The Witch and the Playwright
In that moment when I hurled those cruel words at Karin and stormed out of the brothel—after she had destroyed the precious first draft of my manuscript—I felt regret. I knew I could never recreate that exact manuscript again, but its flow still lingered in my mind.
So many of the scenes I had poured my heart into had come to me while living with Karin. A person who could inspire me like that would never appear again. Even if she was a prostitute, she was the one who made me shine brightest. Whether it was the same flow or an entirely new script, I could always write another play—but I would never meet someone like her again.
Right after being dragged out and thrown into the street, shame and rage had burned so hot that I even considered ending my life. But once I hid in an alley and wept like a child for a while, my heart began to settle.
‘…I have to go back… and find her.’
I needed to apologize to Karin.
Yet how could I possibly return to the brothel after being dragged out and cast aside like that? I thought of going during the quiet daytime hours when the women weren’t working, perhaps bringing a pouch of silver coins to beg the owner for forgiveness—but I didn’t even have enough money to buy paper for my plays, let alone silver.
‘Come to think of it, if I fail to become the imperial playwright this time, I won’t even have money to eat.’
Karin had always paid my fees whenever I visited. Every time I saw her, I was stealing time she could have spent with paying customers, and on top of that, she had to hand over a portion of each client’s money to the brothel. My visits had been nothing but losses for her.
‘Looking back, I really did something awful too.’
Still, the fact that she had accepted all of it was proof that she cared for me… though by now, even that feeling might have cooled and faded.
Once the suicidal urge that had flared like black flames finally died down, I spent the next several days wandering the market alleys of the eastern district like a broken man. Of course, I never managed to submit anything to the imperial theater troupe.
With nothing in my pockets, I survived on bread so hard it should have been thrown away and cheap liquor whose ability to even get me drunk was questionable. I roamed the streets hoping I might run into Karin by chance, clinging to nothing but foolish luck.
While I was steadily falling apart like that, someone entered the shabby tavern where I was drinking myself into a stupor in broad daylight and called out to me.
“You there, the young man who’s already drunk this early.”
The deep, powerful voice made me turn around without thinking.
“Yes?”
A man stood there who was easily two heads taller than me—built so massively I couldn’t tell if he was human or an ogre. I shrank beneath his enormous shadow.
I tried to read his expression to figure out what he wanted, and only then did I recognize him. He was the same man who had been performing street strength shows the day I last saw Karin.
“Ah. You’re that gentleman from before……”
I bowed my head at once.
“I’m sorry. Karin did something terrible that day.”
“Huh? No, no. I’m not bothered by that. More importantly—you said Karin?”
“Yes. That was the name of the flower girl who was with me……”
“Hmm…… I see.”
The giant tilted his head slightly, then pulled something from his pocket and tossed it to me.
“Read it.”
“……?”
The paper was crumpled from being carried around, yet the quality was strangely fine—almost as if printed by someone important. When I unfolded it, I saw a familiar face.
“Huh…? Karin……?”
It was a wanted poster. A terrifying mage who had completely destroyed a certain ducal house… a former hero… the same person I had seen in the play at the theater the day I last met Karin. The witch Kaira.
I looked up at the man with a blank expression.
“Just as it says. The girl who used the alias Karin was actually the witch who once shook the entire empire. The portrait was drawn by professors from the Magic Academy who taught her, so there’s no mistake.”
“That can’t be……”
“I had a vague feeling the first time I saw her. I remembered her because she looked so much like a child I once saw, but now that I think about it, her face was on the wanted posters too.”
My mouth denied it, but everything fit. All of Karin’s awkward behavior, the fact that a woman selling her body had actually been a mage—it all made sense now.
Even the way she had occasionally frowned while watching the play with me that day, reactions I hadn’t understood at the time, and the uncomfortable look she gave whenever I compared her to the witch Kaira—everything.
‘Haha…… I really did show her the most awful play that day.’
“I’ve met a lot of people during my adventuring days, so I like to think I’m a decent judge of character……”
The man placed a hand on my shoulder.
“You really cared for that witch, didn’t you?”
Yes. Karin was Karin. Even if she was the witch Kaira—
“Cared for her…… That’s not it.”
I dropped my head so he wouldn’t see the tears welling in my eyes.
“I still care for her……”
“I see.”
A large, calloused hand appeared in front of me.
“You’re young. And…… you’re a real man.”
“I like you. My name’s Wolf. I used to be an adventurer, and now, as you can see, I scrape by doing street shows for pocket change. And you?”
“Iskil. A playwright…… or rather, an aspiring playwright.”
I said this while taking Wolf’s sturdy hand. Even as we shook, I looked up at his bearded face with uneasy eyes.
“Are you…… going to turn me in?”
Wolf’s thick eyebrows twitched.
“Of course not.”
At the same time, his large left hand came to rest gently on my shoulder.
“I would never sell someone out for a few coins. If we were complete strangers, maybe, but not people who know each other.”
Then he muttered, almost to himself,
“Though…… I did beat her unconscious last time.”
I didn’t understand what he meant by that. Wolf paused, then looked me straight in the eye.
“Something I learned while adventuring: things aren’t always what they seem. Maybe she really did wipe out that ducal house, but it could also be that the story was just an excuse to purge a former hero.”
“Iskil, trust your own eyes. It’s not that some evil witch hid her identity and pretended to like you. It’s that the Karin you care for had her own circumstances.”
“……Yes.”
After sharing a drink and a piece of bread with Wolf, we parted ways. My path was now clear. I had both the will to live and a reason to keep going.
I began collecting every wanted poster of Karin—of the witch Kaira—that I could find. Partly so she would be less noticeable, but also because I had no money for paper; the backs of the posters would serve as writing material.
During the day, whenever I had time, I helped Wolf by drawing crowds for his shows. Since it was such simple work, he couldn’t pay me much—just enough for a day’s bread and charcoal—but that was enough. At least I could stay alive.
My landlord found it strange that I kept bringing home stacks of the witch’s wanted posters, but he accepted it with an odd explanation. Apparently, plenty of people pitied her because she was beautiful, or even openly supported her.
By the light of a dim lamp, I rewrote the lost manuscript on the backs of Karin’s wanted posters, pausing now and then to stare at her face printed on the front.
‘It’s not just because she’s pretty……’
She was someone whose presence made me happy. Someone whose mere existence filled me with joy. Someone whose very existence made the desire to create well up inside me. This magically printed portrait showed her exactly as she had been—beautiful beyond words, the way she looked right after graduating from the Magic Academy. I couldn’t stop my charcoal from moving across the paper.
Yes. With this……
With this, I could finish it. I didn’t know when the next imperial playwright recruitment would be, but I would create a play that would leave everyone in awe.
Believing that, I resolved to stand before Karin with pride on the day it happened.
I never returned to Arto’s brothel. I was still afraid of being thrown out again, and I was terrified of learning how Karin—how Kaira—saw me now.
Instead, I occasionally asked people coming and going from the brothel about the famous mage prostitute’s current situation.
And then I regretted it.
That day, as usual, I was helping Wolf earn a few coins. We weren’t near the eastern wall where we had first met, but closer to the central plaza.
However, a group of heavily armed soldiers dragging a crude cart blocked the street so noisily that we had to stop working. Wolf grumbled but decided to watch the procession out of curiosity.
When he returned, his face was pale despite his massive frame.
“This is bad, Iskil.”
“What? Are they cracking down on street performers?”
“No, it’s not that……”
Wolf grabbed both of my hands with trembling arms.
“……This is the transport procession for the witch Kaira.”