And then they were Killed
I spent an entire year offering myself up to the humans, until I finally found the one. He was the perfect human, a strong man with an even stronger standing. He would be able to provide for me, and it didn't matter that he was twice my age. Like I said, that was normal. No. What mattered was his growing suspicion of me. My beauty and wit is what let me charm him into my grasp, but because I had no hypnotism there was nothing to keep him held to my hand.
The Van Dyke's knew it before any of us, as his sister woke in the middle of the night, gasping for air. She had seen them all die. Her brother tried to convince her it was just a dream, but she knew it was more. It felt like she was there, she'd said, so her brother rode on the horse to come warn us; however, his speed was not fast enough. By the time he'd gotten there and explained everything, sounds were heard from the outside. His horse had been slayed, and we had to run for our lives.
Our human comrade was the first go, arrows flying straight at us, as we fled through the thick of the woods. I fell out of my father's arms, as we hit the ground. Both of my parents layed there, dead, and I knew I could not make a sound. I covered my mouth, attempting not to breathe, as we hid behind the brush. The soldiers rushed past, and after the dead of night dissipated and the sun rose I held onto my parents' prized possession, that green stone, before I ran back to the farm. The seer was downdraught, but at the sight of me she attempted to smile. She let me in, hugged me, and kept me safe. I would spend many, many years with her and her new family.
So, what's the moral of the story? That's right. You must never trust a human, and because the Van Dyke witches saved me, you must always respect witches and their power.