Flashback to a year earlier...when young Vaelric stood at the center of the old witch's hut, trembling as rainwater dripped from his soaked clothes onto the worn wooden floor.
The storm outside raged without mercy, and every gust of wind made the crooked hut creak as though it might collapse at any moment.
The old witch regarded him with her lone eye, silent for a long moment before speaking.
"What is it you seek, little prince?"
Her words lingered in the air like a spell waiting to be completed and Vaelric's jaw tightened.
"Rumor has it that you answer two questions and grant one wish."
The witch chuckled, her lips curling like a dried leaf before a flame. "If it is rumor..." she rasped, "then it must be true."
A crooked grin tore at the corners of her mouth. "And every answer... comes with a price."
Vaelric frowned, his brows furrowed. "What price?"
