The Origin of the Witch
Once, Creempuff was a simple witch. Her name was whispered
across the forests, a soft and gentle sound that resonated with the tranquility of nature. A young witch of warmth, curiosity, and deep love for nature. She had an affinity for all things growing — especially wisteria trees, whose long, drooping vines seemed to echo the beauty of her spirit. It was in the heart of the forest, amidst the ever-blooming wisterias, where she found solace and peace. Her magic was one of care, tending to the balance of the land and nurturing the earth with every spell she cast. Her home was a magical kingdom, but found solace beneath the branches of an ancient wisteria tree, where her powers flourished in harmony with the land.
Alongside her, always, was her beloved husband. Though his name has been lost to time, his presence was a part of her every day. His warmth complemented hers, and together they governed a world where magic was as free and untamed as the winds. They were equals in every sense, bonded not only by love but by a shared destiny. The magic that flowed from them touched every corner of the land.
But peace is fleeting.The Darkness Consumes
A great and terrible darkness descended upon the land. It was a creeping force, an unnatural blight that seemed to drain all life, sapping the very essence of the land's magic. It was no accident — it was born of an ancient evil, a force that had long slumbered beneath the earth. Creempuff and her husband fought valiantly against it, her magic and his tech intertwining in perfect unity. Yet, despite their strength, the darkness claimed him. One day, her beloved vanished, pulled away by an unrelenting shadow that consumed his body and soul, leaving only an empty space in her heart.
The loss shattered her, and grief wrapped its cold fingers around her soul. In the hours and days that followed, Creempuff wandered aimlessly through the darkened forests, her power faltering with each passing moment. She could not accept what had happened, could not accept the truth that he was gone.
In her sorrow, her magic took a darker turn. Without even realizing it, she began to consume the very essence of her husband's soul, devouring it slowly as a desperate means of holding on to him. In doing so, his spirit was bound to hers, trapped within the confines of her own being. His soul began to meld with her own, becoming an inseparable part of her — trapped in a place neither life nor death could reach.
The process, although painful, brought her a strange sense of connection. His presence within her became both a curse and a comfort, a voice that whispered in her mind and a warmth that flickered in the dark corners of her heart. But his body — his physical form — could not return, only a small sprout from the wisteria tree he once loved, which began to grow beside her. This sprout, symbolic of rebirth and loss, was the beginning of a new chapter. The wisteria tree — now forever entwined with his spirit — became her new protector, as he had once been.
