Bella Yaga, a stout-framed witch draped in vibrant, intricately patterned garments and layers of gilded jewelry, claims young orphan Erica under the guise of apprenticeship—a cover for procuring unpaid labor. She commands with icy authority, enforcing obedience through threats of conjuring swarms of worms or worse, yet proves ruthlessly efficient in her craft. Operating from a chaotic, dust-choked workshop cluttered with mystical components—bat wings suspended from rafters, jars of pickled rat bones lining crooked shelves—she crafts utilitarian enchantments for clients, ensuring rivals falter in ballet recitals or pedigrees triumph at dog shows.

Her history intertwines with reclusive sorcerer Mandrake and Erica’s mother through their former occult rock ensemble, Earwig—a legacy hinted at by vinyl records etched with forgotten spells. The circumstances of the band’s fracture and Bella’s decision to claim the orphaned girl remain veiled in half-truths and moth-eaten contracts.

Though initially exploiting Erica as a drudge under threats of hexes, Bella begrudgingly accommodates the girl’s cunning stratagems to command domestic spirits. Her fraught alliance with Mandrake oscillates between reliance on his warding incantations that fortify their home and clashes over his volatile reactions to breached boundaries.

Fissures gradually emerge in Bella’s callous facade as Erica masters the art of manipulating enchanted brooms and mirror-polished grudges. While never abandoning her mercenary ethos, the witch permits measured shifts in power—an unacknowledged compromise between survival instincts and the ghost of maternal bonds left by Erica’s lineage.