Epilogue: A Witch's Afterstory
"Why did you spare the witch, Your Grace? I never imagined you'd show mercy to that harbinger of doom."
"I didn't spare her. If anything, I tested her right up to the end, trying to kill her."
When the hero of justice and the seasons stormed in to slay the witch.
If she hadn't tried to protect her mother.
If she hadn't forsaken her witch's power.
If she'd clung to life and dodged the hero's strikes.
Priscilla would have died.
The claim that I showed mercy and saved Priscilla might hold some truth, given how I deceived the hero with my illusions—but it wouldn't be precise.
"Priscilla saved herself."
In the end, a witch's tale only concludes when she renounces immortality.
No one else could do that for her.
And Priscilla brilliantly proved her own transformation.
That was all there was to it.
Killing everyone off would just make my bed restless anyway.
"Then the witch's story ends here."
"Not for the witch."
She's no longer a witch.
A witch's ending is tragedy alone.
Only a gruesome death awaits.
No "and they lived happily ever after" for her.
But since she renounced her power of her own will,
now she can decide her own fate.
It could be tragedy—or a happy ending.
"...Hoo. Using my abilities for days has really worn me out. I need some sleep."
"Shall I read you a fairy tale?"
"Not a bad idea. Something with a witch, if possible."
"A witch...? It won't be a pleasant story."
"That's why I want to drift off to a tale of an evil witch meeting a gruesome end."
"You have a wicked personality."
I collapsed onto the bed like a sack of potatoes.
Canaria perched on the edge and began reading a fairy tale.
It was about a witch who lured abandoned children to her gingerbread house and devoured them.
In the end, she got baked in her own oven.
"Don't project the fairy tale scenes with telepathy. It's making me nauseous."
"It's fun."
I tweaked the illusion, and suddenly the oven door where the witch was roasting flew open, with something stirring inside.
The siblings who'd baked the witch stared in fear.
In the freezing tension, what crawled out on its own was—
"You Fucking Idiot. Can't even tell humans from dough?"
"Why is Gigachad coming out of the oven?!"
"Bake the dough, get cookies. Same principle."
Sure enough, it was Gigachad.
"This Gigachad will teach you the proper use of an oven."
Gigachad, donned in an apron, baked cookies using the witch's various doughs.
The plain flour dough transformed into vibrant, colorful cookies.
The siblings tasted them and marveled.
And so, Gigachad and the abandoned siblings lived happily ever after.
A few minutes after Priscilla awoke.
Her fainted mother stirred from sleep.
The mother gasped at the crumbled wall, then tilted her head at Priscilla.
"Huh? Why's the wall collapsed...? And who are you?"
"......"
A witch's spell that severs deep grudges and tenacious love—erasing her from a loved one's memory.
Her mother remembered nothing of Priscilla.
A wall suddenly crumbling, a strange girl in the house—it must be bewildering.
After a silence, Priscilla cautiously introduced herself.
"Hello. I'm Priscilla. I'm blind, so... I must have groped my way in by mistake. I'm sorry."
"Priscilla? That name... it feels familiar somehow."
The mother stared blankly, then nodded.
Was it a reasonable explanation? Or perhaps the spell's aftereffects left her mind hazy.
"I'll leave right away. Sorry again."
Confirming the spell worked, Priscilla stood.
She'd harbored a faint hope it might fail—a 'miracle.'
But miracles weren't so convenient.
She was no longer her mother's daughter.
No reason to stay.
Priscilla passed through the broken wall and headed outside.
And after a few minutes of walking—
"Hey, girl!"
Her mother's urgent voice halted Priscilla's steps.
Priscilla turned.
Blind now, she couldn't see her mother, but she sensed her 'mother' with crystal clarity.
"Take this."
"...Pardon?"
"It's a walking staff. You'll need it to find your way."
A black ebony staff, sturdy and long—perfect for a blind person.
Likely a gift prepared for her daughter before losing her memories.
"Can't see where you're going—must be dangerous."
"......Thank you."
"And... this might sound odd, but if you have nowhere to stay, you're welcome for a few days. My bedroom wall collapsed, but there are plenty of rooms."
For a moment, Priscilla nearly nodded.
She yearned to bask in her mother's warmth just one more day.
But.
That was the path she'd forsaken.
"...Thank you. But I have someone I need to find."
"I see... Sorry for the strange offer."
In truth, Priscilla could have stayed.
Build new memories, rekindle affection, live together a month and beg to be family again.
It would surely be happy.
Perhaps the perfect new life for a 'non-witch' Priscilla.
But.
She didn't.
"...Instead, I'll definitely return someday—with a thank-you gift for the staff."
She had to move forward.
She'd already deceived her once; couldn't play the 'innocent clueless daughter' again.
No repeating the same mistake twice.
No more acting spoiled.
She'd promised Gigachad to walk on her own.
"Come anytime. No need for a gift."
"Yes......"
She left the village, tapping the ground with her staff toward the forest.
Soon, a swarm of insects greeted her.
"Oh, you're still here."
Familiars she'd created.
Now powerless, no contracts remained.
They buzzed around her ears.
"Our contract ended. Live free. I have no mana left to feast you again. I burned all the cauldrons for contracts."
But the familiars didn't leave.
Instead, they rustled as if offering to guide, clearing a path.
Perhaps they saw their creator as a sort of 'mother.'
"...Thank you."
Escorted by familiars, Priscilla headed into the forest.
First, the cave where bandits hid—tools and supplies there.
"Miraculous morning, Prissy."
"Gigachad?!"
The next day, Priscilla awoke to a familiar voice in her dream.
She frantically scanned for Gigachad, but saw nothing.
"Ah, just a dream......"
Suddenly, the cave felt bitterly cold.
Hugging her knees, Priscilla bowed her head and sobbed.
She was lonely.
The world was pitch black.
The only light, Gigachad, was gone.
Gigachad... You said you'd always be closer than my heart, waiting... I can't feel you...
"Liar......"
Gigachad, I still need you. I'm a coward. Still scared of getting hurt, so I hole up. If you're gonna vanish like this... you shouldn't have saved me. Shouldn't have pushed my back. Shouldn't have changed me.
"Prissy. I didn't change you. Only you can change yourself."
"I know. That's what you'd say."
"You look deep in thought. Wanna take a walk?"
"......"
His voice echoed so vividly.
If it was just illusion, it was no different from talking to herself.
Yet recalling Gigachad brought no sensation.
A hole in her heart.
Lungs failing, hard to breathe.
"Ugh...... Gi, Gigachad......"
And after hours weeping in the cave—
A voice from the entrance.
"Oh. Lucky. No beasts, looks lived-in. Rest here... Hm?"
"......"
Familiar scent of sunflowers.
The hero.
"Someone's already here."
"......"
"Hello? Oh, asleep?"
Priscilla didn't reply.
No energy left.
Today, she wanted nothing.
Gigachad would've yelled, "Get that heavy ass up now!"
But he was gone.
She wanted to waste one day like this.
"Hmm... Not asleep... Haha... No need to be so wary. I'm a hero chosen by the God of Scales and Contracts. I swear on the scales I won't harm you."
"......"
"Truth is, I came to this forest on a divine message. The shrine maiden tasked me to fetch 'hero material' from here. But..."
"......"
The hero awkwardly glanced around, then beamed at Priscilla.
"Maybe you're the one."
"......Bullshit."
"Haha. Not mute after all?"
"What hero could a blind girl be...?"
"Oh yeah, the one who gave the oracle said to pass this on."
"......"
"You can be anything. Aim high. Kinda cliché, but heroes include one-armed guys and blind folks, so don't worry... Huh? Girl? Crying? Wait, I didn't make you cry, right? Ow! What bit me— Kyaa?! What are these bugs?!"