>> CHAPTER 09: The Ice Witch
Five hours had passed since Radan had settled beside the unconscious witch. The silence of the tower was almost absolute, interrupted only by the occasional creak of the ice melting slowly or by the wind outside.
Suddenly, an almost imperceptible movement cut through his perception. His telekinetic sense captured something — a light tremor, the displacement of vital energy.
Radan opened his eyes in a quick reflex, his attention instantly turned to the witch. She was also awakening, her light blue eyes opening slowly, confused, staring at the space around as if she didn't recognize anything.
"Hey… are you okay?" Radan murmured, keeping his voice low so as not to scare her.
The witch blinked a few more times, and then her countenance began to reorganize. Slowly, her memories returned, and the confused look gave way to understanding.
She remembered that she had self-frozen to escape the demons that invaded her tower. The memory brought a mix of relief and tension.
"Who are you...? Were you the one who saved me?" She asked finally, with a clear and firm voice, getting up carefully, but without hesitating.
Radan nodded. "Yes, it was me. My name is Radan. And yours?"
"My name is Agatha. I am a witch from the Taqila Exploration Society." She approached him, her eyes avid for answers, and began to ask quick questions, as if she needed to fit the lost time:
"The demons… What happened to them? Did they retreat? Did we win? The holy city… What happened to the holy city of Taqila?"
Radan frowned, surprised and confused by the speed and intensity of the questions. He pointed to the five stone statues around. "Demons? Are these things?"
Agatha cast a quick glance at the figures around, but diverted her attention immediately. "Yes… isn't it obvious? These are demons killed by me." She said, her voice trembling for an instant before regaining firmness.
Radan breathed deeply, trying to organize his own words. "Look… maybe I'm not the best person to answer these questions. I just woke up in this world a little over a week ago, alone in the snow, without memories. I know absolutely nothing and have never heard of this city of Taqila, nor of the demons. But… I have a witch friend. Maybe she can answer your questions."
Agatha opened her eyes, surprised, and let out just a sigh, feeling partially frustrated, but understanding the situation. "So… at least tell me what you know."
Radan paused, thinking about how to simplify better. "Currently, we are in the heart of the misty forest, which is thousands of kilometers from the nearest civilization, the Frontier Village. It is governed by Prince Roland Wimbledon. The village is to the west from here and is part of the Kingdom of Graycastle, which is one of the four main human kingdoms."
Agatha listened attentively, frowning, but did not interrupt. Radan continued, trying to explain something she might understand:
"I know that witches like you are hunted and killed by the church…"
But before he could continue, Agatha exploded, agitated, pacing a few steps and gesturing with her hands. "Absurd! The so-called four kingdoms are just part of the ancient destroyed territories! They have no value for development, in our view! Besides, kings, princes and nobles? A prince ruling a city? Only witches lead cities! This… this was done only in the first battle of the divine will… Witches are being hunted by mortals? Who the hell has that courage?"
Radan remained silent for a few seconds, observing Agatha calm down. Her words, however, kept echoing in his mind.
'The four kingdoms are destroyed territories?'
That made no sense at all.
He knew, from experience and from conversations with Nightingale, that the Kingdom of Graycastle and that of Dawn were extremely prosperous, with thousands of inhabitants and active trade, advancing rapidly.
'Destroyed territories'? Impossible.
And 'only witches rule cities'?
Radan almost laughed at the idea. He saw with his own eyes how Roland Wimbledon reacted when Anna showed her powers — the fear, the tension in the air, the extreme care in hiding everything from the population. Witches ruling? Not even close.
And still… 'First battle of the divine will'?
What the hell was that? It sounded like something ancient, a war perhaps?
But what bothered him most was the fact that Agatha didn't seem to know anything about the Church — the most powerful force in the current world. How could someone be unaware of something so dominant?
He breathed deeply, processing everything in silence. Then, he let out a sigh and looked directly into her eyes.
"Have you calmed down?" he asked with a neutral but firm voice.
Agatha kept her haughty gaze. "Yes, but don't look at me like that. It's disrespectful for a mortal to stare at a witch that way."
Radan arched an eyebrow and let out a small smile. "Mortal, huh?" he murmured with irony.
But without wasting time he said:
"You said the four kingdoms are destroyed territories? Then explain this to me."
He opened the bag, pulled out a carefully folded map and approached her.
Agatha observed him with a mixture of distrust and curiosity while he extended the paper.
"See for yourself."
She took the map from his hands and unrolled it slowly. The paper was well preserved, with precise lines showing mountains, rivers and well-defined borders.
In the center, the names of the four great human kingdoms were written clearly: Graycastle, Dawn, Eternal Winter and Wolfheart.
Agatha analyzed every detail, her eyes running over the routes and the drawn symbols. Gradually, her firm expression began to waver.
Agatha took a step forward, her face paling. "What…? This can't… This can't be right…"
Radan observed her, silent.
"You also said that witches rule cities… But as far as I know, witches are hunted by the Church. They are called incarnations of the Devil and condemned to death. They use a group known as the Divine Punishment Army — I've never seen one. But they say they are strong enough to kill demonic beasts easily."
Before he finished, Agatha interrupted him, her voice trembling:
"Divine Punishment Army...? Wait... this place is... Hermes? No! here should be the city of Starfall."
Radan nodded. "This is the City of Hermes... The capital of the Church. As you see it is to the south of Graycastle."
Agatha took a step back, stunned. "Hermes... but... Hermes is just a mountain... a chain of uninhabitable peaks! The sacred center should be Starfall, not Hermes! This... this doesn't make sense!"
She seemed lost, her eyes moving from side to side, trying to piece together a puzzle that simply didn't fit.
Radan approached, raising one of his hands in a calm gesture. "Breathe. Listen to me."
She looked at him, still confused.
"From what you just told me, there are only two possibilities."
His voice became more serious, and the tone made Agatha stop and pay attention.
"The first..." He paused, with a light smile. "Maybe you're completely crazy."
Agatha shot him a glare, but Radan continued before she could respond:
"Or…" He crossed his arms. "The most likely… Is that you were frozen for a long time. A very long time."
Agatha blinked, surprised, but didn't respond immediately.
"Think with me," He continued. "You said this tower was your research laboratory, right? Then take a good look around."
Radan turned his body slowly, pointing to the cracked ceiling, the rusted metals, the accumulated dust on every surface.
"These materials…" he murmured, touching a worn wall. "From their state, this here was abandoned for decades. But probably for centuries."
Agatha followed his gaze, and for the first time, seemed to really see the place where she was.
The walls were covered in ancient cracks. The magical light crystals were weak, some completely off. That place was destroyed by time.
Radan concluded, in a low tone:
"You're not just out of time, Agatha. I think you woke up in a world that's no longer yours... Of course, this is just a hypothesis."
Agatha remained silent for a while, with her head slightly lowered. She seemed to digest every word, her gaze distant, lost in ancient thoughts and memories that perhaps no longer existed. The air around became heavy, and even the sound of the wind outside seemed to diminish.
After a few seconds, she raised her eyes to him.
"You said you have a witch friend... Where is she? Is she nearby? Can I see her?"
Radan shook his head slowly.
"No, she's in the Frontier Village. I can take you there. From what I know, there are two other witches in the village now. My friend, Nightingale, is taking care of one of them. She said the girl is going through a dangerous process that all witches face... something called Awakening. Nightingale mentioned she's seen several die during this."
Agatha's eyes widened.
"Die... during the Awakening?" She seemed incredulous. "That's impossible! No witch should die in that process. For us, in Taqila, this was something simple to solve."
Radan arched his eyebrows, curious.
"Seriously? How so?"
Agatha crossed her arms, her tone of voice returning to that of someone accustomed to teaching.
"The Awakening happens when the magical power inside a witch reaches the limit. If her body is already full and there's no space for more magic... then yes, she can die. But it's easy to avoid this — just have the witch use her magic normally before the process begins. That way, the power flows and renews. It's something every witch from Taqila learns from a young age."
Radan stayed silent for an instant, absorbing the explanation.
"So... it's as if a witch's body was a bottle and the magical power was the water inside it. When the bottle is full, the water keeps entering until it overflows — or worse, bursts. The witch dies because the body can't handle it."
Agatha nodded. "Exactly."
Radan breathed deeply, crossing his arms thoughtfully.
"So, if the solution is just to empty the bottle a bit, this seems simple... but..."
He paused, remembering Nightingale's words.
"She once told me that, to alleviate the pain of the Awakening, a witch needed to live free. At the time, I thought it was just something symbolic... but now I understand."
Agatha looked at him, curious.
"Understand what?"
Radan raised his gaze, serious.
"The witches of today don't live free. They hide, repress their powers, are afraid to use them because of the Church and humans. They never 'empty the bottle'... they just let it fill until it breaks."
A heavy silence fell between them again. Agatha kept her gaze fixed on Radan, not knowing if she felt sadness, anger or astonishment.
"The witches... have decayed so much?" she asked softly, almost in a whisper.
Radan let out a light sigh before responding. "I wouldn't say they've decayed, but—"
He stopped mid-sentence. His body stiffened, and his gaze rose slowly to the tower's ceiling. For an instant, he stayed completely still.
He had just detected something outside with his telekinetic sense.
Something he had never seen before.
Agatha noticed the immediate change in his expression. "What is it?" she asked, confused, trying to capture what he was feeling.
Radan didn't respond. His gaze now turned to the corner of the room, where the five petrified figures remained motionless, covered in a thin layer of dust and ice. He observed them attentively, comparing every detail — the distorted shape of the faces, the masks on the face and the cylinder on their backs.
Yes. They were the same as the presences he had felt outside.
Turning his gaze back up, he spoke in a low but firm tone:
"Demons... two of them. They're outside... and they're coming straight here."
Without waiting for a response, Radan began to climb the stairs in quick and silent steps.
"What? Demons?!" Agatha exclaimed, the incredulity clear in her voice.
But he didn't respond. He continued climbing, concentrated, his gaze focused on the tower's entrance. Agatha, still stunned, ran after him, the sound of her steps echoing through the interior of the tower.
When they reached the top, Radan pushed the heavy wooden door. It opened with a hoarse snap, releasing a gust of cold wind.
Outside, the gray sky was heavy and motionless. The snow fell in slow flakes, and between it — two dark silhouettes moved quickly through the mist.
Agatha saw the creatures and the blood froze in her veins.
"Demons..." she murmured, her eyes widening.
The figures also immediately noticed them.
"Damn!" Agatha shouted, extending one of her arms and stepping back half a step. "Get out of there!
Stay behind me!"
But the demons were faster. One of them raised its arm and launched a wooden spear, which cut the air with a sharp whistle — faster than an arrow.
Agatha reacted instinctively, creating an ice wall in front of Radan. The sound of the ice forming echoed, but before the barrier completed, the spear was already a few centimeters from hitting his chest.
Then — everything stopped.
The spear froze in the air, motionless, a few meters away from Radan. The tip shone under the sunlight, then it began to spin slowly... Until it turned completely towards the demons themselves.
With a dry and sharp noise, the spear began to spin rapidly at high speed — and in the blink of an eye, it was fired back like an almost invisible projectile. Which immediately Pierced the skull of the first demon with devastating force. The creature's body collapsed, inert, without half of its head.
The other demon roared and tried to retreat, but couldn't. The air around it seemed to become solid — an invisible force held it. The monster writhed, with its bones cracking loudly while Radan, without moving a muscle, squeezed it telekinetically. With the sound of bones being heard clearly breaking, in a dry and terrible way.
Agatha watched everything paralyzed.
Radan raised his hand, attracting the demon to him. The creature stayed floating in front of him, thrashing suspended in the air, and unable to move.
"So..." he said, calmly, as if analyzing something common, "these things are demons? They don't seem very strong."
Agatha didn't respond — she just observed him, unable to believe yet what she was seeing.
Radan tilted his head, studying the monster up close. "Interesting..." He murmured, and extended the palm of his hand in front of the creature's face.
An invisible vibrational wave formed — a sharp snap, and the demon's head simply exploded. The body fell heavy on the snow, like a rag doll.
For a second, the wind was the only thing that moved.
Radan sighed, cleaning the dust from his cloak. "Well... you said you wanted to go to the Frontier Village, right? So let's go?"
Behind him, something approached floating softly — the sled he had left at the base of the tower, which was full, with his hunts now returned as if it had a life of its own.
Agatha continued motionless, her gaze fixed on him. When she finally managed to speak, her voice came out trembling:
"You... you... what are you...?"
Radan turned with a half smile.
"Me?" he said, in a light tone. "A strong wizard
And, of course, very handsome. Don't you think?" He said with a smile and winking at her.
.....