The Witch Trials (I)

"It would be weird if you are in the alley alone so once you get out of this illusion, meet me in the Cafe opposite the alley," She said and then she faded away, as well as the illusion.

Zayn moved through the narrow alley, gripping the bag with his newly purchased gear.

His other hand rested lightly on the dagger that he had placed at his hip, a habit more than a necessity.

He didn't have much of a choice but to go see her.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the smoky aroma of roasted meat as he stepped into the small café. It was a modest establishment — wooden tables, dim lanterns hanging from the ceiling, the quiet murmur of conversation filling the space.

It wasn't particularly fancy, but it was crowded, and for good reason.

Because of her.

The Witch Princess.

She sat near the window, bathed in the golden glow of sunlight filtering through the glass.