The Wandering Witch VOL. 2 - The Witchfolk Genocide Arc

15.2| Royal Hospitality II

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    She opened her eyes to the view of an unfamiliar ceiling. For a short moment, the scene reminded Chell of what had happened in the dim cell in Udlard, five days before. However, instead of the damp, hardened layer of the ground, she was greeted with an impeccably white and smooth surface. Confusion gripped her as her feeling of fear from the nightmare slowly ebbed away. She was in a place she did not recognize.

    Slowly, she sat up. As the last traces of sleep left her, she realized that she was inside an enormous, grandiose-looking room. The bed where she had been laying was easily larger than any she had ever slept on. To her right was a vanity desk where a large mirror was propped, reflecting the light of the moon that streamed in from the enormous open doors that led out to a wide balcony. The soft glow provided enough light for her to see the faint outlines of a round table and two chairs in the middle of the room. Various paintings hung from the walls, depicting different artistic scenes. Meanwhile, a row of closets lined the other side of the bed.

    Chell blinked, unable to believe what she was seeing. Clearly, there was a mistake. She did not know how she had somehow ended up inside a wealthy person's home.

    Dimly, she tried to recall the last thing that she could remember, grasping for anything that might explain why she was there. But it was useless, however. No matter how much Chell racked her mind, she drew a blank. The memory of the nightmare was still there, just at the surface of her consciousness. Somehow, she could still feel the boy's tight grip, harrowing on her arm. Whenever she blinked, she could see the corpse of his hollow face.

    She shuddered. By habit, Chell pulled out her hands in front of her. For a few seconds, she stared at them. A sense of relief came to her when she saw that the bindings were still there, wrapped tightly from her wrists to the tips of her fingers. She breathed a small sigh.

    Suddenly, the soft hum of a familiar tune caught her attention. Her head snapped up, turning to the open doors where the sound was coming from. The balcony, she thought. It had been going for a while now, although it was only now that the witch had noticed it. For a few heartbeats, Chell simply stayed there, listening to the low hum that reverberated peacefully around the empty room. It sounded achingly nostalgic. Then, slowly, she decided to slip out of the bed. Her bare feet touched the cold surface of the floor as she got up unsteadily. Without making a single sound, she approached the sound with small steps.

    When she arrived at the balcony, Chell was suddenly met with a cold gust of wind. She winced, feeling herself being lightly pushed back. A small worried frown morphed on her face. She had not realized how weak and lightheaded she felt. However, as she blinked and surveyed her surroundings, all rational thoughts disappeared from her head in an instant. For a slight moment, the only thing that Chell was able to do was stare in awe at the vast view that sprawled out before her.

    In the realm of the darkness, the kingdom of Gisnell was a breathtaking sight. Above, thousands of stars peppered the dark sky, casting a dull glow over the continent. Below were rows of lamplights that lit up the night in a warm, orange glow, stretching on for miles and miles within the domain of the kingdom. From her high vantage point, Chell could easily see the different parts of the kingdom. However, the most impressive sight was located at the far right, where signs of life were lit ablaze. Chell could see the crowd of people making their way through the blinding torchlights of the narrow streets where gamblers, entertainers, pleasure-seekers, and the like went to partake in their nightly endeavors. The neighborhood held an air of lawless freedom, inviting in customers and wanderers alike with tell-tale signs and exquisite decorations. Chell saw an open theatre performing in front of an applauding crowd. She saw a burst of low, colorful fireworks made from swaths light that she was certain could only be the product of a witch. She saw a crowd of people cheering happily from the window of what looked like a gambling house, wobbling with bottles of alcohol in their grips. Chell looked away, once again reveling in the entire view. Everything seemed like a scene worthy of a painting.