The Witch's Deadly Wish and Impossible Homework
Let's play a quick game of Go. Why is this game's title The Night the Witch Left? The reason lies entirely with this character: Eclair au Chocolat.
She's neither a major player nor a minor one, but the legacy she leaves behind influences the story from start to finish. She's better known by her nickname "the witch" than by her name—a girl rumored to have cursed the royal bloodline. Though "girl" doesn't quite fit. How could anyone call a centuries-old grandmother a girl?
Still, the witch moniker wasn't given lightly. In a world where magic doesn't exist, Eclair produced research results and artifacts that could only be explained as magic. The problem? This irresponsible witch starts things and then loses interest, abandoning them unguarded—until Moonlight got her hands on them. And after that... well, you can guess. If the black behind the scenes got dangerous power and didn't use it, the story wouldn't progress.
That's why she took a lot of flak as a character. My little sister liked her, though.
Anyway, the key point is that Eclair—this witch—is practically a cheat code. If I could just get on her good side, she'd be a huge help in all sorts of ways.
"Help?"
But if she were the type to lend a hand just because someone asked... I wouldn't be this tense.
"Me, help you?"
She has no reason or will to help me in the first place.
I don't know exactly when Eclair started staying at the Mirhane estate, but if it's been a while, she must have crossed paths with Bathory at least once. Given Bathory's personality, there's no way she wouldn't have picked a fight with someone who looked younger and like a mere library servant.
"Looks like you've polished up that foul mouth of yours in a hurry, but fixing it won't magically restore the ancient books she tore up."
And she even tore up books? What a piece of work.
"Even if that bitch changed her tune, it wouldn't be reason enough for me to help you."
Our affinity is zero at best—negative from the start. So what do I do now? How can I at least catch this witch's eye, even if I can't win her over?
"...What if I could grant your wish?"
"Hah."
All I can do is think. Pull together every scrap of original story knowledge I have, piece it together, and find an answer.
"Who'd grant whose wish?"
The witch, picking her ear at my nonsense, turns to leave again.
"Death."
"...!"
But I know her wish.
"Your wish is death, isn't it, Eclair?"
"..."
I don't know how or why she came to wish for that. My sister might, but I have no idea why Eclair craves death.
"You've been searching for a way to die for the past few decades."
All those witch's researches that fall into Moonlight's hands and cause problems throughout the story? Side products of her failed attempts to achieve the death she desires.
"I'll tell you. The method."
Of course, I don't actually know it. All I know is fragmentary info from my sister's one-sided spoilers and wiki dives, since I never properly read the story.
So whether her wish comes true in the ending, or she ends up living a fate worse than death... If there are multiple endings, which one, and how she dies—I have no clue.
"But on one condition."
Right now, I have to bluff like I do.
"Take me as your disciple."
Even if it makes her hate me more, at least she won't ignore me.
"...At first I thought you were just spouting rumors you'd overheard."
Her golden eyes gleam menacingly.
"But you know too much. Things I haven't even told my own disciple."
"...!"
Her gaze pierces like she's seeing right through me.
"Now I see it. Something strange has latched onto you. In the spot where the owner vanished, something odd has taken root."
"..What do you mean..."
"You're not Bathory Mirhane. Who are you?"
I realized it wasn't just a feeling.
"...I..."
Good.
"I'm an actress."
This works out better.
―― I explained everything to Eclair. That I know this story—The Night the Witch Left—and that I woke up in Bathory Mirhane's body by accident.
Of course, I hid how little I actually know. To cosplay as a prophet, I have to act like a perfect one—can't look like a fake snake-oil salesman or I'll lose all credibility.
"...You were originally a man?"
She reacted bigger to that than the important stuff, but whatever—we'll get to it.
"So in your world, the story that's about to unfold was sold like a book."
"Something like a book, yeah."
Eclair rested her chin on her hand, tilting her head as if chewing over whether my words could realistically be true.
"Hard to believe, but I can't outright dismiss it as impossible. I've seen similar oddities before."
To someone who's lived for ages, my story must sound like a genuine possibility, not the ravings of a lunatic.
"Fine. I'll help you."
After pondering for a long while, Eclair's gaze turned to me with a crisp reply.
"Really?"
"On one condition."
...Well, I wasn't expecting unconditional aid anyway.
"I'm planning to leave soon. Got to go to one of the new schools the kingdom's built—Grange-Colle or whatever."
I know Eclair leaves the Mirhane estate soon. In the main story, she first appears in the Ecole Berger library. So the Grange-Colle she's been invited to—the national school—is Ecole Berger.
"Not planning to teach or anything... but it's an expansion of the old royal library building, so there must be plenty of rare books."
"Thinking of leaving around late January, so about three months left."
Her eyes still dripped with boredom as she counted the time.
"I'll give you homework."
"Homework..?"
"Yeah, homework. Solve it, and I'll take you as my disciple. My current one's too lazy—her head won't hold anything more anyway."
Homework. My sister said to see the true ending, you have to become Eclair's disciple, and to do that, solve her homework. It's tough, so she failed three or four times before barely unlocking it.
"Just one assignment. Deadline's when I leave this ridiculously sunny mansion."
The situation's different, so the homework will be too. I don't even know what the original was, so silver lining, I guess.
"Simple. No nitpicky little conditions, and as long as you complete it somehow, I won't nitpick."
Since I promised to fulfill her wish, maybe she'll ask me to fetch poison that leads to death? Or use my attitude and the torn books as an excuse to make me find valuable tomes?
"The homework is to get friendly with my disciple."
"Got it—"
Either way, it'll be hard, but no choice. Words and actions always carry responsibility.
The book thing wasn't even me, so that's a bit unfair—
"—Huh? Wait, what did you just say?"
But Eclair's homework was neither.
"Need me to spell it out? My disciple that I'm teaching. You blab like you know everything, so you know who she is."
"No, it's not—"
I know who the disciple is. Eclair only teaches one at a time by principle, so no mix-ups. Why else would this witch hole up in the Mirhane library?
It's obvious who she's referring to.
"I know. I know, I know it, I know—"
"Yeah, you're not close. Not even a little."
The problem is my relationship with that disciple—with Bathory.
Worse than strangers.
Eclair—this ill-tempered witch—surely knows that. And she gave me this homework anyway...
"You knew that and..."
"What, you thought I'd give you something easy?"
"Hah..."
A hollow laugh escaped me unbidden, and at the same moment, the library lights went out.
"Looks like she's finally up, that lazy disciple of mine."
I didn't check the clock, but the sun was high in the sky earlier. Waking up in the library at this hour basically means she lives here.
And as I said before, the Mirhane library is basically someone's exclusive domain.
To that domain's owner, I'm an unwelcome intruder.
Swish, swish.
Something dragging sound grew closer. Cloth? Or human feet?
I couldn't be sure. Either was possible.
The sound stopped, and a shadow fell across from me.
"Awake now, Urtic?"
Eclair shone a lantern—fetched from who knows where—toward the shadow.
There stood a woman. In white pajamas, her unkempt pink hair tousled.
"..."
The second daughter of the Mirhane family. Eclair's disciple.
Urtic Mirhane was right there.
"...Her..?"
Urtic, her face still heavy with sleep, stared blankly at me and Eclair for a while before pointing at me and speaking.
"..What the hell...?"
Her voice dripped with displeasure, devoid of any sibling affection.