Turning Point: The case where Kalpira came to kill Altna but took Alterra away instead of leaving her behind.
It was just another ordinary day. The sunlight was warm, and the wind and earth were cool and moist enough to be perfect. Lying on the dirt in the yard, I made several small clay figures and began my own little puppet show by moving them around.
The three clay figures moved in unison at my gestures. They were about the size of my palm. The one with a tail and horns like mine was modeled after Father. The smaller and more delicate one was Mother’s figure. And the tiny, cute one was me.
Even looking at myself, I thought I was pretty cute. Sure, it’s natural for a child to be cute, but even so, I was especially adorable. The little horns and tail weren’t exactly cute, though.
Well, what can you do? I’ve had them ever since I woke up in this body. Stretching out on the ground, I wagged my legs and tail while continuing my puppet show.
When the big father figure knocked on the door of the clay house, the medium-sized mother figure and the small figure representing me rushed out happily to greet him. The father figure then embraced both figures and gently patted their heads.
I played with the figurines as ideas came to me, simply following the whims of my hands and heart. Though reading books at home could have been an option…
Ugh. The books Mother wrote were too difficult. It’s hard for me to read them. Even though I might possess great knowledge, my body is still that of a girl, and holding those books makes me drowsy.
At this age, playing is what I should be doing. Unlike in my previous life, I have no intention or desire to suppress my urge to play.
Actually, I want to run around the mountains and fields barefoot, but last time I did that, Mother scolded me severely because it was dangerous. So, I decided not to do it anymore.
Yeah, I won’t do it. Mother cares for me. Because she cares, I mustn’t get hurt. I fidgeted with the necklace around my neck, and for some reason, I saw Mother’s image flicker—she was cooped up in her room, dealing with documents that gave me a headache just looking at them.
Mother is always busy. She’s constantly researching as if being chased by something, and the number of times she’s played with me can be counted on one hand. Even those rare occasions were usually magic lessons or language training—far from actual play.
But I’m generous. There are clumsy mothers in this world, too, after all. Above all, I could feel her love. Because I could feel it… yes, Mom loves me.
So, I can forgive her. She makes delicious pies every day and always asks me with a smile what I played today when we meet.
…Did she really? She probably did. Life has been so peaceful that I often forget such things. Come to think of it, it was about time for dinner. Using magic, I shook off the dirt from the clothes Mother tailored for me and stood up.
Though she doesn’t mind if my clothes are dirty, eating dinner in such a state wouldn’t look good, would it? After rechecking to make sure nothing was missed, I brushed off all the dust and entered the house.
It still feels awkward to walk around the house wearing shoes, but walking barefoot would make the wooden floor too rough, and thorns might pierce my feet.
I don’t like that. You can’t pull wood splinters out like stones. On the table, where pies are always placed, there was, as usual, a pie and a note today.
The content of the note was similar to yesterday’s. Though she’s busy and it’s hard to see her face, the note says she loves her daughter.
Of course I know that, Mother. Could I ever forget the love you sent me through what you’ve done to me? Something strange just crossed my mind, but what was it?
The pie was still warm, as if freshly baked. When I cut it open, it was filled with meat. I’ve never seen Mother go hunting, so where does she get the meat from?
I don’t know. Maybe she has a supplier somewhere. I guessed as much while munching on the pie. It was hot, so I blew on it and ate with a spoon, finishing even the spoonfuls for dessert.
Since I’m growing, I need balanced nutrition. When Mother first told me to eat with a spoon, I seriously questioned her mental state, but it turned out to be surprisingly tasty.
And it felt like my body was becoming healthier. Still, if I eat the pie tray, there might be no pie tomorrow.
Since Mother doesn’t come looking for me, I decided to visit her and thank her for the meal. Where was the ladder door leading to the basement again?
After fumbling around, I found the ladder door and placed my hand on it to descend, but I felt something rapidly ascending from below. Startled, I stepped back, and soon the ladder door creaked open, revealing Mother.
What was surprising wasn’t just that Mother came up first but also her expression—it was completely new to me. Instead of her usual calm demeanor, she looked desperate and urgent. What could be the matter?
“Altera, where are you…! There you are, thank goodness… Altera, come here!”
Mother scanned the surroundings frantically before finally noticing me and rushing toward me. What am I supposed to do when she tells me to come while running?
“Why are you so worried, Mother?”
Mostly, I was curious why she would be in such a hurry. However, instead of answering, she grabbed my necklace and summoned a blue light in her palm.
It was the same blue light I occasionally saw when peeking into her room. Before I could wonder what she was doing, she placed her hands on my shoulders and earnestly instructed me.
“Altera, listen carefully to what I’m about to say. Leave right now and go as far away as you can. A terrifying person is coming. And… yes, you must survive at all costs. No matter how hard it gets… don’t give up. Think that your mother is always watching over you. Understand…?”
With that, Mother pushed me gently from behind. A terrifying person is coming? And survive? I couldn’t understand. What is she talking about?
This place is the safest. Even the fiercest beasts dare not approach here. Why would something scary come here?
“Go, quickly! Far away! And hide!”
Mother shouted at me. Mother, who never raised her voice even when scolding me, shouting made me scared—and somehow, a frightening memory surfaced. In a panic, I ran outside.
I wondered where to go, but curiosity about who this terrifying person was also arose. Since I was skilled at hiding, I burrowed into the soil beneath the nearby bushes.
It wasn’t a proper hiding spot, halfway buried in the ground and partially hidden by the bushes, but it was sufficient to observe who was approaching the house.
As I waited, Mother walked out of the house. From the forest, a man with a tail and horns like mine appeared.
He had the same brown skin and golden eyes as me, but his dragon-like horns and tail were larger than mine. He stared directly at Mother.
Then, without warning, he grabbed Mother by the neck.
– – – –
Finally, I killed the witch who stole my seed without leaving a trace, yet something felt off. The witch claimed she had already used her child as an ingredient, and in the basement, I found her journals documenting experiments conducted on her own offspring. A lump of flesh made from her daughter’s flesh, capable of perpetual regeneration, was a sight grotesque enough to make even me wince.
Fortunately, the journal abruptly ended at some point, as if further experimentation had become impossible—perhaps because the subject had died or escaped. But the more I examined the house, the stranger it seemed.
Why would there be a small bed, children’s clothing, and picture books if she truly consumed her child as material? If she treated her offspring as expendable, there’d be no reason to keep such items.
Initially, I didn’t care about the child—I never wanted one—but sparing my bloodline from my own hands felt somewhat fortunate.
Given the circumstances, she must still be alive. This troubled me. I shouldn’t let her live, yet the thought of taking away the life of someone who endured such misery weighed heavily on me.
There was nothing else to see, so I shook the ground to collapse the witch’s basement and cottage. Perhaps I could have extracted more information from her, but would a mad witch who dared to scheme against a dragon really cooperate?
In that case… how should I report this to Gaia? The child is dead, the witch is dead. Case closed. Would that suffice? If I wanted to find her, I could, but she’s just a girl.
Even if she shares my blood, she’s still young. There’s no way she could survive in the cruel wilderness. Especially in the mountain infested with monsters released by the witch—they’ll take care of her even if I don’t.
All I needed to do was leave. It was supposed to end easily like this. Despite spending 13 years searching and preparing thoroughly, it felt absurdly anticlimactic.
That’s just how things go in this world, I suppose. As I moved to return to my place of leisure, I scattered some magic to detect anything unusual—but found nothing.
Except for a patch of grass near the house that trembled unnaturally.
