Cordelia Goode stood at the edge of the ancient forest, her hands trembling slightly as she tightened her grip on her staff. The sky was a bruised purple, storm clouds swirling above, but it wasn't the storm that unsettled her. It was the ominous pull of magic, the energy radiating from deep within the woods, where they would find the source of all their trouble.

Beside her, Myrtle Snow adjusted her scarlet gloves, her fiery red hair catching the dying light. "This place reeks of danger, Cordelia. But that's never stopped us before, has it?"

Cordelia gave her a tight smile, her heart heavy with the responsibility that had weighed on her since becoming the Supreme. "No, it hasn't. But I'm worried about what we'll find this time."

Myrtle's sharp eyes softened, just a fraction. "We've faced the end of the world and survived. Whatever darkness lies ahead, we'll conquer it."

The forest called to them, its ancient magic tugging like invisible threads around Cordelia's heart, much like the lyrics of Taylor Swift's "willow": "Wherever you stray, I follow..." It reminded her of her duty, of the connection she shared with her sisters, the coven she had vowed to protect. And this time, their enemies were not just from the outside world—they were threats that had seeped into their very own.

Behind them, the rest of the witches stood ready, each one a powerhouse in her own right. Madison Montgomery, as always, was impatient, tapping her foot and rolling her eyes. "Are we going to stand here staring at trees all night or actually do something? You know, like kick some ass?"

Cordelia shot her a warning glance, though there was a trace of affection in her eyes. Madison had always been difficult, but Cordelia knew that she, like the others, would fight with everything she had when the moment called for it.

Mallory, quiet and contemplative, stood a few paces away, her fingers lightly brushing the leaves of a nearby willow tree. The youngest and most powerful of them all, she seemed connected to the very earth beneath them. "The magic here is old," she whispered, her voice thoughtful. "It's trying to lead us somewhere."

Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt looked less than thrilled as she adjusted her designer coat, muttering under her breath. "I didn't sign up for another one of these apocalyptic excursions. I just got my nails done."

Queenie laughed, nudging her. "Relax, Coco. If things go south, you can always take out the bad guys with a gluten-induced coma."

Coco glared at her, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "Very funny."

Zoe Benson was the last to step forward, her dark hair catching the soft glow of the setting sun. She looked at Cordelia, her eyes full of determination. "We're ready, Supreme. Let's finish this."

Cordelia nodded, feeling the strength of her coven behind her. Together, they had faced death, destruction, and the literal end of the world. But this... this felt different. There was something more personal about the magic they were facing now, something that whispered to Cordelia in a voice only she could hear. It was a promise and a threat wrapped in one, like the delicate but dangerous entanglement of "willow"'s lyrics: "The more that you say, the less I know. Wherever you stray, I follow..."


As the witches ventured deeper into the forest, the atmosphere shifted. The trees seemed to close in around them, the path narrowing until the dense undergrowth made it difficult to see beyond a few feet ahead. Cordelia led the way, her senses heightened, her magic sparking at her fingertips. She could feel the presence of something ancient, something that had been waiting for them.

"We're getting close," Cordelia murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I can feel it too," Mallory added, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the darkness. "There's something watching us."

Before anyone could respond, a flicker of movement caught their attention. Out of the shadows stepped a figure cloaked in black, their face obscured by a hood. Cordelia's breath caught in her throat as the figure lifted their head, revealing familiar features.

Misty Day.

"Misty?" Cordelia's voice was full of disbelief as she stepped forward. "But you—"

Misty smiled softly, though there was something otherworldly about her now, something distant. "I've been waiting for you, Cordelia."

The witches stood frozen, unsure whether to feel joy or dread at Misty's sudden appearance. She had been lost to them for so long, her fate unknown after the battle against Michael Langdon. But now, here she was, standing before them in the forest, as if she had never left.

"Misty," Zoe whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "We thought you were gone."

Misty's eyes flickered with sadness. "I was. But the forest... it brought me back."

Cordelia stepped closer, her heart aching with the sight of her friend. "How? Why?"

Misty's expression darkened, and she looked past Cordelia toward the heart of the forest. "There's a force here, something older than any of us. It's been growing in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike."

Myrtle stepped forward, her voice sharp. "And what exactly is this force, Misty?"

Misty turned to her, her eyes glowing faintly with the magic of the forest. "It's the source of all magic. The original power. But it's corrupted now—twisted. It wants to consume everything, starting with the coven."

The witches exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of Misty's words settling over them like a heavy fog.

Cordelia swallowed hard, her mind racing. "We have to stop it."

Misty nodded. "But you'll need me. The forest... it's part of me now. I can guide you."

Madison crossed her arms, her tone sarcastic but tinged with genuine concern. "So, what? We're supposed to follow the creepy forest ghost and hope for the best?"

Misty shot her a smirk. "Pretty much."

Mallory stepped forward, her voice soft but determined. "We trust you, Misty. Lead the way."


The witches followed Misty deeper into the heart of the forest, where the trees grew taller and the air felt thick with magic. The ground beneath them seemed to pulse with energy, and Cordelia could feel the power growing stronger with every step they took.

Finally, they reached a clearing at the center of the woods. In the middle stood a massive tree, its bark blackened as if it had been scorched by fire. Vines twisted around its trunk, their thorns glistening like daggers in the dim light. At its base, a swirling pool of dark magic bubbled, emitting a low, ominous hum.

"This is it," Misty said, her voice barely above a whisper. "This is where it all began."

Cordelia's heart pounded in her chest as she stepped forward, her eyes fixed on the tree. She could feel the pull of the magic, its dark tendrils wrapping around her mind, whispering promises of power and destruction. But she couldn't give in. She had to protect her coven—she had to stop this.

"Stand back," Cordelia ordered, her voice firm. "I'll handle this."

But before she could take another step, the ground beneath them began to shake. The tree groaned, its branches twisting and reaching toward the sky as the dark pool at its base began to expand.

"No," Cordelia whispered, her eyes wide with fear. "It's too late."

Misty stepped beside her, her expression grim. "Not yet. There's still time."

The witches gathered around the tree, their magic sparking in the air as they prepared to face whatever came next. Cordelia could feel the power building inside her, the magic of her coven flowing through her veins.

"Together," she whispered, her voice steady. "We do this together."

And with that, the witches unleashed their power, their magic surging toward the tree in a brilliant display of light. The dark pool hissed and bubbled, fighting back with all its might, but the witches held strong. Their bond, their connection, was too powerful to break.

As the tree groaned and began to crack, Cordelia's eyes met Misty's. For the first time in a long time, she felt hope—a glimmer of light in the darkness.

"We can do this," Cordelia whispered, her voice full of determination. "We can win."

And with one final burst of magic, the tree shattered, its dark energy dissipating into the air like smoke. The ground beneath them stilled, and the air was filled with a sense of peace—a peace that had been hard-won.

The witches stood in silence for a moment, their breaths heavy, their bodies exhausted. But they had done it. They had won.

Misty turned to Cordelia, a soft smile on her lips. "I knew you could do it."

Cordelia smiled back, her heart full of gratitude and love for her coven, her family. "We did it. Together."

And as they walked back through the forest, the lyrics of "willow" echoed in Cordelia's mind: "Life was a willow, and it bent right to your wind..." They had bent, but they had not broken. And together, they would always stand strong.