Aria glared at the map sprawled across the table, her finger tracing the intricate paths of dark magic that wound through the war-torn landscape. “So,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “another day, another opportunity to die for a cause I couldn't care less about. And here I thought being a witch would involve more spells and less paperwork.”

Her best friend and fellow witch, Selene, snorted from across the room. “You could always quit the coven, you know. Go live on the beach, start a herbal tea business, and wear ridiculous hats.”

Aria shot her a look. “First, I’d have to find a beach that wasn’t covered in blood and charred corpses, and second, the hats are a dealbreaker.”

"Fair point," Selene said, grinning. “But seriously, you’re not going to die for a war you don’t believe in, are you?”

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“Of course I am,” Aria replied, picking up a glowing, green vial from the table and swirling it lazily. “I have a duty. The coven needs me.” She paused, glancing at the window. "At least I think they need me. They’re all pretty useless without me.”

“More like you’re too stubborn to leave,” Selene teased. “At least you’ve got the moral high ground.”

Aria raised an eyebrow. “Moral high ground? Do you even hear yourself right now?”

Selene shrugged. “It’s either that or get eaten by war monsters, so take your pick.”

“War monsters,” Aria repeated with a sigh. “I hate this world sometimes.”

Just then, the door creaked open, and the head witch, Myrna, entered the room. She didn’t need to say anything. The dark magic crackling around her was enough to signal that another mission awaited Aria.

“Time to earn your keep,” Myrna said with a half-smile, her eyes glinting with a knowing look.