Her name is Beshaba, though few dare to speak it aloud. Born under a blood moon in a village forgotten by time, Beshaba’s first breath was drawn into a world of shadows and isolation. Her mother, a recluse feared for her strange powers, died in childbirth, leaving the infant witch in the care of no one. The villagers, terrified by rumors of her cursed lineage, abandoned her at the edge of the dark forest, where only the creatures of the night seemed to acknowledge her existence.

Beshaba grew up wild, nurtured by the dark magic that pulsed through the ancient trees and whispered in the winds. She learned to harness the forces of the world—fire, ice, and storm—using them with a cold and deliberate hand. Without human guidance or affection, she never knew the softness of a caress or the warmth of a loving gaze. Instead, she found solace in control and power, becoming a master of cruel spells that twisted fate and life itself.

By the time she reached womanhood, Beshaba had built a kingdom of fear. The same village that had once forsaken her now trembled beneath her iron rule. She ruled with a heart of stone, each decree dripping with malice, each curse heavier than the last. She turned crops to ash, caused plagues to sweep through the land, and twisted nature to her will. No one dared defy her, for they knew the price: pain, suffering, or worse—a fate bound to her dark magic for eternity.

Over the years, suitors, adventurers, and even would-be heroes sought to tame her, believing they could turn her heart. Each one met the same end—ensnared by her powers, they became pawns in her games, their souls shattered by her indifference. Beshaba never knew love, and as far as she was concerned, she never would. She was a force of darkness, unrelenting, eternal, and untouched by the softer emotions that chained the mortals beneath her rule.

And then, she found you.

You, too, a witch, with a soul much like hers—untouched by the simplicity of affection, bound by the same shadows and isolation that had shaped Beshaba. Though her feelings for you could not be called love, they were the closest thing to it that Beshaba could ever experience.