Brenna tiptoed around the outer banks of the lake towards the small hillside house. The girl took care not to crush any of the lilyvale blossoms beneath her muddy boots. With bated breath, she stopped in front of the door and rapped her knuckles on the moss-covered surface. She waited but received no answer.

Brenna knocked again and called out, "Hello? Is anyone home?"

"Who goes there?" a raspy-sounding voice grumbled back. The voice carried a strange accent, as though it had originated from many centuries ago.

Brenna's eyes widened. She beamed with happiness. Perhaps Haelynn and Ibeaza's stories were true, after all. This had to be the Witch of Sinea. There was hope for mama!

Nearly bursting with excitement, Brenna didn't hesitate to introduce herself, "My name is Brenna Catannach. I have come to seek the Witch of Sinea on behalf of my sick mother. She is gravely ill, and I need the witch's help to save her!"

"Go away, Brenna-girl!" the muffled voice growled through the door. "There is no witch who lives here."

"Then who might you be?" Brenna inquired impishly.

"That," the voice snapped back irritably, "is none of your concern! Now be gone with you!"

Brenna stood her ground. In the most respectful tone she could muster, she began to plead, "I beg you, please do not send me away! My servants have told me many stories about a kind-hearted witch with unimaginable powers. They also told me only those who are pure in spirit would be able to find this witch. I have been traipsing through these woods ever since I was old enough to walk, but not once have I ever encountered upon your humble abode. This must mean that you have chosen to show yourself to me on this particular day—for whatever reason—and so our paths must be fated to cross in some way. Please, please, please help my mother! I simply cannot let mama die! I will do anything to save her!"

"Anything, you say? Careful now, young one, words hold more power than you can ever imagine," drawled the thin, reedy voice. "I knew of a man who once claimed he would sacrifice anything for a chance at love. Do you know what happened to him, Brenna-girl? His soul was dragged into the deepest depths of darkness by a shadow demon when his love betrayed him."

Brenna's mouth parted slightly in surprise. "Oh my! Might you be speaking of the wolf who changed into a man for his beloved? Why, I adore that story! My mother tells it to me every night."

Brenna heard some shuffling inside the house. Could it be the sound of footsteps drawing closer? This time, when the voice spoke again, it sounded clearer than before, as though the person inside had indeed moved closer to the door.

"How did your mother hear about the girl and the wolf? Not many mortals know about this tale. Not even native-born Ausicaans who still practice the Old Tongue."

Brenna swallowed nervously. Now that she had piqued the person's interest, she was afraid to make a misstep, utter the wrong thing, and lose their attention altogether.

"I-I do not know, exactly," Brenna answered hesitantly, "but my mother served in the Imperial Palace for many years. She must have heard about the story from someone in court."

"How... fascinating. Tell me, what might her name be?"

"My mother's name is Herra. Herra Catannach."

"Very well then, give me a moment."

Brenna pressed her ear to the door. She heard more shuffling, a long pause, followed by even more shuffling noises.

Finally, the voice declared, "Done! I will have you know, Brenna-girl, I completed a most rudimentary reading of your mother's tea leaves. I make no promises, but her leaves tell me it is possible that she may be saved from gray lung."

Brenna's gray eyes shone like the moon upon hearing these words. "I knew it! Haelynn and Ibeaza were right all along! You do have magic!"

After all, the young girl reasoned, how else could a perfect stranger have known about the gray lung? Brenna herself had only learned about the severity of mama's condition from Dr. Waevers the day before.

"Do not spout such nonsense," the voice from the door jolted Brenna from her blissful reverie, "or else we shall be punished by the powers that be. In truth, I have no magic of my own. My gifts are borrowed. A blessing from the gods, if you will, for... the sacrifice I have made."

There was a sorrow in the stranger's voice that tugged at Brenna's heart. Unable to contain her curiosity, Brenna breathed, "Oh, you poor thing! What kind of sacrifice did you have to make for the gods?"

"I made the same sacrifice you will need to make—if you wish to save the one you love most. Listen well and listen close, Brenna-girl, for you shall have exactly three days' time to complete three tasks for me. If you succeed in these tasks, then the gods may choose to intervene. Only then can you begin to hope that your mother will not perish from her disease."

Brenna's eyelashes fluttered rapidly as she tried to process all the happy news flooding her way. "Only three tasks? Oh, I will gladly accept whatever they may be! Please, tell me, what must be done?"

"First," the voice instructed cryptically, "you will need to climb to the top of Mount Sinea to retrieve as much bierchae root as you can carry. You must bring it back to me before I can reveal the nature of your second task."

"Bierchae root?" Brenna repeated with a confused expression.

In all her wanderings around the village of Lachsea, she had never come across such a plant in person. Brenna knew, however, that Lyonach had mentioned the bierchae plant to her once or twice in passing. It was a rare herb that grew exclusively at high altitudes, and its leaves were said to possess strong medicinal properties. She tried to recall if Lyonach ever said anything of significance about the root of this particular plant, but nothing special came to mind.

In a worried voice, Brenna said, "I fear I have never seen a real live bierchae before. Can you tell me what they look like?"

The voice replied, "Bierchae are evergreen shrubs that possess long spindly leaves and deep, deep roots covered with thorny needles. You can usually find them growing beside green peredomite rock because the soil there is most suited for them to thrive. I suggest that you bring a sharp knife and thick gloves, otherwise, their roots will most certainly make your hands blister and bleed."

Brenna nodded in understanding. "Thank you so much. I will take everything you have shared with me to heart."

The first task no longer seemed as daunting as it did before because she knew what peredomite looked like, and she also carried a small hunting knife, which was currently strapped to her thigh, at all times. She was beginning to feel rather optimistic until a sobering thought crossed her mind.

"Wait, did you say that I will need to travel to the top of Mount Sinea?" Brenna suddenly squeaked.

"Indeed I did," the voice responded promptly.

Brenna's brow furrowed as she protested, "The climb up will take at least a full day, and the climb down will take me all night—and that is assuming I do not stop to rest or sleep or eat! If I only have three days to complete these tasks, then I worry I may not make it back in time to finish the remaining two!"

"Then you best be getting on your way," the voice suggested somberly. "The gods only intervene when you prove yourself to be worthy in their eyes."

Brenna clenched her jaw in determination. "I see. In that case, I suppose I shouldn't waste another minute. Farewell then, my friend, I promise I will return as quickly as possible with as much bierchae root as I can carry!"

Brenna didn't wait for a response as she turned away and started racing in a northeasterly direction towards Mount Sinea. Once the girl disappeared from sight, the moss-ridden door slowly creaked open. A very old and hunchbacked woman hobbled outside. Her name was Sorcha. She smiled.

The old woman's blonde hair had long since turned a snowy white, her once flawless complexion was now covered in spots and wrinkles, but her smile remained unchanged. Even now, as it was tinged with sadness, her smile radiated with warmth and loveliness. Her beloved used to liken it to the sun. She missed him painfully. His blue eyes haunted her even to this day. She couldn't wait to be reunited with him once the gods released her from their pact.

"I will see you soon, Brenna-girl," she whispered softly. "You remind me much of myself when I was your age. Alas, it seems both of our fates have fallen into the hands of willful gods once more. I only wish there was more I could do to prepare you for the arduous path ahead."

There was a secret that Sorcha had seen in the tea leaves. A deadly secret that the gods wouldn't allow her to reveal. As Sorcha stood amidst the water and trees, still as a statue, she prayed that this innocent girl would be able to live up to the monumental fate that had been chosen for her.