Chapter 700: The First Senior Witch
No. 76 had made her decision before Wendy finished looking at her.
The surveillance was already established. Moving against it would accomplish nothing except confirming suspicion that currently existed only as instinct. Going on the tour, staying close to the four Wolfheart witches, seeing what Neverwinter chose to show its newcomers — these were the best options available. If the witches entered the Castle District and she wasn’t already inside the trust perimeter, the distance between her and the Chosen One would only grow.
She gave Wendy a slightly self-conscious smile. “I’m sorry to be extra trouble.”
“I told you she wouldn’t mind,” Amy said cheerfully.
Across the table, Annie had said nothing. She was looking at the two of them with the expression of someone who had noticed a texture in something and wasn’t yet sure what it meant.
No. 76 filed this.
The street outside was clean — the previous night’s snow swept to the sides in neat ridges, the pavement visible and dry underneath. New flakes were still falling, but fewer of them, and the city moved through them as though they were minor weather rather than the Months of Demons. Workers moved through the streets with the purposeful efficiency of people who had somewhere specific to be and knew how long it took to get there.
The Five-Colored Stone warmed in its setting.
No. 76 kept her head at a natural angle and found them: two shapes above, in the falling snow. One human. One bird — large for a pigeon, white, which she noted with the professional interest of someone cataloguing surveillance assets. Not pets sent to observe. Witches sent to observe, which was a meaningful distinction. The Witch Union was running the kind of security protocols she associated with organizations that had learned, at cost, what insufficient caution produced.
She revised her estimate of them upward again.
In the Taquila age, city-states of this size had operated with comparable thoroughness. The difference was that Taquila had four centuries of institutional knowledge, a codified intelligence apparatus, and six thousand witches in residence. Neverwinter had apparently reproduced the outcomes from scratch.
“Since we’ll be walking for a while,” Wendy said, leading them north, “let me explain some things about witches and their abilities.” Her voice had the relaxed quality of someone covering a subject they’d thought about carefully. “From the moment of awakening, every witch lives with the magic bites. The Church called it Demonic Torture. It isn’t — it’s a natural consequence of magic power growing faster than the body can adapt. I imagine you all know this already.”
Annie nodded. “Survival into adulthood depends on it.”
Amy raised her hand. “Broken Sword told me.”
Broken Sword said, quietly, that she’d worked it out while wandering alone. She’d been using her power constantly and had noticed the pattern by chance.
Wendy sighed with the warmth of someone who recognized how narrow that margin had been. “The Witch Cooperation Association taught what we could. Getting here at all was fortune. But once past adulthood — once the magic power has solidified — the original ability can develop further. A witch may gain derivative skills. The magic cyclone expands, becomes more distinct.”
“Magic cyclone?” Amy said.
“An internal current that never stops moving. Every witch has one. Only certain abilities can perceive it directly — but it’s always present. Its form determines the nature of the power.” Wendy touched Amy’s head lightly. “When we test your ability, you’ll learn what yours looks like.”
No. 76 kept her expression receptive. Internally, she was doing other arithmetic.
This has become secret. The information Wendy was describing — the bites, adulthood, the cyclone, the mechanism of survival — was knowledge the Union had distributed broadly in the old days. Basic maintenance for witches, the way a soldier learns to care for wounds. The fact that the women walking beside her had survived to adulthood by accident, by chance, by figuring it out alone in the wilderness — that meant Starfall City had not passed this on.
What did they do with four centuries?
She knew the official answer. Starfall City had been building the God’s Punishment Army. Every witch who survived was a candidate for the process. Survival information, spread too widely, might have made witches harder to collect.
Lady Alice had never intended that. Lady Alice had fought for witches because witches were the civilization, not the resource.
Or perhaps, over four hundred years, Starfall City drifted. Perhaps Lady Alice’s will and what the city became are not the same thing.
She did not pursue this thought to its conclusion. There was too much else in the street demanding attention.
“There’s more than solidification,” Wendy continued. “Power can evolve. More than once, and not necessarily in the original direction. As long as a witch deepens her understanding of her own ability, the possibility remains open.” She reached into her coat and produced a small silver plate — palm-sized, with a red crystal set at its center. “I want to introduce you to a new sister. Come here, please.”
No. 76’s attention contracted to a single point.
The silver plate. The red crystal. The proportion of it, the slight crudeness of the setting — not the refined craftsmanship of the Quest Society’s workshops, but the correct basic form, the correct principles, unmistakably derived from the same source.
A Sigil of Listening.
The Taquila heritage. Distributed to Blessed Warriors, maintained in the Union’s archives. How had it come here? Through the ruins, most likely — fragments scattered through the old kingdom after the fall, recovered by scavengers who didn’t know what they had, eventually finding their way to someone who recognized the shape of the function even if not the history behind it. The imperfect setting suggested it had been rebuilt from a damaged original, the crystal installed by someone working from partial knowledge.
But it worked. That was what mattered.
The shape that dropped from the sky was a girl — blonde, young, perhaps fourteen, landing with the casual ease of someone for whom the air was simply another surface. Behind her, or rather on her, white and considerably rounder than any respectable pigeon had a right to be, came the bird.
“Hello, everyone!” The girl’s smile had the wattage of someone who found everything about the present moment satisfying. “I’m Lightning. The greatest adventurer in Neverwinter.”
“I’m Maggie!” The pigeon lifted its wings with evident satisfaction. “Coo-Coo!”
Amy pressed both hands to her mouth. “The bird is talking.”
“They’re witches,” Annie said, with the calm of someone who had spent enough time in the world to stop being surprised by it. “The ability is probably related to physical transformation.”
“You’re right.” Wendy extended her forearm to offer the pigeon a perch. “Maggie is a Union sister whose power has evolved.”
No. 76 stared at the pigeon.
The Five-Colored Stone had not particularly reacted to Lightning. But when it caught the pigeon’s signature — when the stone processed what the pigeon’s ability had become, the layering and coherence and depth of a transformation that had gone far enough to cross the threshold — it warmed in a way she recognized.
Senior Witch.
Maggie preened on Wendy’s forearm. Spread her wings with the self-conscious pride of someone presenting credentials. Settled again, and looked at the newcomers with bright, attentive eyes.
No. 76’s four centuries of formal training contained, among many other things, a rule that had never been subject to exception, debate, or amendment: Show proper respect to every Senior Witch of the Union, regardless of circumstances.
It was an unbreakable rule.
In Taquila, a Senior Witch would have joined the upper council. Would have been one of the rulers of the Holy City.
The pigeon rubbed its beak affectionately against Wendy’s cheek.
No. 76 felt something give way in a place she hadn’t known still had structural integrity.
Chapter 700: The First Senior Witch
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
It would be meaningless to fret over the matter now as she had to follow those four even if that would catch attention from others; this would be the best opportunity to observe the city and the Witch Union closely. If she waited until the witches entered the Castle District, it would be much harder to keep in contact with them.
With that thought, No.76 showed Wendy a somewhat timid smile. “I’m sorry to have caused to so much trouble.”
“See, I told you that Miss Wendy wouldn’t mind,” Amy said with a grin.
Instead, it was Annie who sensed something strange. She looked at the two people and did not say a word.
“Let’s go.” After Hero became a bit familiar with using the wheelchair, Wendy clapped her hands and smiled. “Our first stop for today is the central area of Neverwinter, North Slope Mine!”
“Mine?” All five of them were dumbfounded for a moment.
“What’s the point of visiting a mine?” That was the first thought came to No. 76’s mind. She could bet that the rest of the group were having similar thoughts. In both Taquila and the Kingdom of Dawn, labors such as mining were all distributed to slaves or prisoners. The working environment in the mine was extremely hazardous. It was common to have deaths and injuries for heavy labors like mining and transporting. Only the valueless ones would be left in the mines to perish.
“Perhaps Wendy’s purpose is to exhort newcomers like us to behave ourselves by showing us the consequences of disobedience?” No. 76
guessed.
However, there were no hints of threat in Wendy’s tone. “Instead of a mine, it’s more like the source of power to Neverwinter. The more steel that one could produce, the more qualified the one would become to represent justice. This is a sentence that His Majesty always says to us. It’s a mouthful, right?” There was a lingering smile in her eyes when she talked about the king. “Anyways, you guys will know when you guys see it.”
“Represent… justice?”
No. 76 pondered this phrase several times in her mind and still failed to figure out the relation between steel and justice.
When they walked out of the Foreign Affairs Building, the snow on the street had been cleaned. They did not know what kind of magical method that the locals used, there was now only a puddle of water at where the heavy snow had previously piled up. New snow was flowing from the sky, but much less compared to that a few days ago. Hectic freemen were everywhere on the street, seeming to have endless work, they walked hurriedly through the streets and allies in the snow. It was the serene time of severe winter and the Months of Demons, but the whole city was filled with liveliness.
The Five-Colored Stone heated up again, she looked around and soon found her target. There were two people above her head… no, it was a human and a bird, presumably coming to keep an eye on them.
The Witch Union had impressed No. 76 furthermore this time. Such means and conscientiousness were comparable to the small city-state during the Taquila age. It did not seem like a wild witch organization after the decline of the Union.
Besides, she also confirmed that her judgment was accurate, with the clairvoyant power of the green-haired witch, plus the tracking of the flying witch, it would be impossible for her to escape from this place after having exposed her identity.
“Since we’ve got some time on the way to the mine, let me simply introduce the identity of the witch along with some knowledge regarding witches’ power.” The red-haired witch led the group to the north and said, “Since the awakening stage, witches are facing the trouble of the magic power bites. The church used to call it the Demonic Torture. However, it’s actually a natural reaction due to the continual growth of magic power. You guys must have already known this point by now.”
Annie calmly nodded and said, “Yes, otherwise it would be difficult to survive through adulthood.”
Amy raised her hand and added, “I heard about it from Broken Sword.”
Broken Sword said with a little embarrassment, “I used my powers quite frequently at the time when I wandered in the wilderness. I was just randomly guessing though.”
Wendy exclaimed with a sigh. “The Witch Cooperation Association said the same words too. It’s a blessing that we all made it through. Once we’ve stepped into adulthood, the original power of the witch will be solidified and a witch might even develop a derivative skill. The specific symptom is that the magic swirl in her body will expand and becomes distinct.”
“What’s that?” Amy asked in curiosity.
“Something that every witch has, it’s like an air current that never ceases to stop swirling.” Wendy patted the young girl’s head lovingly. “Only a few witches are able to observe them. It’s the exact form of the magic power, the specifics of its form determine the type of magic power.”
“Is, Is that so?” Amy asked in astonishment.
Wendy smiled and said, “Wait until the day to test your magic power. These are all the items that need to be recorded. By that time, you’ll know the look of the magic swirl inside your body.”
No. 76 could not help but frown, thinking, “Has this kind of knowledge about the survival of witches become a secret? What did Starfall City do? The
more witches survive, the more ingredients they’ll have to establish the God’s Punishment Army. Why did they block information like this?”
“Or perhaps, in these 400 years, the witches of Starfall City deviated from the will of Lady Alice?”
Wendy continued to explain, “However, the day of adulthood isn’t the end of a witch’s magical power. Besides the consolidation of power, there’s even the evolution of power. There are no limits on the number of times a power can evolve. It’ll not be confined to the original power either. As long as a witch continues to strengthen her understanding of herself and magic power, her ability will continue to evolve.”
“Really?” Amy exclaimed in excitement. “Someone like me could evolve too?”
“Of course. As long as you study hard.” With these words, Wendy took out a thin silver plate with a red crystal embedded in it and said, “Come to me, I want to introduce a new sister to you all.”
No. 76 could not believe what she saw. “That’s… The Sigil of Listening?”
Her pupils contracted all the sudden. “How can a wild witch organization own the heritage of the Holy City of Taquila ?”
“No… they would have such a chance. They might find a couple of remaining Sigils of Listening from the scattered ruins of the kingdom. This equipment was usually distributed to Blessed Warriors. I remember… the Quest Society never made such crude Sigils of Listening.”
“Yes, it looks like an incomplete sigil. Like a temporary test target made by some unknown witch.”
As soon as the red-haired witch finished her sentence, the silhouette in the sky rushed down and perched on her head.
It turned out to be a lovely blonde girl and a fat white pigeon which No.76 thought must be the girl’s pet.
The group still stood agape as they were shocked by the speaking crystal.
“Hello, everyone.” The young girl showed a bright smile. “My name is Lightning, the greatest adventurer of Neverwinter!”
“I’m Maggie! Coo-Coo!” Pigeon said and spread its wings.
“Gosh, the bird is talking!” Amy widened her eyes.
“They’re witches,” Annie said calmly, “The power is most likely related to changing the body shape.”
“You guessed right.” Wendy stretched her arm to allow the Pigeon to rest on it. “She’s a sister of ours that went through the evolution of power.”
“So it’s not a pet…” No. 76 blanked out for a moment. “Wait, what did she say? That pigeon called Maggie is a Senior Witch?”
She stared at the pigeon. It rubbed Wendy’s cheek amiably and spread its wings and lifted its head up when being introduced to the group. It seemed to be presenting its strength by doing so. She could not help but wonder, “Is, is it really a Senior Witch?”
“Back in Taquila , she would be able to join the upper class of the Union and become one of the rulers of the Holy City!”
“I should show respect to every Senior Witch. It’s an unbreakable rule of the Union, but…”
No. 76 felt something cracked in her heart.