The Pudding-Craving Elf Lady
Right after the carriage carrying Esilly and Theorad departed, the Elf left alone in the front courtyard of the mansion gently bit her lower lip.
'Esilly Pelgaroin.'
The way she spat out the name and the aura she exuded made it clear she was no ordinary woman. Noble daughters were typically like flowers in a greenhouse—prone to crumbling into self-recrimination at the slightest injury—yet Esilly hadn't wilted. On the contrary, she'd sunk her teeth in even more viciously.
For a noble lady, she had real grit. But it had been an emotional misstep.
'Does she like Theorad?'
The conversation in the drawing room had reached a point where, if she didn't like Theorad or truly despised him, there'd have been no need to flare up like that. Still, there weren't enough clues to pin it down definitively. The atmosphere when Esilly had faced Theorad today had been markedly different. She'd screamed curses at the Elf, gotten slapped, and then dragged Theorad away, declaring she'd punish him. If that hadn't been an act but genuine, then Esilly's outburst during their talk—failing to suppress her emotions—might have stemmed not from love for Theorad but from rage at a slave's insolence.
'Should I follow them?'
To dispel the doubt, tailing them was the logical move. The problem was that even if she did, it likely wouldn't change much. If all of Esilly's actions were mere performance, she'd have countermeasures in place against being followed. Grabbing solid evidence would be impossible. Conversely, if it was sincere, there was no need to worry. The two would blunder their way to a breakup on their own.
'Hmm.'
Pondering this, the Elf absentmindedly looked up at the sky. A few fluffy clouds drifted lazily across the blue expanse. The serene, comforting sight left her staring blankly. Her eyes followed the slow-moving cumulus clouds pushed by the wind, and suddenly, she thought of pudding. It was an unconscious urge for something sweet to soothe her stress.
'Theorad won't be back for a while anyway.'
Instead of wasting time on pointless tailing, grabbing some pudding seemed like the better choice. Having made up her mind, the Elf checked that no one was around and snapped her fingers.
Crack!
The space right beside her shattered with a rift. A mystical darkness, like the cosmos itself, roiled within the distorted void. She stepped inside as if it were familiar territory, changed her clothes, and emerged. The rift vanished in an instant.
"Hm."
Emerging from the darkness, the Elf glanced over her outfit. An open robe reaching her calves, a short skirt, sleeveless top, and high-heeled shoes suited her well. The wide-brimmed pointed hat adorned with various accessories was much the same as before. It wasn't just the clothes. Her silvery hair, which had gleamed with radiant light, was now glossy black, and her blood-red eyes had turned pitch-black like graphite. Even her pointed ears had shortened to human length—no one would mistake her for an elf now.
'It's been ages since I took this form.'
A pang of nostalgia mixed with bitterness washed over her. The Elf summoned an antique broom into the air and lightly straddled it. Though it had been a while, the sensation returned instantly. With a short incantation, the broom whipped up a gust and shot into the sky.
"Ooooh..."
The cool breeze brushing her face felt wonderful. As she flew with eyes closed, a full-moon-shaped badge on her chest swayed gently.
Of course, it was an alias.
*
The Elf arrived at a pudding shop in Brenu Barony, in the western empire. It was a place she'd frequented back in her witch-disguise days.
But there were no customers. The display counter by one of the shop's windows was deserted, flies buzzing idly.
'What's this?'
Puzzled, the Elf landed and dismounted her broom. As she approached the counter, a beastman who had been dozing with narrowed eyes jolted awake.
"Rinea!?"
Furry all over, the raccoon-like beastman blinked and spoke again.
"Is it really you, Rinea? Or am I dreaming...?"
"It's me, raccoon."
"I'm not a raccoon, I'm a raccoon beastman...!"
"Same old you."
The Elf's curt reply made the beastman gasp.
"Guess it really is you, yup. It's been like twenty years... So what brings you here?"
"Why do you think? It's a pudding shop."
"Ah. But it's kinda inconvenient right now, yup. Can't make any pudding..."
"Why not?"
"You know I use minotaur milk for pudding, right? But the adventurer guild that supplied it went on strike recently, so the supply's cut off, yup."
No wonder the place felt so empty. The Elf emotionlessly scanned the shop's interior before speaking.
"So."
"Huh?"
"Other than milk?"
"Oh, just need milk, yup. Got plenty of other stock left."
"I'll get it. Tell me the location."
The beastman's eyes went wide. After cutting off all contact for twenty years, she shows up out of nowhere offering to fetch pudding ingredients? She'd always been unpredictable, but now even more so. Still, no way to turn down help for the business.
"Hang on, yup. There's a map inside marking where female minotaurs live."
The beastman rummaged through a cabinet and pulled out a parchment. Dusting it off, he confirmed it was the right one and handed it to the Elf.
"Here, yup. Minotaurs roam a wide area, so search carefully."
The Elf nodded after checking the contents, then straddled her broom as if done with business. But a sudden thought made her glance back at the beastman.
"By the way, can you make pudding with breast milk?"
"Huh? Probably? Never tried, but it should work, yup."
"Safe for regular humans to eat?"
"I think so...? Got someone in mind?"
The Elf shook her head after a moment's thought.
"Nah. Forget it."
Whoosh!
The broom stirred a gale and soared high. Watching it go, the beastman belatedly remembered something he forgot to mention.
'The Dark Moon Guild's looking for Rinea...'
One reason the Dark Moon Guild formed was to find the missing Black Flame Witch, Rinea. Twenty years after her disappearance, the fervor had faded, but guildmaster Dremes still searched relentlessly, convinced she was alive somewhere.
'Eh... she'll hear about it when she gets back, yup.'
Minotaurs were foes even advanced adventurers couldn't handle alone, but Rinea wouldn't lose to one. The title Black Flame Witch wasn't given lightly.
*
Apprentice witch Parus was in the greatest crisis of her life.
Grrrrrr!
Declaring she'd fetch a red-horned monster bird egg for her graduation project had seemed fine. An egg like that should get her a smooth pass and graduation.
But this was too much. She'd clearly cast a sleep spell—how did it wake up?
Gulp.
Parus slowly, very slowly, set down the egg in her hands.
"I-I wasn't gonna take it. Just checking if you were sleeping soundly. I'll leave now, so don't worry? Let's pretend nothing happened and part ways."
Creep, creep.
Backing away, Parus watched the monster bird's movements while forcing a smile. It was notoriously vicious—better not excite it. Whether a human smile meant anything to it was unknown, but still.
"Good bird, nice bird. I'm going now, okay? You stay put. Yeah? I won't come steal again..."
But the monster bird wasn't kind enough to let a human who invaded its nest go free.
Screeeeech!
Flapping its wings, it clacked its beak and charged. Panicking, Parus screamed and bolted.
"Sorry—! I said I'm sorryyy!"
She apologized repeatedly, but the bird wouldn't hear it. Desperately fleeing, the steep downhill wasn't kind to human joints.
"Eek!"
Thud! Her foot caught a rock, body launching into the air. Before she could brace, she tumbled down, kicking up dirt, until slamming into a tree trunk and stopping.
"Owwie..."
Rubbing her sore butt while sitting, Parus froze. A massive shadow engulfed her.
"Eek..."
The monster bird loomed, face twisted in rage.
'I'm done for.'
She was so close to becoming a full witch. One step nearer to owning a home. After scraping by with exorbitant tuition... All ruined by this damn bird. The thought of dying pointlessly ignited inexplicable rage from within.
"You fucking bird—"
Splat!
In an instant, the bird's head exploded, spraying blood everywhere. Decapitated, it staggered sideways and crashed down. Startled, Parus twitched as a mysterious witch in a fluttering black robe approached calmly.
"You."
Parus looked up in terror. Shadow veiled the witch's face, backlit by the sun. Without preamble, the witch thrust out a map.
"Know where any minotaurs are? Nearby."
"Huh? Minotaurs...?"
Still dazed, Parus's eyes caught the badge.
The full-moon badge reading Black Flame Witch, Rinea soured Parus's mood.
"Hold on! Thanks for saving me, I'll repay you, but impersonating is not cool!"
"Impersonating?"
"Why do this? Everyone knows the Black Flame Witch is a legend among us witches. She's a hero to me too. Impersonating her is morally wrong."
"Sorry, but I am the Black Flame Witch."
"Ha? Might as well say my house mutt is the Black Flame Witch. That'd be more believable."
Parus's sarcasm irked her. Talking it out would take too long—better demonstrate simply. The Elf pointed at the monster bird behind her.
"See it?"
Why the bird? Parus nodded curiously.
"Yeah?"
"What's the difference between that bird and you?"
"Huh? The bird's head is blown off, and I'm..."
Realization hit; cold sweat beaded as she looked up at the Elf. A delighted smile curved the Elf's lips.
"Got it?"
No room for refusal. Terror-stricken, Parus nodded vigorously.