I and the Witch of Time Who Seeks the Past

Chapter 2 — The City of Fog (4)

The last name was clearly a magical alias—that much was obvious. But what exactly was the grave issue mentioned in the letter? What could be so serious that the Magic Association was desperate to summon Mr. Ken?

At that moment, the bathroom door opened. Lijedahl stepped out, towel-drying her hair, a faint fragrance drifting into the air along with the lingering steam.

To my shock, she had come out wearing nothing but a bath towel.

"Wha—Lijedahl, what are you doing?"

I quickly turned my face away, unsure whether to call her careless or just completely lacking in common sense.

"Uh, I forgot to bring my clothes inside... haha..."

I didn't look at her, but judging by the hurried footsteps, she must have grabbed her clothes and dashed straight back into the bathroom.

Several minutes later, she crept out again on tiptoe.

Her face was bright red, her eyes now a deep shade of pink, as she shyly covered her cheeks with her hands.

"Will, it's just... It's because I... I trust you. I know you'd never do anything improper, so I... um, I thought you'd understand... r-right?"

She was rambling now, her voice trembling with embarrassment.

"You... I didn't really understand what you just said, but... couldn't you have just called me to bring your clothes?"

"No way! If you brought out my underwear or something, I'd feel so—ugh... Besides, the room is huge. I didn't hear anything outside, so I thought you were far away. I figured I could sneak out quickly, but instead..."

I was at a loss for words. Saying anything more would just make it sound like I was picking on her.

"Uh... fine, fine. Get yourself settled, then tell me what you wanted to talk about."

"Okay, okay."

Lijedahl took a deep breath.

"Ahem, let me start. You've read the letter, right? It mentioned the difficult situation the Magic Association is facing—something that concerns all of Britain. Can you guess what it is?"

She paced back and forth in front of me, just as she often did when thinking aloud.

"... I'm not sure. My guess... It's about your sister?"

"Mm, clever. That's very likely the case. But actually, there's another matter that may have caught their attention too."

"What is it?"

"Our time travel. Remember what Anna and Jona said? That all the mages in Britain felt the disturbance from our magic circle."

Right! There was that as well.

"Yes... That's definitely possible. But isn't our main goal to save your sister? We're outsiders here; we’re only at this meeting because of Mr. Ken. Why should we care about the rest?"

"Because I may very well be classified as a 'powerful mage.'"

Her tone grew serious, her eyes shifting to a somber gray.

"... You're right. We need to prepare for that possibility."

"That letter invited Mr. Ken so urgently because he's both powerful and respected. Clearly, the Magic Association is in desperate need of capable people. And now, I've appeared—out of nowhere, no less. If Mr. Ken doesn't vouch for me and instead puts me forward, things could become very troublesome for us."

I rubbed my forehead.

"Then we'll just have to keep a low profile. If worst comes to worst and you're pushed into the spotlight, don't show any opposition. Pretend to accept it, but from start to finish, avoid making any statements. Stay unnoticed. Of course, last-minute plans like this always run into unexpected problems, but as long as you follow that approach, we should get by without too much trouble. And if you're ever forced to speak, take a neutral stance—or side with Mr. Ken. That's the safest option."

Lijedahl instinctively rested her chin on her hand in thought, while I, too, began piecing things together.

Our real objective was to save her sister. This meeting with the Magic Association was a golden opportunity—a chance to connect with influential figures and gather information. With Mr. Ken's connections as our stepping stone, we might uncover something crucial.

I voiced my reasoning as I worked it out, earning Lijedahl's approval.

"Will, since you're my 'assistant,' you normally wouldn't have a place in this meeting. And Anna and Jona, as apprentices, wouldn't either. So this is your chance—use it to get the truth out of them."

"You mean... to dig into Mr. Ken as well?"

Lijedahl smiled, giving me a meaningful look.

I understood. I had guessed right.

We knew nothing about Mr. Ken. We couldn't fully trust him without learning more.

"All right, Will. I know you still have questions for me, too. Go ahead—ask."

She really does know me well.

"Fine. Then... your sister. Who exactly is she? Or rather, what's her name?"

Lijedahl smiled lightly and sat down beside me.

"I knew you'd ask that. Her name is Frisse—they call her the Witch of Memory."

Memory?

"She's proud, even arrogant at times, but she cares deeply for her sisters. She would never allow anyone to harm us. And she herself doesn't like to hurt others. Sometimes her pride can be irritating, but other times... it makes her truly admirable."

Her voice dimmed as she spoke, a trace of sorrow clouding her expression.

“When I was on the run, I heard news of her. She had encountered the child we once raised. By the time they met, the Church had already surrounded them. Even after a soldier's spear pierced her body, Frisse still fought desperately, forcing her way through with magic to give him a chance to escape. But she herself was captured.”

Lijedahl brushed her hand across her own body.

"After that, I heard she was subjected to brutal torture—just like I once was. But she never gave in. She never even bowed her head. In the end, she was sealed away, struggling endlessly until this era... where she finally died."

I looked at her. Her hands were trembling.

From Mr. Tuer's stories, I knew that Lijedahl, too, had endured unspeakable torment.

"You... you both went through all that?"

She gave a faint nod.

"We don't die so easily... but the pain was real. I will never forget the feeling of fire burning my skin, the agony of my flesh being torn apart, the numbness of being tortured until consciousness faded... I don't want to live through that ever again."

Lijedahl buried her face in her arms, trembling.

I couldn't even imagine enduring that kind of suffering myself. All I could do was try to comfort her.

I pulled her into an embrace. She flinched at first, surprised by the sudden gesture.

"It's all right. It's over now."

I stroked her back gently. I wasn't sure if it would help, but at least it was something.

"... Yes, it's over. Those days are finally behind me."

Then she returned the embrace.

"That's why I must save her. No matter what."

She pulled away, her expression regaining a trace of her usual smile.

“There’s still time—because I met you. Do you know how deeply grateful I am to you? For understanding me, for helping me, for saving me.”

Her words weighed heavily on me, almost too much to bear.

"I'm just an ordinary man. I'm not that noble."

I shrugged, and before she could say more, I cut her off.

"Alright, the sad part is over, isn't it? Great time mage?"

She was about to speak, but my words caught her off guard, turning into a genuine laugh.

"What is it? Why does hearing you say that sound so funny?"

"Haha, maybe because of the way I look?"

Her spirit was strong. I could feel it. Anyone else would have collapsed long ago.

"All right, enough laughing. Tell me—what was that Tarot magic you mentioned when you and Mr. Ken were doing that air magic earlier?"

Lijedahl lay down on the bed, casting me a playful glance.

"Will, could it be that you want to become a mage?"

"I don't have that kind of talent. I'm just curious."

"This kind of magic can actually be learned by ordinary people. You're clever enough—I could teach you. How about it? Want to become a half-baked mage?"

"No thanks. I'd rather not be half-baked."

"Haha."

She rolled onto her side, facing me.

"You know Tarot cards, right?"

"Ah, so that's what it is."

"Tarot cards aren't just for divination—they can also be used to test magical affinity. For ordinary people, if your affinity matches the card, learning is easy. If not, it might take three years to get anywhere."

Hearing that, I already had a pretty good guess at what category I'd fall into.

"Then I'd better stick to something I'm compatible with."

"Normally, a mage would give you a deck and have you draw your fate. But I don't need that. I've studied magic for so long I can feel the flow of your magic right away."

"Oh? Then what suits me?"

"The Hermit."

"Sounds about right. Fits me pretty well."

"What's your zodiac sign?"

"Virgo."

"Age?"

"Uh, twenty-seven."

"A perfect match. See? That's my ability."

"So what powers does the Hermit have?"

"I'm not entirely sure. The Hermit's abilities are unpredictable."

"What do you mean?"

"Before learning magic, all mages must study the entire Tarot and learn to use it fluently. Out of a hundred people, maybe two will have a similar affinity with the Hermit card—and even then, not exactly the same."

"... I see."

"So, the exact abilities? You'll only know once you start using them. Besides, tarot powers are meant to work alongside other spells—they're more of a support."

"Got it. Then what's your strongest affinity?"

"The Mage."

"Of course... I don't really know the meaning, but just the name already suits you perfectly."

"Haha, so you're saying I'm a true mage?"

"Pretty close."

"Thanks for the compliment, Mr. Hermit."

We teased each other back and forth, and for the first time, I felt like I was beginning to understand the charm of magic.

"So, how do I learn it?"

"Not possible right now—we don't have a deck."

"Oh, I see."

"But I can at least tell you the essence. Though it may be a bit hard to understand."

"Go ahead, I'll try to make sense of it."

“一An old man in a gray cloak stands atop a snowy mountain peak, holding an oil lamp, lost in thought. Its faint glow flickers in the desolate, dim night—seemingly powerless, yet to him, it is truth. It is hope. The staff in his hand is many things: the Fool’s plaything, the Mage’s conduit between heaven and earth, the Chariot’s spear of triumph. But after ignorance, fervor, and glory, it now seems so ordinary.”

"..."

Lijedahl wore a constant smile—the confident smile of someone knowledgeable speaking to the uninitiated.

"Don't think too hard. I'll teach you when the time comes."

"... All right."

Night fell. We extinguished the lights and lay down to rest.

Whatever awaited us—danger or disaster—we would endure it together.

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(T/N): When I read ‘the Fool’, it automatically reminds me of Lord of the Mysteries (my fave novel of all time). PRAISE THE FOOL 🧐