The door clicked shut, and lights flickered on in the small cottage. It seemed larger inside, with solid birch walls and velvet armchairs nested before a slowly glowing fireplace. Deeper into the cottage, a kitchen stretched around the corner and a set of winding stairs climbed to an upstairs that wasn't visible from the outside. Mint, lavender and sage hung from the rafters, making the whole place smell sweet and wonderful.

The woman in the lead stopped with her back to Ivy. “Tell me, why would anyone be stupid enough to become a witch’s apprentice?”

Ivy stopped and looked up surprised. She bit her lip for a short moment and exhaled a soft breath before taking off her glove showing a silvery mildew, the same as on the trees, along the back of her hand with purple tendrils under her skin spreading into her veins.

“Because I know what this is, and I don’t want to die. And I want to help others with the same issue, to prevent anyone else from dying from this,” she replied as the woman looked back and bristled, her shoulder pulling up in fright as she stared at the horrible silver mildew on Ivy’s fingers. She immediately came over and took her hand. She was careful not to touch the silvery spots.

“How long ago did this appear?” she frowned, hanging the compass around her neck again. The needle still pointed at herself.

Ivy grimaced when the woman turned her hand over a few times to look at how far the plague had spread, and gripped her glove with her other hand.

“The visible signs popped up about a week or two ago, but I’ve been sick a while with it I assume. My parents tried everything available to them, with no success. My grandma finally gave me my Opa’s journal and told me if I can read it I may be able to find a solution…” she told her, holding up the journal again.

When the other woman looked closer at it, she could see magic woven into the thread holding the leather binding and the pages. Ivy handed it to her when prompted and futzed with her fingers again as the other woman opened it up to a random page.

At first, the writing looked like gibberish but slowly the markings shifted and flowed into readable words for her. It became rather obvious that it was a witch’s book of magic, filled with recipes, illustrations, and descriptions.

The woman sucked in a breath, looking over the magic threads woven into the pages. It was tenderly and well cared for each thread lovingly crafted and added. She softened finally, as she closed the book and thumbed her compass.

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“I have a hard time reading it and don’t know a lot of the words, but I could make out that I needed the help of a witch for this,” Ivy added, gesturing at her hand.

“The book is correct, you do need a witch’s help to be relieved of Magic Affliction. That's the correct term for it. I can’t guarantee you will survive. Once it gets to this stage there isn’t a lot of hope, but if you're willing I will try to help you. I will need a few details to start an antidote for the affliction.”

She stepped away and grabbed a simple looking leather bound book. It was heavy and huge compared to the tiny journal. She flipped it over to a blank page and held her compass up. “Name, age, Blood type, and how long you think you have been affected are needed”

Ivy’s heart sank at the reply and the worry she felt inside of herself hushed over her face a brief second before she recomposed herself with a deep breath.

“Ivy Hallow, I’m 25, blood type is A-, and I think I’ve been afflicted for at least a year…” she replied, futzing with her fingers again. “Can I put my glove back on?” she asked softly. The witch was quiet as she watched the words appear along the page with the soft glow of her compass. The needle still always pointed toward its master.

“No, it's better to let the decay air out a bit, if kept in a wet moist environment like a glove it will worsen quicker,” she muttered as the words finished on the page. “Nice to meet you Ivy, my name is Crow Scarletwood.”

“Let's start you with a bath, and you too Juniper,” the witch said to the sticky raccoon who was sitting by her feet. The raccoon chattered, making Crow roll her eyes. “No, you can’t just lick it off. That's disgusting,” she muttered to the bandit and beckoned for Ivy to come deeper into the house. “Did you bring any other clothing with you?”

Ivy perked up and looked at Crow for a short moment before following her. “I did, yes. They are in my backpack. A bath sounds awesome,” she replied, taking it off along with her messenger bag she used to store things she needed more frequently. “Is she your familiar?”

“Yes, she is, and she is horrible at her job.” Crow huffed, making Juniper chatter louder. “Familiars are meant to help witches, not steal from them.” She climbed the winding staircase to the top level and there was a simple cozy bathroom at the top.

Juniper scrambled up the hand railing and flopped on to the soft plush rug in the bathroom. The bathtub had cloud feet and was a soft violet hue. The two spigots were the mouths of dragons with their wings as knobs. Warm soft towels hung beside the small toilet and there was a wide counter and mirror of makeup. The walls had lovely lavender wallpaper and a large cabinet for all bathtime needs.

“My house changes based on my needs. If you need a room let me know. Now, let's see, I might need to use extra soap on you two.” she sighed, opening a cabinet filled with brilliant glittery jars of all kinds. Each seemed to be alive and moving on the inside as if it was breathing somehow.

“What is your favorite scent?” Crow asked, her thin fingers tracing over the corks on the bottles.