I flew for about two days after leaving the village, before I happened across a caravan crossing a plain.
Beside the wagons, three children and a young man and woman were having a friendly chat. I was gazing admiringly at the tranquil scene when their eyes eventually landed on me.
“Heeey! Traveling witch! Where are you headed?”
Where am I headed?
I myself didn’t have the answer to that question. My broom naturally came to a stop in front of them. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even know whether there were even any countries in the direction that I was flying.
So I opened my mouth and immediately asked, “Are there any countries around here?”
“Any countries around here…? No, none right nearby, but—,” the man who seemed to be the leader of the caravan party answered me. He seemed perplexed. “Do you mean to say that you’ve been flying along on your broom without even knowing where you’re headed…?”
“Yes.”
“You’re quite the strange one, huh…?”
I understand that already.
“Miss, are you lost?” a young child asked from behind the man who seemed to be the leader. It was a boy, about five years old.
I didn’t even know whether or not I was lost.
To begin with, what does being lost mean?
I didn’t even know the definition.
“…If you don’t mind, would you tell us about yourself?”
The man who seemed to be the leader of the caravan party smiled kindly at me when I was stumped for an answer.
They were kind people as well.
✦ ✦ ✦
When I asked, they told me they were a family-operated caravan. Apparently, they went around trading their wares as they traveled the wide world as a family.
The man who was the leader was the head of the family and the head of the enterprise. Second-in-command was his wife. It sounded like the three children mostly assisted them.
“We wanted the kids to know how big the world is from the time they were small, you see—that’s why I decided we would do this job as a family.”
After hearing a bit about my circumstances and sympathizing with me a little, the leader launched into an energetic explanation about everything that led him to want to start this caravan.
Sitting beside him, his wife said, “The kids are happy with it,” and stroked the children’s heads.
The oldest was seven, the middle child was five, and the youngest was three. Two boys and a girl, with the girl being the middle child.
“Having this unique experience at a young age will definitely be an asset to them in the future.”
The man talked about the details of forming his caravan business. He looked just like an innocent child who was lost in a dream. Looking at his bright eyes reminded me of some of the children who had been with me while I was at the orphanage.
The man estimated that even if I kept flying on my broom, it would probably take me three days to reach the closest country.
That kind man told me I could travel with the caravan for a little while.
I took him up on that offer.
I traveled with their family for about a week.
They were peaceful days. I spent almost every day playing with the children. Occasionally, we studied together. Apparently, the second-in-command could use a little bit of magic, and she taught me some of the principles of spellcasting, since I couldn’t properly handle even the barest basics.
All I did during those days was take advantage of those people’s generosity.
“Is there nothing I can do for you?” I asked the leader.
With a smile, he said, “You’ve been a big help to us already, just by playing with the children. The experience of playing with a girl a little older than them for a week will also be an asset to them, I’m sure.”
He told me, “I want them to try all sorts of things, come in contact with all sorts of stuff, and meet, talk to, and get along with all sorts of different people. If they experience a lot of different things, that will lay the foundation for the rest of their lives.”
After a week had gone by, we arrived at a certain country.
I separated from them there.
“We are planning to go do business in a country a little farther down the road, you see, so—we came here along the way.”
He said that, and then the head of the family business verified my identity to the gate guard and shouldered the expense of my entry.
As a parting gift, he handed me some amount of money.
I protested that I hadn’t done anything to deserve the money he was offering—I shook my head, and the man laughed and stroked his children’s hair.
My journey had been nothing if not blessed by kind people.
The caravan left the country, and I stood there waving as their wagons grew ever smaller.
And vowing that I would experience a lot of different things in this new country.