She is not an investigator.

"That dream is very strange. It is indeed a dream, but it is far more stable than a dream. It is more like a world built on a dream. However, it is still unclear who the master of the dream is. If the master of the dream awakens, then that so-called incredible kingdom may also disappear."

Igris stopped what she was doing, as if she had thought of something, and looked up at the ceiling.

Of course, she wasn't actually looking at the ceiling; she was just looking at something higher up.

She thought of things that most people probably don't know, and many things that she knows might not even be known.

"After all, it's a dream."

In the end, she shrugged and continued to focus her gaze on the kitchen knife in front of her.

"Instead of worrying about what happens after you wake up, let's enjoy this so-called... Wonder Kingdom."

A bizarre stage play – The Arrogant Witch and the Wonderland: Chapter Seventeen, The Witch's Town

Breakfast time.

Inside the restaurant, Krentia was filled with anxiety, while across from her sat Igris, pondering what she should do that day.

She had been living here for two days, and today was the first time she had ever made a request to the witch.

With a silver spoon stirring the water in front of her, Igris's gaze followed the swirling currents in the water, constantly shifting and drifting.

Krentia lowered her head, her hands resting on her lap, her skirt slightly clenched, proving that her mood was not as relaxed and cheerful as it appeared.

"Krentia, the witch of the Black Forest."

Ding--

The spoon slowly came to a stop, and with a sound of it hitting the side of the cup, Igris finally raised her head and smiled.

"You seem nervous? Don't be afraid, you didn't do anything today that made me uncomfortable."

If it's because of what happened when she got up in the morning, then Igris hopes she can get over it as quickly as possible, because Igris doesn't care about those things.

Now, they need to have a serious talk.

"This castle is in a rather remote location, so I do doubt whether I am actually in the same place as when I arrived. I know that you are by my side, and that is enough, but my dear witch, perhaps we should find some opportunities to visit some more lively places."

Locking yourself in a castle all day long is not a good idea, for whatever reason, there are no princesses like in fairy tales in such a place.

What do you think?

Igristo lifted her chin and looked at Krentia in front of her with great interest.

She wondered if Clendia would grant her wish, or if she would change her previous submissive attitude and firmly reject Igris's idea of ​​leaving the castle.

But Krendia, with her head bowed, neither refused nor agreed.

She asked, feigning indifference and sounding somewhat dejected.

"There's nothing good out there. I can bring you anything you need here. Or is there something still missing here that I can't provide for you?"

“Of course,” Igris replied.

"You should listen to me. Only by getting out of this place can our relationship have more surprises."

Igris was not an artistic person at all; in fact, contrary to most people's first impression of her, she was a somewhat savage, rude, and unreasonable person.

Perhaps we could add "willful" to that? But she rarely criticizes others, and everyone is very willing to understand her.

“We can go see that cathedral, or go to a nearby city to see an opera… I once knew someone who was very knowledgeable about opera, although he ended up looking like a ghost.”

Iglesias knows many people, but there aren't many who would actually be chosen by her in that tone.

"Perhaps we could go to an amusement park; the staff there would most likely welcome me."

Igris could suggest many destinations for the procession, but the final decision still rested with the witch in front of her.

Igris couldn’t stand the stifling atmosphere of the castle, which was so oppressive that it was almost moldy, and she believed that Clendia felt the same way.

But Krendia did not do as she expected; instead, she shook her head and took away the plate in front of her.

She didn't answer. Although she could have used her magic, she still took the plate and headed to the kitchen, trying to avoid Igris's scrutiny.

Igris didn't say much, but watched her leave and sighed silently.

"Miss Administrator? What do you think? If the witch doesn't have some unspeakable secret, then there's a high probability that she... has some autistic tendencies?"

Iglesias wasn't sure, after all, she wasn't a psychiatrist, but she was indeed exceptionally knowledgeable about mental illnesses and related matters.

"Before you try to judge whether someone else is in good mental condition, I hope you can also take a look at your own situation... Of course, what you said makes sense, I can sense the...special nature of this so-called witch."

The caretaker couldn't pronounce the word precisely, but Igris could roughly understand it.

The so-called special characteristics.

Even though she called herself a witch, and even though she told Igris that she was not the same as other witches, in terms of physical structure and racial talents, she was a genuine witch.

But such witches prefer to call themselves sorceresses rather than integrate into the witches' community.

Humans are social animals, whether they are humans or witches.

There must be some secret about her that she has been unable to reveal to Igrind.

That secret could probably explain why her personality was so eccentric and why she was in her current situation.

Living in such a place means being almost always accompanied by loneliness.

“Igris, I know what you’re trying to do.”

But the administrator suddenly spoke up, not only interrupting Igris's thoughts but also causing her to pause her next plan in her mind.

"But perhaps this so-called witch is not like most of the people you've encountered who need help. I mean... I'm not worried about your safety or that I don't want you to meddle, but this time it feels different."

The administrator's words always sounded awkward; she couldn't find better words to describe the situation, so she could only try to remind Igris in another way.

“She is stronger, more mysterious, and more…powerful than you think, both mentally and in terms of ability. I just hope you will stop living here with the mindset of trying to save her or help her…it was just a deal, you remember? You gave her what she wanted, and she gave you what you wanted.”

Igris was unable to respond, because everything the administrator said was also based on speculation and that vague premonition.

Igris trusted her intuition, but the caretaker was not her, and at that moment she did not truly feel any discomfort or anything to worry about.

"Lets see."

That was the only answer Igris could give.

This was her second day living in the castle, and there were still 28 days until it all ended.

Perhaps she really needs to pay extra attention to the deeper secrets hidden beneath this superficial relationship.

“...Igris”.

The witch's voice called out. She stood in the kitchen doorway, one hand on the wall, only half her face showing as she looked at Igris.

She opened her mouth, pondered for a moment, and then, as if she had made a decision, continued speaking.

“I know you still can’t adapt to everything here. This castle shouldn’t be a prison that confines you… Do you want to go out and see the world? Go outside, go wherever you want to go.”

Did she compromise? No, she didn't compromise.

She still couldn't get Igris to leave completely; she just hoped that Igris could continue to live peacefully in this castle until their deal was completely over.

"Let's go into the forest."

She waved her hand, and the wooden staff stopped in front of her, hovering in the air.

“Deep in the forest, we can all find what we want.”

She extended her hand to Igris, her expression calm and unreadable.

Perhaps, this is her true self.

"Of course, Miss Witch."

Igris wouldn't refuse.

In order to obtain the so-called truth.

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.

The flying object slowly landed, and what appeared before Igris was a dark, dense forest.

This is a strange forest. Most of the trees around you are black and twisted, as if they have been scorched by flames, but they still retain life.

In such a place, even though there are low trees all around, you still can't see much sunlight overhead, as the sky is blocked by dense branches that seem to come from nowhere.

It is dark, twisted, and disturbing.

Krentia seemed to be the only exception in this space. Among the trees whose growth direction was twisted to the point of being severely deformed, the witch in front of her appeared to be incomparably dignified and perfect.

She held a wooden cane in her hand, but bent down slightly, stroking the pure black muddy soil beneath her feet.

"..."

She felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity with it all; this wasn't her first time here, nor would it be her last.

She is the witch of the Black Forest, and this is the legendary Black Forest.

"I like it here."

Krendia straightened up and looked at Igris, who was also looking at her.

"Everything here feels familiar and warm to me—the trees, the soil, and the creatures. I was born from nature, and this place feels like my home."

“Igris, answer me… Do you like it here? Do you feel disgusted by this place because of these ugly plants, the dim light, and the rotten soil?”

She sought answers, anticipating Igris's words and statements.

Just as she was hoping, Igris would respond to what she had expressed—the tip of the iceberg that belonged to the witch.

"I want to see more of this place."

Igris did not respond, but instead said this.

Krendia fell silent, pursed her lips, and finally nodded before coming to Igris's side.

"Come with me, I will take you wherever you want to go. This forest is not so welcoming to you, so... don't leave me."

Her words seemed somewhat deliberate, perhaps because leaving her would truly lead to some danger, or perhaps...

No, that's impossible.

Her every word and action was so natural, and her every move was so pleasing to the eye.

This belongs to Krentia, but it shouldn't belong to the witch.

In this transaction, she played the role of someone who should be loved, while Igris played the role of someone who gave love, nothing more.