Hoodwinked

Prologue

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You'd think being part of one of the most renowned, richest witch families on the Boiling Isles would be great, right?
Yeah, no.

Being a Blight sounds fun on paper. No worrying about money, being in the Emperor's good books, plus your parents would be gifted, so that means you'll be naturally gifted too!

Well, not you. Your siblings, perhaps. But you're lacking in the talented gene, unfortunately.
You're painfully average. You get mostly Bs and Cs in your oracle class, you never really had something unique about you, so your parents never quite spent any money on extracurricular classes.

But you've seen how they treat Amity. She's always dozing off on the dinner table, with her nose buried in a book. And she hasn't been attending sibling sleepovers, which you take personal offense to.

It's not like it's her fault, though. It's your parents, those two menaces, who force her to enter coven tryout from coven tryout, extra class after extra class...honestly, you felt bad for your little sister, but what could you do? You're powerless against your parents. They would burn down Blight Industries before lending you an ear–

"(Reader)!" snapped your mother, causing you to leave your mind rant. "You're slowing down again."

"Sorry, Mom." you said through your teeth, beginning to sweep once again.
It was dark in the factory, and silent. You much prefer this than the loud cheering of those crude investors that filled the space moments before.

But still, silence with your parents was hell.

Your mother turns to your father, who is tidying up the Abomaton prototype. Her scowl turns sweet.
"Despite the..er, spectacle Amity and that human caused, this was quite a successful sale!" she beams, patting his shoulder, "Excellent job on the 2.0, dear."

"Yes." a new voice says abruptly, causing you to drop your broom.
A crimson glow enfolds the broom, and it floats into your palm. Your gaze never leaves the dark where the source of the voice came from, however.

A new figure steps into the light. Your eyes widened, and you knew exactly who this was.
His crisp white cloak trailed behind as he put back his mechanical staff behind him, the gem still glowing dimly. The gold mask, like a barn owl, flashes. You and your parents stare in awe as where he stood, with two coven scouts standing behind him.

Mother falls to her knees, and pulls down Dad. You follow their steps.
"Your Abomatons are quite extraordinary." The Golden Guard continues, stopping a few feet in front of you. " Too bad no one will be receiving them."
You stare up at him in shock, mouth opening to object.
Then, his head snaps to you. "Care to add anything, Blight?"
"They mean no harm!" Mother says hastily, giving him a quick glance before glaring at you. You close your mouth.

"Hm." his gaze lingers on your face another moment before he clears his throat, "As I was saying, your Abomatons are rather...astounding. Head Witch Deammone gives his regards."
You feel a grin tug at your lips as you see your father scowls, reminding you of how Amity makes that red angry face when she's annoyed at the twins.
"The Emperor has heard of your products, and will personally fund research into making them stronger."
"That's great news! We are honored to have—" your mother flushed, smiling, but the Golden Guard cuts her off.

"You should be. The Emperor doesn't take kindly to citizens making....private armies."
Another glance to you, before he turns around. The scouts mimic him. "We will send a ship with coven officials to see what you can offer tomorrow. Good evening."
And as hasty as he arrived, he left into the shadows.
Your parents exchanged a worried glance before standing once more.

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