The witch walked towards the woodland once more, leaving the cursed three after it. One might wonder if it's gift was even a boon at all. »You still have to pay your part of the deal. Come, my home is not far from here, I'll brew some tea.«
»Why would you forget so quickly? Well that tree must've done a number on you. It's weeding my garden« Sue Slowly began to walk towards her small homestead through thick woods and animal-treaded paths. »And? What did you see,«
He thought about what she said, and took the staff off of his back to observe it as they walked. Strange, it had changed quite substantially from the time he had first grasped it; the blue cracks in between now formed strange symbols and shapes across it's heft, stood against the chalk white of the wood. Stranger still, the head of the staff had formed a circular shape, most likely to harbour some sort of crystal.
"Ornate is a good word for it. I hope it does it's job well."
Another thing he'd noticed, the voices in his head had grown silent. Usually, the never-ending cacophony of sound haunted him every day, but the voices hadn't made themselves known. He still wasn't sure what road that tree has sent him down, but he's liking the silence.
The witch chuckled, but said nothing. That was apparent enough that the forest that opned before them was her own.
Usually most came through her front yard, but this time around the backside of her house was shown. The folliage here was covered in thick plants but still the floor is covered in cirular runes drawn in colourful chalk which resonated with magic.
At the end of the lay a flat altar which was currently empty. Finally the baskside of the house was seen.
It was pretty horrible in appearance. the location of windows was arbitrary and it was hard to guess just how many floors there were to it.
It was clear to him now where they were. It looked like the home of a Witch of Wizard; strangely placed, with odd choices for furniture and windows. The altar floor was covered in round runes, very similar to those he had seen before, with small alterations or nuances.
»A secluded place is best.« The witch would open the back door and nod to let him in.
the inside of the house had a low, crosshatched ceiling, from it hung poppets, fetishes and various talismans. Some violently rumbled as Maho came antered. The witch would tilt her head slightly.
»Have you heard of this? Hell is made of other people.«
As he entered, the lowness of the Ceiling was evident, as several small talismans knocked into his head, bouncing off of it. Several of the oddities that hung from the ceiling began to violently shudder and shake as he entered, and it was almost as if they were looking at him, knowing what he'd done.
Sparhawk was shocked by the fire in the corner, which was seemingly screaming at them both, talking to the Witch. He'd seen spirits caught in similar situations before, but never as a fire. It seemed curious that she'd keep something like that here.
»MY NAME... IS ARDOMMA,« the demon spoke with a donning voice. »THE GRANDEST, MOST POWERFUL DEMON OF THE FIREPITS.«
In them ean time the witch meandered towards her rocking chair, sitting down and the cat jumping on her lap. A brief respite came as needed. »Ardomma is my stove demon, Ardomma can't hurt you. what tea flavour would you want?.«
The witch patted the cat off. The creature scuttling off onto a table before ending up on a higher shelf. »Elderflower? Yes. Ardomma, heat up some water.« Her voice was a little strained as she stood up, picking up some herbs from her shelf before walking over and setting a kettle over her demon.
In the mean time she wrapped up the herbs in a small cloth mesh.