the moon will forget its promise || l. faust

- Chapter 1 -

I lied again I'm gonna type as much as I feel motivated to type yippeee!!!!!!!!

just a reminder I'm bad at remembering canon information so I hope I don't get the world-building wrong and my plot being unrealistic. Do read for fun :D

also I did some research about the origins of the spells that the wizards use and I decided to just use latin rather than combine it with other languages that I think (??) some wizards have. I don't know latin. 

this is going to be one of my shorter stories iirc from all the other drafts and unpublished stories that I have in here HAHA

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「Social isolation is the act of admiring the bustling sight of people smiling like a field of blooming flowers. The sun is out, today seems wonderful, but you are just a seed left for the birds to pick on」

.·:·.✧ 🪞 ✧.·:·.

"Achoo––! Ugh, who wants to be a flower anyway with all that pollen."

Hilda's first regret of the day was sniffing the exquisitely fragrant honeysuckle up close. Their vines seem to always make their way over to the pale walls of her residence as if they were elaborately crafting a tapestry, a generously-sized home on the border of Langrenus island weathered by time with small garden space for her to use at her own will. While magical technology was continuously advancing as if it were a declaration of a marathon against the wizards, the architecture of a witch's home wouldn't keep up with modern times. She had been living there since birth, however, 300 years were spent dealing with Quinn previously as her live-in assistant rather than a visiting assistant like she was now. Hilda recalled her prior conversation with the somewhat irritated Quinn, the painter witch much older than she was.

The 1500-year-old witch with ebony coils of hair and amber eyes had been living as a mysterious painter commissioned to paint worlds for the dead. Living in the ecstatic Western Country, her works were very popular among the masses of humans. Likewise, it wasn't an understatement to state that other witches and wizards held Quinn in high regard, either.

Hilda clapped her hands to brush off the grass that stuck to her sweaty palms. She decided to stop thinking about her superior. Was Quinn like a boss to her? Hilda certainly did come at her every beck and call, no matter how small or large the issue was.

Ugh, stop thinking means stop thinking, Hilda.

Unfortunately, the living mind was much more complex for her to control to her liking, so she strolled away from her garden and back into her abode with a mellow expression. Her eyes fell on her camera resting on her wooden guest table.

"That's right...I need to gather materials for my camera films."

Wizards drew their magical powers from a specific magical tool they become emotionally attached to, and her magical tool just so happened to be the camera she tinkered with during her youth. Other than using her magical tool to take pictures or capture rare creatures with her special skill, Hilda had crammed all of her efforts to avoid meaningless fights with other wizards. The sea chimera she had caught the week before was still stuck inside the polaroid film she used to capture it.

The camera rose from the table and delicately sailed in the air until it landed within her grasp.

"Now where's that sea chimera photograph..?"

Shuffling the small stack of polaroids, her silver eyes carelessly skimmed through a collection of rare plants and golden petals, crystals, relics and...a whole sea chimera.