In a quiet room, filled with the gentle breathing of a young woman...
...all of a sudden, said young woman’s small button nose was squashed.
Cecily let out a muffled scream as she was startled awake. But no matter how much she wriggled, whatever it was that blocked her nose and mouth wouldn’t budge.
“Mmf! Grmf!”
Cecily slowly opened her eyes after a moment of silent struggling. Through eyes made blurry by sleep, she could see a pair of fuzzy legs. Steeling her resolve to get up, Cecily slowly forced herself upright.
“Morning, Rolo.”
As she yawned her good morning, Rolo let out a meow in reply as if to say, Finally up, huh?
Stretching in order to shake off the last vestiges of sleep, Cecily got out of bed. She poured freshly drawn cold water from the well into a small bucket and washed her face.
Finally properly awake, she cut a slice of bread from a loaf and topped it with salted ham and cheese. Then, checking to see what food she had left, Cecily tapped her chin in thought.
“Looks like I’ll have to head out today after all,” she murmured.
She fixed herself a salad alongside the bread using vegetables that had been grown in the allotment behind the house. Then, as usual, she laid out some dried fish for her darling yet greedy cat who always craved a big breakfast.
Rolo let out a contented purr as he crunched on the fish’s head. Watching him, Cecily sat down at the small table and began her own breakfast.
The trees outside, laden with leaves, peered in through the window. The sound of birds chirping to one another filtered in through the glass. It was a peaceful morning, just like any other.
Six years had already passed since Cecily found out she was a witch, making her sixteen now.
She wasn’t particularly stunning, but she was a young woman with a pleasant-enough appearance. She had almond-shaped eyes, and her shoulder-length hair that lightly curled at the ends was somewhat feline. Her figure was well proportioned, with the baby fat that came with a girl of her age. During her walks about the town, she would perhaps catch the attention of a few young men.
However, her only company was the pet cat who occasionally mewed at her. The table where she ate and did her sewing was the perfect size for one person, while her home, too, was big enough for a girl who lived on her own.
It was around a year ago that Cecily had been forced out of the witch village she was born and raised in.
One of the laws of witch society states that, when a witch turns fifteen, she must spend two years journeying the world. This rule was implemented in order to broaden the scope of these young witches.
The term “witch” referred to all women who possessed the special powers of magic. The red eyes that they were born with were their defining feature. Witches had never been populous in any era, but in the present day, there were fewer than a dozen. This was because even if a witch had a child with a human, that child was not guaranteed to be a witch. Many thought that the number of witches would simply continue to drop of its own accord.
Cecily’s father, too, was just a regular human without any magical powers.
Receiving the news that she was to leave her family, Cecily wailed and cried as she tightly held her overprotective father, asking him to sort things out for her. Pitying his beloved daughter who had to abide by this unnecessarily cruel law, he tried to protect Cecily, but unfortunately, Greta was unbudging.
Although she was a free soul, Greta respected the rules of witch society and cast her crying daughter from their home.
Cecily was, naturally, at a loss. After all, she was an incredibly shy and introverted witch.
Travel the world? No way. Out of the question. Talk about scary.
I wanna head back to my village where everyone I know lives...
Tears flowing from her eyes, Cecily had crossed mountains and valleys before finally ending up at her current home: a small hut located in a forest on the outskirts of the royal capital. The hut was a small, shabby thing, and had probably been used in the past by a woodcutter or a charcoal burner. However, to Cecily, it was her castle.
That wasn’t all. The forest was known in the capital for being deep and treacherous, which meant that there wouldn’t be any unwelcome visitors. Living without the fear of running into anyone unexpectedly was any introvert’s biggest dream.
Cecily had cleaned up the hut and spent her time making and bringing in furniture, eventually transforming the inside into an amenable space.
As for her black cat Rolo, he was a gift from her mother, meant to appease a crying daughter.
On that first night after being cast from her home, Cecily had curled up inside the hollow space of a tree and cried herself to sleep while clutching Rolo close. Even now, she experienced similarly cold and dark nights.
After finishing her breakfast, Cecily carefully brushed her teeth and got ready to head out. Changing out of her nightwear into a pinafore dress, Cecily stood in front of her dresser to brush her hair. As she did so, she suddenly remembered to apply her eye drops. These were special, magical eye drops, prepared by Cecily herself, that changed the color of her eyes.
Greta had taught Cecily a number of potion recipes, but the only one that Cecily made on a regular basis was the eye drop concoction. As she blinked, her red eyes gradually softened into a flaxen color—a disguise to protect her from harm.
After checking her reflection in the mirror, Cecily was ready to go.
This was another of the witches’ rules: Whenever heading out into company where witches are not present, a witch must alter the color of her eyes. If not, there will be no end to the influx of people who desire her potions for selfish reasons. Really, it was a rule designed for self-protection.