The Wandering Witch VOL. 2 - The Witchfolk Genocide Arc

18.3| Sparking a Fire

The moment he entered the mouth of the alley, he knew something was wrong.

An unbearable silence crept over the dim walls lining either side of him, rotting of stench and filth. The building to his side blocked out the path of the sun and made it hard to grasp what he was seeing. Noct squinted through the thick shadows, keeping his senses heightened. Empty, dusted crates and sacks of trash were heaped on the ground. There were no windows or back doors. 

The black-haired young man was gone. There wasn't anyone or anything alive around him.

The alley seemed to stretch infinitely, inviting him even further down the path. Dismissing the unease he felt, the Crow Thief placed one foot in front of the other and moved without making a single sound. It was like walking on a thin piece of rope. Noct had done this multiple times, of course, but never did it feel so threatening until now. He recalled the young man's ghost of a smile from before. He was certain he had seen it.

So where is he now?

There was no sign of him, not even a footprint on the dirt-laden ground. Noct wondered if he had slipped in a secret door in the wall a few paces back. Then, he shook his head. He would have noticed if he did. He was always good at finding escape routes and hidden passages and his eyes were quick to pick up on anything that seemed off.

Let's just keep walking.

A few seconds later, he ended up at a dead end.

Before him, a looming bricked wall stood in his path, smeared with layers of dust and grime that no one seemed to have seen before. The hard surface extended a few stories above him, imposing as the gates that he'd passed through when he entered Gisnell. Rubbing his neck, Noct inspected any traces or clues for something in front of him and frowned deeply. There was nothing that was out of place. He was standing before a bleak, tall wall in a very dark and quiet alleyway. There was no sign of the young man he had followed inside. Noct blinked, making sure that his eyes were still working properly.

Perhaps... a hallucination?

He stood there for a few seconds, thinking of this possibility. Maybe he had imagined the young man after all. Perhaps it was his mind playing tricks on him again. However, his blackouts had never happened while he was conscious, and it would always be about that scene with his mother and the witch in the blaze. The last time he had experienced it was back when he was with the little miss in the cell.

Noct winced as he felt a sudden sharp pain at the back of his head at the recollection of that memory. He clawed at his hair and scalp, suddenly feeling sick. The shadows around him danced at the edge of his vision, reaching out and threatening to pull him once more into another episode of that moment. He could see the shadowy figures of whispering people, calling out--

Clang!

A resounding echo pierced through the air as Noct stopped a sword mere inches from his neck with a quick slip of his dagger.

Startled at the sudden attack, he snapped back to reality and looked at the person holding the hilt of the crossed weapon, recognizing the familiar figure of the black-haired young man he had encountered. The moment their eyes met, Noct felt a chill creep up his spine.

The young man smiled at him. "Ah, you have good reflexes."

Still holding his aching head, Noct jumped back as far as he could, heels touching the wall of the alley. He leveled his gaze at the young man, slipping a few more daggers from his sleeve. 

He had appeared out of nowhere, almost as if he had materialized from the shadows. Noct didn't sense his presence at all until at the last moment, a feat that only The Pierrot was able to manage before. If he hadn't blocked the attack in time, he was certain the sharp blade would have beheaded him in an instant.