The Witch's Call

**Chapter 3: The Price of Power**

The clearing felt smaller now, its edges closing in around Elara as she stood frozen in the presence of the witch. The words the witch had spoken still echoed in her mind, reverberating through her thoughts like a drumbeat, relentless and insistent. *To save the land, you must give all.* The weight of that simple statement pressed down on her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. She felt dizzy, her head spinning, trying to process the enormity of what had just been laid before her.

The witch stood before her, still as a statue, her dark robes billowing gently in the faint wind. Her eyes glowed with that same ethereal, silver light, watching Elara with an intensity that made her feel as if every secret of her soul was laid bare before the woman. Elara’s heart hammered in her chest as she took a step back, her legs unsteady, like the ground beneath her was no longer solid.

“I don’t understand,” Elara said, her voice cracking with the weight of the words. “How can that be the only way? There must be another—”

The witch held up a hand, cutting her off. “There is no other way, child. The land is dying, poisoned by forces beyond your understanding. It is bound to you, and you to it. What happens to the land happens to the people. The curse is part of the land’s blood, and to free it, you must give the blood of one who shares that bond.”

Elara shook her head, trying to force the words out of her mind. “But I’m just a girl. I can’t—what do you mean by blood? I don’t have anything to offer.”

The witch’s gaze softened, and she stepped closer to Elara, her presence like a shadow, heavy and unyielding. “You are more than you think, Elara. You are not just a girl from Thornebrook. You have the blood of the earth within you. The land’s magic flows through your veins. You are connected to it in ways you cannot yet comprehend.”

Elara blinked, the words like cold water splashing on her face, snapping her from her daze. “What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

The witch’s eyes shimmered with an ancient knowledge, a deep well of understanding that Elara could never hope to reach. “Your grandmother knew,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “She knew the price of the curse, but she kept it from you, kept you safe from the knowledge that you were destined to bear the burden. But the time has come, Elara. The land calls for its price, and you are its chosen.”

“No.” Elara’s voice was stronger this time, tinged with defiance. “I won’t do it. I won’t be the sacrifice.”

The witch studied her for a long moment, her gaze unflinching. “You cannot escape what is already within you, Elara. The choice is not whether to accept or reject the price; the choice is how you will face it.”

Elara’s thoughts whirled. Her mind raced to her family, to the people she had left behind in Thornebrook. They were all counting on her, weren’t they? They were depending on her to break the curse. She had come so far, risked so much. But the price—the sacrifice—was too much. How could she give up everything? How could she let herself die to save them?

“I won’t do it,” Elara repeated, her voice shaking but firm. “There has to be another way. You said you were a guardian, didn’t you? You protected the land once. You can do it again.”

The witch’s face hardened, her silver eyes darkening with something that might have been sorrow, or perhaps resignation. “I cannot undo what I did. The magic that bound me to this place has long since faded. What remains is the land’s last breath, struggling to hold onto what little life it has left. If you are to save it, it will come at the cost of everything you know.”

Elara felt a lump form in her throat. Her heart twisted with the thought of her family, of the village, of the life she had left behind. But she could not ignore the hollow ache in her chest, the gnawing sense that the witch was right. The land was dying, and with it, everything she loved. The village was only a shadow of what it once was. How could she live with herself if she let it all fade away?

“You must choose, Elara,” the witch’s voice was soft, yet there was a finality to it. “Will you give all that you are to save those you love, or will you walk away, leaving the curse to consume the world?”

Elara closed her eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. The weight of the decision pressed down on her like an avalanche, crushing her spirit with its intensity. She couldn’t save them if she wasn’t willing to make the sacrifice. But to sacrifice herself? Could she do it? Was she strong enough to bear the cost?

She opened her eyes and stared at the witch, her resolve beginning to crystallize. “What will happen to me?” she asked quietly. “If I give the price, what happens to me?”

The witch’s gaze softened again, and for a brief moment, Elara thought she saw something akin to compassion in the old woman’s eyes. “You will return to the earth, child. Your body will become part of the land, your soul woven into the fabric of the world you sought to save. The magic within you will merge with the land’s, and you will never truly be gone. You will live on, but not as you were. You will be part of the land’s spirit, guarding it for all time.”

Elara’s heart stopped. “You mean… I will die?”

The witch nodded slowly. “In a way, yes. But death is not the end. You will live on, your essence will endure in the very soil beneath your feet. You will become one with the land, and your sacrifice will heal the world.”

The air around them seemed to grow colder, and Elara shivered, despite the warmth of the witch’s presence. Her mind reeled. She had come here for answers, for a way to save her village. But she hadn’t expected this. She hadn’t expected the cost to be her very life.

“I… I don’t know if I can do it,” Elara whispered, the words breaking her heart. “I’m just a girl. I’m not… I’m not a hero. I’m just trying to survive.”

The witch’s expression softened further, her voice gentle but filled with an ancient wisdom. “You do not need to be a hero, Elara. You are a part of this world, and sometimes, even the smallest part must bear the greatest burden. You have the strength within you, though you may not see it yet.”

Elara closed her eyes, her mind spinning with the weight of it all. She had never asked for this. She had never asked to be the one to save her village, to bear the responsibility of the curse. But now, standing before the witch, feeling the land’s call in her bones, she realized that she had no choice. The land, her people, and everything she had ever known depended on her choice.

She opened her eyes and looked at the witch again, her heart full of conflicting emotions. She wanted to scream, to demand a way out, but deep down, she knew there was no other option. The curse would not be undone without sacrifice, and the land would not heal without her.

With a heavy heart, she nodded. “I’ll do it. I’ll make the sacrifice.”

The witch’s expression remained unreadable, but Elara thought she saw something flicker in her eyes—perhaps approval, perhaps sorrow. “It is done, then,” the witch said softly, her voice carrying an ancient resonance. “You have chosen, Elara. Now, we will end the curse, and you will take your place among the spirits of the earth.”

Elara closed her eyes, feeling the earth beneath her feet vibrate with energy. She felt a pull deep inside her, a force stronger than anything she had ever known. Her heart beat louder in her chest, matching the rhythm of the world around her. She could feel the land calling to her, wrapping its roots around her soul, pulling her deeper into its embrace.

The witch lifted her hands once more, and a blinding light filled the clearing, as though the very air was being torn apart. Elara felt herself falling, her body weightless, her mind spinning, caught between life and death. The pain was sharp, searing, but there was something else beneath it—a strange sense of peace, as though she were exactly where she was meant to be.

And then, with one final, gut-wrenching cry, Elara let go.

Her body dissolved into the light, her essence merging with the land. The curse was broken. The world would heal.

And Elara… Elara would never truly be gone.