I had killed two beings; two lives had been ended because of me. The Othersider was unavoidable, as he was coming for our lives, and there was no other course of action against a being that powerful than to use every ounce of my strength to stop it. But that human. The look on his face as he bled out on the street underneath me, for that one moment, where lucidity probably took hold of him again and he realized he was going to die for something that was entirely out of his control. I could’ve simply disabled him, made it so he couldn’t fight anymore, but instead I went for the throat and slit away. He is dead because it was easier and more convenient for me in the moment for him to be dead.

  The witch began her work, tending to Aera’s wounds, all the while looking at me. I don’t know what expression I wore on my face as I looked at the two bodies that lay before me, clutching my broken ribs and breathing sharply and quickly through my nose: I imagined it was one of panic, but it could’ve been one of serenity, as I had worn in times of peril prior. Either way, the witch, curious to know more, began to speak to me as she mended Aera.

  “I saw the end of that. I saw you fight. The Siphoner, she has been on the loose for quite some time. Never would’ve imagined a human would be the one to get her.” I saw Aera’s wound stitch closed, and though the disgust of her still ran deep within me, I felt a slight comfort in the small of my back. “Who trained you to fight like this?” she asked, her honeyed voice ringing like a bell behind my eyes.

  “I learned Tae Kwon Do in South Korea.” I flicked my eyes back to the pool of blood beneath the man I had cut the throat of; the blood seemed black in the dark of the night. “I guess the rest of it was instinct.”

  “Instinct, huh?” she cooed, finishing tending to Aera, before sauntering over to me and kneeling down to meet my eye her serpentine, orange eyes betrayed her otherwise human form as she addressed me calmly. “I’ve been looking for someone like you. Someone physically capable, emotionally mature, and willing to do what is necessary.” I simply watched her as she reformed my cracked ribs with a muttering of an ancient phrase, feeling the vitality return to my drained body, before she continued with her proposition. “I want to perform a spell on you, one I’ve been preparing for quite some time. The process would change you; you would no longer be completely human afterwards, but something more like us, though what exactly I cannot say for sure, as I’ve never done this before: you would be my first.”

  I slowly got up from the ground, dismissing the offering of her delicate hand; I still felt wounded, but for the most part, I felt well enough to leave this alleyway. I picked up Aera, and followed the woman to her apothecary, a small shop only a block down the road from where I used to call home. A small neon sign, “City of Embers,” hung dimly in the tinted windows of the building; above, a tenement building stretched into the sky. As she invited me in, many herbs greeted me with their flowery scents, and I was treated with the sight of a greenhouse-like shop full of exotic flora, each one with a medicinal or poisonous property worthy of keeping it tended and well maintained. A small hairless cat sat atop the lone counter space, sleeping peacefully in a warm-looking fleece bed.

  The witch led me behind the counter to a door, behind which a staircase led up to a small flat, sparsely decorated with a queen bed, a single, comfortable chair, a bookcase lined with dusty tomes, a small desk, and a kitchenette. “Bathroom’s back downstairs if you need it,” the witch suggested as I set Aera down on the floor leaning against the wall. I simply sat down next to her, criss-cross, and looked up at my host. She smiled at me, before getting into her chair. “Straight to business? Fine by me. So, do you have any questions?”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Yes. Why are you doing this? Why me, specifically? What does this spell do?”

  “Well, I’m doing this because I’m bored,” she answered plainly. “That’s not the whole answer, I also am doing it because I want to do something no one has ever done before, but yeah, I am a witch of considerable power, and I simply haven’t tried to do something new in a long time. As for why you… Tell me, are you a student?”

  “Yes, I go to NYU. I don’t have a major yet, but I like psychology a lot,” I answered.

  “And what do you want to do?” she asked, in that same honeyed tone.

  I didn’t know how to answer, but I felt I wanted to be honest with this person, as I was genuinely curious about this opportunity, and owed them for saving Aera’s life, even though she and I were now on rocky terms.

  “I want to help people.” It’s what my father did; he was a police officer, having died during an Othersider terrorist attack when I was young, and it's what he did in his life. It’s what my mother did; I remembered all of the people who showed up to her wake, all of the lives she had touched simply by trying her best and doing what she thought was best. I thought of my mother’s last words to me, the curse she cast: you are just like your father, please never change. I carried it with me for so long, for a decade of my life, and now I laid it bare at the feet of this witch, this desire of mine to help people, even at the expense of myself.

  “Well, there is your answer!” she replied, a broad smile revealing sharp, dagger-like teeth. “The last experiment I ran, the test subject, turned out to be far less than ideal a character. When I saw how you defended yourself and your girlfriend, I thought, ‘this is someone with upstanding values that I can rely on!’ And as for what the spell does… If everything goes correctly, it will turn you into an Othersider. Think along the lines of an Elf or Faerie, but with a lot of extra features.”

  An Elf. I thought of their slender frames, their unique, beautiful faces, their piercing eyes. A Faerie. I thought of their soft forms, their feminine, striking faces, and their vibrant, colorful hair, and their wings. I might be able to fly. Fuck. I might be able to look at myself in the mirror and not be sick. I tried my best to keep a poker-face, but the witch laughed.

  “Does the thought intrigue you?” she asked. I swallowed hard, and nodded. “Well, do we have an accord then?” She held out her hand. I looked at it, and then her.

  “Can I ask a favor?”

  “Depends on the favor.” She eyed me cautiously.

  “If I say yes, can you alter her memory so she goes back to South Korea and forgets about me?” I looked down at Aera, who was beginning to stir.

  “Why do you want to get rid of her? I thought she was your girlfriend?”

  Without getting into too much detail, I gave her a short synopsis of what I had just learned that night about Aera.

  “Shit. Done,” said the witch, who again held out her hand.

  I took her hand in mine, and the accord was struck.