The Witch and Her Second Chance

14 | All mixed up

The cabin was adorable—the kind of witches' cabin in the woods you would expect. Wildflowers were in the front garden, and a stone pathway led up to the front porch. A rocking chair with a blanket was sitting there, waiting for company.

He couldn't help but smile. He had also read about the human superstition of witches, and this was spot on. He knocked on the door, hoping she was home.

When the door opened, he stood frozen and blinked several times, feeling confused. She was younger than he was expecting, maybe in her mid-twenties, but that wasn't the cause of his confusion.

It took him a few seconds to collect himself and utter the words he'd planned to say: "Hello. I am Master Verin. I was informed you are the witch, Millasandro." He added, "I am here on behalf of the Sharaya nation, reviewing recent claims of extrasensory experiences in the area."

She eyed him. "Okay.”

"Have you experienced any of the reported occurrences?"

He could see she was weighing whether to share something with him. Her beauty was apparent, but that wasn't what was throwing him. It was her eyes. He saw her big green eyes, and it confused him.

"Why are you investigating this?" She asked suspiciously.

"So we can understand if this is related to the portal and, if so, if it will help us understand why it closed in the first place," he stated honestly, a slight twinge of bewilderment colouring his tone. Verin felt a sense of familiarity with the young woman, and it was off-putting, unable to connect it to a memory.

Her gaze scrutinised him in return, distrust evident in her expression. After a few beats, she seemed to decide, her shoulders relaxing infinitesimally. "Yes. I have experienced it."

She efficiently informed him of the times she felt it, not inviting him in and just talking at the door. He noted the times she recalled like a dictation, only looking up from his pad once she was done. Each occurrence differed from the time recorded at the clearing where the portal used to be. All were before those recorded at the clearing. Interesting… this implied the essence was rolling into the clearing. It helped him pinpoint a few hypotheses to set up additional sensors.

"Are you sure those were the exact times?" He asked for thoroughness. She had been quite specific about each one, but he had to be just as sure to trust the data.

She raised her eyebrow, "I am sure."

He tried not to smile at her response to his small challenge. There was something so familiar about her…

"You were here each time?"

She nodded.

"Thank you." Verin hesitated, "Can I ask when the portal closed–"

"I was overseas at the time." She shook her head, guessing his question, her strawberry-blonde hair bouncing with the motion.

"How did you know it was closed?" he asked, trying to keep his tone delicate.

The witch sighed, "My sister called me. I didn't even feel that it wasn't there anymore."

"Your sister, was she nearby?" He noticed her imperceptible concern at his question.

She shook her head. "She was my only other family that wasn’t within the Coven then. I'm luckier than others."

He gave her his contact details. "If your sister can contact me–anything from that time, no matter how small a detail, may help me in my investigation."

He clicked his cuff back on as he approached the city. He had information now but still felt a long way off cracking this.

~*~

Verin was mulling over his visit with the witch. There had been something about her. A familiarity that he couldn't place.

Back at the hotel, he was trying to relax. After a bath, he was now lounging in a robe. Music was playing, just a local radio station–Warlocks didn’t make art like other races. They had painters–phenomenal crafters who imbued their work with a type of spell that retained an image of the subject's essence. The artwork, if it could be called that, was usually of historical importance, so it was not used as a form of expression. As an artificer, Verin had a craft, but aesthetics was not the goal.

A knock at his door startled him from his thoughts.

"Jo?" He looked past her, but she was alone. "What are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see you." His words slowed a little as he looked at her face.

It clicked.

She entered and sat on the sofa. "I think we need to talk."

He sat next to her, placing his hand on her knees automatically as she turned to face him and lifted her legs up and under her as she sat. He studied her face as she fingered the bracelet he wore. It was the artifice that masked what he was. He couldn't quite keep the look of surprise from his face–that witch had looked like Jo. That was why she looked so familiar. He'd never asked for the sister's name…

"You're not human, are you?" Jo kept her gaze down.

He shook his head, "And neither are you."

She shook her head. "I don't know how I didn't sense it." She looked into his eyes.

He raised his hand, showing the cuff. "It's to disguise who I am. It is terribly designed, though, and has actually dampened my magic. I didn't realise until today just how much."

"So… you're…" she seemed unable to voice it.

"A warlock," he smiled. He didn't see any issue with her knowing. He could be more himself if she knew. "Does Jackie know you're a witch?"

Jo sat back on the couch. "Sort of. I told her, but I don't think she believes or understands what it means."

"Does she know about other...?" He left the question open. There was so much more than humans in this existence, and he knew humans were broadly kept in the dark.

"Oh goddess, no." Jo exhaled. "Could you imagine? This reality is a horror show."

Verin took her hand. "Did you feel the disturbances?"

Jo shook her head. Verin thought about the distance from the portal to the city, completing mental math to see if a dissipation could be why she didn’t.

"Can you tell me where you were when the portal closed?"

Jo clammed up. Her reaction to the question made him sit straighter. "Were you nearby?"

"What do you think is happening?" She asked instead of answering.

"I can't say confidently yet, but I have a few theories."

"Do you think how it closed relates to what is happening now?"

"I don't know." He wasn't going to pretend he knew anything for certain. "I am gathering as much information as possible, hoping something lines up."

She pulled her hand from his, shuffling away from him a little and drawing her knees up to her chest. He resisted the urge to hold her, respecting her desire for personal space.

"Only Missy knows this…" Jo took a breath. "I was eighteen. I was living back in the coven after schooling. I had just found my goddess-given mate," Verin felt a clench in his chest at her words. "It was only weeks into us finding each other." She smiled sadly. "He was so beautiful." She glanced at Verin, her eyes glassy. "It was just a stupid accident, and then he was dead. I–I just remember that I wanted it to stop… the moment of him dying to just… stop–" Her voice broke. "Then it felt like my chest was being ripped open, and I let go. The next thing I remember is waking up in the woods, and the portal was gone."

Her grief and guilt drew across her face. She had bottled everything up all these ten long years, with only her sister knowing what had happened. Missy hadn't wanted Jo to tell anyone–she was scared Jo would be punished. And although Jo thought she should have been punished, she let Missy talk her into keeping it a secret.

And now Verin knew.

"Can I hold you?" He asked gently.

She nodded. His arms circling around her broke the dam, and she sobbed into his chest.

He didn't let go of her until she was completely cried out. He helped wipe her tears, placing small kisses on her face. "It wasn't your fault. You had no way to know what that kind of intent could do to a spell." He thought about it. "Witches draw power from within, yes."

She nodded, "We can act as conduits as well. I always figured I accidentally pulled the power out of my world. But I don't know how I did it," she swallowed. “And I don't understand why it kicked me out. I should have died with everyone." Her face started to fall again.

"Hey. Look at me." He hooked her chin. "It's okay to grieve and to be sorry, but do not fall with them."

He kissed her forehead. "Maybe there's something about your magic. I can do a quick scan and see if there is anything—" He clicked the side of his cuff to remove it. The moment the cuff left his wrist, he felt a flood of his senses, his eyes widening as he felt the presence of Jo's magic and a tug in his center, like falling and flying all at once.

"Oh s**t," Jo whispered.

~*~