Jaenor rushed to Morgana's side as she finally allowed herself to collapse onto a fallen log. "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice full of concern.
Jaenor couldn't explain why, but he worried for her deeply. They hadn't known each other long, yet in his mind, she already felt like family.
"I'll live," she said with a tired smile.
"But that was closer than I like to admit."
Darian was already at her side, checking her wounds, cleaning the cuts from the ice spears with water from his pack. "I don't like these witch duels."
Morgana chuckled.
Darian couldn't interfere because of the witch code, and it would only get worse if he did.
And it wasn't the first time she had to dance on the whims of these coven witches. And Darian couldn't say anything because it was related to their sisterhood.
The code was like their law, and it was ultimate. The council of these covens and the High Witch sitting at the top made sure that all witches followed it without question.
