A scorned nation adopted by the Witch seeks restitution. A blade, a pillar, and a ghost each lend their own aid, for their own interests. Part 1 of 2.
They are always watching us, there, behind the veil.
I’ve only met their gaze a few times, only by necessity--a gift of the Witch demands to be used once it’s given--and it’s always me who flinches first. But, I don’t need to see them to feel their gaze upon me. They vibrate in the dark occlusions, thrum in the cold-edged blade, hiss in the burning dross. What they want, doesn’t matter. Who they serve seems to shift from moment to moment. Who they were… they are always begging me, pleading me, to remember.
You can use their power, if you want. Many do. Just know that it is not your ambitions they pursue.
Part 1 of 2.
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