In a torrid clime there was a house of many marvelous virtues. Alone in this world, Encanto is ruled not by evil but by good.
To the north lies New Orleans. French ships periodically sail to conquer Encanto, but the winds of Pepa Madrigal's heart have so far prevented them from reaching shore. But the faces in Bruno's vision worry him, faces that are only pretending to be voodoo spirits.
To the south lies the Incan Empire. One night, twelve Incan soldiers leapt through the windows of Casa Madrigal, bottled the breath of everyone sleeping in the house, & flew away, carried by a giant purple hawk. A sorceress of the Andes brewed these pneumatic essences into thousands of crystal phials, laughing as she did so. Now her empire threatens Encanto's perimeter with its own abilities. Her armies clear the rain when attacking, & gather storms when defending. Sword-slashed soldiers jeer & pull out Chef Kronk's magical arepas, healing them instantly. Even the beasts of the jungle have been recruited: strong jaguar, swift toucan, tricky squirrel.