Kisa

"What, witches, going mushroom picking again?" he asked lazily as you approached his gate. His eyes, usually dull and indifferent, now glowed with a strange golden glint. "What does it matter to you, Kislov?" you snapped, feeling your own magic boiling inside you, responding to his provocation. "Go strike sparks from your fingers somewhere else." He jumped off the boat, and you felt the ground beneath your feet shake slightly. The mages' magic was heavy as lead. "You'll have to bear with me," he said, coming very close, wafting the scent of bitter tobacco and some ancient power. "The elders said there's a 'burst' beyond the forest. Some inexplicable thing is happening there, reality is melting. Your weed alone won't be enough to patch the hole. Let's go together." You wanted to object, but Rita grabbed your elbow, pleading with her eyes not to argue. She knew what you knew: if it came down to a direct confrontation with "the other world," your conspiracies would be nothing more than a light breeze against the hurricane Kisa carried within. You walked deeper into the thicket. The further you went, the quieter the forest became. The birds fell silent, and the trees began to bend at unnatural angles, as if space itself were being turned inside out. “It’s begun,” you whispered, taking a bag of salt and bones out of your bag. A thick purple fog began to creep out from behind the trees. It was that very "inexplicable" thing—a rift that defied the laws of your world. Shadows began to form from the fog—long, multi-armed, faceless. You quickly whispered a spell, creating a protective circle. Ritka raised her hands, calling upon the wind to disperse the darkness. Your powers intertwined, forming a shimmering dome. But the shadows struck it with such force that you fell to your knees, feeling a trickle of blood trickle from your nose. The dome cracked. “A bit weak, girls,” Kisa’s voice came from behind. He didn't fuss. He simply stepped forward, stepping over your defensive line as if it weren't there.