The door opened before I could decide whether to knock.
A woman stood in the doorway, holding a small lamp in one hand and pulling a shawl around her shoulders with the other. Her dark hair had been gathered hastily, and sleep still softened her face.
She looked past me toward the empty road.
“Coco?”
The name stirred something in my memory, though I could not place it.
Her eyes lowered and found me standing several steps from the house, dressed for travel with a sword at my waist.
She froze.
I raised both hands, keeping them away from the hilt.
“I apologize for appearing at this hour.”
The woman stared at me.
“You are a child.”
“That has been mentioned before.”
Her grip tightened around the lamp. She looked behind me again, perhaps expecting the adults who had allowed a nine-year-old to wander through the night carrying a weapon.
No one appeared.
“Are you lost?” she asked.
“Probably.”
“That is a strange answer.”
“It has been a strange evening.”
She stepped onto the path, worry beginning to replace caution. “Where are your parents?”
Very far away, in a room where time had stopped.
“I cannot reach them at the moment.”
The woman’s expression changed immediately.
The suspicion left her face so completely that guilt touched me. She had found a child outside her home in the middle of the night and decided within moments that he needed help.
“Come inside,” she said. “We can sort this out in the morning. You must be freezing.”
She turned toward the open door.
Something cold pressed against the inside of my skull.
Foresight.
The skill had never felt gentle, but this was sharper than the warning that had led me here.
The path vanished.
For less than a breath, I saw the house from above.
Blue light spread beneath its roof. Crystals erupted through wood and stone, branching outward like frozen lightning. The woman stood in the doorway as the first growth wrapped around her feet.
Her hand reached toward someone in the sky.
Then the vision ended, with a feeling of both danger and opportunity.
I was moving before the world settled back into place.
“Get away from the house!”
The woman turned, startled.
A pale blue line appeared between the floorboards behind her.
I drew one breath.
Power gathered through my legs.
Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash
The ground broke beneath my first step.
The woman barely had time to gasp before I reached her. I caught her around the waist, turned my shoulder between her and the door, and drove us both away from the house.
The lamp fell.
It struck the path and rolled without going out.
Behind us, the house bloomed.
Blue crystal punched through the doorway with a sound like a lake freezing all at once. It spread across the walls, swallowing timber beneath translucent growth. More erupted through the roof, twisting upward in sharp, luminous branches.
The woman cried out as we hit the ground.
I took most of the fall, rolling once before stopping with her held against my chest.
A crystal spear tore through the earth where she had been standing.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
The world filled with blue light.
It shone through the trees, reflected across the road, and painted the woman’s horrified face in cold color.
“My house,” she whispered.
A scream came from above.
“Mother!”
I looked up.
Two figures hung against the night sky.
One was a young girl wrapped in a dark cloak, struggling so fiercely that the pale-haired man holding her nearly lost his grip. They were standing on something that moved through the air like a folded sheet of fabric caught by an invisible wind.
The girl saw the woman beside me.
“Mother!”
She threw herself toward the edge.
The man caught the back of her clothing.
“Coco, wait until we reach the ground.”
“She’s there! Let me go!”
“I can see that she is there. I would prefer that you remain alive long enough to reach her.”
Whatever carried them descended in a controlled spiral.
It touched the road several paces away, folding under their feet as though the air had released it.
The girl broke free the moment she was close enough.
She rushed past me and dropped beside her mother.
“Mother, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I thought it was just a picture, and then the light started, and Qifrey pulled me away, but you were still inside.”
Her words collapsed into sobbing.
Her mother seized her, pressing Coco’s face against her shoulder.
“You are alive.”
“I ruined everything.”
“You are alive,” she repeated, her own voice breaking. “We can speak about everything else afterward.”
Coco clung to her.
The pale-haired man remained several steps away, one gloved hand holding a strange pen. His white cloak had settled around him, and the brim of his hat cast part of his face into shadow.
One eye remained fixed on the crystal house.
The other turned toward me.
I activated Observe.
Observe
Subject: Unknown adult male
Race: Human
Approximate Age: 29 years old
Occupation: Unknown magical practitioner. Skilled instructor suspected.
Condition: Physically capable. Concealed injury beneath right eye covering. Moderate fatigue.
Emotional State: Relieved. Guarded. Intensely curious.
Immediate Intent: Contain active spell. Protect Coco. Evaluate witness.
Threat Assessment: High.
Opportunity Assessment: High.
He looked from the trench my foot had carved through the path to the woman I had pulled from the doorway.
“That was remarkable,” he said.
I rose slowly.
“I was fortunate.”
“No,” he replied, smiling as though I had said something amusing. “Fortunate people trip before danger reaches them. You crossed nearly fifteen paces before the crystal moved the length of a finger.”
The woman looked at the destroyed path and then at me.
“You saved me.”
Coco lifted her face from her mother’s shoulder. Tears covered her cheeks.
She stared at me as if noticing me for the first time.
“Who are you?”
“Ubuyashiki Haruya.”
The man’s visible eye sharpened at the name, though it clearly meant nothing to him.
He placed one hand over his chest.
“Qifrey. Witch and teacher.”
The word witch connected several memories from the reincarnation office.
A girl who learned that magic was drawn.
A teacher in white.
An atelier filled with apprentices.
Witch Hat Atelier.
I had heard the name in passing, buried between louder conversations about demons, heroes, and worlds where cities disappeared every few months. I remembered very little beyond the images of circles, ink, and pointed hats.
The crystal consuming the house was enough to tell me the danger had not been exaggerated.
Qifrey approached the family.
“Coco, I need you to tell me exactly what you drew.”
She tightened her arms around her mother.
“I copied one of the pictures from the book.”
“What book?”
“The one I bought when I was little. The witch at the festival sold it to me with the pen.”
Qifrey’s expression changed.
It lasted only an instant, but Observe caught the tightening near his eye and the sudden control in his breathing.
Concern.
Recognition.
Anger held very carefully.
“Where is the book now?” he asked.
Coco pointed toward the house.
The crystal had already swallowed most of the front room.
“In there.”
Qifrey looked at the expanding formation. “Of course it is.”
It was the first irritated thing he had said.
Coco flinched.
He noticed and softened his voice.
“You did not know what the symbols meant. I understand that. For now, stay with your mother. I need to stop the spell from spreading.”
He walked toward the edge of the crystal growth.
I followed.
Qifrey glanced over his shoulder. “You should remain with them.”
“I would rather understand what almost killed us.”
“That is usually the sort of sentence that causes more trouble.”
“I have heard something similar from my teacher.”
“Does your teacher also allow you to carry a sword?”
“He complains about it often.”
Qifrey’s mouth curved briefly.
The amusement did not reach his eye.
He knelt near the outermost crystal and drew a circle on a small square of material. His pen left lines of dark, gleaming ink. Symbols formed around the circle, precise enough that my Drawing skill reacted before I understood any of them.
He completed the design and placed it against the ground.
Light moved through the ink.
A transparent barrier rose around the house, forming a pale shell over the crystal growth.
The crystals struck it and stopped.
My attention narrowed.
No chant.
No gesture beyond drawing.
The circle carried the effect.
Qifrey noticed where I was looking.
The warmth left his expression.
“Coco,” he said quietly. “Come with me for a moment.”
She looked at her mother.
“I will remain here,” the woman told her. “Go. Answer his questions so he can fix this.”
Coco stood reluctantly and followed Qifrey beyond the edge of the path.
I went with them.
Qifrey stopped beneath the trees.
“I believe I asked you to remain behind.”
“You did.”
“And yet.”
“I did not agree.”
Coco stared between us despite her swollen eyes.
Qifrey let out a slow breath. “You are an unusually difficult child.”
“I have four sisters. It was necessary.”
That earned the faintest laugh from Coco.
Qifrey glanced at her, and for a moment his guarded expression softened.
Then he crouched so they were closer to the same height.
“Coco, what you discovered tonight is a secret that must be protected. Magic is not something only special people are born able to use. It is created through the proper tools, ink, and symbols.”
She looked down at her hands.
“I know.”
“You were never supposed to learn that.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“I believe you.”
“Then you can teach me how to undo it.”
Qifrey was silent.
Coco’s breathing became shallow.
“What?”
“There are laws governing magic for a reason. People who learn its secret without becoming witches must have that knowledge removed.”
Her face emptied.
“You mean you’re going to make me forget?”
“I am sorry.”
“My mother is still trapped outside her own home because of me, and you want to make me forget how it happened?”
“The spell is forbidden. The book may have come from dangerous people. Allowing you to retain the secret could place both of you at greater risk.”
Coco backed away.
“No.”
Qifrey reached toward her carefully. “Coco.”
“No! I can remember it.”
His hand stopped.
“The spell?”
“The page. I remember the circle.”
Qifrey’s attention became absolute.
Coco wiped at her face with both hands.
“I looked at it so many times. I thought the pictures were beautiful, even when I didn’t understand them. I can draw it again. Maybe not perfectly, but I remember the shapes.”
Qifrey lowered his hand.
Observe changed.
Immediate Intent Updated: Preserve Coco’s memories temporarily. Investigate connection to forbidden magic practitioners. Recruit as apprentice.
The Brimmed Hats.
The name surfaced from the distant memory of that other place.
Qifrey turned toward me.
His expression remained kind.
The danger in Foresight sharpened.
“And you,” he said. “You have heard considerably more than you should have.”
“I suspected that would become a problem.”
“I am afraid so.”
He drew a small symbol on a small sheet with his pen.
A pale light formed at its tip.
I could have moved.
My hand was already close to my sword, and Thunder Breathing waited beneath my ribs.
I stayed still.
My foresight opportunity of this week told me I would be safe, and this was the moment that could lead me to him as my teacher.
If I attacked him, I would lose that chance before understanding anything, so I let it be.
Qifrey touched the light gently against my forehead.
Cold passed through my skin.
It reached for my thoughts.
The effect slid across my memories of the circle, the crystals, his explanation of magic, and the word witch.
Then it struck something immovable.
Mental interference detected.
Gamer Mind MAX activated.
External memory alteration nullified.
The cold vanished.
I blinked.
Qifrey waited.
His smile faded.
“You still remember what I said?”
“Magic is created through symbols, ink, and proper tools.”
He stared at me.
Coco stared at me too.
“That spell should have worked,” Qifrey said.
“I am pleased it did not.”
“That was not reassurance.”
He rose and took one careful step back.
His pen remained lowered, though the hand holding it had tightened.
“Who are you?”
“I told you. Ubuyashiki Haruya.”
“That tells me your name.”
“It is usually what people want when they ask.”
His visible eye narrowed.
I decided that teasing the powerful witch who had just attempted to remove part of my mind had reached its safe limit.
“I come from a family afflicted by a hereditary curse,” I said. “It appeared when I turned eight and will continue spreading until it kills me. Most members of my family do not reach thirty.”
Coco’s fear shifted into concern.
Qifrey looked toward the faint branching mark near my left temple.
I moved my hair aside so he could see it clearly.
His gaze remained there longer than expected.
Something changed behind his expression.
He did not reach for the mark. He did not ask whether it hurt.
He understood too quickly.
Observe offered only a little.
Emotional State: Recognition. Suppressed sympathy. Personal association.
“I came searching for something that could help me treat it,” I continued. “I did not know this place used magic, but now that I do, I want to learn.”
“That is a convenient story.”
“It would be more convenient if the curse were invented.”
Coco stepped closer to inspect the mark before catching herself.
“Does it hurt?”
“Sometimes. Mostly it makes my body weaker.”
“And magic could cure it?”
“I do not know.”
Qifrey looked back toward the crystal house.
“Magic that directly alters the body is forbidden.”
“Because it cannot be done?”
His eye returned to me.
“Because it can.”
The answer carried more weight than the words.
I thought of his concealed injury.
The similarity he had seen between us was not imagined.
Qifrey tapped the end of his pen against one gloved finger.
“One child who remembers forbidden magic is already a serious problem.”
“I am helpful in groups.”
“You resisted a memory spell and crossed a road faster than most adult witches could react.”
“I did say helpful, not uncomplicated.”
Coco made a small, wet sound that became a laugh.
Qifrey stared at both of us.
Then he sighed.
“I am beginning to regret having an atelier.”
“You have other students?” Coco asked.
“Three.”
“Are they witches?”
“They are apprentices.”
Her eyes brightened despite everything that had happened.
Qifrey noticed.
“So will we come with you?” she asked.
“You may,” he said. “You remember the forbidden diagram, and I need to determine who gave it to you. Teaching you to control magic is safer than leaving you ignorant of what you can do.”
Coco looked toward me.
“And Haruya?”
“He is a separate problem.”
“I can hear you.”
“That is part of the problem.”
He studied me once more, gaze settling briefly on the curse.
“Your resistance to memory magic must be investigated. Until I understand it, allowing you to wander freely with this knowledge would be irresponsible.”
“That sounds like permission.”
“It is reluctant containment.”
“I have trained under worse descriptions.”
We returned to Coco’s mother.
She stood near the fallen lamp, watching the barrier around her ruined home. The blue crystals had stopped spreading, but they filled nearly everything she owned.
Coco reached her first.
“Mother, Qifrey says I have to go with him.”
The woman’s face tightened.
Qifrey stepped forward before fear could become refusal.
“Your daughter’s magical ability awakened tonight,” he said. “Without proper instruction, another accident could place her and everyone near her in danger.”
Coco looked at him sharply.
He met her eyes for only a moment.
The lie was for her mother.
“I can teach her,” he continued. “I can also investigate the magic affecting your house and search for a way to reverse it.”
“You want me to send my daughter away with a man I met tonight.”
“When you phrase it that way, I admit the proposal becomes less appealing.”
She did not smile.
Qifrey became serious.
“You have every reason to distrust me. Tonight, however, your daughter used a form of magic she could not control. Others may come looking for the book she possessed. Remaining here would place both of you in danger.”
“What will happen to the house?”
“I will seal it completely so the petrification cannot spread. I will also arrange compensation for your lost home, tools, and work until the spell is reversed.”
“You can do that?”
“It is my responsibility as Coco's teacher.”
The woman looked at Coco.
Her daughter’s eyes were red. Her clothes were dirty, and ink stained her fingers.
“You always wanted to become a witch,” she said quietly.
Coco began crying again.
“I did not want it like this.”
“I know.”
The woman drew her away from us.
They spoke beneath the trees for several minutes. Coco shook her head more than once. Her mother held both of her hands and said something that made her cry harder.
Eventually, Coco threw her arms around her.
Her mother held her just as tightly.
I looked away and gave them what privacy the open road allowed.
Qifrey stood beside me.
“You saved her mother before you knew either of them,” he said.
“I knew she was in danger.”
“That does not explain why you ran toward it.”
I glanced at him. “Would an explanation change whether it was right?”
“No.”
“Then we can save it for later.”
His visible eye softened.
“You truly are nine?”
“Yes.”
“You speak like a tired official.”
“My father leads an organization.”
“That explains some of it.”
“My sisters explain the rest.”
Coco and her mother returned.
The woman stopped in front of me and bowed.
I stepped forward before she could lower herself deeply.
“You do not need to do that.”
“You pulled me away from the house.”
“I saw the danger.”
“You saved my life.”
Her voice trembled, though she kept her eyes on mine.
“My daughter would have lost her home and her mother in the same moment. Whatever else happens, you prevented that.”
I did not know what to say.
The old instinct urged me to lower my eyes and turn her gratitude toward luck, Foresight, or training.
I had learned better.
“I am glad I reached you,” I said with a smile.
She touched my hair near the edge of the curse, careful not to touch the mark itself.
“I hope you find what you came here searching for.”
Coco stepped beside her.
“Thank you for saving Mother.”
“You are welcome.”
She wiped her cheeks. “And for not forgetting.”
“I had very little control over that part.”
“I am still thankful.”
Qifrey completed the seal around the house. Pale lines stretched through the air, forming a layered shell over the crystal. Once finished, the blue glow dimmed until the road belonged to the moon again.
He unfolded the same cloth that had carried him through the sky.
It spread across the ground, far larger than it should have been.
Coco stared at it.
“We are flying?”
“Yes.”
She looked excited for half a second before remembering the night she was leaving behind.
Her mother squeezed her hand.
“Go.”
Coco climbed onto the cloth.
I followed and sat near the edge.
Qifrey looked at my sword.
“Do you intend to wear that into my atelier?”
“I intend to wear it wherever I go.”
“There are children there.”
“I am also a child.”
“That argument did not reassure me earlier, and it has somehow become worse.”
Coco laughed again.
It was quieter this time, with grief still beneath it, but it was real.
Qifrey stepped onto the cloth and raised his pen.
The ground fell away.
Coco leaned over the edge until he caught the back of her cloak.
“You have already nearly fallen once tonight,” he said. “Let us avoid making it a habit.”
“I wanted to wave.”
“You can wave while sitting.”
She did.
Her mother stood beside the sealed crystal house, one hand raised toward us.
Coco kept waving until the road disappeared beneath the trees.
I looked ahead.
Somewhere beyond the dark hills waited an atelier, three apprentices, and a system of magic built from ink and careful lines.
Opportunity and danger.
Foresight had promised both.