Rewrite That Witch
CH1496 · Rewrite
☕ Support

Chapter 1496: The Moment for Reunion

The letter arrived in a crumpled envelope that smelled faintly of salt.

Sean knocked, entered, set it on the corner of her desk with the careful manner of a man delivering something he could not quite categorize. Long-wave radios, wired telegraphs, Sigil of Listenings—all of them were ordinary now, cheap enough that a dockworker could send a message across the continent for a few dollars. Hand-carried letters had become a relic. When one arrived, it meant something.

“Where was it sent from?” Tilly set down her pen.

“The ocean, Your Majesty.” Sean coughed. “The first recipient was a Fjords Exploration Group member. After that, a marine trader, then Festive Harbor, then Shallow Port. If not for the signature I wouldn’t have—”

Tilly had already torn the envelope open.

There were only so many people who would write a letter from the open sea. The handwriting confirmed it before she had read a word: salt-blurred, sun-spotted, unmistakable.

Greetings.

This is the Exploration Group’s first letter.

As per usual conventions, we will have the captain write first.

Hi, Your Highness Tilly — no, Your Majesty — we are currently on our way to the Sky-sea Realm. More accurately, we have already reached the edge of the floating continent.

It was only when I saw it with my own eyes that I understood what a floating continent truly meant. Compared to the Deity of Gods, the difference is like the Fjords next to the Land of Dawn. It has mountains. It has creeks and rivers. Seawater pours down its walls in curtains. The sight is so enormous it defeats words. If it were at all possible, I would bring you and Sister Soraya over.

The Sky-sea Realm monsters have been destroyed, but this land is still entirely unknown ground. Are there ancient ruins? Is there another core structure holding it aloft? The questions multiply every time I look at it. I’d bet everything that the Exploration Group will be studying it for the next decade at minimum.

But I will be the first.

I’ll tell you everything when I’m back. Father’s fleet is chasing hard behind me, but this time he will not overtake me. I’m off.

Missing you, Lightning.

The handwriting changed abruptly. The new hand was rounder, more emphatic, with a small bird-scratch flourish on the punctuation.

It’s me now; Maggie’s turn, coo!

I don’t know what to say, coo, but I am so happy every single day, coo! Carrying the wolf is very heavy but we talk all day without stopping. There is always something new to look at. It is so much better than sitting on a roof alone, coo!

Right, right — the fish here are so many different kinds, I can’t try them all, coo! But without condiments, roasting feels empty and wrong. Could you send some condiments to the Sky-sea Realm? Please, coo.

Tilly pressed her lips together to hold back a laugh and turned to the second sheet.

Greetings, Your Majesty. I am Lorgar Burnflame of the Wildflame clan. As Joan spends the greater part of each day underwater, I will be recording her thoughts as well.

Exploration is a genuinely fascinating endeavor. It has shown me that the world is far larger than any continent—larger than I was capable of imagining when I only knew the one I was born on. Our immediate plan is to make landfall on the Sky-sea Realm, establish camp, and begin searching for connections to the Shadow Islands’ seabed. The continent sits at a great distance from the Land of Dawn, so a reliable route will need to be found before any real development becomes possible.

As there are few concrete findings to report at this stage, I will not take more of your time. One request, if I may be so bold: could you relay word to my father and my clansmen that I am well? Thank you.

On a separate note — please disregard Maggie’s comments about Lady Eleanor and the floating island. We all understand how demanding government affairs are. But — and I ask this with full awareness of how it sounds — if condiments are sent, might Miss Evelyn’s drinks accompany them?

May the Three Gods be with you.

At the bottom of the second sheet, a small drawing: a human figure, a bird, a wolf, and a fish, all rendered in a hand that was clearly not Lorgar’s and clearly very pleased with itself.

Tilly folded the papers together with more care than the situation strictly required.

“This letter needs no reply,” she told Sean. “You’re dismissed.”

He bowed and retreated. The door settled closed.

She sat with it for a moment—the silence of the study, the neat stack of documents waiting for her attention, the faint smell of salt still on the paper in her hands.

Then she put her face into the documents on her desk.

“AHHHHHHHH—!”

The sound she made was entirely undignified and she did not stop making it. She shook her head back and forth until two stacks of paper slid off the desk and fanned across the floor. She sat up. Stared at the ceiling. The Phoenix in its hangar. Lightning at the edge of an impossible floating continent, mountains and rivers on its back, seawater pouring down its sides, nobody’s flag planted yet.

That was the life. That was the life she had wanted.

It was Roland’s fault. I can’t return yet, I need to search for Ashes, someone needs to hold the throne until the barrier between witches and ordinary people disappears. Five years ago. Still waiting. Anna and Nightingale had vanished along with him, which meant either Roland had been telling the truth or he had assembled the most elaborate excuse in recorded history, and either way Tilly was here in this room with these documents while Lightning was discovering a new continent.

She collected the fallen papers from the floor and restacked them with slightly more violence than necessary.

The Fertile Plains were being developed. The lands under Wolfheart and Everwinter were being put to use. Every administrator in every province had their hand out, and resources did not, as she had now explained to people more times than she could count, simply emerge from the ground. Ryan’s so-called rebellion—every merchant he had recruited had sold the information to Neverwinter before the ink dried on his plans, so his entire scheme had arrived on her desk before he had even taken a meaningful step. After everything he had suffered to earn his freedom, he had walked himself back into a cell with an idea a child could have improved. She genuinely did not know how to feel about that.

And beneath all of it, the real work: the direction of the Kingdom’s technology, the friction between private enterprise and the Administrative Office’s commercial arms, the constantly shifting weight of political factions pressing against each other. These were the decisions that mattered. These were the ones she would be measured by.

She had once believed, with the casual confidence of someone who had never held the title, that being a ruler was not especially difficult. Roland had managed it while also running his Dream World project, so how hard could it be? She knew better now. She knew it with a thoroughness that had taken about six months to fully settle into her bones.

“Creak.”

The door opened.

Tilly straightened immediately, arranged her face into an expression of diligent productivity, and let a thread of irritation into her voice. “What is it? I said to announce—”

No answer.

The room held its silence. The warm afternoon wind moved through the window. A few documents lifted and drifted.

Tilly looked up from the desk.

The pen dropped from her hand and hit the floor.

Discussion

Suggest a change