In Terrall, the existence of witches and wizards were rare. They were the gifted people capable of controlling unnatural forces through the use of a catalyst or by consuming up the mana of living and nonliving objects around them. Witchfolk was the precise term that they were called of as a whole. After Vitte, the First Witch, appeared six hundred years ago and gave away her powers in exchange for her death or so the legends say, Witchfolk began showing up. Most people did not accept their sudden entrance so easily because of three main reasons. The first reason, was because they were afraid of their strange, inhuman powers. Some looked up to them and likened them to a god's. Others considered them a blasphemy, a sign of false worship. The second reason, was that some people regarded them as a critical threat to humankind. Not all witches were born with equal talent, but among them, the powerful ones could easily destroy a small village if they wanted to. They were what most people called 'Titled' witches nowadays, those whose abilities were recognized by the capital kingdom. The third and most pressing reason, mainly, was because a few descendants from the Witchfolk used their own abilities over the Mortalfolk for their own desires.
In other words, they oppressed those who were powerless.
Even with the instigation of a law and the assembly of an elite squadron responsible for Witchfolk-related threats, it wasn't rare to hear about a witch or a wizard who used their powers for their own gain. As a result, those people who had been victims of their actions harbored a sense of deep hatred towards them. Many Mortalfolk had lost important things or important people close to them, while most had lost both. And now, as Chell looked at Noct, she suddenly realized that he was certainly the latter. From the look of resentment in his eyes, something and someone irreplaceable had clearly been taken away from him.
Chell decided not to ask deeper into the subject. She knew full well how hard it was to tell anyone about something she did not want to remember. She understood the pain brought upon by recalling memories that had been forced to be buried and restrained. Also, she knew it was unlikely the thief would tell her anything more. After all, Chell was just a mere stranger. A witch he naturally decided to hate, one he had accused to be the main cause of their current predicament.
Another silence blanketed the cell. The torchlight flickered restlessly outside the bars, partially illuminating their faces and sending flickering shadows that danced on the walls. Chell's mind wandered as she gazed into the shadows enveloping Noct. She wanted to escape already. To quickly run away from this place, the way she always did in the past. Time was moving and if she stayed any longer, Chell was afraid that everything around her would start to slowly be affected. She did not know how long she had stayed unconscious or how long it was going to be until the execution, but she needed to hurry. She did not like to risk inviting calamity again, like she had once before. That was a regret she would always have for the rest of her life.
But as of the moment, she could not leave yet. There were two reasons why she needed to stay. She needed to find the skull first, for one. It was her most important possession, the one thing she could never afford to lose. Not only was it because it was her magical catalyst, it was also because of another, much more important thing. For two, she still needed to know or find the reason why she had been guided here to Uldard by the dead, even with her current situation. Surely, she thought, it was something important. It had been their final guidance, and they had, after all, always done everything to help her with the best of their intentions. Before time ran out, she needed to resolve these two reasons. The only problem was, Chell had no idea how.
By the time she was done with her thinking, the healing spell had already been completed. She hadn't even noticed until Noct cast a glance at her injured side. She looked down and saw that the pattern of frost had disappeared, a sign that the spell was already done. Underneath her clothes, she knew that the mended flesh revealed no traces of the previous wound. The pain was already gone. Her breathing had steadied. Her head did not feel light anymore. Slowly, Chell retracted her hand from the wound and breathed out evenly. In front of her, Noct simply stared. She did the same.
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The Wandering Witch VOL. 1 - The Prelude Arc (COMPLETED)
FantasyIn the medieval continent of Terrall, the existence of witches and wizards are rare. Feared and persecuted by some while revered and glorified by others, most of them choose to live their lives safe in secrecy. But not all. Enter the Western kingdom...