I and the Witch of Time Who Seeks the Past Chapter 1

The Chronomantic Clock and the Witch of Ti (Volu 1)

The Prophetic Dream

I dread of an old manor.

The windows were veiled in dust, vines crawling up their fras. The path before was half-hidden by weeds, and the gates that once guarded the place were now rusted shut.

And yet, the manor wasn’t lifeless. Rabbits scurried in the courtyard, calling to their young. A new sapling pushed up beside deadwood. When the breeze passed through, it carried a breath of life into the fresh buds clinging to the old walls. Flowers would bloom again—the cycle of nature unbroken.

The manor wasn’t ancient. It was waiting.

When winter ca, snow blanketed the ground, soft and heavy. I pushed open the gate, trudging into the silence. Golden decorations glead as if untouched by ti. Statues lined the hall, iron-clad guardians with swords at their sides and stern faces frozen in stone.

At the end of the corridor, a colossal marble door lood, its surface carved with a cross. It radiated mystery, like the threshold to an abyss.

I pushed it open.

Darkness swallowed whole—vast, still, silent as death.

Then, from above, a faint beam of light broke through, falling upon a massive clock at the chamber’s center. Strange symbols covered its surface, each one stirring unease the longer I looked.

The mont the light touched it, the clock began to move.

Tick. Tock.

When the hands struck midnight, a black robe drifted down from the air.

Its hem brushed the floor, only to whip forward as though caught by an invisible wind. At last it settled, slowly, heavily. And from within—

A girl appeared.

She hovered in the air, adjusting the clasp of her robe. Her hair, black as ink, fell to her waist. Her eyes, just as dark, locked on . Her robe was the color of night, yet her skin shone pale, almost radiant.

And then she spoke.

“You’ve finally arrived.”