Dailah, born and raised in the Nineteenth Village, a place mainly known for its dairy products. Normally she would've been destined to inherit her mother's business, lead a life dedicated to supplying retail stores in the city with milk jam - a very popular dessert among the citizens there. However, fate had smirked upon her negligible existence.

She was born with the ability to use magical power. She was a Witch.

Magic potential was usually inherited, however, there were cases like her's where an ordinary woman could birth a Witch, even if they couldn't wield it as well as their more 'pure-blooded' sisters. Regardless, just being a Witch was enough reason to elate, not just for the person herself, but her birthplace as well. There was always a high demand for Witches, even weaker ones like her.

For strong Witches, sorcery without any assistance was possible. But merely possessing magical powers already meant being able to use magical tools more effectively, better strength and reflexes, the ability to partake in certain types of experiments, and much more.

Officers from the big city would often travel around the numbered villages, both to promote the work Witches did for the common citizens, as well as look for potential candidates. Not only new Witches but talented people as well.

And that's how Dailah was found. For any girl living in the countryside, it was like a dream come true.

From the age of twelve, she began learning how to use and control the magic power flowing through her body. Naturally, there was no one in the village who could teach her, she could only receive a collection of materials and learn by herself.

An instructor would come twice or thrice a year to check her progress, give some directions and test her. If the progress was deemed to be good enough, she'd receive new materials and instructions for the next stage of her training. Naturally, the girl would still go to the local school with the other kids her age.

That kind of approach was reserved for low-level Witches who couldn't afford to go to a proper academy in the city, one that would teach magic alongside normal subjects. Had she been more powerful, she might've been able to apply for a scholarship.

Dailah continued such a lifestyle for 5 years until she reached the age of 17 and passed her final test. From there, she would go to the city and join the association, to continue her studies and start her work as a Witch properly.

That was the plan.

Dailah had only gone to the big city - Stone City - once, with her mother when she was a kid. Arriving there by train, she ends up completely lost. In fact, she had gotten off one station too early. The Second Village was located fairly close to Stone City. Many people who went there for the first time would often mistake it for one of its districts.

That wasn't all. Stone City had, in fact, three train stations spread throughout, as one station only wasn't enough to cover all of its area. You would need to get off on the correct one, otherwise risk having to walk a long way to your destination, or having to fork out money for a hamsom cab. It wasn't uncommon for country bumpkins like Dailah, who weren't used to the scale of such cities, to commit mistakes like that.

And this mistake would cost her dearly.

A lady, around her thirties, called out to Dailah and offered to give her a ride to town. How kind of her!

I was just getting ready part, do you mind coming with me? It'll be nice to have some company. How lucky! How convenient! She often heard people from big cities tended to be cold, but you can't just blindly trust rumors and gossip after all!

That's about what she managed to remember before it all went dark.

And now, she opens the door. Shovel in hand.

What greets her is a wooden run-down cabin, with two empty chairs. No one was there, or so it seemed.

She carefully looked around, checked both sides before stepping through the door frame. No one still, her tension rising all the while.

Did they really leave her there? Why? Perhaps they are just waiting in an ambush further ahead? What's even going on? Such doubts turned round and round in the girl's mind as she carefully made her way forward.

She then noticed her traveling bag laid out on one of the tables.

Dailah considered taking it with her. It only contained some clothes, a couple of books, some money and documents. Nothing worth risking her safety for. Still, at least her documents. They were light and could fit in her pockets. After all, getting them replaced was cumbersome.

Worrying about trifles like this despite her situation. It felt bizarre.

The documents consisted of membership papers for the Witch Association - or rather the Magic Association as they had changed the name recently - and an Identification Card that contained her citizen information.

Although most citizens had one of these IDs, only the ones belonging to certified Witches contained a photo. That was mainly due to the expensive process of imprinting an image onto paper. Dailah was quite shocked when she found out this was made with a tool, she firmly believed they had Witches with special abilities drawing them. Who knows, there might actually be some.

She looked at her card, a girl with wavy, blonde, shoulder-length hair stared back with semi-open eyes. She had a good face, or some people would tell her, whatever that meant.

One thing she always had a complex about was her height, she'd often get called a goblin by the others, mainly bullies from her childhood. Even now she barely broke through the 150 cm barrier. That probably negated whatever charm her "good face" secured herself.

For the first time in her life however, she was thankful for having a small body. If her arms weren't so thin, she might not have been able to slip her hand out of the cuffs. Not to mention she'd be able to hide herself better... probably... hopefully...

Looking around there were more rooms in the hut. Instead of checking them one by one, wasting more time and risk meeting her captors face-to-face, it would be better to just leave through the front door. Carefully, shovel in hand.

What greeted Dailah outside was a small village, not much different from her home, except this one was completely abandoned. It was dark, though it wasn't nighttime yet. Probably dawn or dusk, with a lot of fog.

It was also cold. She was wearing a plain, dark green, long-sleeved dress, and it wasn't enough to protect her against the temperature. The dry blood she could feel on her scalp didn't help either.

Maybe the color of the dress could at least make her harder to spot amongst the invasive plants and forest. Luckily, she was also wearing boots. They would help her walk through the muddy soil, the wreckage and the overgrown vegetation.

The girl proceeded, always trying to stay in the shadow of buildings. Rubble and decay dominating the landscape. Teared down doors, broken walls, plants sprouting out in the middle of the street and from within houses, the smell of stale water permeating through the air. Dailah could hear the rustling of leaves and insects singing. For the frightened girl, it all sounded like chants, cheering on for her demise. And she still had no clue where to go.

This town should be - or was - one of the numbered villages around Stone City, going by whatever semblance of identity remained amidst the rot, like her own hometown, minus the wither. Being a numbered town didn't mean it was close to the city, unfortunately. Not in terms of walking distance at least.

She was also afraid following the road out of here could lead to meeting her kidnappers. Walking through the forest wouldn't exactly be safe either.

Especially if there are creatures around.

*CAW* *CAW*

Among the echoes of the fog, a familiar call resonates in Dailah's ears. One which brought her both hope and despair.

She made her way to the cawing, finding exactly what she expected, stationed beside one of the dilapidated houses. A crowley.

Crowleys were, in essence, magical creatures with the form of giant ravens - despite being named after crows. They were the most popular means of transportation around these parts, with people having them pull carts or ride them directly.

A crowley wasn't as strong or as fast as a horse but there were quite a lot of them around, which made procuring one rather easy, whereas horses were expensive and high maintenance. Unfortunately, like chickens, they couldn't fly.

There was a vast list of names these creatures went by, most of them unsavory. Ugly horse, feathered mule, prick, beaked strapwhore... but the most popular one was, by far, ungrateful bastard.

If horses were likened to loyalty and camaraderie, a crowley's existence was like their dark antonym. When someone calls you a 'crow face' they most certainly weren't referring to your mug. A crowley cared naught about its owner, it only saw you for the food and roof you could provide.

They weren't picky though, fortunately. Any type of low-quality feed, as long as there was enough of it and a safe place to sleep. That was all you needed to "rent the services" of a crowley.

For such reasons as well as their natural resilience, requiring little care, they became very popular among traveling merchants and hamsom cabs. Just don't expect them to stick with you during a harsh winter. If they weren't getting what they wanted, they'll abandon you without sparing a second thought.

Such wretched beast was now desperately ramming its beak - easily the size of two human heads - against a semi-rotten tree trunk. Approaching it, Dailah noticed the metal chain on the crowley's leg connecting the two. Whoever "owned" this bird knew they'd try to escape.

They might be egoistical and calculating in nature but that also makes them predictable. There're really only two things that can lead a crowley to abandon ship. Not getting 'paid' for the value of his work.... or danger.

Opposite the ruined house, there was a small path leading to the forest, but still large enough so that the bird could fit through. She grew up in these types of villages and knew these paths often led to other towns or the open road. But they could also lead to plantations within the forest or other buildings separated from the main area, so she couldn't be sure.

Not to mention she didn't know how far away from civilization this was in the first place.

Instead of walking for god knows how long, fearing both the forest and her kidnappers, she could maybe try and 'strike a deal' with the bird. Free it from its chains and have it carry her in exchange. Their little care for its masters was a welcome quality under these circumstances.

The girl carefully approached the unsettled creature, still desperately beaking at the tree and cawing, as if spooked by shadows.

Then, it suddenly stopped.

And snapped its head towards her.

The crowley stared at her, with its deep, dark eyes that reflected no light. It's not as if it hadn't noticed Dailah approaching, it merely chose to ignore her existence until this moment. For an instant, it looked towards the shovel in her hands before looking into her eyes again.

"Hey... i-i'll get you f-free. Then you can... take me out of here... with you... i-is that alright?"

The crowley just kept staring, waiting. It likely did not understand her words, but they are smart enough to comprehend the meaning of her actions. Or so she hoped.

She reached towards the chain. It made use of a simple yet unique type of locking mechanism, something specially designed to restrain crowley's. Any fool who tried to use normal locks would find their keys mysteriously vanishing, stolen by the creature itself. Figuring out a common padlock was no challenge for these imps.

Once it had enough of its "master", they would disappear in the dead of night. Probably steal some food on the way out.

Dailah inserted her middle and forefinger into a small hole in the lock, one too small for the claws and beak of the giant bird. Reaching deep within she turned a small handle with some dexterity, it was a bit rusty but still manageable.

The chains, symbol of one's obsession for control, untangled from the trunk and fell on the floor. The big dark bird, freed from its tethers, looked towards the ground, then once again to Dailah...

And ran off.

She watched the bird slowly disappear among the ruins of the town, not sparing another glance toward her. Had her mental faculties been in perfect condition, she would've understood this was just the most natural result.

Ungrateful bastard.

"Hey, the prick got away!"

"...!"

A voice echoed in the distance not long after, startling Dailah.

*POW*

As if driving in the point, a gunshot resonated prompting the girl to run away and look for a place to hide.

"T'hell you trying to do!? Hav'its dead corpse carry us back?"

"What? We'll just let it get away?"

"Save yer bullets. They cost lots y'know. How did the basterd free himself anyway?"

"Should we check it?"

The two people - her kidnappers most likely - were now heading in the girl's direction. Fortunately they hadn't noticed her yet as she initially thought.

Dailah considered running through the small path but then decided to crouch and hide behind some of the bushes and trunks. It wouldn't be good if they saw her running through the forest and started shooting, it was better to wait for them to leave.

Two figures came out from behind one of the ruined buildings.

"The damn prick broke the lock!"

They ran over to where the crowley had been stationed.

"It was opened... not broke."

"Didn't ya say thes' things are anti-prickery?"

"They should be! The bastard couldn't escape last time we were here could it!?"

From their conversation, Dailah was able to figure out some things. Did they use this place frequently perhaps? Could also be they only came to scout once to do... whatever it was they wanted to.

"Hey... what if the witch did it?"

A chill crawled up the girl's spine.

"The witch? She's locked up firm'n'tight, didn't we see it just little whil'ago?"

"I don't know! Maybe she used some cursed witchery or something!"

"An' what? Decided she was feelin' nice and freed the bird? Or are ya telling me she was going to run'way with it? A starved woman wouldn't try asking a crow-basterd fer food."

"Damned if i know what those witches think! Maybe she's just trying to mess with us!"

"You're on' paranoid bitch. But sure, let's check on her again. I know you'll keep pesterin' me all day if we don't."

The two women walked back the direction Dailah had come from, back to the cabin where she was being held. Soon they'd find her gone and would start looking for her, there was no more time to waste.

Neither one was the lady that had offered her a lift.

With no other option, Dailah ran through the small path she had set her eyes on.

XXX

There was a small detail, something the girl would've noticed had she been calm and collected, unpestered by the cold and the mud.

Why didn't the crowley, with its great perception and aversion to danger, ran away through the path she believed would lead to her safety? Why did it rather choose to go through its armed 'masters', the ones whose presences it had most certainly noticed? A small, innocent oversight. One that might not have meant anything at all for most. It would still claim its cost nonetheless.

But so what?

This world is built on mistakes and regrets.

What else is this besides another brick being shoved into its foundations.