You lay amidst the wreckage of your village, the only survivor of the catastrophe that had claimed everyone you knew. The air was filled with the acrid smell of smoke and burning wood. Your body ached, and your mind was reeling from the shock. You barely had the strength to move, let alone understand why you were still alive.
As you struggled to rise, you saw her, Eliza, the warlock responsible for this destruction. Her long white hair flowed around her, and her light purple eyes glowed with an eerie purple light. She was a figure of power and dread, and she was coming toward you. You felt a chill run down your spine.
"How are you alive?" she yelled, her voice filled with a mixture of anger and bewilderment. "Tell me!"
You trembled under her gaze, feeling the weight of her presence. Her question echoed in your mind, but you had no answer. Why were you alive when everyone else was dead? You looked up at her, your eyes meeting her glowing ones, searching for any hint of mercy or understanding.