Pendle Hill, Lancashire
Year 1600
“Elder Agatha!” A woman burst into the hut, breathless and pale. “They’ve been hanged!” she cried.
The old woman shut her eyes tightly upon hearing the news. “How many?”
“Three... and five other innocent women,” the woman said grimly. “It was only the other day when we lost two from the coven.”
A knock on the wooden door disrupted them. They exchanged a tense glance and fell silent. The younger woman trembled in fear, worried the guards had found them at last.
Agatha slowly approached the door. When she opened it, a group of women in black hoods stood drenched in rain. The one at the front lowered her hood.
“Agatha.”
“Sister!” Agatha pulled her into an embrace, relief softening her face.
“Come in,” she whispered, guiding them inside while scanning the surroundings before shutting the door.
Once inside, the women removed their hoods, revealing five young women, all wounded with clear signs of torture marked their bodies.
Agatha’s sister looked at them with pity, then faced Agatha. “We thought we were safe in Bury… but a married noble took a liking to my granddaughter, Catherine. His wife grew jealous and began investigating her. She accused her of bewitching her husband,” she cried. Agatha held her tightly.
“Catherine didn’t even like the man. When she rejected him, he used it as an excuse to order her arrest along with the other girls. It was too late when I arrived. I was only able to save these few.” Her voice broke. “Catherine didn’t survive the torture.”
“Elder, what should we do know? We thought it was safe in Bury, but that’s no longer the case. Staying here is also dangerous.”
Agatha thought carefully and made a bold decision.
“I shall seek for the Tree of Life.”
All of them looked at her in surprise and with doubt.
“We don’t know where it is located. How will you find it?” Agatha’s sister said.
“I have some places in mind,” Agatha looked at all of them. “But I have to go there alone.”
The witches looked worried.
“Thirteen days,” Agatha continued. “If I do not return by then...” She looked at her sister. “Leave this place. Go far, far away somewhere you no longer need to hide. Until then, do not get caught.”
Her sister squeezed her hand. “Very well.”
Agatha left at dawn. For days she traveled, searching every sacred place she knew, praying nightly beneath the moon to be guided.
By the thirteenth night, she had found nothing. Exhausted and disappointed, she began to draw a spell circle, begging the spirits for direction.
As she drew her circle, two patrolling soldiers spotted her.
“You there!” one barked. “State your name!” They approached with suspicion and attempted to arrest her.
Agatha fled deeper into the forest, but her age slowed her. The soldiers began to catch up, until a thick fog rolled in, swallowing the woods and clouding their vision.
“In here.”
Agatha heard a voice. Ahead, a faint light flickered within the fog. She followed it, and when she emerged from the mist, a massive tree stood before her.
Flowers bloomed around it, and fireflies drifted like tiny stars despite the dead chill of winter. A child peeked from behind the tree.
“I heard you calling every night,” the child said.
“Is this...” Agatha looked up at the towering trunk in awe.
“The Tree of Life,” the child answered.
Agatha bowed deeply. “Oh, Tree of Life, I seek your-”
“I am not the Tree of Life,” the child interrupted gently. “I am its guardian. But I heard your prayers and carried them to the tree.”
The child stepped forward and touched her shoulder. “The Tree has decided to help you. Bring your people here on the day of the New Moon.”
Agatha blinked and found herself at the foot of the mountain, dawn breaking over the horizon. Without hesitation, she rushed back to Pendle Hill.
To her surprise, a crowd awaited her.
“Agatha!” Her sister rushed to her side.
“What are all these people doing here?”
Two women stepped forward.
“We are a coven from Rome,” one said.
“And I am from Scotland,” the other added. “We sought refuge here in England, but we did not expect the persecution to be just as cruel.”
“We heard you went looking for the Tree of Life,” said the Roman witch. “Did you find it?”
Agatha met their anxious eyes.
“Yes. I found it.”
Their faces lit with hope. Agatha raised her voice.
“We must leave at once,” Agatha said, raising her voice so all could hear. “Three days remain before the New Moon. Gather only what you need.”
As they packed, a group of townspeople arrived with guards among them.
The witches stiffened.
Agatha stepped forward. “How may I help you?”
A woman stepped ahead, anxiety carved into her face. “Please... can we come with you?”
Agatha glanced cautiously at the guards. “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she answered, pretending ignorance.
“We overheard your people speaking of it days ago,” the woman said. “Please... we are not here to harm you.”
She looked back at the guards. “Neither are they. We just don’t want our children, daughters, or wives to be killed unjustly.” She fell to her knees. The guards behind her did the same.
Agatha looked back at her witches. Some nodded. Others shook their heads. But Agatha made her choice.
She chose compassion.
“Gather your things,” she told the townsfolk. “You may come.”
Together they journeyed to the forest. The same fog rose, thick and silent, guiding them to the sacred tree.
Everyone gasped upon seeing it. The guardian appeared.
“I will open a portal,” the child said, “to a world untouched by cruelty. Live well there. Let fear never rule you again.”
A portal blossomed from the heart of the tree.
One by one, they stepped through.
What awaited them was a realm untouched by human hands - vast, fertile, shimmering with life.
“Do you feel it?” Agatha’s sister breathed.
“Yes,” Agatha breathed in deeply. “This world is brimming with energy.”
In this new world, they began anew. Guided by the witches’ wisdom, the people learned to heal, to nurture the land, and to wield nature’s power with reverence.
The small sanctuary grew into a thriving community. After centuries, it became a great kingdom.
But peace is a fragile thing.
Fear crept into the heart of the king. He looked upon the witches not as guardians, but threats. Distrust rotted into hatred.
The purge began.
One by one, the witches fell. And with them vanished the memory of their gifts, their gentleness, their sacrifice.
Thus the Old World was buried. Its wonders lost, its stories forgotten, its truth swallowed by silence.
The New World Year 1800
Yamma, the capital of Vestur Empire
Knock knock.
"Your Imperial Highness, it is time to proceed to the Great Hall."
"And our guest?"
"Her Highness, Princess Elery, has already arrived," the grand chamberlain replied with a respectful bow.
Prince Caleb gave a final glance in the mirror, adjusting his collar before making his way out of the room. As he entered the grand hall, two figures rose from their seats to greet him.
"Greetings to Your Imperial Highness, Crown Prince Caleb," they said in unison.
"Greetings to you as well, Your Highness Princess Elery, and Lord Rue Mallory," Caleb replied warmly.
He stepped forward and embraced the young lord, a genuine smile forming on his lips. It had been far too long since he had last seen his half-brother, and the reunion stirred a quiet joy in his chest.
“I’m glad to see you again, brother,” Caleb said, his voice warm with affection.
“Likewise, Your Imperial Highness,” Rue replied with a respectful nod.
“You’re being too formal again,” Caleb sighed. “I told you—you should just call me ‘brother.’”
Rue offered a faint smile. “I’m afraid I can’t do that in front of your guest.”
The crown prince let out a soft breath of resignation. His brother’s sense of propriety was as unwavering as ever.
Turning to the princess, Caleb offered a courteous smile. “How was your stay, Your Highness?”
“It has been very pleasant,” Princess Elery replied with grace. “The grand chamberlain has seen to all my needs quite attentively.”
“Announcing the arrival of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Willard, and Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Adina!”
All eyes turned toward the entrance as the emperor and empress stepped into the hall.
Though both in their mid-forties, their presence remained commanding, radiating strength, authority, and grace.
As the couple took their seats, the servants began to serve breakfast. The atmosphere, however, subtly shifted when the empress’s gaze fell upon one of the guests.
Her brows drew together slightly. “May I ask what brings you here, Lord Marquess?” she said, her tone cool and formal.
“I invited him,” the emperor interjected calmly. “After reading his most recent report. Given that his territory borders the Kingdom of Dostani, I believe his findings may be connected to Princess Elery’s investigation.”
“And what is this report about?” asked Crown Prince Caleb, now fully attentive.
Lord Rue Mallory stood, his expression grave. “Two weeks ago, the daughter of Viscount Kenthel went missing. We conducted an extensive search and eventually found her body near a cave in the Labyrinthine Forest, alongside several others. Some were identified as citizens of the Dostani Kingdom and the Kouzlo Duchy. Their bodies were burned, but not by fire or magic. There were cracks along their skin, as if they had been split open from within. Whatever caused it, it’s unlike anything we’ve ever seen.”
The emperor turned to the princess. “Do you believe this could be related to the case you are currently investigating?”
“There is a strong possibility, Your Imperial Majesty,” Princess Elery replied, her voice steady.
“If my suspicions are correct, then the group we’ve been tracking may be tied to these deaths. If I could examine the bodies myself, it may provide the answers we need.”
The emperor leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled as he fell into thought. “Hmm…”
“Then we shall proceed with a joint investigation,” the emperor declared. “Given that there were victims from the Kouzlo Duchy, it would be wise to involve them as well.”
The empress’s expression remained composed, but behind her calm gaze, she quickly discerned the emperor’s underlying intent.
This mission would not only serve the Empire's interests but also provide the young Marquess with valuable diplomatic ties to two neighboring nations, something she was not eager to encourage.
“Perhaps it would be better to entrust the matter to the crown prince, as part of his training,” she suggested smoothly.
“The crown prince still has responsibilities to fulfill,” the emperor replied without missing a beat. “He has yet to complete his current assignments.”
“But- ”
“Father is right, Mother,” Caleb interjected gently but firmly. “I took a leave from the academy to assist with imperial duties, and my schedule is already full. Besides,” he added with a faint smile toward Rue, “I have full confidence that Lord Mallory is more than capable of leading this investigation.”
“If it is His Imperial Majesty’s will,” Rue said with a solemn nod, “then I shall devote myself fully to this task.”
“Very well,” the emperor concluded. “I will have a letter sent to Duke Velemont to inform him of our arrival. And before your departure, Lord Mallory, I would like to speak with you privately.”
“Of course, Your Imperial Majesty,” the marquess replied with a respectful bow.
At that moment, the grand chamberlain entered the hall. He offered a deep bow to the imperial family before stepping close to the emperor, leaning in to whisper something in his ear. The chamberlain’s face was taut with concern.
The emperor’s expression darkened at the words. Without hesitation, he stood. “I’m afraid I must excuse myself something urgent requires my immediate attention,” he announced, his tone grave.
As the emperor departed, a brief silence settled over the hall. The empress’s gaze shifted toward the marquess, her voice cutting through the air with veiled contempt.
“There is only one person who could cause such a reaction from His Imperial Majesty... It must be that insufferable charlatan,” she said, her words laced with bitterness and scorn.
“Mother, please,” the crown prince interjected gently, placing a hand over hers to stop her from saying more.
The empress exhaled sharply. “I’ve lost my appetite. I shall take my meal in my quarters.” With a cold glance, she stood and exited the hall, her ladies-in-waiting gliding behind her.
“I must apologize,” the prince said after a pause, turning to Princess Elery and Lord Mallory. “The empress isn’t usually like this. Her duties have been... overwhelming lately.”
“Please think nothing of it, Your Imperial Highness,” the princess replied with a gracious smile. “It’s entirely understandable.”
“Thank you,” Caleb said with a slight bow. “I should go and check on her. Please forgive me for leaving early.”
“Of course, my lord prince,” said the marquess, nodding. “I shall keep the princess company in the meantime.”
Caleb offered a grateful smile. “Thank you.” With that, he turned and left the hall to follow the empress.
Once the prince had gone, Princess Elery turned to the marquess. “If I may ask, my lord - when would it be possible to examine the bodies? I would like to move swiftly, so as not to cause further worry for my mother.”
“It will take about a week to reach the march,” Rue replied. “We can depart tomorrow morning, if that suits you. I imagine you’ll need time to prepare.”
“That would be perfect,” the princess said with a nod, her expression resolute.
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