Chapter 18: Witch arrives in the mountain
The figure stepped into the common room with movements that were both graceful and predatory, each footfall deliberate and measured.
Behind them came another form—tall, broad-shouldered, and armoured in blackened steel that bore no device or heraldry.
This second figure moved with the agility of a trained warrior, one hand resting casually on the pommel of a sword that had seen considerable use.
Few of the older people had already guessed who they were, just by their appearances. It wasn’t difficult, as they were mostly strong people in the realm.
The hooded figure reached up with pale, long-fingered hands and drew back the concealing fabric.
A collective intake of breath rippled through the room as the face beneath was revealed—a woman’s face, beautiful in the way that winter storms were beautiful, possessed of a terrible and alien perfection that spoke of power beyond mortal ken.
Morgana.
Even those who had never seen her before knew that name, whispered in equal measures of fear and reverence throughout the mountain settlements.
The Witch of the Moonflares, she who walked between worlds and commanded forces that wise women did not speak of in daylight hours. Her hair fell in waves of black and white that seemed to move with currents not entirely of this world, and her eyes held depths that suggested she had looked upon vistas that would drive lesser minds to madness.
Willem recovered first, his veteran’s instincts overriding the supernatural dread that had settled over the room like a shroud.