I decided to make another chain story because I simply love this idea.

Let´s have a bit „different rules“ in this one. Everyone can make 3–5 sentences.

One more thing. I think in this case let´s not copy the previous sentences. We could get into trouble reaching some word limit for a message.

Why not, but you should start

Once upon a time there was a very old witch. She lived in a small shabby house which was even older than herself, far away from any civilisation. The witch could do all sorts of tricks and magic spells imaginable but the problem was she never did exactly what she was intedning to. So it became a common practice that instead of summoning some food she created a beehive, instead of making a nice handsome prince, she went for an ugly-faced dwarf and so on. She somehow always got the spells wrong.

Once upon a time there was a very old witch. She lived in a small shabby house which was even older than herself, far away from any civilisation. The witch could do all sorts of tricks and magic spells imaginable but the problem was she never did exactly what she was intedning to. So it became a common practice that instead of summoning some food she created a beehive, instead of making a nice handsome prince, she went for an ugly-faced dwarf and so on. She somehow always got the spells wrong. Again, again and again.She was always changing her wands for new ones, but nothing changed. Actually, she was absolutely unable to cast any spell in the right way.But one day she came up with a amazing idea. She enroled herself to six month course at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

First day at school was a bit of a shocking experience for her. First thing in the morning she was called to the headmaster´s office right away. Dumbledore tried hard to break her the unfortunate news thoughtfully: „Listen, I regret to announce this but there must have been sort of an error with accepting you at our school. Look, the school is just for the young folks like Harry Potter, Rákosníček, Saxána, not for Gandalfs like you, seemingly hundred years older than myself.“

The old witch left the school and came back home. She was very sad, cried almost all week. Suddenly, a strange man appeared there. He asked „My name is Storm. Can I help you?“

The witch looked up startled. She saw a long-haired guy of about thirty with eyes reflecting moonlight (for it was night then). He gave her a wide smile.

„You are my last chance,“ the witch replied. However, she got the answer she had never expected. „It would be best if you just… gave up. Nothing good has ever come from your witchcraft… or if we can call it that.“

The poor old witch burst into tears. “I can't give it up. It's my life. I am a witch!” “Are you sure?”, asked Storm and gave a mischievous smile.

“What else would I be then? And, anyway, who the hell are you to tell me such bloody crap?” she asked angrily. “Well, I was supposed to give you a piece of advice, as The Second Prophecy says,” answered Storm, suddenly pissed off with her behavior. “And here it goes: ‘The time has come for you to look for your true path’,” he spitted the words at the poor old witch and stormed off. And she sat there, taken aback by his last words still ringing in her ears.

Although she was sad, she felt a new energy growing inside her. Maybe there is another path for her after all. She went out to look for inspiration.