Chapter 15: Clichés

That owl?

The owl from the witch legend?

A flash of thought shot through Lumian’s mind, and his blood seemed to freeze in an instant.

At that moment, he was more terrified than when he had seen the three-faced monster.

After all, this was reality; the ruins were a dream.

Even if you died in a dream, your real body would die too—but psychologically, there was still a layer of separation.

“What should I do?”

“Will it endanger Aurora?”

“…”

As Lumian strained to think of a solution, the owl made no other move, simply watching him, as if conducting some kind of assessment.

After several seconds, the owl spread its wings and took flight, heading toward the distant mountains and forests.

Along the way, it glided downward and vanished somewhere in the village of Keldu.

Only when the owl was completely out of sight did Lumian finally relax.

He plopped down onto a chair and raised a hand to his forehead.

It was drenched in sweat.

“Was that really the owl from the witch legend?”

“Has it really lived this long?”

“At any rate, it’s unlike other owls—its eyes aren’t dull; they’re more like a human’s…”

“If it really is that owl, why did it fly to my window? Just because I was investigating the witch legend? But we already gave up on it…”

“It just looked at me a few times and left…”

“I don’t know if it’ll come back, or if it’ll affect Aurora…”

Since nothing immediate happened, Lumian had planned to observe for a few more days, but fearing it might endanger Aurora, he decided he couldn’t hide it from his sister.

Leaving his room, he found Aurora still asleep, so he went downstairs and prepared breakfast—all her favorites:

Runny fried eggs, sugared pancakes, plain toast with jam…

I’ll have to make noodles soon—this time with meat sauce… Lumian noticed the noodle shelf was empty and decided to restock it within the next two days.

It was Aurora’s favorite staple.

Aurora descended the stairs in her nightgown, rubbing her golden hair, to find the kitchen table already set with food.

“Good morning,” she yawned, covering her mouth.

Lumian smiled:

“It’s not early anymore.”

“Aren’t you always saying your day should start at dawn?”

“Yes, but my plan is to sleep,” Aurora sat down and began eating with milk.

Lumian sat across the six-person table, chewing his pancake, and spoke as if casually:

“I’ve been investigating the truth behind those legends in the village these past few days.”

“Why?” Aurora asked.

Lumian answered honestly:

“You refused to help me gain supernatural power, so I thought I’d try on my own—maybe the legends hold clues.”

“Almost impossible,” Aurora dismissed offhandedly. “Those legends have been rewritten over generations, so they’re unrecognizable, or they’re just records of someone’s hallucination—meaningless. Hmm, or maybe someone made them up as an excuse. Heh. And of course, contributions from people like you.”

"What?" Lumian didn't understand what Aurora meant by "someone who finds entertainment in others' misfortunes."

It wasn’t even Intisian.

“Full name: prank enthusiast,” Aurora explained briefly, then frowned. “You suddenly tell me this—you got into trouble, and now you’re coming to your big sister for help?”

“It was a minor accident, nothing serious,” Lumian replied confidently.

He gathered his thoughts:

“My first target was the witch legend.”

“What witch legend?” Aurora looked puzzled.

“You never heard it?” Lumian was surprised. “Long ago, someone in the village died suddenly. When he was buried, an owl flew in and perched on his bedside, only leaving when the corpse was lifted. Afterward, the body became so heavy it took nine oxen to drag the coffin. That’s when the villagers realized he’d been a witch.”

Aurora listened carefully:

“I hadn’t noticed this legend before.”

Unscientific… Lumian couldn’t believe it.

Although Aurora mostly stayed home, she went out several days each month to chat with old women like Naloka and tell stories to children—she knew every rumor in Keldu. How could she not have heard this widely known witch legend?

And besides, this house was built right on the witch’s original home!

Lumian had once suspected Aurora chose Keldu to settle precisely to claim the witch’s treasure and thereby gain supernatural power.

“And then?” Aurora asked calmly.

Lumian answered truthfully:

“We asked the elders; they confirmed the event really happened, but it was decades ago. The witch’s house was burned down by the Church, and the land is exactly what you bought.”

“Really?” Aurora looked genuinely surprised. “I knew the price they sold me this land for was suspiciously low… I thought it was just because I was sweet-talking the old ladies…”

She thought a moment, then added:

“The witch’s corpse was burned by the Church?”

“Yes, the ashes were buried in the graveyard beside the church,” Lumian nodded.

He continued:

“Since all leads were cut off, we gave up on it. But this morning, when I woke up, I saw an owl outside my window—very similar to the one in the legend.”

“Certain?” Aurora’s expression turned serious.

“Not certain, but it really isn’t like a normal owl,” Lumian replied objectively.

Aurora thought for a while, then spoke slowly:

“For now, don’t leave the village. Especially after dark—don’t leave the house until I’ve figured out what’s going on.”

Here, she gave a wry smile:

“I told you before—chasing supernatural power is dangerous. See? Trouble’s come!”

“But thankfully, it doesn’t seem like the other side has ill intent. The problem should be manageable.”

Now that you’re prepared, I’m relieved… Lumian lowered his head and said bluntly:

“Sister, I’m sorry.”

He quickly changed the subject:

“Have you heard back from your pen pals?”

“How fast do you expect? It’s not electricity—oh, mail!” Aurora snorted.

Didn’t “mail” just mean letters and packages sent through the post office? Lumian didn’t understand.

He didn’t care much—he was used to Aurora throwing out strange words.

…………

Outside the Old Tavern.

Lumian stood there, glancing around.

He knew the lady who gave him the Tarot cards was probably still asleep—he was here to find Ryan Cos, Lyra, and Valentine.

As expected, the three outsiders occupied a table in the tavern, eating breakfast.

Trout rolls, wine, eggplant bread… they’re eating well… Lumian observed for a few seconds, then left the tavern without disturbing Lyra and the others.

After a while, Ryan and the others emerged, preparing to continue their walk through Keldu, looking for people to “chat” with.

Lumian stepped forward, arms wide, beaming:

“Good morning, my cabbages.”

He saw Valentine’s facial muscles twitch; Ryan looked slightly embarrassed, Lyra amused.

Hmm, they’re wearing the exact same clothes as before… traveling light, no extra outfits? Lumian noticed Lyra still wore her pleatless woolen bodysuit, white short coat, and Maxis boots, with two silver bells on her veil-hat and two more on her boots. Ryan still wore his brown tweed jacket and light-yellow trousers, topped with a simple dark round hat.

Likewise, Valentine still had powdered hair and makeup.

“Good morning, Lumian. What do you want?” Ryan asked calmly.

“You’re my friends—I’d visit even if I had nothing to ask,” Lumian said with a wounded expression.

He then asked:

“I’ve noticed you’ve been chatting with villagers these past few days—what are you looking for?”

“Come to me, my cabbages—I’m your friend. Any questions, just ask!”

“We can’t trust your answers,” Valentine couldn’t help saying.

Ryan glanced at him, signaling him to calm down.

Lumian smiled:

“So you trust everyone else’s answers completely?”

Lyra was momentarily speechless. Ryan thought a moment and said:

“Actually, we can’t fully trust anyone. We combine different people’s answers with our own observations to make judgments.”

“Exactly,” Lumian spread his hands. “So hearing my answer isn’t bad—it’s at least one reference.”

Ryan fell silent, instinctively glancing left and right.

In the morning, many people in Keldu Village headed toward the farmlands, but almost none passed near the old tavern.

“That’s right,” Ryan said, choosing his words carefully. “We’re here looking for someone.”

“The parish priest?” Lu Mi asked with a smile.

Ryan shook his head:

“No.

“We visited the parish priest in order to find that person.”

“Who?” Lu Mi asked, his expression curious. “I know everyone in the village—I might be able to help.”

Ryan did not brighten at this:

“Actually, we don’t know who that person is, how old they are, or what they look like.

“A while ago, we received a letter—it came from Keldu Village, with no signature—and now we want to find the person who wrote it.”

Informant? Lu Mi instinctively flashed that thought.

He feigned confusion:

“After you came to the village because of that letter, didn’t that person contact you?”

“No,” Lyra answered for Ryan.

“Maybe he still lacks a sense of security? Doesn’t fully trust you yet?” Lu Mi offered eagerly, fully engaged in helping. “Can’t you judge from the letter’s content?”

What he really wanted to know was what the letter said.

If it targeted the parish priest and his group, he’d welcome it—but if it involved Aurora, he’d have to urge his sister to move immediately. After all, Aurora often corresponded with her “pen pals,” and if one of them got caught, she could easily be dragged in, with those very letters as evidence.

(End of Chapter)