Chapter 14: Awake

It had been quite a long time ever since I'd heard some news from the outside world. All this time, the gossiping guards had been my only source of information of what was transpiring within the kingdom. Events that I hoped I hadn't been part of or a reason of.

And when I thought that the worst had already passed. Another grim news came, deepening my already festering grief. This time it came from the rarely present wardens. I didn't mind if it was only me, but fate had another plan. One tragedy wasn't enough to calm the twisted fate of mine.

Edmund's father, the Count of Cloves, the most powerful man in the kingdom. The man known as the kingdom's shield, after hearing his only son's death, mourned until madness. He shook the kingdom, making it tremble as he killed his way into the royal castle.

A lot of civilian casualties arose as the whiff of rebellion spread throughout Carmandy. His soldiers and few citizens followed him to death. After all, the people of Cloves and even the citizens of Carmandy loved him and his son.

The count died inside the royal castle after getting besieged by the royal knights and court magus, but not before painting the glorious castle with crimson blood. The Count even massacred a lot of nobles and dignitaries in his bout of madness.

The citizens called the civil strife The Eight Day War - The War of Cloves. The capital, Ariowell, had turned into a bloody battlefield.

I expected the Count to know more about what happened than I did. But I never expected his reaction would be like this. What did father-in-law discover?

At the end of the strife, whitewashed stories flowed into the ears of the wardens from the outside. The crazy stories all pointed at me as the devil in the curtain.

They painted me as the ultimate villain. The evil hand behind everything.

Then, the mocking voices of the warden's turned for the worst.

The Witch of Carmady was the one who started it all. The devilish plotter behind the shadows. The Count's death and all the casualties were suddenly blamed on me. It was as if someone had planned these events for a long time. I ended up as the sacrificial lamb to calm the people. It was what I heard from the guards guarding me as they spit on me from time to time. And just as soon as I heard of the news, the wardens transferred me to this unknown jail.

But none of them bothered to hear my story. No one in this empty world could feel what I'm feeling right now. A tide of regret burst out, threatening to swallow me whole.

I wanted to end it all. Perhaps my death would set me free. Too tired of grief, I fell asleep.

The image of a snowy field dawned on me as I dreamed of Leonora's world. I watched Leonora, the toughest lady I knew, smiling as she gazed towards the soulful colors waltzing in the starry skies. Death loomed over her chapped, frozen lips. Her eyebrows fluttered tiredly and her breathing slowed down. She wore the same last smile Edmund had given me.

I was stunned. I gazed at her, my heart hammering from within. Her freezing hands slowly reached out towards the beams of light, veiling the dark star-studded skies. Opening just for her one last time.

Not again. No.

For the first in my life, my magic overflowed as I watch a great royal of Ertho smiling in peace. How will I fare if she was in my position? She will definitely not fall like me. My eyes lit up like dazzling galaxies, affirming the possibility.

If only...

In deep thought, I heard strange syllables, an unknown language rolling from my tongue. Innately, as if I knew it all along, an extended part of my body. Free-flowing sounds filled the air as the bright green, crimson, and blue waving lights intermixed above Leonora.

As she closed her eyes, I, Victoria, had cast unknown magic that wasn’t bound by my dreams. It was akin to a miracle.

I felt intimate with my innate magic, syllables flowing as I dreamt. Though late, I discovered the secrets of my magic. I, Victoria of Cloves, a magus of dreams and reality, was not a useless one.

A warm feeling flowed from within me. I felt happy despite the scythe of death slowly creeping into me. With a silly smile blooming, I decided. Though it's already too late for me.

"It's not yet too late for her.”

With a magical tug, I pulled her soul out into my dream. All to tell a story that she will soon forget. I would like to put my remaining hope on her.

Would she be willing to live my life? Maybe. Just maybe.

***

I met a lilac-haired lady in my dreams. She looked like a goddess, but wore a melancholic smile. She looked silly, but I could feel the weight of fate in her words. Her delicate shoulders seemed saddled with sadness and affliction. There was pain and bitterness, but also hope. She told me a story. No, a tragedy.

The lady wore a flowing white dress, and as she floated in a pure white room—she narrated what transpired in her life. How long it took, I didn't know, for the very essence of time seemed to not exist in this whitewashed plane. I listened and watched her sob, the depths of her hurt leaking from her shaky words.

At the end of her story, she gave me a pleading gaze.

"Hey, Leonora, you might not know me.” She said with a voice as beautiful as a heavenly harp. “But will you live my life for me?”

“I want to see myself enjoying the world. No more tragedy. Maybe, in the afterlife, I can also be happy as I watch you." Her gaze was as clear as her pure soul. Not a sense of jesting could be seen. The tiredness and anguish in her tune stung my heart.

Our eyes interlocked. I must give her an answer now. I couldn’t feel my lips moving, but I heard my voice echoing and trembling. “It shall be.”

Upon my answer, the lilac-haired goddess floated up in the skies of the bright white room, drifting into the void of light. I heard incomprehensible words flowing out of her thin lips.

She stared at me and smiled. I sensed a few of her burdens lifted as I uttered those words.

“Thank you. Though you do not know me, I know you. Thank you for accepting my selfishness.” Leaving a light worn-out grin, she uttered, “I'll watch over you.”

Soon, fragments of light burst out from the young girl's body. Drifting into the wind, never to return. Her body slowly cracked. I tried to run to her and save her, but I could not.

Yet, I somehow knew she was smiling, serene yet tinged with tragedy. Alas, her soft voice I heard.

She gracefully strode into the void of white light and turned to glance back one last time. "My magic will protect you until you regain your sight." The last expression she wore was content and relief as she left a few words of farewell. "I'm glad to have met you, Lady Leonora. Live well for me!" Then, like glass, she broke apart.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

***

“Huff! Huff! Huff! What was that? A dream?”

I frowned and lifted my trembling palms. I moved it to my brows, two hands sprawled over my face. It was incredibly surreal. I could still feel my heart racing, parcels of sweat dripping down my back.

The pain of loss striking my soul as warm tears continually streamed down my cheeks.

"Ah, damn it, what is this?" Tasting the salty, sweet, and bitter tears gushing continuously onto my cheek. I rubbed them away with my arm, but the tears still fell without stopping. My heart lurched like it had been torn into two. Not even the death of my parents had turned me into this much of a mess. "Damn! Stupid tragedy!"

I shook my head as my snot and tears met. "Victoria, Victoria! Hah! Guess what? The stupid flat-screened memo also called me Victoria too."

The earliest of my memories in this world flashed before my eyes.

"For the sin of stealing from the coffers of the kingdom."

"For causing the deaths of many innocent commoners."

"For patricide against the late king!"

"For conniving with your fiancé, Heir of the Count of Cloves, Edmund of Lavender in the assassination."

"For the attempted assassination of the crown princess and the queen!"

"For killing Prince Louis of Markandir."

"For inciting rebellion causing the War of Cloves."

"For massacring the nobles of the assembly of dignitaries."

"For creating chaos in the entire realm of Carmandy!"

"Victoria of Rothfield! You're fully stripped of your rights as a noble, as a royal, and as a commoner. Your deeds have angered the temple of the deities!"

"No more shall you be called princess. Forever, you will be called the Witch of Rothfield!"

So, it was her life. My gaze sharpened. "Live your life? Fine! I will make sure your dream comes true. Watch me! I'll make everyone tremble before you."

Yet, as soon as I said that, I felt something blocking my thoughts. I frowned. What I said sounded foreign. The once clear thoughts were blurring, one screen at a time. "What was that all about again?"

I held my head, trying to remember something. It was a dream. It was important. But I couldn't remember what it was. Only a few blurry thoughts remained, even though I knew I'd known it vividly before.

But for now, "Grr… I'm hungry." The linings of my stomach were rebelling, urging me to gobble anything I could see. Standing up, I turned left. Nothing but wood. Bobbing to the right, a candle I found. Yes, I am picky. So what?

My saliva dripped, free-falling, staining the soft… fluffy… bed? Wait. When did I ever have a bed in this freaking world? Let me calculate with my fingers. I slept on cold prison ground the moment I woke up. There's also the hay-filled cage before escaping the barbecue ending. Then…

I walked back to the bed, straightened my posture, crossing the fingers of my hands before putting them on my forehead. A trickle of icy sweat descended from my back. My hands shifted into a prayer position. My face turning black. "Was I caught?"

What's worse? A gorgeous aroma wafted, and it drew my nose, baiting me like a stupid fish. Again. "I will never fall for that." *Shrp* " Dang it saliva! Y-you traitor!"

Joking aside, it was time to risk it all. I'll die soon if I don't eat. I stood, feeling a bit wobbly. I supported myself by clamping onto the walls, striding with my toes, giving no chances for any sounds.

"Is this the witch hut?" If so, despite the trifling frame of this witch hut from the outside, it was surprisingly huge inside. My eyes went round. "Magic!" My inner instincts to explore awakened. Hold it! I am still in danger. Leonora, no, Victoria, control your urges! Ha! Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Perfect!

Wait. What's with this big door?

[Knock. knock, knock.]

I remembered my new skill.

"[Appraisal]."

Item: Big Door

Material: Dumblewood

Umu, I knew it. So it was ‘dumbwood’. Damn, of course, I know that. Can’t this skill offer something worthwhile? But why do I feel like a kid? Did my brain regress?

"Status."

Status Panel

Name: Victoria Rothfield Rosenberg

Level: 1

Job: Princess (Fallen), Spirit Magus (New!)

Title: Witch of Rothfield

General Skills:

[Etiquette Lvl. ↑6]

[Language of Another World]

Abilities:

[Spirit Eye Lvl. 2]

[Appraisal Lvl. 1]

[Scent Tracking Lvl. 1 (New!)]

Void Items:

[Victoria's Soul Fragments (Damaged)]

"..."

I tried touching the screen floating in front of me. My fingers passing through the display as if what I was seeing were mere illusions. I gazed at the name and felt curious. “Victoria.”

So that's what she meant with 'live my life' huh. The lines on my forehead scrunched, thinking of my current condition. Wait? Where did I hear or read that ‘live my life’ line? Was it from some movie or novel? Ah, I’m feeling a bit under the weather.

Sigh. My memories were still a bit jumbled. Anyway, as long as I'm not sick in the head, I'm good.

Creak.

I followed the sounds with caution. The large wooden door slowly opened, a shadow peeking through the gaps. He wore a weird hood over his head, looking as dumb as before.

I froze.

He froze.

"Princess?! You're finally awake!?"

Hell no! You're daydreaming and I'm sleepwalking. This dumbass of an Eyad! Oh, Eyad is alive? I'm not dreaming, right? Pinching my cheeks to do some pain and elasticity tests. "Affirmative. I'm not dreaming."

My gaze fell into a deep jungle of thoughts. I wished to ask about the current state of his nuts, but chose not to touch the delicate subject… for a moment.

Eyad threw a strange look at me. "A-are you truly alright, princess? You should stay in your bed and wait for me."

I gazed at him, nonchalant as I closed my eyes, diving into my thoughts. "I'm alright. And I'm not a princess anymore. Call me Victoria."

"No can do, princess." Shaking his head, Eyad sighed as if he's tired of everything. "Please enter and rest inside the room. I will call the archmagus soon."

"Archmagus?"

"Yes, the Archmagus Saria, princess." He held up a purse of coins, pointing at it.

I clawed my face once again. Guessing from the direction of our discussion, Saria might be the witch. Was she their client? I held onto the door, my legs buckling a little after realizing the stupid blunder I just made.

Perhaps, seeing my already blanching face, Eyad tried to assure me. "Don't worry, princess. The archmagus still favors you."

Don't worry? I could still remember how she punished your world with a simple rod. I almost thought you died on the spot after that. And you tell me to not worry? And what does she want from me?

My gaze accidentally slid again. A snappy glance fell below Eyad's belt. I choked but asked anyway, "Eyad?"

"Yes, princess?"

"Are you still a man?"

Ah, Eyad shuddered. He gulped and chortled lightly. " Of course, I-I am still a man. Y-you arrived in time, princess." He bowed his head. A bag of mixed feelings drowned him as his face went pale.

"I'm glad they're safe." I flashed a cutesy smile.

"Oh, Andre and Aron. Yes, they're also safe. Thanks to you, princess. We almost thought we're dead." Eyad tilted his head before bowing as if he had caught the drift of what I was really asking.

"No, not them."

Eyad: ?…?

"The jewels." I wished to speak of it with straightforwardness, but I feared it might trigger some of Eyad's hidden trauma.

"Jewels?" Eyad frowned, guessing about what I mean. "What jewels, princess? The archmagus, I believe, has a lot of precious stones."

The cultural difference between how my old world formed sentences through metaphors still exists despite my other world language skills.

I waved my hands, closing my eyes. "Don't worry about it, Eyad. Ignore me. I just still feel a bit sleepy. Anyway, how long did I fall asleep?"

"Nothing to worry, princess. You only slept for three days."

"..."

"Three days?" Ain't that a coma? Shouldn't I worry about that?

How come I slept for that long? Perhaps my face revealed a bit of what's inside my head. I don't know why, but the mercenary sensed a few of my thoughts.

"We don't know why, but during your sleep, you continuously drained your mana. It was all thanks to the archmagus who used a castle’s worth of potions to save you," Eyad tattled, adding some emphasis on the castle's worth part. I felt the envy dripping from him.

Now, that’s interesting. It's probably because of that blurry dream. Let's ignore the castle’s worth thingy. Bah, not a big deal at all!

"Grr..." I lowered my head, tapping the stupid traitor. I want food.

"Eyad? I'm hungry."

"Yes, princess."

This dumb magus was as slow as hell. Come on, get a hint. I lifted my royal chin and glared at him. I'm warning you! Don't make a hungry lady chew you out. "I'm hungry!"

He took a pause, frowning, not realizing how dumb he was. In my previous world, my assistants would scramble to scour every refrigerator and hurriedly offer the foodstuffs upon my words. I had to train this guy. He looked so dumb after all.

"Oh, yes, yes. I'll get your food. I'll also tell the archmagus about the good news. Please stay here for a moment and wait for us," Eyad stuttered, rushing towards the door, but not before giving me a stern look.

"Please wait for the archmagus. Please... I beg you. I want no more accidents."

“…”

He was looking at me like I am some unreliable lady.

“Fine,” I sneered.

After seeing my nod, Eyad strode out of the door, leaving me alone once again.

I frowned for a moment, caressing my chin as I fell in deep thought. I tried remembering everything that had happened to me in this world and whispered to myself. “Do I really look like some accident-prone child?”