Steel flashed before my chest, stopping just short. The werewolf circled back for another charge, his dark-gray fur bristling, long metal claws strapped to his forearms. My heart stumbled as I recognized his eyes.
Couldn’t they have sent someone else…?
He’d pulled back his blow; otherwise, I'd be bleeding out on the snow. But I couldn't count on him hesitating again, and I only had mana left for one spell.
The saddle shook beneath me as Predslava slammed her paws into the ground. “We gotta do something, Kat! Decide!”
I glanced into the distance as the enemy charged my army, then back at the werewolf as he lunged for the only neck I had.
Had I not quit my job in Vesmeria, none of this would be happening, and I wouldn’t need to choose, but…
This was my duty as a ruler.
Ice crystals crackled along my staff.
“Worldeater’s—”
Dominion of Vesmeria, Coven Demesne
Four years earlier
Well-dressed burghers strolled the breezy cobbled streets, arm in arm with a lover or tipsy from the tavern. The citadel’s white stone walls glimmered under the moonlight. It was just another pleasant evening in the Capital of Sorcery when a crimson comet bled across the sky.
Doors flew open below as people flooded the streets in their nightclothes to see it. The giant telescope above the Palace of Sorcery swept wide after the celestial omen.
I lowered my frozen chalice to the windowsill in disbelief.
A True Dragon is born.
Chains groaned as the drawbridge that led to the Palace began to rise. The commonfolk gathered at the edge of the moat, demanding an explanation from the Observatory.
Guards in shiny armor appeared over the battlements.
“The Coven shall address you in the morning!” their captain said. “Go home!”
At first apprehensive, the crowd began to disperse. But I knew nobody would sleep soundly that night.
White wine spilled at the corner of my mouth as I emptied the chalice. I went to lie down, bracing myself for a long day of work at the Palace.
Snowflakes crackled along my body as I conjured my working gown: long sleeves, a high collar, and ice-white fabric. The Coven required us to dress formally in public at all times—I had no qualms.
I nodded to the mirror, then snapped my fingers. It liquefied, collapsing on the basin below with a splash.
“We ought to hurry, Predslava. I can already hear shouting…” I scanned the room but couldn’t find her or my office hat anywhere. “Have you seen my hat?”
“On it!” Utensils flew out of the closet in the next room. “I put it away last night to dust the furniture. These human dwellings get so dirty!”
I tapped my fingers anxiously as the noise outside intensified. “I like to think the proximity helps me do a better job. We’d be isolated from the people if we stayed in the Palace—”
“Found it!” She came flying toward me—a little ball of white fur wearing the oversized witch hat herself.
I took it from her as she hopped on my shoulder. “Thank you.”
The hat was the Coven’s uniform, strictly assigned by rank; we weren’t allowed to conjure our own. Mine was gray, as befitting the Season Witches.
“Do you think this comet is the real deal, Katarina?” Predslava asked.
I pursed my lips. “My gut says so, unfortunately.”
She shivered. “Scary.”
“It’s not the end of the world if we play our cards right.” I put on my hat and climbed down the stairs. “Ready?”
“Witches first.”
Voices burst into the living room as I opened the door. The townsfolk came running toward me with questions.
“Is trade between cities shutting down?”
“Should we expect rationing in the citadel?”
“Are we truly safe behind the walls?!”
The questions blurred into an unintelligible cacophony.
“I’m not allowed to make any official statements on my own; I’m sorry.” I walked towards the palace.
“This is bad, Katarina,” Predslava whispered. “The mob is following us…”
“We can’t risk sowing confusion in the streets, Predslava. Just smile and wave for now.”
“Okay.” A white claw popped out of her fur. She waved at them until we arrived at the raised drawbridge.
A bored witch leaned on the battlements above, messy orange hair crawling out of her gray hat like tongues of fire.
“Roses are red, green is the grass—” She grinned. “Give me the password, and I'll let you pass!”
I gave her a sheepish smile. “There’s no password, Summer.”
Her name was Chloe, but we called each other by our sorcerous affinity out of professional respect.
“Just say something!” she protested. “Warm up a little, would ya’?”
“Please…?”
Her glowing eyes rolled. “Boring.”
The wooden drawbridge lowered ahead with groans. Chloe climbed down the walls and joined us as we went inside, whistling a tune with hands behind her head.
The great hall was already buzzing with witches. Autumn and Spring waited near the arched entrance. We approached them.
“Did the Observatory give a verdict already?” I asked.
Hazel, the Autumn witch, blinked slowly. Dark bags hung under her eyes. “Not yet.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you came, Winter!” Iris, Spring, snatched me in an unprompted hug, smothering me in her fragrant pink hair. “This is such a stressful time for us all!”
“My clothes,” I said, gasping for air. “You’re going to wrinkle them.”
“I’m so sorry!” Spring broke into sobs as she let me go. “Please don’t hate me!”
“Shhh…” Hazel patted her head. “It’s not that deep.”
I scratched my forehead, unsure what to say.
The hall fell quiet. Footsteps echoed across the room. A short, hunchbacked figure in dark robes descended the stairs and approached the Witch of Dusk in silence. Long-limbed, she bent over to hear the Oracle’s whispers.
Her delicate pale features tensed under the purple hat.
“It’s on, ladies.” Dusk swiveled to us, black lace lashing around her like tarry spiderwebs. “The True Dragon lives.”
“Oh, woe is me!” Iris fainted on the spot.
“Oops.” Hazel caught her midfall.
Now there’s no hiding the truth. The people will find out sooner or later.
The blue-hat Tidal Witches, a rank above us, argued heatedly among themselves:
“Do we tell the public?”
“No way. They are going to riot for sure.”
“We’ll have to take a stance, though!”
Everyone turned as the Witch of Dawn tapped her staff against the floor. Her long, radiant hair fell like golden curtains, her eyes hidden behind them for our own safety—staring at them was like embracing the sun, or so they said.
“Fear not, my dear sisters,” she said. “I’ll address the people and buy us time to deal with this crisis at our own pace.”
The witches nodded in agreement. Not even Dusk would question the greatest witch who ever lived, for when she spoke, doubt itself seemed to leave the room.
But my cold heart still harbored reservations.
I raised my hand hesitantly. “If I may…”
Dawn nodded. “Yes, sister?”
“I believe… we should tell them the truth,” I said.
“Is that so?”
“It’s highly likely that Draconia is crowning the newborn as their emperor as we speak. We risk losing the people’s trust if they find this out through other means.”
The witches whispered.
Dawn raised her hand, urging silence once again, then smiled. “Your insight is much appreciated, Winter. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“That’s my snow cone.” Chloe wrapped her arm around my back with a proud grin. “Always thinking.”
The Coven nodded approvingly.
I blushed behind my collar. “T-thank you…”
The sky cleared as we gathered outside later that day. People came from all over the countryside to hear the speech, packing the streets.
The whole citadel fell quiet as Dawn appeared on the balcony above the great hall.
“Dear citizens, the Observatory has spoken!” she began.
Townsfolk clutched each other’s arms.
“The crimson comet you saw last night bears no ill omen.”
What?
I leaned forward, unsure if I heard it right.
A familiar smile appeared on Dawn’s serene face. “No True Dragon has risen—the Dominion of Vesmeria remains safe beneath the Coven’s watch. Fear not.”
“Uh-oh…” Hazel muttered. “She’s doing the thing.”
I stared blankly at the ground as the streets erupted in cheers. “She didn’t even flinch…”
The plan turned out stupidly simple: Dawn hoped to liquidate the Coven’s many physical assets across the realm—mines, villas, farmland, etc.—before a potential war devalued them, leaving Vesmeria to burn while we sat comfortably on a mountain of gold.
But unfortunately for her, the lie didn’t last a week.
The realm's magnates noticed the rushed sale of Coven properties and followed suit; the merchants noticed the magnates, and from there it snowballed until the common people began to raise the question:
Why is everyone selling their house and underwear for gold?
Naturally, every finger pointed at us.
We locked ourselves in the conference room, arguing for hours at the massive round table in the center.
“We’re screwed!” Dusk raged across the room. “We don’t even have enough gold to hire mercenaries if the rabble decides to burn us at the stake!”
“We still have the palace guards if it comes down to it,” Dawn said. “They’d give their lives for the Coven.”
“Aye.” The witches nodded in agreement.
I wiped my sweaty forehead.
Are we seriously considering civil war now?
“We need to make sure they are paid well at least,” a Tidal witch said. “But how?”
“Don’t forget to expel all the foreigners from the citadel just in case. I don’t want to get stabbed in my sleep.”
“What if we confiscate the foreigners’ assets? This way we can pay the guards and get rid of them.”
What?
They exchanged looks and said in unison, “Aye!”
Chloe chuckled. “Get a load of these guys.”
“Can we wrap this up already?” Hazel dropped her head on the table.
Iris tugged at my sleeve, about to cry. “Why is everyone so agitated today?”
My head spun in hot circles.
“Wait.” I lifted my hand. “Wait a second, please.”
The witches turned to me.
“What is it now, Winter?” Dawn asked, her gentle tone turned disdainful.
I pulled at my collar. “This all started because we refused to face the Draconian question head-on. What if we just… do that instead?”
Dusk crossed her arms. “How?”
“The people don’t hate us; they are just afraid. If we ensure lasting peace between the dragons and us, they’re sure to calm down and perhaps even forgive us for this… misunderstanding.”
Dawn shook her head. “There’s no way we can guarantee peace between our realms, which is why I devised my plan in the first place.”
“Winter may be right.” Dusk held her chin pensively. “This is our only shot at salvaging the situation.”
“Thank you.” I sighed in relief. “I’ll assemble a diplomatic mission for Draconia as soon as possible. We just need to decide our budget.”
“You want to give them tribute?!” Dusk’s eyes widened. “Out of the question. What would our vassals think?”
“That we are weak and desperate, that’s what they’ll think.” Dawn scoffed. “What do you want us to do next? Swear fealty to the dragon emperor?”
Dusk waved dismissively. “We’re going to keep them tame in another way—the Coven way.”
“Interesting.” Dawn’s fingertips tapped the table excitedly. “A show of force?”
“Call our vassals to arms.” Dusk’s black lips curled in a wicked grin. “We didn’t conquer Vesmeria by distributing ‘gifts’, did we?”
“W-who is even leading this ‘parade’?” I asked.
Blood drained from my head as Dusk raised a finger toward me, but then swept her hand to the right. “You, Summer.”
The witches turned to Chloe.
“Me?” she asked, pointing to herself obliviously.
“No one better for the job than our Witch o' War,” Dawn said.
“That’s me!” Chloe sprang to her feet. “I’m the Witch o' War.”
This is madness.
Tens of thousands of knights and their retinue camped outside the walls in a sea of colorful banners. Alongside them, makeshift tents piled on top of each other less gloriously—people who took the brunt of Dawn’s financial scheme.
I took it upon myself to aid them; with the help of my personal guard, we set up food stalls along the sprawling refuge camp. Long lines soon formed.
“I’m out of cabbage, Katarina!” Predslava cried out from her stall. “These humans eat too much.”
“Shhh! Don’t say that.” I handed an elderly farmer a steaming bowl with a sheepish smile. “Here. I’m sorry.”
The army stood at attention as a blazing figure rode out of the gates, accompanied by her own detachment of shiny guards.
I waved to one of my helpers, then ran off to speak to Chloe. “Chlo— I mean, Summer!”
“Turning around!” She wheeled her horse toward me, looking like a proper general in the saddle. “Sup?”
I inspected the army behind her. “Are you sure you’re fine with this?”
“Why not? This isn’t my first rodeo.” She placed her hands on her hips and gave me a sassy grin. “Are you worried about me or something?”
“Just… don’t do anything reckless. Let the dragons see you and come back.”
“Silly.” A fireball perked up on top of her hand. “They call me the Witch o' War for a reason.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Take care of yourself, alright?”
“Warm up, snow cone.” She trotted off, setting the army in motion. “I’ll be back in time to try this soup of yours.”
I shook my head and went back to work.
Messengers arrived at the citadel every few days with news from Chloe’s army until they stopped arriving entirely.
The witches gathered in the great hall. After hours of deliberation, the Coven decided to send a second army to go after Chloe. But the gates flew open before Dawn could tap her staff again.
A breathless knight covered in bloody rags dismounted inside the hall, then dropped to his knees.
“Chloe…?” I asked.
He pulled a blood-stained gray hat from his bag, and in that moment I knew:
My best friend was dead.
Spring, Autumn, the Tidal Witches—the whole room erupted in a wide range of emotions.
Dusk strode toward him. “What of the army?!”
“Dead or routed, Your Grace,” the knight said. “They ambushed us in the mountains. Only a few managed to escape.”
I heard little of the rest.
Summer was gone, the capital was placed under martial law, our remaining vassals rebelled soon after word of our crushing defeat spread, and Vesmeria was on the brink of collapse.
But I still had a job to do, or so I thought.
I stared at the round table as the witches chattered and Hazel comforted Iris beside me.
“Demands…” Dusk tapped her long fingers against the wood. “They dare make demands of us. Sheer hubris.”
“We can just take their lands and make new vassals,” Dawn said. “Who doesn’t want to become a Baron these days?”
A Tidal witch raised her hand. “I want a castle!”
They began to bicker over castles on the map as if they already held them all…
“Let them go,” I said with a pleading smile. “Give our vassals the independence they seek and let us become a city-state—”
“Enough!” Dusk slammed the table. “I’m tired of your incessant nagging, Katarina!”
An awkward silence washed over the room.
Nagging…?
Getting my proposal rejected stung less than this. At least they’d engaged with my point before.
They went back to discussing ways to tear Vesmeria apart as I retreated to my thoughts.
That's not how I remembered the Coven. Our hierarchy never changed—gray, then blue, then purple at the top—but we respected each other regardless of rank.
I glanced at their faces as they talked and realized I didn't recognize them anymore. They changed, or maybe I did.
Either way, all it took was one comet, and for the first time since the founding of the Dominion, I could see it clearly:
There was nothing I could do for this realm, as much as it pained me to admit it.
The room fell quiet again as I stood up from my seat.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Dusk asked.
I carefully took off my hat and set it on the table. “I quit.”
The witches gasped.
Dawn scoffed. “You can’t ‘quit’, stupid.”
She changed the most in my eyes. Nobody here ever addressed me by name, much less called me ‘stupid’. It was time to go.
“Excuse me, Your Graces.” I curtsied politely and walked towards the stairs.
The Coven would live on, with or without me. They always did somehow.
“Katarina!” Dusk sprang to her feet. “If you step through that door, you’re exiled forever!”
That ship had sailed, unfortunately. I was already exiled in my heart.
I kept going and didn’t look back until the drawbridge stood before me; then I did one last time.
Six hundred years of service. That’s what I saw.
I crossed the bridge to collect my belongings.
Predslava spoke up beneath me in her polar bear form. “Can we stay in our own palace now?”
“Sure.” I scratched her ear. “Just ice for us now, I promise.”
She let out a happy snort.
Footsteps echoed behind us as the citadel’s gates came into view. Predslava wheeled us around. My two Season Sisters halted.
“You weren’t even going to say goodbye?” Iris asked, tearing up, of course.
“Sorry. It’s hard for me, you know… cold heart. Are you two going to be okay?”
“The Coven is our home. I never even imagined I’d see one of us leave…”
Iris yelped.
“I don’t blame you, though.” Hazel wiped her nose on her hair. “Just so you know.”
“Thank you…”
“Where are you going now?”
“Home,” I said.
“So… somewhere freezing in the north?” Iris asked.
I chuckled. “Preferably.”
She shivered at the mere thought.
“Good luck,” Hazel said.
“You too.” I nodded and set us in motion again; the journey was long, and we were far from home.