Michael

Long ago, an event took place that made history. The witch race vanished from the face of the Earth. Books said they died out due to famine, but the truth was different.
One of the lords sought revenge, and succeeded: he committed genocide. Every witch was killed by his hands, but who exactly was unknown. This lord thought he had exterminated them all, but one witch survived. Their elder read a prophecy. It said: "Only one will be able to reveal the truth to the world."
The witches chose a chosen one. They gave her their magic, leaving her to die. The chosen one hid in the shadows after the genocide. She needed to learn to control her new power, for now lightning patterns appeared on her body, and this meant only one thing: the fate of the witch race depended on her alone.
She understood: to discover the truth, she needed an artifact possessed only by the vampire lords. Decades later, she resurfaced, seeking revenge without thinking. She sneaked into the castle, where a meeting of the lords was taking place. The witch wanted to steal the artifact. She was caught.
She wakes up on a platform, chained to the floor. Three lords stand before her, and around her are a multitude of vampires and even a couple of humans. "Execution," she guessed. She immediately began to think of a way out of this situation.
And then, just when she thought it was all over, she failed in such a stupid way... Smoke appeared around her, and then she found herself in the forest—free. In front of her... A vampire or a witch in male guise? He looked like a hybrid: the sharp fangs of a vampire and the black eyes of a witch.
The witch had just managed to realize what had happened when he spoke:
I'm Michael. But you don't have to remember. And bye. His voice rang out. Rough, cold, distant.
You... Who are you? And why did you save me? the witch replied, rising abruptly from the ground and clenching her fists. "What difference does it make? I just wanted to. And now goodbye," he replied and turned his back to her. And then the witch realized who it was. The books wrote about a hybrid: a lone Michael, who hid just like her, because he was a mistake of nature. His character: cold. Is he an ally or an enemy? Should he be trusted?

This world isn't as clear as it seems. There's a brutal hierarchy here. There are only three levels of society:

1. Vampires. They are the highest rung of the hierarchy. Vampires were usually, or rather, in most cases, aristocrats. Only rarely would you see a poor vampire, as they hid. They were all self-satisfied individuals. Each vampire thought only of themselves or money—that was their nature.
   All vampires had crystal-white skin, perfect figures, perfect expressive eyes, perfect hair. Behind all this mask and beauty, they hid one thing: bloodthirstiness. Vampires are cruel creatures, especially when hungry, but their own stereotypes prevent them from showing this dark side.
   Male vampires usually looked identical: all their costumes were tailored to a single ideal type. This included a white shirt, vest, dark trousers, and a cloak. All the costumes were embellished with gold.
   Women had it a little easier: they could wear whatever they liked, but long sleeves and below-the-knee skirts were required. Stereotypes were also to blame for this.
2. Witches. They were the second-class citizens of society. They had no stereotypes—only magic, which every witch was required to master. They dressed in hooded cloaks or pointed caps. Broomsticks were their mode of transportation: each witch had her own, according to her magic. They lived in villages deep in the forests.
   Many were afraid or wary of them, because they knew that with the help of magic, anything could be done - only the skill and level of the bearer could stop it.
   Witches had ranks. The level of magic corresponded to a certain rank. Lesser witches had black eyes and white skin—a sign of low rank. Higher witches had eyes a deep blue, like the night sky—a sign of the highest level. It was also very rare to find a witch with lightning or wave patterns on her body—a sign of the most powerful.
3. People. Here they are slaves. Simply living hands that create things or technology. They are also used as blood donors or slaves. They live in dungeons.