The Wandering Witch VOL. 2 - The Witchfolk Genocide Arc

19.2| Sparking a Fire II

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"—Snow."

She opened her eyes from a dreamless sleep the moment she heard that familiar namesake.

Chell sat up. The room was dark and silent. Hours had passed since she'd retired to her bed. A thin silence draped over her, and the only light was from the far glow of the moon and the kingdom's night bustle that provided a dim outline of what she saw before her. There was no sign of anything that seemed to be the source of the whisper in her ear. Nothing alive, at least.

Chell would never mistake the voices of the dead.

From the corner of her eye, something moved in the shadows. A small boy suddenly emerged from the darkest corner, barefoot and dressed in common clothes. He looked no older than ten years old. Despite his appearance, however, a heavy air seemed to surround him. One look at the boy's unnaturally calm face would warn others that the child before them was something that wasn't human... or something that was human, before. He didn't make a sound as he moved. His eyes were cold and devoid of any sign of life. If Chell didn't know any better, she would have thought of him as an animated doll wearing the flesh of a human.

It was a spirit of the dead.

Her heart picked up in her chest. Something akin to joy and dread washed over her. The last time she had an encounter with them was with the masked one from Uldard, who had told her that Noct was the reason she was sent there. Since the night they had gone, their appearances—whether in her dreams or reality—usually meant only one thing: something was about to happen, and they were either there to deliver her a message or a warning.

She hoped it would be the former.

The child opened his mouth to speak. What came out of it was a sound that didn't belong to his appearance.

"... Snow," the boy repeated, voices a mix of dozens of others. It was the familiar cacophony of the dead speaking all that the same time.

Chell answered to him immediately.

"Yes... I'm here."

He beckoned her with a hand, deep gaze not tearing away from hers.

"... Follow us."

The dead turned and walked towards the door, passing right through its solid surface. Chell didn't need to be told twice to know what to do. She got up from her bed quietly and followed after him, stepping into the darkened corridors of the palace lit only by the lamps that adorned the walls. She looked around to find the dead boy, only to see him walking down the hall without looking back. They held no doubt that she would follow, and if Chell would get lost, she knew they'd come back to guide her again just as before.

She followed after him, silent in every action. She knew it would be bad if someone were to spot her prowling around at that hour, especially since Yoko's recent attack. The lull of the palace made it seem like it was at the bottom of the ocean, sleeping in the berth of the night. She focused her eyes on the young dead's back. She wondered where they were planning to take her.

They walked for some time, one dead and one living, the two beings that bore a deep connection. Chell was a Necrovitte, and a child with the Blessing of the Dead. It was her duty to guard the balance between the boundary of life and death, and also her duty to be the voice and ears of those who had passed.

The boy continue without any sign of hesitation in his steps. He made many turns and passed down various stairways. It seemed like walking through a maze. So far, she hadn't encountered anyone in the palace yet, and Chell realized that the path she was walking on might have been the dead's intention in order to stay hidden. She blinked, brushing away a strand of silver hair that had fluttered over her face.