The maid's thought.

“Celia,” Logan said softly from a distance. He found her crouching down on a pent-up pile of dead leaves. The sun shone brightly as it was just a bit past noon, but the forest remained dark. It was always dark. Someone said it was the fact that the witches lived in there and planted some spell that protected them from the harsh weather, and others believed it was their God that protected it. Whoever God is. 

“Master.” She exclaimed, getting up from her position. She straightened her posture and put the ax she brought over her shoulder. 

“You should go back home, Celia. I’ll be alright, I promise.” He said, but she didn’t budge. 

“I told you it was my duty to serve you, Sir. You are the only master I would e