The witch rode out into the center of the lake behind her cabin. The setting sun was already leaving streaks of gold in the black water.
She took up The Instrument, as her grandfather called it. It was not unlike a violin, and it made the sweetest music she’d ever heard.
She passed the bow over the strings, and soft, silver light glittered overhead. She began in earnest. The stars burst forth in the darkness, shining brightly.
The witch knew it was time to take on an apprentice. But she didn’t want to give up playing the stars into being.

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