PlayerOliver

When you were a kid, you lived with your grandmother in the small town of Silvertree, on the edge of a magical forest. Grandma is a witch, and she taught you how to use your magic to affect the natural world, too. “Magic is a part of you,” she always told you. “Learning how to use it means figuring out who you are.”

Now you’re 19 and on your own. After years of living in the forest while you perfected your witchcraft, you’ve returned to take care of your grandmother’s house and crow-familiar while she’s gone. Figuring out who you are feels more important than ever - not to mention, figuring out what Silvertree is. A lot is just as you remembered: the friendly generous next-door neighbors with a kid just your age, the proud town council, the quaint little shops with quirky punny names, the gentle shadowy forest full of magic.

Stone in the shoe

Dina glances from you to the petition on her desk. After a moment, she gives a contemplative nod.


"Yes—I'm sure you're right. I'll have to take a closer look, but I don't doubt there are a lot of people in town who are just as anxious as you are to protect our environment."


Her expression thoughtful, Dina looks over the group again to see if there's anybody else who wants to say something. When no one else speaks up, however, she addresses you all as a whole.


"If that's everything, then—thank you again, all of you. I'll make sure to read this through as soon as I get the chance."


She's perfectly polite—but still, there's no mistaking the finality in her voice.


"Thank you," she says, sounding a little thrown off-balance. "Do you—want to ask us any questions?"


"You've written a summary to go with the petition, haven't you?"


"Then that should be fine," Dina says. "I'll read it through thoroughly and make sure all your points are put across tomorrow. Thanks again."


This time, her implicit "goodbye" is almost impossible to ignore.


"I just thought—now might be the only chance we have to really explain what we're doing," Rana tells her aunt. A note of trepidation creeps back into her voice now as she works hard to still sound polite. "I know you must be busy, but—"


"Rana," Dina interrupts. She isn't smiling anymore. "Please don't worry. I'm sure you've written everything I need to know in the summary. Now, I'm very sorry, but I don't have any more time to spare."


She looks pointedly at the door. With that, you expect Rana to accept that the meeting is over—but she stands still. You actually think you see her shivering.


"I just think this is too important to risk making a mistake," Rana says, each word slow and carefully measured. "And—if I won't get another chance to talk to you about how all these developments aren't going to—"


"If this is the only chance I'm going to get to actually say this to your face, I have to take it. Please, this is too—"


"Rana—you've done an impressive job getting this petition together," Dina cuts in sternly. "By all means, keep doing what you're doing—there's still time if you want to organize another demonstration or something like that. But for now, if you want to make a difference, I'm afraid you'll have to do it outside of this office."


There's a pause. Rana blinks—and looks at her aunt as if she's never seen her before.


"Why? Because you were never going to listen to us anyway?"


The air in the room is still as Dina stares at her niece, frozen in place. For the first time, she's left utterly speechless.


The only movement comes from Rana, who, after what feels like hours turns her head to look at the rest of you. From the way her eyes fix on each of you, it seems as if she's watching to see if one of you—any of you—is going to do something.


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