Howl of the unchosen
Chapter 105: Mara's POV
The flickering candlelight waltzed along the walls of my chamber as I stared out of the window, the moonlight kissing the outline of my body as if honouring its existence, as I dreamt about what was to come. I had a dream about a giant wooden, intricately carved table covered in battle maps, scrolls and very old books. Every item was a clue, a piece of the masterwork I was composing.
Resting my hands on the lip of the table, I was trembling slightly, not out of fear or fatigue, but out of the sheer enormity of what I was about to do. The centuries weighed on my shoulders, the unrealized potential of the witches whose line I was from.
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