A young boy with white hair and blue eyes sat perched on a tree branch, a black-rope ring hanging from his neck. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a rock.Below, near the vegetable patch, soft digging sounds echoed through the soil.
He steadied his aim, waiting.From the earth, a small figure emerged—a woodchuck.
The rodent looked around cautiously before scurrying toward a carrot patch. Thinking the coast was clear, it began to dig one up. Just as it was about to take a bite...
THUD!
A rock struck its head.
The woodchuck froze. Its tiny body trembled as it slowly turned toward the tree.
Standing there, furious, was the boy.
"I KNEW IT WAS YOU!" he shouted.
Panicked, the woodchuck flung the carrot to the ground and bolted.
"WAIT RIGHT THERE!" the boy yelled. "I knew it was you stealing the carrots, you little—!"
He grabbed more rocks, hurling them as the woodchuck screamed in terror.
Then—silence.
Both boy and rodent stopped.
Dig dig dig…
The woodchuck burrowed underground.
The boy lunged forward, trying to catch it, but it was too late. The thief had escaped yet again.
"Yo, Menma!" a voice called.
A young girl with long purple hair, wearing a black witch hat, approached.
"Come on, Mother is calling you!"
Menma, still frustrated, sighed and started walking.
The girl chuckled. "Couldn't catch the woodchuck again, huh?"
"Yeah, yeah," Menma muttered. "But he won't be coming back again."
She smirked. "I doubt that." Then, her expression turned curious. "Why do you think Mother called us? Is she sending us to Purgatory again?"
At that, Menma's mood lifted. He loved going there, even though there were many dangers lurking. As they walked, they playfully argued over who had more skeleton kills.
The village soon came into view.
A large enough village to accommodate 300 witches, who could all coexist with each other.
Made entirely of wood, most houses stood one or two stories tall.
Smoke drifted from chimneys, mixing with the scent of dried potions and burning wood.
At the very top of the village stood the Queen's residence—a grand three-story house, made with a unique white type of wood, that gave it a distinctive glowing appearance, this is also where both Menma and Lunara lived.
As they walked through the village, witches of all ages carried out their daily tasks. Some were elders, others mere children, but all wore the signature witch hat.
Despite being human, Menma was never treated as an outsider.
After all, he had lived here for eighteen years. He was as much a part of the clan as anyone else.
At first, the witches were wary of him. But as he grew, he proved to be a source of joy.
Alongside Lunara, he caused plenty of trouble in the village.
Now, as young adults, their playful rivalry continued, but they also contributed to the community in meaningful ways.
Inside the Queen's house, Annie tapped her forehead in frustration. "You're still having problems with that woodchuck?"
Menma crossed his arms. "I don't want to kill him, just scare him off. But he keeps coming back."
Annie sighed. "Well, we have bigger problems now."
She turned serious. "One of the key ingredients in our potions is skeleton bones. And as you know, skeletons only exist in Purgatory.
(Purgatory is a dangerous dimension filled with hostile creatures: skeletons, werewolves, goblins… and worst of all, the Purgatorists.)
Lunara frowned. "So how many people are going?"
"I'm sending you two," Annie said, "along with the new guardians."
The three newly chosen witches stepped forward—Saphira, Sybil, and Sylvara.
Saphyra, Sybil, and Sylvara stood together, their modern yet mystical outfits blending dark cloaks with intricate magical embroidery.
A unique tattoo, composed of elegant arcane symbols and interconnected geometric patterns, stretched from the left side of their foreheads, trailing past their eyes, down their necks, and onto their right arms.
This tattoo was their mark—the symbol of their rank as the New Guardians, an elite trio tasked with protecting the future queen.
And since Lunara was the daughter of Annie, that made her the future queen of the witches.
Menma crossed his arms, staring at Annie. "Are you seriously bringing Lunara to Purgatory? We can't risk the future queen dying over something reckless."
Annie smirked. "Well, at least she can catch a woodchuck."
Lunara rolled her eyes. "Nah, Menma's just trying to keep me here so he can increase his skeleton kill count. But I'm not letting that happen."
Then together, they approached the large, circular portal glowing with a deep red hue—the gateway to Purgatory.