Séraphine fought her body's desire to sleep, a symptom of her mental exhaustion, but stopping was not an option. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to continue. Now, the world seemed to disappear, leaving only the corpse in front of her.
"The fourth gesture..." Séraphine's lips were parched at this point, with a few small drops of blood.
Despite the trembling in her hand, she carefully made the last gesture. She raised her middle finger, which could be considered rude, and touched the chest area injured by her attacks.
Apart from its offensive meaning, this gesture was a spell in magic that induced the heart to beat much faster. It could have been simple, but none of the gestures in this sequence were simple. They could be considered intermediate in level of difficulty.
In this ritual, the fourth gesture may not have been related, but, as it was connected to the heart, it seemed to link the other gestures to the spiritual world. This finally produced the desired effect, but her heart still accelerated, making her feel like she was running out of air.
As Séraphine finished the sequence of four magical gestures, the Spirit Servant's body transitioned from solid to translucent and gradually became blurrier until it disappeared completely.
His disappearance was so simple that it seemed unreal compared to the difficulty of the expulsion spell. However, he left behind the flaky ground with slight tremors, similar to breathing, caused by the remaining corruption on the site. Simply put, his existence was no longer a part of the real world.
"Four gestures...separately, a different spell, but together... magic is wonderful," Séraphine muttered between gasps, carelessly using a handkerchief to stop the constant flow of blood from her nose. Something different shone in her eyes: the desire to explore.
She may have had mundane hobbies and pastimes as a witch, but she never lost the spirit of exploration that all magic users possess. She learned this strange expulsion ritual from her teacher and felt a shiver of pleasure when she saw it work before her eyes.
Though her thoughts gradually drifted to Lady Osmond, her teacher since she was seven years old, causing her mood to darken slightly, a smile appeared on her bloodied lips due to her nonstop use of magic.
"So many questions to ask..." This time, Séraphine could not bear the ailments afflicting her. She had no choice but to endure the worst in silence and total darkness because she had extinguished the light she had created.
In the darkness of an unfamiliar, empty place, she could not help but feel a pang of fear. It was not terrifying things beyond the veil of reality or spiritual entities, but rather the deepest fear of every human being:
Loneliness. In this suffocating environment, Séraphine felt a deep sense of loneliness. Although she pressed herself against the wall for support while sitting on the floor, this psychological comfort did not help much.
The loneliness was like a snake writhing inside her. Due to her current state, caused by her spells, the discomfort was more physical than mental.
Plunged into this darkness with nothing but her mind and no comforting voice like her teacher's to guide her in completely dark environments, flashes of memory assaulted her. First, she saw the creature she had just killed, which made her feel guilty even though she knew she had done the right thing as a witch.
This emotion intensified as she recalled the good times with the Spirit Nurse, fragments of her magical apprenticeship, and how, although she grew up comfortably in a wealthy home, she had grown up almost entirely alone.
But most of all, she remembered her teacher, Lady Osmond. She was a middle-aged woman who had taught Séraphine many things, especially how to be a glamorous diva. Thus, Séraphine let time pass as she immersed herself in her thoughts. Two hours passed without her noticing.
She came out of her trance when she heard several voices in the distance. It seemed that police officers were trying to climb up to the third floor. She quickly stood up, wiped the dust off her body, and kept her blood-stained handkerchief in her hat.
"I guess I've rested long enough. Magic has so much power, yet I can't hold onto any of it," said Séraphine. She walked toward the voices, which were coming from the collapsed stairs.
Her melancholy and sadness disappeared, her posture straightened, and with a bit of lipstick, she regained her characteristic glamour. It was simply in her nature to be as presentable as possible around others.
After all, Witches are half magic and half beauty.
𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝𑄝
The sun shone over Blume, clearing the city's cold and darkness and bringing a new kind of activity and vitality. Many people got up early to start their daily chores, though some people did not.
Like Séraphine. Even though the sun's rays came through her window and fell on her face, she resisted waking up. In addition to the light, a sound burst into her room:
She heard birds singing, the sound of vehicles passing by, and the cheerful voices of children walking to school. Séraphine did what anyone could do in this situation: she put her pillow over her head. But she had already lost the desire to sleep.
"Damn day!" she complained, but her voice sounded different from last night's sensual tone; it was hoarse.
She then sneezed several times and blew her nose with a handkerchief on the bedside table. She barely managed to sit up in bed before she started coughing and sniffling, exhibiting several typical symptoms of a cold.
She squinted, barely enduring the room's glare. Her head hurt less than last night, but now her body ached as if she were sick. Roughly speaking, with the symptoms she had, who wouldn't doubt that she was suffering from a cold?
She even felt feverish. However, having been accustomed to the fiery flow of aether coursing through her body since childhood, the fever was almost comforting, despite being another sign of her weakened state.
Her hair was completely disheveled, covering part of her face and resembling a bird's nest. She wasn't a fan of wearing makeup, but her face was pale and her eyes were slightly bloodshot due to her current state.
She looked at the clock on her nightstand. It was 8:23 a.m.; the day had just begun. Wearing only black shorts and a tank top that barely covered her ample bosom, Séraphine strolled to her balcony and looked outside.
She lived on the seventh floor of an apartment building in a decent neighborhood in Blume, so her balcony view was quite good, especially of the tall buildings in the distance.
Blume had a different charm by day than by night. There were more people, some of whom looked hurried as they walked the streets, men in suits and hats and women in professional dresses, all on their way to work.
Séraphine also saw noisy children being escorted by a uniformed figure across the street, away from the increasingly popular automobiles.
But at that moment, she felt a strange, foreboding throb, and her pupils contracted uncontrollably as the reality around her began to change, to unveil itself as it was.
Unlike the normal activation of her Vision, these sudden attacks were the core of her ability. For now, it remained a curse that had afflicted her for almost seven years.
The tall buildings she could see from her balcony began to deteriorate. The cloud-covered blue sky turned into a colorful chaos, and the soft white clouds transformed into loathsome tentacles that flailed endlessly.
Bizarre geometric figures covered the streets, full of repetitive and incomprehensible fractals spreading all over the ground. Just a glimpse of such a chaotic sight would make anyone dizzy, including her.
Even her balcony changed; the railing was filled with brown, thorny vines that wiggled like snakes and had several blossoming buds growing from them.
But these blossoms were chunks of bloody flesh that throbbed steadily as they opened their petals of loose skin. She tried to back away, but her clothes turned against her. A drooling, fang-filled mouth emerged from her blouse and tried to bite her head off.
Her shorts had turned into a slimy green creature that threatened to spread to her torso and the rest of her legs. However, she didn't attempt to remove her old clothes when her attention was drawn to something far more important and threatening.
A huge creature, taller than the building she lived in, was walking toward her. Although it had a humanoid form, it was obvious that it was anything but human.
Séraphine slowly backed away, avoiding harm to her clothes. She lay down on her bed, which had become a nest of maggots that stung her skin. She endured the sickening sensation accompanying her pain and tucked in a piece of festering skin that had once been her sheet. Only her green eyes, which now glowed, looked outside.
The giant entity stopped in front of her building, and soon, a huge eye appeared outside her former balcony. It was a completely red, inhuman eye. She knew this creature had sensed her and come to take a look at her.
This outburst of her curse was much longer than last night's. This time, she didn't have her hat handy, nor did she have any more of those potions left to suppress it.
At least she didn't hear the annoying, disgusting whispers. The huge entity watched her. Séraphine did not dare avert her gaze, not wanting to provoke any change.
After what seemed like hours, the world began to come together again, layer by layer. The weird things recovered and returned to their normal appearance. Even her clothes returned to their original state, and the bites on her body disappeared as if they were a mere illusion.
Séraphine remained silent, covered by her sheet, as the noise from outside reached her. Glancing at the clock on the bedside table out of the corner of her eye, she saw that only five minutes had passed, almost no time at all.
But her mind was still processing what had happened. This attack had been by far the most dangerous one. While not the most disturbing or terrifying, it instilled the most fear of death in her.
She felt that eye's avid desire as it looked at her, an unparalleled greed for her. For some reason, however, it did not act upon her, unlike her garments, which tried to harm her.
After several minutes, during which her heartbeat returned to normal, Séraphine sat up in bed again. This time, however, she did not approach the balcony. She was still trembling at the thought of her curse being unleashed again and did not want to go through the same thing in such a short period.
To relax, she decided to continue with her morning routine. She bathed, dressed, and prepared a simple breakfast for herself. The newspaper was in her mailbox at the front desk of the building, so she made a brief trip to retrieve it.
As she ate a piece of toast and enjoyed a cup of hot coffee, Séraphine looked with interest at the news published in the paper. As always, her beautiful image appeared on the front page.
[Miss Rohan helps the police again.]
The headline read, "Miss Rohan Helps the Police Again," accompanied by a picture of her at the scene last night. The color photograph showed her at her finest.
[New Promise in Town: Officer Duval Is the Warrior We Needed.]
Séraphine squinted as she read this news item several pages later, remembering that Officer Norman, though his actual rank would be police detective, mentioned this last name.
"Looks like the rookie is attracting attention. Although this angle doesn't do her any favors, she has nice legs," Séraphine murmured as she looked at the woman in the photograph.
Although the photo was small, her features were discernible: a slender, blonde woman holding a warhammer that appeared to be quite heavy in her right hand. Despite the poor quality of the photo, Séraphine was interested in the girl's thighs, feeling that they matched her particular taste.
"Hmm, a warrior. Didn't the army find her first?! Looks like Chief Norton hit the jackpot."
Séraphine clicked her tongue before continuing to read the paper. She remembered finding some of the news quite interesting.
These seemingly idle and meaningless actions helped her regulate herself, and she regained her good mood when the clock finally reached 9:00 a.m. By then, she was waiting for something in front of the entrance to her building.
Her current clothes were a far cry from her ostentatious appearance from the night before. She wore black pants and a white shirt that was not quite buttoned up, showing off her ample cleavage.
Some passersby were inevitably attracted to her beauty, but when they saw the witch's hat on her head, they looked away. No one wants to look like a pervert in front of a witch.
Luckily, Séraphine didn't have to wait long because the same car that had brought her to the scene of the crime last night stopped in front of her. Tania appeared in the driver's window and greeted the witch.
"Your dear driver is here, boss!" Tania exclaimed before opening the passenger door, allowing Séraphine to enter the car.
"Yes, let's go to my agency. We have business to do," said the witch before resting her legs on the dashboard as an act of muscle memory.
Séraphine watched the world pass by at an accelerated pace while reminiscing about the seven years she had suffered because of her curse.
Although beneficial because of the vision, these seven years had been filled with terror for her because of an accident that occurred when she was twelve. For some reason, she could not remember anything about the incident, only her teacher's cold purple eyes staring back at her.
Her mind stopped wandering when she came to a storefront on a busy shopping street. Although the neon sign was off, the main sign above the entrance said everything you needed to know:
[Detective Rohan's Agency]
Her Business. Séraphine saw the premises, and a feeling of pride filled her heart. She knew that this place was the fruit of all her hard work thus far.
"Time to get to work," she muttered before getting out of the car. She knew today would be a busy day and that she might witness some interesting things.
That's what her intuition was telling her.