Chapter 55
Chapter 55
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 55
Chapter Title: My Hero (5)
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"If you're a witch, you should dress like one. Why are you wandering around in such a shabby merchant's getup?"
"B-because I can't let anyone find out I'm a w-witch..."
"No helping it, then. I'll personally gift you some witchy clothes from Mimir. Until then, stay here in this cabin!"
"Th-that's why I can't let people know I'm a w-witch..."
"Let's go!"
"Eek..."
Anne declared something along the lines of, "A witch must carry herself with pride!" There was no way to resist her bullheaded determination as she dragged Mimir along.
Mimir was bewildered.
This was the first person who had figured out she was a witch and hadn't run away screaming.
Was she unafraid of someone who could spew fire from her hands? Or could Anne be some kind of inquisitor in disguise?
One thing was clear: there was no malice in Anne's actions. Her attitude was like that of a close friend, sparking curiosity in Mimir.
Maybe Anne could become her friend. Mimir had traveled alone for so long that loneliness gnawed at her.
Perhaps Anne could ease that loneliness, even if just a little.
Even if the friendship was fleeting, like a brief rain in a drought, it would quench her thirst.
It had been ages since she'd had such a long conversation with another person. So Mimir didn't resist.
Though their first meeting was mere chance, the two ended up living together for about five years.
It was a long time for Anne, who was only twenty, but a mere blip for Mimir, who had lived centuries.
Still, those days together were undoubtedly precious, irreplaceable moments in both their lives.
"From today, I'll teach you your duties as a guest in this cabin! First, we need to chop that wood... Whoa! Warn me if you're using magic to cut it! I almost got swept up!"
"S-sorry..."
"N-next, fish... Wait, no lightning! G-g-gah..."
"A-Anne! Are you okay!?"
"N-next, the kitchen fire!!! You're doing this on purpose!!!"
"Wh-when I'm nervous, my magic goes haywire..."
Anne's cabin was deep in the forest, far from the village where humans gathered.
So the two of them had to handle most things themselves. Mimir thought her magic would be plenty helpful, but it only caused more accidents.
Each time, she'd shrink in shame, head hanging low, but Anne would stroke her snow-white hair.
"It's okay. It's okay. Everyone makes mistakes. So don't feel too bad."
"Th-then, one more try with the hearth fire..."
"Stop."
Honestly, even Mimir knew she was more trouble than help.
Food and resources must have been precious to Anne, living alone in the woods, yet she shared them freely with Mimir.
One day, Mimir had asked about it.
"H-honestly, I'm not much help... Why do you keep me around, Anne?"
"Huh?"
"If you like talking to people, you could just go to the village... No matter how I think about it, there's no benefit..."
A gloomy, timid witch like her—wouldn't the villagers be better company?
Objectively, Mimir felt she was a needless burden to Anne.
Deep down, though, she hoped there was at least one reason Anne needed her.
"You're right. Maybe I should give you the cabin and head to the village."
"Eek..."
"I'm kidding! Kidding! Don't cry!?"
As tears welled up, Anne soothed her and spoke.
"Well, the villagers call me a witch too."
"U-um... Are you a witch too, Anne?"
Anne had never used magic during their time together.
What was this, some out-of-the-blue nonsense? Just as Mimir pondered diving into a deep magical debate...
Anne tapped her own face with her fingers.
"Not the spell-casting kind like you, but they point fingers because of how I look."
Mimir tilted her head.
"I think you're pretty..."
It was the face of an ordinary girl.
At least, that's how Mimir saw it.
"Everyone in the nearby villages has brown or yellow hair. But mine's black, and my skin's quite different too..."
Anne was East Asian, from the eastern reaches of the continent's yellow-skinned peoples.
Of course, when they met, Mimir's worldly knowledge was limited; she didn't know much about Anne's race.
She'd only glimpsed merchants claiming Eastern origins, hawking gold and silk.
"So I'm an outsider like you, Mimir. Like that sickly apple tree alone by the cabin..."
Beyond the cabin window stood a tree with dark, withered leaves, unlike the healthy ones around it.
No fruit, so she hadn't realized it was an apple tree.
Mimir blinked up at Anne.
Her face looked utterly forlorn.
"That's why I needed someone to talk to. I've been alone since Grandma passed. I used the clothes as an excuse to keep you here because I was lonely..."
Anne shared this story a year later.
The black robe was already complete. All that remained was the witch's iconic pointed hat.
"You're a traveling witch, Mimir. I can't keep you forever... Yeah. About a fortnight for the hat."
Anne smiled, but her voice was heavy with sorrow.
Only then did Mimir realize Anne's feelings.
She'd cherished their life together just as much. It wasn't one-sided—Mimir felt relieved.
And overjoyed. She'd finally made a true friend, the kind she'd longed for.
A mutual need fulfilled at last...
At some point, the cabin had started feeling like home to Mimir.
She didn't want to leave either.
'People need a justification for their actions.'
She recalled a philosopher's words from a book.
Her reason to stay was about to vanish.
So...
Mimir instinctively pointed at the sickly tree.
"J-just now, that tree over there."
"Huh?"
"It doesn't match the cabin... You gave me witchy clothes, so I thought I should f-fix a tree in return..."
Anne stared blankly, then grasped the implication and seized Mimir's hands, beaming.
"That's right!"
"Y-yeah."
"What comes around goes around, huh? Yes, fix the tree!"
"I don't know healing magic for diseased trees, so I'll need to r-research... might take time."
"They say the longest way around is the shortest way home! It's fine! Take your time!"
Anne hugged Mimir tight and bounced around. Mimir hugged back, less enthusiastically but happier than ever.
Thus, their cohabitation—what Mimir thought would be brief—continued.
She learned housework from Anne in the cabin.
Minus magic, Mimir had zero talent for domestic tasks. Needlework took hundreds of pricked fingers to barely manage.
How had she survived solo travels? Apparently, her "practical compressed survival method": cram all ingredients into a pot and make gruel. She boasted proudly.
"Ugh..."
Anne shook her head.
In exchange, Mimir shared her travel tales with Anne.
"S-so, then the i-inquisitor throws stakes at me..."
Of course, Mimir's communication skills hovered near zero.
Even thrilling stories came out dull as dishwater.
"Ugh..."
Anne preferred learning magic over boring yarns. As a normal human, not a monster, she couldn't, though.
"You suck at teaching."
The grudge from those lessons carried to modern times, birthing her "Basic Magic Lecture" post—a secret Mimir kept to herself.
As time passed, their range expanded from cabin to forest.
"T-today we really eat rabbit meat?"
"That's right."
"Catching something that cute to eat...?"
Anne watched Mimir devour rabbit in a trance, face deadpan.
And soon, forest to village.
"Wh-what if people see us?"
"It's fine. If we flaunt the witch vibe openly, they'll be too scared to report us..."
"Over there, heretics! Seize them!"
The pair, in black robes and pointed hats, roamed the village until guards spotted them and they fled.
Then village to lake.
"Th-this is Lake Lehman, the kingdom's largest..."
"W-whoa..."
Lake to sea, sea to island, island to palace, palace to manor, manor to polar wastes, poles to desert.
Using Mimir's magic, they beheld countless sights.
Four years passed like that. Somehow, their goal became "tour the whole world!"
Forgotten was the tree-healing pretext amid the joy.
For Mimir, meeting her first communicative friend, these were life's happiest days.
Anne human, herself monster—eternal parting loomed someday.
But not now.
Happiness would last decades, she thought.
Arrogant delusion.
Oblivious to death's shadow creeping on Anne, Mimir simply smiled in bliss.