Goblin's Hollow 6 Willow's Fate

The ancient stones of Ralvania’s castle hummed with a quiet magic, a familiar comfort after four years of relative peace. Inside her enchanted office, the air, usually thick with the scent of old parchment and brewing spells, now carried the faint, sweet aroma of pixie brew. It had been a long day, filled with the usual parade of gnomes, dwarves, and the ever-increasing number of curious hybrids seeking her wisdom.

Ralvania settled into her plush armchair, a soft sigh escaping her lips. The quiet was a welcome balm. She poured a second cup of the steaming brew, its warmth seeping into her hands, and glanced around the room. It wasn't often she found herself truly alone here, not with Sage constantly bustling about and Amberosia a frequent, comforting presence. Today, however, seemed to be one of those rare, serene moments.

She took a slow, deep sip, letting the brew’s soothing properties calm the lingering echoes of her own past, a past that, even four years removed, still resonated within her soul. The castle felt secure, protected by its enchantments and the watchful eyes of those she trusted. Yet, a tiny, almost imperceptible tremor of unease stirred within her. The calm, she knew, was a precious, fleeting thing.