The Cornflower Witch

After returning to the Asra District, Sylutia once again visited her former instructor and caught up with her classmates over a meal. The dress she would wear for the Silver Bell Festival was also nearly finished.

These past two days had suddenly become quite leisurely. Sylutia stood atop a sightseeing tower in the Asra District, gazing down at the city from afar.

There was no rush for academic work, and the Hidden Grove's mission was still far off. She had been diligently taking care of everything she needed to do in her daily life.

Thanks to two consecutive clear days, much of the snow in the Asra District had melted. Against the blue sky, the various buildings revealed bright, vivid colors, adding a touch of comforting vibrancy to this winter.

She leaned lightly against the rough, grainy stone wall, her eyes slightly closed, feeling the wind brush through her hair and past her ears. Her heart was at peace.

And so, Sylutia spent the entire afternoon on that tower, watching the scenery until the evening clouds painted the sky. Only then did she press one hand against the brim of her sun hat, lift the hem of her skirt with the other, and descend the stairs with light steps.

But as she stepped down from the tower, standing on the land bathed in the sunset's glow, there was a youth who had been waiting for her for some time. He had healthy, wheat-colored skin, and short hair as coarse and stubborn as the wheat in the fields.

"You're Hedra, right?" He raised an unsharpened wooden sword, pointing it at the girl. His arm was stretched out perfectly straight, as if tempered through a thousand trials.

"I am."