"I am not a witch," she said. "Nor a healer. I am a listener. A listener to the land, to the ancient secrets that lie beneath our feet. This village has a history, one that has been buried for too long. I have come to unravel the threads of the past, to bring balance to the present."
And Tana, well, she continued to tend her garden, to walk the coastline, and to listen to the land. For in its rhythms and secrets, she had found her own sense of purpose, her own magic. tana lea
As time passed, strange things began to happen in Brindlemark. Tools would go missing, only to reappear in odd places. Food would spoil, as if someone had tampered with the root cellar. And then, there were the dreams. Vivid, disturbing dreams that seemed to seep into the minds of the villagers, leaving them feeling unsettled and on edge. "I am not a witch," she said