through the ashes.

the begging of the end.

As we all know, there is no good nor bad magic in this world. It is us and our actions what makes the intent change.

"It was us... we made this."

I remember those days of my childhood, when my parents used to told me about the history of our people, of how we came here.

— We where the leaves in the trees, the water and the rivers, the dirt in the forest, the dust in the rocks. we were all part of this world, phenix. — she said, with her powerful voice, the kind that makes everyone feel brave, even being the scariest mouse.

— Then, one night, every soul in this forest took a physical form, we became the creatures we call friends, neighbors and family today. — he continued.
— But we broke this forest's magic. There was a time where we destroyed all... — the deception of his voice was deep, anyone could notice how hurtful the truth of our people was.

I was eleven when they told me all the things that happened. How we corrupted the way our magic worked, how we weaked the lands because of our selfishness, because we wanted power and the consequences still haunting us till this day.

There is nothing but darkness outside of the limits, a feeling of loneliness and pain, the pain of the ones who got sick and never came back from the deepest part forest.

— Even if we even if we restored part of it, the damage was too much for just a few witches to heal — she sounded disappointed, and is not something to be surprised of, because it wasn't enough, we still fighting to get our people back... To get my father back.