Margrove. A small patch of land with fields, green hills and a surrounding forest. A perfect place to visit during spring. There was a small village with the centre known for its welcoming inhabitants and delicious fruit's and wine.
Within the heart of the village, the central bar, which was also an inn, lay.
Ordinarily uneventful. To the extent that even trouble makers would say hello in the morning and thank you when their drinks arrived. It was the type of place that even kids and families would occasionally visit.
That would all soon change in a single afternoon. At the counter, the barman, who was also the owner, was busy cleaning glasses. His two daughters served as waitresses. Wearing simple brown skirts, handing out food to a room full of customers.
All of a sudden, the door shot open, letting in a cold breeze from outside.
Three young women wearing white buttoned uniforms strutted in.
The open door annoyed one of the customers, so he got up and closed it, frowning at the girls. Luckily, they didn't see his expression and continued walking into the room.
Their eyes moved around the customers. Pridefully exhaling at their sight. Like they were watching a pack of animals at a zoo.
Each of the girls walked with an air of dignity, wearing detailed gemstone accessories. Their hair was colourful like an assortment of flowers.
Though it would be foolish of one to assume these flowers didn't come with an array of thorns.
As the group walked towards one of the empty tables. A simple but costly mistake was made.
A patron who made a habit of flirting with any woman unaccompanied by a male counterpart had set his eyes on the primmest of the flowers. Her eyes were like glistening white diamonds, accompanied by her silky braided blue hair.
His eyes scanned her white uniform, stopping at the supple shape of her breast. He grinned and slyly reached out his hand.
He didn't even come close to touching her.
With ordinary methods, it would take 17 hours to thaw him out of the prison of ice he found himself encased in.
It was difficult to know whether this man was so fortunate to have never encountered one of her kind before. Or perhaps he had, and he was simply so desperate that he didn't care.
Regardless, this was a magic technique so potent that no ordinary human could stand a chance.
One hundred years ago, those who used magic, witches, were violently persecuted by society. mass hysteria with little to no reasonable motivation. Out of fear of death, most hid their powers and tried their hardest to blend in with human society.
However. Eventually, their covens grew in secret, and they were no longer at the mercy of those without power.
Some would consider that the natural order. Some would say the very nature of their power is unnatural. Regardless, the result is the same.
Gone are the days of the witch hunts. Now humanity is at their mercy.
The customers of the bar murmured at the sight. A man fully encased in a block of ice.
Not a typical sight in spring, let alone any season. The block of ice was emitting cold mist that made the onlookers shiver. The man's lustful smile, an immortalised frozen visage.
Chatter spread across the tables.
"Is he dead?" An older woman cried.
"W-we should leave." Her husband responded.
"You know what they say about playing with fire. Or ice in this case." One man commented.
"You can't be serious," a woman said.
"Hey, didn't you say you used to be an inquisit-" A hardened man whispered, but before he could finish, the man sitting next to him covered his mouth
Behind the counter of the bar, the two waitresses peeked over the top.
"Scary," the younger sister shivered, gripping onto the barman's pants.
"Serves him right, that perverted jerk," the older waitress with short brown hair said.
"Y-you can't really mean that, sis," The younger waitress grimaced.
The older girl pouted.
At the centre of the room, the 3 witches took note of their reception.
The two witches beside the blue-haired leader snickered at the ordeal.
"Oh my, we're quite popular, it seems," one of the witches commented. She had straight dark purple hair, a petite frame and black lipstick.
The other witch cackled, "Anyone else want an autograph?" The other witch exclaimed.
She had curly orange hair and freckles. She was also the biggest of the group in both size and figure. She puffed out her chest when she spoke to seem more intimidating as well as to show off a bit of cleavage.
The witch with blue hair moved towards the block
"Help me with this, Perelina", she said softly. Her voice was almost melodic.
The orange-haired girl retrieved a thin, decorated stick from the gap between her boobs and pointed it at the frozen block. She answered, "Sure thing, Glade, where do you want him?"
The three girls found a table close to the counter, ensuring that they would be seen by everyone in the room. They all sat.
Icy Water dripped between the cracks of the wooden floor.
The customers stared nervously. there were low cracking sounds coming from the icy block that held the smiling man.
Just above him, the blue-haired witch sat with an elegant posture.
Perhaps the frozen man would be happy knowing his face was mere centimetres away from the rump of a beautiful girl.
"Mortia, would you be so kind as to order for us?" Glade asked, sitting cross-legged atop the ice.
"Fufufu, yes, very well, what would you like?"
"Anything with spice," Perelina smiled, sitting with her arm over the spare chair.
"I wasn't asking you, I'm afraid."
Perelina stuck her stuck her toungue out, making Mortia's eye twitch.
"Maintain yourselves," Glade said calmly.
Perelina's expression softened, she removed her arm from the chair and crossed them covering her exposed cleavage.
Mortia looked plainly at their leader.
"Upholding our image is more important than any one of our lives, remember that, ladies." Glade said, "Especially in the presence of these insects."
Behind the counter, the two waitresses continued to observe. Studying the blue-haired witch as she shuffled her butt around atop the block of ice.
"S-she's insane," the younger waitress cried
Her elder sister nodded, "This is too far. If the block breaks, that man will die for sure,"
"No, that's not what I mean. How can she just sit on the ice like that?"
The elder waitress raised an eyebrow.
The younger sister pointed, "Look, her skirt is draping outside the block, meaning the ice is coming into full contact with her bare skin."
"She shouldn't be able to sit so comfortably and hold a conversation while her behind is being thoroughly frozen through."
"Now if she were wearing shorts, then I guess it could be possible for a small duration without losing all feeling down under," she nodded..
The elder sister thought to chime in, but was interrupted.
"But I just don't see a gal like her wearing shorts. If anything, I think there'd be a higher chance of her going commando." She said, shaking her head.
The older sister watched her younger sister's thoughtful face.
"Right. I forgot we dropped you on your head as a kid."
"Sis, you meanie!"
"Listen, she's a witch," The elder sister whispered, "They're capable of all kinds of nonsense. Why is it a stretch to think she can sit on a block of ice without trouble?"
"You're right, she must be using some kind of thermal control system. Just like how every reaction has an equal and opposite reaction, of course."
"She must be able to emit heat from her butt," The younger sister announced.
"You're a lost cause," The elder sister bowed her head.
"I don't mean to interrupt" The purple-haired witch stood in front of the counter.
"We're ready to order," Mortia smiled.
The two waitresses fixed their gaze on the petite woman, grabbing each other and shaking in fear.
***
Some time after the witches' order was taken, the barman returned from the kitchen and brought three plates of food. The two sisters played rock, paper, scissors, and once the eldest sister won, the younger hesitantly picked up the plates from her father.
The barman intensely looked at his daughter.
"Don't drop them," his face said, painting fear onto his youngest daughter. She picked them up, hands shaking.
She made her way over to the witches' table, making sure not to trip on any loose wooden planks and making extra sure not to slip on the wet floor.
Once she reached the witches, she began placing the plates down.
"Here's your food, I hope you enjoy." The younger waitress feigned glee and fumbled through her words.
After she placed the last plate in front of Glade, she waited beside the witch's table for a moment longer. Inviting Perelina and Mortia's glare.
"Was there something else?" Glade asked without moving a single lash.
The brown-haired waitress briefly looked down at the block of ice, then up above at her skirt that was starting to get soaked in the icy water.
"Is that comfortable?" She asked
Everyone in the room froze, her father stopped cleaning glasses, and her sister held her breath and prayed.
The brown-haired waitress stood awkwardly waiting for an answer.
"Would you like to try?" Glade asked.
"Huh?"
She suddenly became conscious of the witches' glares.
"N-no. T-thank you for the offer, miss." She shakily bowed and swiftly left the witches' table.