The court meeting unfolded with an air of forced normalcy as the king addressed his advisors and courtiers. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, concealing the webs of deceit that clung to the castle's heart.
Suddenly, the doors burst open with an otherworldly force, and a figure cloaked in darkness strode into the room. The atmosphere shifted as the courtiers gasped, their eyes widening in disbelief.
The young witch's mother, draped in a cloak woven from the threads of midnight, faced the king with her emerald eyes ablaze. Her presence was a tempest, a harbinger of grief and vengeance. The very air crackled with the power she commanded.
"I demand for my daughter to be returned to me!" She thundered, her face dark with rage and her voice echoing through the grand hall. The courtiers exchanged uneasy glances, the illusion of normalcy shattered.
The king called the guards to present the lifeless body. With callous disregard, they threw the mangled form at the feet of the witch. The mother fell to her knees, a guttural cry escaping her lips as she cradled her daughter's broken form.
The king, unmoved by the familiar grief that unfolded before him, spoke callously. "Your daughter got what she deserved, especially for meddling with dark forces. She was a threat to my kingdom and my daughter!"
The witch's anguish transformed into a storm of dark fury. Her once-gentle magic, now tainted by the unfair loss of her daughter and fueled by the dark desire for revenge, unfurled through the air like a dark fiery butterfly breaking out from its cocoon. The courtiers recoiled, feeling the tendrils of corruption that tainted the very essence of her soul.
In her rage, the witch cursed the king, her words dripping with venom and her eyes dripped with angry tears that evaporated in the dark fire around her and her daughters body. "May the shadows of your choices haunt you, Aldric. Your kingdom shall crumble, and you shall know the pain of loss as I do now!"
As the witch's dark magic unfurled, Cersie, witnessing the tragedy unfold, screamed and cried at her father. "Apologize! You've brought this doom upon us! Please father admit you were wrong!" Her pleas fell on deaf ears as the courtiers watched in silent horror.
Yet, in the depths of the king's gaze he was devoid of any remorse. Cersie had a flicker of realization and she stood up. She knew deep down her father would never change. His loss... No, their loss of family had made him blind to everything. Her voice rang out, a beacon of defiance in the face of darkness. "Enough, Father! We cannot condemn the innocent for what you blame of a few." Cersie glared at her father and slowly walked down the steps from the thrones to the witch surrounded by dark flames. "I am so sorry my father took her away from you, but if you can find it in your heart, please... Please spare the kingdom. It is full of innocent people just like your daughter! I-I tried to warn her about the witch hunters heading her way but she got caught..."
The witch, seeing the king's daughter defying her father, hesitated. She looked back at her daughter's lifeless form and determined what she should do.