Wandering Witch: Penance of a thief

Some secrets, no matter how deep we bury them, are never truly hidden.

They lie dormant in silence, waiting-just waiting-for the right moment to surface.

We might lock them away, believing we've secured them tightly, but sooner or later, the key will appear.

Or worse, someone will find it. Without warning, without our permission.

In a land called Aelcrest, a wandering witch appeared.

And as for that witch?

That's right—it's me!

When I first set foot in this country, I was a traveler with a singular goal: to find food.

Hunger led me to stumble upon a quaint little café nestled between cobblestone streets.

Its rustic sign creaked faintly in the breeze, beckoning weary wanderers like me.

Without hesitation, I stepped inside, the scent of baked goods pulling me in like a spell.

The café was cozy, with a warmth that seemed to hug you the moment you entered.

I found an empty seat by the window and soon enough, a maid approached with a tray.

She placed it gently on the table, her voice soft yet cheerful. "Please enjoy, miss."

I returned her smile, nodding politely. "Thank you."

The bread was warm, its aroma inviting, and the tea was fragrant.

Taking the first bite, I allowed myself to savor the subtle crunch of the crust and the softness within.

It was blissful, as if the bread had been kissed by magic.

Just as I was about to take another sip of tea, a voice startled me.

"Is it good, miss?"

A maid appeared behind me, her sudden presence causing me to jump slightly.

I quickly regained my composure, turning to her with a polite smile.

"Yes, it's wonderful. Thank you."

Her face lit up with pride. "We try our best, you know! This café used to compete with one of the most famous bakeries in the country."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Oh? I didn't know that."

She leaned closer, her voice dropping as if she were about to share a juicy secret.

"That bakery was legendary! Their bread was unlike anything you could imagine-so many varieties, each better than the last. I tried it once when I was a kid. It was... amazing!"

I chuckled softly, drawn in by her enthusiasm. "What happened to it?"

Her expression fell, her tone turning wistful. "It suddenly closed down. No one knows why."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Such a disappointment... People still talk about it sometimes, wondering what really happened."

"It closed?" I echoed, my brows furrowing in thought.

"How odd..."

The words lingered as my mind wandered, briefly considering the possible reasons behind the closure. A mystery left unsolved, like a door left ajar.

As I walked, the skies above Aelcrest suddenly darkened, heavy clouds rolling in as if the heavens were preparing for some grand performance.

Before I could react, the first fat drops of rain began to fall, quickly escalating into a torrential downpour.

"Great," I muttered under my breath, sighing in frustration. "Just my luck."

Of course, I hadn't thought to bring an umbrella. Who would, when the morning had been so deceptively sunny?

I scanned my surroundings, searching for any place that could shield me from the relentless rain.

My eyes landed on a small, cozy-looking house nearby.

Without hesitation, I sprinted toward its porch, the sound of my footsteps splashing against the wet stone echoing in the rain.

Panting slightly, I reached the shelter of the porch and leaned against the wall.

"Huff... So annoying," I grumbled, brushing stray raindrops off my sleeves.

Just then, the door creaked open, and an elderly woman stepped out.

Her kind eyes widened slightly in surprise as she spotted me.

"Oh dear, did you get caught in the rain?"

Startled by the sudden interaction, I straightened up.

"Ah, yes. It started so suddenly," I replied, offering an apologetic smile.

Her face softened with worry.

"Oh my, you'll catch a cold like this! Come inside, quickly."

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose," I said, though the warmth of her home looked incredibly inviting.

"Nonsense! Come in before you get drenched through." She gestured insistently, and I couldn't bring myself to refuse her kindness.

"Thank you so much," I said, stepping inside with a sense of relief as the rain continued to pelt the streets outside.

The interior of her house was as warm and welcoming as her demeanor-a rustic charm radiated from the neatly arranged furniture and the faint scent of herbal tea in the air.

"You must be freezing! I've already prepared some warm water in the bathroom. Go on, take a bath," she said with a smile, her concern evident.

Her offer caught me off guard. "Oh, no, I couldn't possibly-this is your home, and you've prepared it for yourself. You should take it."

She waved off my protests with a gentle laugh, her frail but firm hands grasping mine.

"Never mind that. You're the guest, and I can't let you catch a cold under my roof."

Before I could argue further, she guided me toward the bathroom with surprising determination.

"I don't want anyone falling sick, young one," she added warmly, her sincerity leaving no room for refusal.

Touched by her kindness, I finally relented. "Thank you," I murmured, feeling a mix of gratitude and guilt.

She'd put my comfort above her own without a second thought.

The grandmother nodded thoughtfully.

"Hm, I'll prepare some clothes for you."

I watched as she left, gently closing the bathroom door behind her.

With a relieved sigh, I began undressing and stepped into the warm water.

The heat was soothing, a stark contrast to the biting cold of the rain that still echoed faintly outside.

I let myself sink into the tub, the warmth wrapping around me like a comforting embrace.

My thoughts wandered to the grandmother's kindness-she had invited a stranger into her home without a second thought. Such selflessness was rare.

Time seemed to slip away as I soaked in the bath, the water washing away both the chill of the rain and the fatigue of my journey.

Once I felt fully relaxed, I stood up and quickly finished my bath.

That's when it hit me.

I didn't have a change of clothes.

Wrapping a towel tightly around myself, I debated my next move.

Should I ask to borrow some of the grandmother's clothes?

Before I could make up my mind, a gentle knock came from the door.

"Ah, are you finished?" her voice called out.

"Yes, thank you," I replied, a hint of relief in my tone.

The door creaked open slightly, and she handed me a folded t-shirt and a pair of pants. "Here, these should fit," she said with a smile.

"Thank you, uh..." I hesitated, suddenly realizing I didn't know her name.

She chuckled warmly. "We'll do the introductions later. For now, get dressed before you catch a chill."

I nodded sheepishly, accepting the clothes. "Sorry if this is troublesome. I appreciate it."

"Don't worry about it," she reassured me. "Though, these clothes are quite old... I hope you won't mind."

She led me to a small room to get changed. Her attentiveness and warmth made me smile-it was clear she genuinely cared.

Once inside, I unfolded the clothes, noting their simplicity.

As I put them on, I couldn't help but wonder how they fit so perfectly.

Did she just happen to have clothes in my size lying around?

When I was dressed, I made my way downstairs. The grandmother was already waiting in the living room, seated comfortably on a sofa.

Her eyes lit up when she saw me.

"You look good in that," she said with a kind smile.

"Thank you," I replied, glancing down at the borrowed outfit. "They fit perfectly."

She nodded. "Those belonged to my grandson, but he hasn't worn them in years."

That caught me off guard. "Oh, these were your grandson's?" I asked, a tinge of curiosity in my voice.

"I hope he doesn't mind me borrowing them."

The grandmother chuckled softly. "Don't worry. He wore those when he was about sixteen. He's an adult now, so I doubt he'll even notice."

"Sixteen?" I repeated, glancing down at the clothes.

A small smile crept onto my face as I chuckled. "Well, I guess that makes me safe from his wrath, then."

"Exactly," she said with a laugh. "Now, why don't you sit down?"

I nodded, taking a seat across from her. Her warm and easygoing demeanor made me feel right at home.

As I settled in, she tilted her head slightly, her expression expectant.

"Now then, let's introduce ourselves properly, shall we?"

"Um... my name is Elaina. Nice to meet you. I apologize for the trouble I caused," I said, bowing my head slightly.

The grandmother smiled warmly, her expression as soft as her voice. 

"My name is Rosalind, but you can call me Grandma Rosa. And don't worry, dear, you're not bothering me at all."

Her reassurance washed over me like a gentle wave. "Thank you," I murmured, feeling a sense of ease settle in. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Grandma Rosa."

She chuckled, her kind eyes studying me. "So, Elaina, did you just arrive in this country?"

I nodded, offering a small smile. "Yes, I arrived recently," I admitted. "I travel often, but this is my first time here."

"Hm, I see," Grandma Rosa said, nodding thoughtfully. "And have you found a place to stay yet?"

Her question made me pause. I shook my head with a small sigh. "Not yet. I was about to look for an inn."

Grandma Rosa's face lit up with an idea. "Then why not stay here?"

Her offer caught me off guard. My eyes widened slightly. "You... want me to stay here?" I asked, my voice tinged with surprise and hesitation.

"Of course! I'd love for you to stay here," she said with a warm smile that melted away my doubts.

"Are you sure?" I leaned forward, searching her expression for any trace of uncertainty.

"Absolutely," she said with conviction.

"I've always lived alone... and my grandson isn't here anymore." Her voice softened, her gaze distant for a brief moment.

Her next words made my heart skip a beat. "You remind me of him," she said gently, her tone filled with quiet fondness.

I blinked, taken aback by her explanation. Her words, so soft yet sincere, wrapped around me like a warm blanket.

"I... I'll stay," I said, a small smile forming on my lips. "If you'll have me."

Grandma Rosa's face lit up with joy as she reached out and clasped my hands in hers.

"That's wonderful! I've always wanted a granddaughter!" she said with a laugh, her happiness infectious.

Her grip tightened slightly as she added with a playful grin, "Oh, and if you feel bad about it, you can help me out around the house once in a while."

I nodded, a smile tugging at my lips.

"I'll help with whatever I can," I promised. "I don't mind at all."

A thought flickered in my mind, and I leaned in slightly. "May I ask... about your grandson?"

"Hm? Sure," Grandma Rosa replied with a curious smile. "What do you want to know?"

"You mentioned he reminds you of me," I began hesitantly. "Is he... similar to me in appearance?"

She chuckled softly, shaking her head.

"When it comes to looks, you two are nothing alike. And your personalities? Completely opposite."

Her answer left me both curious and slightly confused.

"Opposites, huh?" I murmured, more to myself than her, still trying to picture him. "What's he like, if you don't mind me asking?"

Grandma Rosa sighed, her tone affectionate but exasperated.

"He's stubborn, always bragging about himself, and constantly getting into dangerous situations."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "He sounds a bit cocky. Reminds me of... well, never mind," I said with a playful grin.

"But why did I remind you of him?"

"When you were standing on the porch earlier," she explained, her voice soft with nostalgia.

"I remembered him doing the same thing. He used to stand on the terrace, watching the rain and daydreaming."

"I often joined him, just sitting together and listening to the rain."

"That sounds... cozy," I murmured, the thought of such quiet moments filling me with warmth.

I hesitated before asking, my voice gentle. "Do you miss him?"

Her smile faltered, just for a moment, before softening into something unreadable.

"Every day," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her gaze drifted toward the window, the rain tapping softly against the glass.

It felt as though she were searching for someone just beyond the storm, and I couldn't help but wonder-was he truly gone, or simply elsewhere?

Sensing the heaviness of the moment, Grandma Rosa straightened up with a cheerful clap of her hands.

"It seems like the atmosphere's getting a bit too serious, huh? How about we lighten the mood with some food?"

I blinked, surprised by her sudden change in tone, but nodded eagerly.

"That sounds perfect."

"Can you help me, Elaina?" she asked, already making her way toward the kitchen.

I chuckled softly, rising to my feet. "Of course. I'm happy to help."

Trailing after her, I entered the kitchen where she began pulling out ingredients.

"Even though I'm old, I'm still pretty good at cooking!" she boasted with a sly grin. "Though I do get the occasional back pain..."

I laughed at her playful tone, her words reminding me of similar jokes I'd heard before.

"Then I'll be your extra pair of hands," I quipped, rolling up my sleeves with genuine enthusiasm.

Grandma Rosa laughed warmly.

"With you helping, we're bound to make something delicious!"

And so, the mood lightened as we prepared to cook together, the kitchen filling with the warmth of her kindness and laughter.

We cooked together, and to my surprise, Grandma Rosa turned out to be incredibly skilled in the kitchen.

Her clear instructions made the process smooth and enjoyable.

Despite the simplicity of the ingredients, the resulting dish was nothing short of amazing.

"This is... incredible," I murmured, genuinely in awe as I took another bite, savoring the flavors that danced on my tongue.

Grandma Rosa chuckled at my reaction, her expression a mix of pride and warmth.

"Thank you. Cooking has always been my talent. Back in the day, I loved making meals for my children and husband."

"That explains it," I said with a smile, glancing at her. "You're an excellent cook."

Her nostalgic tone didn't go unnoticed, and I found myself curious.

"Do you often cook for your grandson too?" I asked softly.

A fond smile spread across her face.

"Yes, and it seems he's inherited my talent," she replied.

Hearing that, I couldn't help but smile, the image of a younger boy learning from her crossing my mind.

"You must be proud," I said, genuinely meaning it.

The meal filled not just my stomach but also my heart, the warmth of her care evident in every bite.

As we finished, the rain had ceased, and the fading sunlight filtered through the window.

The sight of the clearing sky made me realize how quickly time had passed.

"Time sure flies," I murmured, gazing outside, my thoughts momentarily drifting.

Grandma Rosa's voice brought me back.

"You should go organize your things in your room. I've already placed your bag there."

Her reminder made me nod with a grateful smile.

"Thank you. I'll go do that now," I replied, rising from my seat.

Before leaving the dining area, I glanced back at the table and then at her.

"Would you like me to help tidy up the kitchen first?"

She let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head with a playful smile.

"Hm... If I do it myself, my back might give out. But you can help tidy it up after you've organized your things."

I laughed lightly at her humor and nodded. "Of course. I'll come back after I'm done."

With that, I made my way to the room she had prepared for me. As I opened the door, my eyes landed on my bag neatly placed on the floor.

As I scanned the room, my eyes landed on a bookshelf tucked neatly in the corner.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I approached it, pulling out a few titles:

"How to Be a Cheerful Person?"

"1001 Funny Jokes That Will Make Your Friends Laugh"

"Chat Material for Meeting New People"

"How to Make Friends"

I couldn't help but chuckle softly as I read the titles, one by one.

"These books..." I murmured, tracing my fingers along the spines.

"Grandma Rosa's grandson sure had some interesting tastes."

Shaking my head with a small smile, I moved on to organize my belongings. As I opened the wardrobe, I froze for a moment.

Men's clothes filled the space-shirts, trousers, even a few jackets.

"Men's clothes?" I whispered under my breath, tilting my head.

It didn't take long to connect the dots.

"This must have been Grandma Rosa's grandson's room," I concluded quietly, carefully closing the wardrobe.

I continued tidying up, making sure not to disturb the quietness of the house.

Once done, I made my way downstairs, where I found Grandma Rosa fast asleep on the sofa, her breathing soft and peaceful.

A small smile tugged at my lips as I tiptoed toward the kitchen.

"She must have been tired," I murmured.

After tidying up the kitchen as promised, I heard a soft yawn behind me.

I turned to see Grandma Rosa stirring awake, her eyes falling on the now-clean kitchen.

"Oh? You tidied up the kitchen?" she asked, her voice tinged with surprise.

I nodded with a warm smile. "Yes, I said I would. I hope I didn't disturb your rest."

She waved her hand dismissively, approaching me with a gentle look.

"Don't worry, child. At my age, I tend to doze off unexpectedly."

Her question came next. "So, have you finished organizing your things?"

"Yes," I replied with a slight smile. "It didn't take long."

She nodded in approval, her hand lightly stroking my head. "That's good, dear."

Then, stifling another yawn, she turned toward the stairs. "I think I'll head back to my room. I'm still feeling a bit sleepy. Good night, Elaina."

"Good night, Grandma Rosa," I said softly, watching her climb the stairs.

I lingered in the living room for a while, gazing out the window into the dark night.

Eventually, a yawn escaped me as well, reminding me of my own exhaustion.

I made my way back to my room and collapsed onto the bed.

The comfort of the mattress and blankets immediately enveloped me, and sleep claimed me before I even realized it.

The gentle rays of the morning sun peeked through the window, coaxing me awake.

I stretched, pushing open the curtains to let in more light. Sliding the window open, I took a deep breath of the crisp morning air.

After freshening up in the bathroom, I wandered into the kitchen. My eyes landed on the ingredients Grandma Rosa had laid out.

A thought crossed my mind.

"Maybe I should prepare breakfast today..." I murmured, tilting my head.

I pondered for a moment, glancing at the ingredients. "Something light would be better, considering her age," I mused aloud.

With that decision, I rolled up my sleeves and began to think of what I could prepare.

I gathered the ingredients with care, determined to cook breakfast.

As I stood over the stove, I observed my work, a mix of satisfaction and anticipation.

The food wasn't as good as Grandma Rosa's, but I had put my heart into it.

A small, fond smile tugged at my lips as I stared at the dish. My thoughts lingered for a moment, a touch of doubt creeping in.

"I hope she likes it," I murmured softly, feeling a flicker of insecurity.

Just as I was about to serve the dish, I heard footsteps behind me.

Grandma Rosa came downstairs, and her eyes widened when she saw me cooking.

"Oh? You cooked breakfast? You didn't have to do that, you know?" she said with surprise in her voice.

I turned to face her, offering a small smile. "It's okay. I wanted to," I replied, brushing off her concern with a casual shrug.

She smiled warmly at me. "Thank you, you're so kind, Witchie."

The nickname caught me off guard. My heart skipped a beat, and a wave of surprise washed over me.

"Witchie?" I asked, my voice uncertain, as I blinked at her.

She chuckled softly, clearly amused by my reaction. "Doesn't that sound cute?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded, managing a smile as I sat down opposite her. "Uh.. I guess" I said, still a bit taken aback.

Grandma Rosa then began to taste the breakfast I made. After a moment, she smiled warmly.

"Hm, this is delicious! You'll make a great wife in the future, Elaina."

I blushed at her words, a soft warmth spreading across my cheeks.

The compliment took me by surprise, and I felt a wave of happiness mixed with a little embarrassment.

"Thank you," I murmured, my voice softer now as I glanced at her.

I was happy that she liked it, but my face reddened just a little. "I'm glad you like it," I said, my voice tinged with shyness.

Grandma Rosa gave me a gentle smile, but then her tone became more serious as she continued.

"But, if you add a little salt and.." She giving me numerous suggestions on how to improve the dish.

"This will be even better, you know."

I nodded attentively, making sure to commit every word to memory.

"Okay... I'll remember that," I replied softly.

There was a brief pause before Grandma Rosa spoke again, her voice more thoughtful.

"Oh, by the way, I have a request for you..."

Her sudden change in tone caught me off guard, and I turned my full attention to her.

"A request? Yes, what kind of request?" I asked, now fully focused on her words.

"Can you buy flowers..." Grandma Rosa's voice trailed off for a moment, as if searching for the right words. Then, with a quiet resolve, she continued.

"And put them on the grave of someone precious to me?"

Her request was so unexpected, it took me by surprise.

I paused, processing her words, and felt a deep sense of empathy stir within me.

"I... understand," I murmured softly, my heart heavy with compassion for her loss.

"Of course," I said, nodding gently. "What kind of flowers would you like?"

"Iris flowers," she answered, her tone soft yet firm. "They sell them at the flower shop... if you don't mind, that is."

I nodded without hesitation, her request now clear in my mind. "Iris flowers. Alright. I don't mind at all."

Her smile was full of gratitude.

"Thank you, Elaina. I really appreciate it."

I returned her smile with one of my own, my voice soft as I replied, "You're welcome."

After breakfast, I said my goodbyes and left the house, feeling a mix of emotions as I set off to fulfill Grandma Rosa's request.

The walk to the flower shop was short, and soon I found myself holding a small bundle of irises in my hands.

The delicate petals seemed to shimmer in the soft light of the cloudy day.

With flowers in hand, I made my way towards the forest, the path becoming quieter as I ventured deeper.

The forest was alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, but there was a heavy stillness in the air that hinted at something more solemn.

As I approached a large banyan tree, its thick branches creating a canopy of shadows, I saw it-a small, weathered tomb beneath the tree.

The gravestone was cracked and worn, but it still held a name: Richard. The handwriting was rough, as if scrawled by a child.

I knelt beside the grave, the rain starting to fall softly around me.

I placed the irises carefully at the base of the tombstone.

"So this is the grave..." I whispered, my voice barely above the sound of the rain.

I bowed my head in respect, even though I had never met him. "Even though we've never met... I hope you rest in peace."

The sky darkened further as I stood, feeling the drizzle turning into a steady rain.

"Again...?" I sighed softly, wiping a stray raindrop from my cheek. The gloomy weather seemed to follow me wherever I went.

With a resigned sigh, I pulled out my broomstick and kicked off the ground, flying toward Grandma Rosa's house.

By the time I arrived, my clothes were soaked through, and the rain had yet to let up.

I landed in front of the house, and as I stepped down from my broomstick, I saw Grandma Rosa standing on the porch, gazing up at the rain.

"I hate rain..." she muttered, her voice distant.

I blinked in surprise. "Hmm?"

She glanced back at me, her eyes softening. "That's what my grandson always says," she said, a wistful smile on her lips. "Come inside, and change your clothes."

After I changed into dry clothes, I returned to the living room, where Grandma Rosa was now standing near the crackling fireplace.

The warmth of the fire was a comfort against the chill of the rain outside.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was appropriate to ask, but curiosity got the better of me.

"Does your grandson... go out frequently?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Grandma Rosa's smile softened as she looked at me.

"Hm... I think it's time I told you," she said gently. She stood up and walked over to the bookshelf, pulling down a thick, old book.

She settled beside me on the sofa, the book resting in her lap.

"Would you like to hear a story, Elaina?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of nostalgia.

I nodded, intrigued by the promise of a story. "Yes, please," I replied softly, my eyes fixed on the book she held in her hands.

And with that, she began to open the book, her voice becoming a gentle rhythm as she started to tell me the story.