CAGED, CLAIMED, AND FATED
She whispered low, unintelligible words into the rising steam, her lips twisting with every dark syllable.
"Now we require the final ingredient," the witch muttered, looking up. "The anchor for this spell."
"Without it, the returning spirit will have no vessel to tether its dark obsession to."
Right on cue, the side door of the chamber clicked open, and a young lady walked inside.
It was none other than Victoria, her footsteps hurried but quiet against the stone.
She was dressed in her standard royal attendant attire, but her eyes darted nervously around the room.
She reached into the pocket of her apron and brought out a small, silk pouch with shaking hands.
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