The figure behind the throne raised a hand and gave a gentle wave. A breeze swept through the hall, stripping the mud from the two scouts and leaving their clothes and skin clean.
Both men bowed low, slamming their foreheads against the floor.
"Keenear and Keeneye, reporting! They may be preparing to leave."
The Witch stepped out from behind the throne.
She approached the two men and tapped each of them on the head with her staff. Every strike released a ring of purple smoke into the air.
The smoke swirled around Keenear and Keeneye before seeping into their bodies through their noses, mouths, and skin. Their power rose as they absorbed it, accompanied by faint pops from their muscles and bones.
"Bring them here," the Witch said, withdrawing her staff. Her voice remained gentle. "We can't let such fine ingredients simply walk away."
Keenear and Keeneye looked up together.
"We won't fail!"
After they left, the Witch walked alone toward the back of the hall.
