The Wandering Witch VOL. 2 - The Witchfolk Genocide Arc

15.1| Royal Hospitality II

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C H E L L

    In the dream, she was a child again.

    Chell was walking alone in the middle of a forest path underneath a bright day. The soft grass underneath her bare feet muffled the sound of her footsteps as she made her way slowly through the undergrowth. Around her, olden trees twisted from the earth and towered above, their branches shielding her from the heat. From an outsider's eyes, the thick forest seemed wide and confusing. Many considered it as a dangerous maze that spanned for miles and miles, ready to claim any lost people who happened to wander inside. Chell had been warned countless of times never to leave the trail unless she wanted the risk of losing direction. But she never did, however. Even if it happened, the dead were always there to guide her back.

    Her eyes flickered through the trees, looking at the familiar scenery that stretched out before her. At the same time, she kept glancing at the small, brightened opening at the end of the trail far ahead. Her destination lay beyond it. Every silent step brought her closer and closer, until finally, she arrived underneath the last branch and emerged on the other side.

    She covered her eyes from the sudden burst of sunlight, blinking a lot. The forest opened out into a magnificent glade where the smell of the flowers and earth was carried over by a slight, warm breeze. She retreated her hand and looked around, squinting.

    "—Chell!"

    At the sound of her name, she turned immediately towards the voice that had called out to her. A few feet farther to her right, a little boy was crouched over the ankle-length grass, bending down to look at something. His white hair, colored in a hue just like hers, glinted occasionally as it reflected the sunlight. He gestured with a small, pale hand and waved at her. For some reason, the rays of the sun unnaturally concealed his facial features. It was as if a thin veil had been draped over it. Chell could not even properly see his eyes.

    Her feet moved towards his direction. As she kneeled beside the boy, she caught sight of the thing that he was bent over at. It was a small, obscure-looking brown object. When she got closer, however, she realized that it was, in fact, the corpse of a baby bird. One of its wings, she noticed, was bent at an odd angle. Broken.

    "It's sad, isn't it?" The boy muttered quietly beside her as he stared at it. "It must have been blown away from its nest the night before. Remember the thunderstorm last night?"

    Chell nodded. She kept silent, not knowing what to say. Instead, she simply stared at it. Somehow, a wave of sadness washed over her at the sight of the dead animal.

    "If I could have gotten here sooner... perhaps it could have been saved," he whispered solemnly. Behind them, a flock of birds suddenly flew from the trees, the sound of their flapping wings loud in her ears.

    "... It wasn't your fault, " Chell reassured, turning to look at his unclear face. "That's the way the gods decreed it. This one's time was supposed to end today. It can't be helped."

    He shook his head, reaching out to gently touch the corpse with his fingers and feeling the blanket of death that had enshrouded its pitiful withering body. "Hm... perhaps it was..." he trailed off. "But don't you think that's a bit cruel? For the gods, I mean. How could they decide how and when a life should end?"

    She took a moment to collect her answer, searching for it in her mind. "That's because they created everything. And they have the power to end the things they create whenever they like it. Or at least... that's what teacher told me."

    The boy pulled his hand back. The moment he had, the bird's flesh withered away into sand and sank back into the ground until there was nothing that remained. He gripped his fingers into a loose fist.