For a moment, all Lola could do was stand there. That was… not what she had been expecting.
The person was curled up on their side, their face turned away from Lola, and they seemed to be unconscious. They were wearing an ankle-length, midnight blue dress and a striking embroidered capelet with black feathers hanging like a fringe from the edges. Their long black hair lay like a halo around their head, accented by a single braid capped with yet another black feather.
Her shock quickly turned to concern. She reached out with one hand (other hand still holding her taser- after all, for all she knew this could be a trap!) and lightly shook the person. “Hello? Are you alright?”
They groaned slightly and rolled over towards Lola. She jumped back, still on edge, but her frayed nerves calmed when she realized they hadn’t meant any harm. In fact, mystery-doorstep-person didn’t seem to be doing too well. Now that she had a clear view of their face, she could see their black eye and the dried blood staining their brown cheek. She gently tapped them again. “Hey! Are you okay?”
Their eyes fluttered, but they didn’t reply.
The crows chose that moment to swoop back over Lola’s head, cawing obnoxiously again and circling above the hallway. Lola glared at them. “Could you keep it down? My neighbors are probably trying to sleep.” Normally she’d feel a bit silly talking to a few birds, but something about these crows definitely felt different. Whoever this person and their birds were, they certainly weren’t normal.
They also didn’t seem hostile, and her gut instincts told her they weren’t dangerous… Lola sighed to herself and made a split second decision. “Alright, let’s get you out of the hallway,” she said to unconscious-mystery-crow-person, ignoring the fact that they probably couldn’t hear her. With a grunt, she reached down and scooped them up into her arms- surprisingly, they were lighter than she’d expected. Their head tipped back as she carried them inside, closing the door behind her with a deft kick. The crows flew through the entrance just before it closed, and she leveled a stern look at them. “Behave, okay?”
Up close, she couldn’t help but notice how nice their clothes seemed- she’d learned a thing or two about clothes-making from Cato, and this embroidery was definitely hand-stitched by an artisan. Also, they smelled strange. Not in a bad way, just… like the ocean, or maybe the river? Something about it made Lola’s chest ache, like homesickness for a place she’d never been before.
She laid the person down on her couch, grabbing a pillow to support their head, and ran to the bathroom to grab a first aid kit. When she returned, the two crows were perched on the couch. One of them turned its head to stare directly at her, its two beady little eyes searing directly into her soul, and she glared back at it, resisting the urge to stick out her tongue.
“What happened to you?” Lola muttered, mostly to herself, as she pulled up a chair, sitting down next to the couch. She pulled some antiseptic out, fully prepared to immediately call the hospital if mystery-person’s injuries ended up being anything more serious than a minor scrape. Which, considering the fact that they were passed out, honestly seemed likely.
With one hand, she reached out and brushed the person’s hair out of their face. Their skin was cool to the touch, and she couldn’t help but stare a little at their face for a moment. Long, dark eyelashes fluttered over high cheekbones, an elegant wide nose, lips that looked like they’d been sculpted from marble…
Lola shook her head, attempting to clear her mind and refocus on the task at hand. She took a washcloth she’d run under warm water in the bathroom sink and tentatively pressed it to their face, trying to wash off some of the dried blood. Mystery-person mumbled a bit in their sleep, but her motions didn’t appear to be causing them pain so she continued, slowly cleaning off their face. Other than their black eye, there were several vertical scratches running down their cheek, like something had clawed them. The scratches didn’t look to be too deep, and most of them had scabbed over already, but they were likely the cause of all the blood.
Once she’d finished washing off mystery-person’s face, she leaned back and set down the washcloth. She glanced over their body, scanning for additional injuries. They didn’t appear to be hurt below the neck, although it was impossible to tell for sure, and they also didn’t appear to be carrying any sort of phone or wallet- so no way to contact any of their friends or family. Not that Lola had really been expecting to be able to, though- whoever this person was, they weren’t the normal sort.
She took out the antiseptic and put some on her finger, intending to apply some to those wicked-looking scratches. But right as she was about to touch their face again, mystery-person’s eyes flew open and they gasped. Lola jerked back, startled.
“Where am I?” Their voice was quiet and a little raspy, and their deep brown eyes flicked across Lola’s face like they expected to find all the answers hidden there.
“My apartment. You, uh, kind of passed out on my front doorstep?”
“Mm.” They nodded, eyes fluttering again in a might-pass-out-again kind of way.
“Hey! Uh,” Lola decided mystery-person was not, in fact, allowed to pass out again until they gave her some answers.Their eyes flicked to hers again, looking slightly more awake. “What happened to you? How did you get here? Oh, also, who are you?”
With a grunt, mystery-person pulled themself up to a sitting position. Lola’s hands shot out to steady them, drawing back at the last moment.
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They turned to face her, an inscrutable expression flickering on their face. “My name is Danae. I am also called the Crow Queen.” The Crow Queen… Lola had never heard the name before.
She nodded at Danae. “Nice to meet you. I’m Lola, I use she/her pronouns.”
Danae looked a little confused, but replied, “So do I. It’s nice to meet you, Lola.” She shifted her weight a little, before continuing, “I apologize for the inconvenience I have caused you. I am… not sure what happened to me. My memory is… rather faded, you see.”
At that moment, she suddenly seemed to notice the wounds on her face.
“Ah,” Danae said, lifting a hand up to the scratches on her cheek. She blinked, muttered something, and suddenly both her black eye and the scratches just… faded away. Gone, like they’d never existed.
Lola was left nearly speechless. “What on earth-” she managed. “Was that some kind of fast-healing incantation? I’ve never seen anything like it…”
Danae looked vaguely amused at Lola’s words. “Nothing of the sort. This body of mine is not like yours- I am not corporeal, not present in the way you are. My appearance is something I can change as I will it. Although…” she trailed off, expression going distant, “I think I was wounded, somehow.”
“So are you a ghost, then?”
“Some sort of spirit- or at least, I think so.”
“You think so?”
Danae’s gaze flicked back to Lola’s. “Mm. Like I said, my memory is not-”
Whatever she was about to say next was drowned out by the loud beeping of the kitchen timer. Lola jumped up out of her chair. “My soup!”
Danae looked at her quizzically, but Lola was already in motion, cutting a straight path to her long-awaited soup. Danae got up and followed after her, drifting into the kitchen where Lola was in a flurry of motion, ladling out two bowls of soup. She looked up as Danae entered, then back down at the bowls.
“Sorry, I should have asked- would you like some soup?”
The question seemed to temporarily knock her off-balance. Danae frowned for a moment, then nodded, trailing after Lola as she walked over and sat down at the counter. Lola pulled up a chair, gesturing for Danae to sit, and set down the two bowls in front of them. Danae picked up her spoon and hesitantly took a small sip- before her eyes lit up and she started quickly shoveling spoonfuls into her mouth. Lola grinned to herself: her mother’s special recipe was a success yet again.
“So,” Lola said, in between bites, “where- what do you...” She trailed off, struggling to articulate what she wanted to ask. So many questions… She tried again: “Where do you live?” That seemed like a good starting point, at least.
Danae extended two fingers, and one of her crows fluttered over to perch on her hand. “Nowhere,” she said simply. “Everywhere. I…” she gestured somewhat vaguely with her free hand, “wander, here and there.”
Lola frowned. “Do you-“
All of a sudden, Danae gasped loudly and slid to the floor in a fluid inhuman motion that hurt Lola’s brain to look at. Her spoon slipped out of her fingers, clattering to the floor, and she keened softly in pain from where she was on the floor.
“Danae-“ Danae looked up, and it was Lola’s turn to gasp. Her face… the first word that came to Lola’s mind was “unraveling”. She’d never seen anything like it before: parts of Danae’s left cheek and forehead were fading, dissolving into translucent wisps of white smoke.
Worse, whatever was happening seemed to be incredibly painful, judging from Danae’s soft whimpers. Lola rushed to her side, gathering Danae up in her arms. “What’s happening? Are you okay?” Danae whimpered again and reached for Lola’s hand, cool fingers gripping her like a vise.
“Hurts…” she whispered. “I don’t- I don’t know…”
“Shit, shit!” Lola looked around, frantic. “Is there anything we can do?” Danae’s eyes were panicked as she looked up at Lola. She was shaking slightly, trembling like a leaf in a storm. With her free hand, without thinking, Lola reached out for the side of Danae’s face- but her fingers passed right through, translucent wisps swirling slowly around her fingers.
Danae’s breath was coming in harsh, jagged gasps, alarm etched all over her expression. The two crows, looking absolutely distraught, flapped around her head, cawing incessantly.
“Would you shut up?” Lola hissed at them. “I’m trying to think!” Her mind was whirling at a thousand miles a minute. What could she do? Was it some kind of curse, or magical injury… She reached for her phone- maybe Cato could help!
But then- as suddenly as they’d come- the wisps retreated, spooling away into nothingness. Danae shuddered as her face returned to normal.
Lola looked at her, expression full of concern. “What was that?”
Danae sounded shaken as she responded: “I have no idea.”
-
Five minutes later, Lola was pacing back and forth across the kitchen floor and Danae was sitting perched on the counter stool, her crows fussing over her in concern.
“Something- something must have happened to me, before.” Danae said quietly. “I don’t think this used to happen… I don’t- I don’t remember how I got to your doorstep, either…” She looked troubled.
Lola stopped pacing for a moment, turning to face Danae. “I’m going to have brunch with my friend Cato this Saturday- he’s a mage, maybe he can help you with whatever- whatever this is.”
Danae looked up at her hesitantly. “I… you’ve already helped me more than enough this evening, I don’t want to impose…”
Lola shook her head. “No, of course not! I don’t mind at all.” Danae smiled slightly at that, a small hesitant thing, and Lola’s protective instincts flared even more. A stranger had showed up on her doorstep, wounded, lost, and in pain- who would she be if she didn’t step in to help? “I mean, you passed out on my doorstep and ate my best soup recipe, so that practically makes us friends, doesn’t it?”
For a horrible moment, she was afraid she’d overstepped. But then Danae nodded once, firmly, and said, “Friends.”
All of a sudden, a thought came to Lola. “Where have you been staying in the city? I can drive you there, if you like.” Danae glanced away, silent, and Lola remembered her earlier words: I… wander. “Do you… need a place to stay?” Danae’s eyes snapped back to hers. Lola rushed on, feeling strangely self-conscious: “I just mean, what if that happens to you again and you’re alone? Or if it gets worse?” Oh my god, what am I doing, she thought to herself. Did I seriously just invite a total stranger to stay at my apartment?
Danae looked hesitantly hopeful. “...could I stay? At least until we talk to your mage friend?”
Lola liked to think of herself as a rational person, for the most part. But when it really came down to it, she trusted her gut instincts first and foremost. And her gut instincts- as well as the protective talismans Cato had placed around her apartment- were telling her that this injured spirit was harmless. More importantly, the injured spirit in question needed a place to stay, and her help.
She grinned. “As long as you don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”