Born as a Witch Chapter 76: Fairy Queen and Fairies

Lira decided to return to the fairy village. Her heart fluttered with a mixture of excitent and nervousness as she followed the sa hidden path Ivvie had once shown her. She kept glancing over her shoulder, making sure no one from the academy saw her slipping away.

Behind the academy, half-hidden beneath ivy and moss, stood the weathered wooden door. Its surface was rough with age, vines curling around its fra like guardians of the secret passage. She pushed it open with care, the hinges groaning softly, and stepped into the cool embrace of the forest beyond.

The air grew quieter as she walked deeper into the trees. Shafts of pale morning light filtered through the mist that clung to the undergrowth. The sound of her footsteps on damp earth echoed faintly, accompanied only by the occasional bird call. It was as if the forest itself held its breath, knowing where she was going.

At last, she reached the circle of mushrooms. Their caps glistened faintly in the fog, as if dusted with dew and moonlight at the sa ti. Lira stepped carefully into the ring, her pulse quickening. She knew the path was only supposed to open under a full moon, but she trusted in the bond she had ford with the fairies—and with their queen.

Taking a deep breath, she lowered her voice into a soft, respectful call:

"Lira... returning to the fairy village. Queen Lissandra, may I enter?"

For a mont, silence hung heavy. Then a faint hum stirred beneath her feet. The mushrooms glowed, their faint white light shifting into radiant gold. A warmth spread through her soles, and suddenly a column of golden brilliance erupted around her, wrapping her like a cloak.

The world spun. Light flooded her vision, blinding her, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the brilliance.

When she opened them again, the forest was gone. In its place stretched the fairy village—alive with shimring colors, delicate wings fluttering in the air, and houses grown seamlessly from trees and blossoms. The air itself seed sweeter, tinged with the perfu of flowers that never wilted.

Before her stood Queen Lissandra, her golden aura brighter than the morning light that filtered through the ancient trees. She wore a gown woven of moon-silver threads and leaves that seed alive, shifting slightly as though stirred by a hidden breeze. Her eyes, watched Lira with a calm warmth that carried both welco and quiet expectation.

"Well, welco back, Lira," the queen said, her voice like a chi over water. "Did your travels bring you what you needed?"

Lira felt her knees grow soft at the weight of that gaze. She stepped forward and lowered her head respectfully.

"Your Majesty," she whispered, "I... I learned more than I thought I would. The mountains tested , but they also showed truths about myself. My air elent revealed itself to in ways I hadn’t dread possible. But..." she hesitated, "...I also promised you I would not speak of the fairy village. And I have kept that promise."

Queen Lissandra’s lips curved into a knowing smile, delicate but radiant.

"You did well to keep your word. Many beings would not understand the sanctity of such a bond. To us, truth and promise are as binding as roots are to the earth. You honor us, child."

Relief poured through Lira, and she dared to lift her eyes again. The village was alive with soft movents—small fairies peeked from behind giant mushrooms, so whispering to each other, so daring to flit closer to her. Tiny lights followed their wings like falling stars. She couldn’t help but smile at them, and her heart softened.

"I ca," Lira continued, "because I... still don’t understand everything. The mountains gave strength, but they also left with questions. I wanted to ask... if you could guide further."

The queen tilted her head, her golden hair falling like threads of sunlight. "Guide you, yes—but not in the way you may expect. The path you seek cannot be handed to you. But it can be revealed, little by little, when you are ready to plant its seeds. Co, walk with ."

She gestured, and a trail of glowing blossoms lit up across the mossy ground. Lira followed, her breath held in wonder. As they walked deeper into the heart of the village, she noticed things she had missed before: the way the fairies cultivated tiny gardens of herbs, rare flowers blooming in colors she had never seen, vines woven into bridges that curved between tree hollows glowing with soft amber light.

Sowhere in the distance, the sound of water trickled—gentle, lodic.

"I sense," Queen Lissandra began softly, "that you have touched the elent of air in a true way. That is rare. Air is not only movent, freedom, and breath—it is also voice, song, and spirit. It carries both silence and storm. To master it, one must first understand its gentleness... and its rage."

Lira listened carefully, her heart beating fast. The words wrapped around her like a teaching, but also like a warning.

The queen turned to her suddenly, her expression serious. "And yet... the elent is not yours to command as a tool. It is a living bond. You are its companion, its channel. Forget this, and it will turn on you."

Lira bowed her head, humbled. "I understand... or at least, I will try to."

The queen studied her for a long mont before her smile softened again. She raised one hand and from her palm blood a small, glowing seedling, its leaves shimring as though carved from erald glass.

"This," the queen said, placing it gently in Lira’s hands, "is a rare sprout of Aurelia Vine. It grows only where both fairy magic and mortal care et. Plant it in your grove, tend to it with your breath and your elent. In ti, it will show you more than I ever could."

Lira held the seedling close, awed by its weightless glow. She could feel a pulse of life inside it, like a heartbeat in miniature.

"Thank you," she whispered, her throat thick with gratitude.

Queen Lissandra’s gaze softened further. "You are still at the beginning of your path, Lira. But already, the threads of fate tug at you. Guard what you love, and trust your own spirit. The air will carry you where you must go."

Lira lowered her head in a deep bow, the promise of her journey burning in her chest. She knew she could not linger long, but in this mont, surrounded by shimring wings and tiless forest magic, she felt as though she belonged to sothing greater.

When she finally looked up, the golden light was already gathering around her again, lifting her from the village. The fairies’ soft songs echoed as her vision blurred, and then—whosh—she was back at the mushroom circle in the forest, the seedling cradled safely in her arms.

Her heart was racing. She knew what she needed to do next.

Lira left the fairy village with the Aurelia Vine safely tucked away in her spatial bag. Even as she walked through the foggy forest path, she felt its faint pulse of life inside, a promise waiting to be rooted in her grove. But for now, her steps led her elsewhere, to the greenhouses. She wanted to see how her plants fared, and the fairies who made their ho among the leaves.

Morning light slanted through the tall windows of the academy’s greenhouse as she pushed open the heavy glass door. The air was rich with the scent of damp soil and blooming herbs, layers of green filling every corner, vines climbing tall trellises and blossoms glowing faintly with mana. The sound of tiny wings fluttered near the lavender rows, and Lira smiled, the fairies were already awake.

Her gaze swept across the rows until she spotted two familiar figures: Ivvie, hovering with arms crossed, her wings quivering with irritation, and Regal Lysanthe, perched on a tall stalk of flowering sage like it was a throne. The fairy’s silvery gown shimred, her chin tilted high in that unmistakable aristocratic posture.

"I told you, nectar is to be shared, not demanded," Ivvie snapped, her small hands resting on her hips. "You can’t just prance in here and act like the flowers owe you!"

Regal Lysanthe flicked her long hair back, unimpressed. "Hmph. As the daughter of the Silver Court, I do not ’prance.’ I claim what rightfully suits my station. This sage blooms brighter because of my presence. Surely, a few drops of nectar are a fair tribute."

Ivvie’s wings buzzed with fury. "Tribute? These are Lira’s plants, not your royal pantry!"

Lira had been standing at the edge of the rows, listening, trying not to burst into laughter, but a soft chuckle escaped her lips. Both fairies froze and turned at once.

"Well, well," Lira said, stepping closer, her boots crunching lightly against the gravel floor. "It seems I’ve walked in on... negotiations?"

Regal Lysanthe imdiately softened her tone, dipping into a half-curtsy mid-air, though her pride still glead in her eyes. "Lady Lira, forgive the noise. Ivvie seems to forget that royalty must be treated with proper regard."

Ivvie rolled her eyes so hard they nearly glowed. "Royalty, hah! She thinks flowers bloom just to flatter her."

Lira laughed again, shaking her head as she ca to stand between them, her presence calming the space. "I see both sides. Flowers do bloom brighter with care, but they also need balance, not demands." She crouched near the sage stalks, gently brushing a finger across a cluster of blossoms. Their glow brightened under her touch, a soft hum of magic filling the air. "See? They respond to kindness."

The fairies fell quiet for a mont, watching as the flowers leaned toward her hand. Even Regal Lysanthe’s proud expression faltered, just slightly, at the sight.

Lira glanced at them both, amusent lingering in her eyes. "So, shall we care for them together, instead of fighting over nectar like children?"

Ivvie gave a triumphant smirk, while Lysanthe huffed, though her cheeks colored faintly as if she knew she had been caught too haughty.