Chapter 116
Chapter 116
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 116
Chapter Title: Peaceful Daily Life
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1.
A week had passed.
Amelia and little Siwoo's daily life was peaceful.
Amelia took care of him, administering five drops a day of the potion Duke Keter had provided.
Just like her master had done for her.
It wasn't that she was doing this in hopes of forgiveness when he regained his memories.
It stemmed from Amelia's tender feelings for Siwoo, and her desire to pass on to someone the love she had received in the past.
She could hardly bear how joyful it made her to be able to do something for him—to know that Siwoo trusted and relied on her.
Thanks to Amelia's devoted care,
Siwoo—who had initially been frightened at the mere sight of her—began slowly warming up to her.
"Amelia."
"Siwoo, have your cake first."
Siwoo, who had been diligently scribbling away at the desk in his room, spotted Amelia and hopped down from his chair to greet her.
His body was growing at an astonishing rate, day by day.
Children grow quickly by nature, but Siwoo's progress felt downright abnormal.
He seemed to shoot up at least a centimeter taller each day, and his memories were returning just as rapidly.
His recollections of magic, in particular, were recovering at an exceptional pace.
"Thank you."
"If it's not enough, just say so. I'll bring more."
"No, this should be plenty. Would you like some too, Amelia?"
"Shall I?"
Amelia set the cake down on Siwoo's desk and glanced at the paper he had been so intently working on.
It was filled with his own organized notes on basic magical theory.
"How's the studying going?"
"It's so strange. It's like these really old memories are resurfacing, and the magic just comes to me."
"...That's probably because your memories are gradually returning."
"Amelia, I have a question. Why does this formula work out this way? I tried proving it myself, but something's not clicking."
"Let me see."
Amelia picked up the paper, which was crammed full of Siwoo's calculations from margin to margin.
The level was advanced.
The formula he was deriving was the "Yesod Reverse Field 1st Law," devised by Viscount Yesod—a principle hailed as the essence of reverse field dynamics.
Memories seemed to return at varying speeds and depths depending on the type, but even accounting for that, this was a formula so complex and rigorously proven that young Amelia back then wouldn't have even touched it.
"........."
Until now, Amelia had always given perfectly tailored responses to Siwoo's questions.
Not spoon-feeding full answers, but gauging how far he had reasoned on his own and offering just the right hints to spark his own realizations.
But this time, even Amelia was at a loss for words.
She could follow the early stages of the proof—laid out with commonplace standard magical formulas.
But from the midpoint onward, it veered into entirely unfamiliar interpretations and approaches.
It felt eerily familiar.
This was the same sensation she'd had when glimpsing the draft of a magic circle Siwoo had once created.
An approach and interpretation unique to him alone, leaving a third party like Amelia able only to sketch its outline.
It wasn't quite as strikingly original as that time, but she could clearly see elements of his personal formula woven in.
"Amelia?"
Siwoo's innocent eyes peered up at her curiously.
Amelia met his gaze with a faintly bewildered look.
"Why did you write it like this?"
"I just wrote it down as it came to me, like always. Actually, I was staring at that tree when this approach suddenly flashed in my mind."
Siwoo pointed with his pen to the fractal tree—a pattern he'd etched into the wall like a mural when he'd transcended human limits.
It was also the grotesquely deviant magic circle that Amelia could scarcely comprehend at all.
The implication was clear.
Siwoo's memories were steadily returning.
"Is it really that messed up?"
"Siwoo, how about taking a little break?"
"Huh? Why? I was just getting to the fun part where I hit something I didn't know..."
Amelia gently soothed Siwoo, who looked genuinely disappointed.
"Focusing too hard on one thing can actually make you less efficient."
"Yes, Amelia."
"I'll set up a mat in the garden. Let's have some tea together. Bring the cake too."
"Okay."
Amelia slipped out of the room first, steadying her turbulent emotions.
She needed to prepare the mat, and the black tea to go with Siwoo's cake...
As she rummaged through the cupboard for teacups, Amelia let out a deep sigh.
"Hoo..."
It felt like waking from a sweet dream.
Reality—the one she'd momentarily forgotten—pressed down on her chest once more.
These past few days,
if asked for the happiest moments lately, Amelia would unhesitatingly choose this week.
Watching Siwoo grow by leaps and bounds while learning magic, seeing his height increase daily, feeling their bond draw closer each day—it helped her overcome the loneliness and solitude of years past, if only a little.
Strolling the garden together at dawn, chatting idly over meals, savoring slices of her favorite chiffon cake, drifting off to sleep side by side—every such moment was a small, precious happiness for Amelia.
Siwoo, who trusted and followed Amelia.
Siwoo, who smiled at the sight of Amelia.
Siwoo, who clung tightly to Amelia in sleep.
And
Siwoo, who did not hate Amelia.
She knew it was all a fleeting miracle conjured by magic.
Yet the past remained unsettled, and the reality Amelia feared still lurked, biding its time.
The undeniable truth she'd forcibly set aside amid these blissfully warm days resurfaced the moment she saw Siwoo's proof.
Five years.
Siwoo's resentment ran long and deep.
Amelia's own karma was no different.
She harbored no naive delusion that a few days of cozy living could overturn it all.
She simply wanted to savor it a while longer.
The family warmth she felt for the first time since her master's passing, the cozy comfort of tranquil days, the joy of shared moments.
She had been clinging to that foolish lingering attachment.
But even that was nearing its end.
Amelia reached into her bosom and pulled out the potion bottle Keter had left behind.
Nearly a fifth of it was already gone.
This was the fuse burning down to the end of her illusory bliss.
And Amelia could still cut that fuse—or stop it entirely—even now.
What if she simply stopped giving him the potion?
Would his memories never return?
Even if not, wouldn't their happy moments together last just a bit longer?
It was escapism, avoidance, nothing but endlessly postponing the root issue—
A thoroughly selfish,卑鄙, repulsive fantasy.
Like the sweet temptation of a serpent, the impulse of that wrongful desire filled her heart.
"Amelia!"
Siwoo's bright, friendly voice called from the garden—he must have come looking for her.
She'd dawdled too long, it seemed.
That cheerful tone briefly swept away the dark clouds of her brooding thoughts.
Amelia stared at the potion vial a moment longer before tucking it back away.
It was the wrong thing to do.
Amelia had always run away.
She realized this hesitation stemmed from the same impulse to flee.
Repeating past mistakes would be the act of a fool.
Amelia had learned from Siwoo that she could not keep running forever.
"Coming right away!"
2.
The day drew to a close.
Gazing at a star perched on the horizon's edge, Amelia retrieved her long-forgotten violin from a corner of her room.
It had been lovingly preserved in a case enchanted with preservation magic.
Magic is a fusion discipline in every sense of the word.
Given the witches' inherent demand for artistic cultivation and training, Amelia had once diligently practiced the violin.
Her master played piano, Amelia violin.
Mozart, Saint-Saëns, Bach, Chausson, Kreisler.
Whatever scores her master procured, composer mattered not—they played every concerto there was.
For the young Amelia, who despised magic, those were her happiest times.
"........."
She rested her chin on the chinrest and gripped the neck.
It felt unfamiliar after so long.
Thanks to the preservation magic, it hadn't rotted away, but it was badly out of tune.
Amelia adjusted the bridge, tightened or loosened the strings, tuning it meticulously.
-Keeeen
The violin, untouched since she became a witch, whined shrilly as if resenting its long-absent owner.
Her fingers, once nimble, had stiffened, and even her bow hold felt awkward.
But after a few strokes across the strings, her body recalled the old muscle memory, and the forgotten performance began to flow.
The tremor at her fingertips transmitted through the strings.
The beautiful melody swirling around her ears.
Long-forgotten sensations revived.
She didn't know why the courage to play this violin had suddenly welled up now, or what whim had seized her.
Amelia closed her eyes, surrendering to memory, and played on for a good while.
"Wow..."
Startled by the sudden noise, she opened her eyes to find Siwoo peeking around the door.
Her playing interrupted, Siwoo apologized with a crestfallen expression.
"Ah, Amelia... Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."
"No, no—the tone's not what it used to be. I was just about to stop anyway."
Siwoo entered Amelia's room with far less formality than before.
He didn't even politely ask if he could come in.
Amelia felt a quiet pride in how close they'd become—tinged with a touch of melancholy.
"Tired?"
"Yeah, I guess I overdid the magic research today."
It was getting late.
Siwoo's half-lidded eyes from drowsiness and his pajamas made it clear midnight was near.
"I'll put it away. Wait for me in bed?"
Siwoo now went to bed with Amelia as if it were the most natural thing.
And Amelia, who rarely slept well otherwise, joined him just as naturally.
"Before that..."
Siwoo hesitated a moment before sitting on the sofa in front of Amelia.
"I'd like to hear more of your playing, Amelia. It sounded so good."
"Really?"
Such simple exchanges had become unfamiliar to Amelia—yet deeply missed.
They filled the gaps in her fragmented heart to some degree.
Amelia approached Siwoo, stroking his hair as she asked,
"Any piece you'd like to hear?"
"Anything would be great. I don't really know any."
Watching Siwoo sit up straight, ready to listen intently, Amelia once more drew the bow gently across the strings.
Throughout the performance, the melody never truly reached her ears.
If only this moment could last just a little longer...
That faint wish, murmured like a lament.
She could only repeat it to herself, again and again.