Theatergoing Witch

o1. animal; Owl o2. color; Pink. o3. month; May. o4. song; Sleeps with Butterflies o5. number; 0 o6. day or night; Night o7. plant; Moss o8. smell; Hazelnut, lavender and old book smell o9. gemstone; Topaz. 1o. season; Spring. 11. place; Library. 12. food; Tiramisu. 13. astrological Sign; Taurus. 14. element(s); Air. 15. drink; Hazelnut coffee

Now this was a presence Featherine hadn’t felt in quite some time. Bright…optimistic…seemingly small at first. A wielder of shields rather than swords, ascending through harsher trials than most mortals could. And with how popular he’d gotten, the witch doubted that even she would be able to harm his existence now - to hold such a defense was an incredible thing indeed.

Of course, she wouldn’t ever want to, or have any reason to harm this one. She probably wouldn’t say it out loud unless the situation called for it, but of all the pieces in the golden games, Sakutarou could very well have been the one she respected the most.

And now that this being had entered her library, she would come to him herself, rather than send the usual royal guard escort. The witch may have been old, but she was by no means lazy - she was still clearly capable of old-fashioned movement.

Besides, a little stroll never hurt anyone. It’d be a nice change from the constant teleporting. Bringing her stick along, one could hear little ‘clunk’s echoing throughout the massive library. She knew her way around exactly, and it wasn’t long, after rounding a few corners here and there, before she found herself towering over the little one.

"It has been…quite a while, has it not? Or, did our paths cross at all? I am afraid memory fails me here, as it feels as though I have known you for such a long time, yet I cannot seem to recall any time we may have spoken in particular." This was sometimes an issue with knowing the background of every character in a particular game intimately, yet only revealing herself to a select few.

daisong

In truth… No matter how many times he’s been met by them, Sakutaro is still afraid of Witches. Chalk it up to his cowardly nature — now that the safety net made by Maria and Beatrice is gone, he has to rely on his own intuition when evaluating possible threats, and it suffices to say that most of the meetings haven’t gone particularly well. What irritates them the most, he’s found, is his same cowardly nature in question. (Though some have found joy in his reaction to their bullying.)

That’s the reason why he’s so nervous to be here. Were this any other occasion, he would be wonderstricken and would gladly explore, but this place can’t possibly be anything but a Witch’s domain. It’s dangerous to be here without permission or warning (or so he thinks) and he doesn’t know what to do, frozen in place until the faraway thunking noise he’s overlooked is mere feet away. Most would hide or flee; the little lion boy stays fixed in place, positive that this is most likely the last mistake he’ll ever make. Such a massive magic signature couldn’t mean anything good, surely. 

…But it’s familar, somehow. He can’t pinpoint why.

She’s a lot taller than he expected, but it’s not surprising. What is surprising is that she knows him —— or thinks she knows him, or seems to think so. Either way, he can’t reciprocate the notion… He wishes he could. It would make this a lot easier. 

"I… don’t think we’ve met, uryuu…" 

Not that Furniture of the mortal world would have many chances to meet the Witching World equivalent of God, but the fact that he’s never met Lambdadelta or Bernkastel in person should be an indicator of how unfamiliar this is to him. The first Witch of the Senate he’s met, and she’s possibly the most powerful Witch in existence. Isn’t that gold-star worthy? Maria would be proud, if she were here.

"I am Featherine Augustus Aurora, Witch of Theatergoing, Drama and Spectating." she spoke, giving a gentle, yet somehow still authoritative tone, in the same way an old wizard in a fantasy novel might speak to a halfling. Maybe authoritative wasn't quite the correct word - mysterious may be better. "And if you had not already figured it out, you seem to have stumbled into my library."

For a moment she paused, realizing that the little one seemed rather nervous. "Do not be so uptight. I have no intention of harming you, little one."

"And I am supposing an explanation may be in order as to how I knew of you, little Sakutarou." she continued, "You see, while we may have not met, I read and watched over many of the Golden Games, and even participated in the last few in a minor way. At the time, I had dedicated myself to solving those mysteries, and I found the answers, with the help of someone you may know and are close to - Ange Ushiromiya. For the latter half of those games, she was my cute little miko, reciting to me the writings those games were contained in so she herself could come to her truth. While ultimately I knew of you through all of the games you were present in, you could say that I may well have put her on the path to making your story a legend. Of course, that is not to rob her of proper credit."

"I enjoy your view, child. It was simply a matter of curiosity, of no true importance. Us witches can be rather curious folk, after all. You may wander away if you wish - I would hold no ill will towards such - however…I do have in my possession most all alcohols and teas currently known and invented, fictional or otherwise, that I would be quite willing to share for the time you decided to stay awhile and recite to me your story."

One such bottle of wine floated gracefully from a faraway shelf to the witch’s reach and poured itself into a glass that hadn’t been there just a second ago.

He scoffed at the offer of drinks—as if that alone would tie him down here. Besides, it wouldn’t do for a wildcat such as himself to drink down leaves and poison… There was no need to regurgitate anything out of his system just yet. “STILL, importance is in th’ eyes’f one who holds it… an’ while it, too, brings up curiosity, it is not as simple as ya think. OR at least I hope ya would watch yer wordin’ like that, ‘specially’f ya so hold a title that involves th’ Concept’f Observation…”

Such a self-musing almost meant for himself alone was punctuated with a sneering hiss. Witches… that was the third time now within a relative present time that he came across a messenger of a Concept. Maurecai made a mental note to really search for his psychic tykebomb—surely she was at fault for such a coincidence?

"SPEAKIN’f words, <Frau> Aurora," continued the monochrome feline with nonchalant disregard, "I’m rather disappointed that ya ain’ know that a story denotes an endin’—I am certainly still standin’ afore ya, ain’ I?"

"You speak on far too many assumptions, both of storytelling and of interpretation," the witch replied plainly, "In fact, most of what you speak is rather debatable. Some of the finest stories told have no true ending - and furthermore, simply because a character survives a story does not mean their story has not ended. Nor does it even truly mean another story cannot begin with them. You yourself should know this better than most, after all, you are but a single character, a mere piece able to be present in many a game larger than yourself."

"Ah, and I am truly sorry if you interpreted my curiosity as purposeful and 'backed by importance' in any way besides that of relieving my own boredom. While, I suppose it would make such a claim technically true, If you believed it was anything more than that, you are mistaken."

A seemingly free spirit, though trapped by certain conditions. A newcomer, unhindered by the limitations of previous fragments, yet consigned to the limitations of his own fragment.

Featherine let the new being into the library. She would welcome him, for now, as she had not recognized his presence or fragment of origin immediately. This may prove to be an interesting meeting.

"It seems you have stumbled into my humble abode, child of…the feline variety."

A tall woman appeared before the new being, complete with rocking chair which she already sat in comfortably, as though she’d been there the whole time.

"I do wonder…how is it you found your way here? Or was it by sheer coincidence?"

Whether it was humble to him was yet to be determined. A place like this demanded grandeur in every manner possible, but Maurecai was no stranger to such regality—no, if anything, this wayfaring stranger felt a bit at home with a setting like this. Reminded him of another vast library, a labyrinthine domain he might call home depending on who he bumped into when his luck ran out during his travels. 

Still, no matter how similar it was—setting, catty smell, and all—it stood that he wasn’t home to begin with. Whether a child of a man or a feline, a guest should be gracious to the host who allows them into their realm. “SUCH a wonderment matters little when adventure is on th’ mind’f th’ one who arrives.”

Of course, a tiger’s idea of guest formalities might so drastically differ from the guest formalities of others.

"I enjoy your view, child. It was simply a matter of curiosity, of no true importance. Us witches can be rather curious folk, after all. You may wander away if you wish - I would hold no ill will towards such - however...I do have in my possession most all alcohols and teas currently known and invented, fictional or otherwise, that I would be quite willing to share for the time you decided to stay awhile and recite to me your story."

One such bottle of wine floated gracefully from a faraway shelf to the witch's reach and poured itself into a glass that hadn't been there just a second ago.