[ Time Skip — 1 Month ]
I was looking at the same woman from my dreams.
For more than twenty times now.
It was as if someone wanted me to see something. To understand something. To feel something.
This time, I was looking at her child form.
If this was her past, then it was truly disturbing.
A girl who had been sitting on the lap of a witch when she was born. Her first breath taken in the arms of calamity itself.
While her parents lay dead beside her. Not just them. The entire village was gone. Reduced to nothing but corpses and ash.
Then when she was raised in an orphanage, everyone including the headmistress considered her cursed.
They called her the Daughter of the Witch of Calamity.
She wasn't in that orphanage out of kindness. She was there because the king didn't want her roaming around freely. Didn't want the cursed child spreading her misfortune.
So in short, she was locked away. Imprisoned behind walls of fear and superstition.
