TALES OF A WITCHER - Season 8 Episode 5

“You can come out now.” Agatha looked at the empty corner of the room.

After she spoke, there was a faint shadow on the wall. Nightingale then came out of nowhere and blocked the dim candlelight.

“When did you discover me?” She sounded a bit surprised.

“When I took the ring from No. 76,” Agatha said as she shrugged her shoulders and raised the jug, “would you like a cup?”

“If it’s your treat.” Nightingale sat down opposite the Ice Witch and said, “Can that magic stone sense magic power?”

“It’s not magic power but an orange light beam, or perhaps I should say… the ‘key’.” She took out an empty cup, filled it readily and pushed it to Nightingale. “Your beam lit up half a room. It was hard not to notice it.”

“Did she notice that too?”

“Most likely,” Agatha nodded. “She didn’t mind revealing her identity in front of her own kind.”

“She and I aren’t the same, just like Pure Witch and I aren’t the same,” said Nightingale, “did you believe what she said?”

“Yes, I did.”

“But you didn’t take her ring.”

“Because I really want to help her and get her on the right path.” Agatha also poured herself a glass of ale and then drank it all—the quality of the drink was rather poor, a far cry from Evelyn’s fruity liquor and the strange-tasting Chaos Drinks. In spite of this, the sour bitterness still could not suppress her pleasure.

Agatha was elated.

At the very moment when No. 76 revealed her identity, the recurring sense of loneliness disappeared from her heart. It turned out that she was not the last survivor of Taquila, and there were other witches like her from the Union who had come to this era after crossing a time span of more than 400 years.

Although most of the Witch Union members were very friendly, and Wendy was very affectionate toward her, Agatha constantly felt lost—she knew there was a gap between her and the other witches caused by the accumulation of centuries, which could not be erased in a short time. She could not confide to the witches in this new era, so she tried to numb herself by burying herself in work.

The only exception was Roland Wimbledon. She felt a sense of comfort when she was alone with this weird common person. At first, she found it hard to understand. She realized later on that Roland had the same kind of undefinable estrangement as if he were out of touch with this world—the only difference was Roland hid it much better than her, and hardly anyone noticed it.

Finally, she was no longer alone.

It was for this reason that Agatha hoped No. 76 would make a request to visit Roland Wimbledon in her official identity as a Taquila witch.

She looked forward to the both of them standing side by side in the Battle of Divine Will.

She was already in love with the life here at Neverwinter, and naturally, she hoped that her own kind would feel the same way about this place.

Furthermore, Agatha had a small hidden desire.

She wanted to prove to the witches that what she had said was wise and correct—co-operation between the common people and witches was the best way to fight the demons.

“This was why you neglected her deliberately?” Nightingale looked perplexed, as this was the first time she saw Agatha’s real thoughts.

“No. 76 will understand after she’s been here for some time.” Agatha curled her lips. “Wasn’t I the same?”

This batch of survivors did not think of liking the church… They did not agree with the plan of the God’s Punishment Army and were reluctant to use the witches as sacrificial materials. They even split up with Lady Alice over this. This was one reason why she decided to help them.

Afterwards, Nightingale was silent for a long time. Only when the rocking candle was burnt to its bottom, did she gradually disappear and return to the darkness. “I hope she will make the right choice.”

“She will,” Agatha smiled and said, “I believe that.”

*******************

No. 76 went back along the same path to the Foreign Affairs Building, where she bumped into Anna and the others, who had finished visiting the beverage plant.

“I woke up and felt much better,” she said voluntarily before anyone had the chance to ask. “It was a bit stuffy in the room, so I took a walk in the yard.”

“You should put more clothes on so that you won’t catch a cold,” said Broken Sword with concern.

Amy held her hand and said happily, “It’s a shame you didn’t come with us this afternoon! The Chaos Drinks made by Miss Evelyn were simply out of this world!”

“Chaos… Drinks?”

“Yeah, initially she could only change the taste of the drink. But after her ability evolved, she started to create delicious drinks that had unique tastes. I swear even the nobility in Wolfheart City would not have tasted something so amazing.” Amy said excitedly, “Whether it was black tea, honey milk or fine wines, they would not be worth mentioning compared to her drinks.”

Another Senior Witch… No. 76 had become numb. Although it was unclear what Wendy and Nana meant specifically by learning, there was no doubt that in the training of witches, the Witch Union was already more advanced than the Union. According to Agatha, it seemed that all of these were started by Roland Wimbledon, a mere common person, and that was what she could not understand.

Did common people understand magic power more than witches?

“I can testify,” Hero echoed. “For a moment, I even thought that all the tribulations I suffered before had been worthwhile.”

“If I could have such a drink occasionally, I’d never leave Neverwinter!” Amy stuck out her tongue.

“Then we should join the Witch Union,” Broken Sword suddenly said, “as long as we’re staying here, there’s always the opportunity to drink it again, right?”

“I agree!” Amy immediately raised her hand.

“Yes… Me too.” Hero nodded earnestly.

The three looked at Annie, so she said reluctantly, “I’ll listen to you.”

“Wait… You guys agreed to stay here just for a strange drink?” No. 76 could not help but feel startled. “And Annie, didn’t you say that we had to observe carefully and be cautious? We should at least decide after tomorrow’s tour. If Wendy heard the reason that prompted them to make up their mind, she would certainly not know whether to laugh or cry.”

All of a sudden, she felt envious.

Simple requirements and easy decisions. As long as there was a glimmer of hope, they could move forward without hesitation.

What about herself?

…

After everyone had fallen asleep, No. 76 quietly left her room again and climbed on the roof.

Against the howling wind and snow, she raised her ring in the direction of the castle, and narrowed her eyes to see afar—a light beam as wide as the city wall appeared again in front of her eyes. It still miraculously appeared in her field of vision, even without the activation of magic power and being out of the theoretical detection range.

She needed to find the chosen one for the Taquila witches. This was the main purpose of this trip.

Anyway, the chosen one’s significance to the survivors and the meaning of the Chaos Drinks for Amy and the others was almost the same.

She made her decision.

…

When Wendy came to the Foreign Affairs Building the next day, No. 76 handed her a letter that she had written overnight.

“I am Phyllis, the Taquila witch from the Maze of Desperation. I have brought news of the Providence and the savior. I would like to request an audience to see the Lord of Neverwinter, to discuss our co-operation in the Battle of Divine Will.” She did not avoid the Kingdom of Wolfheart’s witch but solemnly said so in front of everyone.

Amy and the others opened their eyes wide in disbelief as if they had heard something incredulous.

“No. 76… what’re you talking about?”

“You’re a witch, too? That’s great!”

“Phyllis… is that your real name?”

The three of them each responded differently, only Annie was silent.

Wendy did not seem surprised and did not report this situation to the castle. Instead, she received the document and smiled at her encouragingly. “Come with me, His Majesty is already waiting for you in his study.”