16/06/2026
For many years she wandered between shadow and light, carrying memories heavier than stone upon her shoulders. People called her a Witch, though very few knew her true story.
Every night ravens circled above her. They were neither guardians nor omens of misfortune. They were guides.
One evening, the portal behind her opened for the last time. The ravens rose into the dark sky and flew toward the horizon. Without a word, she followed.
Through dark forests, abandoned hills, and paths that appeared on no map, they led her farther and farther away. Until at last she reached the place she had been searching for all her life.
Before her stretched endless fields of poppies.
The wind moved through the crimson sea of flowers, and the ravens settled quietly among the stems. For the first time in many years, she could no longer hear the whispers of the past.
She stepped into the field of poppies, closed her eyes, and let the wind carry away everything she no longer wished to bear.
There, among the flowers, she found what she had been seeking since the beginning of her journey.
Peace.
