The narrator, who had already slipped out of his role, did not stop there. His voice rose, carrying above the chatter of the crowd, ringing with a strange conviction.
"Witches are not fiends, but creatures blessed by the gods! They are called witches because angels themselves bestowed upon them the power of heaven, gifts no ordinary being could ever possess."
A child's voice piped up, trembling with doubt. "But… but witches are evil in all the stories!"
"That is not true," the narrator countered without hesitation, his eyes flashing beneath his hood. "Their power is born of purity. Only a heart untainted, only a soul unstained, could ever hold such power. Any creature less would be destroyed by it."
Arabella's breath caught. Gods? Angels? The words felt foreign and heavy on her tongue.
