TravelingDreamer
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B7—Chapter 26: Witch Tourism at Its Finest
🕑 Added 2025-10-06 12:54:19 +0000 UTCAfter another three days on the train, we finally reached the Demesne of House Alila and its capital, Alilada. The train station was more than ten kilometers outside the city, and instead of steam buses, there were open and closed carriages ferrying people into town. They were pulled by the same carnivorous horses I first saw back in the outpost of House Jook.
They were larger than regular horses, with stronger muscles and longer legs that allowed them to move quickly without appearing to strain. Their coats were shinier than usual, almost gleaming, and their eyes had a sharp look to them, more like a hunting animal than a farm horse. The teeth gave them away most of all. Rows of pointed predator teeth showed whenever they opened their mouths. Dangerous, but still the most striking animals I had seen so far.
The carriages matched the style of the animals. The wood was painted in dark colors with patterns curling along the sides. Some had carvings of snakes or birds intertwined with vines, and a few had painted eyes that seemed like decoration at first but were detailed enough to feel as if they were watching. The lanterns hanging off the roofs had colored glass, green or blue, casting a strange light on everything.
“No buses?” Mahya asked one guard, a tall, thin guy, as she glanced at the rows of waiting carriages.
“Mechanical transportation is not allowed in the city,” he said. Behind him, one of the carnivorous horses tossed its head, teeth flashing as it snapped at the reins, the driver giving it a sharp tug to keep it steady. The line of carriages creaked and rattled, lanterns swaying with each movement.
We had to wait our turn to board a carriage, but once we did, everything went much more quickly. Those horses were fast. A line of hills half obscured the city, but once the carriage climbed one of them, the whole city came into view.
It was breathtaking. There wasn’t even one ugly box-shaped gray house in sight. Every building was made of wood, and hardly two looked alike. Some were tall and narrow, like watchtowers, while others were wide and low with heavy beams. A few looked as though they had been added to in stages, with crooked extensions jutting out wherever there was space. Balconies leaned over the streets, heavy with potted plants, and shutters carried strange patterns that seemed more decorative than practical. No house was identical, yet together they gave the city a kind of odd harmony, like every builder had been following their own rules, but all part of the same design.
The entire city was lush with greenery. Trees rose in clusters between the buildings, branches stretching across rooftops and spilling shade onto the cobbled lanes. Flowerbeds crowded doorsteps, thick with unfamiliar blooms, and vines crawled up walls, wrapping around beams and chimneys as though the wood itself had sprouted roots. It seemed as if the greenery grew up with the houses, rather than the plants being planted later, so each house blended into the living backdrop. The air carried sharp floral scents.
The streets were relatively narrow, wide enough for two carriages to pass with care but no more. Most of the people were on foot, moving in small groups and chatting quietly, while others rode horses or large cats. The cats walked on the streets with the people or between them, and nobody seemed to mind. Smaller cats lounged across saddlebags or rode perched on the riders’ shoulders, blinking slowly at passersby, or sat on windowsills or roofs. They came in every size, from the ordinary house cat that might curl up on a windowsill to great lion-sized beasts without manes, their sleek bodies rippling with muscle. Many were black, though I caught flashes of gray, white, orange, and spotted coats weaving through the crowd.
Birds were everywhere. They wheeled above the rooftops in swirling flocks, wings flashing as they cut across the sky. Their calls overlapped into a constant chatter, sharp cries, and softer coos blending into a city-wide chorus. Most were black, but every so often a wing caught the light and shimmered with green or purple. Some settled on tree branches, their claws scraping bark, while others lined up along fence rails, roof ridges, and even the shoulders of weathered statues. They came in every size, from sparrows darting like sparks between chimneys to heavy crow-like shapes that landed with enough weight to make tiles shift. Each time a carriage rattled by, the flocks stirred in unison, wings snapping open all at once, and a wave of calls rippled through them like a report being passed from bird to bird.
It took me a few minutes before I noticed the snakes. At first, I’d only seen a few coiled around people’s shoulders or draped over forearms like living jewelry, but once I started looking, I realized there were far more of them in the trees. Snakes wrapped around branches and stretched across beams, their tongues flicking in and out, tasting the air. A few were black, their scales gleaming like polished stone, but most came in vivid colors—emerald, copper, gold —with patterns that seemed to shift as the snakes slid through the leaves.
Rue noticed them too. His ears perked, and his tail wagged harder with every snake he spotted. He leaned forward in the carriage, licking his chops as if he had just seen a buffet. A couple of snakes in a nearby tree lifted their heads at the same time, tongues flicking faster, eyes catching the light in a way that made them look almost reflective.
I caught Rue’s muzzle before he could lunge and pulled his face toward mine. “Don’t touch the snakes. They look like they belong to people.”
“But Rue like snake!” he whined, voice stretching into a sulky protest.
“I understand, buddy. But think for a minute. If we reached a world where the people eat dogs, and one of them wanted to eat you, how—”
I didn’t get to finish. Rue’s growl rumbled out low and sharp, vibrating in my chest. The snakes stilled. The carriage driver jolted in his seat and nearly dropped the reins, head turning sharply toward the noise. Even the birds above fell quiet for a heartbeat, the sudden silence almost louder than the chatter before.
I jabbed a finger at Rue. “That’s my point exactly. I don’t know if those snakes are familiars, companions, pets, or something else, but they’re not wild. No eating, catching, or killing the snakes. Got me?”
His tail sagged. He hung his head, gave a long sigh, and nodded. “Rue no eat snakes.”
He sounded so miserable when he said it, I had to wrap my arms around his thick neck and hug him to lift his mood again. Behind us, a crow gave a single, sharp caw, like it was marking the end of the argument. A few others answered from the rooftops, their wings shuffling as if they had been listening the whole time.
I glanced around and added, “Also, no chasing the cats. They definitely belong to people.”
Rue froze, then looked at me with a betrayed expression, his ears flattening and tail giving a single indignant thump against the carriage floor. His outrage rolled through our bond like a hot wave, prickling the back of my neck.
“Don’t look at me like that. Remember the cat Daran you met in Lumis?”
Rue’s ears twitched, and after a long moment, he gave a reluctant nod, followed by a sigh heavy enough to ruffle the fur on his chest. He got my point, but I pressed it anyway. “He’s a cat, and you had fun with him. Those cats are like that.” I wagged my finger at him again for emphasis. “No chasing the cats.”
Rue let out a theatrical groan, then lifted one massive paw and set it on my lap. “Rue understand. No catch snakes. No chase cats. No have fun.”
I couldn’t help it; I burst out laughing. “Smartass.” Reaching over, I scratched behind his ear until his tail started wagging again, though slower this time, more grudging than joyful. Overhead, the crows croaked, harsh and mocking, as if they were laughing at us.
Rue’s ears twitched. He let out a short, sharp growl that rolled up from his chest, and the noise cut through the racket. The birds went silent all at once, wings shuffling uneasily on the rooftops. Rue gave a decisive nod, satisfied with himself, and his tail picked up speed again, thumping against the carriage boards with a steady rhythm.
Mahya kept glancing around with a puzzled expression, her eyes darting from the houses to the animals in the streets. Finally, she leaned forward and asked the driver, “How come the city is so different from all the other cities?”
He gave her a look as if she had just asked why the sky was blue. “Because of House Alila.”
Mahya arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. “And what is that supposed to tell me?”
The driver looked even more baffled, reins twitching in his hands. “House Alila are witches. Every person with the witch gift is immediately accepted into the house.”
The entire city made sense now. I tilted my head back and searched the sky, half expecting to see what I’d always pictured, but sadly, not a single broom in sight.
“Where are the flying brooms?” I asked.
The driver turned his head so sharply he nearly dropped the reins. Mahya and Al both stared at me too, like I had just said something insane.
“What?” I asked.
“Brooms?” the driver repeated, his eyebrows climbing toward his hairline. “Why make brooms fly? Brooms clean the streets, not the sky.”
Mahya burst into uncontrollable giggles, covering her mouth with her hand but failing miserably to stifle them. Al was still staring at me, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief.
I waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind.”
When Mahya finally got her laughter under control, she wiped at her eyes and said, still grinning, “Lyura never flew on a broom. Where did you even get that idea?”
“She was a new witch; it doesn’t count,” I muttered.
That only set her off again. She kept giggling, shaking her head, clearly enjoying herself at my expense. Al sat straighter in his seat, brow furrowed. When Mahya’s giggles refused to stop, the corner of his mouth twitched, and he gave me a look like he was fighting hard not to smile. I let them both have it. Better Mahya laugh like this and Al relax for once than deal with one of her fiery, aggressive moods.
The city was shaped like an hourglass, with the upper part located in the west, three times smaller than the larger part in the east. The two halves were connected by a wide road that was almost swallowed up by dense trees arching over it. The greenery made it look more like a hidden path through a forest than the main artery of a city.
The driver lifted a hand and pointed toward the western section. “That area is out of bounds for visitors. Only witches can go there, and only after being accepted into the house. Please don’t try to go there. You’ll be stopped with due prejudice and might even be arrested, or thrown out of the city.”
We exchanged uneasy glances. That was very bad news, considering the Gate we were aiming for sat smack dab in the center of the western part.
The driver caught our look, his face tightening. His tone dropped lower. “Don’t try to go there. You might even be killed.”
Mahya leaned forward and patted his shoulder lightly, her smile doing nothing to hide the edge in her voice. “Don’t worry. We don’t want to be arrested or killed. We were simply surprised that we might be arrested for visiting someplace.”
He didn’t look convinced but gave a grunt and flicked the reins, letting the matter drop.
The carriage rolled on until it brought us into the heart of the main section. A vast square opened before us, crisscrossed with paths and filled with intricate flowerbeds arranged like woven carpets. Colors bled into each other in spirals and sharp edges, reds pressing against deep blues, yellows edging into white. I could sense mana from the flowerbeds, but it didn’t feel like nature mana. It had that same buzz under the skin, but the tone was wrong.
Once we paid the driver and climbed down, I headed straight to the nearest flowerbed, crouching to get a better look. My fingers hovered just above the blooms as I circled slowly, trying to pin down the strange mana rolling off them. It was familiar in a way I couldn’t quite place, and of course, my curiosity was driving me insane until I figured it out.
Mahya joined me, walking the curve of the bed in the opposite direction, her sharp eyes tracing the design as if she expected the plants to rearrange themselves at any moment. Al, meanwhile, bent close to the blossoms, practically glowing with excitement as he exclaimed in delight over the quality of the plants. According to him, every one of them was a potion ingredient, and quite rare ones at that.
“Sons of bitches!” Mahya suddenly shouted, then glanced at Rue and softened her voice. “Sorry, Rue, but I mean it in a good way.”
“What?” I asked, straightening up.
“I’ll give you a minute. You’ll see it too.”
She stepped back a few paces, folding her arms as she waited. I frowned, then walked back beside her, looking not at the flowers individually but at the entire bed as a whole. And then I saw it.
The flowerbed wasn’t just decoration. It was a ritual circle, perfectly laid out in petals and stems, the plants themselves forming runes and lines of magic script. I didn’t know some of the symbols, but I recognized enough to feel the hair rise on the back of my neck. One of the main circle designs was clear as day—a seven-tipped star.
I spent the mana to learn the runes and symbols I didn’t recognize, the knowledge sliding into place with a faint burn behind my eyes. At the same time, I felt small pulses of mana coming off Mahya and Al as well, like sparks flickering in the air around us.
“I thought you don’t care about runes and script?” I asked Al, glancing at him. “When we worked on your house, we practically had to sit on you to make you learn.”
Al drew himself up straighter, lifted his nose into the air, and gave a sharp sniff of disdain. “It is not the same.”
Mahya tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at him. “What’s the difference?”
Al’s gaze shifted between the two of us, his mouth tightening before he finally spoke. His voice carried the particular tone he used when he thought the answer should be obvious. “It is plain. These circles are connected to plants, not to some tedious construction project.” He waved a hand vaguely toward the flowerbeds as if the difference was self-evident.
“Hey,” I cut in, frowning. “That tedious construction project was your house.”
Al gave a dismissive shrug with one shoulder. “Nevertheless, I stand by my words.”
All of us had to quit after studying only one flowerbed, each of us rubbing at our temples with the same mild headache.
“We should come back here to learn the rest,” Mahya said, pressing a hand to her brow.
I nodded and hummed in agreement, still blinking away the dull throb behind my eyes.
Al turned his head toward her, his lip curling in disdain. “Stating the obvious does not make you sound intelligent.”
Mahya flared—literally. Not in the metaphorical way, but in a visible, physical way. Her face flushed crimson, her nostrils flared wide, and a ripple of heat radiated off her so strongly I felt it from a step away. “Who the hell do you think you are?” she snapped.
“That was stupid,” I sent to him telepathically, teeth clenched.
He ignored me, lifting a hand and pointing toward Mahya with perfect calm. “I have merely reinforced my point regarding our conversation on the train. You should seek a water stone. As you can see, the potion alone is insufficient.”
Mahya’s fury vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared. Shoulders slumping, she turned away from us with a sharp shake of her head.
“I still think it was stupid,” I sent to Al again.
He gave a slow shrug, gaze following Mahya without regret. “I stand by my methods,” he sent back.
“You’re doing a lot of standing today,” I shot at him.
Al blinked, staring at me for a long second until the meaning sank in. The corner of his mouth twitched upward, barely there but unmistakable.
Success.
I pulled both of them in with a hand on each shoulder, squeezing until they stopped glaring at each other. “Settle down, kids. Instead of bickering, let’s find a place to stay.”
“And lunch!” Rue added, giving a decisive nod.
“And lunch,” I echoed, grinning at him.
There were quite a lot of inns around the square. The whole place looked like the tourist district, packed with the kind of setups meant to squeeze coin out of visitors. Stalls and shops lined the edges, their windows cluttered with bottles of brightly colored potions, bundles of dried herbs, and little trinkets that promised good luck or protection. Candles burned in every shade imaginable, some shaped like animals, others dripping with glitter that caught the light.
Several houses had wooden signs swinging out front, painted with bold symbols and hand-scrawled promises: fortunes read for a few coins, charms to help you find love, potions to cure bad dreams, powders to guarantee a restful night, even one that boasted it could bring back a lost pet. A woman at one doorway waved a bundle of smoking incense in slow circles, beckoning passersby inside, while across the street a man in a tall hat tried to lure a couple into his shop with the promise of “authentic witch services.”
It had the same air as any other tourist quarter: lively, colorful, and just a little desperate. But here, everything leaned into the same theme, as though the whole district had agreed to sell mystery in as many flavors as possible.
But despite all that, the most interesting were the inns. Every single one had a big sign hung out front that said either “haunted” or “not haunted.” What completely confused me was the fact that the haunted inns charged double.
Who wants to stay in a haunted place?
I got my answer a second later. Mahya pointed at the best-looking inn, its shutters painted bright red, with a “haunted” sign swinging above the door. “Definitely haunted.”
Al gave a sharp nod, his version of enthusiasm. For him, it was the equivalent of jumping up and down and clapping like a child.
I stared between the two of them, completely bewildered. “Seriously?”
The three of them nodded. Rue too. The traitor even wagged his tail.
“Why?” I asked, throwing my hands up.
“Oh, come on,” Mahya said, bouncing on her toes, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’s not something I ever saw in any world. We must stay in a haunted place. It will be fun.”
I sighed. Three against one? Yeah, I didn’t stand a chance.
The saving grace was that the inn turned out to be both charming and cozy. The common room was warm, lit with lanterns that gave off a golden glow, their glass shades painted with simple patterns of flowers and stars. Thick rugs covered the wooden floor, muffling footsteps, and the walls were lined with shelves cluttered with knick-knacks—ceramic cats, jars of dried herbs, and odd little figurines that looked handmade. The furniture was solid and mismatched, but polished to a shine, with big chairs that swallowed you whole and heavy tables scarred from years of use. A fire crackled cheerfully in the hearth, filling the room with the scent of woodsmoke and pleasant herbs.
Dinner was excellent. They served platters of roasted poultry glazed with honey and herbs, bowls of thick vegetable stew, and loaves of dark bread still steaming from the oven. The bread came with a crock of creamy butter and another filled with spiced jam that tasted faintly of plums and cinnamon. Trays of roasted root vegetables dusted with coarse salt rounded everything out, and Rue ended up with a whole plate of meat cuts passed to him by the cook with a wink.
Afterward, they brought out a warm drink, a blend that was halfway between hot cider and sangria. It was spiced, fruity, and just a little too smooth going down. The first sip loosened my shoulders, the second made my eyelids heavy, and by the third, I had to fight to keep my thoughts from drifting. A pleasant drowsiness spread through me, making it hard to concentrate.
I still had enough presence of mind to cast Neutralize Poison. The effect faded slightly, but it didn’t disappear entirely. A second cast dulled it further, but by the third, I had to admit defeat. Whatever it was, it wasn’t going anywhere. My body felt light, my head pleasantly fuzzy, and I sank into the sensation of floating, extra relaxed in a way that was both suspicious and oddly enjoyable.
When I finally dragged myself upstairs to my room, I heard strange sounds from the walls—soft, muffled ooooooos that seemed to drift through the wood. The first one made me jerk in surprise, halfway to casting a spell, but the ones that followed only lulled me further. By the time the third came, I was already sinking into the mattress, the sound pulling me faster into sleep.
