Entry 56: The needs of the many...

by Hayley Thomas

Dear diary,

Before leaving the charred ruins of Ravensfield, we made a brief detour into the Lorewood, clinging to the faint hope that we might find Raynis—our former companion—somehow drawn back to familiar ground. But when we reached his old campsite, the truth was clear: no one had been here for a long time.

Gael, ever hopeful, called upon the dryad he had spoken to once before. She emerged from the trees, her voice like rustling leaves, but her words brought no comfort. The forest had remained silent since the battle at Ravensfield. And that, she said, was for the better.

Then she told us something far more troubling.

The army that had marched through here had unearthed something massive before they departed.

A dragon’s skeleton.

Our unease deepened as we searched the dig site. The evidence was undeniable: they had tunneled straight into the abandoned dragon’s lair and stolen its remains.

For a long moment, we stood in silence, weighing our options. Should we chase them? Try to recover the bones? But the army was long gone, and deep down, we all knew the truth—we would be facing that dragon again soon enough, whether we wanted to or not.

So we turned away from the disturbed earth and continued back toward Ravensfield.

That’s when Gael stopped, eyes narrowing at the ground.

“The road,” he murmured. “This wasn’t here before.”

Beneath our feet, the dirt had shifted, forming a gravel path that stretched ahead, leading directly into Ravensfield.

We exchanged wary glances before following it forward.

Luke reached out with his magic, scanning the forest.

As we ventured deeper along the unnatural gravel path, a soft, eerie sound drifted through the trees—a faint, melancholy chime dancing on the wind. I slowed my steps, my gaze flicking upward.
Wooden dolls hung from the branches, their carved limbs clattering against one another like macabre windchimes.

A shiver crawled down my spine.

Gael, more attuned to the natural world than any of us, had been watching something else entirely. At the edge of the path, small creatures gathered in unsettling stillness—foxes, rabbits, even a few crows—silent, unblinking.

He knelt and whispered to them. Moments later, he straightened, his expression unreadable.

“They say the path leads to Grandmother,” he murmured. “Knottie Rootskewer.”

The name alone sent a ripple of unease through the group. Knottie Rootskewer—the eldest of the hags.

Still, we pressed on.

The trees thinned, and beyond them, the open fields of Ravensfield’s ruins stretched before us. But what should have been a graveyard of ash and rubble was not empty.

Laughter rang through the air. Children—dozens of them—played among the ruins, their joyful cries sharp against the quiet. An old woman sat on a stone nearby, watching them with a patient, knowing smile.
And then, beyond the children, I saw the dead.

Skeletons moved through the wreckage, mimicking the villagers of a life long lost—fetching water from a nonexistent well, hammering nails into homes that had burned to the ground, sitting together at tables, hands moving as if they were still breaking bread.

Knottie Rootskewer was expecting us.

We approached cautiously, but she only chuckled, gesturing for us to sit as if we were old friends gathering for tea. Her milky eyes gleamed with interest.

“I’ve been watching you,” she said pleasantly. “Curious to finally meet you face to face.”

She knew of our journey north. She knew we sought to face one of Nemesis’ knights. But when she spoke of it, her gaze lingered on Alistan, a glint of amusement—perhaps even something more—hidden in her expression.
“An interesting meeting, for some more than others.”

Then she smiled wider, her cracked lips curling.

She offered help, though she claimed she wouldn’t insult us by proposing a deal, knowing full well we would refuse.
And when we declined, she only shrugged. “Then take some advice. A gift, freely given.”

The air grew heavy.

“If you press on, two people close to you will be lost. Permanently.”

A beat of silence.

“But if you turn back to Keralon, you will lose only one.”

A flicker of hope—quickly smothered.

“It will come at the cost of many innocent lives. Lives of people you do not know.”

Her words settled over us like a noose. Some of my companions clung to them like prophecy, as if the future had already been written.

But I wasn’t so sure.

Before she left, Knottie Rootskewer gave us one last parting thought—a final weight to carry.

"Consider this," she mused, her voice thick with meaning. "Not every life is worth the same in the grand scheme of things."

And with that, she gathered her children, disappearing into the Lorewood’s depths. As soon as they were gone, the strange weight in the air lifted. The unnatural stillness faded. The world returned to normal—or as normal as it ever could be.
But her words lingered.

The debate among us was immediate.

Should we turn back to Keralon and sacrifice many lives to save one close to us? Or press forward, knowing we might lose two people close to us?

For me, it was not a choice at all. A lot of lives against two.

And though I kept my thoughts to myself, I had suspicions about who those two might be. Alistan. And his brother—the man I believe to be the current Black Knight.

The discussion raged. Some argued that we should turn back, others that we should press on. In the end, I won them over—not by certainty, but by doubt.

"We don’t know enough," I reasoned. "Nothing the hag said actually changes our course. And more importantly—this is not prophecy. It’s a hag’s words. And they always have their own agendas."

That truth was undeniable.

Still, as we rode on toward Latebra Velora, the mood among us had darkened. Even the weather seemed to mirror our unease—the air grew cold, the skies heavy with rain.
Keralon’s presence faded behind us, its fields giving way to wetlands. The land felt older here, the trees twisted by time. By the time evening fell, we arrived at a campsite beneath an ancient, dead oak tree—its form petrified into stone, far older than anything around it.

As Luke conjured a small magical shelter, we huddled around the fire, trying to find warmth in the cold night.

Sleep would come, eventually.
But peace?
That was another matter entirely.

Continue reading...

Entry one: The trials

Entry two: The bramble

Entry 3: Rosebloom

Entry 4: Hearts and Dreams

Entry 5: of ghosts and wolves

Entry 6: Hillfield and Deals with Fae

Entry 7: mysteries and pastries

Entry 8: The scarecrow ruse
6th of Lug, 121 Year of the Tree

Entry 9: A betrayal of satyrs
7th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 10: The fate of twins
8th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 11: Cursed twins
10th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 12: Loss and despair
11th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Hayley's rules to being a Witch

Entry 13: the price of safety
12th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 14: A golden cage and fiery tower
13th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 15: A trial by fire
14th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 16: Keralon
15th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Letter to Luke 1

Letter to Luke 2

Letter to Luke 3

Letter to Luke 4

Letter to Luke 5

Letter to Luke 6

Entry 17: I shall wear midnight
1st of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 18: peace in our time
2nd of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 19: Caern Fussil falls
3rd of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 20: I see fire
4th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 21: Cultists twarted
10th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 22: Ravensfield
14th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 23: The Hollow Hill Horror
15th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 24: Burn your village
16th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 25: Ravensfield burns
17th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 26: There will be blood!
21st of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 27: A happy reunion
22nd of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 28: The embassy ball
23rd of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 29: The fate of Robert Talespinner
24th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 30: A royal summons
28th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 31: of Dogville and Geese
29th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 32: A boggle named Pim
30th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 33: A deal broken
1st of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 34: The cost of doing what is right
2nd of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 35: A dish best served cold
9th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

entry 36: Cornu returns?
10th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 37: A letter from Amarra
11th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 38: The case of the (not) missing villagers
14th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 39: A curse broken
15th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 40: Into the Lorewood
18th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 41: Cabin in the Woods
19th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 42: Myrdin and Anaya
20th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 43: Into the Immerglade
21st of Aran, 127 Era of the Tree

Entry 44: A tale as old as time
22nd of Aran, 127 Era of the Tree

Entry 45: The truth
23rd of Aran, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 46: Luke's Ordeal
24th of Aran, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 47: The festival
26th of Aran, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 48: Trouble at the Cathedral
2nd of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 49: Quinn's court
4th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 50: onwards to Latebra Velora
5th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 51: Where is my cow?
6th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 52: Here be dragons
7th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 53: Dragon hoard with a side of scarabs
8th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 54: Leave the basilisks alone
9th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 55: Return to Ravensfield
10th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 56: The needs of the many...
11th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 57: Dreams of Sister Willow
12th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 58: wetlands be wet
13th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 59: Baron Perenolde
14th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 60: Talebra Velora and the lady Morenthene
15th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 61: Cypria
16th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 62: Dragon takes Knight
17th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 63: Return to Talebra Velora
18th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 64: Your presence is “requested”
19th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 65: I stand alone
20th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 66: A day of normalcy
21th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 67: Into the Neverhold
22nd of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 68: The Warg King

Entry 69: Chased by birds

Entry 56: The needs of the many...

Continue reading...

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