The next day at the library, an air of impatience and worry hung heavily between Alison's father, Krey, and Nixsen. When Alison failed to appear, her father finally bolted for the door.
"Wait! Are you sure you're in any condition to go out?" Krey called after him.
Turning back, the librarian's face was strained but resolved.
"...Yes." He then rushed out, vanishing into the city's maze of streets.
"Damn it." Krey muttered, turning on Nixsen.
"I didn't ask before, not wanting to pry, but what in the world happened? What did you do?"
Clenching her fist, her gaze dropped to the floor.
"It's not your concern."
"Not my concern?" he shot back, voice rising.
"Aren't we a party? What are you talking about, where the hell is Alison!"
Nixsen looked at him, her usual composure gone. After a tense moment, she seemed to reach a decision.
"Worry not. She's likely where I'm thinking... I'll check the town hall." She headed for the door.
"I'll search the forest, just in case." Krey said, grabbing his sword. They parted ways.
Krey stood in the lush field between the forest and the castle walls, thinking.
"Where can you see the stars the best? Not the open fields... not the forest field..."
His eyes landed on the fierce, mountain rising beyond the river. He set off toward it.
Meanwhile, at the town hall, Nixsen formed a circle with her thumb and forefinger and began to chant in a low, guttural tongue. A shimmering, water-like veil appeared within the circle, revealing flickering silhouettes of people throughout the city. But the spell took its toll instantly; blood began to stream from her nose. She swayed, bracing herself against a wall.
"...Found you." she whispered, wiping the blood away with a trembling hand.
As time passed, Krey reached the mountain's peak, his dull blade in hand as a pack of wolves began to creep from the rocks, circling him. Far below, Nixsen arrived at the base of a stone bell tower. She climbed the spiraling stairs, emerging at the top to find Alison standing perilously close to the edge, her back to the entrance.
"...How did you find me?" Alison asked without turning.
"You were reading a book here when I first met you." Nixsen replied softly.
"I see... leave me be. Only the stars are fit to see me when I mourn."
Nixsen walked carefully around the great bronze bell and knelt beside her.
"I'm sorry, darling. There truly is nothing I can do."
"You keep saying that!" Alison cried, finally facing her.
"But you won't explain why you can't help my father!"
"Because it's beyond my ability. Even at my strongest, I cannot purge an illness that has settled into the soul. Did you not try a saint?" Nixsen said, her voice weary.
"That was the first thing we did! She said she could only rewind recent wounds and illnesses. Once something is deeply rooted, it cannot be cleansed. But you're different! Your powers as a witch—"
"My power requires the wounds to pass through me first... I must absorb the harm before I can transfer it to another life force. If I cannot withstand it, the damage rebounds onto me. Like the saint, my ability has limits." Nixsen interrupted, her tone deep.
Slowly, she turned her back to Alison and unzipped the top of her black dress, moving her ashen hair aside. A massive, jagged scar, like a lightning bolt frozen in skin, spread across the entirety of her back.
"I tried to save a lover when I was young... this was the cost of my ignorance." Nixsen said quietly.
Alison reached out, her fingers hovering just above the ruined skin. Her anger dissolved into a hollow sadness.
"So... there really is nothing."
Nixsen re-fastened her dress and stood.
"Even if you block a river, another stream will flow. " She looked down at Alison, then gently pulled her into an embrace.
"It's okay to cry."
At those words, Alison finally broke. Sobs wracked her body as she buried her face in Nixsen's shoulder.
"I-It's just all so u-unfair! I miss my mother, and now my father is leaving me... why? Why does this have to happen to me?"
"Shh... I will never leave you darling Alison." Nixsen murmured, stroking her hair.
Later, the two women walked back to the library. Alison's father, who had been frantically searching, was pacing out front, his face glistening with sweat. When he saw his daughter, a wave of relief visibly washed over him. Alison broke from Nixsen's side and ran to him.
"My little star, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"
"I-I'm fine. I'm so sorry for running off."
"It's alright. I ran off too when my mother wouldn't let me have supper..!" He chuckled, pulling her into a tight hug.
As they reunited, Nixsen's eyes scanned the street.
"Where in the world is Krey?"
As if summoned by the thought, a familiar, battered figure stumbled into view. It was Krey, covered in fresh wounds, his clothes torn, moving with obvious pain. The three of them rushed to him.
"Are you okay? What happened?" Alison asked, her voice frantic.
Krey looked up, saw Alison was safe, and managed a weak, bloody smile.
"...I just tripped on a wolf's leg." Then his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed forward.
Alison caught him, staggering under his sudden weight—the four jade bracelets made him far heavier than he looked. They carried him inside and laid him on a bed. Alison began cleaning the grime from his face with a hot towel. As she worked, she noticed a brown, dirt-like stain on the pillowcase. She touched it—it was mud. Puzzled, she dipped the towel again and gently wiped his hair. As the dirt came away, it revealed hair not of its usual dull brown, but a stark, pitch black.
Nixsen, watching from the doorway, stiffened, her eyes widening in shock.
"Nixsen, Go buy me brown hair dye." Alison said quietly, without looking up.
"Don't worry. I have a simpler method."
Nixsen approached, placing a hand over Krey's head. She began to chant in that same incomprehensible tongue, low and fluid. Under her touch, the inky black hair slowly lightened, shifting through shades until it settled into a convincing, ordinary auburn.
"How did you do that?" Alison whispered.
Nixsen pointed to her own mouth.
"Just a simple spell."
"...Could you teach me?"
"That depends. I'd consider it for a platter of food."
"I can make your breakfast."
"And dinner." Nixsen added, with a proud look on her face.
"Fine." Pouted Alison.
When Krey awoke, his body was wrapped in bandages. He looked around, his gaze landing on the mud-colored towel beside the bed. A cold dread seized him. He touched his hair—the texture was wrong, lighter, smoother. He threw off the blanket and stumbled out of the room.
"Hey—" Alison started.
He shoved past everyone, a panicked energy propelling him toward the door. Alison and Nixsen lunged after him, tackling him by the legs.
"Get off me! They'll find me!" Krey shouted, as a look of fear wore his face.
"Who will find you?" Alison demanded, holding on tight.
"They'll take them away again..! I need to hide! They'll know who I am!"
"Your hair is auburn now! The mud must have permanently changed the color!" Nixsen insisted, her voice firm.
"You're lying!"
"Then look for yourself!" Alison said, grabbing a mirror from a nearby drawer.
Out of fear, He closed his eyes, then slowly opened them.
In the mirror, his reflection stared back. His hair was indeed a soft auburn, the texture finer and lighter. He ran his fingers through it, disbelief giving way to a dazed relief. A faint light returned to his eyes.
"Hah... no way. It really did change."
"See? Now you don't have to worry about it. In fact, you should take a proper bath. I'm sick of smelling that stench of soil on you... also I haven't stitching your clothes yet, so I'll find something else for you." Said Alison as she relaxed her eyes.
"No need, I can wear what I have on."
"Absolutely not. They're stained with dirt, sweat, and blood. They need washing!"
In what felt like a blur, Krey was bathed, changed into clean borrowed clothes, and found himself lying on the library's main floor, listening to the faint sound of clothes being washed above.