Nestled deep within the ancient forests of Autumnhold, the Elf Witch Academy was a place of serenity and learning. Towering silver-barked trees encased the school in a natural fortress, their whispering leaves carrying the chants of spells and the laughter of young witches into the skies.
Elowen, a promising elf woman with fiery red hair and emerald-green eyes, walked along the cobblestone path leading to the academy's central spire. The air was thick with the scent of blooming nocturnal flowers, and the faint hum of protective wards resonated in the background.
Elowen clutched a satchel filled with enchanted scrolls close to her chest, her thoughts consumed by elemental spellcraft. It was deep into the night, and no one was inbound.
As she was walking, she suddenly sensed something in the air, and so she stopped. She looked back and to her front. There was nobody, but the oppressive energy was starting to increase.
