Vettriana Gaunt Malphas became one of the most forbidden creations in the Wizarding world. The prophecy was already been known throughout the 15th Century after a dark witch died and rumors started to circle around the world about how she pledged th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
With a nonchalant attitude, Vettriana emptied the peculiar alcohol without detecting any hint of poison. Despite being her first experience with alcohol, she consumed it like water, and to her surprise, there were no noticeable effects.
The ominous message didn't faze her; she couldn't care less if someone was after her. With Kauis gone, she felt an odd sense of detachment and had nothing substantial left to worry about.
Returning to her room, Vettriana carried an air of indifference. The weight of her past actions and the uncertainty of the future seemed to have little impact on her demeanor. The room, albeit simple, offered her a momentary sanctuary from the enigmatic challenges that lay ahead.
As Vettriana lay down, a subtle unease crept beneath her skin. Despite the weariness, a hint of danger lingered in the air, making it challenging for her to find the peace she sought.
Footsteps echoed outside Vettriana's door, accompanied by flickering shadows that danced in the dim light of the corridor. The sounds were ominous, unsettling the quietude of her room, as unseen figures lingered just beyond her sight.
Vettriana swiftly grabbed her wand, ready to defend herself. With a tight grip, she watched the doorknob rattle, indicating an eager intruder. Someone is eager to see me.
As the door swung open, she whispered the spell, "Obscuro Visum." The intruder's eyes went pale as they revealed themselves in front of her.
Blind to her presence, the intruder stumbled into the room. Vettriana quickly seized the opportunity, slipping out of her bed and positioning herself for a counterattack. The mysterious figure, now disoriented, fumbled in the darkness.
Before the intruder could regain composure, Vettriana cast another spell, "Stupefy!" A bolt of light shot from her wand, hitting the target square in the chest. The intruder crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Vettriana cautiously approached, her wand still at the ready. The figure's face remained obscured, masked by shadows. She knew there was more to uncover, and her instincts warned of lingering danger.
Vettriana eyed the mundane broomstick, its simplicity almost mocking her magical abilities. Undeterred, she focused her energy, on weaving enchantments that defied its ordinary nature. A soft glow enveloped the broom as she whispered, "Up."
To her delight, the broom responded, lifting off the ground with newfound grace. Vettriana mounted her enchanted creation, embracing the simplicity of flight in a world full of complexities.
As she soared through the night sky, the moon illuminating her solitary journey, Vettriana found solace in the freedom her enchanted broom provided. Unbeknownst to her, the adventure that awaited would unravel the mysteries surrounding her past and future.
1846
It's been 30 years since the last time people called her my lady in the Ravenwood estate. In the dimly lit tavern, Vettriana sat on the stool, her robes a familiar shroud around her. sitting in the tool, robes always intact like a second skin for her. The alcohol, bitter on her tongue, failed to intoxicate her, leaving her perpetually sober. Yet, she wants its numbing effect, a futile attempt to drown her emotions.
