Chapter 544

To be honest, she didn't know how long it would take for the tree to grow properly.

She kept a diary specifically to record the growth of the sapling and the flowers she cultivated. Occasionally, she would also record some memorable moments from her interactions with the Witch, as well as some of her own interesting daily routines.

Let's think back a little. What did she write down a long time ago?

It was probably the first time in the past that she discovered that even Witch could feel sadness.

It seems to be because of "sound".

Because, although Witch seem to be favored by nature, they also hear more sounds than mortals, not just songs and poems, but also the cries and last words of distant souls.

Those sounds were sometimes heartbreaking, and the girl seemed to hear them occasionally as well.

But Witch never cover their ears.

It seems to suggest that she would listen attentively to those stories of death, sorrow, and misfortune.

Just as the world will listen attentively to her voice.

"Miss Witch."

"Um?"

What is death like?

The Witch thought for a moment:

"Cold and dark, loneliness and oblivion."

"Like winter?"

"Like winter."

The girl wondered what death, which was not far off, would look like, and the Witch gave her a terrifying answer.

Cold, loneliness, darkness—these are all things that young girls hate.

"So, when death comes, I'll be shivering with cold?"

She propped her face up with one hand.

"I don't know, I haven't died, darling."

The Witch showed little interest in answering the question; her disinterest in things was always obvious.

"Would you be sad if I died?"

Although they weren't very familiar with each other.

Even now, the Witch remains calm and composed, as if conjuring up that image doesn't affect her at all; she's long been used to it.

People all die, and eventually they will all leave me, including you.

"That's true."

The girl sat on the flower-garland swing and finally admitted it.

Although the Witch did not actually answer the question.

This topic should have ended there. The girl neither cared about nor was interested in the topic of death, or rather, caring about it wouldn't have made a difference. In the limited time she had, she might as well think about something else.

Although I don't actually want to leave you.

Finally, the girl spoke in very simple words.

She didn't know why she thought that way, nor did she intend to find out. She just thought it and said it. She even hoped that the Witch would laugh after hearing it.

This topic has nothing to do with death; even if I were to die tomorrow, the meaning of this statement would not change.

The Witch's reaction was lukewarm; perhaps she didn't hear it, or perhaps she didn't know how to respond.

Then, winter came.

The Witch's house has four seasons, unlike any Royal Capital's. And every winter, the Witch, whom she always thought was all-powerful, sometimes shivers from the cold.

This made her find it somewhat amusing.

The Witch always had to rely on wearing thick clothes and sitting by the fire, just like a mortal, to keep warm.

He would also go and build a Snowman by himself, and then his hands would turn bright red from the cold.

Sometimes, the Witch would stare blankly at the Snowman with a silent gaze, as if reminiscing about the past or something else, even though it was a brand new Snowman and not exactly beautifully made.

"Miss Witch, what are you thinking about?"

"You mean?"

What comes to mind when Snowman?

The Witch pondered for a moment and gave a puzzling answer:

I feel cold.

Sometimes, the Witch's words are hard to understand, not just for young girls, but also for people who have known Witch for a long time. Sometimes, they find it difficult to understand the Witch's words, which are spoken according to her own feelings and moods.

"That means you're going to die?"

"It's still far away."

That's really unlikely.

The girl was always curious about what the Witch was thinking, but the Witch's expression was hard to decipher, and she rarely spoke frankly about her thoughts. It seemed that the Witch did it on purpose, wanting others to guess what she was thinking.

But what does being cold mean? On a winter night, the girl did feel very, very cold. She looked at the Witch who was building Snowman alone not far away, her beautiful yet lonely appearance sparking an idea in her mind.

Her thin, frail figure soon crouched down beside the Witch, gently pressing against Witch, conveying her presence and warmth. She seemed like a child asking her older sister innocent questions.

"That must mean you felt sad, lonely, or even wanted to cry?"

The girl's voice was soft and calm, seemingly shining brightly in the cold, snowy night.

The snow fell in the night, burying the flowers and fields, and even the swing was covered in snow. Apart from her pale skin being slightly red from the cold, the Witch looked no different from usual.

Nevertheless, the Witch paused for a moment, then looked up in confusion.

"How do I look like I'm sad or lonely? I have so many friends, and I even have a fiancée."

"Oh, it's because I feel sad and lonely, so I hope you feel the same way I do."

"..."

So what's the answer?

"I don't know."

"Want a hug? Even though I'd like you to hug me."

The slender girl beside her, her beautiful black hair covered in snow, breathed out warm air, and looked at the Witch, who occasionally acted like a child, with her fair and rosy face, smiling and acting coquettishly at her.

The Witch looked at the girl with her deep purple eyes, and they met each other's gaze. In the desolate night, there were only the two of them.

"Yes, of course."

Finally, she reached out her arm and gently took the girl's hand, but instead of embracing her, she leaned her head against the girl as if she were being affectionate. In the end, the two held hands, leaning on each other, and looked together at the silly Snowman that the Witch had built.

The girl had once seen a pure white bird flying across the clear sky. Its free and carefree posture was so beautiful and dazzling, like a warm light that made her yearn for it.

She thought birds were very beautiful, and sometimes she would think that she could become a bird and fly so beautifully.

She wanted to become a bird.

However, the sky seemed very far away; unlike the Witch, she didn't have wings and couldn't fly that high.

At times like these, she would ask the Witch some pointless questions.

"Witch, are you a bird?"

"Um?"

Sometimes, if it's a topic that interests her, Witch will think and respond seriously and patiently, but this time she was clearly just giving a lazy, perfunctory reply.

"Oh right, I'm a bird, maybe an owl or something?"

What's on the moon? Fairies or palaces?

"It's all grayish-white desert, full of potholes, completely barren, nothing much to see, but if you'd like, I can take you there sometime."

"And what about further away? Aren't there any birds flying there?"

"No, nothing at all, darling, you'll see when you see it."

The Witch was flipping through a fairy tale book. This woman occasionally enjoyed reading all sorts of fairy tales, but what she said was completely different from those stories. Despite being a Witch who had lived for a very long time, it seemed that Witch's own life had been smooth sailing and without any major ups and downs.

Unfortunately, the girl could not become a bird.

She has no Feather Wing, so let alone flying, it's difficult for her to even go to more distant places.

I really want to be a bird.

"I want more, just like the stories you told, Witch."

"Ah, I also want to..."

The girl had a pure and radiant smile on her face, but as she finished speaking, her voice quickly trailed off, and she blinked in confusion.

There are many things I want.

However, those were all very vague and indistinct dreams, and like rain, they would eventually stop.

But the Witch found it strange:

"Take your time, we can take it one step at a time, let's continue, it doesn't sound like it's anything difficult."

The Witch was puzzled by the girl's seemingly troubled expression.

After all, turning this little girl into a bird isn't that difficult.

"..."

This is indeed not a very heavy story.

Although the girl's time was limited, it wasn't too strenuous. By the Witch's side, she could go to many places that were otherwise unreachable, do many things she wanted to do, witness one miracle after another that the Witch wove for her, and listen to the Witch tell her stories of a thousand and one nights.

Although she preferred staying in the garden and house that belonged to the two of them rather than going out, spending time with the Witch and passing the time that didn't seem so long.

What may seem like a short time to many people is a remarkable experience for her, as she seems to have lived a very colorful life and done many interesting things.

Before she knew it, time had slipped away, and the girl, like the maple tree in the backyard, had grown up, shed her childishness, and blossomed into a captivating beauty.

At the same time, in the prime of her life, her remaining time was becoming increasingly limited.

"Miss Witch, how much longer?"

"One year, two years?"

"That's so little."

Why do you say that?

I wonder if I'll ever see the day my little tree bears beautiful fruit.

The girl looked slightly melancholy and sighing.

Although Magic can make trees and flowers grow quickly, Witch always prefer to carefully nurture them little by little, allowing them to grow naturally. Therefore, even after so many years, the maple tree has not yet grown to the point where it can flower and bear fruit.

Maybe next year, or maybe even further away.

However, the girl's time was running out.

"But, let it be, it's not so bad."

The girl always had a good attitude and quickly returned to normal.

In reality, given the gray-haired Witch's power and status, it wouldn't be difficult for her to defy the Kingdom's rules, cure the terminal illness, and prolong the girl's life.

But the girl didn't think it had to be that way.

It is said that Witch can even resurrect the dead if they wish, but no Witch of that status has ever done so.

That would be too unfair to other ordinary people.

Then I'll stop thinking about it.

Neither the girl nor the Witch felt that their fate was too bad.