Hope
Even in her dreams, little Ange had to cry, leaning down to do so in a darkened area. Bernkastel approached the little girl quietly. The witch put a hand on the other's head. As Ange put her head up and noticed the visitor, Bernkastel spoke. "Poor thing," she said. Her tone was blank, hardly sympathetic.
"Who are you?" Ange asked, wiping her tears.
"Perhaps the one you're seeking," Bernkastel said.
Ange shook her head. "I want my parents... And my brother."
"Come with me," Bernkastel said, reaching out her hand.
Ange took it, following Bernkastel out of the darkened room and outside, into the flower garden. Once there, she looked around, but didn't seem to notice the beauty of the place, just fluttering around, standing on her tip-toes to see over the rose bushes, going back and forth. Eventually, she went back to Bernkastel. "Where are they?" she asked.
"Who?" Bernkastel asked, feigning ignorance.
"My mom, dad, brother!"
"Not here, are they?" Bernkastel commented casually.
"You said-"
"I didn't say anything. Your family's dead, aren't they? I thought it would be better for you to get some air than just lay around and cry about it," Bernkastel said casually.
Ange clenched her eyes shut, moving her fists near her heart. Bernkastel almost thought she might cry again, but instead Ange took a deep breath. The little girl turned around, now taking the time to enjoy the greenery she'd just looked under and around before.
"You're even younger than I was," Bernkastel said, putting her hand on Ange's shoulder.
"Hm?"
"You're younger than I was, when I lost my own family," Bernkastel said.
Ange nodded, looking toward her current companion briefly before gazing at the ground again. She was young enough for to be horribly affected, without her forgetting just how terrible it truly was in a few years from being too young. Bernkastel giggled briefly as she thought about it.
"What is it?" Ange asked, scowling.
"Nothing really," Bernkastel said. Unlike Ange, maybe she hadn't lost her whole family back then. There was still that overpowered, yet entirely useless piece of Featherine's around. Despite any potential to break the game, in countless worlds that piece had just told her it would be too dangerous for Bernkastel's mental well being to have too much hope for success.
That had been wise. Despite Bernkastel's best efforts, her family couldn't be reasoned with. "Your family is really gone, aren't they?" Bernkastel commented, expecting the young girl to whine or cry about it.
Instead, Ange stomped her foot. "No," she insisted adamantly. "They're not here, but are they really gone forever? Show me proof! Where's their bodies?"
Though Ange was so perfectly resolute, Bernkastel had to chuckle again. She sat back on the bench, then reached her hand up to pat the little girl on the head. "Right, there's no proof," she said. Despite how desolate the situation was, Ange's analytical nature had this much to hold onto.
Ange's expression seemed to lighten as Bernkastel repeated her words. "So then..."
"They still haven't come back to you. Wouldn't they, if they survived? Since they love you and all," Bernkastel said.
Ange winced, her already damaged heart taking another hit just at the simple counter argument. Maybe she wasn't cut out to be a witch after all. Bernkastel turned away, becoming less interested in this minor player.
"No!" Ange shouted out. She swallowed before she spoke again, getting that determined expression back. "Who knows what happened! There could be any reason they aren't here."
"I suppose," Bernkastel said. She noticed Ange again reacted positively, relaxing her posture a bit just from the brief response. This girl had just a bit of potential. "Come here," Bernkastel said, scooting over and inviting Ange to sit next to her. Ange climbed up, deciding to do so.
As they enjoyed the warm breeze, Bernkastel ran her hand through Ange's hair in an imitation of maternal comfort. Ange lay down on Bernkastel's lap after that tiny gesture. In the lull, the witch consider that after the destruction of her family, she'd found others to love and support her. As a human, perhaps Ange could do the same. Then again, her situation wasn't cozy and full of familiar people. Even so, she could move on to something new.
Bernkastel sighed. "Can I tell you a secret?" she asked.
"What?" Ange asked.
"I have a talent that allow me to see things. I can tell you the possibility of success that you'll see anyone in your beloved family again," Bernkastel said.
Ange grabbed Bernkastel's dress. She seemed like she might cry, but then had another adamant expression. "Don't think I'll believe some fortune teller."
"Hmph." Bernkastel said. "Think about it that way if you want, but I still know the absolute truth."
Ange gasped, gripping onto Bernkastel tighter. In the concrete world, perhaps it couldn't be believed, but in this kind of world, Ange could sense Bernkastel was telling the truth. "Don't-" she began.
"The possibility isn't quite zero, but close enough. It's very, very unlikely. The low percentage is something a five-year-old couldn't comprehend. Something like a miracle, you might say. Though it's possible, it's unlikely to happen to you in just one lifetime, or even a hundred."
Though Bernkastel's assessment was analytical and cold, basically saying Ange's family wouldn't return, the witch may as well have said that Ange's family was all coming back to her tomorrow. Ange's face relaxed, her eyes lighting up. She sat up, smiling as she looked in Bernkastel's eyes. "How can I get them back?" she asked after she stood up from the bench.
"That would be extremely difficult, beyond the abilities of a human," Bernkastel said.
"If you know the possibility, you should know how to get them back. Tell me," Ange insisted.
Bernkastel shrugged, leaning her hand against her face. "Well, like I said, it is possible," she said dryly.
"I'll do anything!" Ange insisted.
Bernkastel was silent, considering what to do. Featherine's piece had practically insisted that Bernkastel give up, just passively watch what happened and maybe things would be successful. Remembering her disappointment when things can gone wrong in the seemingly endless worlds, Bernkastel considered in hindsight that even though awful, that seemingly cruel advice may have been for the best.
Bernkastel pat Ange's head again, then stroked her hair, still not touching the beloved trinkets that her brother had gifted to her. "Will you really do anything?" Bernkastel asked.
"Yeah," Ange said with a nod.
Such a determined piece could be useful, and a useful piece was what Bernkastel had wanted in the first place when coming here. The Witch of Miracles nodded. "Alright," she said. "I'll return to help you with acquiring your miracle soon."
"Really?" Ange said.
"Yes. For now, just be sure to hope," Bernkastel finished before she disappeared from the dream. Hope was necessary. It could be a witch's greatest enemy.
In useless excess, it was also what made a witch.