She is not an investigator.

The little witch lay on her bed, looking full of resentment.

Actually, it's not her fault. Ever since her mother told her a bunch of strange things that time, she's seemed to have a lot of energy.

For example, she would spend half a day trying on clothes in her room, and even trying on her own clothes wasn't enough; she would also take Sharti's clothes to try on.

Although they are indeed quite similar in terms of figure, what mother would wear her daughter's clothes? Can't she have some self-awareness as an elder?

If she were planning to dress up nicely and go out to do something, Xia Erti wouldn't say much. The problem is that she's currently staying at home every day, constantly fussing over her appearance, but never actually going out.

Tutoring is annoying enough, but when I get back, I have to be dragged over to see if her new clothes look good and suit her.

Xia Erti was genuinely angry; her patience with her mother truly had its limits.

"There are mirrors at home... can't you just look at yourself in the mirror...?"

Shaltie rolled over listlessly, turning the raven in her arms over as well.

Unfortunately, Nolan still didn't let his daughter off the hook despite her complaints, and instead went into her room.

"Shalte? Help me see how this outfit looks. Does it suit you?"

"Perfect! Absolutely perfect! You look good in anything, why do you have to worry about what you're wearing?!"

"Then, if I didn't tell you, would you have guessed that I'm a witch?"

"...?"

The impatience on Sharti's face slowly disappeared. She looked up at her mother and saw the faint smile on her face, but something felt off.

"Shart?"

"…I don't understand you."

"I mean... if I wear this outfit, do I look less like a witch?"

What is she saying?

She is the vice-principal of the witch academy, someone the witches should be proud of.

But what is she saying now?

Doesn't look like a witch? Are you kidding me?

She is a witch, she has been a witch her whole life, and she could never be an ordinary person.

"Why? Why are you asking me this kind of question? You...you know perfectly well that you can't become human, you've always been a witch. What's wrong with being a witch...?"

"Shartie, Shartie..."

Nolan's smile vanished. She grabbed the little witch's face and forced her to look at her.

“Look at me, Sharti, look into my eyes. You are my proudest child and my bravest little witch.”

"...?"

"I might leave temporarily, leave your side, leave this city, or I might never come back, I don't know... I believe you can take care of yourself, right?"

"Wait...wait...what are you saying? Leave? Where are you going...me, what about me?"

“Shartie… I’m sorry, Shartie… I love you so much, but I really have something I have to do. I’ve been searching for her for five hundred years… She’s right in front of me now, but she’s about to leave. I can’t, I can’t let her leave again like this. I can’t wait another five hundred years…”

"But what about me? You are, you are my mother... Why did you leave me? Just for that woman? I can't accept it, I can't accept it, I can't imagine what life would be like without you... I have to, I have to follow you, wherever you go, I will go!"

“Shalte…don’t do this. I can’t take you with me. You’re all grown up now. You should learn to be independent. I’ll write to you…”

"I do not want it!"

Sharti pushed Nolan away, his eyes filled with tears and his expression full of resentment.

"You don't love me at all... You only have that woman on your mind. She doesn't care about us, she doesn't care about you! Otherwise, why wouldn't she stay by your side! Just because of a woman who doesn't love you, you're going to abandon your family, abandon me..."

“Sharty…”

"Shut up! I hate you! I hate you—!"

"Gah!"

Shaltie left; she rushed out of her room, out of her warm home.

Her raven was awakened, opened its eyes, and tried to find its little master.

But it didn't see that; it only saw Nolan frozen in place, and the tears of guilt she shed.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Sharti ran for a long time, and although she was exhausted, her grief seemed to have overwhelmed her, causing her to rush out of the wide-open school gate and onto the nearby street.

No witch stopped her; the witch at the gate always did the same thing, sneaking off work.

As a result, Sharti unknowingly lost his way.

She wasn't familiar with this street, especially not under the cover of night.

Her familiar is not by her side, and her mother is about to leave her as well.

She had no friends at that college, and nothing to be happy about.

Filled with sorrow, she stopped on a bench under a streetlamp.

The cold wind blew against her body, making her shiver slightly as she hadn't had time to put on a robe.

She couldn't find her way home, but she didn't want to go home anymore.

Anyway... her mother probably won't care about her situation anymore and will prepare to leave.

Just like her biological parents who abandoned her.

"What a coincidence, little mushroom."

"...?"

The familiar voice and smile reappeared before her, accompanied by that peculiar address.

"Has your crow gone missing again?"

"...It's a raven."

The Gods' Fool - Regret: Chapter Thirty-Nine, Candy

"...Are you here to laugh at me?"

Despite saying that, Sharti moved aside to make room for Igris.

Igris didn't stand on ceremony and sat down as well.

Shaltie glanced at Igris beside her and suddenly felt that the cold night was not so cold anymore.

"What sad thing could make you so depressed, Miss Witch?"

Igris leaned back on the bench, her legs naturally crossed, which naturally attracted the little witch's attention.

Her gaze lingered on those slender trousers, and she hesitated before speaking softly.

"If... I mean if, I really told you why I was sad, would you laugh at me?"

Sharti knew she looked pitiful enough, but she didn't want Igris to comfort her just because she felt sorry for her; she wanted the kind of care that comes from a friend.

Thinking of this, she couldn't help but look up at Igris again.

She saw no emotion on Igris's face, neither the pitying look nor the slightly mocking smile.

She didn't intend to mock Sharti, nor did she feel sad for her because of her empathy.

Instead, she simply sat there, tilting her head slightly back, gazing at the darkness in the distance under the streetlights.

Sharti didn't know what she was doing, but she didn't seem to want to talk much.

The little witch thought she would at least comfort herself.

"If you don't answer, I'll take that as you're willing to listen to my complaints."

"..."

Igris remained silent, not even glancing at the little witch, appearing unusually quiet, as if she were asleep.

But her eyes were open.

Hey! Why aren't you answering me?!

Sharti nudged Igris's shoulder, but her body was unexpectedly stiff and even frighteningly cold.

Despite wearing thick enough clothes, she looked as if she had been pulled out of an ice cellar, her expression dazed.

Only when this state was interrupted did she finally lower her head and look at the bewildered Sharti in front of her.

"Sorry, I was a little distracted."

"…What’s wrong with you?"

Sharti noticed that something was wrong with her. Although she was the one who should be comforting, she didn't mind turning back to comfort Igris in front of her.

After all, they could be considered friends, at least that's what she thought.

"That's the question I should be asking you. What's wrong? Why are you sitting here crying all by yourself in the middle of the night?"

Igris steered the conversation back on track; she didn't want to discuss her own affairs, especially with the little witch in front of her.

She's still young, and there's no point in Igris telling her all this; it might even make her worry, which isn't what she wants.

Although she could tell that Igris was trying to change the subject, the little witch could only pout in grievance and sullenly put her hands in her pockets.

Not only does she resemble a mushroom when she wears a long robe, but her sullen and angry demeanor also resembles that of a mushroom.

They're quite cute.

"Want to chat? We're friends, aren't we?"

Igris reached into her pocket, placed something in her palm, and handed it to the little witch in front of her.

She slightly raised her eyes, looking curiously at the object in Igris's palm, and carefully held it in her hand.

"This is…"

"The candy was given to me by my therapist. He said that eating sweets can help relieve anxiety. I don't know if it actually works, but I do like eating sweets."

Igris smiled gently, gesturing for Sharti to try it.

The little witch hesitated because her mother had told her not to eat anything given to her by strangers, especially candy, but Igris was probably not a stranger.