From the shadows, Malvolia cackled maniacally, the sound of it tearing the black, starless canvas of sky.

A wood nymph who had been drinking from a nearby stream suddenly stilled, hearing that discordant sound. She crept as close as her beating heart dared and saw a terrible sight – a hitherto mythological creature rending a human being limb from limb.

But that wasn’t what startled her into flight – it was the pair of red eyes glaring from the darkness, glaring at her, with such a look of hatred that it seared the nymph right to the core of her being and sent her running in the opposite direction as fast as her legs could take her.

No matter how fast she ran, though, she couldn’t escape the voice that invaded her mind, twisting and turning inside her ears: Run, little wood nymph, run and tell your prince whom I’ve sent. Run, before I send this creature after you, too, my lovely.

Sobbing in fright, the wood nymph went and did exactly what the witch bid her do.