Chapter 1: The Good Witch of the Lake
Chapter 1: The Good Witch of the Lake
ROSE remembered the day she met Harij as if it were just yesterday.
It happened shortly after her grandmother passed away.
Still a fledgling witch at the time, Rose had failed at concocting a potion, which wasn’t all that unusual for her. However, it was the first time she had to go into the big city alone to stock up on ingredients.
The royal capital was just beyond the forest where she lived. For all she knew, the forest may have been a part of the capital, but neither she nor the witches before her acknowledged it as such.
The city was brimming with smiles, activity, and noise unlike anything Rose had encountered in the woods.
The main road, lined with stones carved to be the same shape, was surprisingly easy to walk on. Houses made of brick and tile stood in neat rows along the thoroughfare. Tents were set up in front of the houses, selling grain-filled jute bags, colorful vegetables in baskets, and other useful ingredients.
Under one of the tents from which rabbits and foxes hung, a shopkeeper conversed with a customer while they smoked puffing pipes. A horse-drawn carriage raced through the narrow space in front of them at a tremendous speed. Children entertained themselves by chasing after the fast rotating wheels.
The city was full of life and excitement, but Rose wasn’t in the right mindset to enjoy it. Anxiety filled her more than joy.
At the time, Rose had just taken over the house affairs and family business from her grandmother, and she was physically and mentally exhausted. She struggled to earn the trust of clients, and the chores she wasn’t used to doing alone kept piling up.
With a heavy heart, she forced one foot in front of the other down the unfamiliar capital road.
Whenever she ventured into the city before, she was shown around by her grandmother, who taught her everything about being a witch. Rose was confident that she knew more about the forest than anyone else, but the cityscapes created by people all looked the same.
Everyone in the city looked too busy to ask for directions. Moreover, they were all dressed in colorful and fashionable clothing. It never bothered Rose when she was with her grandmother, but she felt a tad self-conscious wearing a hand-me-down dress from her mother around all these fancy city people. Feeling pathetic again, her steps grew heavier. Too shy to inquire, she searched for the store her grandmother usually frequented by herself. By chance, she overheard people talking along the way.
“Oh yeah, did you hear?! The Witch of the Lake is dead!”
Rose stopped in her tracks and turned toward the conversation, which was being held in a café. The aroma of something delicious like nothing she had ever smelled before lingered in the air. Red-faced customers sat at the outdoor tables, each holding a large mug and shouting their conversation.
“What? You sure?! That old hag has been around since I was a wee lad!”
“Don’t they say she’s been alive for over two hundred years? And here I thought she would live for another hundred.”
Obviously her grandmother hadn’t lived for two hundred years. They probably mistook her for her great-grandmother, or her great-great-grandmother. Rose stepped forward to correct them, but what they said next stayed her feet.
“Well, either way, it’s for the better!”
Shock drained the color from her face. Rose couldn’t believe her ears. Her heart throbbed and she felt sick to her stomach.
“Having a witch living nearby tarnishes the city’s reputation.”
“Who knows what might happen to you if you accidentally incur the wrath of a fickle and cruel witch!”
“I told my children to never go into the woods unless they want to be devoured by the man-eating witch living there…”
“Now we have nothing to worry about.”
The customers laughed and sounded downright exuberant about the Witch’s demise.
Rose felt dizzy. Everything in front of her turned black and she started to forget how to stay standing.
Rose had no idea that the Witch was feared, that children were warned not to go into the woods, and that they so hated her kind that they would rejoice upon her grandmother’s death. To only realize this at her age told her just how sheltered from the world she was. Wondering if her grandmother knew of their malice horrified her.
If her grandmother had been aware, then she had always endured it alone and purposely shielded Rose from the truth. Perhaps Rose had been hiding from the grim reality behind her grandmother’s dress, never realizing she was being protected.
“Anyone who takes immense joy in someone else’s death is sick.”
A sharp voice reached Rose’s ears where she stood rooted to the ground outside the café. She lifted her head with a start, and a single teardrop slid down her cheek. She didn’t even know her eyes had filled with tears.
The speaker seemed to be a man dining at the table beside the loudly laughing customers. He was a tall man with ashen hair. His menacing expression enhanced the disgust in his words.
“Shopkeep, my bill.”
At the man’s summons, the café owner nearly tripped over himself as he ran out from behind the counter. “Yes, sir!”
The two customers who had been enjoying a good laugh were irritated over this uncalled-for interruption. They just wouldn’t let it go and had to say more to the man, without hiding their ire.
“Hey, buddy, it’s not a someone who died…but a witch, y’know?”
“Your point? Witches are people, too.”
The drunk customer was the one who challenged him, but he was silenced by how easily the man dismissed him. Shame washed over his face as if he had never deigned to think that the Witch might be an actual person.
“Has the Witch ever done anything bad to you?” the man challenged with a seriousness that was hard to argue with.
“No…”
“If it were me, I’d curse the rude bastards who rejoiced over my death. Say your prayers and hope that she is, indeed, a good witch.”
The man flayed the customers with a piercing glare, grabbed his cloak off the back of his chair, and stood.
When he turned around, he caught Rose’s eye outside the café. In the sunlight, his eyes were the blue of a shadow cast upon fresh winter snow.
Rose held her breath and worked up the courage to thank him, but he promptly broke their locked gaze. He had no idea that the very witch they were discussing was standing right in front of him. Whenever Rose went into the city, she shed the dark robe that marked her as a witch, as was her habit during the time her grandmother was still alive. She wore a black handkerchief around her hair since she was in mourning, but that wasn’t enough to make anyone think she was a witch.
The man fastened his fluttering cloak over his shoulders and gallantly walked off. The eye-catching indigo cloth rippled against his back in waves with his gait.
“Hey, Harij!”
“Sir Azm, please wait!”
The other men who had been seated at the table with Harij hurried to their feet. They all snatched up cloaks the same stunning shade of indigo.
Fear surged through the customers sitting at the café.
“C-Crap! He’s with the knights!”
“I sure hope you didn’t tick him off! This café isn’t responsible for its patrons!”
“Isn’t Azm the name of Heizlan’s lord?”
The café was in an uproar, but Rose wasn’t listening anymore. Her full attention was anchored on Harij and the indigo cloak flapping at his back as he walked.
“Harij Azm…” Her heart squeezed after uttering the name she had only just learned.
On that day, Rose fell in love.
In love with someone she could never have.
∴ ∵ ∴
THEN one day, the man she had a one-sided crush on for four years arrived at her front door—seeking a love potion to use on the person he loved.
That’s a good enough reason for me to sulk, Rose thought as she ground out her feelings by turning the quern-stone.
Prepare the requested potion in order to put food on the table—witches lived by that creed, and as a witch, Rose did the same on her small island.
But she couldn’t feed herself by only taking requests for specialty items crafted solely by witches.
Rose sold ordinary curatives to the merchant who regularly dropped by the hermitage. Special potions brewed by witches were too expensive to keep in stock.
“Special hair tonic that makes old hair healthy again if you leave it in for several minutes before washing it out.”
“Oils that will make you popular with the ladies if you use it to wash under your arms.”
“Salve that will make you warm if you rub it in your hands.”
“Powders that will relieve itchy soles.”
These were some of the most popular daily necessities people wanted to buy even though they were all ordinary curatives no one would assume were made by a witch. The plus was that they were cheap to make. She made them in large batches. Medicines for colds were naturally a part of her repertoire, but since almost every village had its own doctor these days, the demand for it was in decline. People would rather buy their medicine from a doctor than a witch.
Rose was currently in the process of making a powder that repelled insects when burned. Insect repellent was highly useful not only in one’s personal life, but also in fields, so it was in high demand. She needed to create a large batch for the upcoming harvest.
Once she finished her work, Rose stood up. Turning the quern-stone for hours caused her arms and back to ache. She started to stretch when her back bumped into a random magic tool propped against the wall. There were more objects stuffed in the room than open space in the cramped hovel.
Ding-a-ling.
A loud ringing filled the shack. Whenever someone approached the dinghy docked on the opposite shore, the bell in the hermitage was rigged to ring. Rose took two long strides over to the window and peered at the forest on her tippy-toes.
It turned out a deer had set off the bell, not a customer. She sighed with a mix of disappointment and relief.
The dinghy bobbed up and down on the lake without a care toward how she felt. At first glance, the small boat looked like it could be taken only one way, from the forest to the hermitage, but it was actually connected to the island by rope. By pulling the rope reel located on the dock in her garden, she could tow the dinghy to her. Therefore, even if the dinghy was on the forest side, Rose could go out by boat.
While the option to leave was there, she generally chose the life of a shut-in. She rarely boarded the dinghy to travel outside the forest.
She walked away from the window with her robe dragging behind her. Dust had turned her black robe gray. She wanted to wash it but couldn’t, because she didn’t know when Harij might visit. The robe was pivotal in hiding the emotions she couldn’t conceal.
“I have to buy another one…”
She had been using her grandmother’s and mother’s hand-me-downs all this time but had worn out or burned them while brewing potions, so she was wearing the last intact robe she had. The merchant’s next visit was two weeks away. That was a long time. She brought her sleeve to her nose and sniffed. It kind of reeked.
Smelling bad was worse than not having a robe to hide under. After struggling with the two choices, Rose decided on the troublesome option of washing it.
She grabbed several bottles from the shelf and dragged a wooden tub outside.
The lake was only a few steps away.
Surrounding the hovel on all sides, it sparkled radiantly under the bright sun. Dipping her hands in the water made them so cold it hurt; the water was freezing to the point it almost felt holy. Her ancestors may have settled in such a remote place because of this beautiful body of water. After all, high-quality raw materials were crucial to the creation of a witch’s secret potions.
Rose decided she might as well water the field while she was at it. She removed her robe and also her dress, leaving on only a chemise. She then scrubbed her clothes with the “potion to remove stubborn stains” that she had poured into the tub.
After debating it for a moment, she also poured in a “potion to sprinkle on your neck before a date.” She didn’t do it for any particular reason. Then she figured she might as well wash her hair with the fluffy white bubbles. She didn’t do that for any particular reason, either.
Ding-a-ling.
The bell rang again. Because it also served as a warning system, it was adjusted so she could hear it wherever she was no matter what she was doing.
“…No waaay,” she uttered in horror. How could it ring at a time when she not only was wearing just a thin chemise, but also had a head full of soap bubbles?
She had almost no relationship with the people who lived anywhere near the forest. People rarely traveled this deep into the woods, either.
It can’t be. What if he came right now…?
No, he wouldn’t. He has only ever visited me at night.
Even though she knew his visiting habits, she nervously looked up while feeling her heart sink into the pit of her stomach.
There he was—the same deer as before, with what she could swear was a smug look.
“Oh my gosh! Aaaah!”
Unable to take out her anger on anything else, she squeezed the side of the tub.
I really, really wouldn’t have minded if it was him! I really wasn’t washing up for any particular reason having to do with him!
She roughly rinsed out her hair and then dove into the lake with the chemise on. The icy coldness of the water permeated her body. After rinsing bubbles and dirt off underwater, she surfaced. The chemise that had been clinging to her body spread out in the water. She went ahead and just floated on the surface.
“…I wore myself out for no reason…”
She wasn’t used to the wild swing in her emotions. Rose had lived a long time alone, and she had gone through life repeating the same rote schedule every day.
Even the one-sided love she had developed four years ago was merely something she enjoyed reflecting on as a good memory.
Rose never intended to face her frank and raw emotions like this.
Aside from the merchant who came by on his runs, the Witch only received one visitor every few months, and even that wasn’t always so. That was why her heart jumped and sank every time the bell jangled.
Harij wasn’t coming to see Rose. He was coming to see the Witch.
Therefore, Harij wouldn’t care in the least if her hair was covered in bubbles or if she stank.
“I have to make myself understand that better,” she muttered with blue lips as she closed her eyes. Icy water flowed past her cheeks.
∴ ∵ ∴
“THIS is the rare fabric made from embroidering a flower that only blooms at the bottom of an oasis with beads crafted by a royal glass craftsman. And this is the pelt of a deep-sea monster that only surfaces during the Midnight Sun, which was procured from overseas. This colorful fabric here is indeed dyed with holy water from the Kingdom of Snow—the vivid color won’t fade no matter how often it’s washed.”
“I see…” Rose feigned indifference, though she was overwhelmed.
Colorful and resplendent fabrics were laid out in front of her, taking up more space than the narrow room had to offer. There was barely a place to stand because of Rose’s laziness with cleaning up, which spoke volumes of the merchant’s talent for displaying his wares.
“Now then, has anything caught your fancy, fair Witch of the Lake Rose?” asked the fox-eyed man who made even a humble witch feel like a princess. Tien Công, the merchant who had been selling to her family since her grandmother’s generation, smiled.
Rose held up one of the fabrics to hide from his all-knowing smile.
Her current predicament was caused by what was meant to be a casual request.
“By any chance, could you sell me a robe? Anything will do.”
Rose had broached the subject with an air of indifference while selling potions to Tien. But the merchant had known her since she was a little girl. His intuition picked up on more than what she was saying. The next day, he ferried across a store’s worth of goods on the boat, nearly tipping over in the process.
“By the way, I highly recommend the lavender material. I would love to see you in rose pink the most, but—”
“Absolutely not.”
Shuddering, Rose shook her head at the cloth he held up, which was so brightly colored it stung the eyes.
“I thought you would say that.”
Tien’s smart-aleck shrug irked Rose. She wanted to shove a pill in his mouth that “makes a monster with a black luster descend upside down when placed in the corner of the house.”
“Why did you only bring bright colors…?”
“You, the girl who didn’t have the slightest interest in dressing up because you could still wear your mother’s hand-me-downs, asked me for clothing. Can you blame me for going all-out? You wouldn’t even let me make you a robe after you took on the title of Witch of the Lake, despite how much I tried to persuade you. Don’t worry about the cost. Allow me to gift it to you as a belated present. I’ll prepare a whole set for you with a bang. Something adorable.”
“Something adorable…”
Am I stuck as a ten-year-old in Tien’s mind? Rose was slightly disturbed by how carried away Tien was getting.
Her first meeting with Tien was from behind her grandmother’s skirt. Meeting a young man for the first time was so frightening as a little girl, she hid behind her grandmother. Tien’s appearance hadn’t changed much since then. He was more than ten years her senior, but he descended from people of a distant foreign land and appeared much younger than he actually was.
From an early age, Tien learned the trade by accompanying his father peddling wares. And a good decade ago, he took charge of the Witch of the Lake account.
As with his father, Tien treated them well, and the change wasn’t an inconvenience. The Côngs had been very accommodating all the way back to her grandmother’s era. Without them, Rose may not have even been able to give her grandmother a proper burial.
Rose couldn’t reject him too hard because of what his family had done for hers. At her wit’s end, she swept her gaze over the flood of colors covering the room. She didn’t know much about fashion, but she could tell each fabric was first-class material carefully selected per Tien’s unique tastes. She couldn’t risk wearing them to work in the mud, boil nuts, make herbal decoctions, or do any of the many other dirty jobs her work as a witch entailed.
None of the colors seem to suit me, but I know he wouldn’t bring anything that will look bad on me. Then she spotted a deep indigo material in the sea of bright colors and unwittingly smiled.
“What’s this? Did that one catch your eye? Hold on a moment. Let’s see how it looks against you.”
“Don’t. Tien, just stop,” she commanded, grabbing hold of Tien’s sleeve. Perhaps she spoke too strongly; she was practically admitting that she had an interest.
The indigo fabric was the exact same shade as Harij’s cloak. Wearing a robe tailored from that fabric would surely make her feel like she was wrapped in his mantle. But then she ran the very real risk of being absolutely distracted by her clothing.
Tien pulled a large catalogue from his bags, seemingly deciding to cut Rose a little slack because she was acting different from usual.
“See if there’s anything you like in here. These are the colors that will look good on you.”
Several dozen sample fabrics were glued to the page he opened up to her. Rose poked her face out of the hood and took a closer look at it.
“This material and this material may look plain, but they have been woven to have a floral pattern that really stands out under sunlight.”
“I rarely venture outside when it’s sunny, so I prefer something without any gimmicks. Something I would feel comfortable wearing all the time.”
“Then this is the color for you. It’s called viridian blue—the color of your beloved forest,” Tien explained in a soft and calm voice. Rose felt more comfortable with his recommendations when he wasn’t overly excited. He pinched a fabric between his fingers. It was the same color of the forest reflected on the lake.
Rose’s expression didn’t change, but seeing the way she was captivated by the single fabric, Tien smiled. “Let’s go with this one. It’s woven using silk and gold thread, which makes it exceptionally more beautiful under lamplight.”
“It’s not like I’m trying to be prettier for someone—”
“Either way, it is my obligation as a merchant to explain my wares regardless of what the customer is going to use it for.”
She couldn’t argue with that. Tien offered a satisfied little smile when Rose pressed her lips in a flat line.
“Now then, how about some lipstick and blush while we are at it? It will give you a rosy complexion.”
“My complexion will be rosy enough if I slap my cheeks.”
“I can’t stand for my adorable witch constantly slapping her cheeks to give them color. Pinks with a bluish tint will look absolutely wonderful on your porcelain-white skin.”
“Are you implying I look pale because I don’t go out in the sun much?”
“You have had the bad habit of interpreting everything said to you in a negative light since you were a little girl. All right, which lipstick container do you prefer? On this one you can see the side profile of Countess Taguil, a fashionista famed throughout the royal capital, while this container made with mother-of-pearl took the craftsman three years to create.”
Tien ended up gifting Rose with all sorts of goodies because she couldn’t make up her mind. Rightly assuming he wouldn’t stop even if she asked him to, Rose gave up making remarks for the latter half of their time together.
Rose returned to brewing potions then, too, but that didn’t stop Tien from coming back several days later with a literal boatload of goods, exasperating the Witch beyond words.
∴ ∵ ∴
HARIJ paid his next visit to the Witch’s hermitage well after the sky had grown dark.
The moon hanging in the sky had waned to the shape of a cat’s claw. Stars twinkled brightly to make up for the lacking moonlight. Thin clouds whisked by in the night breeze, casting a shadow over the forest. Harij stealthily made his way through the forest while blending into the dark.
The bell announced a visitor with a ding-a-ling, and Rose quietly peered outside through the window. The dock across the lake was faintly illuminated by a lantern’s flame. Spotting the person she had been eagerly awaiting caused her heart to race. The orange light swayed in the dark like a jack-o’-lantern as it steadily crossed the distance.
Rose felt restless, like a hen in a henhouse frightened by an intruder who came to steal her eggs.
She opened her closet. Inside was the viridian-blue robe Tien gifted her the other day. The robe was expertly woven with silk threads of the same color, just slightly more subdued, embroidering the cuffs and hemline. Rose was grateful to Tien, but she had yet to wear this robe in front of anyone.
When she stopped to think about it with a clear head, she realized wearing it would be like announcing she had ordered a new outfit just for Harij.
In the end, she stowed the robe deep within the closet with a sigh after petting it. As for the lipstick and blush, she didn’t have the courage to even try them on, as bad as that made her feel about Tien’s generosity.
She wanted Harij to remember her as herself, and not as a foolish witch who tried too hard to put on makeup and doll herself up.
A dull thud came from beside her hovel—the sound of the boat docking at the island. Rose dusted off her old mended robe with a few pats. She looked at her reflection in the water jug and improved her complexion by pinching both cheeks. Then she shuffled over to the door and waited.
Afraid that nervousness made her face looked tight and ugly, she began counting in her head. By the time she reached six, she sensed someone in front of the door. Seven, eight, nine…
Just as she was wondering whether she was counting numbers or her own racing heartbeat, there was a knock.
Rose slowly breathed in and opened the door. The bell jingled overhead.
“Welcome. Did you get ahold of what I asked for?”
My voice isn’t shaking, is it? I don’t have a stupid grin on my face, do I? Rose looked up at her visitor after taking special care to school her appearance. Harij was quite tall, so Rose had to crane her neck back to see his face. He’s good-looking no matter when I see him. She wanted to enjoy the sight of him.
He handed her the lantern, which had been removed from its stick. She placed it on top of the fireplace as was her custom. She needed to lock her jaw to keep from smiling at the city lantern perched beside her tiny old one.
“Yeah. Check for yourself.”
Rose accepted the ingredients with both hands. Harij pulled out a chair from the table and heavily sat down. She was grateful for visitors who could seat themselves. Some among her clients wouldn’t sit unless she pulled out the chair for them, although, since she didn’t really care if they sat down, she never did.
Harij heaved a loud sigh. He seemed frustrated, which led Rose to quietly inquire, “Are you tired? I have a potion to replenish your energy.”
“Don’t need it.”
Instant refusal. Even in the poorly lit room she could read the clear skepticism on his face. Apparently, he didn’t believe in witches’ secret potions.
Then why request a love potion?
Rose sensibly pretended not to notice the contradiction. She had already spent too much time miserably thinking of all the reasons why he came seeking a love potion.
I’m glad I didn’t put on lipstick.
Depressed, she slowly moved past the cauldron to her work space. She tried to slide open the cabinet door next to her workbench, but something was jammed inside. She placed the materials from Harij on the workbench, then grabbed the sliding door with both hands and yanked it to the side.
CRASH! SHATTER! Something definitely broke inside the cabinet, but she pretended not to hear it. Feeling someone’s gaze on her back, Rose turned around only to be met with Harij’s incredulous stare.
“Did something just break?”
Rose didn’t answer. Anything she chose to say ran the risk of being a lie.
“…Can’t you clean up the place a bit?”
“Unfortunately, there’s no magic that can automatically clean a room.”
“You have hands…”
Rose answered his inquisitorial stare with a shrug. Her two hands could cast magic, yes, but they couldn’t clean a room. For she was a witch. No matter what anyone had to say about it, “Because I’m a witch” was her response. Indefinitely.
Assuming the conversation was over, she proceeded to look through what Harij had brought, which turned out to be exactly what she had asked for. She was about to get to work when he started talking again.
“Hey, what is this?”
“Oh, that’s lettuce from a few days ago.”
Harij was obviously disgusted by the plate of wilted greens he picked up off the table. Those were the leftovers of what she had been snacking on while mixing a potion and had forgotten about when her work demanded her full attention. Condensation covered the lettuce, and it smelled funky. The parts touching the plate were completely discolored, and not even Rose considered it edible now.
“…You only ever eat lettuce, Lady Witch. Is there a special reason for that?”
“No. Lettuce is the only vegetable grown in my garden. I can snack on it without any prep work aside from washing the leaves.”
“Huh?” There was a one-second pause before he said the same word again. “Huh? Lettuce is all you consume?”
“I eat other food when I go out, but…it’s my staple diet, yes.”
Does he have a problem with that? Is he interested in what witches eat?
This time Rose gave a skeptical nod. Harij rose from his chair, careful not to knock anything over, and skirted around the cauldron to get to her.
He grabbed her arm while she was too surprised to react, moving so fast she didn’t even see him reach for her. His movement was befitting of his rank as a super elite S-class knight, but she wished he would show more restraint around her.
“…Chicken legs have more meat on them than this.”
“You surely jest…”
Harij was holding her wrist and closely assessing her. Sweat threatened to burst out of the pores on her face.
No matter what this man says, he has a nice face. I don’t care how many times I’ve thought this tonight—he really is handsome!
His eyelashes, which seemed to have four times the volume and length of hers, fluttered every time he blinked.
Unable to endure the weapon that was his face being so close to her any longer, Rose turned her head away.
That finally made Harij realize he wasn’t dealing with one of his subordinates. “Sorry,” he said, releasing her hand.
“Don’t be.”
It took everything she had just to utter those two words. Under her robe, she pressed a hand against her rollicking heart. It was pounding like crazy.
After regaining a modicum of calm, she spoke to him in a commanding witch’s voice. “I shall proceed with the preparations using the ingredients you have brought me thus far. The next step takes time, so please come back in a month.”
“You need more time…?”
In response to the depressed grumble she heard above her, Rose gave a professional bow of her head.