(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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Witch Queen turned and began walking down the private corridor that led away from the public halls —
A path forbidden to all others.
The closer she drew to her chambers,
The more the red glow of the palace dimmed,
Replaced by a softer, warmer hue that almost felt… personal.
She stopped before a tall,
Rune-etched door and lifted her hand.
The air around her shimmered as her grimoire floated open,
Pages fluttering until one glowed with intricate, crimson script.
"Erase illusion,"
She whispered.
The blood sigils across the door pulsed once —
Then slowly dissolved.
The door unlocked with a soft click.
Click~
As she stepped inside and closed it behind her,
The transformation was immediate.
Gone was the cold, imperial grandeur of the room.
Her private chambers were a world of contrasts —
Intimate, warm, and shockingly personal.
The walls were lined not with relics or spellbooks,
But with handwoven charms and silken tapestries.
The air was perfumed with lavender and faint traces of mana-scented incense.
But what stood out most…
…were the plush toys.
Dozens of them.
All of one subject.
Ben.
There was a small one seated on a vanity —
His likeness rendered in tiny, meticulous stitches, down to his signature smirk.
Another lay on a cushioned chair by the window,
Wearing a miniature royal cloak.
A few hung from strings near the shelves,
Gently swaying with the faintest motion of air.
And then, on her bed, surrounded by crimson silk pillows and golden runes that glowed faintly with warmth —
Rested a life-sized plush of Ben himself.
Handwoven, detailed down to the fall of his hair and the curve of his smile.
The Witch Queen exhaled softly, walking toward it.
Her fingers trailed across the doll's cheek,
Lingering there for a heartbeat too long.
"…So predictable,"
She murmured to herself, her smirk fading into something softer.
Smirk~
"The boy walks into my domain without fear… and yet he doesn't see the strings he's already tugging."
She sat on the edge of the bed, the silken sheets whispering under her movement.
The candlelight painted her face in gold and red —
And for a rare moment,
Her expression was unreadable,
Torn between fascination and irritation.
"He reeks of something…"
She muttered, her golden eyes narrowing.
"...."
Her fingers brushed the plush's chest —
Where, over the heart,
She'd embroidered a tiny red thread,
Glowing faintly with enchantment.
"Tell me, King of Clover…"
She whispered, leaning close, her breath brushing the doll's ear.
"What really run's in your mind?"
The raven perched upon her vanity gave a soft caw,
Its head tilted, as though in quiet judgment.
The Witch Queen's smirk returned.
Smirk~
"Curious enough not to kill you,"
She said, echoing his words with a hint of dark amusement.
Chuckle~
"Yes, perhaps. But only until I've had my answers."
With a flick of her hand,
Her grimoire snapped shut.
The room dimmed again —
The illusion she'd broken moments ago beginning to weave itself anew.
The soft shimmer of blood magic wrapped the chamber,
Erasing every trace of her secret collection as she whispered the incantation.
By the time the spell has been casted,
Her chambers looked once again like the regal lair of a queen —
Cold, empty, spotless.
"...."
Only the faintest scent of lavender remained.
And as she sat there,
Alone in the dim light,
The Witch Queen smiled to herself —
"...."
A slow, wicked, knowing smile.
"Let's see,"
She murmured,
"how long you are going to sooth my curiousity, Benjamin Salvador Kira."
The market of the Witch Forest was a spectacle unlike anything Ben had ever seen —
A riot of color, fragrance, and sound woven together.
Mana shimmered visibly in the air like golden dust motes,
Drifting between banners woven of spell-thread that fluttered despite the still air.
Stalls lined the winding paths,
Each one carved from enchanted wood,
Glowing faintly with runes that pulsed in rhythm with the heartbeat of the forest itself.
Everywhere he looked,
"...."
There was movement —
Witches of all ages bustling, bargaining, laughing.
Some wore masks shaped like beasts or Spirits,
Others painted their faces with glowing ink that shimmered under the sun light.
Children rode small enchanted brooms that bobbed above the cobblestones,
Trailing ribbons of mana smoke.
The scent of burnt cinnamon, honeywine, and herbs filled the air —
"...."
An intoxicating blend that made even Charlotte's usually composed expression soften as she looked around.
"Looks like Halloween back home,"
Ben murmured, watching a group of witches carve pumpkin-shaped mana fruits into glowing lanterns that floated midair.
Dorothy chuckled beside him, twirling her parasol.
Chuckle~
"What Halloween?.. It's the Festival of Renewal. Every spring, the witches celebrate the rebirth of life and mana after winter's slumber. It's half ritual, half chaos — my favorite combination."
Charlotte, walking on Ben's other side,
Glanced at a passing float made entirely of levitating crystal flowers.
"You said this happens every year?"
"Yes,"
Dorothy nodded, smiling wistfully.
Nod~
"It's one of the oldest traditions here — to honor the Cycle of Mana. Life, death, rebirth — it's all one spell, as the Queen used to say. But…"
Her smile dimmed slightly, eyes distant.
"…back then, it wasn't this… festive. The Queen's presence always loomed over everything — too much reverence, not enough joy. I guess since I left, they've learned how to have fun without fear."
Ben chuckled softly,
Chuckle~
Taking in the sight of a young witch trying to enchant a candy stand,
Only to accidentally animate all her treats into a chaotic parade of flying sweets.
A dozen kids immediately gave chase,
Laughing as glowing candies darted between stalls.
"Looks like your people figured it out,"
He said with a grin.
Grin~
Dorothy smirked.
Smirk~
"My people? Careful, Ben. I ran away from this place, remember?"
Charlotte shot her a knowing look.
"And yet, you still brought us straight to its heart."
Dorothy shrugged, her smile turning playful.
"What can I say? Some memories stick harder than curses."
They walked deeper into the market,
The streets narrowing into intimate lanes where glowing ribbons floated between stalls.
Music played —
Not with instruments,
But through spellcraft.
Runes shimmered midair,
Each one releasing soft notes of melody when touched by passing witches.
A vendor stopped them with a grin.
Grin~
"Ah! Foreigners! Care to try mana-glow cider? Brewed with pure forest essence!"
Before Ben could decline,
Dorothy was already handing him a small bottle, her eyes twinkling.
"Come on, King of Clover, live a little."
Ben eyed the glowing liquid, smirking.
Smirk~
"If I die, tell the Witch Queen she owes me a refund."
He took a cautious sip —
And to his surprise,
The drink burst with sweetness and heat,
Sending a rush of warmth through his chest,
His mana stirring slightly in response.
"That's… not bad."
Charlotte raised an eyebrow and took a sip from her own bottle.
"Not bad,"
She agreed softly,
Though her faint blush suggested it was stronger than it looked.
Dorothy laughed.
"Careful, that's brewed with moonroot and phoenix blossom. It doesn't get you drunk — it makes your mana sing."
They continued strolling through the market,
And Ben found himself relaxing despite the whispers and curious glances that followed him.
Some witches hid their faces, others giggled behind their hands.
Charlotte noticed and frowned slightly.
"They're all staring."
"Let them,"
Ben said easily, watching a fireworks spell burst above the market in spirals of green and silver.
"I'm starting to get used to it."
Dorothy glanced at him sideways, smirking.
Smirk~
"You should be careful with that confidence. Around here..."
Ben chuckled.
Chuckle~
"And what about the one who got invited?"
Dorothy tilted her head, feigning thought.
"Hmm… turned into a raven. Much less talkative, much more dramatic."
Charlotte tried —
And failed —
To hide a smile.
"Then I'd say you're doomed either way."
The three of them continued deeper into the glowing maze of the festival.
As laughter echoed and spells painted colors across the night sky,
Ben couldn't shake a subtle feeling crawling beneath the surface of all the joy —
The faint pressure of eyes watching from afar.
He glanced up.
"...."
On the highest balcony of her tower,
Hidden in shadow,
The Witch Queen stood with her arms crossed,
Teal eyes fixed on him through her mirror-raven's vision.
A quiet smile played across her lips.
Meanwhile...
The air around the booth shimmered faintly with mana-light as Ben leaned forward,
Eyes sharp and focused on the three wooden boxes set before him.
Each box glowed briefly as the witch running the stall infused them with a soft identification spell,
Revealing their contents for a heartbeat —
A small crystal, a coin, and a rune-stone —
Before snapping shut again.
The witch's hands moved fast.
Faster than most humans could track.
The boxes blurred,
Sliding and twisting across the table in a rhythm only the seasoned gamblers of the Witch Market could follow.
The crowd around the booth —
Mostly young witches in festival robes —
Laughed and cheered with every shuffle.
This wasn't just a test of sight,
It was a test of perception, intuition, and nerve.
Ben smirked, his gloved fingers tapping the table in sync with the movement.
Smirk~
He wasn't using mana —
That was the rule.
But he didn't need to.
His instincts, sharpened through battles and leadership, were keen enough.
When the witch finally stopped,
Her hands hovering theatrically over the boxes,
She smiled slyly.
"All right, outsider. Show us if your kingly eyes are worth their praise."
Ben glanced between the boxes, silent for a few seconds.
"...."
Then, without hesitation, he tapped the middle one.
"Crystal."
The witch blinked —
And lifted the lid.
The crystal gleamed.
Gasps and laughter rippled through the crowd.
"Lucky guess!"
Someone teased.
Ben only smiled.
"Luck favors those who watch carefully."
He moved his hand again, tapping the left box.
"Coin."
When the witch opened it —
Sure enough, the gold coin winked in the light.
Now the crowd murmured louder, curious and impressed.
Even the witch who ran the stall tilted her head, a faint,
Competitive smile tugging at her lips.
"Impressive. For a man, no less."
Ben arched an eyebrow.
"Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?"
Before she could answer,
A trio of witches approached through the onlookers —
Their presence causing a stir even among the locals.
They were older, clearly well-trained in mana control.
Their cloaks bore insignias of forest guardians,
A sign of rank within the Witch Queen's court.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Their eyes, sharp and intelligent, immediately fixed on Ben —
Measuring, calculating.
"Looks like we've got company,"
Charlotte murmured quietly, stepping a little closer to him.
Dorothy's smile faltered —
Just slightly.
"...."
Her usually lazy, dreamlike demeanor stiffened at the sight of the three women.
Her hand clenched around the handle of her parasol.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N)Thanks for reading the chapter!
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