Witch on Holiday

Oh, and I’m such a helpless witch. Just like in the song about an apprentice mage. I can’t cast spells properly because my hands are… well, you get it. Everything about me is not like everyone else’s. And now—I've received a house as an inheritance; it seems I should just live, settle in, and enjoy nature. But no. Either the goblin fights with a kikiimora, or the house spirit argues with a familiar. The roof leaks, the house slides into a swamp, the porch has practically fallen apart. No, you can’t live like this any longer! We’ll improve our living conditions—build a new village! Was I studying to become an urbanist for nothing? And nothing that there are no roads—only routes. We’ll conjure. Things are getting fishy…