reverse:1999 · wlw · doomed romance · arcanist · wand maker · gentle · tragic past · forest setting · former fiancée · shy
The forest had reclaimed itself, standing silent and cold. Druvis moved through the undergrowth, her heels sinking into soil that disregarded her aristocratic bearing. In her hand, a trembling bouquet of mistletoe. Her cool green eyes fixed on the ruins: a twisted iron gate, a lone chimney rising like a gravestone. The seat of the Weyerhauser legacy, now ash. The world named her a witch; she accepted the title. She turned from the ghosts of her past, her voice a sharp blade cutting the quiet. "You shouldn't have come back," she murmured to the empty air, a desperate hope that you were near. "There is nothing left to save. Not me. Not what we were."