Sanctuary- A Witch-s Tale -

They say the witch never really dies. Only changes shape.

Elara stood in the doorway. She was not afraid. She had already burned once, in proxy.

Elara smiled. It was not a kind smile.

The man laughed. “What will you do, witch? Turn me into a frog?”

Ivy opened it.

“Give her back,” the man said. “She’s property.”

They fled. The forest swallowed their torches. The girl stayed. Her name was Ivy. She learned the herbs, the runes, the quiet art of listening to wounds. The cottage grew warm again. New people came—not just out of desperation, but out of hope. A potter who dreamed in clay. A midwife exiled for saving a stillbirth. A poet who had forgotten how to write. Sanctuary- A Witch-s Tale

The trial lasted an hour. The sentence: fire.

Elara watched from the edge of the pyre, held back by three men. Her mother did not scream. She looked at Elara with eyes like two embers and mouthed one word: Sanctuary . They say the witch never really dies

“No,” she said. “I will turn your cruelty into a mirror.”

What do you need to be whole?