Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Autumn had come, and the crops were ripening.
As harvest season approached, the village was filled with the smiles of adults.
A good harvest could never be guaranteed every year, but ever since the witch settled near the village a few years ago and the village chief asked for her help, every harvest had been abundant.
Because of that, autumn felt no different from a festival.
Joshua’s father, too, had been able to live comfortably for the past few years.
There was only one condition the witch had given them—
they must never reveal that she lived here.
At first, the villagers had doubted her.
But after receiving the blessing of abundance she brought, they faithfully kept her secret.
“Isn’t the witch a bad person?”
Joshua asked her mother while eating.
“In the stories you tell me before bed, witches always hurt people.”
“Not every witch is bad.”
Her mother smiled and pointed at the table.
“Look. Thanks to her, we can eat every day.”
“My beloved daughter, Joshua. Never say that the witch is bad in front of others.”
Her father joined in after her mother.
“You could pray to the nameless god a hundred times, and he wouldn’t even glance our way. But the witch made it possible for us to eat like this.”
Honestly, whether the witch was good or bad didn’t matter much to Joshua.
She no longer had to carefully watch her parents’ expressions and eat less during winter.
And during the cold season, the firewood in their fireplace never ran out.
The witch had also helped find lost children in the forest.
The adults always warned them that if they went too deep into the forest, monsters would eat them.
But some boys, bragging that they could defeat monsters, wandered too deep and got lost.
Even after the sun had set, the adults, including Joshua’s father, searched everywhere with torches in hand.
And then—
with the moonlight at her back, the witch appeared.
Holding the hands of the missing children.
“You little idiot! Where did you go?!”
“Dad!”
The scolding of fathers reunited with their children and the children’s cries of relief eased the hearts of the villagers.
During that time, the village chief approached the witch and bowed his head deeply.
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“I heard crying near my home and went out to look. I simply brought them back.”
“How can we ever repay this?”
“There’s no need for thanks. Though I am running low on those herbs I mentioned before.”
“Of course. We’ll prepare them.”
Leaving behind the deeply bowing village chief, the witch walked away from the village.
Watching her leave, Joshua felt something strange.
She looked nothing like the witches from her mother’s bedtime stories.
Instead, she seemed mysterious.
Almost like a fairy.
And Joshua wasn’t the only one who thought that.
It was a common thought among the girls her age.
“When I grow up, I’m going to become a witch!”
Whenever Joshua helped wash clothes by the stream with the other children, she often heard girls saying that.
The adults would hear it and smile bitterly, unsure whether they should scold them or not.
After all, witches usually carried terrible rumors.
Stories of villages being cursed into old age after offending a witch.
Stories of entire kingdoms suffering famine.
That was what people knew.
But this witch was different.
She had helped them.
And no one had been harmed.
Some villagers even whispered that maybe she wasn’t a witch at all—
but a spirit living in the mountains.
As time passed, the adults spoke more and more about the witch.
Especially her appearance.
For the men, it became common drinking talk.
“If I were ten years younger…”
“With what? You think you could satisfy her? Hahaha!”
At the village’s only inn and tavern, shameless talk about the witch was heard often.
And the more that happened, the worse the wives’ opinions of her became.
What if one day their husbands left for the witch?
Drive the witch out of the village.
That idea started to spread.
But there was never a proper reason.
The witch harmed no one.
And her fertilizer guaranteed good harvests.
Unlike what the wives feared, no man had actually become involved with her.
The men only talked.
As men often did.
But there was always an exception.
Tony.
A fool who had injured his head as a child.
One day, he left the village to confess his feelings to the witch.
It happened while Rebecca, his only family, was away earning money.
The villagers searched through the forest for him.
But they found no trace.
“Rebecca, are you sure Tony went to find the witch?”
“He talked about her every single day! It has to be her!”
By the time the moon hung high in the sky, and still no sign of Tony appeared, the villagers believed the witch would come again—
just like before.
“Don’t worry. Tony will come back safely.”
They comforted Rebecca while believing the witch would appear and bring him back.
Only Rebecca trembled in fear, praying to anyone—
the witch, the nameless god, anyone at all.
“If Tony is gone, I’ll be alone in this world. Please… save him.”
The moon set.
And by the next day—
neither the witch nor Tony appeared.
The witch killed Tony.
Everyone knew where the rumor started.
But no one spoke about it.
After days of searching, they found only bones.
Whether it was truly Tony was confirmed by the silver ring Rebecca had given him on his birthday.
It remained on the skeleton.
The witch would never kill Tony.
The villagers believed that.
But Rebecca—
Rebecca wanted to believe otherwise.
Even if monsters had killed him—
she believed the witch was the reason.
Because she tempted him.
Rebecca shut herself away from the world.
Despite the villagers’ concern, she never left her house.
She clutched Tony’s silver ring and cried endlessly.
The village atmosphere grew heavier.
The witch rarely came into the village.
But if she did—
no one knew what Rebecca might do.
What if she tried to hurt the witch?
The village chief didn’t want to return to the days of poverty.
So he ordered the village’s young men to look after Rebecca and make sure she didn’t do anything reckless.
Some opposed it.
“Look at the state of the village.”
Joshua’s father complained to the chief.
“How long is everyone supposed to suffer because of Rebecca?”
“Watch your words,” the chief replied.
“For the sake of your daughter too. This could happen to anyone.”
“Why don’t we just get rid of the witch? These good harvests aren’t because of her. They’re because of our hard work.”
“And honestly, many wives are tired of gathering herbs for her.”
“I’ve heard the Holy Kingdom has started hunting witches. If word gets out that we worked with one…”
More people opposed the chief than he expected.
“Enough.”
The village chief struck his staff against the ground.
“My decision will not change.”
He looked at everyone firmly.
“The witch has nothing to do with this. Go home and keep your mouths shut. Tony’s death was an accident. Rebecca’s pain will heal with time.”
There was no pain that time could not heal.
He believed that because he had lived long enough to know it.
Pain faded.
Or so he thought.
But time did not wait for the village.
One day, the village became unusually busy.
A massive merchant caravan arrived.
The line of wagons stretched so far that its end could not be seen.
The goods loaded onto the wagons caught the children’s attention.
Joshua stared at them with sparkling eyes.
The village lay on one of the trade routes between the Kingdom of Verdi and the Holy Kingdom.
Originally, it was too poor to be considered as a trade stop.
But in the past few years, it had become known as a blessed land because of its yearly abundant harvests.
And merchants followed profit.
Barum, the leader of the Verdandi Merchant Group, made his fortune trading between Verdi and the Holy Kingdom.
Until last year, he had relied on sea routes.
But strange rumors about the sea had reduced shipping traffic.
So now he had no choice but to travel by land.
He was transporting several times the usual amount of goods to celebrate the hundred-year alliance between the two kingdoms.
He had to be careful.
After gathering advice from fellow merchants, adventurers, explorers, and pilgrims, he learned of this village—
the blessed land of Gariril.
“How is this place?”
“You mean Gariril? It used to be a poor village, but for the last few years, it’s had great harvests every year. Not a bad stop.”
Traveling with a large caravan required a lot of food.
Carrying too much would slow them down.
This village was the perfect place to restock.
For the villagers, it was a festival unlike any before.
A few wanderers passing through was normal.
But a merchant group this large?
Even the village chief had never seen it.
The whole village was noisy and lively.
“How do you manage such a good harvest every year?”
“Haha. It’s all the blessing of the nameless god.”
The villagers kept the witch’s existence a complete secret.
The merchants pressed for answers, suspecting some hidden method.
But every villager gave the same answer.
The blessing of god.
And who would dare deny that?
Barum noticed the uncomfortable glances the villagers exchanged.
He knew there was something behind it.
But he didn’t pry.
With the Holy Kingdom’s witch hunts growing more severe, surely they weren’t using a witch’s power.
And even if they were—
digging too deep might ruin a profitable opportunity.
Knock. Knock.
“Master Barum, a village girl wishes to meet you.”
“What for?”
Just as he was about to rest in one of the village’s better rooms, arranged through the village chief’s kindness, an unexpected visitor arrived.
“She refuses to say. She insists on speaking to you directly.”
“What does she look like?”
“She’s quite pretty.”
“Let her in.”
He wasn’t particularly interested.
But a young woman visiting this late at night—
and pretty at that—
couldn’t be a total loss.
When the door opened, Barum’s interest sharpened.
The girl’s eyes were red, as if she had been crying.
Her thin frame gave her a fragile look that stirred protective instincts.
Her small face was rare for a country girl.
Even with simple makeup, she looked beautiful.
“Thank you for allowing me to meet you. My name is Rebecca.”
“I am Barum. It’s late, so let’s get straight to it. What do you want?”
“I came to make a deal.”
Rebecca pulled out a letter hidden inside her old corset.
Barum felt something dangerous in her gaze.
Women who had lost everything often used everything they had as weapons.
“This letter…”
“It doesn’t matter who. Please deliver it to the person in the Holy Kingdom you trust the most.”
“And why should I?”
“I heard your people talking today. They said you are respected in the Holy Kingdom. That even the faithful know your name.”
Barum took the wrinkled letter and considered whether this would benefit him—or harm him.
“You said this was a deal. What do I gain?”
Rebecca removed the silver ring from her thumb and placed it on the shelf.
“Hm. I don’t think one ring is enough.”
Rebecca smiled.
She hadn’t expected it to be enough.
“Then what about the most valuable thing a maiden has?”
Slowly, she loosened her clothes.
Awkwardly, she offered herself.
“It will feel good.”
Whispering into his ear, Rebecca closed her eyes.
She wanted the night to end quickly.
Whether her flower was broken or not no longer mattered.
What value did the world have without Tony?
“My poor little brother.”
Wait for me.
I’ll follow soon, so you won’t be lonely.
Rebecca hanged herself.
It happened less than a week after the merchant caravan left.
Her funeral was quick.
As her will requested, she was buried beside Tony.
Joshua tilted her head at the strange atmosphere in the village.
To be honest, she didn’t really understand what it meant to hang oneself.
At dinner, her mother cried.
Her father smiled and said it was for the best.
Joshua didn’t know whether she should be sad or smile.
Her father once told her how Rebecca and Tony had once lived in a pigsty without a home.
The villagers pitied them and built them a house together.
Rebecca had raised her younger brother alone, taking on all the difficult work in the village.
She was kind.
Gentle.
And she always shared snacks with the children.
Joshua only felt sad knowing she would never see Rebecca again.
That was all Rebecca’s death meant to her.
“Joshua, come here.”
The next day, after her father left for work, her mother took her hand and led her up a small hill.
They carried white flowers.
And arrived at two small stone graves.
White flowers had already been placed there by others.
Between the graves, pale purple flowers bloomed beautifully.
“Mom, what are those flowers?”
Her mother didn’t know.
She had seen them before, growing near graves or animal corpses.
They always gave the living an unpleasant feeling.
But saying that now, while sending off the dead, felt wrong.
“That’s Rebecca and Tony’s farewell.”
“Farewell? To who?”
“To the people they love.”
Joshua blinked.
“Then Rebecca and Tony are saying goodbye to each other?”
“That’s right.”
“Then… what if someone doesn’t have anyone they love?”
It was such a simple question.
But children often asked the sharpest questions.
Her mother looked into Joshua’s pure eyes and knelt to her level.
Then she hugged her tightly.
“People always love someone. Sometimes you just don’t realize it yet. Sometimes you feel lost or lonely. But don’t forget this.”
She held Joshua close.
“Your mother loves you very much.”
In her mother’s arms, Joshua felt a strange warmth tickling her heart.
“Do you love your mother too, Joshua?”
“Yes, Mom! I love you too! And Dad too!”