Amidst the shadows of a dense forest, a group of wytches lay lifeless. A scouting party caught in the act. One of them, barely clinging onto life, struggled to crawl away. But a cold metal gauntlet halted her in her tracks. The hand slowly wrapped around the nape of her neck and lifted her off the ground. An eerily calm voice erupted behind her. The wytch had no choice but to listen.

“…I could not understand it at first. A group of what I assumed were people attacking us randomly, inflicting pain, making us grieve, inciting hatred, and forcing us to shed tears. Who would perpetrate such atrocities? Who would take the lives of fathers, mothers…and children?” 

The grip tightened on the last word.

“And then it dawned on me. These assaults were not the work of people. They were carried out by savage animals. Mongrels feasting on the devastation they brought upon innocent lives...but did you truly believe your feast would go unnoticed?” 

The hand abruptly jerked the wytch toward the fallen. She sensed two green eyes burrowing into the side of her face. She dared not speak.

“…I will admit. You caught us off guard during the initial onslaughts. You seized our king, you laid waste to a part of Oakhold, Plains below! You created widespread panic throughout Wood’s Edge!…but your weakness is beginning to show. You failed to destroy Stag-Point, one of your lairs was uncovered and numerous of your pathetic sisters were eliminated, and should I even mention the utter disaster your little group faced at Haez?”

The wytch found herself drawn closer to one of her fallen sisters as the grip on her tightened further.

"You are all so painfully…mortal. It’s truly tragic that you believe you are not. That you think you can evade punishment. That you can evade death…judgment…”

Beads of sweat formed on the wytch's brown as her gaze shot upward. She saw nothing but a shrouded face staring back. Only two emerald eyes visible through the shadows. It was then that she realized the man had made his decision long ago.

“Meeting the gaze of your executioner is a bold move, wytch. Yet, you have been considerate enough to allow me to speak uninterrupted. You did not summon your thralls or erect a barrier while I spoke…perhaps you realized I would not listen. And perhaps you understood that all your efforts would ultimately be futile. It also appears that you realize your death is imminent, and for that, I shall cease my mental torment upon you and offer you a quick and merciful demise. May your sisters be as silent as you when their time comes. For yelping beasts are harder to kill.”

A surge of lightning burst forth from the clearing as those final words were spoken. It reverberated and resonated throughout the lands. No further words followed, no bodies remained. The clearing was left empty. Except for the gentle whisper of the winds and the smoldering ash it carried away.