Tersa lived in a cottage with a Journeymaid Black Widow. She saw the sunlight for what it was. Had interacted with Jaenelle, Queen of Ebon Askavi and her coven, traded spells and craft ideas.
Had had quiet conversations with Saetan SaDiablo, the High Lord of Hell. She had regained not all, but most of her Sanity. As much as she could claim while keeping her craft after being broken.
She had, after all, shattered the chalice.
Tersa sat back, looking at the tangled web.
It showed her a memory.
Tersa set back her shoulders. She did not fear the Twisted Kingdom. Nor the one who ruled on the throne of Chaos.
This then, was a message, a warning. Things were moving again, moving fast. She would again be needed to play a part.
Hearing the Journeymaid descend down the stairs, she reached out, crushing the web, making sure the other could not read it. None could now, not even Witch. This was a message for Tersa alone.
It was time.
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