In the lands of Witches.
A world where every type of witch is born—
then separated—
transported to two distinct realms:
one above,
and one below.
Let us look closer.
This was the Land of Witches, a planet wrapped in colossal, glowing rings.
Beautiful to look at.
Devastating in power.
Each ring, both ornament and omen—as gorgeous as heaven, as lethal as hell.
There were three such rings.
The first—white—belonged to the good witches.
The second—green—was ruled by the moderate witches.
The third ring—a blazing red—was ruled by the feared Crimson Witches.
It was here that two of the most notorious witches lived:
Sora and Soma.
Two sisters.
Two reflections of one dark soul.
Both had glowing crimson eyes.
Both wore scarlet masks that never left their faces.
And both had hair like liquid fire—red as spilled blood.
But only one of them—Sora—had given birth just three days ago.
A daughter.
Born into darkness.
Destined for something greater.
---
Sora and Soma sat together in a dim, shadowy chamber, seated upon twin bone-carved thrones. A magical hologram floated in the center of the room, displaying the planetary ring system they ruled.
They were discussing their future plans—of domination, of ascension—when the soft cries of the infant broke the air.
"Aww, aww… My daughter, hush now. Mother is here,"
Sora cooed gently, pulling her infant to her chest, beginning to feed her.
Just like any mother would.
Just like any human would.
But that—
that was exactly what troubled Soma.
She crossed her arms, eyes narrowing behind her mask.
"You're losing focus, sister," she said, voice stern and sharp as broken glass. "This child is a distraction from our planetary goals. I won't allow it."
The room darkened even further.
The soft red light pulsed.
The hologram flickered.
Even the air turned thick with unease.
Sora stood up slowly, her expression unreadable, "I'm leaving," she said coldly.
Soma rose too, blocking her path,"If… If you keep ignoring me…" Soma said, voice shaking with something deeper. "Then…"
"What? Speak, Soma."
Sora's tone was calm—but behind it, something ancient stirred.
"Then I will kill both of you."
The chamber fell silent.
The walls themselves seemed to tighten.
The flickering lights dimmed into an eerie glow.
The hologram froze mid-frame.
Time held its breath.
Sora trembled.
Her arms instinctively tightened around her child. She almost dropped the baby—but didn't.
She stood still. Her lips trembled, "You want to rule alone."
"No, sister. I—" Soma started, but Sora cut her off.
"Don't lie. You wanted your own children to inherit the crimson ring."
"Sora, please, you're twisting my words—"
"No. I've seen through you now." , Her voice was laced with pain, but not weakness.
"If you think my daughter is the threat… then I will send her far away.
But I will not let you kill her."
Soma stared. Her hands dropped to her sides.
"…Fine," she said quietly.
"If that is your will—then so be it.
Send her away.
But when the time is right, she shall return…
and she will inherit the Crimson Ring.
I swear this upon my witch powers."
Sora gasped.
Her breath hitched. Her heart shivered—not from sorrow, but from love.
"Sister… please! Don't! Don't take a vow upon your powers!
You know what happens to witches who break their oaths…"
Witches who broke sacred vows turned to ash in an instant.
"No," Soma replied, her tone unwavering. "I've made the vow. I will follow it. Until the end."
And at that moment—
the baby witch laughed.
A tiny, joyful laugh that echoed through the heavy silence, piercing the storm between the two sisters.
A sound of innocence.
A sound neither of them expected.
Both witches looked at her—
their shared blood.
Their shared future.
Neither of them knew what she would become.
---