The Elf Who Wants to Eat Pudding
The carriage carrying Ashley and Theorad had barely left the mansion when the elf, alone in the front courtyard, began to chew her lower lip.
Ashley de Pelgaroin.
Judging by what she had said and the force with which she had said it, she was no ordinary noblewoman.
Noble daughters were usually raised like flowers in greenhouses. A small injury was enough to send them into tears. Ashley had been nothing like that.
She had turned on the elf with surprising ferocity.
That was an impressive display of spirit for a young lady of her station. It was also an emotional mistake.
Does she truly like Theorad?
Their exchange in the drawing room kept coming back to her.
If Ashley genuinely hated Theorad, there would have been no reason to become so angry at the elf's words. Yet there still wasn't enough evidence to settle the question.
Ashley's behavior toward Theorad today had been particularly strange. She had scolded the elf for insulting him, been slapped across the cheek by Theorad, and then taken him away, saying he would be punished.
If that display wasn't an act, her anger might simply have come from a noblewoman's outrage at an insolent slave. It did not necessarily mean she was in love.
Should I follow them?
Trailing the carriage might resolve her doubts.
But would it really?
If Ashley was acting, she would surely take precautions against being discovered. The elf could watch her all day and still find no convincing proof.
And if Ashley was sincere, then there was nothing to investigate. The two of them would eventually fall out on their own.
Hmm.
Still thinking, the elf lifted her head.
A few white clouds drifted across the blue sky. The sight was so peaceful that she found herself staring without thinking, watching their shapes slowly shift in the breeze.
Then, for no particular reason, she remembered pudding.
Perhaps the stress had simply made her crave something sweet.
Theorad will be gone for quite a while.
Eating pudding sounded much better than wasting the afternoon on a pointless pursuit.
She looked around to make certain no one was watching, then snapped her fingers.
Crack!
The space beside her split apart like shattered glass. Beyond the fracture, a mysterious darkness stretched into what looked like an endless universe.
The elf stepped into it.
A moment later she emerged, her clothing changed, and the rift vanished as abruptly as it had appeared.
“Well.”
She looked herself over.
An open robe fell to her calves over a short skirt and sleeveless top. High heels completed the outfit, along with a broad, pointed hat decorated with various ornaments.
Her appearance had changed as thoroughly as her clothes.
The shining silver of her hair had turned glossy black. Her red eyes were now dark as graphite, and her pointed ears had shortened to resemble a human's. No one looking at her would easily guess she was an elf.
It's been a long time since I looked like this.
The sight stirred both nostalgia and a faint bitterness.
She summoned an old-fashioned broom into the air and sat lightly astride it.
It had been a while since she'd flown this way, but she remembered the feeling. A brief word of activation was enough to send the broom sweeping upward on a gust of wind.
“Ah…”
Cool air brushed her face. She shut her eyes and enjoyed it.
A badge shaped like a full moon swayed against her chest as she flew.
Engraved on it were the words:
Black Flame Witch — Riya
Of course, Riya was only a pseudonym.
The shop lay in Baron Brenu's territory, in the western part of the Empire.
It sold pudding, and the elf had been fond of it back when she traveled as a witch.
Something was wrong, however.
There wasn't a customer in sight. A few flies wandered about the shop's open serving window.
What happened?
She landed, climbed off her broom, and approached the stall.
The beastfolk shopkeeper, who had been squinting sleepily, looked up in astonishment.
“Lady Riya!?”
The shopkeeper was covered in soft fur and had a face rather like a raccoon's. Their eyes blinked rapidly.
“Is it really you? I must be dreaming…”
“Yes, raccoon. It's me.”
“I'm not a raccoon…!”
“You haven't changed.”
At that familiar bluntness, the shopkeeper drew a sharp breath.
“It really is Lady Riya. It must be nearly twenty years! But why are you here now?”
“Why else would someone come to a pudding shop?”
“Ah… The trouble is, I can't make any pudding at the moment.”
“Why?”
“You know that I use Minotaur milk in my recipe. But the adventurers' guild that supplied it recently went on strike. I haven't been able to get any.”
That explained the empty store.
The elf glanced around the deserted shop.
“So?”
“Pardon?”
“Do you need anything besides milk?”
“Oh, no. I still have plenty of everything else. It's only the milk that's missing.”
“I'll get some. Tell me where to find it.”
The shopkeeper stared at her.
After almost twenty years without so much as a word, this strange customer had returned and offered to hunt down Minotaur milk just to eat pudding.
She had always been difficult to understand. Somehow, she was even more difficult now.
But an offer to save the business was hardly something to refuse.
“Just a moment. There should be a map here showing the places where female Minotaurs live.”
The shopkeeper turned to a cupboard, searched through it, and finally pulled out an old sheet of parchment. After brushing away the dust and checking that it was legible, they brought it to the elf.
“Here. Minotaurs range over a wide area, so you'll need to search carefully.”
The elf studied the map, nodded, and mounted her broom.
She was about to leave when a thought occurred to her.
“By the way, can you make pudding from breast milk?”
“What? Well… maybe? I've never tried, but I suppose it might work.”
“Would ordinary humans be able to eat it?”
“I think so…? Is there someone you want to feed it to?”
The elf considered that for a moment.
Then she shook her head.
“No. Never mind.”
Whoosh!
A gust of wind lifted the broom high above the stall.
The shopkeeper watched her depart, then suddenly remembered something important.
The Dokwol Guild is looking for Lady Riya…
Finding the missing Black Flame Witch had been one of the reasons the guild had been established in the first place.
Twenty years had passed since Riya disappeared, and much of the old enthusiasm had faded. But Dremes, the guild's leader, was still searching for her, convinced that somewhere she remained alive.
Well… I can tell her when she comes back.
A Minotaur was a formidable monster. Even a highly accomplished adventurer could not safely face one alone.
But that was hardly a reason to worry about Riya.
She wasn't called the Black Flame Witch for nothing.
Pares, an apprentice witch, was facing the greatest crisis of her life.
Grrrrrr…
Everything had been going so well.
Her graduation assignment was to obtain an egg from a red-horned bird, a creature known as a Goejo. Difficult, certainly, but with a sleeping spell she had believed she could take one and complete her final requirement.
So why was the creature awake?
I cast the spell. I know I did!
Pares swallowed.
Very, very slowly, she lowered the egg she was holding.
“I didn't mean to steal it. I was only checking whether you were sleeping properly. See? I'll just put it back. We can pretend none of this ever happened.”
She took a cautious step backward, keeping her eyes fixed on the bird.
Her mouth stretched into a desperate smile.
The creature was notoriously violent. Exciting it further was the last thing she wanted to do.
Whether a bird like this could even understand a human smile was another matter.
“Good bird. Such a good bird. I'm leaving now, all right? You stay right there. I promise I won't come back and steal anything…”
The Goejo had no intention of allowing an intruder to leave its nest unharmed.
Keeeeee!
It spread its wings and lunged, its beak snapping.
“I'm sorry! I said I'm sorry!”
Pares turned and ran.
She kept apologizing as she fled, but the monster took no notice. Nor was the steep slope especially kind to a fleeing human's knees.
“Ah—!”
The Goejo's hard beak struck her as she fled.
She was flung off her feet, hit the ground, and rolled through a cloud of dust. Only the base of a tree finally stopped her.
“Oww…”
Pares sat up, rubbing her aching backside.
Then she went still.
A tremendous shadow had fallen over her.
“Eh…?”
The Goejo was looking down at her.
I'm finished.
She had been so close.
One more assignment, and she could become a proper witch. She could finally begin earning enough to afford a home—and perhaps recover something of the outrageous tuition she'd spent on her studies.
All of that effort, gone because of a horrible bird.
Faced with the prospect of dying here, she felt a sudden surge of fury.
“You damned monste—”
Pop!
The Goejo's head exploded.
Blood sprayed outward as its headless body swayed, staggered, and collapsed.
Pares flinched in shock.
A woman in a black robe walked calmly into view, its hem stirring around her legs.
“You.”
Pares raised her head fearfully.
The sun was at the stranger's back, leaving her face in shadow. The woman held out a map.
“Do you know where the Minotaurs are? There should be some nearby.”
“Pardon? The Minotaurs…?”
Pares was answering automatically when she noticed the badge on the woman's chest.
It was a full moon, engraved with the words Black Flame Witch — Riya.
Her confusion gave way to outrage.
“Wait! I'm very grateful that you saved me, and I promise I'll repay you. But you shouldn't impersonate people!”
“Impersonate?”
“Why would you do that? Even children know the Black Flame Witch is a legend among witches. She's a hero to me! Pretending to be someone like that is completely wrong.”
“I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I am the Black Flame Witch.”
“Oh, come on. You might as well tell me our family dog is the Black Flame Witch. That would be more believable.”
The elf was growing irritated.
Explaining herself would take too long. A simple demonstration seemed more practical.
She raised a hand and pointed at the dead creature behind her.
“Look.”
Pares blinked at the carcass.
“At the bird?”
“Can you see it?”
“Yes…”
“What's the difference between you and that creature?”
“Well, the Goejo has had its head blown off, and I…”
Pares stopped speaking.
Cold sweat ran down her back as she slowly looked up at the woman again.
The elf was smiling pleasantly.
“Understand?”
There was no room to refuse.
Terrified, Pares nodded as hard as she could.