[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-born-as-a-witch":3,"chapter-born-as-a-witch-born-as-a-witch-chapter-204":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Born as a Witch",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1702572,2172,"Chapter 204: Struggle of Souls","born-as-a-witch-chapter-204",204,"\u003Cp>Do all souls carry wishes? she wondered. Was every lingering spirit tethered by an unspoken desire, small or large, waiting to be acknowledged? Or was it only some, while others drifted because they were simply afraid to let go?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She thought of the one who had asked for food, the one who begged for clothing, and the ones who only wanted to be remembered. Were their wishes so different from the living? Did people not hunger, shiver, and yearn for significance in life as well?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The line between life and death felt thin in that moment, almost transparent. Lira shivered—not from the cold, but from the weight of the thought.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Not every soul,\" Serelyth said suddenly, as though she had read the question lingering in her companion’s heart. Her voice was quiet, but firm, carrying a wisdom carved by centuries. \"Some depart swiftly, their ties already severed. Others linger because of pain, regret, or fear. Wishes... yes, often they are at the center. But sometimes, a soul remains simply because it does not know it has permission to leave.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lira tilted her head, staring at her companion. \"Permission?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Serelyth nodded slowly. \"When death comes suddenly, or unjustly, or when love is cut short, a spirit may wander, waiting for someone to grant them acknowledgment, or to tell them it is all right to go.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lira bit her lip. \"So it isn’t just about giving them what they ask. It’s about... recognizing them.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"That is part of it,\" Serelyth said, her eyes gleaming faintly in the dim corridor. \"And that is what you did. You saw them. You listened. That is rarer than you think.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lira looked down at her hands. They still trembled faintly, as though carrying the memory of every item she had given away. I only gave them small things, she thought. Bread. A cloak. A few words. But perhaps, for the lost, those gestures were mountains.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Do you think I’ll meet more souls like them?\" she asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Serelyth gave a small, knowing smile. \"Yes. The world is wide, and grief leaves many footprints. But you’ll also meet souls who need nothing—who glow with peace and pass without lingering. Both exist. Both teach in their own ways.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lira leaned her head against the wall, exhaling deeply. For a while, she only listened to the sound of dripping water in the distance. Her mind swirled, caught between sorrow for what she had witnessed and gratitude for having been able to bring even a little light to that darkness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally, her eyes drifted closed. \"I’ll rest for just a moment. Then... then we’ll move on.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Serelyth stayed silent, watching her with the quiet patience of someone who understood that rest, too, was sacred.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The stone was cool against her back, and exhaustion pulled heavily on her eyelids. Though she promised herself she would only rest for a moment, the weight of her journey pressed down until her breaths lengthened and steadied. The whisper of dripping water in the distance became rhythmic, lulling her deeper, until she slipped into a place between waking and dreaming.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It began with silence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then came the sound of footsteps—her own, echoing strangely, as though they belonged to someone else. She opened her eyes and found herself standing not in the labyrinth’s stone corridor, but in a vast hall bathed in pale light. The air shimmered with translucent veils of energy, like curtains woven of mist, and beyond them shadows moved—shadows of herself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The nearest figure was familiar yet alien. She saw her own face, younger, eyes filled with the fierce determination of a student who had once sought mastery too quickly. This other-Lira sat cross-legged on the ground, attempting to draw Spirit into her core, but her form shook, sweat beading on her brow. Each time she reached out, the current of energy flickered and broke apart, scattering like water slipping through fingers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I know this,\" Lira whispered to herself, though her voice did not disturb the figure. \"This... I’ve been here before.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her surroundings shifted, and she understood: this was not just dream, but memory—no, deeper than memory. A glimpse into a past life, an echo of her soul’s long struggle with Spirit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The younger self tried again. She pulled in the threads of energy, forcing them with rigid will, her jaw clenched. For a moment, the power gathered, glowing faintly in her hands. But then, with a sound like glass shattering, it burst apart. The girl gasped, flung backward by her own stubbornness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From the corner of the hall, a voice spoke. Not Serelyth’s—older, resonant, belonging to a teacher Lira did not recognize yet somehow remembered. The teacher’s form was vague, a silhouette woven of light.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You push as though Spirit is a tool. You demand as though the universe must obey. That is why you fail.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The girl—her past self—trembled but lifted her chin defiantly. \"If I only push harder, if I endure longer, I will succeed!\" She bit her lip, tried again, and again the current shattered, leaving her gasping.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Watching, the present Lira felt a hollow ache in her chest. She knew that expression, that desperate clinging to pride. She remembered what it was like to believe that failure meant weakness, that persistence without reflection was strength.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The scene shifted again, and now she saw the girl days later—eyes sunken, lips cracked, her body weak from sleeplessness. Still she sat cross-legged, still she tried to force the Spirit into her control. Each attempt ended the same: collapse, trembling, despair.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And yet she refused to stop.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The teacher’s voice rose once more, gentler this time: \"Child, Spirit does not yield to force. To grasp too tightly is to crush. To demand is to sever. Patience, humility, surrender—that is the path.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The girl shook her head, angry tears spilling down her cheeks. \"I cannot surrender. If I stop, if I rest, I will be nothing. I will never be enough!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The words echoed painfully inside Lira’s chest. How many times had she thought the same? How many times had she hidden exhaustion, denying herself kindness because she feared it would look like weakness?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her heart tightened, and she whispered into the dream, though neither the teacher nor the girl seemed to hear: \"You were enough. You only didn’t believe it.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The hall trembled, shadows shifting, as if her recognition itself stirred the memory.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then came another scene: the girl finally collapsing, body too frail to continue. She lay on the cold floor, whispering apologies to herself, to her unseen teacher, to the Spirit she could not master. Her eyes closed, tears staining the stone. For a moment, it seemed her story ended there—with defeat, wasted effort, and despair.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But then the teacher’s voice came again, low and steady: \"Failure is not the end. Even in this, you learn. Even broken threads show you where the weaving is weak. Rest, and in another life, you will try again.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The scene blurred, the girl fading into mist.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lira felt her chest loosen, as though some invisible knot inside her had finally been acknowledged. She stepped forward into the dissolving vision and whispered to her past self, \"I see you. I forgive you. And I will not forget what you endured.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The air shimmered, and for a moment she felt as though she held her younger self’s trembling hands. Warmth passed between them—fragile, fleeting, but real.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then everything fell away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lira gasped awake, her back pressed against the cold wall of the labyrinth once more. Her breaths came fast at first, then slowed as she pressed her hand against her heart. The echoes of the dream lingered like smoke: her past self’s frustration, her desperate need to prove worth, and the teacher’s gentle reminder of patience and humility.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Serelyth stirred beside her, watching with knowing eyes. \"You dreamed,\" she said simply.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Yes,\" Lira whispered, voice unsteady. \"A... memory. A failure. Long ago, I tried to force the Spirit. I burned myself out, again and again.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The dragon-turned-companion inclined her head slightly. \"And now?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lira drew in a breath, steadying herself. \"Now I see... that failure was part of the path. That I needed to fall, again and again, so that I could learn not to climb with pride, but with patience. Humility... perseverance.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Serelyth smiled faintly, the glow of her eyes soft. \"Then the dream served its purpose. The Spirit does not give visions without reason.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lira looked down at her hands—steady now, no longer trembling—and curled them into fists, not in defiance, but in resolve. \"Then I will not repeat the same mistake. Not in this life.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And though the cavern was silent, she felt as though the echo of her past self lingered, watching, at peace for the first time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lira pushed herself upright, brushing dust from her palms. Her limbs still carried the heaviness of sleep, and her mind swam with fragments of the dream—broken threads of her past self, a teacher’s voice echoing with patience. For a moment, she lingered in silence, eyes closed, replaying the warmth that had settled in her chest when she finally forgave that old version of herself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When she opened her eyes, the cavern was the same as it had been before her rest: rough stone walls glistening with damp, faint rivulets trickling downward, and the faint breath of air that whispered from deeper within. Yet something felt different. The dream had left her lighter, more grounded, as if the very weight of her spirit had shifted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Serelyth’s gaze followed her carefully, her posture protective. The dragon’s human form leaned casually against the wall, but her glowing eyes betrayed her constant vigilance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"You walked far, even in sleep,\" she said softly. \"Are you ready to walk further awake?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lira managed a small smile and nodded. Her hand reached instinctively to the vial at her belt. She unfastened it and let it dangle from her fingers. The liquid inside shimmered faintly, spilling threads of silver light across the stone floor. Each droplet of glow was soft, yet together they formed a steady radiance that pushed the shadows back just enough to make the path ahead visible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She exhaled slowly, gratitude swelling in her chest. \"The faeries knew,\" she murmured. \"They knew I would need this more than I realized.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The vial pulsed in answer, as though the silver inside recognized her words. Lira traced its cool surface with her thumb, remembering the gentle hands of the fae who had given it to her, their voices chiming like bells as they pressed the gift into her palm. Back then, she had thought it was merely a lantern for darkness. Now she understood it was a companion, a reminder that not all paths must be walked blind, not all struggles borne alone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"If not for this glow,\" she admitted quietly, \"I think the labyrinth would have already swallowed me whole.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Serelyth stepped closer, her tall form casting faint shadows across the wall. \"Tools matter,\" she said, her voice steady, \"but it is not the vial that carries you forward, little flame. It is your willingness to see. Still... honor your allies. Even light born of fae kindness can carry a soul through shadows.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lira tightened her grip on the vial, nodding solemnly. \"I’ll honor it. Always.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She raised it slightly, letting the silver light catch in the damp veins of mineral along the walls. The glow fractured into tiny sparks that danced like fireflies, guiding her eyes toward the narrowing passage ahead. Each flicker seemed to whisper: This way. Step carefully. Do not falter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her heart steadied. She turned her face to Serelyth, who gave a single approving nod, then stepped into the darkened passage. Lira followed, holding the vial before her like a beacon, each footstep deliberate, her mind echoing with gratitude for the tiny vessel of shimmering silver that glowed faithfully in her hands.\u003C\u002Fp>",1977,"2026-06-06T14:30:21.781Z",1,"novelbin.me","8862d0ab57a6c4dc914344da01d0dd922cac0e298663f01ce996a53d6eb438b6","born-as-a-witch-chapter-119","born-as-a-witch-chapter-118",479,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fborn-as-a-witch-cover.jpg"]