Crown of Thorns-Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Translator & editor : Cuties

Firewood was greased and soon the fire lit up. The flames grew bigger and bigger, devouring firewood, and quickly came up to my feet, grating my toes. I struggled, unable to stand the heat, but to no avail. I was tied up so tightly, leaving no hope for escape.

I watched the approaching flame, swallowing audibly, and then my eyes darted to the spectators full of anticipation. They were cheering. Their bright looks revealed their wishes for my death, that they wanted it to be as painful as possible. I looked up at the sky. The sight of the sun, bigger and brighter than the flames beneath my feet greeted me.

Won’t you just take me already?

I closed my eyes at the pain burning through my legs. Pain that I could not endure no matter how hard I tried gradually soared up though my body. I could feel blood in my mouth.

Just why?

When I opened my eyes, a terrible darkness assailed me. I felt as if I were trapped inside a black monster’s mouth, or falling into an endless swamp. It was the same sight I had always seen, and the one I was always going to see. I got used to it a long time ago, but I felt a sense of alienation now.

I was well aware of the reason. Seeing the boy’s white hair and sun-like eyes, I thought of things other than darkness. Memories that had been buried deep down resurfaced to haunt me, and my eyes, having seen light for a moment, refused to get back to darkness.

I lay still for a long time in order to get used to the darkness. Killing my heart and thoughts like a corpse. I fell asleep as I was, woke up again, looked at the darkness, and seemed to have heard quite a few bells. Though, I probably missed many of those.

“Are you dead?”

My closed eyes opened and registered the image of the boy crouching in front of me. Why does he keep coming? I glanced at his hands, but he didn’t seem to be holding anything. No, the boy who had left his sword behind the last time couldn’t have come back to kill me.

As I lay still, he either lost interest in hearing my answer or got interested in the insides of the tower, the boy walked around to inspect the surroundings. But there was nothing to see. Most of the items were rotting into oblivion, and the rest of them had a repulsive smell, making it difficult to get close to them.

Come to think of it, I had the worst stench. I remembered people throwing stones at me, saying that I smelled. The stones hurt me and the blood from the wounds clotted thickly. After a long time, the collected blood rotted and reeked. Gradually it became nasty.

But that boy was a little strange.

“Are you always doing that?”

The boy who was snooping around came up again and asked me a question. I replied to the boy, trying my best not to make eye contact.

“Yes.”

“You look dead.”

“Wasn’t that what you wanted?”

It was a tower built to kill the witch. It was them who locked me up in here. Until death, or maybe even after death, I can never get out of here.

I died a long time ago. My body and mind were killed so many times. An immortal life did not give me eternal rest, but still, I was as good as dead right now.

*

Since then, the boy has come to visit whenever he could.

Every time he came here, he brought a handful of food. He put it on the rotten table and went back every time, but I just let it be. I didn’t eat it and I didn’t watch him when he came. I feared the visions that would bubble up upon seeing his face. Visions such as people sitting around a table and merrily chatting over a meal.

It’s about time to forget these visions. I can’t meet the people in them. I can’t watch them again. I’d rather forget them altogether. They persistently pop up and bother me. At one time they were memories and it was good to see them again, but not now. What’s the point of yearning for them when I can’t go back to those times?

“You didn’t eat again? The food’s gone bad!”

The boy was angry that the food remained the same for days. He yelled at me for not eating it.

“Just in case I could die of hunger.”

I will never eat. I realized a long time ago that even if I starve, I wouldn’t die, but I didn’t have to eat either. The boy seemed to have forgotten. The fact that I’m a witch trapped in a tower. A witch trapped forever, hoping to die.

“Do as you please.”

The boy turned away in a fit of anger and hasn’t come back for a while. He should never have come in the first place. If the boy was the light the divination meant, he had to grow up a little more, and then come to me after he was ready to kill me without hesitation.

I’ve never seen such a young warrior before.

But the boy reappeared. This time, He started bringing things other than food. In the meantime, he matured a little more. He grew taller and his white hair was longer.

I’m always the same, so I don’t feel the flow of time, but human life is so short and ends so fast. It was not good for me to witness, when I had to forget the passage of time as much as possible because I’ll have to get accustomed to being stuck alone in a sterile point in time all over again.

“It’s really dirty. Look at the spider webs.”

The boy moved busily. He seemed to be trying to clean up. Or remove the spider webs with a long stick and sweep the blood on the floor.

“What the hell is this?”

The boy exclaimed while throwing out the bloody water. He looked curious about what the smelly blackish thing was. I was going to tell him it was blood, but I held my tongue because I didn’t want him to question me further about the source of the blood.

I just lay there and watching the boy poking around. At first, I thought it was only inside my head because I’d lost it. Finally gone crazy from existing for so long. I was hallucinating about an angel boy who descended to save me from the darkness.

Otherwise, he can’t keep showing up. It doesn’t make sense for a young warrior to keep going in and out of the witch’s tower, and if that wasn’t enough, he was also cleaning the tower.

Soon the boy tried to draw the curtains because it was too dark to see properly. I approached him and grabbed his hand. A ray of light leaked through the curtains and shone at me for a moment.

My heart was pounding because I saw the light that existed only in my memories again. My insides burned.

The boy asked me with surprised eyes.

“Why, what’s wrong? No, before that, when did you get here? It was so fast that I didn’t see it.”

“Don’t touch the curtain.”

“It’s very bright and warm outside. It will brighten the dark and damp tower.”

I knew that too. So was the outside world in my memories. The sun always builds life and makes us feel hopeful. It shouldn’t make me feel dead or that I have to be dead. I must not remember what it was like to feel alive.

Greed is endless, so once I got something, I’ll end up wanting something else. I could only bear it if I lived with nothing like I was dead.

The witch must live in the dark tower with darkness as her sole friend.