After the previous gratitude she showed me. I cannot say that I expected what happened. But it does not matter. Wherever the wind takes me, I shall follow. To live a life free from desire and ego, one must be like water.

Susceptible to taking all shapes while being equally as free to take none.

At the same time that I think this, I look outside.

It's only a matter of time until we arrive at her establishment. With the speed of these so-called 'vehicles', even the weakest of people can travel at the fastest of speeds.

A few more minutes pass, and the car skids to a halt. As the squeal of the tires touches my ears, so does the sound of Vela.

"Man, it took long enough".

Vela's expression is lukewarm, so to speak. She has both simultaneously eased from arriving while staying agitated at having to take a car in the first place.

Beliefs, actions, and ethics.

I wonder how best she corresponds to these three aspects. On the one hand, she has the perfect 'eccentricity' demanded of magic, being odd in the manner of speaking and principle. In fact, it would not be wrong to say that she perfectly encapsulates what a mage should be.

Save for one glaring issue. That being my existence.

Vela's hand reaches for the interior of her coat. Before she reveals it, I think that she is trying to reach her wallet. However once she takes it back out, I see this is not the case.

The object in her hand, in fact, resembles a three-eyed giant. A toy, so to speak, she points it in front of the driver.

After a few seconds pass of him staring at it, the driver chuckles. A human well into his fifties, the object before him must have been odd if anything else.

"Bo be bas bum, you will forget we took this car ride in five seconds."

Of course, the man is not wrong. By itself, the object was truly just that, an inanimate piece of wood that could not move, think, or do much else. Any normal individual would treat it as such and move on. But Vela is not normal.

No matter how normal they may seem on the surface, a mage is far from it.

Though I do not practice magic, its principles are not lost on me. Separate from the world of martial arts and spirit, which can be thought to be the power of the body, magic can be thought to be the power of the mind.

Usually, it is a power that depends on three key factors to be fulfilled.

That being, an incantation, a material, and a gesture.

In this case, the magic employed used none other than the giant in her hand as a material and the words she spoke as an incantation. A strange look now sits on the man's face. His eyes, mouth, and brows all stay put. But his mind is fundamentally altered.

Though I do not quite understand why myself, I suspect the spell has worked. Since I do not have any money, all I can do is leave.

In this regard, I have committed an act of evil.

Vela and I look to the building that is now before us. A modest house, the size of a dozen large gorillas, there stands a metal gate before us and the residence.

Devoid of any furnishing save for a single tree. The exterior is nonetheless well kept. Without any overgrown weeds or patches of towering grass, one could mistake it for the establishment of a noble.

On the outside, that is. When we enter into her territory, one look is enough to tell me its true nature.

Ragged, unkempt and worn out, there are objects of varying dimensions everywhere. Stacks of books on seemingly every shelf, cuts and holes on the clothed walls, and even a few strewn pieces of garment...

Her irritation is gone; Vela leans against a wall and avoids eye contact with me. Peculiar, it is almost as if she is embarrassed.

"Is something of the matter?"

She wavers, and her eyes now dart with greater frequency. Left, right, up and down, they cover every direction possible before rotating in a circle.

"Nope, none at all, just me and my exquisitely organized house."

If that is what she thinks, then I do not argue. Hypocritical as she is, I struggle to wrap my head around her philosophy. Caring for my impression of her unruliness, yet uncompassionate towards the idea of threatening me with violence.

Turning away from me, Vela heads up the stairs. A fleeting look towards my direction compels me to follow her.

I step onto the aged wooden stairs. The wood alone enforces the ancestry of this house. Even without that, though, there are many other indications. Classical paintings of animals too adorned the walls. Some that I have never witnessed myself, much like the 'kangaroo' creature.

"This'll be your room."

Next to a wooden door with a necklace of serrated teeth on it, stands Vela. She walks in.

For what it is worth, as messy as the house is, it is not dirty, so to speak. In some aspects, it is even endearing. So far, there has been no evidence or proof of a foul odour, rather the contrary. There is a distinctly sweet saline scent that is within this room.

A picture paints itself in my head. I envision the lapping of sweetened seawater against golden sand, but that's all there is to it. Any further detail or imagery is inconceivable.

Creativity is given through experience.

"Hmm," Vela mutters, looking at me all the while. After a few more moments of her contemplation, she smells me.

"You know, you don't smell half-bad for someone that lives in a forest."

"So it seems."

"But I'm still going to ask you to take a shower though."

"..."

I take a cold shower after that. And because I am asked, I also employ the use of shampoo, body wash and conditioner. The only advantage I see is that it teaches one discipline and conformity to a routine.

I exit the shower, and the last step is to wear my clothes. Or rather, the new ones I'm given. A costume of a premium nature, it is a garment that many in the restaurant I went to wore—a suit. Putting it on, I see that it fits perfectly well. Neither too tight-fitting or overly loose, it still offers the degree of flexibility I'm used to.

After that, the last thing I do is leave the bathroom. Looking at me, she shifts from side to side while offering approving nods.

"Not bad, not bad, dare I say, you look pretty good in this."

Vela delivers her message like a monkey to a bundle of bananas. Content, yet, in desire of evermore, I suspect she isn't finished. Part of her yearning, still unsated, she goes to her closet. Wood rubs against wood as she moves the hangers from one side to the other. Repetition of sounds intersected by the ever so common pause and murmur under her breath continue for some time.

Eventually, though, Vela reaches her conclusion. Her hand now holds onto a coat. White, with a collar of fur and lines accented by black. Something about it tells me it's not meant for her. Sure enough, the next second, she droops over my shoulders. And at the same time, she nudges me to her right.

A full-body mirror before me, I see my unbothered reflection before it.

"Looking pretty good if I say so myself, Mayevil."

Her reaction is unexpected to the point that I freeze. This is the first time she has called me by my name.