Sanctuary- A Witch-s Tale -

“She speaks to things that have no names,” the baker’s wife added.

“She makes poultices from nightshade,” the butcher said. Sanctuary- A Witch-s Tale

They fled. The forest swallowed their torches. The girl stayed. Her name was Ivy. She learned the herbs, the runes, the quiet art of listening to wounds. The cottage grew warm again. New people came—not just out of desperation, but out of hope. A potter who dreamed in clay. A midwife exiled for saving a stillbirth. A poet who had forgotten how to write. “She speaks to things that have no names,”

What do you need to be whole?

Ivy opened it.

Elara stood in the doorway. She was not afraid. She had already burned once, in proxy. in proxy. “Sanctuary

“Sanctuary,” she said.