Greetings of Witches

I.
Greetings of Witches

Laionne lives her life in a field of blue flowers. Whenever the wind blows, their petals dance around her tired face. That is how I first came to meet her—in the courtyard of Cerulea.

It must’ve been 10 years ago, back when she was a small child of 9, and myself a wandering witch of 12. She was standing among the blossoms and stared blankly ahead—this thin and fragile little creature that on first glance couldn’t blow away a butterfly—never quite focused on any single thing happening in the world around her. She was an unassuming, total weakling, and yet the first words she said made me freeze in my tracks.

“You mustn’t come closer. If you do, your tissue will moult and I’ll have to bury you under the flowerbeds.” In that moment, the breeze had picked up.

It seriously spooked me! First of all, I hadn’t even realized she’d noticed my presence; and second, what kind of vocabulary was that for a child?! Even other noble kids weren’t nearly as concise or verbose, so it genuinely came as a surprise. You might call me careless for not paying heed to the contents of her warning, but the truth is I already knew.

Quite frankly, my reasons for approaching Laionne were horribly selfish. I was a child at the time, but that still doesn’t excuse me. She existed all alone in a vast complex of walls and pillars of marble, and her only source of human contact had been in the form of terrified servants, who delivered her food and similar necessities every week. In simple terms; nobody wanted to have anything to do with her. Even her parents had fled to their grand summer estate in the outskirts of the capital, making it their base of operations far away from the monster they had birthed. But they were still her parents. Of course they didn’t want their daughter to suffer, it just so happened that nobody could provide her company without dying in a matter of days.

That is until I came along.

“Really?” I finally responded, inching closer to the girl with a suspicious(ly cute!) smirk. “Then what if I hug you so tight, you’ll have to bury the both of us together? You’ll never be lonely again, right?”

In hindsight, it was a terrible thing to say, and her reaction showed it. Her empty expression didn’t change at all, and she ignored me as if I hadn’t said anything. To me—who had always found enjoyment in annoying and flustering others—it was an evil rebuttal, but it didn’t discourage me.

Because to me she smelled like buckets full of gold, far more enchanting than the scent of the flowers. Being a friend to this girl was a job only I could do, and that meant I could charge whatever ridiculous rate I wanted. Since her parents did genuinely care, they agreed to pay it even if I’d been extortionate.

Musing under my breath, I scoffed and slowly raised my hand, bringing it level with the top of her head. I wanted to show her something no-one else had ever done, so I stroked her hair like I was petting a puppy, doing so calmly and casually. I wanted to be the first person to ever shower her with affection, so she would imprint on me like a new-born chick and never leave my side. Remembering it makes me cringe uncontrollably.

Much to my satisfaction at the time, my violation of personal boundaries did spark the fires of visible discomfort. Laionne at first tried to slip away, but when my hand followed her she could only peer at me searchingly, bewildered. She was expecting me to yelp out in pain, to wince, grimace or show any signs of suffering after coming into contact, but I continued petting her with the same, lazy gusto. It occurred to me that after the initial burst of resistance, she didn’t attempt to escape anymore. She simply stayed still, looking guiltily to the side, and accepted my treatment of her. I could even swear I felt her nudging her head into a more comfortable position. If she understood the purpose of crying back then, she probably would’ve done it. Unexpectedly, she had turned the situation against me.

“H-Hey. There, there,” I muttered awkwardly, retracting my arm. “I’m Niccolina of house Artelli, and I’m a witch just like you. I’m gonna teach you how to control your witchcraft, okay? As you can see, your power doesn’t hurt me, so I’ll be staying here with you! It’s my double whammy all for your sake!”

“Double… hm?” She tilted her head, scrutinizing me with that face devoid of warmth. It took her a long time, but she must’ve found something satisfying, because she budged after her first consideration. “I see. I am called Laionne of Cerulea. You can stay… for a bit, I suppose.”

That’s how our relationship began.