[read Rewinding Time: Burning At The Stake (PT 1 & 2)]

As I continued to flee, the narrow village streets gave way to a dense forest, the canopy overhead blocking out most of the moonlight. The air grew cooler, and an eerie mist began to settle around me, swirling at my feet as I navigated the uneven, root-laden path.

My breaths were shallow, my mind racing with the urgency of my escape. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move—a shadow that seemed to slither and grow within the fog.

I came to an abrupt stop, my heart pounding as the shape materialized into a grotesque form. The creature was unlike anything I had ever seen: dark, scaled skin glistening with malevolence, eyes like burning coals, and bared, razor-sharp teeth. It let out a low, guttural growl, its stare locked onto me.

With no other choice, I broke into a run, my feet pounding against the damp forest floor as the creature's snarl grew louder, closer. Fear propelled me forward, but every step felt heavier, the mist thickening around me.

Just as I thought my lungs would give out, I burst into a small clearing. There, illuminated by soft, magical light, stood a young man—no older than 21. He wore robes that shimmered with mystic runes, and his eyes sparkled with uncanny wisdom. In his hand, he held a staff, glowing with an ethereal blue light.

He turned sharply, his expression shifting from curious to determined as he saw me rushing toward him. "Over here!" he called out, his voice steady and reassuring.

Without hesitation, I sprinted towards him, trusting my instincts. The creature leaped from the fog, its terrifying form breaking through the mist. But before it could reach me, the young man raised his staff, chanting in an ancient language. A barrier of shimmering light erupted between us and the creature, repelling it with a hiss of frustration and rage.

I stumbled, breathless, to his side. "Thank you," I gasped, clutching the device tightly against my chest. "That thing... It was going to kill me."

The young man nodded, his gaze never leaving the creature as it retreated into the darkness. "You're safe now. I'm Mearle Barley, a wizard," he said, his tone calm but tinged with concern. "And you are?"

"Runa. Runa Mahogany," I managed to reply, still catching my breath. "I need help... The villagers... They're after me."

Mearle's eyes softened as he lowered his staff, the magical barrier dissipating. "I know. Word of the witch trials has spread far and wide." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Come with me. I have a safe place not far from here."

Grateful but wary, I followed him through the forest, the path now illuminated by the soft glow of his staff. The mist began to thin, and my tension eased ever so slightly. "Why are you helping me?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

Mearle glanced back at me, a small smile playing on his lips. "Because I know what it means to be hunted for who you are. And because I sense a greater purpose in you. One that could change everything."

As we walked, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. I had found an ally in this strange, perilous time—a wizard who might just be the key to unlocking not only the code but the future we so desperately needed to save.

As we continued through the forest, the mist gradually gave way to a clearer path, illuminated by the steady glow of Mearle's staff. The tension in my body began to ease, replaced by a burgeoning curiosity about this enigmatic wizard who had come to my aid.

"So, you’re a wizard?" I asked, trying to make conversation as we navigated the winding trail.

Mearle nodded, his accent unmistakably British. "Indeed. Born and raised in England, though I've found myself in these parts of late. Fate has a funny way of steering us to where we need to be."

His words carried a certain weight, as if he knew more about our intertwined destinies than he was letting on. Before I could probe further, the path opened up to reveal a modest cabin nestled among the trees. It was quaint yet robust, emitting an inviting warmth through its windows.

"We're here," Mearle announced, leading me to the heavy wooden door engraved with protective runes. He pushed it open, revealing a bustling interior filled with the hum of conversation and the scent of herbs and potions.

Inside the cabin, several witches and warlocks turned to look at us, the air filled with a mix of curiosity and wariness. The room was lit by floating lanterns casting a gentle luminescence over the eclectic group.

"Everyone, this is Runa Mahogany," Mearle introduced me. "She needs our help."

A tall woman with raven-black hair and piercing blue eyes stepped forward. "I'm Lilith," she said, her voice smooth but commanding. "What brings you here, Runa?"

I took a deep breath, feeling the eyes of the room on me. "I’m from the future, sent back to find a code held by my ancestor, Sage Bishop... to save my world," I explained, holding up the ancient device. "But now the villagers are after me, and my brother—"

"Say no more," interrupted a white-haired man, his aura of wisdom undeniable. "You are welcome here, Runa. We will do what we can to protect you."

Mearle led me to a seat by the fire, the warmth soothing my frayed nerves. "This is a sanctuary for those like us," he said, gesturing around the room. "We're a community—united by our abilities and our desire to live freely despite the dangers."

A young witch handed me a cup of herbal tea, the fragrance calming my anxious mind. "Thank you," I murmured, taking a grateful sip.

As I looked around the room, I realized I was among kindred spirits—people who understood the perilous balance of power and fear, who also fought for survival in a world that often misunderstood them. For the first time since arriving in this time, I felt a sense of belonging.

Mearle settled beside me, his eyes earnest. "We'll help you, Runa. But you must promise to share everything you know about this mission. Our fates may be more intertwined than you think."

I nodded, determination hardening within me. "I promise. Together, we can find a way to save both our times."

With Mearle and this newfound group of allies, I felt a renewed strength. Though the path ahead was still fraught with danger, I no longer faced it alone. Together, we would uncover the secrets of the past and forge a way forward—towards hope, redemption, and a future worth fighting for.

As I finished explaining my mission, the room fell into a deep, contemplative silence. The witches and warlocks exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of concern and resolve.

Elara stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with determination. "KALISTAR, you say? That is indeed a powerful word."

Mearle nodded, his tone thoughtful. "We must help her. Not just for her sake, but for the future of all."

Elara addressed the coven with a resolute expression. "Then it's decided. We will protect and aid Runa in her quest."

As murmurs of agreement filled the room, I felt a surge of relief and gratitude. My mission was far from over, but I was no longer alone. With this group of witches and warlocks by my side, I had a fighting chance to uncover the secrets and save our future.

Back in the village, the atmosphere was thick with anger and fear. The villagers, fueled by Reverend Carlton’s fervent zeal, scoured every corner in search of the perceived agents of darkness.

A group of townsfolk, armed with torches and makeshift weapons, treaded cautiously through the forest on the path we had taken. Their faces were set with grim determination, every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs heightening their alertness.

"She couldn't have gotten far," muttered one of the men, his grip tightening around the handle of his pitchfork.

Another villager, a burly man with a lantern, pointed to a strip of cloth caught on a low branch. His eyes widened with recognition. "Look here! A piece of her dress."

The group huddled around the discovery, their confidence bolstered by the evidence. "She must be near," the burly man declared, raising his lantern higher to cast its light further into the forest.

Reverend Carlton, who had joined the search party, narrowed his eyes at the trail. "The witch cannot hide from God's judgment. We will find her, and those who aid her will face the same fate."

The villagers continued their relentless pursuit, pushing deeper into the woods. Unbeknownst to them, they were drawing ever closer to Mearle’s cabin, where I now sought refuge with my newfound allies.

Every step they took brushed dangerously close to our hidden sanctuary. The crackling of their footsteps on fallen leaves echoed through the forest, a haunting reminder of the peril lurking just beyond our safe haven's walls.

The villagers pressed onward, their makeshift weapons gleaming ominously in the flickering light of their torches. As they pushed through the dense underbrush, they spotted a faint glow emanating from deeper within the forest.

"There, up ahead!" one of the villagers hissed, pointing towards the source of the light.

Reverend Carlton's eyes narrowed with determination. "We have found their lair. Prepare yourselves."

They moved swiftly, their hearts pounding with a mixture of fear and righteous fury. The cabin came into view, its inviting warmth standing in stark contrast to the chilling night. With a shared nod, the villagers advanced, ready to deliver their judgment upon the perceived agents of darkness.

Inside the cabin, the atmosphere was tense yet resolute. As we regrouped and planned our next move, the sound of footsteps and muffled voices reached us, signaling the arrival of the villagers. Fear gnawed at the edges of my resolve, but there was no time to falter.

Elara's expression grew grave. "We are discovered. We must act swiftly."

Mearle nodded, stepping forward with his staff in hand. "Runa, we have one last chance. The device you carry—it can be used to transport us through time. But we must hurry."

The members of the coven formed a circle around me, their faces etched with determination and urgency. Mearle began chanting in the ancient language, his staff glowing brighter with each word. The pulsating light of the device in my hands synchronized with his incantation, casting a protective cocoon around us.

Just as the villagers burst through the door, brandishing their torches and pitchforks, the air around us shimmered and twisted. The room dissolved into a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes, and a familiar vertigo overtook me.

When the world reformed, we found ourselves standing on a misty battlefield, the acrid smell of gunpowder filling the air. The Civil War era spread out before us, wounded soldiers lying in the mud, the distant sound of cannon fire echoing through the air. The atmosphere was charged with both dread and determination, mirroring the feelings within me.

Mearle steadied me with a firm hand. "We're here," he said, his voice calm despite the chaos around us. "We must find the next piece of the puzzle. Be on your guard."

As we made our way through the war-torn landscape, the urgency of our mission weighed heavily upon us. We had escaped the villagers for now, but our journey was far from over. Challenges lay ahead, each step fraught with danger, but the bond forged with Mearle and the coven gave me hope.

Through the fog of war and the uncertainty of our path, one thing remained clear: we were bound by a purpose greater than ourselves. And together, we would face whatever the passing days held, forging a future worth fighting for.