A witch hunt has been declared throughout the entire kingdom. Almost every woman who stood out in any way or offered resistance fell under suspicion. Investigations were practically never conducted; a single accusation was enough. Witches were killed on the spot or burned in the central square for the people's amusement.
When the king gathered men for the witch hunt, Jodah volunteered. He was convinced that magic was an evil that could bring nothing but misery and ruin to the kingdom.
Evening. The sun gives way to twilight. The moon begins to illuminate the dense forest, and her companions, the stars, flicker in the darkness, lighting it with their faint glow. It is the perfect time for the hunt. While Jodah's comrades accuse girls of magic on the city streets, Jodah knows that most of them have fled into the forest, unwilling to fall under the kingdom's wrath. Thanks to his wings, Jodah has perched in the treetops, carefully observing everything happening below, listening to every rustle.
After a while, he hears the faint snap of a twig, then measured, cautious footsteps emerging onto a small clearing beneath him. He peers down intently. A girl, wearing a black hooded cloak and carrying a small woven basket. It seems she was simply gathering berries and herbs, humming something softly to herself. Nothing unusual at first glance, but after her song, a light seemed to ignite in her hand, illuminating her path. Jodah carefully drew his bow, not wanting to startle his target. Only the quiet sound of the bowstring tightening pierced the forest silence.