Prologue: Islandmagee 1710

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Everyone in angry rants. Their eyes burning with hatred. Their mouths spewing saliva. The only thing that Síne smells is smoke. She can only see ash and people with pitchforks. They keep chanting, "Burn the witch!" that rings her ears. Her eyes fill up with tears, but it wouldn't be enough to put out the fire. No, it would not. Síne did nothing wrong. She raised a wolf after losing her firstborn to an unknown illness. Everyone thought she turned her son into a werewolf. Lycanthropy, they call it. A disease that can be transmitted by tactile contact from a wolf, or in the people's case, sorcery from a witch. The fire suddenly touches her clothing, causing it to catch fire. Her screams increase volume as the fire went from clothes to skin within minutes.

The citizens shouts turns to cries of victory. One, unusually silent, stood there in horror and despair.
I won't end up like her, he thinks in disgust. After the body became pure black ash, the man leaves back to his house with his daughter by her side. Her face says it all. The frown, the tears, the violent shaking. Neither will she, he adds. Kneeling down, he gives his child a warm embrace, knowing how terrified she feels right now.

They aren't uncommon to burn people, mainly women, and claim "witch" here. But he could never imagine that his ex-wife would be one of them. Indeed, he was devastated after the event that had occurred, especially his young daughter, Betha.

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