Roen adjusted the straps on his shoulders as the weight of the coffin shifted, the thick leather creaking faintly against his coat.
He turned around, his gaze settling on Elaina in the near distance.
Sunlight streamed through the canopy overhead, dancing across her silver-gray hair. Her delicate face still held an expression caught between confusion, discomfort, and something harder to define.
But Roen's attention didn't linger on her face. Instead, it drifted to the floating broom beside her.
Its handle gleamed with a smooth polish. The bristles at the tail were neatly trimmed, exuding a faint magical resonance. His eyes lit up with a trace of curiosity, like someone appraising a curious artifact.
Elaina took a slow, deep breath. The spring air, fragrant with the scent of budding grass and flowers, did little to lift the heaviness lodged in her chest.
She stared at the tall coffin strapped to Roen's back, an object that now felt so inseparably part of him. Her thoughts twisted and circled, full of contradiction.
She had come back intending to offer the old man a final kindness, to find him a resting place.
And yet this bizarre man had already seen him off, in a way she couldn't fully comprehend. A way both solemn and sacred.
It had been… unsettlingly dignified. Enough that a part of her, against all reason, found herself respecting it.
But "necromancer." "Corpse collection." These terms still clung to her thoughts like barbed thorns.
She shook her head, trying to scatter the noise.
I'm just a traveler, Elaina reminded herself. Bear witness. Record. Then move on.
That was her way.
She raised her right hand and gave a subtle gesture. The broom floated obediently into her grasp. With a graceful turn of her body, Elaina lifted her leg and sat sidesaddle on the familiar handle. Her skirt danced through the air in a neat arc.
"Are you leaving?"
Roen's voice came from behind her. Calm. Flat. No particular emotion.
Elaina's movement paused for a moment.
Her instinct had been to fly off without another word, to leave this morbid oddball behind. But an image flashed in her mind, Roen kneeling solemnly by the old man, softly chanting that foreign eulogy. And the ghostly figure nodding gently before fading.
Whatever his reasons for collecting corpses, at the very least, he seemed to possess a kind of reverence toward death itself.
Elaina let out a faint, deliberate hum. She tilted her face slightly, her voice sweet and confident:
"Of course I'm continuing my travels. I am, after all, the Ashen Witch Elaina, a proud traveler of the world."
"Oh?"
Roen let out a quiet sound of acknowledgement. He looked at the witch about to depart, and for a moment, a flicker of something almost wistful crossed his face.
"A traveler who bears witness to the world… that's nice."
His gaze seemed to drift past her, to something far beyond.
"You seem like someone with a very clear goal."
Elaina caught the first half of his comment and instinctively smiled, lips curling into a smug grin befitting a beautiful prodigy like herself.
But then the second half came, and it hit like a bucket of ice water.
"With such clear purpose, I'm sure you'll become a truly outstanding corpse someday."
The air froze.
Elaina's smile stiffened on her face.
She spun around. Her silver-gray hair whipped through the air with the force of her motion.
"Ha?!"
The sound she made was somewhere between a yelp and a snarl, like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on.
Her brilliant eyes widened with rage as she glared at Roen.
"What did you just call me?"
Her voice rose sharply, indignation flaring.
"You, you coffin-carrying creep!"
"Are you trying to start a fight? Huh? Is that it?"
"And for your information, saying something like that to a beautiful witch… no wonder you don't have a girlfriend!"
Roen looked genuinely perplexed.
He tilted his head, clearly baffled by her reaction.
"But… I was complimenting you."
His tone was utterly sincere, even a little troubled.
"You say that, but now I'm confused too."
He stopped, then added, in an even more serious tone:
"Besides, why would I want a girlfriend?"
"What's so great about a warm woman anyway?"
"…"
Elaina was stunned.
She opened her mouth… and no sound came out.
It was as if her brain had been struck by lightning, blank, smoking, completely shut down.
Did he just say what I think he said?
The sun still shone. Birds chirped in the trees above. Spring was in full bloom.
And yet Elaina felt a chill shoot up from the soles of her feet to the top of her head, freezing her in place.
Roen, for his part, seemed utterly unaware of the catastrophic impact of his words.
His strange logic simply didn't grasp why she might be offended.
"Exceptional lives often make for exceptional corpses," he added, with complete seriousness. "That's the highest praise I give to strangers."
Elaina's mouth fell open again… then closed.
Again.
She looked like a fish that had been yanked out of water and slapped onto the dock, utterly speechless.
Roen glanced at her stiff posture, then at the floating broom beside her.
After a moment's hesitation, he spoke again, voice matter-of-fact:
"Sorry, I just got here. I'm not familiar with the area."
"Can you take me to the nearest town?"
"I think I'm a bit lost."
The abrupt request hit Elaina like a needle to the brain. She snapped out of her daze.
She inhaled sharply and forced herself to calm down, though her chest still rose and fell with barely contained frustration.
Looking at the solemn-faced coffin-carrier spouting such outrageous things, she lifted her chin proudly.
With a cold huff, she declared:
"Sorry. I don't ride a broom with strange men."
Especially not freaks like you.
She added that part silently.
Her decision made, she prepared to launch herself skyward and leave this weirdo far, far behind.
The broom trembled slightly beneath her, ready to take flight.
Roen watched, his pale face showing a trace of disappointment.
"I see…"
He murmured quietly, then seemed to think of something. He looked at her again, this time with a bit more urgency.
"I can pay extra. Would buying a 'hanging ticket' be allowed?"
"I can't fly. I don't understand the local magic well enough to sync with it."
"Can't you give me a lift? Just to the nearest town?"
He pointed at himself.
Then at the coffin on his back.
Trying to show that he truly did need the help.