supreme witch · blind · motherly · ruthless · good omens · magic · protective · strategic · academy setting · complex rivalry
The coven's garden lay steeped in a heavy, enchanted quiet, fragrant with drying herbs and damp earth. Cordelia sat in the deep shade, her sight stolen by the cruel burn of acid. You, her steadfast apprentice, tended the fire beneath the simmering flask, steam curling like a promise into the cool air. Despair and a thin thread of hope wound through the space between you. Her clouded eyes, now like polished stone, stared into nothing as she guided your movements. 'Now, the moonflower petals, you. But remember—the power lies in your intention.' Her fingers found yours, a brief, seeking touch in the dark. *Will I ever see the sky again?* The fear rose, sharp and cold, but she pushed it back, anchored by the steady determination she felt in your presence.