“OK. Um… You stay here, I guess?” Mia wasn’t sure if she should leave him alone, defenseless if the Crow or something else decided to emerge form the mist and attack him.

“Yeah, I’m probably safe… I think. Maybe I’ll just stay by the door? You know, in case something comes after me, I can hide in or outside.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah… Yeah. I’m fine,” He waved her off, putting on a brave face, but knowing that his wounds weren’t particularly deep, the most worrisome being the lash on his calf that didn’t appear to be bleeding all that much. “Here, help me up.” He said, offering both hands to the thin girl.

“Right.” Mia took his hands and lifted with all her strength, fatigue of her own a factor she hadn’t realized was very much setting in. But up Luke went, resting against the wall, just off of the broken window. Platinum hair, it’s yellow hue resting against his shoulder, sprung up from beneath his arm, Mia motioning him to lean his weight on her to take the stress off of his left calf and thigh.

“Not as weak as you look.” Luke said, the pair moving up to the knocked down door and carefully moving around it.

“Thanks, you… are actually as dumb as you look, unfortunately. But that’s a good thing! You know? Meat heads are reliable.”

“OK, well… Uncalled for, but… Thanks? I think?”

“Hehe!” She laughed, teasing him, but guiding him gingerly to where the witch and Nick met them halfway and just beyond the heavily damaged, boarded porch. The last step down to the dirt path, a splintered piece of wood, caught on the girl’s boot and sent her off balance with the weight of Luke against her.

“Shit!” She cried, but met her brief fall against the familiar cologne of a man she had been searching for.

“Easy, Goldy.”

Mia peered up beyond the bangs clouding her upper vision. Her uncle Nick stared down at her. She looked over at Luke, feeling the weight of him no longer against her and seeing that the witch had taken her place and now supported him with relative ease.

“Wait! Are you OK to carry him?” Mia eyed the witch, a youthful form. Strong as she appeared, Mia knew that the witch had taken damage from the feathered blades that pierced her back, the image of pulling inch after inch out of the witch’s body vivid in the girl’s mind.

But it was Nick that spoke up instead. “She’s fine, Mia. We should be more worried about your friend here. Getting him back to town should be our priority.”

“Fine? But she-”

“Is a magical being who’s powers are no longer bound by the hex that stalled the Veil? Yes, you’re right.”

“Hex? What is that?” Luke questioned the man, turning to the witch and seeing her form had not changed from the strong youth. He blinked a few more times and she remained in the same youthful form.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Nick stared at Luke, then down at Mia who looked up at him with the same confused expression as the dark-eyed fighter. “It should feel particularly refreshing after a long battle, don’t you think.” Nick pointed up and around, his curled locks shifting gently over his brow.

Wind. Luke thought to himself, looking around and seeing the mist now crossover onto the path slowly, in the direction of the cool breeze.

“They’re actually kind of cold,” Mia spoke up, crossing her arms and wrapping her hands around them, rubbing slightly to warm herself. “The Winds of Fate…”

“Are you saying that someone was stopping the wind?” Luke struggled to grasp what everyone else seemed to understand innately. Winds of Fate, magical creatures, hexes. Coming to grips with the reality of his situation was something he had yet to attempt, but now as survival was no longer his top priority, he needed to start getting answers and finding the truth about where he was. Still, his suspicions weren’t something he felt so comfortable revealing.

“Something, more likely than someone. Dark magic in a strong enough vessel to contain it can be used in this manner. Think of a Philosophers Stone. Forbidden magic condensed into crystallized blood of its sacrifices. Many have use it to gain immortality. None have ever become immortal. Death is a fate guaranteed to us all, it can be postponed, but never evaded for long. The hex on the Veil was the same. You may halt the Winds of Fate, but not for long. As for who did it, you saw the creature responsible. Crow.”

“Psh…!” Mia scoffed at the mention of them. “Ran with its tail- um, feather’s between its legs.”

Nick chuckled. “Yes, we did overpower them, but they ran not because they couldn’t defeat us as we were, but because it had no hope of winning as we were soon to become. I’m certain Crow realized that the hex was fading. As soon as they did, Crow would have had no chance of escaping from the Veil.”

“Seemed like it new you, and you them.” Luke was aware that Mia and Nick were related, but he barely trusted Mia to not stab him in the back, and here was a man that conveniently showed up in time to defeat the bad guy and held all the answers to every question. Luke was grateful to be alive, but he didn’t owe Nick his immediate trust.

“Yes, we have tea every day at noon sharp. It’s on a corner café in the city. Not sure if you know the spot. So, through the southern entrance, you head up Burnbry Avenue and a take a left onto East 2nd…”

“Please, don’t tease Luke, Nick. He…” Mia stared at Luke, nodding at him as she continued. “He saved my life. I think that deserves a little respect, don’t you?” She turned to her uncle, raising her eyebrows at him and nodding towards the well-built “meat head”.

“I know, I know. Luke, right?” He directed his attention to the much younger man, stepping towards him and reaching out a hand to where the injured fighter wasn’t leaning on the witch.

“Yeah. Lucas, but everyone calls me Luke.”

“Right. Well, Luke,” Nick took his hand, shaking it firmly, but not harshly. “Mia is one of few family I have left. Seriously, thank you.” Luke nodded back to him as Nick’s eyes squinted a bit, mouthing something Luke only just caught as “follow” as Nick smiled widely at him.

“No, genuinely. I mean, you have not only done us a service, but the entire world. You have spared us all of living a life where we do not get the privilege to hear the future queen of sound and song play her melodic tones for us!”

“Really, now? I wasn’t aware I was in front of such a grand person.” Luke added, sarcasm dripping out of both men’s voices.

“Oh! Well, she has never been one to brag about it.”

“Nick! Stop!” Riled up, Mia forced herself between the pair of men, shoving Luke out of the way, twinge of pain in his calf as he was caught quickly by the witch.

“Mia, no need to be humble in front of your savior, and dare I say… future lover?”

“UNCLE!!!” The flush of her face, a beat red color as her fists hammered away at his chest and arms.

“What?! Surely this is fate, and as established, fate is inevitable.”

“Yes, and so is death. So die! Now!”

“Haha…” Quiet, a faint giggle came from Luke’s left. All three stopped in their tracks, turning to the witch, wooden mask hiding any trace that the sound came from her.

“Did you just…?” Mia hesitated to ask.

“We are not emotionless.”

“Oh! No, I didn’t mean it like… Um, cool?”

“Cool? You made an agent of the Great Veil laugh and that’s… cool?” Nick mocked her, knowing exactly which buttons to press and when to mess with his niece.

“Oh, so now we’re criticizing each other? OK, how about the fact that you told me you couldn’t teach me music because you gave it up, but now I here something about you performing on stage for the last year?”

“How do you know that? Did your mom…?”

“Niccolo Vivaldi? Not hard to guess who would come up with a name like that, Nick.”

“Alright, hold on, I can explain.”

“Yeah, you better!”

Luke felt a tug at his arm, the witch motioning him to step away for a while, Nick and Mia clearly preoccupied with a family matter. She helped him into the cabin, white light coming out form her hand as she cleared the sofa inside from most of its dirt, dust, and debris. Luke got the message, taking a seat as the witch stepped to where he had tossed his bag and the ointment within.

“That’s a pretty useful power.”

“Yes. We should get you treated. The jar, it is medicine?”

“It works for cuts and bruises, but nothing major.”

“For this?” She pointed at his calf and thigh, the more immediate concerns.

He nodded. “Yeah, that should be fine. At least so it doesn’t get infected.” Mist gathered beneath the sole of his foot and behind the knee, aiding him to swing his leg up onto the sofa more easily as the witch knelt beside him. She tore completely the already ripped leg of his pants, revealing the full extent of his injury. It wasn’t pretty, dried blood hardening around the dark wound, but it was no longer actively bleeding more than a few drops when he moving awkwardly.

She twisted the top off of the jar, reaching in sliding three fingers across the ointment as to gather it. Straight onto the wound, she worked it smoothly into the affected area, making sure that every inch of it was covered. She brushed the residue onto the cloth wrapped around her other hand, taking the bound end and pulling it undone and off of her arm. Cleansing white light made Luke squint briefly, wraps clean as she started winding them around his loser calf and working up, leg lifted by the mist for ease of access.

There, as she treated him, Luke caught a glimpse of the inside of her palm, lines drawn on it, perhaps a tattoo of sorts. He was in no way surprised that she would have markings on her body, but it was the design that sat him straight, leaning forward and taking her hand in his. She didn’t stop however, Luke staring intently at her as she finished her work and tied the cloth under itself so that it wouldn’t come loose.

“Lay down. I must treat that.” She pointed to his thigh, practically skinned at points, now scabbed over like a hard protective shell his body had created to prevent him from bleeding out. Though, a wound that major, it never was.

“Show me your palm,” he said, taking her hand in his again, now she didn’t stop him, but neither did she present it to him.

“We need to dress the wound.”

“Fuck the wound.” Luke turned her hand over. It was soft in spots, calloused in others. Battle-worn, the hands of a warrior showing signs of use where their weapons made contact with the skin. She was no different, and though her hand was smaller than his, he could tell that her experience was one more varied and practiced than he could ever dream. On her palm, black and white markings criss-crossed along her pale blue skin. Coiled snakes that wrapped around her lower forearm and wrist, heads facing on the palm, a white constrictor and a black mamba.

“How?” His eyes laser focused on the ink, studying them, burning them into his mind to ensure he wasn’t hallucinating. “Why do you have this?!”

“It is not my right to explain. Not now. Just know that you are where you need to be and all will be revealed in time.”

His vision blurred as his head shot up to look at her, and in that moment where he lost sight of the witch, the weight of her hand disappeared. Her presence, gone. The Spirit Witch had vanished. The only trace of her, a pile of clean wraps on his lap, left behind for him to dress the several other wounds he had.

A knock on the door frame, a figure stood in it. “Are you OK?” Nick asked, head on a swivel as he looked around the dingy cabin, black feathers and shattered glass strewn about.

“Yeah,” Luke replied, half present as his mind still whirled with confusion.

“Good, I just heard you shout and thought I’d check up.” He adjusted his glasses, staring at his dressed wound and the gash on his thigh. “Are you still finishing up here?”

“Um, yeah, I was just talking to, uh, the witch, but she left.”

Nick squinted for a moment, pensive, something on his mind, but refocused on Luke instead. “Do you have anywhere to stay nearby?”

“Uh… No, not really.”

“Come with us. I’m sure Mia won’t let you scamper off anyway and we can get you some better treatment than… whatever that is.” He pointed at the jar of ointment.

“Hey, this is good stuff.”

“I’m sure it is. Herbal, maybe? Still, arcane treatments will get you back on your feet quicker.” Nick gave him a glance that read “obviously”, as if what he said was a given, common knowledge. Luke nodded in return, unsure of what this arcane treatment was, but hoping he didn’t give away his ignorance.

“Besides,” Nick continued. “You helped my family today. I won’t be forgetting that any time soon. We owe you one. The least we could do is give you a place to rest up.”

“Thanks, I think I’ll take you up on that.” Luke didn’t know Nick, but he knew his type. He was similar to Jimmy, though less scummy and more well-off, by the looks of him. As smart and cunning as they operated, they were honest when it came to one thing: their people, family. Either way, he needed a safe place to rest, and it was either go with them, or sleep in the cabin. At that point, Luke would rather not stay there any longer than he needed to.

“Phew…” Nick’s demeanor changed, sighing in relief. “Good because I could really… Uh, I mean, we could… OK, what I’m saying is, I think we both know-”

“You don’t want to go back with her alone, do you?” Luke raised an eyebrow at Nick.

“No, I don’t, OK? She is a tempest. She won’t stop hitting me, and at this rate I’m going to bruise and I won’t be able to wear short sleeves for weeks!”

“I heard that! Stop saying weird things about me and get out here Nick!” Mia called from outside. Luke watched Nick cringe, sighing again.

“Don’t take too long.” His eyes pleaded, turning to head out.

“I’ll be right out.” Luke took the ointment and started spreading it on his wound generously.

Nick still stood in front of the open door, head turning in the doorway and speaking in a lower tone, just loud enough for only Luke to hear. “What did you talk about with her. The witch.”

Luke’s thoughts flooded with all he had spoken to her about, revelations that still didn’t make any sense to him, secrets that he didn’t understand how to unravel. She knew he didn’t belong, and odds were, she was somehow in on it. This was where he needed to be, she had told him. Not home, but here, where even the air smelled different. Not in the bustling city of the world he knew, but in the country side of a world becoming ever more evident was not of his origin. Here, where a spirit held the marking of a place all to familiar to Luke. It was at his father’s old gym, a home for Jiu-jitsu and boxing, constrictors and mambas, that Luke had seen so often a depiction of two snakes coiled together — one white, one black. The logo of his father’s gym, which Luke had last seen shortly after his parents’ passing when it closed down, was somehow tattooed on the blue skin of a ghost, a guardian of death’s door. What it meant, he didn’t know, but there was no way he could leave without finding out.

“She apologized for not being able to protect us.”

“Really?” Nick responded, surprised.

“I think she must have been sorry that we got caught up in this mess, but I’m not sure.”

“Hm..” The blond haired man brushed aside his curly hair and adjusted his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger. “I guess they really do have emotions.” Nick trotted off, catching up to Mia as they both waited for Luke to head out.

“Yeah… I guess so.”