Standing at the doorstep of the quaint, ivy-covered cottage, Sophia knocked urgently. Her knuckles rapped against the wooden door, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night. Inside, the elderly witch healer, renowned for her mystical abilities and compassionate heart, heard the desperate knock. The healer opened the door, her eyes widening at the sight of Sophia, who stood shivering with Matthew’s lifeless body in her arms.
Moved by the urgency and the anguish in Sophia’s eyes, the healer ushered her inside. The cottage was warm, filled with the scent of herbs and faint traces of incense. The healer gently took Matthew from Sophia’s arms, her face softening with sympathy as she laid the boy on a makeshift bed covered with velvet drapes.
With a heavy heart, the healer examined Matthew, her skilled hands moving with practiced care. Her expression grew somber as she concluded her examination, her voice tinged with sorrow. “I’m afraid he’s beyond saving. The signs of death are clear.”