PURE BLOODS

episode 2

What if instead of healing, you could force someone to do what you want? What if instead of growing food, you could take what belongs to your neighbour? What if you could destroy your enemy without ever drawing a sword?

Curiosity turned into hunger. Wisdom turned into greed. And so, twisted and reshaped by hands that were not worthy, dark magic was born.

It was nothing like the old magic. It was sharp, bitter, and hungry — feeding on fear, on anger, on the desire to control. Where good magic worked with the world, dark magic forced it to break. And once it existed, there was no going back.

People grew afraid. They stopped asking who was good and who was evil. They only saw the power — and they trembled. And from that fear, born of misunderstanding and darkness, witches came into being. They were not born evil — they were simply named for it. They were the ones who walked the path of magic, who held a power others could not control and could not understand.

The world divided. Those who feared magic looked at those who used it — and did not see neighbours, healers, or teachers. They saw only a threat. And out of that fear, they began to build the fire that would consume them all.

As Fear does not stay quiet for long. It spreads fast, like smoke through a village. And so it spread across the land — suspicion turning to dread, and dread turning to rage. The kings of old saw this fear growing, and instead of calming it, they chose to use it.

They gathered the most trusted and ruthless men in all the kingdoms, and bound them to one single purpose. That was how "The Six" was formed — an order created to hunt down witches and anyone who practised magic the kings called forbidden. They were given full authority to enter any home, arrest anyone they chose, and judge them without mercy. No law stood above them.

The hunt began. But fear does not care about innocence. The Six did not stop to ask who used magic for good and who used it for harm. If a woman could heal with her hands, if a child could make a flower bloom, if an old woman knew the old ways of the earth — they were taken. Innocent and guilty alike were dragged away in chains.

They were burnt alive.

Smoke rose from every village and every hill. Families were torn apart — children watching their mothers led away, husbands separated from their wives, all because they carried a power the world no longer dared to understand. Chaos swept across the land. There was no safety, no justice, nowhere to hide — not inside the kingdoms.

But some would not be destroyed. Under the cover of night, in small groups and alone, the survivors fled. They carried almost nothing — just the clothes on their backs and the magic in their bones. They travelled far, past the known borders, past the valleys and forests — until they reached the Eastern Mountain Forest. There, among the high peaks and mist-shrouded trees, they found a place where no king’s law could reach them. They built their homes in the shadow of the mountains, and there they practised their craft in peace — hidden, but still alive.