“Pardon our intrusion.”

February 12th, 981 after the death of The Hero.

On this day, when afternoon began to take over, Malin and Enfir set foot in Helena’s cottage for the first time. The floor beneath them creaked, and all Pierrot could do was listen and watch as both of them welcomed their own presence into this humble abode.

Malin looked around–he didn’t hide the fact. From one corner to another, his eyes darted like an arrow looking for its target. The moment it was let loose from the bow was when he broke the silence.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to look around, but this place looks exceptionally clean. I can see why one would let go of the outside world for this cozy residence.”

His words sounded genuine which elated Pierrot as the one who had maintained this place’s cleanliness. But remembering the person he was confronting right now, he dismissed that thought right away. He dodged before the arrow grazed his skin.

“Thank you.”

Malin realized Pierrot didn’t want to entertain his rambling. He wasn’t annoyed, however. A grin crept onto his face, as if he was enjoying this exchange to the fullest. This made Pierrot shudder.

“May I sit down?” he asked, pointing at one of the wooden chairs.

“....Sure.”

“Thank you,” he replied like a merchant, sharp and cunning.

With one hand, Malin pulled a chair and sat down. A relieved groan escaped his mouth. Compared to him, Enfir had been quiet. Let alone a single word, he hadn’t made any noise besides the shuffling of his robe and his well-paced footsteps. Even those sounds were almost inaudible if it hadn’t been because of how quiet this cottage was. He was standing close to Malin, just within one arm's reach behind his leader. That sight of the looming shadow that was too close for his comfort.

“You don’t have to pay him any attention. In fact, just treat him as if he didn’t exist. I’m sure he doesn’t mind,” Malin said before looking at Enfir. “Can you step back a little? You’re scaring Sir Pierrot.”

“That’s fine. I’m not–”

“Nah, he listens to me, so it’s okay. Besides, I insist.”

Without uttering an answer, Erfin let his action do the job–stepping back in one move, now farther than Pierrot. Still, Pierrot had a hunch that Enfir could jump on him within a second if Malin had instructed him to do that.

Just with these two men’s arrival, the atmosphere inside the cottage had changed. Pierrot found that to be both amusing and concerning, with heavy emphasis on the latter.

So far, he couldn’t help but feel Malin had everything wrapped in his arm. Despite it being another person’s abode, he was so relaxed. This unfamiliar situation didn’t faze him at all, posing a tough challenge for Pierrot whose head was still riddled with questions.

Getting swayed by his tempo would be dangerous, and no one knew that better than Pierrot.

“So what do you want to talk about?” Pierrot asked.

“Why don’t you sit first, and then we can discuss?” Malin gestured at the seat opposite him.

Pierrot felt his eyebrows twitch. The way Malin expressed it struck a nerve, and all of his muscles–from top to bottom–suddenly tensed up in a way he didn’t know was possible before. To be welcomed into his own (temporary) house felt more like an insult than anything else. It was unpleasant sounding.

Pierrot didn’t know why. He couldn’t describe this sensation using mere arrays of words. He just felt it. He knew he eyes kept twitching whenever he head Malin’s words. And considering the half-playful and half-serious tone conveyed by the Witch Hunter, it could only mean one thing.

He is testing me.

Malin was testing him.

….This wouldn’t be a simple conversation, it seems.

The thoughts that all were too jumbled inside his head almost muddled his common sense. Peering into him, Malin had set his eyes on the vulnerabilities that were visible across Pierrot’s body and psyche.

Calm yourself, Pierrot.

Breathing in.

Breathing out.

Inhale and exhale.

All he could do now was to stay calm before he fell and danced to the tune coming out of Malin’s mouth.

One more time, inhale and exhale.

Then he narrowed his eyes–the fog covering his eyes began to dissipate.

“Before that, let me get you something to drink,” Pierrot said.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.”

“It’s okay. It will take less than a minute.”

“Please, you don’t have to. I have intruded on your precious time, so–”

“It’s okay. I insist.”

If the moment came forth, of course Pierrot would take it and swing back at him. Same as before, the look on Malin’s face was that of amused. Pierrot decided to ignore it and go as he had planned.

When he returned to the table, he already had a cup of water in his left hand, which he put on Malin’s side. At that moment, he felt a pair of eyes boring into his back. He knew where it came from. The impact between the cup and table made a loud thud, conveying the scream Pierrot had wanted to make in this moment.

And only after doing that when he sat down across from Malin.

They were looking eye to eye–one side was still smearing his face with a smile while the other couldn’t muster to lift the corners of his lips.

“Well,” Malin said before taking a sip. “Thank you for this. Now, may I know–”

“Sir Malin.”

Three times–that was how many times Pierrot had interrupted Malin mid-sentence. The entire time, he didn’t break eye contact. From his peripheral vision, he saw Enfir’s body twitch–probably getting agitated in the face of Pierrot’s demeanor. It was Malin who stopped him by raising his arm at him.

Pierrot then continued. “You haven’t answered my previous question. I’m under the impression that we’re engaging in a conversation, not some sort of interrogation. Or do you have any reason for ignoring my question?”

Malin shook his head. “Ignoring you wasn’t my intention, but still, I apologize. It seems I went ahead on my own and caused a misunderstanding between us. Still, I’m at fault. So, if it’s not too much to ask, can you repeat your question?”

“I asked your reason for coming here.”

“I’m looking for a Witch,” he answered. This time, he didn’t beat around the bush. “Certainly I don’t have to explain what it means, do I?”

“....No.”

Witches.

The root of all evil.

The existence caused by The Hero Klair–his first, last, and worst mistake, now known as The Fallen Hero, The Bringer of Misfortunes, The Sullen King, and more. His act of wrongdoing, the beginning of catastrophe in the Land of Cydonia, plummeted humanity from the Golden Era to the Void Era.

Witches.

Beings shrouded in mystery, like a mist blurring an endless pit of abyss where light couldn’t even pierce through, or the endless sea where the bottom was closer to the center of the world, basking in mist which led people astray. And throughout centuries, only two pieces of information had been discovered about Witches–

–The first Witch was The Hero Klair’s deceased daughter–

Her birth alone had brought The Great Calamity to this world. And when she awakened as a Witch, sufferings plagued the lands. It was her arrival into this world that began the Void Era–the Era of Darkness many centuries ago. Since then, many had awakened as Witches, played by the fate which cursed their very own existence. To many eyes, Witches had always symbolized tragedy.

And the second information would be–

“Sir Pierrot.”

Like a blitz of lightning caressing his skin, Pierrot jolted back to reality. His mind had been too muddled with the words uttered by Malin, the man who was looking for one of those tragedies inside this small cottage.

Compose yourself, Pierrot!

This wasn’t the time to be distracted by his own thoughts.

“Unfortunately, you won’t find a Witch here,” Pierrot said.

His declaration was simple and short–enough words he should spare to an enemy. But behind his calm mask was a frightened and anxious face, hoping that the entire time, Helena wouldn’t be returning soon. It was the reason why he spoke loudly, for the chance Helena would catch them talking. As far as he knew, this cottage wasn’t soundproof, so he would rather gamble on it rather than not trying at all.

“And thankfully, I don’t usually take words thrown at me at face value. Worry not. I plan to do this thoroughly, Sir Pierrot.”

Then again, Malin also had a counter for that.

“I believe this is my turn to ask then,” he said, adjusting his eyepatch. “Let me rephrase my words then. You live with a Witch, don’t you?”

This already worrying situation had become even more problematic.

What makes you think of that? Pierrot wanted to ask, but he couldn’t. He would be swallowing his own words if he asked another question now.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t.”

“Well, that answer is to be expected.” Malin didn’t seem surprised. “Go ahead. Ask your piece.”

That easy?

Pierrot found it strange that Malin hadn’t pressed on with his question, though he welcomed it with open arms. Pierrot knew what he should ask next.

“What makes you think that I live with a Witch?”

Hearing that question, Malin pressed his back against the chair, both arms crossed. Even when he was the one being questioned, he stayed relaxed, a fact that made Pierrot uncomfortable.

“Just a hunch….” Malin answered. “....Though I’m sure you won’t accept that answer. All I can say is that hiding inside the Whispering Forest seems like what a Witch would do, don’t you agree?”

Whispering Forest.

Based on the geographical landscape of Aethel Kingdom, and remembering Helena’s words–”We’re south of Aethel Kingdom, and a bit to the northwest from where I found you”–Pierrot had always been under suspicion that he was indeed within the notorious forest of Aethel Kingdom. Not to mention the strange sensation that had enveloped him when he entered the forest with Helena. And now, Malin’s reply just confirmed it.

His words also carried some weight. Often feared and deemed dangerous, Witches had no choice other than hiding themselves. Some who were good at it would live like ordinary citizens while suppressing their power completely, while those who couldn’t bear the terror of being found out would seclude themselves.

So it was no wonder that Malin asked something like that.

“And also….” Malin looked around. It was the moment Pierrot realized what the Witch Hunter had been doing. Using both eyes, he was observing this cottage–its inside out, probably, and soon came to a conclusion. “You live with someone though, right?”

Pierrot’s mouth was still shut.

“Ah, that isn’t one of my questions,” he said. “Hmm, let me see. Several rooms and a few cutlery enough for three–no, two people maybe? On the pathway outside, there are footprints of different sizes too. And these four chairs too? I don’t have to spell that out to you, do I?

“You live with another person, Sir Pierrot. And based on my intuition alone, I assume it’s a woman?”

Having only one arm would make planting all the flowers outside difficult, not to mention various types which made the color spread outside even more vibrant. He found it a bit of a stretch for a young man like Pierrot to be so meticulous about the arrangement, too.

That was his line of thought coming into this conclusion.

After all, the ones who could be–or were having their destiny doomed as Witches were female.

“So my question is…, Am I correct?”

Pierrot finally understood this chilling sensation that had been biting at his skin. The man before his eyes was unreadable. Malin’s mere presence froze everything inside the cottage, his indifferent expression told him that he had always controlled the situation, not the other way around.

It made his skin crawl in eeriness that he couldn’t completely comprehend.

At this point, he only had one card to play.

“....No.”

He lied.

Malin’s expression stayed unchanged. It was like looking at a one-way mirror–Malin peered into Pierrot easily while the other side was faced with his own worries. The latter couldn’t help but tense in his seat.

At last, after those grueling seconds had passed, Malin stood up. Once again, he fixed his eyepatch, now also pulling his collar until it suffocated him no more. He gestured at Enfir with his fingers.

“Let’s go.”

Huh?

“Our business here is finished. We will take our leave now.”

Despite Pierrot’s vulnerability, Malin decided to end his visit on an anticlimactic note. He could have easily pressed on further, adding more tension which weighted the air both around the cottage and inside Pierrot.

Pierrot was dumbfounded. Indeed, he couldn’t read the thoughts and actions that Malin would do.

He walked towards the front door before turning around. “Thank you for your time. You have been very helpful.”

“Wait,” Pierrot said. He also stood up.

On the other hand, Malin was just one move away from opening the door. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“....It’s my turn to ask.”

“Please be my guest.

“Are you going to leave me alone now?”

A direct question. Pierrot didn’t even know why he asked that, but he felt the necessity. He sought reassurance.

So these few seconds of silence in which he waited for an answer felt the longest so far.

“Yes,” Malin said.

A lie.

Similar to how Malin understood that Pierrot had lied, Pierrot also understood the lie uttered by him just now.

Though he couldn’t speak anything.

So….

“Okay….Good luck on your journey then.”

“You too, Sir Pierrot.”

And with that, Malin and Enfir left the cottage. Their figures disappeared as they entered the Whispering Forest once more, and only after that Pierrot could close the door in relief. He let out a loud sigh.

All he needed now was to sit down, but even his simple need was interrupted by a loud sound.

This time, it came from Helena’s room.

He became worried. The first thought that entered his mind would be Malin and Enfir, both sneaking into the cottage once more to do their deeds. If that were the case, Pierrot couldn’t stay down, even if that meant he had to breach a woman’s privacy.

So, with determined will, he walked towards the door and opened it.

The view that entered his eyes was one he hadn’t expected at all. If he had been asked to guess one hundred times, he wouldn’t have come to this answer.

“H-hi.”

The opened window caught his attention first, but what was on the floor stole it soon–or to be more accurate, who was on the floor.

It was Helena, laying flat with an embarrassed expression on her face.