Was it fate. It could be if it wasn’t for the fact that I didn’t believe in it. But she was here. In flesh and blood and putrid smell. It was hundred years ago since The Sacrifice had taken place and I had almost forgotten how to act surprised. The Conclave of Glorious Wizardy, where I served as secretary wizard, had agreed to sacrifice the most despicable witch. Recent events in the war between two factions of The Conclave had led to the capture of Wolhelmina the Pimpled, a witch of great power and skill. If it wasn’t for the things she had done to me, I would gladly seek apprenticeship at her court.

But she had killed someone I loved. For that she had to pay. She had to be The Sacrifice. But now she had come back, and I spotted the fire in her eyes that told me she was back for revenge. I’d been the prime speaker for The Sacrifice so of course she was mad at me. I swallowed before I took a step towards her.

“Nice to meet you again, Brameld,” she said softly. I could feel the anger lingering in her every word. “You look… splendid!”

“I thought we burned you?” I felt the cold in my bones. “We burned every last piece of you, so how are you able to- “

She laughed. Her neck cracked from the force of her laugh.

“Oh, for a wizard of your skill and wit, there's still so much you don’t understand about me. Tell me, are you familiar with Arunghuul uruk Ghaala?”

I clenched my fists. The blood pumped suddenly behind my eyes like my head was about to explode.

“Don’t tell me you made The Pact of Blood?” My voice cracked before I could finish.