Howl and the Promise of Stars: Sophie's Magic Beyond Death - The Cursed Hatter's Daughter: Encounter with the Moving Castle

She gripped the brim of the hat tight. Her fingertips went white. In the mirror, her own eyes met hers. —It doesn't suit me. Someone said it inside her head. Probably, it was herself. Sophie Hatter narrowed her deep green eyes. Her chestnut hair was long, braided, and tied with a red ribbon—her grandmother's keepsake. A faded green dress, a white apron. From any angle, she was just a plain hatmaker's daughter. She traced the small mole above her left eyebrow. "...I knew it. It doesn't suit me." Saying it out loud only made her believe it more. In her hands was a hat she'd finished herself yesterday. A pale blue ribbon, the brim tilted just slightly upward. Put it on display, and it would sell well enough. But on her head, it looked wrong. "Sophie! You'll be late if you don't leave now!" Her sister's voice flew up from downstairs. Bright. Bouncing. Sophie set the hat on the bed and opened the window. Morning air poured into the room. The town of Berdine was full of steam again today. Far off, a steam train whistled. A high, thin piiiii. Carriages clattered over the cobblestones. From the bakery chimney, the smell of fresh bread rose. Wheat, butter, and a touch of sugar. The scent stirred her empty stomach. "Sophie, can you hear me?" "Yes, I'm coming." Sophie took a deep breath and left the room. Berdine, capital of the kingdom of Berdine. A city of a hundred and twenty thousand, thriving on the hat trade. Hat workshops on every corner. Every Saturday, a hat market filled Crown Plaza. Today was a market day. Sophie's home was a hat workshop called Hat House. Her father, Robert, came from a long line of hatmakers. Her mother, Hannah, had vanished ten years ago. Since then, it was just her father, her sister Lettie, and her. "Sophie, you're wearing that again?" Downstairs, Lettie stood with an exasperated look. Lettie was Sophie's opposite in every way. Bright blonde curls, a sky-blue dress. In the morning light, she glittered like a doll. "It's work." "You could dress up once in a while, you know. You're pretty, big sister." "...I'm not pretty." Sophie smiled faintly and lifted the basket packed with hats. "There you go again. Your hats are getting a reputation around town. Have some confidence." "The one with a reputation is Father's work." "Honestly, you're so stubborn." Lettie laughed. Seeing that smile, something in Sophie's chest gave a small, sharp ache. —I can never be like Lettie. Again, someone said it inside her. Probably, it was herself. Sophie shifted the basket in her arms and slipped out the back door. Berdine was alive from the morning on. Carts rumbled along the cobblestones. Merchants shouted for customers. "Fresh fish, fresh fish!" "Bread's out of the oven!" "Hat repairs, right here!" Sophie wove through the crowd. Her basket bumped shoulders, nearly clipped passersby. "Sorry—" She apologized again and again on her way to Crown Plaza. Crown Plaza was the great square at the heart of Berdine. In the center stood an old fountain honoring the Star Children. Around it, stalls of every color. Sophie spread her wares in the usual spot. A little away from the fountain, in the shade. This was Hat House's fixed place. "Sophie dear, lovely hats again today." "Thank you. Would you like to try one on?" "Which one suits an old thing like me, I wonder." Sophie offered a subdued hat that would suit the woman's white hair. Deep red. Wide brim. "Oh, how lovely. How much?" "Eighty gold." "My, that's cheap. I'll take it." Beaming, the woman pulled out her purse. Sophie wrapped the hat carefully and handed it over. "Thank you. Please come again." "I will, I will. Your hats sit so nicely on the head." The old woman walked off happily, hat already on. Sophie watched her go and let out a small breath. —My hats, huh. Lately, some customers did say they preferred Sophie's hats. But that was only because of her father's craftsmanship. All she'd made was the ribbon. And when she stood in the shop, the customers all called for Lettie. "Hey there, beautiful." "Tea with me sometime?" "I'd buy a hat from you." Lettie always turned them down with a smile. But behind that smile, Sophie could see she was troubled. —If only I could take her place. She thought it sometimes. But if she did, no one would be happy. "Hey, you hear? Talk about a Star Spirit contractor again." From the next stall, men's voices drifted over. "Near Ravencloft, right? Someone saw a glowing kid." "Yeah, yeah. A Star Child. Contract one of those and you get incredible magic." "Don't be stupid. You know the Star Spirit Ban. It's been a hundred and fifty years. Contract and it's the death penalty." "I know. But rumor says some still do it in secret. You hand over your heart." "Your heart? That's sick." "Right? The Star Children give you nothing. They only take. It's in the old books." Sophie listened without meaning to. A Star Spirit contract. A spirit born from a star in the night sky. You give your heart, and in return, you gain immense magic. But the contractor's feelings dull. In the end, they lose their heart. A hundred and fifty years ago, in the Star Spirit War, contractors nearly destroyed the kingdom. Now it was forbidden. —Giving up your heart. That's terrifying. Sophie pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart beat. Thump. Thump. Such an ordinary thing. And yet, it felt unbearably precious. "Sophie, lunch." Lettie stood there with bread and cheese. "Thanks. But I haven't sold out yet." "You have to eat. Here, I got this at the edge of the market. Still warm." Lettie held out bread wrapped in paper. Still warm. Sophie took it without arguing. "...Thank you." She tore off a piece and put it in her mouth. The sweetness of the wheat spread slowly. "Delicious." "Right? Oh—let's go to that shop together sometime. You like sweets, big sister." "Yes. Sure." Lettie sat down beside her, smiling. "Did anything strange happen today?" "Strange?" "Yeah. I've had this bad feeling since morning. Like something's wrong." "I'm fine. Same as always." "Yeah? Okay then." Lettie's brow furrowed, just a little. That was when it happened. "You. The hatmaker's girl." A rasping voice, right beside her. Sophie turned. An old woman stood there. Ninety, maybe. Thin gray curls, tangled like a swallow's nest. Her clothes were rags, caked in mud. Her back was bent. In one hand, a broken wooden staff. And her face. One eye was a beautiful emerald. The other was clouded white. That clouded eye fixed on Sophie. "...Me?" "Aye. You." The hag grinned. "I'm sorry—can I help you?" Sophie asked as politely as she could. But cold sweat ran down her back. "I'm hungry. Spare something, will you." The hag held out a filthy hand. "Big sister, don't." Lettie tugged at Sophie's sleeve. "It's fine. Just a little." Sophie held out the rest of her lunch bread. "If this is all right." The hag took it and stared at it. Then, slowly, she looked up at Sophie's face. "...You're a kind girl." The voice had changed. Not the rasp from before. Low. Young. A woman's voice. "But kindness, child, sometimes kills." The hag's face twisted grotesquely. "You don't value yourself." The moment those words landed— —Thump. Her heart lurched. "Wh-what are you—" "I see it. I see it. You always put yourself last. You live for someone else. Don't you?" "...No." "Lies. Your eyes say it. You think you're worth nothing. Don't you?" The clouded eye glinted. "Big sister, run!" Lettie yanked Sophie's hand hard. But her body wouldn't move. Her feet were stuck to the cobblestones. "Foolish girl." The hag pointed the broken staff at Sophie. "The Star Children give nothing. They only take. So be taken." Black mist burst from the staff's tip. "Wh-what—" The mist coiled like a snake and wrapped around her body. "Sophie!" Lettie's scream came from far away. Pain shot through her entire body. Her bones creaked and groaned. Her skin dried like paper. Her fingers shrank and curled. "N-no... Aaaaaah!" Sophie clutched herself and collapsed. "...Ahh, yes. That face." The hag smiled, satisfied. "My name is Elma Knott. The Witch of the Waste. Suffer in that body as long as you can." Elma Knott vanished, wrapped in black mist. "Big sister! Big sister, stay with me!" Lettie shook Sophie's shoulders. "...Lettie...?" No voice came. Her throat was bone-dry. "Big sister... no, this can't be..." Lettie's face was frozen in terror. Sophie lifted a trembling hand and touched her own face. —What is this. Her skin was hard. Like old tree bark. "Mirror... a mirror..." Sophie forced the words out. Crying, Lettie held out a hand mirror. Sophie peered into it. —What she saw. The face of a ninety-year-old woman, covered in deep wrinkles. "Nooooo!" Sophie threw the mirror down and stood. "Big sister, where are you going?!" "Don't follow me!" Sophie shook off Lettie's hand and ran. She ran blindly through the crowd. "What's with that old hag?" "Gross." "Get out of the way!" People looked at her and scowled. —No. I'm Sophie. Sophie Hatter, eighteen years old. She screamed it inside. No one heard. Her voice was an old woman's rasp. Sophie ran to the edge of town and finally stopped. Out of breath, hands on her knees. "...Hah... hah..." Tears spilled over. But crying changed nothing. —I can't go home. Not like this. Not to Father. Not to Lettie. —I can't stand in the shop. Who would buy a hat from an old hag? —I'm already— Sophie looked up at the evening sky. It burned red. That red felt like the color of her despair. Sophie staggered out of town. She had nowhere to go. And yet, her feet turned east on their own. Toward the Waste. Toward the barren land where no one lived. The setting sun cast her long shadow on the ground. The shadow was the shape of a ninety-year-old woman. "...What's going to happen to me?" Saying it aloud only made the tears come faster. —That was when. Rumble rumble rumble... A sound like the earth groaning rolled in from far away. Sophie raised her head. In the twilight, a massive shape rose. Spewing smoke, it crept closer. —That's. A moving castle. The castle of the legendary wizard, Howl Pendragon. Sophie stood frozen, staring up at it. The castle looked like iron, wood, and stone jammed together at random. Chimneys jutted out in every direction, black smoke pouring from each. Its legs were thin as a bird's, stepping firmly with each stride. "...A moving castle..." Sophie walked toward its door. —This is the only place. The only place left to go. With trembling hands, she knocked. Knock, knock, knock. "Someone! Is anyone there?!" No answer. She knocked harder. Knock, knock, knock! "Please! Open up!" The door creaked open. Hot wind rushed out. Sophie shut her eyes on instinct. "...Who the hell are you?" A low voice. She opened her eyes. A fire burned in the hearth. No—the fire was talking. "A fire... demon..." "Yeah, that's right. I'm Calcifer. The heart of this castle." Calcifer fixed her with eyes of burning orange and red. The flame was about a foot tall, its shape wavering. "You human? You're awful old." "...I'm eighteen." "Huh? Eighteen? You're kidding. You look ninety." "It's a curse. From the Witch of the Waste." "The Witch of the Waste?" His flame flickered pale blue for an instant. "...You got the attention of something nasty." "Please. Let me stay here. I'll clean, I'll do laundry, anything." "Huh? A cleaning lady? Do you even know what this castle is?" "A moving castle. Howl Pendragon's." "Right. This is a wizard's castle. Not a place for ordinary people." "I came because I'm not ordinary." Sophie looked straight at Calcifer. Calcifer went quiet for a moment. Then his flame shrank. "...You're a funny old lady." The door banged open. "Calcifer, I'm back. You moved the castle too much. I'm exhausted." A man stepped inside. —Howl Pendragon. Sophie forgot to

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Name: Howl and the Promise of Stars: Sophie's Magic Beyond Death
Author: Novelia

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