In the age when the three giant dragons reigned over the Dwarven realm of Svartalfheim, the first dragon, Vulkanfang, claimed the vast territory across almost the entire North. Eldhali settled in the East, and Harðtennr, the final giant dragon, claimed the South.
Most stories about dragon hunters concern the two evil dragons, Vulkanfang and Eldhali. However, the tale of Harðtennr is a separate anomaly. After the Dwarves evacuated their ancient kingdom, a company of witches on horseback swept in to conquer these desolate southern lands. They completely eradicated the dragons residing there before establishing their own villages, which soon evolved into the kingdom of "Einhyrningur" (Unicorn). The name originated from the fact that all the witches' horses possessed a long, sharp horn protruding from their foreheads.
These witches were rumored to have originated from Midgard—human women who studied the Dark Arts. They initially numbered only nine, but the group gradually expanded as more women from various races joined their ranks. A distinguishing characteristic of their kind, besides being female, was their penchant for wearing dark purple and black robes.
The kingdom of Einhyrningur was a loose confederacy with no supreme ruler. The inner territories were divided into nine villages, and each community elected its leader based on who possessed the strongest magical power. This led to extreme differences between villages. For example, in the northern village, the leader favored a curse that turned most residents into swans or geese during the day, restoring them to human form only after sunset.
At West Witch Gate village, the current leader is Berlynda, a reserved, red-haired witch. She was merely a local blacksmith until Samantha, the former village leader, sensed a potent magical energy emanating from her cottage. A duel was necessary, and as Berlynda is the current leader, the result is obvious.
Months ago, something peculiar happened: the reclusive Berlynda left the village accompanied by a young Elf woman. Her position as village head was temporarily entrusted to Amanda, her only apprentice. Amanda was born and raised in West Witch Gate. She became Berlinda's apprentice simply because their houses were next door to each other; her mother is a weaver.
"Amanda, you need to take food to the Grandmother in the cottage in the forest today," her mother's voice called from downstairs, interrupting Amanda's reading of a magic textbook on her second-floor bed.
"Do I really have to go?" Amanda immediately shouted back.
"It's time for the dyeing process today; I need to open the vats and adjust the colors. I can't run errands for you like usual," her mother's voice faded in and out, indicating she was busy with multiple tasks.
"Ugh, being a temporary village head is so boring," Amanda grumbled to herself, then reluctantly got up to change.
She put on her standard witch attire—a full ensemble, from hat to shoes, in red and pink, a stark contrast to the usual dark purple and black favored by the other witches. She was thirteen, turning fourteen, but kept her hair short and ear-length, simply because she was too lazy to manage long hair.
Having changed, Amanda descended from her room to find her mother already gone. A quick breakfast was laid out on the downstairs table, along with a small, brightly red cloth bundle she was meant to deliver to the Grandmother's cottage in the woods.
The young witch quickly finished her meal, snatched up the bundle, and hurried out.
Known throughout the small community for her notorious laziness, Amanda's appearance on the path leading north to the woods drew stares. Many villagers paused their routines to watch her, some offering greetings and bowing in deference to the temporary head witch.
Though nearly everyone in the village studied magic, most held common, practical trades necessary to sustain the community, meaning they rarely wore full witch or wizard robes in public. Only the Head Witch was expected to wear the formal attire to signify authority. Amanda's red and pink uniform—a clear deviation from the standard dark purple—was a source of endless, amusing gossip behind her back.
"Hey, Amanda! Where are you going all dressed up?" A young man her age called out as he reached the village exit, returning from the forest path.
"Alan, back from gathering already?" Amanda greeted him with familiarity.
"You have to gather Dark Mushrooms before dawn," Alan explained, hoisting a basket covered by a black cloth. "If you try to pick them after the sun hits, you just inhale the stink."
"The Dark Mushrooms near our village are always an unappetizing orange color," Amanda commented.
"I got lucky this morning; I found several purple Dark Mushrooms," Alan said, reaching his hand into the covered basket as if to pull one out.
"Don't be an idiot! If you pull a Dark Mushroom out into the light right now, the stench will spread everywhere!" Amanda quickly warned him.
"Oh, right. So, where were you headed? You never told me." Alan scratched his head instead of retrieving the mushroom.
"Just going to Grandmother's place in the woods. What else?" Amanda replied with her signature tone of reluctant duty.
"Wait for me! I'll just drop this basket off at home, and then we can walk together." Alan offered to join her.
"Too lazy to wait. Just hurry up and drop your stuff, then run to catch up," Amanda said coolly.
"Fine, I'll be quick," Alan replied, turning to sprint home.
Watching her friend leave, Amanda continued down the path. The forest, which the Dwarves had named Ómskor (Echoing Woods), was steep and undulating, making travel by horse or carriage impossible.
As Amanda entered the forest, climbing up and down the sloping terrain, she muttered, "This is exhausting." She wiped sweat from her face with her sleeve. Suddenly, an odd gust of cold wind hit her. She immediately felt uneasy; the wind felt unnatural—it was a magical current.
Amanda stopped on a ridge and scanned her surroundings but saw nothing amiss. Yet, a deep sense of being watched persisted. She tightened her grip on her staff and grumbled once more, "That idiot Alan, why is he so slow?" Then, she pressed onward.
Despite the long journey, Amanda reached her destination: a small, clear clearing where tall trees formed a large semicircle, set apart from the main trail. She knelt down, scooped up a handful of dirt, muttered a few incantations, and then smeared the dust across her eyelids. She tossed the remaining powder into the air.
In the reflection of her eyes, the empty clearing vanished, replaced by a large log cabin right in front of her. Amanda strode forward quickly, extending the tip of her staff.
"Pok." The sound of her staff hitting something echoed, yet she saw nothing.
Amanda shifted forward, reaching out with her empty left hand. Her fingers met an invisible wall. After muttering another brief spell, she passed through the unseen barrier and headed toward the cabin door.
The wooden door swung open. Instead of the frail, bedridden old Grandmother, a beautiful woman with pitch-black hair, clad in a mysterious dark purple and black witch uniform, stood waiting. A high-crowned hat matched her robes, and a ruby-red smile spread across her lips.
"You've finally arrived, Little Red Riding Witch-Hood," she purred.
As she finished speaking, the dark-haired witch raised her staff—the tip carved to resemble a horse's head with a long, sharp horn. Four purple-black magic swords immediately materialized and hurtled toward Amanda.
Amanda's reaction was just as swift. She raised her own staff, summoning a yellow-orange magical ring that formed a shield, successfully blocking the advancing swords.
"Grandmother Samantha! How has your magic returned?" Amanda demanded, her face now etched with alarm.
The dark-haired woman in the witch uniform was indeed Samantha, the former village head who had been defeated by Berlynda and imprisoned here.
"Hee-hee," Samantha chuckled, the sound making the small cottage tremble as if struck by an earthquake. "It's because of your laziness! You allowed your simple-minded mother to check on me. She brought me the things I requested, and finally, I broke the spell that bound my power!"
"So, it's my mother's fault then," Amanda muttered, blaming her mother while moving her staff to draw another protective ring in the air.
"Berlynda isn't here. No one can stop me now!" Samantha declared, thrusting her staff forward again.
Slice! Slice! Slice! Slice! Four more purple-black magic swords darted toward Amanda's protective ring, followed by a second, then a third continuous volley!
Amanda's yellow-orange ring shivered violently, a long crack appearing across its surface! She knew she couldn't withstand this barrage. In that split-second crisis, the new ring Amanda drew with her staff was completed!
Instead of a defensive shield, the ring became a propulsion force! A powerful yellow-orange beam shot from the ring toward the sky, shattering the cottage roof into splinters and sending Amanda soaring with it. She narrowly escaped the immediate threat.
Her body, having been launched high, dropped rapidly back to the ground. Amanda wasted no time looking back at the wreckage. She sprinted back along the original path, heading straight for the village!
"You won't escape, Little Red Riding Witch-Hood!" Samantha's furious scream chased her, the dark-robed witch giving rapid chase.
Suddenly, a large, golden shadow darted out from the side of the path!
CRASH! The golden shadow slammed directly into Samantha. Following the loud impact, the evil witch's body was flung against a large tree beside the path.
The injured Samantha coughed up a mouthful of blood and struggled back to her feet, her eyes blazing with fury.
The golden shadow was revealed to be a golden-furred Wolfborn, which stood glaring at Samantha.
"Alan, you're late, you dummy," Amanda muttered to the golden Wolfborn.
The golden Wolfborn seemed to understand Amanda but didn't reply, instead leaping to attack Samantha again!
Samantha raised her horse-headed staff to protect her chest and fired a purple-black magic sword at the charging beast. The Wolfborn, however, was lightning-fast, dodging the projectile.
Just as the Wolfborn's claws were about to strike Samantha's throat, the evil witch moved her staff, conjuring a fleeting purple magic ring that transformed into a powerful gale, blasting the Wolfborn away in the opposite direction.
"You're too slow, old woman," Amanda's voice chimed from right beside Samantha's head.
Samantha spun around, only to see a yellow-orange magic ring flash, instantly transforming into a large, concentrated beam of light that slammed into her body. Samantha's body was pushed back against another large tree. Though the pain was intense, as if her ribs were shattering, she endured it. She gathered her strength and focus, casting a spell that materialized a massive dark purple-black magic ring to shield herself from the orange-yellow beam.
Amanda stepped forward to confront Samantha again. The magical rings of both witches clashed fiercely in the middle, neither gaining an advantage.
"Little Red Riding Witch-Hood, you cannot defeat me," Samantha scoffed, even in her battered state. As one of the nine founding witches of the kingdom, she was confident that no one could match her magical strength, save for Berlynda, the former Valkyrie of the ancient era.
"Alan, hurry up! My magic is almost spent!" Amanda urged, her face strained with the effort of maintaining the spell.
Suddenly, the golden shadow swiftly circled the magical clash from the side, flanking Samantha from behind. Its sharp claws plunged through the evil witch's heart from the back, decisively ending the life of one of the nine original founders of the kingdom.
The moment the claws pierced her, Samantha froze. Her magical energy instantly extinguished. The dark purple-black ring dissolved into the air, and her body, which had been propped against the tree, slowly slid to the forest floor, marking the end of one of the kingdom's original pioneers.
The battle was over. Amanda took a ragged breath to regain her strength before collapsing onto the ground, utterly exhausted, while Alan slowly reverted to human form. His golden fur vanished, revealing the naked body of the young man.
Alan was one of the many victims of Samantha's ancient curse. The former Head Witch of West Witch Gate particularly enjoyed cursing people into werewolves, contrasting with the northern head witch, who preferred geese and swans.
"The witch who cursed your family has been dealt with," Amanda said, extending her red and pink witch hat to the young man. "So... you won't be able to turn into a wolf anymore, right?"
Alan, covering his modesty with Amanda's hat, replied with an exhausted voice, "I don't know. I'm not sure if the curse is destroyed along with the death of the one who cast it."
Amanda looked at Samantha's lifeless body with a complex expression. "Master Berlynda imprisoned Samantha and never considered killing her because she was instrumental in founding this village. I never thought that I—the temporary head witch—would be the one to kill her." Amanda sighed deeply. "I'm going to be severely punished."
"No, you won't," Alan reassured her. "I'll speak on your behalf."
Amanda shot Alan a serious look. "Honestly, you're the one who pierced her heart and killed her. If Master Berlynda is going to punish anyone, it should be you, not me."