Before the story

Her hands hurt considerably, well she was very old, 2,346 to be exact. If she explained what she was, she was just a run of the mill human, as human as an ancient witch can be, but human all the same. She had lost much of her power as the years turned to centuries and centuries turned to millennia. So she wasn't exactly swirling with some mad, dark arcane power. She was a humble lady that resided within her own cabin in the woods content to write about her day and clean her home with what little spells she could muster. She had not written in quite a few days, her hands hurt too much. Age was slow for the witch, but it had finally caught up to her, "gets us all" she'd chuckle as her hands throbbed from the days toils.

The old witch let out a great sigh as she made her way across her home. To an outsider, her wooden home tucked neatly within the forest would at first glance be considered "modest" but upon closer examination she had various oddities within her home. To name a few; a cauldron that boiled with no heat, a broom that swept the floor by itself with a dustpan that scurried behind it helping collect the mess, and a bookcase that liked to organize itself often in random patterns it deemed fitting. Her home was filled with many wondrous things, but this was all normal to her. Deciding she would weave a quick spell together she bound the natural energy from around her and with one final gesture of her outreached hand she now had a newly brewed beverage within her teapot.

"Still got it," the witch mused as she served herself a cup, "now where is that accursed bird." moving to her window and throwing it open she once again called upon the earth around her. Summoning the magic of the forest the witch began tracing a line in the air and released her spell, speaking the name of her familiar, "Bella." The call pulsed outward, a green wave of translucent light noticeable only to the one it was meant for. Moments later an owl sprung from the dense woods that surrounded her home and perched itself on her opened window.

Bella, a grey owl that was slightly larger than other females of her species was almost entirely white save the dark grey streaks along her back and wings. But by far the oddest thing about her were the two horns that protrude from atop her head. This was unusual and unheard of in any owl but since she was a witches familiar it was normal for the bond to have some kind of effect.

"What? It's too early for all this," Bella did an exaggerated yawn even covering her mouth for emphasis. The witch glared at the bird as she took a seat in her favorite chair, she could punish her for that remark even rack her in terrible pain as one of her bonded familiars but she wouldn't she loved the troublesome bird too much, "Come sit with me Bella, I'm quite tired from the day," the bird ruffled its feathers and then took a dive from her perch so she could nuzzle the old woman close.

"Anything interesting today bella," the witch asked while petting the feathers of the owls back.

The bird cooed quietly enjoying the newly acquired pats, "All is well... well there is this one fern mouse that thinks I don't notice it's taking all my shrews, I prefer a good shrew to a mouse but I think I'll make an exception if it keeps it up."

"Ah to be an owl and have not a care in the whole world but a simple mouse," the witch chuckled inwardly as she continued to pet. Bella was only slightly annoyed that her concerns over her next meal was jested at but nevertheless she took her pats in silent bliss.

Well to be fair, the witch had secluded herself far away from any prying eyes of any would be students. There was a time long ago, when she stood at the top of the world as the "great witch Nazaika". All over the lands of Drogia and Torvella all had great respect for her name. Drogia, with its rich lands governed by the council of four noble houses with its king placed firmly at the top, was protected by its knights, clad gloriously in silver bound by a code of honor.

"More like a code of servitude," Nazaika grumbled, "well they aren't any better than the Torvellans constantly flaunting their magics!" And to make matters worse she even taught most of the brats that ran the damn country! The so called Sage king of Torvella was just the spoiled brat of someone she had taught long ago. She never would've even considered the notion that the little kid with a chip on his shoulder and a foul mouth would ever become a king of anything let alone an entire nation.

Yet Nazaika couldn't help but wonder, could she have been a better teacher? If she had been a bit more mindful of his ambitions and nurtured and pushed him in the right direction, would things be different? Would she still smell the smoke, would she still feel the heat of the flames dancing around her and would the faces of everyone she failed still haunt her dreams. Would it be different? Could it be so?

Nazaika deep in thought about the past absentmindedly stopped moving her hand. Bella looked up to protest but upon seeing her masters troubled face, the bird moved in closer and ruffled her feathers so she could snuggle the old witch and get her attention.

"Is everything okay today Nazz," the owl asked, "It's not like you to be so far and away."

Suddenly realizing where she was, Nazaika decided to put the past away for now, there was just too much for her to take out and unfold for one lazy afternoon.

She scratched Bella under her beak and soon the owl began cooing softly again, "Yes I am fine Bella, thank you for worrying about this old woman. but I fear.. something is about to change, the magic is moving again."

Nazaika hands' started to shake, the pain was back. She placed her cup on the table next to her and held Bella close. She had felt this kind of unease only once before.

"The unraveling," she whispered, it was happening again. The great weave from which all magic flowed was changing. Magic's very nature made it unstable, and unpredictable but this time anything was truly possible. It was like the very air all beings breathe, unseeable, untouchable but still tangible. And like the air can be felt upon your face, the strands of the great weave too could be felt by those who knew and even be used by them. In this way, magic was born into the world, and for every living being strands were born to them. While some were blessed with the ignorance of never knowing magic. Others, like Nazaika, could feel and manipulate the ones they were attuned to.

Nazaika had lost a great deal in the last unraveling and this time she feared she wasn't up to the task. The witch felt a sudden draft and upon inspection outside her window she noticed the dismal clouds overhead looming.

"It's best you stay in tonight Bella," The witch closed the window and placed the owl on her wooden perch within. Grabbing her iron poker from its place she started moving the kindling of her flames, careful as to not knock any embers loose on her floor.

"Is it really going to be that bad Naz," Bella asked as she nipped at the feathers around her left wing cleaning them.

"Yes, Bella. This time at least, I'll fear the rain."