In the northern area of Redmount stood one watermill. An ancient, black watermill. It turned ever so slowly, stirring up water from the river and scattering it all across the air. The droplets of water glimmered like gold under the sun, and the gurgle of the river drowned out the sound of the gearturn.
Roy was wading through the patch of dandelion, purslane, and foxtails beside the watermill, searching for something.
"For my first wish, I want to get six butterflies. Three blues and three monarchs."
Yeah, she's a child, alright. Roy shook his head. I can't believe I'm playing a child's game here. Me, a witcher. I didn’t even do this back at the orphanage. Gods, if those guys find out, they're gonna laugh at me. But at least it's better than literal crimes, I guess.
With his witcher senses activated, Roy stared right at the slender path hidden between the tall grass, searching for his quarry. He couldn't catch a butterfly if there were no butterflies to catch.
A while had gone by since he started this little hunt, and yet there was not a single butterfly to be seen. Behind him, Sherry was waving her net around, happily pouncing at the butterflies fluttering within the grass and giggling in glee.
Golden sunshine rained down upon her, draping her in a sheen of gold. Roy would look at her with admiration for a while, and then Sherry shouted, "Goldeneye, there!"
She ran over to Roy, swinging her net around. The witcher set his senses to Sherry's vicinity and saw a yellow butterfly with black lines on its wings fluttering across a patch of thistle. A monarch butterfly.
It leapt from one purple flower to the next, as if saying hello to them. Roy crouched among the grass like a cat ready to pounce at its prey, while Sherry stayed by his side, carefully standing on her tiptoes. Roy could feel her ponytail brushing against the nape of his neck, and he could smell the scent coming off her.
Slowly, Roy moved closer to the monarch butterfly. When they were only a few inches away from the butterfly, the girl hopped ahead and swung her net down, but the butterfly flew away like it was blown by a gust of wind, easily evading the girl's net.
The girl pouted, but then she saw another net zipping past her. It was so fast, she almost couldn't see it clearly. A moment later, Roy had already caught the butterfly, and he winked at her.
"Awesome, Goldie!" Sherry spun around in delight and carefully tucked the butterfly into a cage she brought. And she beamed like a girl who had just gotten her favorite toy. "So, shall we continue?"
"Very well."
Quite a while had gone by, but the sun was still shining in the sky, and the watermill turned on and on.
Giggles and laughter echoed in the air, and then the witcher and the girl finally stopped their little game. They sat underneath the watermill, golden rays of sunset raining down on their shoulders. They swung their feet in the water, letting its cool waves lap away their exhaustion.
"Thank you, Goldie. It's been a while since I had this much fun." Beads of sweat trickled down her cheeks. She stared at the blues and monarchs in her cage, a big smile curling her lips, her eyes gleaming little stars. "Look at them. They're beautiful."
"They are." Roy enjoyed the view. Fluttering butterflies, blooming flowers, a gurgling stream, and an adorable young lady having the time of her life. For a moment, he felt his soul settling. And he smiled. "So why are you collecting these butterflies? Are you going to make them into specimens?"
Sherry shook her head. "It's just for fun." Sherry kicked away at the water, her legs glimmering like beautiful pearls under the sunshine. "It's been a long time since someone came with me on a butterfly hunt."
"Really?" Roy doubted that. "Caroline and the villagers seem to love you. I think they'll be happy to play with you."
"It's… different," Sherry whispered. Then she smiled sweetly at Roy. "Let's talk about the butterflies. We caught them together, Goldie. You can decide what happens to them."
"I see." Roy stared into Sherry's eyes, and he shook his head. "I can go with anything. You decide."
Sherry mused over her decision, and then she said loudly, "Why don't we let them go, then? Butterflies are the best when they can fly around freely."
"Good idea."
***
Sherry saw the butterflies off, and then she smiled mysteriously at Roy. There was a hint of a plea in her eyes, as if she was worried he might refuse her next request. "As for my second wish, I want to play a game of hide-and-seek. You're It. I'll hide somewhere around the village. If you catch me, I'll give you a surprise."
Roy looked at the setting sun and frowned in hesitation. But he nodded in the end.
"Let's do this! Face the banana tree and count to one hundred. Count loudly. I have to be able to hear it." Sherry huddled closer to the witcher and held his hands. Cutely, she said, "No cheating. Cheaters get punished."
She then stood behind Roy and blew at her bangs. "I'm great at hiding. If you can't find me, you can always ask the villagers for clues."
***
The village smiled upon the setting sun. A witcher stood on the village's streets, staring at the ground dumbly. Countless ribbons intertwined in the air, leading into the villagers' houses. But no matter how much he tried, he couldn't find the ribbon belonging to Sherry. Yet her scent still lingered around his nose.
Even so, he could find no trace of Sherry. It felt like she had disappeared into thin air. Okay, this almost never happened. "Weird. I can't cheat, so I'll have to find her manually."
***
Wonder where she's hiding. He searched the village, but there was no sign of Sherry anywhere. In the end, he went to her house, but only Caroline was around.
"She's playing hide-and-seek?" Caroline was in the kitchen. She pushed her bangs back and smiled. "I see she has taken a liking to you."
"I think she feels lonely. Don't you guys play with her?" Roy asked. He was still wondering why Sherry made those wishes. It felt like she wanted a playmate. "Everyone loves her. They won't refuse her, will they?"
"The villagers used to be harsh on her. Nobody would go near her except for me."
"Why?" asked Roy. "She's a beautiful and gentle soul. Why would the villagers hate her? And why did they start liking her?"
"Our village used to be abysmally poor. That was the only thing everyone ever talked about." Caroline stopped talking for a moment, and she tensed up. But then she smiled. "But one day, Sherry stumbled upon a silver mine when she was playing in the mountains. And things changed for the better. The villagers were starving no longer, and everyone started making money. They feel indebted to Sherry, so they started harboring affection for her."
So Maslow's hierarchy of needs, then? First their physical needs are met, and then they can afford kindness.
"She knows everyone in the village now." Caroline smiled. "Maybe she thinks you'll be a better playmate. Perhaps offer her a challenge."
"Do you know where she's hiding, then?" Roy whispered. He felt a little embarrassed. I'm an expert tracker. Can't believe I have to ask an average woman for help. "Or her usual haunt?"
"Try the beach. She loves to see the sunset alone."
***
To the west of Redmount was a vast forest filled with lush greenery, a waterfall thundering down a cliff, and a watermill. On its right was a slope leading to the golden sands facing the vast, glimmering ocean.
Beyond the horizon was the setting sun, saying its goodbye before passing the torch to the night. Dazzling colors swam and swirled in the skies and sea, and beside the waters, Roy saw an old man. He wore a straw hat and held a rod and an empty wooden bucket, his skin red from exposure to the elements.
"Ah, visitor. Here to find Sherry, I s'pose?" He grinned toothily at Roy, wrinkles scrunching up his face.
"Have you seen her? Is she hiding here?"
"Oh, I can't break the rules. Sorry, visitor." The old man pinched his goatee.
"What will make you change your mind?"
"I can give you a clue, but we'll have to make a deal."
"I make no guarantees."
"Just try your best, then."
"Fine." Roy heaved a sigh. He thought the villagers were a bit odd, though he felt no malice coming from them.
"Sherry had a bad past. She's keeping her feelings bottled up." The old man sighed. "Try to cheer her up. Play along with her if you can."
"What kind of past?" Roy asked, "Can I have more details?"
The old man wouldn't tell him anything. "You'll know. If she is willing to tell. So, do we have a deal?"
"I will try my best, but I make no guarantees."
The old man patted his hat and stayed quiet for a while. "Fine. But remember, she likes poetry. If you can't find her, try reciting a poem or two."
…
"I see you, Sherry!" Roy shouted into the air and quickly stepped on the sands, pacing back and forth. But he received no response no matter how long he shouted. "Weird. Why isn't she taking the bait? She should've fallen for that easily."
But no matter how long Roy searched, he couldn't find Sherry. "Did they lie to me? Am I searching in the wrong direction?" Gods, at this rate, I'll have to go with that.
Embarrassed, Roy paced around. Finally, he saw no way out, and he sighed. "Not like anyone I know is here. I'll just take a leaf out of Dandelion's page. Let's name this poem… Sherry." I hope this'll work.
Roy coughed and took a deep breath. He puffed his chest out and looked into the distance, where the ocean murmured.
"Into the sand I tread
The village behind me
Quaint and quiet
The setting sun waves
And beyond the sands I see
Sherry, coming to me
Her hair, golden as the sun
Her lips, red as a cherry
Gently she goes
Through the sands
To me she comes."
The sound of Roy's recital echoed across the air. It wasn't professional, nor was it filled with too much emotion, but Roy made sure it was loud. And his voice echoed through the air.
"Her hair, golden as the sun
Her lips, red as a cherry
Gently she goes
Through the sands
To me she comes."
Roy felt the sand beneath him shiver, and then a petite figure broke through the surface. It was Sherry. Her face was red, and tears glistened in her eyes. The water in the sand drenched her dress, and now her dress clung tightly on her skin. Her shoulders trembled, and she started to cry.
"Sorry, Sherry. Have you been waiting long?"
"No." The girl wouldn't stop crying. "I just never thought someone would write a poem for me." She stared at the witcher, moved. "Thank you, Goldie. This is the happiest day of my life. A-And am I really that beautiful?" She muttered. "Hair golden as the sun and lips red as cherries."
"Of course. You're the most beautiful girl in Redmount." Did I go too far? I probably shouldn't have learned from Dandelion. He said, "Like everyone in the village, I adore you."
"Can I record that poem?"
"Of course. It's yours."
The girl stared down in excitement. A moment later, she stepped into the shallow seas and scooped up some water to wash the sands off her, and her skin seemed to glisten. Yet Roy had a feeling she looked lonely. Like she never had someone in her life who cared for her before.
Roy sighed. Wait. Something's off. He turned around and saw a lot of villagers standing behind the fence beyond this beach. They were smiling at the both of them, not unlike parents seeing off their daughter before she got married.
And yet, Roy couldn't shake the unease he was feeling. The smile, the glimmer in their eyes, their expressions… They all look the same.
"You've granted two of my three wishes. I'm really happy. I don't know how to thank you," Sherry spoke. "But now it's time for my third wish. Please, come with me. To… the ruins at the mountain's base."
***
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