determination in her heart, she set out into the forest, ready to take on this new challenge.
Days turned into weeks as she worked tirelessly on her plan. She gathered herbs and crystals from the forest and spent countless hours pouring over dusty tomes in search of the knowledge she needed. But eventually, all her hard work paid off.
With a sense of satisfaction, she stood in a clearing in the forest, surrounded by her supplies, and began to perform a powerful ritual. Her hands moved in intricate patterns as she chanted ancient words, calling upon the magic of the hidden realms to help her.
As the ritual reached its climax, a burst of light erupted from her hands and shot toward the sky. And at that moment, she knew that her spell had worked. The villagers of Coveward would be safe, and she had made amends for her past actions.
Feeling a weight lifted off her shoulders, she smiled and turned to walk back towards her realm, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
She made up her mind that she needed to return to the realm she originated from. She left the dense forest and started walking towards Springstorm, a nearby town where the hall was located.
As she approached the hall in Springstorm, she couldn't help but admire its beauty. Despite its age, the hall still held an air of grandeur. Modest braziers encircled each of the twelve soapstone columns, illuminating the throne hall with a brilliant glimmer. The countless gems embedded in the rounded ceiling danced in the flickering light, while marble icons looked down upon the obsidian floor, adding to the marvel of the hall.
The onyx rug stretched from the throne down the center of the hall and looped back on both sides, while rectangular banners adorned with ornate decorations hung from the walls. A large candlestick flanked each banner, many of which were lit, casting their glow on the statuettes of folk heroes and legends that stood below them.