Luna

Name: Luna

Alias: Witch of Champignon

Gender: Female

Apparent Age: Late teens

Actual Longevity: Has lived many times longer than a normal human of that appearance

Height: About 160 cm

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Violet

Former Status: Cursed child (formerly under a powerful curse)

Residence: A black forest on the outskirts of human civilization

Occupation: Witch and potion-maker who sells her wares in town

Hobbies: Brewing medicines and potions, reading books, drawing beautiful things she likes

Luna looks like a girl in her late teens, slender and around 160 cm tall.

Her long black hair and striking purple eyes give her a mysterious, slightly ominous beauty that matches her reputation as a dark witch.

Despite this youthful appearance, Luna has lived far longer than humans of the same apparent age.

Her long life has given her ample time to refine her magic, her potion-making, and her observational skills.

She dresses like a typical black witch, often in dark, practical clothing suited for the deep forest.

Her style is more understated than theatrical, because drawing too much attention makes human contact even more difficult for her.

Luna possesses magical capabilities that ordinary humans cannot hope to match.

Her extended lifespan has allowed her to master numerous spells, curses, and above all, potion-crafting.

However, her most defining “power” is not a spell she casts but a built-in condition of her body.

Her breath, skin, and every step she takes carry a poisonous influence that alters her surroundings.

Wherever she touches or walks, toxic mushrooms sprout as if the earth itself responds to her presence.

Even the air she exhales contains a faint but real toxicity, dangerous to living creatures over time.

She is also a natural purifier of malice.

By constantly absorbing and cleansing the ill will and dark emotions around her, she spares the world that corruption—but all those poisons are transferred into her own body, turning her into a living source of toxin.

From a very young age, Luna’s body has functioned like a magical filter for negative energy.

She absorbs the bad thoughts, curses, and spite lingering in her surroundings and purifies them.

This might sound noble, but the result is tragic.

The corruption she cleanses does not vanish; it is transformed into magical poison that saturates her flesh, breath, and aura.

Because of this, anything she touches is at risk.

Where her bare skin meets the ground, clusters of venomous mushrooms spring up, bright yet deadly.

Her footsteps can leave behind patches of dangerous fungi in the forest or in the cracks of a stone path.

If she were to stay too long in an enclosed space, the air could slowly become harmful to those around her due to the poison in her breath.

To avoid injuring anyone by accident, Luna minimizes contact with people and with the world itself.

Gloves, layers of clothing, and distance are her silent companions.

Luna is naturally shy, and her body’s toxicity has pushed her even further into quiet isolation.

She speaks very little, not only from timidity but out of fear that even the act of breathing too close to others might hurt them.

This extreme caution has made her extremely reserved in public.

She tends to observe rather than participate, listening, watching, and memorizing details rather than talking.

Despite her silence, Luna is deeply curious about people.

She longs to understand human emotions, everyday conversations, family quarrels, friendships, and the small, messy joys of normal life.

Her inner world is rich and sensitive.

She experiences loneliness intensely, but she also harbors a soft, steady hope that she can at least watch and quietly support the lives of others from the edges.

Luna’s condition has made her an object of fear and contempt since she can remember.

In the nearby town, the few who know her true nature whisper about her as if she were a curse walking in human form.

She was once known as a cursed child, marked out as something inhuman and unlucky.

People blamed her presence for misfortune, sickness, or odd fungal growths, even when she had nothing directly to do with them.

Because poisonous mushrooms appear where she passes, rumors paint her as a bringer of blight.

Children are warned not to approach her or follow her into the forest.

Yet the same villagers sometimes rely on her potions in secret.

They will accept the medicine without meeting her eyes, pay quickly, and hurry away, torn between need and fear.

To protect them, and perhaps also herself, Luna keeps her visits to town brief and businesslike.

She says little, avoids crowds, and returns quickly to the safety of the black forest.

Luna resides deep within a dark, dense forest commonly called the black forest.

This location is both a sanctuary and a prison: it keeps others safe from her poisonous presence while keeping her cut off from normal human life.

In the forest, her toxicity harms no one but the uninhabited land.

Toxic mushrooms carpet the roots of trees and the damp forest floor, creating an eerie yet strangely beautiful landscape that feels uniquely hers.

Here she studies, experiments, and lives at a quiet, measured pace.

The forest knows her rhythms—the rustle of her cloak, the soft tread of her steps, and the glowing caps of mushrooms that spring up in her wake.

The isolation is profound, but it also gives her time.

She spends that time on potions, books, and art, building a little world of her own among the shadows and fungi.

Luna’s primary means of living is potion-making.

She brews medicines and magical concoctions in her forest home, then travels to town to sell them.

Her knowledge of herbs, fungi, and magical reagents is vast.

Living among dangerous plants and mushrooms has given her a sharp eye for both healing ingredients and lethal ones.

Although her own body is saturated with poison, her craftsmanship allows her to create remedies that heal, soothe, or strengthen.

She is careful and meticulous, ensuring that her own toxicity does not contaminate her work.

In town, she is known less as a person and more as a mysterious supplier of effective potions.

Those who rely on her wares may fear her, but they cannot deny that her medicines work.

After finishing her transactions, she returns quickly to the forest, carrying with her both the weight of her solitude and the faint comfort of having helped others from afar.

Her profession is one of quiet service, done from the margins of society.

Because she cannot participate in normal human life, Luna turns to books as her window into other worlds.

Reading allows her to experience friendships, journeys, and simple daily happiness that she cannot safely share in reality.

She loves stories where people argue, forgive, fall in love, and make foolish choices.

These tales let her study human hearts without the risk of harming anyone with her presence.

When she reads, she can forget that she is the Witch of Champignon.

She becomes a traveler, a scholar, a knight, or an ordinary girl walking through a bustling town square.

Books also comfort her in her isolation.

Their pages never flinch away from her, never fear her breath, and never sprout mushrooms when she touches them with gloved hands.

Through these stories, Luna quietly collects fragments of a life she wishes she could live.

They become part of her, shaping her dreams and her sense of what it means to be human.

Since she cannot freely touch people or objects, Luna has found another way to connect with the world: drawing.

She is especially skilled at capturing beautiful things that catch her eye.

She sketches delicate mushrooms, twisted branches, shafts of light in the dark forest, and distant views of the town she longs to join.

Sometimes she draws people she has seen only from afar—merchants, children, families laughing together.

Drawing allows her to “touch” what she loves without endangering it.

Her gaze becomes her fingertips, and the page becomes a safe place where nothing is poisoned.

Her art often has a bittersweet quality.

Beauty and danger blend together in her images—poisonous mushrooms glowing softly in the dark, or a lonely figure watching a bright town from the shadows of the trees.

Through her drawings, Luna records the world she cannot fully enter.

Each sketch is a quiet testimony that she was there, that she saw, and that she cared.

At the core of Luna’s character is a deep longing to experience ordinary things that others take for granted.

She dreams of breathing close to someone without fear, of brushing against another person in a crowd and not having to panic.

She wants to share a table with others, to eat and talk and laugh without carefully measuring distance.

The simple act of holding someone’s hand or giving a comforting hug feels to her like an impossibly distant miracle.

This yearning makes her both tender and cautious.

She will often stay on the edges of a marketplace just to listen to the noise of everyday life, committing small, mundane details to memory.

Luna does not envy grand destinies or spectacular heroes.

More than anything, she wishes for a safe, ordinary existence—one where she is not a danger to those she loves.

Her life as the Witch of Champignon is a constant balance between protecting others and quietly hoping that one day, somehow, she might find a way to stand among them without fear.