Miss Witch Doesn't Want to be a Diva

She groped her way to her feet, the floor beneath her made of wooden boards, somewhat rough in texture, dry in the breeze, and not very dusty.

She looked around, finding herself in a white stone tower void of any technological trace, a part of a castle standing in the midst of a green floral grassland, the distant wheat swaying under the sky following the wind's path, as if out of a fairy tale.

She started to move slowly, realizing that she had neither wound nor pain on her body, and her clothes were intact.

Hexia touched her face with an unreal feeling, taking a while to settle down.

I might as well have a look around; it seems there is no other choice.

The ethereal song became clear again, as if calling Hexia, she listened carefully, seeking the direction of its source.

Hexia, holding onto the wooden stair railing, descended from the tower, the spiraling staircase illuminated by scattered windows, sunshine and wind passing through the windows, white curtains fluttering like a scene out of a dream,

She passed down the lengthy spiral staircase, the curtains periodically brushing against her cheek, the fabric so distinct and soft to the touch.

Going down endlessly, Hexia finally reached the exit at the bottom; outside was the wide corridor within the castle.

The castle walls weathered by time reflected a striking white light under the sun's rays, making Hexia involuntarily shield her forehead with her hand to slowly adjust to the brightness.

Is this what life under the sun is like, so different from the stifling darkness below ground.

Hexia walked along the wall, fingers gliding over the warm white stone, each huge brick bearing marks like those made by ax and chisel, as if hewn directly from the mountain.

Not as uniform and smooth as industrial processing, the various cross-sections layered, yet so unyielding.

Following the song, Hexia walked along the castle's hundreds of meters of walls, before turning into one of the halls.

The grand hall's main entrance wasn't locked, its towering doors seeming to be made for giants, crafted from ancient mahogany, with some of the lacquer peeling, and thicker than Hexia's waist.

Fortunately, the heavy door was slightly ajar, not fully closed, allowing Hexia to slip through its opening.

Entering the hall, the vast emptiness greeted her; light filtered through small windows onto the dome dozens of meters high, dust particles dancing in the air, and sunlight slanted towards the staircase at the far end of the hall, where a solitary Throne stood.

The white stone Throne, its edges carved with flowers and vines, contrasted by the neat lines of its interior, recounting the tenderness and solemnity of past rulers.

Walking in the silent hall, Hexia could hear the echo of her footsteps, the quietness profound.

After crossing the long hall, she finally arrived at a small side door at the back, pushing open the wooden portal, its creaking sound announcing her departure.

Outside was the wind coming towards her, rustling Hexia's garments, the coolness of the breeze by her side filtering out the heat of the summer sun.

At that moment, the faint song also gradually became clear.

Leaning against the white stone wall, Hexia continued along the stairs, walking through the flowery colonnade towards another building not far away.

Ascending the steps, she entered a secluded building of the castle, the corridor walls adorned with delicate frescoes, blurred figures upon them, while the opposite wall lined with a row of orderly columns.

The corridor's columns, crafted from gold, were carved with intricate and beautiful patterns, further embellished with white crystal petals, both dreamy and luxurious.

Passing the palace's ringed corridors, Hexia once again opened a door decorated with golden flowers, passing through an interior living space adorned with gold and crystals, heading toward the red-carpeted staircase.

The red-carpeted stairs wound upward, the song becoming clearer and clearer, until at last Hexia stood before a room that seemed to be a princess's boudoir with the door ajar.

The door was not closed, merely half-hidden.

Gently pushing it open, Hexia finally saw the figure singing by the window.

She had golden hair like sunlight, a flawless countenance more dazzling than the sun, light blue eyes as clear as the sky; she sat on the window sill, her white gauze and gold-threaded dress outlining her legs, the hem dropping down like a fan, with lozenge-shaped golden crystal pendants on the skirt reflecting and refracting light.

When Hexia entered, she finally stopped singing and turned her gaze from the verdant fields outside to the girl who had entered the room.

"Was it you calling me?" Hexia looked at the woman before her.

"Yes, and no," the elf-like golden-haired woman answered, her voice distant and gentle, her pale blue eyes inspecting Hexia, as if trying to see her clearly.

"I was calling for someone, but I did not know who it would be."

"Now that you have opened the door, it must be you," her voice held a trace of satisfaction, as if a long-held wish finally fulfilled.