In the shadow of the mighty mountain herself lies the small village of Isagene. Backed up against The Range, it is a human village just big enough to have it’s own market. While it runs every day, the farmers on the outskirts of town would visit once a week, bringing their haul and trading goods. But there was one who never came to town, and instead, the town came to her.
Nestled in the edge of the forest by the Range sits a quaint home with a flourishing garden. It seems well kept. The candle in the window notifies the townsfolk when she is home. She wasn’t old by any means, but even still the people of the village called her Gran’ma Luna. Newcomers would spread whispers about her witchcraft, saying it is rooted in evil and should be cleansed. Those who resided in the village brushed it off, knowing the power of her medicine and herbalism is the only thing keeping them safe from sickness and plague. “Go to Gran’ma Luna if you have ailment.”
Luna hums her familiar tune while tending to her garden, snipping sage leaves and harvesting tomatoes. She puts them in her woven basket gifted by one of the children during a visit. A smile brushes across her face at the memory. Parents would send their children over to her hut for stories and snack time before they returned to their chores. One in particular was learning from her mother how to weave and made the basket for Luna. The little lady’s face lit up when Luna thanked her and kissed her forehead. Tomatoes and sage finally gathered, Luna took them inside to be cleaned and properly stored. Having her own garden allowed for her to remain at her home, should anyone arrive in need of help.
Her seclusion is not unwarranted, for if the villagers knew she was more than what meets the eye, they may actually suspect witchcraft.