I was sleeping.

  I was tired.

  For once, I could feel it. And for once, I didn’t force it away.

  The world was still dark outside, the sun had yet to rise.

  Normally, I would have peeled my eyes open forcefully. I had to start early in the day, no matter what happened the night before.

  But today, I could not manage even that little bit of strength.

  The will to fight had faded from me entirely.

  I let the sweet whisper of sleep gently pull me away from my mortal coil, lulling me back to an unconcerned slumber.

  And so, I slept.

  I did not dream, not of the past, nor the future.

  No strange, unplaceable memories of a bygone life passed me by, and no hopeful, idyllic futures ignited a great burning survival instinct within me.

  I simply let it all go, and let it all fade to black.

  The painful burning and aching of my feet as muscles tore and blisters swelled, the emptiness in my bones as every last store of energy burned away, the dry redness of my eyes as my tear ducts ran out; I just let the pain take me.

  It was alright now. I didn’t have to keep on fighting. I didn’t have to keep on struggling and suffering.

  That woman, Belle Symphonia, she promised me.

  She promised me that everything would be okay, so I slept.

  I slept, and the hours passed.

  The hours passed, and the sun rose.

  And the sun, for once, rose gently and warmly. Strange, considering it was in the depths of winter; perhaps it had always been this warm, and I had just never let myself feel it.

  Rays of light poked through the window, crawling across the room as morning arrived.

  I felt the blackness of my eyelids take on a softer hue. My nerves came to life with the light’s gentle caress, its comforting touch massaging away the pain.

  I stirred, and my eyes slowly opened.

  I hadn’t let the sun wake me naturally in months.

  My thoughts returned to me.

  I-...

  Was I on a bed?

  No, wait. I was on a bed, but not in it.

  I was leaning forwards onto one, and I had my arms folded over on another, and my head was resting on top of them.

  My arms fell limply as I slowly unfolded them.

  I looked to the side.

  Sunlight crept in through a glass window.

  When was the last time I had seen that; a sunrise peeking through a window as I rose from a night’s sleep, waking me with its touch?

  It was a long, long time ago. It had to have been before I died, before I even flew to France.

  Those times… they felt like an eternity ago.

  I looked around.

  I was in a motel room. Curtains, plain walls, a simple desk… there-...

  There wasn’t anything I could say about it.

  It was all just so normal.

  Normal enough to bring me to tears with its familiar, yet novel normality. I felt something deep inside my soul tremble at the meagre comfort that the shabby sight brought to my soul, almost reducing me to tears on the spot.

  And at last, as my eyes swept across the room, my sister came into sight.

  A small spark of panic shot through me as the last remnants of the previous night’s hazy memories flashed in my mind.

  I shot up, feeling my heart pump hot blood into my body, dispelling the last of the weariness I had accumulated in my sleep.

  My sister!

  She-...

  I paused, my breath freezing.

  She was asleep.

  She was comfortable.

  She curled cutely into the bed in front of me, folding herself deeper into the thick blanket’s embrace to keep the sheets close to her chest.

  I exhaled shakily.

  I found myself unable to breathe back in, my chest clogged with emotions.

  I lifted my trembling palm, and stroked across her cheeks.

  She was warm.

  Not freezing, not burning.

  Just warm.

  She mumbled sleepily, unconsciously moving into my fingers.

  The dam inside me broke, and I found myself sobbing.

  She was alive. I was alive. Everything was going to be fine.

  Behind me, as I cried, the door to the bathroom opened, and a sleepy older woman tumbled out of the a bathroom.

  I stumbled away from the bed, barely able to make out the woman’s figure through my tears.

  I pushed myself onto the hard floor, scraping my knees as I slammed my forehead into the ground, kowtowing to her.

  “Thank you, thank you…” I grovelled beneath her, tucking my head further and further in, bowing up and down in gratitude.

  “Thank yo-”

  A hand grabbed my head forcefully, stopping me from humiliating myself any further.

  I closed my eyes, trying to muster the strength to stop the stobs, a small bit of fear running through me.

  I didn’t know what she wanted to do, but whatever it was, I would take it. Whatever abuse or humiliation she wanted to put me through, whether she wanted to hi-

  I heard a sigh.

  My feet were lifted off the floor, the hand on my head sliding to hold me up from the back of my shoulders and neck as her other arm came beneath my knees.

  “Why the hell does a kid your age know a gesture like that?”

  I opened my eyes, fearful and confused.

  All she had done was place me into a spare bed.

  A slightly mournful scowl rested on her face.

  “Seriously, the hell have you been through, kid? They make you do that on the streets round here?”

  She gave me a pitying look.

  “I-...” I swallowed.

  I didn’t know what else there was for me to say.

  “T-thank you,” I mumbled, repeating myself like a broken machine. I bowed my head lightly, “than-”

  “Stop it with the gratitude, kid. You’re gonna make me feel like shit.”

  I flinched as she reached out, lightly flicking me on the forehead.

  “...”

  I hung my head in silence.

  The woman – Belle Symphonia, that was her name, right? – ran her fingers through her hair in annoyance.

  “Look, kid, I know I saved your sister’s life, and you’re thankful for that, but I’m not Sol or anything. I don’t go around helping orphans out of the kindness of my heart, and I don’t go delivering salvation to the helpless and desperate.”

  She shot me a tepid glare.

  “I’m not a saint. I’m hardly even a decent person. You know that I was going to just up and leave last night right? I was pissed off, tired as fuck, and I just needed to find that fucking rock. If it wasn’t for that damn detector going off, I would have just shoved you aside. I wouldn’t have even considered it. So don’t thank me, ‘kay?”

  I wanted to tell her that it didn’t matter to me. I didn’t care what kind of person she was, or what her intentions her, her actions were more than enough for me.

  But I just stayed silent. I couldn’t actually think of a way to rebut her – if I opened my mouth, I would just end up thanking her again and annoying her even more.

  “I only stuck around long enough to remember I’m not a heartless bitch because apparently, you have something that I need. It was just sheer luck in the end that saved you, on both our ends.”

  “...”

  After a moment of awkward silence, she sighed again.

  “Again, I didn’t save you out of the goodness of my heart. You’re gonna have to pay a price. So don’t thank me until you’re absolutely sure you can pay it.”

  I recalled the events of last night.

  Right, there was something she had found on me. That miracle was the only reason my sister was still alive.

  I gulped.

  I didn’t know what it was. I was an orphan that had nothing of value except the clothes on my back.

  But whatever it was, I would pay the price. Even if she was an organ harvester and wanted a kidney or a lung.

  “I’ll pay anything,” I stated firmly, “you saved my sister’s life, that’s more than I ever could have asked for. She’s everything to me. You can take it all, I don’t care, as long as you leave her behind.”

  She gave me a pitying glare.

  “Are you sure you can say that kid? Are you really prepared to give up everything? Sure you don’t still think I’m some kind of messiah? What if I told you that I wanted your life?”

  I didn’t even stop to think about it.

  I looked around the bedside counter, looking for something sharp.

  There was a pair of scissors.

  I had to show her I was willing.

  I reached for it and brought it to my-

  “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?”

  The piece of metal in my hand flared brightly, forcing me to cover my eyes. An explosive heat burst from the scissors, making me drop it from my hands.

  But before I could panic about anything else catching fire, I felt the scissors disappear completely.

  I blinked.

  What was that?

  I looked towards the woman in confusion, only to find her panicking, her arm extended towards me as she snapped her fingers.

  Her face twisted in indescribable fury.

  “Dear fucking Sol, what. The fuck. Was THAT!?”

  Her roar made me flinch.

  “Are you-!?” she choked on her words, something from her heart getting lodged in her throat.

  I looked up slowly.

  A terribly sorrowful and guilty mist of tears clouded her eyes.

  “Are you really just going to give your life just because I asked? Don’t you have any-... I don’t know? Fear? Self-preservation? Don’t you… don’t you want to live? Just-... fucking Sol, why the hell are you doing everything in your power to just make me feel like shit?”

  I just blinked at her again, lost.

  I didn’t quite understand what was so hard to grasp. I had told her I would give her anything, I had told her my sister was more important to me than my life.

  Was there anything wrong or strange about what I had said?

  “I-...” The woman groaned painfully, hurt flashing across her expression, “look, okay, here’s the deal. Since you can’t get your fucking head screwed on straight, I’ll just say it. I’m a witch, alright?”

  …?

  I just tilted my head at her, looking at her grave face with wide, unblinking eyes.

  I wasn’t sure what exactly she was trying to say.

  “A witch?” I blankly repeated. “Like… from a fairy tale?”

  I didn’t have any other mechanism to compare her with.

  “Yes, like from a fairy tale,” the woman rolled her eyes in annoyance.

  She snarled, raising her hand. She flourished her wrist, wisps of misty energy sparking into an orb of fire that rested in her palm.

  I blinked disbelievingly at what I saw, taking several seconds to process what just happened.

  I-...

  …

  What?

  I felt everything that I believed to be true about life crumble right in front of me; the scientific dogma instilled in me from the previous world, the endless nights thinking about religion and my struggle with its place in my life and the world at large, the eternal question of what I was searching for out in those foreign lands, all of it.

  It all fell apart at the simple sight in front of me.

  “Ma…” I trailed off, still struggling to piece my mind back together from what I was seeing, “...gic?”

  There was no scientific or even sleight-of-hand explanation for what I was seeing in front of me.

  It was unexplainable, it was arcane.

  It was greater than my paltry existence as a bag of flesh and bundle of neurons.

  “Yes,” the woman – the witch – rolled her eyes, flicking her fingers around to make the orb dance around her.

  Was-...

  Was that what happened to the scissors I was holding?

  I thought I was just being delirious or something and she had simply snatched them faster than I could see her but…

  Did she-...

  Did she make it implode and disappear?

  I started to shiver.

  Oh.

  I see.

  This is why she thought I would be scared.

  Because I was.

  She probably didn’t think that the reason I would be scared wasn’t because she was capable of ending my life at any moment, but because she was simply more than me, but in the end, the result was the same. I was scared.

  I was terrified.

  I had come to believe that everything in the world was sensible and explainable, that there was a cause and effect to everything, and the universe was a place where science and fact ruled all. That was the cold and cruel truth I had spent much of my youth running away from, one of the fears that would inevitably lead to my distant relationship with my parents and my time being spent abroad.

  But in front of me was something other, something more. It was supernatural, it was almost divine. I, a nobody, a meaningless existence, was staring at the burning, shining possibility of meaning itself.

  Maybe meaning did exist, but it simply did not choose me. I was not worthy, but the witch was.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard the tales,” the witch flourished her hand and dispelled the fireball, “they’re not exactly rare,” she started to drawl.

  “We’re a cold, heartless bunch, concerned with nothing but our craft. Humanity, morality… they’re all just whatevers to us. The only thing that matters is knowledge. Research, experiment, research, experiment. Over and over until there’s nothing left.”

  I flinched and hung my head.

  “We’ll steal children, we’ll rip out people’s hearts. Anything that’ll give us some progress in our experiments if it’s necessary.”

  She rolled her eyes and looked at me boredly.

  I couldn’t help but feel like I was a gnat in her presence.

  “The price I’m looking for is you. It’s not something you have on you, it’s not a part of your body I can take and leave behind, it’s just you. Your entire being, your very soul. I need to take you with me so I can study you in my workshop. Who knows, maybe I’ll even dissect you?”

  A tense silence hung over us.

  “You know… look, I might be a witch and all, but you’re a sorry little thing and I’m not a heartless bitch. I’ll give you the choice, now that it’s finally kicked into your damn head that you shouldn’t just be thanking me.”

  The witch sighed again.

  “This was all an accident. I wasn’t even here looking for you. I was supposed to be looking for some other hyperdimensional object that keeps blipping in and out of existence all across the world. You shouldn’t even exist, to be honest. I don’t know what the fuck you are. I’ve never gotten extraplanar readings from a living person before, only ever seen rocks and metal.”

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  Extraplanar?

  I didn’t exactly understand what she was talking about, but was she referring to the fact that I had lived a previous life in another world?

  “So here’s what we’ll do. If you want, you can decide to just take your sister and walk away. I was just a passing stranger who happened to be able to help. Nothing more, nothing less. I never came across any extraplanar anomaly that I wasn’t looking for, and I’ll go sulk over the fact I can’t find that fucking rock in a damn bar at midday.”

  She stared at me with freezing eyes.

  “But, if you do want to pay that price, still, who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?”

  She shrugged nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t my life that was at stake.

  “If a research subject decides to offer themselves up to me, should I, the genius, prodigal Belle Symphonia, turn them away?”

  She raised an eyebrow towards me.

  “So kid, what will it be?”

  To be honest, even though I was terrified beyond belief, there was still only one thing on my mind.

  My sister.

  If we stayed here, could I continue to provide for her? Would we last through the rest of winter? Was it really possible for us to just go back to that shabby abandoned house and just pretend nothing happened?

  What about the next time she got sick, would there be another miracle that could save us? What if instead, I was the one who got sick? Would I leave her alone?

  Would she have to fend for herself?

  No, I couldn’t let that happen.

  But, that only left…

  I looked up warily, speaking up.

  “My sister…”

  “Hm?” The witch asked boredly, lazily propping up her arm so she could push a fist into her cheek.

  “If I go with you, what will happen to my sister?”

  “I don’t really care about her, to be honest. As a human being, sure, I feel a little bit of pity, but as a witch? She’s just an ordinary child. No value to me. You’re the only one I care about.”

  I scrambled to find a solution to my woes.

  Technically, she had all the power in the situation. If she just wanted to, she could just grab me and leave and leave my sister alone for the rest of her life…

  But she didn’t.

  She didn’t enforce her will on me.

  If all she really cared about was the furthering of her research, then why was she just sitting there, letting me make a decision?

  She had the power, but for some reason, she was giving me the leverage.

  It didn’t make any sense, but it gave me a chance.

  And that was all I cared about.

  “A deal,” I blurted out.

  The witch frowned, asking me a silent question with her eyes.

  “I want to make a deal.”

  She just raised an eyebrow in response.

  “You sure about that? What makes you think I’ll stick to the terms? I’m a witch, I could just hex you or your sister and call it a day.”

  Her words stunned me. I had forgotten to consider that.

  But before I could make a desperate retort, she just sighed again and waved me off.

  “Ah, forget it, sure. We Citadel folks are fucking pricks and we’re annoying as hell but we’re also sticklers who are up our own ass about rigidity, deals and contracts, obligations and all that shit. Yeah, sure, tell me the terms of your deal.”

  The witch just shrugged and gestured vaguely for me to resume.

  I balled my fingers into fists, clenched every muscle in my body and bit my lip.

  I sent out a wild prayer.

  I had to just hope that I was valuable enough to her research that she was willing to pay even a ridiculous price.

  “I-I’ll come with you, but, in exchange, please…”

  My voice wobbled.

  “Please, take care of my sister.”

  I bowed my head again, trying to appeal to her.

  “I don’t care about what you do to me, as long as you promise you’ll keep my sister alive and make sure she grows up.”

  The witch just scowled at my words.

  “The fuck’s going on up there in that sister-brain of yours? Are you capable of forming a single other thought? For once in your fucking life, why don’t you think about yourself?”

  She didn’t reject me.

  Far from it, she only showed concern for me. I wasn't sure why she thought it was so strange for me to care about my sister but it gave me a chance to keep pushing.

  “We don’t have a proper house.”

  Whatever scathing words the witch was preparing to throw at me or my sister died on her lips when she heard my words.

  “We just live in a broken down place that’s been abandoned and pray that no one finds us. I have to get us all of our food, getting up before the sun rises to steal food from wherever I can find it. I don’t have full sets of clothes for her, either. She has to wear boy’s clothes most of the time because it’s all I can find. A-and, she was going to be sold once. A bunch of gangsters bought her from an orphanage, I took her away… they- they might still be looking for her, I-I-...”

  My voice started to grow desperate.

  The uncertainty and guilt started to manifest in my shaky voice.

  “I don’t know if I can continue to provide for her if we just go back there. I don’t know what will happen if she gets sick again. Every day, I-I have to live in fear… what if someone finds out we’re squatting in that rundown neighbourhood? What if I can’t get her enough food? I-I’ll do anything for you, I’ll let you dissect me, whatever, just… please…”

  My voice was barely above a whisper.

  “Take care of her.”

  The ensuing silence felt an hour-long.

  I don’t remember thinking about anything; I was just hanging my head and hoping she would answer my pleas.

  Eventually, for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, the witch just sighed tiredly.

  She threw her head over to the other bed, looking past my sister to a couple of bags and cases tossed against the far bedside counter.

  Then, she looked over to the window that was next to me.

  “Out the window, you see the yard there?”

  She nodded towards my right, gesturing for me to look.

  I followed her words.

  “I’ll wait for you there. Go break the news to your sister, I guess.”

  She didn’t deny me.

  I exhaled in relief, letting my shoulders collapse further.

  The witch just groaned as she pulled herself out of her chair, stretching as she made her way over to her luggage.

  We didn’t say a single word to each other.

  I got up to sit next to my sister, and the witch just took her luggage and passed me by.

  I just stared at my asleep sister, snuggling into her bed comfortably.

  I still couldn’t believe it, almost – the fact that she was alive.

  I smiled.

  I hoped it wouldn’t be the last time she would sleep so soundly.

  Maybe the witch would have a nice bed for her. Maybe she’d get to have three proper meals a day now.

  Witches…

  In my old world, they stereotypically had big cauldrons, simmering with all sorts of herbs and plants. That sounded nice. Better than the stale bread I usually fed her.

  Maybe my sister would get to have a balanced diet, finally.

  I never really got to properly make something for her with the stuff I foraged from the forest.

  I reached underneath the blanket and stroked her hand.

  Her sleeping hand unconsciously wrapped around my own.

  For a moment, I just sat there, thinking.

  I thought about the dreams I had, the ones where my sister would be grown up. She was an adult, living her own life.

  She had a witch’s hat on in a lot of them, no doubt inspired by the words she said to me when we first read the story about the Voice and the Boy in White.

  I chuckled. It was ironic; I had told her magic was real and supported her dream of becoming a witch because I just wanted my sister to be happy, but now here I was, finding out that magic was indeed real and a witch would now take care of her.

  Maybe it wouldn’t be a dream.

  Maybe she’d actually get to be one.

  Who knew, really.

  The witch didn’t seem like that bad of a person, despite what she claimed. Maybe my sister would grow on her.

  Maybe my sister would actually get the chance to learn magic.

  That…

  That would be nice.

  I gripped my sister’s hand ever so slightly tighter.

  I wasn’t sure if I could still be there for her, but at the very least, I wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore. The witch, by her own admission, had said her kind was annoyingly stubborn about sticking to their deals, even if they were amoral.

  Eventually, my sister started to stir.

  “S-Sister…?” A familiar nervous, sleepy mumble tickled my ears. “Y-you’re still here…”

  I almost wanted to cry for the third or fourth time that morning. Last night, I wasn’t even sure I would ever get to hear her voice again.

  “Yeah, I’m still here,” I smiled reassuringly, stroking her hand to comfort her, “and you’re still here too. We’re still together.”

  “I…” Hazy, confused yellow eyes blinked slowly, “w-what… happened?”

  “You got sick,” I looked at her sadly, “I was careless and left you alone, but it’s alright, you don’t have to worry about that. You won’t be sick ever again.”

  “What… do you mean?” my sister slurred her words, struggling to shake the sleepiness away.

  “A nice lady saved you. And she promised me she would take care of you.”

  My sister blinked, a face of confusion forming on her.

  “What about you? Where are you going?”

  I smiled wryly.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be coming with you.”

  I couldn’t bring myself to say ‘she’ll take care of me too.’ for some reason.

  My sister looked at me with concern in her eyes.

  I wondered if she caught on to my hesitance there. She always was rather smart.

  I batted the thought away, reaching out to ruffle her hair like I usually did.

  “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. You have to look nice for the lady who will be taking care of you soon.”

  I said that, but there wasn’t really much I meant by ‘clean up’. I didn’t have toiletries or anything, and it wasn’t like I could run back to get spare clothes. The most I could do was pat down her bed hair.

  I nudged her out of the bed, holding onto her hand as we walked out of the room.

  Before long, we found our way outside.

  Out in the backyard, the witch was doing something strange; she was preparing a ritual of some kind, it seemed.

  She took a brush and dipped it in paint, flattening the grass around her as she drew a massive circle. After she finished, she would go through a constant cycle of flipping through a massive tome in her hands, looking up directly into the sun, lifting a hand to measure something in the sky with her eye, before etching an unfamiliar character inside the circle, forming a ring of runic characters.

  “What’s that lady doing?” My sister frowned at the strange sight.

  I chuckled.

  “She’s casting a spell.”

  I almost couldn’t believe my words.

  “A spell!?”

  My sister, however, did believe them.

  Her eyes shone with such excitement and her voice held such a bright glimmer that it momentarily distracted the witch from her ritual, causing her to send an odd look my way.

  “She’s casting magic!?” my sister continued to blabber on, not heeding the strange look she was getting.

  I briefly met the witch’s stare and gave her an awkward smile.

  I then redirected that smile towards my sister.

  “Yeah, that’s right. She’s a witch.”

  “She’s a witch!?”

  My sister jumped up, the words only giving her glee, as opposed to the terror and bewilderment that fell upon me.

  There really was such a massive difference between us, wasn’t there?

  I really did not deserve her.

  She was worth so much more than I could ever imagine.

  How did those folks at the orphanage just let such a precious person go?

  I almost fell over as she tackled me in her excitement.

  “Sister! You found a witch to save me!?”

  Her words were loud enough to cause the aforementioned witch to flinch.

  I caught the older woman biting her lip nervously.

  I laughed at my sister's wording.

  “I didn’t really find her. She found us… well, actually, I guess we kind of found each other? Either way, all it really came down to was luck. We were just lucky, that’s all.”

  “Do you think she’ll teach me magic!?”

  My sister ignored my musings entirely, making me giggle.

  “Come on now, settle down a bit,” I nudged her playfully, letting her infectious joy spread to me, “give her a little bit of quiet so she can perform her spell.”

  After a few more minutes, the witch was finished, apparently.

  I said apparently because nothing actually happened just yet; she just nodded at her handiwork and gestured for me to walk over to her.

  “Oi, girl, get over here.”

  I held my sister’s hand tightly and walked over to her, joining her by the edge of the runed circle.

  “Ah, wait, shit,” the witch clicked her tongue and frowned, “should probably test this thing out for safety, right? Don’t want to accidentally obliterate two kids in hyperdimensional space just because I got lazy.”

  She gently pushed the two of us back before snapping her fingers.

  Suddenly, something just disappeared in the centre of the circle.

  It was hard to describe what exactly happened.

  One moment, everything was normal, and then in the blink of an eye, something, no, nothing just spawned into the world and ate at the fabric of spacetime.

  Hovering above the centre of the circle, around eye level, was a tiny black dot, the air and ground beneath it twisting and bending inwards.

  I wasn’t clueless about astronomy. I spent far too long staring up at the night sky to not have learnt at least something about it.

  Was I-...

  Was I looking at a stable black hole?

  Well, no, obviously not. I could see it, and it didn’t instantly kill me. It wasn’t an actual black hole.

  But it definitely looked incredibly similar.

  My sister, however, had never heard of a ‘black hole’ in her life, so she simply stared at the alien void in wonder.

  The witch then tossed some strangely shaped beacon-like object through the void, where it promptly, and expectedly, disappeared.

  She flipped through the pages of her tome.

  I saw the page… blink? Flash?

  “Uh, well, looks like everything’s in order,” the witch shrugged, half lifting the page to get a quick look at the next one, “signals are aligned properly, no mass loss, no transmission degradation, wormhole seems stable…”

  “Um, excuse me, miss Symphonia,” I called out hesitantly, pulling my sister away from… whatever that thing was, “w-what exactly is… that?”

  I still didn’t really want to get close to it. Even if it wasn’t an actual black hole I couldn’t be confident I wouldn’t accidentally be disintegrated if I stepped into its radius.

  The witch blinked at my words.

  “Oh, right. Yeah, looks freaky doesn’t it?” She just shrugged nonchalantly as if she wasn’t face-to-face with the most horrific death one could possibly face, “You’ll probably never see anything like it in your life. I’m the only witch that’s stupid enough to play around with this shit.”

  She huffed, smiling in a strange mixture of fondness and bitterness.

  “I guess you could call it a personal project of mine, a dream if you want. It’s a bit shit having to travel everywhere all the time on foot and horse, ain’t it? Ships are a bitch too. Imagine if you could just think of a place and just, y’know, end up there. Well, enter the… uh…”

  She scratched her head awkwardly, frowning.

  “Well I dunno, honestly. Never came up with a name for it. I was thinking ‘teleporter’ or ‘wormhole’ or something. Projects still in development. Haven’t even figured out the whole ‘two-way’ thing yet. Best I’ve managed to do so far is create a unique signal to call to at home that opens up a white ho-”

  She stopped herself and blinked.

  “Oh, I’m rambling.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Anyways, all you need to know is that it looks scary but is kind of harmless. I kind of figured out the whole suffocation thing a long time ago.”

  The what?

  “I’m not gonna explain the mechanism but if you jump into that dot, you’ll be brought to my lab on the other side of the world.”

  “Um!” my sister raised her hand, half in excitement, half inquisitively.

  Before she could say anything else, though, I quickly forced her hand down and covered her mouth.

  “And… you’re sure this is… safe?”

  “Eh, well,” the madwoman just shrugged again, “the safety beacon is transmitting just fine.”

  She waved the book at me.

  I blinked in confusion again.

  The ink on the pages of the tome were moving, and somehow small blips of light blinked on and off, almost like I was looking at a computer screen or radar or something.

  “I’m pretty sure your sister will be fine.”

  She shot a teasing smile towards me.

  “Look, girl, I’ll hold your hand if you’re scared and want to piss.”

  “N-no, that’s alright,” I flushed, squirming away and clutching onto my sister’s hand a bit tighter.

  “Come on!” She waved her hand up and down, shaking me with it. “Let’s go!”

  She couldn’t wait any longer, and without saying anything else, she ran forward and jumped, lurching me along with her.

  I panicked.

  “Wait!”

  It was too late.

  I closed my eyes and prayed.

  Well, I didn’t instantly die, so…

  I guess it was fine.

  Something immediately felt different about the air around me.

  It felt… thicker, warmer, more… humid?

  It didn’t feel like winter at all.

  No, quite the opposite, it was like it was summer.

  Was she telling the truth when she said her ‘lab’ was on the other side of the world?

  I heard my sister gasp in excitement.

  It looked like she was safe too.

  I opened my eyes hesitantly.

  It wasn’t really what I expected of a witch’s home. I was expecting something more rustic or natural, I guess.

  But everything around me looked highly sophisticated and intellectual, if a little chaotic and disorganized.

  Over on one side of the room, a large ornate desk curved around a corner, pressed against shelves that were stuffed to the brim with thick encyclopedias of knowledge. Dozens upon dozens, if not hundreds or thousands of pieces of paper were stacked upon the desk, struggling to maintain its careful balance.

  Next to it, countless chalkboards hung from the ceiling and walls, and there were even a few just standing out in the middle of the room on tripod stands, each filled with scrawls of unrecognisable characters that were strangely beautifully geometric, similar to the runes I had seen the witch carve into the yard with paint.

  The other half of the wide space seemed to be dedicated to more practical things. There was a furnace against the far end of the ‘laboratory’, still flickering with ancient embers – she said she hadn’t been home in a year right, how was that thing still aflame? – next to a bunch of complicated machinery that seemed reminiscent of things I had seen in workshops and blacksmiths; large drills and sanding belts, circular saws, something that looked like a hydraulic press, etcetera.

  If you asked me where I thought I was, I would have told you that I was probably in the laboratory of a mad scientist or inventor, not the home of a witch.

  “Oh, hey, you didn’t die.”

  I jumped away from the voice behind my back.

  As the witch suddenly appeared next to me, the odd distortion around the centre of the room disappeared from view – I guess the portal closed?

  She immediately bent down and placed her hands on my shoulders, looking me over.

  “I wasn’t exactly sure that was gonna be safe for you. Never thrown a living extraplanar anomaly through one of those before. Uh, let’s see.”

  She forced her hands onto my face, using her fingers to spread my eyelids.

  “Nope, you seem fine. Doesn’t look like you suffered any terrible torments while travelling through hyperspace.”

  She blinked, before frowning.

  “You didn’t see anything, right? No visions, no darkness, no spooky voice, no tentacles or shadow tendrils or anything?”

  “W-was I supposed to?”

  “Eh, not really? I’m just covering my bases. The Void does some fucked up shit when it crawls its way into people’s minds and eyeballs, and you might have been more susceptible to it as an extraplanar anomaly. Seems like you’re good though. No speckles of stardust or the usual tell-tale signs.”

  Her frown pulled further down as she furrowed her brow.

  “Anyone ever tell you your eyes are stupidly pretty?”

  “I-... uh…” I was flabbergasted, “thanks?”

  The witch then got up and pushed me away, moving through the large room.

  I stumbled towards my sister while I kept my eye on the woman.

  She opened the door, and gestured for us to follow her.

  “Come. It’s night time over in this part of the world. You’re still probably tired from last night, right? I’ll make you dinner and then you can go catch up on sleep.”

  She gave us no room to argue, immediately turning on her heel and leaving us alone.

  I glanced towards my sister, who was trying to creep towards some of the heavy machinery.

  “Don’t touch that!” I scolded her hurriedly, pulling her away from the sharp, metal contraptions. “You’ll cut yourself.”

  My sister just bit her lip and looked up at me with a pitiful gaze.

  I sighed, and just pulled her along with me forcefully out of the room. I had to catch up to the witch.

  Outside of the laboratory, the rest of the witch’s home seemed to be fairly unremarkable. It was a perfectly, fine serviceable timber-framed place that would have fit in right at home in Tudor times.

  There wasn’t much to say about it because I guess the witch also just didn’t care much about it? It seemed like outside of her workshop, she didn’t really care much for the state of her home.

  I trailed behind the witch, tugging my sister along with me, following her down a narrow corridor before arriving in a quaint dining room, joined next to the kitchen.

  The witch started on dinner immediately, lighting the antique-looking stove with a snap of her fingers.

  I pulled my sister into my lap, distracting her with small games we played together using only our hands to pass the time.

  But before long, an irresistible scent started to waft across the room, distracting us.

  “S-Sister,” my sister’s eyes started to glaze over, “what’s that smell?”

  I froze.

  I could feel the saliva pooling in my mouth already, my mind turning into goo at the mere smell of food.

  It burned so strongly in my nostrils, that familiar scent.

  “Meat,” I whispered to her, my head still stuck in the clouds, “that’s fresh beef.”

  I never thought I would get to smell it again. I had almost resigned myself to a life of eating scraps and stolen food, only getting to fashion together piles of slop with whatever remained.

  We lost our focus entirely, and simply stared at the witch’s back in silence, entranced by the sight and smell of food being cooked in front of us.

  She chopped up something long, streaky and pink, before adding it into the pot.

  The air thickened with a rich, smoky, strong, salty scent as fat sizzled away and bubbled, crisping and frying.

  Bacon. That was bacon.

  Memories flittered in my mind of a long time ago; from the last time I was a child sitting at a dinner table, waiting for someone else to make me dinner.

  I would sit at the table and swing my legs, playing with my father as my mother cooked for the three of us in the kitchen, and every so often, I’d find myself distracted by that wafting scent of rendering fat.

  The sizzling fat slowly popped into silence, replaced by the deep earthiness of mushrooms, reminding me of the time I spent out in forests, taking in deep breaths of dirt and soil with every step I took.

  The elegant sweetness of caramelising onions followed, melting those visions away until I was left with nothing but the back of the witch who stood before me in the present.

  I let myself be carried away by the sun-kissed smell of carrots, by the burning of the tomatoes acid until it turned deep and savouring, by the sharp, velvety fruitiness of wine, and I let the scent just sit there, bubbling and stewing away for an entire hour.

  My sister and I did not move from our seats, not for the entire hour or two we spent watching the stew on the stove top bubble, not even after the witch stopped adding things to the pot.

  And finally, after one of the most excruciating hours of my life, the food was done. The witch grabbed the pot with mittens and gently ported it over to the centre of the small table.

  Our eyes were stuck firmly to the pot, envisioning what wonder laid inside.

  Small bowls and spoons were placed in front of us.

  “Alright, girls, there ya go. Nothing fancy, but I can’t be arsed to do anything more than shovel some shit into a pot and call it a stew.”

  We didn’t listen to her at all, rushing for the ladles sticking out of the pot and scooping the stew into our bowls.

  I stared at the food in front of me as I brought it towards my mouth.

  Thick red sauce dripped off the spoon, clinging to chunks of meat struggling to hang on to its structure, threatening to dissolve into tender threads. Deep golden onions and orange carrots jumped out against the darkness of the meat and sauce.

  I brought it to my mouth.

  I let the food sit on my tongue and chewed.

  “Gh…” I choked, biting back a sob, my eyes growing misty.

  The small hint of bright savouriness from the pasted tomatoes, the smoky saltiness of the bacon, the deep, reduced fruitiness of the sauce and stock, the mellow sweetness of the vegetables, set against the softness of the mushroom and the tender juiciness of the beef…

  It was beef bourguignon, the last thing I had eaten in France before I got on that damned plane.

  It was food. Real food. Made with fresh ingredients, put together with both skill and care, and a recipe passed through culture itself through many, many generations of families.

  It was stronger and more delicious than anything I had ever tasted, except for the first meal I ate after I was brought back to life in Cambodia.

  I was alive.

  I was alive and I was eating good food.

  Life didn’t have to be painful. It didn’t have to be spent wallowing in misery, every waking moment spent wondering if you would make it to see the next day. It didn’t have to be spent forever running away from the darkness that chased you, threatening to devour whatever scrap of meaning you were trying to hang onto.

  Sometimes, all you needed to remind yourself that life was worth living was a single hot dinner that warmed your soul.

  I ate my food and cried.

  Shouldn’t Belle not have any food? It’s been like a year, everything should be rotten as hell. I dunno, let’s just say everything is stored perfectly when put in hyperdimensional space, I guess.

  This chapter ended up dragging for a bit. I really thought I would end up getting the breakfast… dinner? scene in before i hit 6k words, but the chapter just ended up being like 7.3k words total lol

  Estelle’s relationship with Belle will be tepid for like 2 more chapters at best.

  Belle puts on a tough act, but she’s actually just soft as all hell, if it wasn’t obvious by the fact that she eventually names the two kids ‘Estelle’ and ‘Luna’ after her ‘dream of the moon and the stars’, which is the entire name of the event, whatever the hell that is meant to mean.

  Find out later I guess.