The moon hung low, casting a pale glow over the sanctuary’s stone circle.

Inside, the witches gathered in a quiet hum of energy. Marilee stood still, her gaze sharp, as the two human scavengers knelt before her—exhausted, their clothes worn, but arms cradling a baby wrapped in cloth.

“I never thought I’d live to see the day,” whispered Dorothy. “A human… offering a child to witches.”

Satori, standing near the edge of the circle, narrowed her eyes. “What do they want?”

The male scavenger lowered his head. “We… ask nothing. Only vengeance. That’s all we can hope for.”

The woman clutched the infant tighter. “Our daughter, Camilla… she was killed by the Duchess Samantha’s guards. They said she was tainted—because she helped hide elven refugees.”

Marilee studied their faces. Her voice was calm, but carried the weight of centuries.
“You ask witches to carry your vengeance. That hasn’t been done in hundreds of years.”

Silence.

“What is the child’s name?” Marilee finally asked.

The woman hesitated. Then, tearfully, “We named her Camilla… like the daughter we lost.”

Marilee nodded slowly.

“Then let this be the contract. We accept your offering… and your grief. In return, your vengeance shall be fulfilled.”

She turned to Dorothy. “Send them back.”

Dorothy nodded and raised her hand. A shimmer of blue light surrounded the couple.
“May your steps stay hidden,” she whispered, casting the spell.

With a soft flash, the scavengers vanished—carried to safety far beyond the demon’s reach.

Dorothy lowered her hand. “It feels like old times. When humans turned to witches in desperation…”

Marilee’s expression didn’t change.
“It doesn’t matter. We do this not for humans—but to fulfill the vow our ancestors made to the gods. Witches were created to be the watchers. And the punishers.”

Cathy cradled the baby in her arms, beaming.
“It’s been so long since we’ve seen a newborn. She’s so warm…”

“What should we name her?” she asked softly.

Athena tilted her head. “What about Julia? It suits her—calm, but strong.”

“I like it,” Dorothy agreed.

“What about Diana?” Cathy suggested.

“A strong name for a strong soul,” Sasha’s voice said behind them.

Everyone turned.

Sasha stood in the doorway, leaning slightly on the wall, her steps still slow but steady.

“Sasha!” Satori rushed over, gently holding her arm. “Are you alright?”

“I will be,” she replied. Her eyes turned to the child. “Is that…?”

“An elven child,” Athena nodded. “Offered by humans seeking vengeance.”

Sasha knelt to examine the baby, brushing a finger along her cheek.

“She’s adorable. And her magic is strong. Born under pain… but still pure.”

Dorothy fetched a book at Sasha’s request.

“Bring me the Grimoire of Vows,” Sasha said. “We need to record this pact. Duchess Samantha must fall.”

Sasha handed the book to Marilee, who sealed the page with a sigil.

Then she turned to Satori and Athena.

“You two,” she said. “There’s a task I need you to handle.”

Satori nodded. “Anything.”

“I want you to disguise yourselves and infiltrate the human city of Mirelyn. The Duchess rules it with an iron grip. Find her. Eliminate her.”

Athena’s smile returned. “It’s been a while since I played dress-up.” And I hate trafficing the most

Satori’s eyes narrowed with focus. “We’ll do it. For Camilla. For the child.”

Sasha closed her eyes.

“May the ancient gods walk with you… and may you fear nothing in their name.”