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the witching hour
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Emery knew she would never be able to gather the herbs to heal her ill father and mother, less she would be accused of witchcraft.
"who has their eye upon me" she thought to herself as she skipped and hopped down the rough terrain of the grassy hill. "Be it an Indian or...something else?"

The man with the hood smiled as the ground started to crack and flames pooled out.

She gathered herself and raced home, past the chaos and her brief moment of insanity...or so she hoped.

The world was changing and evil was its lord. If you listened close enough you could hear the Indians chanting and their drums humming. They knew it too.