Until a Witch Dies – Meg Raspberry’s One Year Left to Live

Grandma Flare led me deep into the forest at the back of the natural park.

We stood before the largest tree in town.

“Here we are.”

“So this is your special place?”

“Yes. This is the guardian spirit of the town.”

Grandma Flare looked up at the great tree with a joyful smile.

I had been to this place a few times before.

Every year, as the weather warmed, countless flowers would bloom here.

The reason for that was this tree.

The great tree stabilized the flow of magic in the earth’s ley lines, granting power to the surrounding plants.

Because of that, every year, this natural park was filled with magnificent flowers.

Calling it a guardian spirit, as Grandma Flare had, wasn’t entirely inaccurate.

“Since I was little, I’ve always spent time with this tree. The moments I played with friends, the time I spent with my family, and even now, being here with you, Meg. This tree has watched over it all.”

With affection, as if speaking to an old friend, Grandma Flare gently touched the tree.

“You’ve been together all this time.”

“Yes, ever since I was little.”

Following her lead, I also reached out and touched the tree.

“Ah…”

“What is it?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

There was a slight disturbance in the magic flowing through the tree.

It was absorbing far more magic from the ley lines than an ordinary plant would.

If this continued, the tree wouldn’t last much longer.

It would either wither from an oversaturation of power or be cut down before it disrupted the ecosystem.

I knew well that it couldn’t be saved.

I touched plants every day—I understood these things instinctively.

Perhaps this was fate.

—Fate exists. And when it comes, it brings the shroud of death with it.

Ah… it’s the same.

This tree and Grandma Flare.

Neither can be saved anymore.

Perhaps that’s what it means to be shrouded by death.

What can I do?

“Grandma Flare.”

“Yes, dear?”

“If… just hypothetically, if the world were to end tomorrow, and you knew you were going to die, what would you want to do for your final day?”

“Oh my, what an unusual question. But let me see… If it were my last day, I would want to spend it with my family.”

“I see…”

The next morning.

Before the sun had even risen, I woke up quietly, slipping out of bed without disturbing Grandma Flare.

For me, waking up this early was nothing out of the ordinary.

As I stepped outside, the biting cold air wrapped around me.

My breath was white against the morning chill, and I could feel the cold nipping at my nose.

As I inhaled, the sharp air filled my lungs, chilling me from the inside.

Atop the gatepost, a white owl was waiting for me.

I gave it a small nod.

Carbuncle remained inside, sleeping alongside Grandma Flare.

Today, it would stay home.

“Let’s go.”

“Hoo.”

As I extended my hand, the white owl leaped onto it.

I stroked its head gently, and it closed its eyes in pleasure.

Then, I began chanting the Twelve-Verse Incantation.

“O my kin, answer my call. Unleash your inner strength, soar across the vast ocean of the sky. My wish lies in the distant land, and I grant you the power to reach it. As a messenger of the heavens, cut through the skies, carry the winds, and with my life, fulfill this purpose.”

With a sweeping motion, I flung the white owl into the air.

At the same moment, I dashed forward, climbing onto the gatepost in a single bound, then leaped high into the sky without losing momentum.

“Fly.”

Something massive scooped me up midair.

My vision rapidly climbed higher.

Winds far stronger than before rushed through my hair.

Cold air stung my cheeks, numbing my fingertips.

Yet the soft feathers surrounding me eased the chill.

A gigantic white owl was carrying me through the sky.

This owl was large enough to carry two or three people with ease.

And now, with me on its back, it soared higher and higher.

Witches and sorcerers share a special contract with their familiars.

Through this bond, the familiar can respond to its master’s magic.

With my spell, the white owl had expanded its size nearly tenfold.

“Let’s go. Our destination is the Central City!”

“Hoo!”

I already knew where to go—I had researched it beforehand.

The address from the letters at Grandma Flare’s house.

They should still be there.

Cutting through the sky, we flew toward Central City, Rondo.

The streets were still quiet in the early morning.

The silence sharpened the crisp air.

Our destination was a brick house.

It had a grand red roof, adorned with beautiful decorations.

I knocked on the window.

After a moment, the curtain shifted, and a little girl peeked out.

She looked about five or six years old.

Our eyes met, and I smiled, waving at her.

She blinked in surprise, then quickly opened the window.

“Whoa! Amazing! It’s huge!”

Her reaction was understandable.

After all, I was sitting atop a white owl bigger than the house itself.

“Good morning, young lady.”

“Who are you, big sister?”

“I’m a witch. A friend of your grandmother’s. Is your father home?”

“Yeah, he’s sleeping with Mom. Daddy! The witch lady is here!”

The girl disappeared inside, and soon, a drowsy couple emerged.

It was Ed, Grandma Flare’s son, and his wife.

Ed shivered against the cold air flowing in from the open window, then blinked in surprise when he saw me.

“Meg? What are you doing here so early?”

“It’s been a while. But let’s get straight to the point. You’re taking the day off from work today.”

“Huh?”

Father and daughter looked at me, dumbfounded.

I simply smiled at them.

“Take the day off.”