Chapter 2: The Witch and the Mysterious Visitor
THE lake didn’t dry up just because Rose had changed. It was still the same forest—none of the animals died off, nor did the trees stop producing fruit because she was gone.
The same, however, could not be said of Rose. To her, the lake was her precious childhood home, and the forest was vital to her work. If either changed, she wouldn’t be able to continue serving as a witch in the same capacity as before. For Mother Nature, a witch is but a tiny speck of existence.
One such trivial witch arrived at the forest first thing in the morning. The fog hovering over the lake dispersed through the trees as if blowing away with the dawn light.
Flowers that had been in bloom not too long ago dropped their petals, their time having come to an end. With firm footsteps, Rose walked on the trail strewn with scattered petals. The dewy leaf mold tried to swallow her feet with every step, so it took a certain level of skill to glide over it without losing a shoe.
She filled her basket with the fallen petals, selecting only the prettiest ones with little to no fading—as the ingredients for a potion, of course.
Bending over every time was arduous work. Her lower back was already aching in protest. “Mm!” She stretched as she rubbed the throbbing area.
Right at that moment, she heard a faint voice carried to her on the forest’s breeze. Assuming it was a beast’s cry, she lowered her hood, cupped her hands over her ears, and carefully swept her gaze over her surroundings.
Judging by the rhythm of the sound, it seemed to be human. Their words grew clearer as she moved toward the voice.
“Is anyone there?! Somebody help me!”
They sounded awfully panicked, though their voice was muffled, so it was hard to discern where they were.
Rose warily looked around until she found the speaker. The voice was coming from a gaping hole in the middle of the forest. It was a trapping pit used for hunting big game.
The person seemed to have fallen into the hole because it was hidden under layers and layers of dead leaves. Someone must have forgotten to fill the pit once they were done with it.
I have this old memory of Grandmother using it… Nah, it can’t be. Surely Rose had remembered wrong.
“Is…someone up there?” the person asked from the pit after hearing the leaves and twigs snapping under Rose’s feet.
Rose peered into the hole. Sunlight barely reached the forest depths, rendering it impossible to see the speaker at the bottom of the pitch-black pit. But, judging by the voice, it sounded like a young girl.
“I’m saved…”
The girl’s tone instantly changed from distressed to hopeful. The pit was dug at a steep angle to prevent animals from climbing out, which meant it was too difficult for the young girl to scale without help.
If by any chance—one in a billion chance—this was indeed dug up by Grandmother, then it’s potentially my responsibility.
Believing it to be her problem, Rose reluctantly removed her robe and placed her hand on the edge of the pit. She dangled her robe over the side with her free hand, careful not slip in herself. The robe would have to do since she didn’t have any rope on hand. Understanding Rose’s intentions, the girl firmly grabbed the fabric.
“Thank you! You can pull me up now!”
“I can’t. I don’t have the strength to pull you up, so you will have to climb up on your own.”
“Climb up…on my own? Me? There isn’t anywhere to place my feet.”
“Why don’t you kick the wall and create a gap where you can stick in your foot?”
The girl seemed dismayed by Rose’s suggestion at first, but she began kicking regardless of any misgivings. Rose was worried the pit might collapse on her if she kicked the loose forest-dirt wall too hard, but telling her would only frighten the girl into doing nothing at all.
After some struggle, the girl managed to climb out. Rose’s energy for the day was totally drained after supporting the girl’s weight with the robe. She flopped back on the leafy ground with the girl and caught her breath.
“Why…is there a hole in…such a place? Why did this happen to me…?” Chagrin filled the girl’s voice now that she no longer had to despair about being in the pit.
Sludge dripped in globs from the girl’s fancy cloak and dainty shoes. The bug slime and sap would never come out no matter how hard she scrubbed those clothes. So much mud had caked in her hair, it was impossible to tell what color it used to be. Her muddy tresses were a tangled mess that looked more like a baking accident than hair, and it absolutely needed to be combed out before it hardened.
Rose stared idly at the girl. Chubby cheeks with big, round eyes. Each of the girl’s features was defined to perfection, so much so that even though she was caked in mud, Rose could still marvel at her beauty.
“Aaah! I went through so much trouble to have it prepared, too…!”
The girl had clung dearly to something wrapped in an extravagant cloth the entire time she had struggled her way out of the pit, so when she saw it crushed flat, she buried her face in her hands and lamented.
Judging from her speech and mannerisms, she sounded more like a noble than one of the local children. And if she was of the aristocracy, she might have been accompanying a client. All the aristocrats who ventured this deep into the forest had business with the Witch.
“…I cannot go through with it looking like this…”
Disheartened, the girl stared down at her attire and tried wiping off the clumps of filth. She was bound to be scolded by her parents for looking as if she’d just had a mud bath.