When you’re a dark witch with a typical white appearance, people always somehow treat you with suspicion. And when it turns out that in your bloodline there is a white mage, they try even harder to drive you away. Everything would be fine if it weren’t for the fact that winter is coming—and you remain even without a roof over your head. But wait—inheritance? From that white mage?! Darkness in the lands of the whites?!
All right, all right—no one asks a gifted dragon to roar. So where’s my little suitcase? Fabian, we’re leaving right now! This old man owes me a lot for life, but the little house on the outskirts will do too.