As Meera and Amma ventured deeper into the heart of the witchwood, they could feel the weight of its ancient enchantment hanging in the air. The silence was broken only by the occasional hoot of an owl or the rustle of leaves under their cautious footsteps. In the midst of their journey, a soft breeze whispered through the dense foliage, carrying with it a hint of otherworldly magic. Meera's senses heightened, and she felt a presence drawing near. Then, before her eyes, a figure materialized—a spectral guardian named Aakash, his form bathed in a gentle, ethereal glow. Aakash's voice echoed