Carmela Ravenwood

In the eve of the day, with dark clouds gently rolling in, Carmela, the only resident, stood at the grand center window of Ravenwood Manor. The manor loomed above the treetops like a sentinel guarding ancient secrets. Its wrought iron decorations glinted softly in the overcast, casting intricate shadows on the ground below. The manor was beautiful and a bit gothic, just like Elara. Carmela’s raven-black hair cascaded down her shoulders as she peered out into the darkness. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and wisdom beyond her years; she was no ordinary girl but instead a young witch, steeped in magic and mystery. Each day brought new adventures as she brewed potions and whispered spells that danced through the air like fireflies. The stone stairs leading from the dock to her home were worn smooth by time and tales told by those who dared to visit. They wound their way up from the water’s edge where ferries whispered secrets of distant lands and forgotten lore.