“There is no gentle unmaking of the soul,” the crone said. Night had fallen in the Briar Woods and she had spells yet to cast. The cabin filled with a spiced aroma as she stirred her blackened cauldron. The surface bubbled and hissed as she threw herbs into it. Evalina had waited forty years for the stars to realign. She would not be caught unprepared for her chance to rewrite destiny. Her left hand ached in agreement— two fingers missing.

A knock on door woke Evalina. No light showed from the windows. Someone had braved the Briar Woods at night to seek her. Only the foolish or powerful could. Often, both.
She opened the door to find a small, velvet cloaked stranger.
“Are you the witch?” A girl asked, her bright face peeking out of her hood.

”Who are you to ask?”

“My name is Oona. My mother sent me to find you. She said you’d want to know about the fallen star.” The girl tried to hide her nervous tick, but It was for naught. An old crone can see, even if she were blind. And with sharp, dark eyes, Evalina was certainly not.
“Your mother sent you to tell me about a fallen star? What does she want in return?”

”She did not say— only that you must hurry before the men from Darnuc found it. Their rangers have been patrolling the edges of the woods for weeks now.”

“And what do you want? Why send you through these woods at night? You’re a fool to do it for nothing.”

The girl shifted the cloak to reveal a half arm on her right side.
“I want to learn.”