The days went by, summer turning to fall, and then winter, and things had only improved between Ivy and the Bloody Prince. He would offer her jobs that no one else wanted, typically involving infiltrating fortified locations that were too dangerous for someone who couldn’t disappear at will. So far she had only been retrieving valuable items or procuring invaluable information. Twice she had been to the palace, and each time had wondered if she would run into Rose. She had been both disappointed and relieved that they had never run into each other.

But the prince always wanted more. More gold, more jewels. he needed to know what every noble was saying, where they were going. It all sort of blended into a mess in Ivy's head that she had no desire to untangle. The only one she hadn't spied on was the governor himself she suspected.

But Ivy didn't mind at all. The work had given her a new lease on life. Exploring the city—especially parts that she had never dared to enter as a child—gave her a sense of appreciation for Atrican she had never had before. The fact that so many people could live so close together in relative harmony was something else. She had hated the city as a child, always keeping her down. Now, seeing the insides of noble manors and the palace itself, she saw that it possessed a bit of beauty as well.

Besides, above everything else, she was having fun. Tricking the guards and nobles with her power never got old. And it was so easy. Every day at home she practiced finding her power until she could activate it nearly at will, and out in the city she had been getting more and more experience in the witch world. It wasn’t exactly making sense to her yet, but recognizing things started to become possible the more she went out. She no longer panicked at the sight of the twisting, quivering shapes of her changed vision.

As for the Bloody Prince’s half of their partnership, he provided her with enough coin for whatever she wanted. She suspected her cut to be far less than the value of the objects she stole for him, but without his knowledge, there would be no theft in the first place. Ivy couldn’t figure out what the Prince did with all of his wealth, seeing the stark nature of his headquarters, but the money didn't really matter anyway. It felt strange thinking it, but Ivy no longer cared about how much she had in her purse. Rose would give her anything she needed already. The prince's coin was just...to play with.

And play she did. Most nights Rose was busy on guard duty, and Ivy would spend her time on the second floor of the Flag guild house, drinking her mind away with the others. They swapped stories and laughed together, and best of all, no one harassed her. Sure, she was popular in the house, but it never got to the point that bothered her. Probably because they all knew the Prince favored her. She knew many thought that she was his lover, and she didn’t correct them if it meant they would not attempt their own advances.

The Bloody Flag had given her the closest thing to friends that she could hope for. After losing everyone on the night of her awakening, she never thought she'd fit in again. Today, though, there was only one person she could count on. Ivy woke up before the sun did, her head a mess and her body covered in sweat. Nightmares had plagued her throughout the night, though she feared being awake even more.

She fumbled with the handle on her door and pushed past it into the corridor that separated her from Rose.

"Rose?" she asked, and knocked lightly on her door. "Are you awake?" No answer. She knocked again. "Rose?"

Just before she lifted her hand for a third time, the door cracked open. Rose’s face appeared in the space between the wall and door, her eyes half lidded.

“It’s too early, Ivy,” she said, “not all of us get to take naps whenever we want.”

Oh, come on. Ivy wasn’t that much of a sleepyhead.

“It’s today,” she said.

“Hm. Yes. Today is a day.”

“No. I mean today is the day. You know. My awakening.”

Rose blinked a few times, the sleep fading from her visage.

“Oh. Oh!” She opened the door wider and gestured with her hand. “Come in. Come in.”

Ivy stepped inside the absolute chaos of Rose’s room for a second time since they had lived together. Her feet froze just past the threshold. It had gotten worse over the past several months. Where did it all come from, and why did she leave it like this? Ivy tried to follow her sister’s path through it all. With unnatural agility, Rose somehow managed to avoid tripping or knocking anything out of place without so much as a glance to her feet. Ivy couldn't say the same about herself.

When they reached the bed, Rose sat at the foot and patted the deep blue silk sheets beside her. Ivy, surprised she had been able to keep her feet beneath her amongst all the opulent junk strewn about the floor, plopped herself down as well.

“How bad is it for you?” Rose asked.

“It’s pretty damn terrible.”

Ivy had tried to forget the pains that had struck her three times already since becoming a witch, but had no such luck. Even the memory of the events hurt to think about. Rose laid a hand on her arm.

“We will get you through it,” she said.

“Yeah. Thanks, but…how have you been doing it? When is your day? When it first happened I was so scared and there had been no time to prepare. The second time I hid out in the forest. The third, well, I told you the story about the witch hunters.”

Rose frowned, her eyes searching the room instead of looking at Ivy.

“Uhm,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t really know.”

Ivy blinked. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

“I don’t remember the date of my awakening.”

Again, the answer did not—could not—register in Ivy’s head. She lived in fear of the day, despite all her best attempts not to. Since returning to Atrican, it might be the one thing that still made her question if being a witch had improved her life. Of all the upsides she had recently realized, this single thing still weighed down on her. The pain of it was so great, it made her question even living at all while it persisted.

“I don’t understand,” Ivy said.

Rose scratched the back of her head.

“Well…I don’t get the pains anymore.”

“What?” Ivy burst to her feet, stumbling over a heap of clothing and jewelry. “And you’re just telling me this now?” She started kicking through the mess on the floor, pacing around the bed.

“Ivy…”

Ivy returned back to where Rose was seated and gripped her shoulders with both hands.

“You have to teach me, quickly! There’s only so much time left.”

Rose looked down at her hands wringing in her lap.

“I don’t know how,” she said, “I have a guess. A theory as to why—”

Ivy shook her.

“Then theory me!”

There was a moment of silence, but then Rose went on.

“I…have known other witches,” she said. Ivy had guessed as much a long time ago. “Most are terrified of their own power as you once were. Some much more than others. Those that possess overt manifestations of magic have a hard time ever embracing their strength for fear of being seen.

“Those like you and me, have an easier time with that. We can explore who we are without being caught. We can practice our art and understand it. It is typically those of us who are more fortunate, who are no longer afraid of our strength who have less trouble with the pains.”

Ivy snorted.

“That hasn’t worked out for me.”

“But it is only after meeting me that you broke past your fear.”

Ivy thought about that for a minute. Since before returning to the city she had not once consciously activated her power due to fear.

“Then I—”

Finally, Rose inclined her head to look at Ivy again.

“I have seen various degrees of the torture afflict our sisters,” she said, “but I am the only one I know of that is free from it entirely.”

Oh. Ivy let her hands fall from Rose.

“Then what’s different about you?” Ivy asked.

“I do not know.” Their eyes were locked, and Rose was staring at Ivy so intently, like she needed her to believe. It bothered Ivy for some reason. Like why would Rose try extra hard to make Ivy trust her? She already did. But on the other hand, Rose wouldn’t hold something back that could save Ivy from a terrible pain.

“Okay,” Ivy said, “then what should I do?”

“Some sisters believe the pains are a backlash of unspent power. If you want, you can practice all day long and drain yourself until it comes.”

Ivy had to ask later about these other sisters and where they might be. She thought she would enjoy meeting others like herself. For now, though…

“But when it does—”

“You are worried you cannot control yourself. If you want, we can retreat into the wilderness like you mentioned. But you are strong, Ivy. I believe with your new found acceptance you will be safe right here. In either case, I will send a runner to the palace to inform them I am ill. I will stay with you.”

“Is that okay?” Rose waved a hand. She must have built up a lot of good will with the higher ups. “Thank you, Rose.”

They spent the morning and afternoon doing their best to drain Ivy of her power. She repeatedly held herself in the witch world for as long as she could, trying to glean more understanding of the unnatural realm, until the darkness in her heart faded away. In between these exercises were of course a series of warm naps by the fireplace atop Mister Couch. Rose was being so sweet keeping the logs burning and the snacks coming. How lucky Ivy was to have such a kind sister.

Her eyes blinked open from one such nap, to find that the sun streaming in from the window had started to darken. Time was running out. She wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep and pass the night in oblivion, but she knew better than to hope for the impossible. Something shifted under her head and she turned to find Rose looking down at her.

“How are you feeling?” Rose asked.

“Mmm,” Ivy made a sound and sat up from Rose’s lap pillow, “scared, I guess?”

“Now would be the time. If you want to leave the city we can still get far before midnight.”

Ivy counted her heartbeats before dropping under the influence of her power. Only six this time. She was getting faster all the time. Glancing to the side at Rose, she saw the unique colorless jumble of curves and jagged angles that could only be her. As far as people were concerned, Rose and maybe the Bloody Prince were the only two she had any hope of recognizing in the witch world.

“I think I’ll stay,” Ivy said.

Rose’s form shifted, and then drew closer.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that,” she said.

“What does it look like?”

Ivy was unsure whether or not she simply disappeared without a trace, went up in a poof of smoke, or..."

“It’s not much,” Rose said, the inhuman quivering of what might be her face accompanying her words, “one moment you are there, the next you are not. But it is almost as if you were never there. I nearly forget. Until you speak, obviously. It is quite fascinating.”

Ivy smiled. Better than she had ever expected.

“So what you’re saying is that I can vanish right in front of someone and they’ll question their own sanity?”

“No,” Rose said, “don’t do that.”

“How can I ever get caught? It's as safe as your power.”

Rose sighed.

"I am only safe as long as you are."

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Know that our fates are tied, Ivy. Don’t think you will go down alone if the worst happens. I’m not saying this to guilt you, I just need you to understand what it really means to be a witch. You needn't fear yourself, nor your strength, but the world is still cruel to us. You’re young and drunk on your power—as well as your wine.”

Ivy could do without the lectures on her awakening day. Speaking of wine…

“Do we have any wine?” she asked. Of course they did. Ivy always made sure of that. She dropped out of the witch world and made her way toward one of the cabinets in the adjacent room that held the cook stove. She uncorked a bottle, not bothering to find glasses and returned to the roaring fire. Normally Rose would probably say something to her about drinking straight from the bottle, but not tonight.

As the night went on, Ivy got drunker and her time in the witch world became more and more dizzying. A couple more naps helped a bit, but by the time midnight came around, even the normal world spun around her.

She felt her heartbeat slow, a creeping darkness crawling inside, begging to be let out. It shot out from her core down into her guts and rended them to pieces. Her stomach emptied itself immediately, and she could only pray that Mister Couch made it out okay.

The pain lanced through her abdomen like she had eaten all the rotten slop and poison of Atrican combined, but, but…the rest of her body seemed…untouched by the torture. A miracle had occurred. Not that her present situation could be called at all pleasant, but Rose had been right. She would smile if it didn’t feel like someone had stuck her belly with a dozen hot pokers.

Another wave of agony hit her, and she shot both hands over her mouth to muffle her cries. Some part of her knew that Rose was there, stroking her hair and squeezing her hand, but it proved impossible to concentrate on anything other than the pain.

As her body fought against itself for no reason other than God’s judgment according to the church, Ivy curled up on the floor wishing with all her being that she knew Rose’s secret. Her sister knew more than she was willing to say. Ivy was sure of it. Why didn’t Rose trust her? After all this time, still? Tears flowed freely down Ivy’s cheeks. Why did Rose let her suffer like this?

“Rose,” Ivy said, “it hurts so much.”

The grip on her hand tightened, but the older witch did not disclose her secrets. The pain continued, and Ivy was thrown into the witch world by force, her powers brought forth by her awakening day. Drunk and crippled by gut pain, the sights of the alien world were as mind wrenching as ever.

Beside her she could pick out the familiar shapes of Mister Couch and Rose, but not much else. Under more ideal circumstances, Ivy had learned to recognize several other distinctive constructs of the world over the last year, but at present, nothing appeared more than a hazy blur of insanity. At first she thought it might distract her from the torture, but the nausea only made things worse.

She tried to roll over, but the backwards architecture of the witch world sent her falling instead. She crashed down into…something, her shoulder throbbing at the impact. When she looked up from her new position, a figure far off in the distance caught her eye. Among all the chaos swirling around her, this one shape stood out like a beacon in the night.

It wasn’t as though it possessed color where everything else did not, but it…did? Or not a color, but a glow where all else was a dull facsimile in comparison. It reminded her of trying to view the sun directly, except it didn’t hurt her eyes.

It didn’t belong in this world. Or maybe it was the only thing that did. Instead of burning away her sight like the sun might, it made her want to get to her feet and run to it. She felt she needed to possess such an object that could bring light to this broken world.

But it was so far away. So far that she could normally have never seen such a thing without her power. The curving lines of the witch world had opened up a pathway there, she just needed to follow it. Then it would be hers. Forever.

The thing moved. It turned toward her. Two gaping holes rested above a slit of a mouth, and it...smiled. Jagged fangs and round eyes of pure black stared back at her. She froze, captivated yet horrified at the same time. All desire she once had to run toward it died on the spot. And so did the pain in her belly. Or maybe it had already been gone. Ivy released the grip on her power, unable to weather the thing’s gaze any longer, and the real world unfolded around her.

She was on her knees out in the street, the freezing air misting with her rapid, panting breaths. What...what was that? It had to have been a demon, right? There was no other explanation. Rose had assured her no such thing existed in Atrican. Was she lying or just wrong? Rose couldn’t see the witch world. Maybe that was why.

Ivy shook her head. No. She had decided that the witch world was just an interpretation of this one. Then that…thing was here. Somewhere in the city. And now it knew of her as well. Would it come for her? Try to enslave her to meet its dark ends? Again, Rose had told Ivy that demons had no power over witches. Then why had Ivy felt so compelled at the first sight of one? Rose claimed she was protecting her, but how much of what she told Ivy were lies?

She covered her face in her hands and tried to make sense of it all. Rose had been nothing but kind to Ivy. She had effectively given her a new life, and supported her through what the older witch did not approve of herself. She had to give her sister the benefit of doubt, and accept that what she withheld from Ivy was for good reason. Maybe Ivy had imagined the whole thing, her drunken, pain addled stupor leading her mind to see terrible things in a twisted world. It made more sense than Rose deliberately hurting her.

“Ivy!” Rose’s voice came from down the road. She turned to see her sister running at her with a blanket in her arms. “Ivy, I finally found you!”

“S-sorry,” Ivy said as Rose approached. Her shoulders were trembling, the winter cold biting at her exposed skin. Rose threw the blanket around her, and she tightened it around herself.

“Are you alright?” Rose asked. “Did anyone see you?”

Ivy immediately thought of the demon, but put the creature to the back of her mind. She looked around the deserted street and shrugged.

“I don’t think so.”

“Then—”

“It was much better than last time, Rose. You were right. I think I’ll be okay from now on.”

Rose nodded.

“Good. Then let’s get you home and warmed up.”