Night. A different sort of time flows here compared to daylight hours. There are moments when the very essence of the town seems to shift.

  Like now. The clamour from the distant tavern fades away, giving way to the chirping of crickets in gardens and the patter of mice scurrying along the eaves.

  The harbour bell tolls eight times, marking the change of the dockworkers' watch. One, two. The first notes ring clear and sharp. Water in a barrel ripples slightly. Four, five. From the edge of the distant forest comes the call of a night-jar. Seven, eight. The bell's sound grows fainter, absorbed by the fog and cobblestones.

  The town now belongs to beings other than humans.

  After my father finished his evening prayers and his creaking footsteps could no longer be heard, I slowly counted my own heartbeats. After forty beats, I carefully slipped out of bed, taking care not to wake Hannah. Listening to my sister's soft breathing, I wrapped a shawl around myself and cautiously descended the stairs, making my way to the garden without a sound.

  The night garden was chilly, as if winter had arrived early. Dew had collected in Mother's herb garden, making the clumps of sage and thyme sway gently. As I passed through, cold droplets dampened the hem of my nightgown.

  At the back of the garden, nestled against the trunk of an old oak, stood a storage shed.

  This time of year, it should have been filled with garden tools, strings of onions, and winter apples wrapped in straw. But tonight was different.

  When I opened the door, Mother was inside. The damp scent of the dewy garden mingled with the dry aroma of the shed.

  As I entered and carefully closed the door behind me, the bright red rowan berries hanging on the inside rustled dryly.

  "Keep them hanging when you're inside," Mother said, moving aside a tool rack and root vegetables. "Rosemary, rue, thyme, wormwood. They all ward off evil."

  "Yes, thank you."

  Looking at Mother, I felt I should have come earlier. I'd left her to do all the tidying herself.

  Having finished storing away flower pots and Father's pruning shears, Mother dusted off her apron. Noticing me, she pulled me close and kissed my forehead. My skin, chilled by the night air, warmed slightly. A candle flickered in the corner of the room.

  "This came from your grandmother," Mother gazed at a weathered box placed in the centre of the shed.

  Even in the dim candlelight, I could see its deep brown-stained wood grain. It looked just large enough that I could carry it with both arms. Perhaps due to the sea air, its sides appeared slightly warped. Upon closer inspection, I noticed there were no nails or metal fittings to be seen.

  "Your grandmother received it from her grandmother. And her grandmother surely the same. It's always been this way when we learn about our power. That's how it's been passed down."

  Mother spoke as if looking into the distance.

  I have memories of playing with Grandmother when I was very small. I haven't seen her in years.

  "It must be precious to you."

  "You can't imagine how many times I've thought of throwing it away," Mother snorted in response.

  Unsure how to react, I let silence fall between us.

  "You said you could see small creatures," Mother suddenly broached the subject.

  I nodded. "Sometimes I see tiny beings in houses. Not just our home, but in other people's houses and gardens too. I saw one at Flannery's house. But it seems only I can see them."

  "What sort of creatures?"

  "They have beards, like tiny old men. When they notice me, they hide in the hearth. Some wave at me."

  "Domovoi," Mother murmured, looking around before crossing her arms.

  I was taken aback—I'd expected her to be sceptical at first.

  "They protect the home. You haven't been teasing them, have you?" Mother's tone was accusatory.

  "No, I haven't! I told the one at Flannery's house—that domovoi?—to be given apples. It seemed hungry."

  "That's good then."

  The hardness left Mother's expression, and I felt a wave of relief.

  Mother crouched before the box and carefully traced its side with her finger. She must have touched a hidden latch, for I thought I heard a faint click. The lid rose silently, releasing the scent of dry wood and rowan berries.

  Inside were small bottles wrapped in linen, numerous little pouches, a brown metal bowl, measuring instruments whose purpose I couldn't determine by sight, and various other tools. Mother efficiently arranged and organised them.

  "You said it seemed hungry?" Mother asked, as if something had just occurred to her.

  "Yes."

  "How did you know?"

  "Because it told me so itself."

  "You understand what the domovoi says?"

  "Sort of... in a way."

  Mother pulled out a bundle of chalk from a bag, examined it, then put it back.

  "So that's why. That's why you suddenly wanted to learn about our power." Her voice sounded calmer now.

  That's why? I found her phrasing puzzling, but she didn't seem opposed to the idea.

  "I'm sorry for acting on my own."

  "Well," Mother took out several books as large as my face from the box, blowing away the dust. "Spirits can be our allies if we get along with them well. They help us stay hidden."

  There was something almost cheerful in Mother's demeanour as she organised the various items. Suddenly, I remembered going to the early morning market with her when I was little.

  ("Choose the most vigorous herbs, Sith. Do you know how to tell? Pick leaves that are deep in colour and seem to repel water.")

  My sister Hannah and I couldn't keep up with Mother's confident movements as she selected herbs...

  It was nice to see Mother so animated. Especially after how downcast she'd been about the witch hunter rumours.

  But I was conflicted. Staying hidden... saying nothing unnecessary...

  When had I first begun to see the domovoi? When had I started hearing strange voices in town? I wanted to know what they were. But not just that.

  "I want to know. About myself, about us. About being witches."

  The words had escaped my lips before I knew it. I thought I saw Mother's ears twitch.

  "I have a friend. Alicia, the one I told you about? I want to be like her. She's always so composed, intelligent, and wonderful. She reads so many books."

  "We don't have that kind of money," Mother replied curtly.

  "Mother, that's not it. I'm not talking about money. I just want to look outward more..."

  "You still don't understand!" Mother cut me off sharply. In the dim shed, I thought I saw a dull light emanate from her eyes. Her intensity made me tremble. I clutched my cape tightly.

  "What's wrong with living quietly and keeping to ourselves? Do you want to say you're unhappy by comparing yourself to others? We're already letting you learn reading and writing with Mr. Edwin," Mother rattled off rapidly. "I told you, we live in the shadows, unseen by anyone. Why let yourself be seduced by the dreams of some wealthy young lady! Why must you trouble me like this?"

  Mother was furious. Something in my words had triggered her.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  My face grew hot and my vision narrowed. Before I knew it, tears were streaming down my cheeks.

  Why do I cry so easily?

  Because Mother is angry?

  No. It's because her words were hurting me, Alicia, and Mother herself.

  I'm scared. I should apologise right away. I'm sorry, it was my fault. I said things I didn't mean. I'll never use the word "witch" again.

  That would mend things quickly.

  "If it's frightening, we need only understand it." That's what Alicia had said. Chained prisoners fear the light. I'm afraid. So what should I do?

  "I think we need to put it into words."

  I swallowed hard and clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms.

  "I just want to face forward in life."

  Through tear-blurred vision, I stared steadily at Mother.

  "I don't want to be seen by others or live luxuriously. I don't want to get in your way! ... I just want to live with confidence in what I do. To walk in the light with my head held high. I want to be able to say, 'I am Sith Cumaill.'"

  Mother said nothing, just silently watching me. The faint candlelight wavered, making her shadow grow and shrink. In the dim shed, only her eyes seemed to have a clear presence.

  My left hand began to tingle sharply. The stinging sensation travelled deep into my body, coursing through every part of me. When it reached my chest, it awakened a succession of sensations within me. A burning pain followed by a cold like being doused with water from a winter bucket. Then it was as if a wind blew it all away, leaving only embers like those remaining in a hearth. They barely smouldered, but were just a little warm.

  My left hand had occasionally tingled since childhood. In that moment, I suddenly understood. This was my power. This sensation was surely Mother's heart. Anger and...

  In an instant, it all vanished. Only Mother and I remained, facing each other in the storage shed.

  "Do as you please."

  That was all Mother said before leaving the shed. In the candlelight's shadow, I couldn't make out her expression. But her gestures and movements seemed no different than usual.

  Left alone, I cried a little longer, biting my cape sleeve to muffle the sound.

  After a while, the tears stopped. Exhausted from crying, even thinking became a burden. I decided to start by organising the tools left by my grandmother and mother.

  From that day, I began training my power.

  ***

  Several days later, one Sunday afternoon after worship, I was taking a walk through town with Alicia for the first time in a while.

  "It's warmer than usual today," I said, holding down Mother's hand-me-down shawl. The sun had been out since morning, making this light attire just right.

  "You look sleepy, Sith," Alicia smiled. The sunlight sparkled in her red hair, making it look even more beautiful than usual.

  "Yes, I've been staying up late recently."

  "Could it be you've been thinking about some charming young man?" Alicia gave a mischievous grin.

  "Not a charming man... but a woman..."

  "Oh? I've read novels like that too. Sith, I didn't know you had such interests?" Alicia's eyes suddenly widened.

  I thought of the storage shed with its flickering candlelight. Mother's angry face. The shadows of herbs swaying on the door. Grandmother's wooden box with its nostalgic scent.

  Was Mother still angry? When we met in the kitchen the next morning, filled with the aroma of baking bread, she said nothing. Neither of us mentioned what had happened. It was always like this after we argued. Thinking back on it made my chest tighten slightly.

  But at the same time, I sensed something else within myself. I had put my feelings into words. Clumsy as they might have been, I felt a small measure of pride.

  I wanted to convey this change to Alicia somehow, but struggled to find the right words.

  "I've... started studying," I said hesitantly.

  "Studying what?"

  "How to explain... power, I suppose..."

  "Pardon?"

  "About myself, really."

  "Well... that's wonderful! Yes! Love certainly takes many forms. Even Socrates and Plato had... same-sex... partners, I believe."

  Seeing Alicia's bewildered expression tinged with embarrassment, I suddenly found her endearing.

  What I am, what powers I possess. I wanted to explain it to her in my own words. I wanted her to know me. I might be ignorant of Socrates and Plato, but I felt I was on the verge of discovering something uniquely mine.

  "When my studies progress a bit more, I'll show you the results, Alicia!"

  Just wait a little longer, I thought, gazing into her eyes.

  "Well... I'm not well-versed in such matters myself..." Alicia's cheeks reddened as she returned my gaze, clearly misinterpreting my enthusiasm.

  "Little puppy!"

  I turned toward the sudden voice to see Flannery waving with a smile.

  "They've completely recovered. The herbs I had displayed in the shop, I mean."

  Flannery's voice was lively, his familiar laugh lines spreading across his face. Alicia, her flustered demeanour from moments ago vanished, gave a perfectly elegant greeting, lifting the hem of her skirt slightly.

  "Hello, the little doll is with you too," Flannery responded, tipping his hat.

  "Little puppy, I placed apple pieces on the hearth just as you said. Every night before bed, I make the request. Since then, my flowers have gradually regained their vitality."

  "Little puppy, what miracle have you worked?" Alicia teased.

  "It's nothing special... I just read it in a picture book my sister has. If you feed the spirits in your house, they'll bring good fortune," I mumbled, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

  "You two are always so close, I envy you," Flannery smiled at us. "Trying it reminded me—when I was a child, my grandmother often did the same. I thought she was being strange back then. Perhaps the spirits really did answer her."

  Flannery enthusiastically described how vibrantly the mint he'd planted at summer's end had leafed out. Alicia responded perfectly, drawing him into conversation. They became quite animated discussing planting sequences, insects beneficial to flowers, and other knowledge I wasn't familiar with.

  After they had chatted for some time, Flannery took two fresh apples from his basket and handed one to each of us.

  "Both of you, please come visit sometime. I'll let you pick as many herbs as you like."

  He returned to his shop with those words.

  As we waved goodbye to Flannery, I found myself curious about Alicia's expression. Glancing over, I thought I saw a shadow briefly cross her face. But Alicia quickly noticed and smiled back at me.

  The bells tolled the end of midday. Clouds dimmed the brilliant sunlight, and the wind carried a wintry chill. The warm day was swept away by the sea breeze, as if it had been merely winter's passing whim.

  ***

  Around the time the usual bell tolled eight times. The hour for power training had arrived.

  During the first few days after beginning my training, I started by taking everything out of the "study box" and organising it.

  At first, I arranged items one by one on the work table. But I soon ran out of space, so I spread an old apron on the swept floor. I began creating an inventory, recording each item in a notebook.

  Ten animal bones, three copper bowls, a brass scale, twenty pieces of chalk...

  These items particularly caught my eye:

  Four bundles of parchment covered with complex diagrams. Seven thick books bound in stiff leather. Three small knives with blunted, blackened blades. When I held these objects, I felt a slight vibration pass through my fingertips.

  There were also sweet-smelling candles, glass bottles, and dolls. The notebook pages filled rapidly.

  Strangely, even though I would neatly arrange everything back in the "study box," when I opened it the next day, the contents seemed somehow different. Nevertheless, after repeating this process about three times, I grew familiar with the tools and began to feel attached to them.

  Having completed the inventory, I turned to the books. Besides volumes with complex diagrams and numbers, there were also guidebook-like tomes about plants and brewing methods. But many contained words I couldn't read. Of the seven books, only three seemed remotely comprehensible.

  Written like letters addressed to someone, they felt like connected stories. I progressed through the pages little by little, reading these books and occasionally organising the "study box" when my concentration waned.

  After reading the first book for several days, I began to grasp what it was trying to convey. Words that seemed to be names of people, countries, or places appeared to refer to something else entirely.

  For instance, there was a story like this:

  Separate, distinct countries began to interact through canals. They started by exchanging goods, then developed common words and gestures. A plant worthless in one country proved to be a valuable medicinal herb in another. Through exchange, things acquired value. And people and countries began to develop roles...

  Suddenly, it occurred to me that these countries connected by canals might represent the human body. And I felt my previous understanding rearranging itself like building blocks. Valuable items weren't exchanged. Rather, the exchange itself created value. The same applied to countries. By connecting, they first became countries. Surely the same was true for people.

  This book was surely telling me to feel these connections.

  Without warning, I noticed my hands seemed to be faintly glowing. The luminescence pulsated like a heartbeat, circulating from my right hand to my left, throughout my body. The more I focused, the clearer I could see the flow. It was dim yet distinct, faint yet powerful. It resembled moonlight streaming through gaps in the storage shed's roof.

  I closed the book, captivated by this spectacle of luminous mist.

  That night, even after returning to my room, I was too excited to fall asleep. My senses were so heightened that I could clearly hear Hannah's breathing and the pitter-patter of mice outside.

  The next morning, I couldn't tell whether I had slept well or not. But I quickly dressed, put on my boots, washed my face, completed my morning routine, and went outside.

  Though the scene was familiar, it was somehow different.

  Threading between the morning sunbeams throughout town, thin wisps of luminous mist floated. This mist extended to the window of the house opposite ours. Following it with my focused gaze, I caught a glimpse of a small creature, similar to what I'd seen at Flannery's house.

  Throughout Ravensbrook, I could see glimpses of the luminous mist. Sometimes at its end I would see a domovoi or similar small being; other times it connected to people or plants.

  Concentrating on the mist revealed things previously invisible to me. For example, some people had mist smouldering around them like smoke—looking closer, I could see they had injured arms. When I focused while immersed in the mist, I could hear sounds or voices emanating from its source.

  Surely this was the flow of power. The same light flowing through my body appeared in others and in the tiny creatures only I could see. And I could sense the beings at the end of these flows.

  Once I noticed it, it seemed to have been there all along, so natural that I wondered why I hadn't perceived these power flows before.

  The world seemed to invert itself, and I felt an overwhelming sense of omnipotence, as if everything fit within my hands. More, I wanted to know more. What could I do? More.

  Suddenly I realised I was looking at the sky. I had fallen backward and was dizzy. My mouth felt sticky. My nose was bleeding. I tried to call for help, but no sound came out. I lost consciousness, surrounded by the spinning sky and mist.

  When I opened my eyes, I was lying in my bed at home. My vision was still blurred from dizziness. From their voices and face shapes, I could tell Mother and Hannah were peering down at me, their expressions concerned, I thought.

  Noticing I had awakened, Mother immediately told Hannah to fetch water.

  I tried to say something to Mother, but my tongue wouldn't cooperate. I attempted to sit up, but everything spun around me and I had no strength.

  "Power isn't infinite," Mother said, wiping my forehead with a cloth.

  "You need to learn control methods. It's all written down properly. Read to the end of the chapter before finishing for the day. And try to avoid going outside as much as possible."

  I wanted to apologise, but could only plead with my eyes. I heard Hannah running back up the stairs.

  "I collapsed like that too, when I first started," Mother said.

  Though she was scolding me, her voice sounded oddly cheerful. Mother's hazy figure... I wondered what expression she wore...

  Hannah brought a bucket of water, but nearly tripped as she entered the room, splashing water on my face.

  After about three days, I could get up on my own again.