𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 ★ The Witcher

𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝟷𝟽, 𝚊𝚐𝚘, 𝟹𝟾𝟸 𝚍.𝚌
𝟑:𝟐𝟏 𝐀𝐌.

The night is freezing in the remote exarchate of Ravenna, Byzantine Empire. It is a full moon, there is no historical record that could describe the beauty of that winter season; It is a full moon, the favorite lunar phase of sorcerers. The spell in the middle of the forest, It is an accelerated rite, and a demonic premonition of what is going to happen from there. The blood spilled in a pentagram of heretic language, under the purr of an evil Hebrew; The snorting of the forest is a cry for help to the fear of which could lead to the dark arts that Darian performed with an almost animal rage.

The trees shook so violently that it could not have been the work of the breeze; it was a peculiar cry that the animals made, heads bowed and fearful before such metaphysics before them, testifying to the horrors of this man.

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