Cherna/Memories

## Chapter 1

Ahh... It's getting moldy again.

I only drew this 10 days ago, but I guess the antiseptics didn't work.

I'll have to dry the house with more fire next time...

This nearly eternal rain that people call the "Curse" is truly my worst nightmare.

The humidity keeps ruining all my paint pigments and canvases.

Looks like even this portrait of my apprentice is gonna have to be repainted.

Hah... Sorry—I don't have any more tools.

Looks like I won't be able to see you for a while.

## Chapter 2

For some fresh air, I left the moldy portrait and went outside.

But, all I saw were thick clouds and sunken ruins...

Jeez, what a boring scenery.

If this stupid Curse had never existed, would these streets still be filled with the same energy they once had before?

My apprentice...and my friends... Would they all still be laughing by my side?

My painting buddies were the first to go, and then everyone else frantically followed,

as if cursed creatures were chasing after them.

There are so many better places out there. Of course they'd leave.

Hmm...

Now then, I wonder if there's anything I can use to paint with.

## Chapter 3

I'm what people call a "witch," and I know this world sees me as a nuisance.

Which is why I *chose* to stay in the ruins. There's probably nowhere else that would accept me anyway.

Just as those thoughts ran through my mind, I noticed the silhouette of a corpse in an abandoned building.

That...looks like my childhood friend.

...Ahh, one of the creatures must've killed you when you were leaving town, huh?

My apprentice...and now you...

You're all so unlucky.

## Chapter 4

Now then, the list of things I need to paint keeps getting bigger, but I've got nothing to paint them with.

Hmm... I'll just crush these bones and use them as paint pigment then.

The picture's only gonna be one color, but bear with it, okay?

This place has no ethics or morals.

At best, there's my self-satisfaction and sentimentality.

Red, crimson, vermillion, scarlet, and white—those are all of his colors.

I fill the canvas with different shades and shadows, chasing after the image of him I have in my memory.

With what little materials I have, I've only got one shot to get this portrait right.

To engrave the life he once lived with his own colors.

This portrait was never intended for his funeral. It's really just for myself.

And so, as the all too familiar sound of rain filled my ears, I let my brush run free.

## Chapter 5

Days passed and I was able to finish his portrait just as my materials were about to run out.

...But, this painting'll probably rot away after I die, huh?

That's fine, I guess. It happens.

But, the fact that there was once a city here... the fact that people once happily lived their lives here...

It's kinda sad that those memories'll get washed away.

When the rain stops, guess I'll paint an even bigger picture.

## Chapter 6

Creating a masterpiece takes time.

It's been a while since I basked in the sun's rays, but I still haven't finished the picture.

So, on a whim, I decided to paint one of you—yes you—the lord around here as the subject.

Hm? Oh, no, it's fine.

Thanks to you, I've got no shortage of painting materials now.

Plus, no matter what materials I use to paint you with, your color'll always stand out anyway.

...Jeez, you sure are a hard one to paint, though.

But, that's all the more reason why I wanted to paint you—someone who's still alive for a change.

What? Do you doubt the skills of the great Cherna—genius painter extraordinaire?

Don't worry, I *won't* disappoint you.