Chapter One: The Curse of Being Eesome
The grand estate of the Eesome family was perched high on a hill, its tall, cold walls casting shadows over the town below. From the outside, it looked like a palace, but inside, it was more like a cage—a beautiful prison for a family with secrets as dark as the night.
Joy Eesome stood at the window of her lavish bedroom, the necklace around her neck—a delicate bird in flight—resting against her skin. It had been a gift from her father, given on the day she first showed signs of magic. The memory was faint now, but she remembered his face, filled with guilt rather than pride. "You’ll understand one day, Joy," he had said before disappearing once again into his life of silence and shadows.
Her father had passed on his magic to her, just as he had to her younger brother and sister. But where Joy had embraced it, her siblings—both younger, both full of bitterness—had rejected their powers. To them, magic was nothing more than a curse, something that made them monstrous in the eyes of the world. And in a way, they weren’t wrong.
In their world, magic wasn’t celebrated. It was feared. Human-born witches were seen as abominations, reviled by both the magical and non-magical alike. The covens that ruled the magical world regarded them with disgust, seeing their existence as a blemish on the purity of their kind. And the humans? They feared them, whispered about them, and avoided them. Monsters, they were called. Monsters pretending to be people.
"Joy!" The sharp voice of her mother, Elena, pierced through the silence. "You’ve been brooding long enough. It’s unbecoming. Come downstairs."
Joy sighed, pulling herself away from the window. Her mother had never understood her, never cared to try. Elena Eesome was a woman obsessed with beauty, with appearances. To her, magic was vile, a stain on her perfect life. She despised that her children had inherited their father’s curse. But for Joy, it went beyond disgust. Her mother’s vanity, her obsession with perfection, had made it clear that Joy’s magic was more than an embarrassment. It was a reminder of everything Elena hated about the family’s legacy.
Joy descended the grand staircase, her footsteps silent on the marble floor. She could feel the weight of her mother’s gaze the moment she entered the drawing room. Elena was seated on a velvet sofa, her flawless complexion and meticulously styled hair glowing in the afternoon light. She looked as though she belonged in a painting, every inch of her perfectly composed, every movement graceful.
"Are you going to the Council?" Elena asked without looking up from her mirror, where she was carefully applying a new shade of lipstick. Her tone was cold, as if the very idea disgusted her.
"Yes," Joy replied, her voice steady. "I have to."
The Council of Witches was the governing body of the magical world, the ones who decided the fates of witches like Joy. They hated her kind—human-born witches—but Joy knew she had to face them. She had to prove that she wasn’t worthless, that she wasn’t the monster everyone thought her to be. She wasn’t just a product of a cursed bloodline. She was powerful, even if no one saw it yet.
"I don’t see why you bother," Elena muttered. "They’ll never accept you. You’ll only humiliate yourself and this family."
Joy clenched her fists, willing herself not to respond. Her mother had never supported her, never cared about her ambitions. She only cared about how the world saw her, how it saw the Eesome name. And to her, Joy was a threat to that carefully crafted image. But Joy couldn’t let that stop her. She wouldn’t.
"Maybe not," Joy said softly, more to herself than to her mother. "But I have to try."
Her mother scoffed but said nothing more, returning to her reflection as though the conversation had never happened. To Elena, magic was an inconvenience—an ugly secret that needed to be hidden away. But to Joy, it was the only thing that gave her life meaning, the only thing that connected her to something larger than herself.
As Joy left the room, she felt the weight of her mother’s disapproval pressing down on her, as it always did. But her siblings, at least, didn’t share Elena’s hatred.
In the hallway, her younger sister, Lily, stood waiting. Lily’s soft eyes were filled with worry as she tugged nervously at the hem of her dress. Her magic was weaker than Joy’s, but it was there, flickering beneath the surface. She hated it, but she admired Joy’s strength.
"You’re really going to see them, aren’t you?" Lily whispered, her voice trembling. "The Council?"
Joy nodded. "I have to, Lily. I need to show them that I’m not afraid."
Lily bit her lip, her expression conflicted. "I wish I could be as brave as you. But… what if they hurt you? What if they—"
"They won’t," Joy interrupted, though she wasn’t entirely sure. "I won’t let them."
Her brother, Simon, appeared at the top of the stairs, his face hard and unreadable. He was quiet, always watching, always listening. Like Lily, he hated his powers, but there was something deeper in Simon—something darker. He had always looked up to Joy, admired her determination, but his silence spoke of a fear he would never admit aloud.
"Good luck, Joy," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Joy smiled faintly. She would need more than luck.
With a deep breath, she walked toward the front door, her heart pounding. Today would be the day she would face the Council of Witches. Today, she would prove that she was more than the curse she carried.
She wasn’t a monster. She was Joy Eesome. And she would show the world her power.
