Chapter 2

“Sister, are you done yet?”

Outside the door, Alice’s voice interrupted Dorothy’s memories.

“Coming, coming! Girls need to get ready before going out—why the rush?”

She didn’t really have much to prepare; she simply grabbed the scarf hanging on the nearby coat rack, wrapped it around her face, completely concealing her chin and lips, fully armed herself, then stepped out of the room.

“Sister, what’s with this weird outfit?”

Outside the door, Alice stared at her sister, completely wrapped up, and couldn’t help but feel speechless.

But she wasn’t surprised—after all, her sister had always been like this: stunningly beautiful, yet always hiding herself away, as if she were ashamed to be seen.

“Hehe, my unparalleled beauty belongs only to me—if anyone sees it, I’ll be at a loss.”

Dorothy wore a smug grin at her sister’s exasperation.

This body was a gift from the gods, given to her girlfriend—how could she let outsiders gawk at her own girlfriend?

“Let’s go, let’s go—where are we shopping? The town supermarket?”

Seeing her sister’s hesitant expression, as if she wanted to say more, Dorothy quickly interrupted.

She hurried to the front door, took her flying broom from the stand beside it, and turned to look at Alice.

Alice said nothing more; she stepped forward and picked up her own broom.

“Of course we’re going to the city! What’s there to do in the town supermarket? The selection’s limited, the quality’s poor. Sister, you can’t skimp on school supplies—we need to buy good ones. Today we’re going to the Witch Specialty Store.”

She rolled her eyes at her sister’s gloomy face, even more exasperated by this homebody sister who’d never liked going out since childhood.

“Fine.”

Thinking of the distant city, Dorothy really didn’t want to move—but Alice’s sharp gaze made her stay silent; she just nodded, daring not to speak further.

Besides, the magical item shops in town were mediocre at best, rarely carrying high-end goods. Such low-quality items often couldn’t handle the immense magical flow of witches, easily breaking down—so for witch supplies, it was best to buy from a Witch Specialty Store.

But since witches were few in number, dedicated specialty stores were rare. In big cities they were common enough, but in this backwater town where the sisters lived, there was only one—in the city center.

“Then lead the way—I don’t know the area well.”

Dorothy said to her sister.

She wasn’t familiar with the location of the Witch Specialty Store—not entirely because she was a homebody, but because she’d never had reason to go there before.

After all, strictly speaking, she was only a half-witch: the child of a human mage father and a witch mother, possessing only half witch blood.

This brings up the origin of witches: the first witches emerged from mutations among human witches, so strictly speaking, witches are an evolved offshoot of humanity, with no reproductive isolation from humans.

But such witches evolved from humans are now rare—these are called Primordial Witches, an exceedingly uncommon type even among witches.

Most witches today are born from two witches mating. Though same-sex reproduction sounds absurd, for a race as powerful as witches, it’s no great feat—they’re already absurd enough as a species.

Still, witches have always been open and free, so there’s no rule saying witches must mate only with witches. Though some power-obsessed witches do lean toward that, most choose partners with far greater freedom.

Dorothy’s mother was one such witch who chose a human mage as her partner—she’d fallen for her father’s looks at first sight, they fell in love, and Dorothy was born. Then, her witch mother, who took freedom too far, quickly grew bored with love, realizing that magic was far more fun than romance. After their relationship collapsed, she threw herself into endless magical research.

After that came the story of her father meeting his current stepmother and forming a blended family.

With only half witch blood, Dorothy was naturally a prodigy among human mages—but by witch standards, she was practically a low-talent child, otherwise she wouldn’t have only barely met the witch school’s admission criteria at age sixteen.

Consider that her pure-blood sister Alice enrolled at age three; now thirteen, she’s already halfway through her twenty-year mandatory witch education, while Dorothy is only now preparing to enter first grade.

Hmm, starting tomorrow, when she meets her sister at school, she’ll have to call Alice “senior.”

“Alright, then stick close to me, sister.”

Alice nodded, understanding her sister’s unfamiliarity with the city, and added a cautious reminder.

In that moment, the sisters’ roles seemed reversed—Alice was far more mature than her sister.

“Yes, yes, yes—fly slowly. If you go too fast, I won’t catch up. Have some pity on your weak, pitiful low-talent sister.”

Dorothy nodded.

“What? Sister, you’re not a low-talent child—don’t say that! Many top-tier witches are half-witches too. Pure-blood witches just start faster—that’s all. Later on, everyone’s equal. You’ll be amazing someday, sister.”

Dorothy had only been teasing, but Alice stubbornly rebutted, her golden-haired face serious, her emerald-green eyes brimming with unwavering faith in her sister.

Dorothy froze, suddenly embarrassed, and reached out as she used to when they were children, ruffling Alice’s hair until it was a mess.

Hehe, all these years of spoiling her weren’t wasted—she still cared about her sister. Good girl.

“Alright, alright, I’ll work hard. Let’s get going—the city’s far, so let’s leave early and come back early.”

Saying this, she reached out and opened the front door.

Outside, the world revealed itself: an endless sea of clouds.

“Good morning, Dorothy, and little Alice—you’re heading out?”

The old woman next door flew past on her steampunk-modified broom, gave them a quick wave, then zoomed off again, leaving behind a trail of black smoke and a final remark.

“The supermarket next door’s half-price today—I’m off!”

Dorothy: “......”

Tch, even after over a decade, this magical setting still felt unnatural.

She thought to herself as she swung her leg over her broom.