This is the great forest that lies between the Kingdom of Unia and the Kingdom of Sarina—deep and dark, hence the name Schwarzwald, the Dark Forest.
But no one calls it that. Everyone just calls it the Great Forest. It covers nearly a fifth of the continent, so the name fits.
People only dare to venture near the edges.
I’m a witch living within that forest. As for my age... let’s just say I’ve lived long enough. I was born in Sarina, in the west, but now I live in a little house nestled in the eastern woods, on the Unian side. There are... reasons for that.
Thanks to this vast forest, there hasn’t been a major war between Unia and Sarina in a long time. Both kingdoms are too busy fending off the monsters that pour out of the woods. They don’t have the luxury of waging war on each other.
Oh, right—my name is Selina. Last name? I’ve long since forgotten it!
I figured I’d spend the rest of my years in this forest. Either I’d grow old and be eaten by a monster, or I’d die and then be eaten. One way or another.
I do see people from time to time. Most of them aren’t the friendly sort. They try to rob me, attack me, loot my home. But they end up sleeping in the forest forever. No need to dig graves out here—the monsters take care of the cleanup.
I’ve had more agreeable dealings too: selling herbs and monster parts, buying food and essentials. That kind of thing.
The mayor of Lang, a village on Unia’s forest border, was one of the more reasonable humans I’ve met. Though... was it him? The one who left that troublesome infant in a basket outside my door?
He didn’t deliver the baby himself, but I suspect he told someone how to find me.
✳︎ ✳︎
That evening, I’d just settled in for some reading after dinner—my one indulgence.
The snow hadn’t started yet, but it was late autumn, and the wind howled through the trees. Normally, I never miss the sound of someone approaching. But that night, I was too absorbed in a newly acquired book. That—and the wind was so loud I’d cast a sound-dampening spell.
I’d spent a great deal of magic teleporting to the capital, where I sold off my potions, magic stones, and savings to buy three whole books.
Back in my younger days, when I lived lavishly in Sarina, books were easy to come by. Now, I manage maybe a few a year. I’ve reread all the ones I own so many times I’ve memorized every word.
“Ahh... there’s nothing like a new book. If only I could make something more profitable. Then I’d buy five next time.”
I placed a bookmark and let out a satisfied sigh. That’s when the noise started.
I’d lifted the spell when I put the book down—magic frugality is essential when you live alone.
“Is it a monster?”
Some monsters have adorable cries that don’t match their gruesome looks. But this sound... wasn’t one of them.
I wanted to ignore it. I really did. But some instincts are stronger than reason. A baby’s cry pierces straight to the gut.
I knew it was trouble even before I opened the door.
“There, there now...”
Outside my door, a newborn screamed its lungs out in a basket.
“Barely born, aren’t you?”
Rage trembled through me. Not wrinkled enough to be just born—maybe two days old?
“First things first. You need warmth.”
Judging by the strength of her cry, she was healthy at least. I carried the basket to the hearth and picked her up. Her hair was still wispy—blond, perhaps, though baby hair is often pale and changes later.
“Whoa, that’s pee!”
I wiped my wet hands on a cloth and rummaged around for something that could pass for a diaper.
“A girl... is that why they abandoned you?”
The villages near the forest are poor. Of course they are. Monsters spill out of the woods constantly. It’s hard enough to farm. Raising livestock is even worse—monsters love livestock.
Boys, who grow up to be workers, are welcomed by farming families. Girls? Not so much.
“Oh dear... are you a little witch?”
Organization was never my strong suit. My house is cluttered with herbs, monster pelts, bones—all sorts of things. But then, dried herbs started fluttering through the air.
She was doing it—the little babe. Floating things with raw, uncontrolled magic.
“Hey now! That’s a no-no!”
A few herbs flying around is fine. But if something heavy—like a kettle—hit her, that would be bad.
“I think we’ll seal your magic until you’re old enough to know better.”
I touched a finger to her forehead and cast a sealing spell.
I’ve never raised a child before. A wet nurse would be ideal, but there’s no one like that in Lang village. And I don’t have the time or patience to deal with magical surges on top of inexperience.
Still... floating things at this age?
“You’ve got a lot of magic in you, don’t you?”
As for the crying—I knew what it meant, even as a complete novice. Sealing her power had taken a lot out of her. Now she needed milk.
“Time to summon a goat!”
This gold coin could’ve bought me another book. But the baby’s screams were like a fire alarm. I drew a summoning circle, placed the coin inside, and conjured a goat from some farm in Unia.
“Whew... that wore me out... If goat’s milk doesn’t work...”
I never imagined I’d be milking goats at my age, let alone soaking cloth in it to feed to a baby. Is this... maternal instinct?
“I’ll have to give you a name, little one.”
This child will bring trouble, I know it. But honestly, I’ve been bored stiff lately. Maybe a little chaos is just what I need.
“You’re loud, full of life... I think Zoe suits you!”
And so, I spent the night holding Zoe, her belly full of goat’s milk.
Why was a magically gifted infant abandoned at my doorstep?
I had questions. But for now... I was too tired to care.