Sidestrory 1: Ivelle

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In the heart of a village, nestled amidst dense forests and rolling fields, lived a young girl named Ivelle. The village was a small, close-knit community, where everyone knew everyone else, and life followed the rhythms of the seasons. Ivelle lived with her loving parents in a modest cottage at the edge of the village. Her father was a farmer, toiling in the fields from dawn until dusk, while her mother tended to their home and the small garden where they grew herbs and vegetables.

One crisp autumn day, as Ivelle wandered through the forest, she stumbled upon a small, black kitten. Its fur was sleek and shiny, its eyes large and gleaming with curiosity and fear. The kitten seemed lost and alone, its mews echoing through the trees. Ivelle, with her kind heart, could not leave the poor creature behind. She scooped it up and cradled it in her arms, whispering soothing words as she carried it back to her home.

Her parents, though initially wary, allowed her to keep the cat. They named it Momo, for its dark, mysterious color. Momo quickly became a beloved member of the family, following Ivelle everywhere she went, curling up beside her at night, and even helping keep the mice away from their food stores.

For several years, life continued peacefully. Ivelle grew into a bright, happy young girl, and Momo grew into a sleek, graceful cat. The village, however, was not untouched by the winds of change sweeping across Europe. The Church, which had always been a central part of village life, began to tighten its grip on the people. Rumors of witchcraft and heresy spread like wildfire, fueled by fear and ignorance.

Unexplained misfortunes—crop failures, sickness, and natural disasters—were increasingly blamed on witchcraft. Witches were believed to consort with the Devil, bringing ruin and suffering upon the innocent. The villagers, who had once been united by their shared hardships, began to turn on each other, searching for someone to blame.

One summer, disaster struck. The rains that usually nourished the fields failed to come. The sun blazed mercilessly day after day, turning the fertile soil to dust. The crops withered and died, leaving the villagers facing the terrifying prospect of a winter without food.

Fear and desperation spread through the village. Whispers and suspicious glances became common. And then, someone remembered the black cat that had appeared just a few years before, right around the time when the Church had started warning about witches. Momo's color, so different from the usual barn cats, became a symbol of everything that was wrong.

One evening, a group of villagers gathered in the town square, their faces grim and their voices hushed. They spoke of the drought, of their dying crops, and of the black cat that seemed to be the cause of their misfortune.

"It's the cat," one man declared. "It's unnatural. It's brought this curse upon us."

Another agreed, "Black cats are the Devil's creatures. We should have known better than to let it stay."

The murmurs of agreement grew louder, fueled by fear and superstition. The priest, Father Gregory, saw an opportunity. He had been seeking a way to assert more control over the village and saw the villagers' fear as a tool to be exploited.

Father Gregory called for a gathering in the church. The villagers crowded inside, their faces filled with anxiety and anger. He spoke of the dangers of witchcraft and the importance of rooting out heresy to protect their community.

"We must rid ourselves of this evil," he proclaimed. "The cat is a sign, a familiar of a witch. And we must find the witch who brought it here."

The villagers, desperate for a solution to their suffering, readily agreed. Ivelle and her family were dragged from their home, accused of harboring a witch's familiar. Ivelle clutched Momo tightly, tears streaming down her face, but the villagers were relentless.

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