She Is Not a Witch

After conversing all evening, Daytis’s curiosity was satisfied, but Loranhil still felt uncomfortable with her overly familiar personality.

In comparison, the girl was slower to warm up to others. It was difficult for her to suddenly become close with someone. In her memories, she had always been like this, preferring to stay at home alone rather than go out with a group of people, whether it was reading, sleeping, or gaming—she was more at ease by herself.

Daytis invited Loranhil to participate in a gathering of witches. After much consideration, Loranhil politely declined Daytis’s kind offer. Although it might have provided her with many opportunities for guidance and assistance, it would also strongly label her as a witch.

Trina’s late-life records barely mentioned the situations of other witches, focusing more on documenting the hardships and victories in the establishment and expansion of the Mercury Dynasty. This was something Loranhil greatly admired.

Trina had truly given much thought to these issues, and had elaborated in detail on the reasons and processes behind the formation of various laws.

Loranhil had a vague feeling that Trina didn’t actually like the identity of being a witch, but never explicitly said so. Therefore, to err on the side of caution, Loranhil didn’t want to get involved with a powerful organization she couldn’t resist, especially when she didn’t fully understand the situation.

She preferred to be herself, a girl named Loranhil, rather than one of these strange and powerful beings known as witches.

“Alright, since you don’t want to right now, I won’t force you too much.”

Daytis was a bit disappointed. She had thought she could easily win over this pretty and cute junior, but didn’t expect her to be so principled.

However, as Trina was once the person Daytis respected the most, she still wanted to offer some protection and help to Loranhil, Trina’s student.

“By the way, have you been feeling very sleepy lately?”

“Mm… Sometimes I want to keep sleeping even after sleeping for a whole day,” Loranhil recalled and confirmed.

“That’s normal. After awakening, you need time to adjust. You’ll often fall into deep sleep, and not just for a day or two—it could last up to a year.”

“No way, wouldn’t I starve to death sleeping for a year?”

“You won’t. You’ll be in a state of suspended animation, and you won’t be completely unconscious. You can wake up at any time, but you’ll still feel sleepy afterward. You need to sleep for the required amount of time before gradually returning to normal.”

“When I awakened, I slept on and off for 8 months at Sister Trina’s place before slowly returning to normal.”

“Oh, I see. Looks like I’ll need to prepare for the long term. What’s the longest record for sleeping?”

“As far as I know, it should be the Book Witch, Siye. She slept for a full two years before slowly returning to normal.”

“That’s so long…”

“So for now, it’s best not to go out. Just rest well here. This maple forest is quite safe—if it weren’t for me, other witches might not even be able to find it.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Loranhil obediently listened to her senior’s advice.

Then Daytis took out a black candle.

“This is for you. It’ll make your life much more convenient.”

[Shadow Candle] (Perfect Coral grade): When lit, the shadowy flame can transform into things imagined by the user. The transformed objects last for three days, with a maximum quality of Gold grade. (The transformed items must be understood by the user.)

“Although it can only create reality lasting three days, it’s still very useful.”

“I’d rather not, thank you, Sister Daytis.” Loranhil curtsied slightly, politely declining the gift.

Nothing in life comes for free. Accepting such a valuable item from someone means owing them a favor. In the future, it would be difficult to refuse when they ask for something or make requests.

Some might think this is a small matter, not worth taking so seriously. But this is how people gradually fall, step by step.

Seeing Loranhil’s seriousness, Daytis felt a bit of a headache, but also some admiration. Should she say, as expected of Sister Trina’s student? Their characters were so similar.

“Well, how about this? I really like the fabric you wove. You can use that to exchange for these two items.”

“But the values are too different.” Loranhil shook her head cutely, her clear gaze unwavering.

“You can give me more, you know. I can trade them with other witches for some things. Actually, you don’t understand the situation. High-quality fabric is very rare, and witches are women too—they all like beautiful clothes.”

“Alright then, how much do you need?”

“Five bolts would be enough.”

“Okay, I understand.”

Daytis was very happy to see the girl agree.

“Then I’ll come to see you again in a while, little Loran~”

After their conversation, Daytis no longer disturbed the girl’s life and summoned her unicorn carriage.

Two black unicorns, treading on pale blue flames, walked to the clearing outside the cottage in the night. The black-dressed girl boarded the magnificent carriage and turned to bid farewell to Loranhil.

“Well then, see you next time, cute little Loran~”

Daytis had given Loranhil a nickname on her own. Then the unicorns pulled the carriage towards the sky, gradually disappearing into the moonlit horizon.

Loranhil waved goodbye to her, standing for a moment as the night breeze brought a chill, before slowly returning to the warm cottage.

Placing the amber fruit lantern on the desk, the girl took out a slightly thick diary—something she had recently bought through the rabbits.

The white feather pen dipped in black ink, then began writing on the light yellow pages.

In the quiet room, only the occasional sound of pen scratching paper could be heard. The orange-yellow light illuminated the girl’s face, her pure blue transparent eyes reflecting the warm light, her soft eyebrows casting faint shadows in the lamplight.

The girl didn’t write in her diary every day, only when something happened or when she had some thoughts.

She always felt that writing was a joyful thing. When jumbled thoughts were transformed into actual handwriting, it would filter out the impulsive and superficial parts.

Writing was also a process of thinking and summarizing, allowing her to clearly see how she formed certain views or conclusions, thus avoiding some biases and overly subjective ideas.

Sometimes, when fleeting feelings passed through her heart, she would happily record them.

A quiet night, soft candlelight, slowly writing her favorite characters.

No matter how many times she did this, she never tired of it.