Blackbird

At first, the bird flew through the sky, not knowing where it had been born or where it was headed. Whenever Blackbird tried to reflect on her past, her memory always came to an abrupt halt at a certain point, as though she had only been born to assume the form of a bird. Yet she could still sense her past that lay before that specific memory: a hidden history, forever burning in her mind. Her mission had her retrace her steps, all the way back to the beginning. Blackbird questioned the birds, but they merely chirped back; she questioned people, but they glanced at one another, unable to make sense of her words; she questioned the starry sky, yet the stars remained silent. So she wandered the world aimlessly for four hundred years, flying to the farthest reaches of the horizon and walking every inch of the earth—yet she still failed to find even the slightest clue about her past. In the end, she decided to stop the journey that had long since exhausted her. "I'm tired. I want to rest," Blackbird thought. So she accepted Yggash Court's invitation and entered into a contract: Blackbird would use her divination abilities to decipher an ancient, profound prophecy for Yggash Court, and in return, Yggash Court would provide everything she needed. And so Blackbird moved into what is now known as The Witch's House. After wandering for so long, she finally had a place she could call home. Perhaps that old way of life had drained her too deeply, since for the next one hundred years, she shut herself away in a small, enclosed space and seldom stepped outside again. Just when she thought her days would go on like that forever, something shattered the status quo. On an otherwise ordinary day, she reached for an Oracle Stone to purify it, as per usual. The moment her fingers touched it, however, a pain unlike any other overwhelmed her. Yet Blackbird did not give up. Even when the pain made her faint countless times, she kept trying again and again, striving to purify the soul attached to it—not only out of compassion, but also out of a stubborn need to prove her own existence. By the time the pain almost reached its zenith, Yggash Court sent many doctors to examine her, yet none could determine the cause of her illness. From then on, she was left with a lingering condition that she would have to endure forevermore. Even now, whenever Blackbird touches an Oracle Stone, she still feels that searing pain. But unlike before, she has fully accepted it, and perceives it as some revelation. Yggash Court no longer needs to worry over it, either—Lavinia, the specialist ostensibly assigned to help with Blackbird's daily needs, is watching over her and reporting her movements back to them. Blackbird has never voiced any objection to this. Until the work is finished, Yggash Court naturally does not want her falling ill again or leaving, and Blackbird understands completely. Now, Blackbird's life has settled back into peace. With the help of Yggash Court and Lavinia, she has come into contact with many new things she had never seen or heard of before. She tried starting an online divination business, and her work only grew busier from there. It was around that time that the title "Witch" began to spread on Bagel. More and more customers came to her for divinations, and she was happy to use her crystal ball to help people sort out their worries. Seeing her customers smile and hearing their thanks, Blackbird felt a deep sense of fulfillment from the bottom of her heart. Later, a bird came to rest on a branch. The shadows over its fate were scattered by starlight, and it rested there in a calm stillness, waiting for its next journey.

When the first tongue of flame leapt up from beneath her feet, even Merula's lips would not stop trembling. Her naive heroism vanished without a trace in the face of the fate closing in on her. Merula fought back the urge to run, but when the sweltering pain rose through her calves, she truly understood how terrifying death could be. It hurts… it hurts… Her whole body erupted in a raging inferno. Merula wept and screamed. The pain was countless times worse than she had imagined, and all she could do was beg helplessly for help. Her faint voice was drowned out by the song of the surrounding crowd, that mournful singing growing louder and louder, like a tempest. The figures in the crowd, including the Inquisitor, wavered in the shimmering heat. In her haze, Merula saw the Devil leering at her. …I want to become… a real… Witch… Merula pleaded in despair. If there was no escaping this fate no matter what, then if she became a Witch, could this absurd slaughter finally cease? At least… I could save everyone… Merula dimly remembered the Devil agreeing to her bargain, the price being half her soul in exchange. In the next instant, a spark tore free from her chest, now blackened like charcoal. The spark circled in the air, then soared further and further away. Merula forgot everything. Though the surging flames blocked her sight, she remained steadfast, staring blankly in the direction that singular spark had gone. Live on… Once its presence disappeared into the flock of birds and could no longer be found, boundless fear and loneliness replaced her resolve and swallowed her whole. She felt pain again. She did not want to die. She did not want to suffer. She wished to call out for that spark, to beg it to take her away. A tear fell from her empty eyes, then more followed, dripping to the ground and gathering into a river of sorrow. The Inquisitor's laughter stopped. The burning agony subsided. A strange silence fell over everyone. Merula stood dazed at the stake and saw the frightened looks on everyone's faces, and the Inquisitor's face twisted with rage. "Merula… Merula is a Witch…!" It was as if she was a million miles away, the voices barely noticeable. However, it was that distant, far-off line that she would hear again and again for the next several hundred years. A pain unlike fire swept through her body and soul. With great effort, she raised her head and saw a gigantic "cage," vast as the sky, gradually taking shape. Centered on Merula, it fed on her blood and flesh and spread outward without end, as if it meant to shroud the entire world. "The witch hunt" was then brought to a halt, just like that. The furious Inquisitor roared, threatening Merula and ordering her to withdraw this bizarre "cage," but Merula could hear nothing anymore. Her body gradually grew smaller, from a girl into a child, and from a child into an infant. At last, she vanished, leaving not even a drop of blood behind. Driven by the maddened Inquisitor, the deadly blaze burned within the cage for many days and nights. By the time Merula was finally able to completely control her new body, she brought down a rain of blood to extinguish the flames. The town from her memory had long since turned to ash. Across the ground where everyone had once stood lay countless black Oracle Stones. She heard the wailing of souls. She heard the Inquisitor's shrill laughter. It's all right, though. They can never escape again. Merula could only comfort her heart, overflowing with terror and remorse, using those words. No one would die because of the Devil ever again. The Devil that brought calamity would never be able to do evil again. We have no reason to blame a girl so kind, yet so foolish. Poor Merula desperately tried to make up for the disaster she had caused. For hundreds of years, she remained vigilant, guarding against any possible sign of the Devil. She would ensure that people elsewhere would never suffer the same misfortune, that their tears of despair would no longer fall, and for the sake of that pure and naive wish—to become a true savior for all. But where was her savior? Outside the cage, the birds flew for one hundred years, then another hundred. All things slept in the night, and then were awakened by dawn. Only the first second of eternity had passed, and the starry sky still remained the same.

"Birds in the sky never know they are the stars of the day." Long, long ago, I too was once one of those stars. My earliest memory begins with a spark. I remember the sun being so close that everything around me was perpetually burning. Countless birds like me were fleeing in desperation. I heard someone's voice, but I did not dare to look back. I don't know how long I flew. Only when the last flame on my feathers was snuffed out by the wind did I come to rest by a lake, where I saw a patch of black in the water blinking back at me. "Blackbird" became my name. I flew through the sky, yet the birds never saw me as one of their own, never joined me in flight. I walked the earth, yet people saw me as an outsider. They either drove me from their lands or treated me as a divine envoy of portent—because my innate ability to know nearly everything was, to people then and now, both terrifying and irresistible. But I cannot divine my own fate. I can see the past and future of others, yet I do not know where I was born or where I'm meant to go. So I simply followed the wind. I saw countless living beings, and I saw their fates shining beneath the stars. I envied them. They had homes, memories, and somewhere to return to. Their lives were brief, yet straightforward and complete. Birds or humans—everyone needs a reason to exist. So what about me? What was the meaning of my coming into this world? I spent a hundred years flying in the sky, and another hundred walking the earth, yet no matter how I searched, I never found an answer. As time goes on, it slowly wears away many things, including the passion to search for my memories. I have grown tired of this fruitless search. I am weary. I want to fold my wings and stop—maybe even find some place to lie down and sleep, with birdsong and the swaying leaves around me. Sometimes, I wonder if the real me perhaps died long ago, and what now wanders the world is nothing more than a lone spirit.

Long ago, Yggash Court noticed this weary old bird—or, more precisely, her unusual foresight. So, when Blackbird was unsure where to rest, Yggash Court extended an olive branch: if she was willing to help them with one task, they would provide her with a safe place to stay, ample food and water, and anything else she needed. Almost without a second thought, she accepted their suspiciously generous offer. Blackbird had never heard of this so-called Yggash Court before, yet she didn't care. All they wanted was for her to unravel a prophecy's hidden meaning, and solving riddles was what she did best. Yggash Court hadn't lied to her, either. After signing the contract, they led Blackbird to her new home. The moment she stepped inside, Blackbird knew she would spend the next one hundred years there. As if by design, every decoration had been arranged to her liking. Even the chairs were of perfect height. Standing in the room, Blackbird felt, for the first time in her life, like she had finally returned home. Perhaps she had wandered for too long, or perhaps she had grown too attached to the idea of a "home," but after that Blackbird rarely left. She read, wrote, stargazed, and organized her collections. Blackbird liked anything that took a very long time to finish. Time wasn't worth cherishing. That might sound harsh to others, but to Blackbird, life was the only thing she could afford to spend so freely. Perhaps she had been too confident in her own abilities; when Blackbird realized she couldn't finish the work assigned to her so easily, she felt an unprecedented sadness. But only a few days later, she pulled herself together again—she had thought of the possible link between this prophecy and her own fate, and the idea nearly made her tremble. If she could uncover her missing memories, if she could see her destiny clearly… even if the odds were only one in a million, it was a sign of something she had never experienced before. Blackbird then decided to see this humble job through to the end. As for how long it would take to unravel that obscure prophecy, Blackbird was unsure. Yggash Court's terms never specified a deadline. Maybe a hundred years, or two hundred—perhaps even longer. Blackbird always reminded herself, though: "No matter how long it takes, I will finish it."

"I'm Lavinia. Dispatched by Yggash Court, I'll be your guardian from today on." I can still remember the morning Lavinia first arrived. I had just pulled an all-nighter and was forced out of bed, so I listened in silence, exhausted, as she read off those long, tedious terms: "I'll come by at eight every morning, and during working hours I'll stay in the office until seven in the evening. Miss Blackbird—if I may call you that—please don't mind me. If you need anything, just let me know." With that, she gave me a stiff bow, as dull and severe as she was. "How did they describe me to you, Lavinia?" "Miss Blackbird, I trust only what I see with my own eyes." The woman in front of me bowed again, then started to sweep through The Witch's House like a lioness patrolling her territory. "It's a necessary part of my work," she explained, "but I won't enter your private space without permission." She kept her word. For years after that, she never once set foot in my attic. Even when I blasted movies at a ridiculous volume, she never complained. I have to admit, I was quite happy with that. It took us several years to get even a little familiar with each other. I didn't have much need for conversation, and she mostly kept herself shut in the office during working hours. She seemed to treat me more like a coworker than someone she was monitoring. The dining room became the place where we talked the most. "Miss Blackbird, please sit in the chair, not on the table." "Miss Blackbird, don't forget to take your medicine after purifying an Oracle Stone." "Miss Blackbird, there's a document I'll need you to look over later." "Lavinia, if your words were as tasty as your cooking, that'd be great." "Miss Blackbird, I put careful thought into everything I say to you, just as I do with everything I make for you." Every week or two, she'd report my condition to Yggash Court. The Witch's House is a cage, though warm and comfortable… Please don't misunderstand. I have no issue with Lavinia herself or with Yggash Court. They have provided me with everything I could ever need. Until the job was done, they were probably afraid I'd fall ill again like before, or disappear one day without warning. I can understand why they went to such lengths to assign a so-called "guardian" to keep tabs on me. Even going out requires a guardian's permission or escort. But sometimes I think they're a little too cautious. Usually, only supermarket sales can push me to go outside. Still, every so often Lavinia would take me out for a walk—either to the Bureau to file documents, or to handle some other procedure. I wanted to drive, but she never let me. Lavinia and I lived together peacefully like that for a long time. Compared with when she first arrived, our relationship had come a long way—or at least, I think so. She no longer called me "Miss Blackbird," and now and then she'd even strike up casual conversation on her own. She still kept her distance, but I could feel her slowly beginning to treat me like a "real" person. And honestly, I think I'm starting to enjoy being "real."

Blackbird's other "job" was purifying the Oracle Stones scattered across the world. This was not a task given to her by Yggash Court. Instead, back when she wandered the world on foot, she had deliberately sought out those unusual stones. From the first time she touched an Oracle Stone, a subtle pain flared at her fingertips, and so she knew they shared some hidden, profound connection to her past. After entering into a contract with Yggash Court and ceasing her wanderings, she told the birds: if you find these glittering stones, no matter how far away, bring them back to me. Every day, The Witch's House would receive Oracle Stones, some crimson, some black as pitch. Once Blackbird purified them, their murky color would be washed away by a pure light, and the souls churning within them would be set free. Purifying Oracle Stones was as instinctive to Blackbird as searching for her memories. Whenever the souls' cries gradually fell silent, she felt her own heart grow peaceful. The change came on an ordinary day. As usual, Blackbird went to remove an Oracle Stone from a bird's beak. But the moment she touched it, a violent pain unlike anything before swallowed her consciousness. During that brief blackout, she dimly felt the world turn into a sea of fire. Shrieking tongues of flame licked at her skin. She wanted to become a bird and flee, but someone was crying out, clutching her wrist in a desperate grip and begging her not to go. Blackbird could only watch as the blaze devoured her bit by bit. A mourning song drifted from far away, and fear and pain forced a scream from her throat. When she struggled awake, the agony was beyond anything she had ever felt. When her mind finally cleared, she saw the Oracle Stone had dropped onto the floor beside her. Without hesitating, she picked it up again. The pain spread through her body again, like a blaze. Blackbird did not know how many times it made her faint before she finally purified that Oracle Stone completely. "If those souls are enduring such suffering now… then I must purify them all—as many Oracle Stones as I can, as quickly as possible." Blackbird stroked the stone, now clear and translucent, and silently made up her mind. And she kept her word. Far from frightening her, the pain only strengthened her resolve. It took Blackbird decades to grow used to it, from fainting again and again from the agony to purifying a whole Oracle Stone without the slightest change in expression. Even as the pain spread day by day to more parts of her body, even as nightmares filled her with dread the moment she closed her eyes, to the Blackbird of that time, that bone-deep pain was no longer tormenting her. It had become the proof she had desperately craved ever since she came into being: that she had purpose. Blackbird fell into an obsession of compassion. She feared the pain, and yet longed for it with all her heart. The crying in her dreams grew ever more piercing, but Blackbird herself became quieter and quieter. For a long period, she no longer had the strength to manage even her daily life. Yggash Court noticed something was wrong and sent many skilled physicians to examine her, but not one of them could identify the root of the strange illness. In the end, all they could do was prescribe painkillers that treated the symptoms, but not the cause. They attributed it to overwork, and forced her to take leave, ordering her to stop working and rest. During her recovery, Blackbird spent night after night on the rooftop, gazing up at the vast, boundless starry sky. The cold stars still hung there in silence, but this time, in that silence, Blackbird seemed to receive many truths. She learned to use medicine to ease her pain, and began to "purify" herself just as she purified Oracle Stones. When her heart returned to stillness, everything seemed to come back under control. In another dream, Blackbird no longer tried in vain to break free from the person holding her. Instead, she turned and searched for them, then gathered that person into her arms amid the endless fire. The crying stopped. The mournful song vanished as well, replaced by everyone's laughter. Just before the sea of flames completely devoured her for the last time, Blackbird lowered her head and saw a smiling face exactly like her own.

"The Witch's House is a shell that keeps time sealed inside forever." Unlike the old things in my collection room, I'm an "old thing" that's quite happy to embrace new things. Yggash Court periodically sends over supplies they think are necessary, and that includes the phone I use now. I have to admit, it's hard to believe how much the world changed during the century I spent shut away inside. After I learned to use this device, Yggash Court no longer had to keep watch on me all the time, and Lavinia gradually realized her real job was to make sure I actually got back to work. I once set a record by watching horror movies for 58 consecutive hours. If Lavinia hadn't finally lost it and cut the internet, I probably could've gone another 20. I don't think spending so much time on my phone is a bad thing. With this little box, I can stay in sync with the outside world without even leaving the house. I've also learned a lot of new things, like how to drive a car. By the way, I've set and still hold the fastest completion times in several racing games. More than that, I've never slacked off because I was having too much fun—quite the opposite, in fact—I've actually gotten busier. I created an account on Bagel and tried running an online business, and to my surprise, it turned out pretty well. Thanks to where I live and my own mysterious nature, "the Witch who lives in The Witch's House" gradually became known to more and more people. Oh, and "Witch" and "The Witch's House" are the names my friends on Bagel came up with for me and my home. They also made up tons of urban legends about me, and honestly, those rumors are more interesting than my actual life story. The busier my online business got, the more income The Witch's House brought in, and I had more pocket money to grab discounted items on sale days… Don't worry—anything I couldn't finish or use up didn't go to waste. Every so often, I'd box up the leftovers and send them to the orphanage. Even though Lavinia already warned me not to throw things over the wall anymore, I still think it's a pretty efficient method of getting rid of stuff. The only real risk is being mistaken for someone up to no good… But as long as I head out at night and turn into a blackbird in time, almost no one notices me. In any case, compared to the days when I wandered the wilds, I'm satisfied with the peaceful life I have now. If I could, I'd even like to stay in The Witch's House forever… Still, one day the prophecy will be made clear, and the bird that's only been roosting here for a while will spread its wings and take flight again. No matter what fate has in store for me, I will accept it gladly.

Well then, you could probably take the grand prize in a "How Well Do You Know Miss Blackbird?" contest by now. I've rambled on quite a bit—I hope you haven't gotten tired of it yet. I'm honestly surprised that anyone would be so deeply interested in my story, and it's left me a little flustered… Truth be told, I hadn't planned to write this much. My past has been long and rather dull, like a tedious, predictable movie with no climax worth waiting for. If I were to record every story from those hundreds of years, it might take about the same amount of time all over again. So I picked out just a small part to write down, and I hope I didn't bore you to death. In the life I've lived, I've seen countless meetings and farewells. To me, people and birds are much the same—both only rest on a branch for a mere moment before quickly leaping into the boundless sky. I never expected to meet you, but I've already prepared myself for any parting the future may bring… Ah, please don't misunderstand. That's just the usual way a diviner thinks. One day, you'll go where you need to go, and meet all the people you need to meet. Our paths have crossed for only a moment, but being able to open my heart to you like this means more than I can say. I can't see your past, but I can see that your road ahead will shine bright like the stars. No matter where fate leads us from here, I sincerely wish you happiness. In any case, since our fates have already been decided, please don't worry too much about what I've said. At least in this moment, as you read these lines, I'll be by your side, sharing these feelings with you.