Under a moonlight night sky, the witch Argone rose above the clouds in a flash of green light, her broom slicing through the cold winds as stars shimmered around her. In one hand she gripped the polished handle of her broom, and in the other she held an ancient spellbook whose pages turned by unseen magic. Hovering high above the sleeping world, she chanted forbidden words from its weathered pages. Dark currents twisted across the heavens, gathering into a monstrous storm of black wings and shadow. With a final spell, she unleashed the dreaded Ravenstorm, and countless spectral ravens poured from the sky, swooping down upon the city below. Their cries echoed through the streets as darkness swallowed the lantern light and panic spread among the people. Chaos reigned beneath the storm as rooftops rattled, harvest stores were scattered, and fearful citizens fled for shelter. Watching from above, Argone showed no mercy. Her purpose had been fulfilled. Turning her broom toward the horizon, she soared away from the city while the Ravenstorm continued its terrible work. The witch disappeared into the night, leaving only black feathers drifting through the air. Across the land, whispers spread that the Days of Darkness had begun, marking the end of the harvest season and the arrival of a grim age. Far beyond the storm clouds, Argone smiled as terror took root in every village, knowing her name would be feared long after the ravens had vanished from the sky.