The Great Witch of Magic Academy

A few hours have passed.

Grimhild and the rest embarked on a journey to Mesnil, riding atop a carriage that was pulled by the Four Horses of the Apocalypse.

The open carriage rattled along the eroded road as its wooden wheels groaned with every rut and stone.

Grimhild sat near the front bench with her legs drawn up slightly, and a cloak wrapped around her shoulders. The open air tugged at the edges of her long white hair, threading it through the cold wind like spider silk.

Her eyes scanned the trail ahead, where trees stretched tall like rusted spears.

Beside her, the reins lay idle, guided more by will than hand. The skeletal horses, enveloped in a quiet blue flame, pulled the wagon effortlessly with their hooves never quite touching the earth.

Jean Parolette lounged on a barrel further back, legs crossed, and his arms draped along the wagon's edge. His gaze kept drifting toward Grimhild with a curious glance.

"You know…" Jean finally spoke up, "Why do we have to travel so far to Mesnil? Can't we just teleport? Wouldn't that save us a lot of time?"

Grimhild didn't turn her head.

"Teleportation is forbidden. Any acts of teleportation and you'll be punished accordingly by law. It is a forbidden spell, specifically in Midgard."

Jean lifted his brows.

"Huh, really? Why is that?"

Grimhild turned to face him.

"Teleportation Magic was created by the Demons in Muspelheim. They're the ones who constructed its magical formula, and as you may know, demonic magic isn't allowed."

Jean tilted his head to the side.

"Why doesn't someone create their own Teleportation Magic outside of the demonic one then?"

Grimhild averted her gaze, staring in the distance.

"Because… the demons were the first race to come up with the 'idea' of teleportation, thus, that idea is incorporated into their intrinsic magic. If anyone tries to create their own teleportation spell, it would be connected to the demonic race."

"Oh… so that's how it works." Jean looked down in deep thought. "I guess that makes a lot of sense."

Elizabeth sat opposite side of Grimhild, wrapped in a deep green shawl that Zarutha had created for her via Druid magic. Her eyes were distant, following the motion of the trees as they passed while her hands rested in her lap.

It was evident that she was suffering from some sort of ptsd with her fingers twitching, as if still feeling the ghost of Hel in her skin.

Kyto sat close beside her, not touching, but near enough to catch her if her strength failed again.

He hadn't spoken in nearly an hour, but he never strayed away from Elizabeth.

"I can still feel her. It's like an echo in the back of my thoughts…" Elizabeth spoke up, shivering in her body.

"You're free." Kyto said with a low voice "She's sealed. You're not her vessel anymore! Besides, you're in control now, Grimhild made sure of that."

"I know." Elizabeth smiled softly, looking at the road. "But it's like a scar that hasn't finished healing. It itches."

Grimhild glanced back over her shoulder, just for a moment. Her voice came steady.

"It will itch for a while. Some parts of you remember the shape of chains even after they're gone."

Elizabeth looked down.

"Did it feel like that for you, Grimhild?"

Grimhild widened her eyes, but she didn't answer.

Zarutha sat on the carriage, perched on its edge.

"You lot talk like a funeral procession." He muttered. "Do you even realize how good we've got it? Open road, a breeze that doesn't smell like death for once, and Grimhild Yorgana herself—"

"Let's not pretend we're riding through paradise." Chroliosa chimed in, facing the delivery owl as she sat beside Grimhild with Obsidia sleeping idly next to her. "We're off to Mesnil, a country ruled by Lancelot, the corrupt."

"Just let me pretend!" Zarutha huffed.

Fhiron sat on the same side of the wagon beside Elizabeth. "Do you think it's wise to take this path?" He called out. "I haven't visited Midgard in a while, but this area is full of Bandits and orcs."

"What makes you think I'll let those no lives overthrow us? You're the only one here out of mana, Fhiron, not us."

"Tsk…" Fhiron crossed his arms. "Well, seeing you lot fight makes me feel useless."

Grimhild smirked at his comment.

"You'll need to replenish your mana with food, it's a natural source of recovery for everyone. Food has plentiful mana, you can reach full recovery depending on how much you eat."

"Yes indeed!" Zarutha shouted. "I can cook fine meals with large amounts of mana! Whenever we find a place to rest, I can show you!"

"That'll be lovely, bird brain." Said Fhiron teasingly.

"Hey, watch it, Elf King!"

Jean chuckled, then leaned forward.

"So what exactly are we walking into at Mesnil again? I assume it's mostly Lancelot, right?"

"No." Grimhild said. "There is Lancelot and Merlin, the Great Mage. She's working beside him to take me down, even if it means taking you all hostage to put me at a disadvantage. She may not know that I'm aware of her plans, but that's where she fails."

Chroliosa exhaled.

"That is indeed troublesome… Merlin is a powerful mage. She controlled me… and every other Elufray Spirit to abide by her commands. Wandering into Mesnil without a plan is dangerous."

Elizabeth nodded, brushing her hair from her eyes.

"My father used to say Mesnil was once a peaceful nation under Lancelot's rule, but now… I see power corrupted him."

"Power does do that to people." Muttered Fhiron, crossing his arms. "Unless you're me! I only care about beautiful women! Fwa ha ha!"

"You perverted King…" Mutterrd Grimhild, disappointed in her glare.

Kyto glanced at them, drumming his fingers lightly on the wood beside him.

"You know… we're a pretty strange crew, now that I think about it."

"That's putting it lightly," Zarutha said, now curling up in the corner of the open carriage. "A Rozenheart, the Elf King, an Elufray, Champion User, and a morally ambiguous witch."

"Don't forget the delivery owl," Chroliosa added with a smile.

"Well of course! I'm by far the most important member here!" Said Zarutha, puffing out his chest.

Kyto shook his head.

"You're all mad."

Elizabeth leaned slightly against him.

"Yeah, maybe, but I'd rather be mad with you than sane and alone."

Kyto went quiet.

Grimhild watched them from the edge of her vision with a slight smile crossing her lips.

"You two…" Grimhild lowered her head with a smile.

Fhiron chuckled.

"Ah yes… I forgot how wonderful it was to be young and in love."

"H-Huh??" Elizabeth faced the elf king with wide eyes, feeling a blush engrave her cheeks. "W-What do you mean 'in love'? It's not like that!"

Kyto widened his eyes at their comment, feeling his anxiety kick in.

"Fwa ha ha! No need to hide it, we've all been in love at one point!" Said Fhiron, getting everyone else to laugh.

"T-That's not the case!" Said Elizabeth, flailing her arms up and down.

"Oh sure…" Muttered Chroliosa, grinning at their reactions.

"N-No, seriously! We're childhood friends!" Shouted Elizabeth.

The forest thinned as hills gave way to lower plains. It would take a long time before they reached Mesnil, but their adventure together would make it worthwhile.

Avoiding the embarrassing situation, Elizabeth sat up straighter, turning her attention to the view.

"I forgot how beautiful everything was outside of my homeland..."

Grimhild's gaze hardened.

"Do enjoy it, Elizabeth, not everything lasts forever."

"I've been out of date with Midgard's problems and politics, so what's the plan? Sneak in Mesnil and approach Lancelot, allowing Grimhild to monologue until they surrender?"

"I don't monologue," Grimhild muttered.

Jean snorted.

"You absolutely do."

"I declare facts. With detail."

Zarutha laughed.

"That's the witchiest way to say 'I love giving speeches.'"

The group fell into a gentle silence again.

The wind grew lighter and the smell of civilization reached them from afar; baked stone, old parchment, and incense began to lace the air.

A village was near.

Grimhild widened her eyes as she stood up atop the carriage, facing up ahead.

"We're nearing a village, it'd be wise to rest, especially for Elizabeth. She's been through a lot today."

Jean nodded his head.

"Yeah, I agree. King Fhiron also needs to restore his mana, so getting food is a must."

"At least you can respect me, Jean." Fhiron said with a distressed look on his face.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, letting the wind wash over her. She still felt fear in the pit of her heart, but it wasn't the same kind that Hel had planted, it was her own. She was afraid of losing control again…

Grimhild glanced at her and watched with silence before she spoke up.

"You're doing well, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth blinked, facing the Witch of Justice.

"What?"

"You survived and want to keep moving forward. That takes more strength than people think."

Elizabeth's lips parted slightly as a smile crossed her face.

"Thank you… Grimhild."

Grimhild nodded, just once. That was enough.

The wagon crested the last hill, and below the road bent toward a village's high wooden gates, wide, weathered, and marked with glowing sigils, protected by barrier magic.

Guards stood posted like statues, unaware of the force rolling gently toward them.

"Let us all get some rest and enjoy some food. We need it after this long day… don't you agree?" Asked Chroliosa with a smirk.

"Humu." Fhiron snickered. "I couldn't agree more, Elufray."