"Hello?" A male voice boomed from the other room, shattering the bizarre scene. Dawn Jean's frown deepened, a furrow etching itself between her brows. Cera, still caught in the throes of her laughter, could only stare, the absurdity of the situation hitting her full force. Crystals? This? Her mind reeled, struggling to grasp the reality of the strange room and the otherworldly scene unfolding before her clouded senses.

  The knocking grew louder and more demanding. Dawn Jean's face became more annoyed with each sound coming from the other room. Cera laughed and yelled, “Go away, the lady is trying to show me a magic trick!”

  "Can someone please open the door, I just need to pick up a couple of things!" the man's voice boomed again, followed by another insistent knock. Dawn slammed her hand beside the book, a frustrated gesture, before rising from her seat.

  "Give me a moment, Cera. But while you wait, why don't you drink some more of that tea?" she said, her voice strained. With that, Dawn quickly left the room. Cera sipped her tea as she heard the sound of the bell – the one by the front entrance – ringing just like before.

  “We are closed," Dawn Jean called from the other room. The bell clanged again, even louder this time. "Sir, I did say we're closed," she said, her voice firm.

  "The sign outside says open until six," the man argued. "Google says the same thing." He entered the shop, the muffled sounds of his footsteps preceding him.

  “We closed early because of the weather.”

  "It's Seattle," the man countered, "it rains all the time. I promise I'll be quick, I just need a couple of things." His voice pressed on, making it clear he wouldn't accept no for an answer. Frantic footsteps echoed from the other room. Cera could then hear the heavier thud of the man's steps intermingled with the shuffle of Dawn Jean's following him. "Wormwood and horehound, that's all I need," he called out.

  “I would be happy to send you another shop I know of, sir,” Dawn Jean said with annoyance in her voice. The footsteps continued for a moment before pausing. “They really aren’t too far from here, I can even give you the number to call them to make sure they have what you need.”

  Why, when you have what I need right here on this table? I'll even pay double what you're asking! I don't have time to go to another store. I'll even pay more than the marked price!"

  "Sir, I'm asking you to leave. I have the right to refuse service."

  "Closing early for rain in this region? And turning down more money for your common herbs? Sounds like you're not much of a businesswoman."

  Cera started to giggle again as she was listening in. There was a silence for a moment, which made her even more curious of what was happening in the other room. What normally would sound like an awkward exchange seemed to play out like a comedy in Cera’s state.

  "How about I make you a deal?" Dawn Jean said, her tone shifting to a warmth similar to what Cera had experienced earlier. “I can show you something that is really special.”

  The other room fell silent. Cera, wondering what was happening, didn't hear the doorbell ring, which meant the man hadn't left. Then, she heard footsteps – slow, methodical steps approaching her. The two figures appeared in the doorway. Dawn Jean wore a wide grin, and the man stood beside her.

  The man was tall and lanky, clad in a black peacoat damp from the weather outside. His sandy blonde hair was wet and messy, mirroring his well-trimmed beard of the same color. Even with the beard, his well-defined jawline stood out, accentuated by his deep blue eyes.

  "You are going to witness something tonight that very few ever see," Dawn Jean said, her eyes turning back to Cera. She grabbed Cera's hand and began twirling her fingers again gently against Cera's palm. "After I swap bodies with this pretty thing, I am going to have some fun with you."

  Cera laughed. "Swap bodies? That's not very possible."

  "It is possible," Dawn replied. Cera began to feel the same warm feeling from earlier, her body growing more relaxed and her thoughts drifting away. "Soon I'll be in your body," Dawn continued, "and you'll be watching as if you were a passenger."

  “What will you do with me?” The man mumbled barely audible as Dawn Jean walked back to her seat, sitting comfortably as she raised her hands to candles dancing as they had before.

  “I am going to get creative, but I can’t let you leave after seeing my secrets,” Dawn Jean answered.

  Dawn Jean's humming began again, a low, haunting tune that sent shivers down Cera's spine. The man remained a statue, silent and unmoving. Dawn Jean's eyes glazed over, her voice dropping to a murmur of words that seemed to crawl from another world.

  “So you use the Naan Dar Shiv’s method,” The man interrupted suddenly with a cracked grin across his face. Dawn Jean’s focus once again broken, a puzzled look on her face. “It’s sort of rudimentary and does require the person to consent to being entered.”

  “How dare you talk to me that way, apologize immediately!” “

  No, I don’t think I am going to do that,” the man replied. “So you charm them and then basically drug them with Darkwood tea?”

  Dawn Jean’s face went from puzzled to shocked. Cera was even more confused as she wondered what the man meant by being charmed. “Your aura is almost non-existent, there was no way you could have resisted.”

  “But I did,” the man replied dryly.

  "Who are you?" Dawn Jean demanded, rising from her seat, her eyes locked on the mysterious man. The air began to chill, the flickering candlelight overwhelmed by the frigid air quickly plunged the room into darkness.

  "Maybe he's the Grey sorcerer dude you're crushing on," Cera interrupted, a fit of laughter escaping her lips. Completely oblivious, she shattered the tense atmosphere Dawn Jean and the man shared.

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  "What's your name, young lady?" the man inquired, his gaze unwavering from Dawn Jean.

  "Cera," she replied bubbly.

  "Well, Cera, I apologize for the discomfort this will cause," the man responded, turning his palm towards her. His fingers danced in intricate movements before he uttered a single, powerful word: "Purge."

  Cera’s stomach began to recoil and she did indeed feel a discomfort as she felt something starting to rise in her throat. It happened quickly as she turned her head to the left facing the ground and began to purge the contents of her stomach to the floor below.

  She wretched for another moment, but then she began to feel clear-headed. Her eyes widened as she looked at the two magic users standing before her. She had never seen anything like it. Faint colors seemed to radiate from the two figures as they stared at each other.

  The man glowed with a variety of reds, almost like heat radiating off him, as if he'd just stepped out of a scorching shower. Dawn Jean mirrored the effect, though her aura pulsed with a deep violet that concentrated around her head and shoulders. It was far more intense than the man's.

  "What the hell is happening?" Cera shrieked, her mind snapping clear as she witnessed the tense standoff. Dawn Jean, a wicked smile twisting her lips, kept her gaze locked on the stranger. Her fingers danced in the air, and with a flick of her wrist, the candles flared to life, pulsing brightly and bathing the room in an fiery glow.

  Another flick of Cera's wrist intensified the dark violet aura around Dawn Jean. The man, caught off guard, went flying into the wall with a heavy thud. A groan escaped his lips as his body crumpled to the floor. Dawn Jean let out a chilling laugh. "A pathetic parlor magician," she spat, her voice dripping with contempt.

  “This isn’t real,” Cera said. “Is this some sort of sick joke?”

  Pushing himself up with his palms, the man locked eyes with Cera, blood trickling down from his split lip. "Get out of here now!" he yelled.

  Cera's eyes widened as she saw more hints of the violet colored aura spreading through the room, almost consuming the room they all stood in. Dawn Jean started walking towards the man who finally stood.

  “I see you might be a little fun,” she cackled.

  "I thought I told you to get out," the man said, regaining his balance as Dawn Jean's fingers tightened. Cera froze, the euphoria she'd felt moments ago replaced by a growing sense of danger. Her eyes darted around the room. To escape, she'd have to run past Dawn Jean.

  "Go!" the man yelled, his fingers curling into a strange pattern. Red aura flickered from his fingertips as Cera made a desperate dash for the door. She caught a glimpse of Dawn Jean's face, a wicked grin spreading across it. With a subtle flick of her hand, a forceful gust of wind knocked Cera to the ground.

  Dawn Jean laughed as her gaze returned to the man. With a swipe of her hand, she knocked him down with even more force. The red flickers between his fingers began to dim as Dawn Jean waved her hand again, launching him from the floor into a sickening thud against the wall.

  "You've wasted enough of my time today," Dawn Jean hissed, stepping forward with a menacing flourish of her hand. The man was propelled backward with renewed force, crashing into the wall once more. "Pathetic little magic users, overestimating your abilities."

  The man slid down the wall, his body crumpling onto the hard floor. Dawn Jean walked over, casually resting her foot on his chest. She studied him intently, her gaze falling to a strange necklace wrapped around his neck. A peculiar round medallion, adorned with unfamiliar inscriptions, hung from the chain.

  The man laughed weakly, coughing from the pain of being tossed around like a rag doll. Dawn Jean knelt over him, studying the medallion. The worn bronze was heavy, the meticulously carved inscriptions gleaming faintly in the dim light. As she grasped it, she felt a strange sensation.

  "What is this?" she gasped, watching her own aura being drawn into the heavy bronze circle. Cera noticed something even stranger: the red hues emanating from the man intensified dramatically. These crimson shades flooded the room, overpowering the purple tones of Dawn Jean's aura.

  "You were right, pathetic magic users overestimating their power," the man said with a bloody smirk. He reached behind his neck and removed the medallion, placing it in Dawn Jean's hand as the red hues consumed the room. The crimson light intensified as the man stood up.

  "This can't be," Dawn Jean gasped, dropping the medallion onto the wooden floor with a dull thud. She quickly stood up and waved her hands as before, unleashing another forceful gust of wind. The man was struck with a heavy impact, but remained standing, unfazed.

  Cera watched, stunned, as Dawn Jean swiped her hand again, unleashing an even more ferocious gust of wind at the man. The powerful blast barely ruffled his hair or jacket. Dawn Jean's eyes widened in panic as she frantically waved her hand, sending one final, desperate gust that flew past the man and cracked the wall behind him.

  “Enough,” the man said as he flicked his wrist and curled his fingers simultaneously. The room fell silent as Dawn Jean arm quivered as if she was trying to move. Her eyes were wide, full of panic, and as Cera looked her mind turned by all the things she was witnessing.

  “What is this?” Dawn Jean shrieked, still struggling to move her arm. Cera watched in astonishment as she realized Dawn Jean’s legs were behaving similarly, struggling against an unseen force. It left her utterly bewildered. Just moments ago, Dawn Jean had been throwing the stranger around the room, but now the tables seemed to have turned.

  “You haven’t figured it out?” the man said, advancing towards Dawn Jean. “Look closely, and you’ll notice my aura has essentially wrapped around you.”

  Dawn Jean’s eyes darted around her body, and Cera saw it too. It was as if the woman were being engulfed by a vibrant red hug emanating from the strange man. Dawn Jean began to struggle as the man casually approached her, his demeanor completely changed from the previously being outmatched.

  “How long have you been doing this?” he asked curiously.

  “Since before you were pissing in your pants,” Dawn Jean spat out, her helplessness turning to anger. As she tried to twitch her fingers to no avail. The man placed his hand on her forehead and stared at Dawn Jean as she continued to struggle.

  “You would think one would have spent time learning more than Naan Dar’s basic spells,” the man replied. The red hues began to swirl around the room as if a vortex were spinning around him. Colored energies began to glow from his hand as he chanted a simple phrase, “relinq corpor.”

  Cera felt a strange pressure on her body. It was almost suffocating, but her eyes were locked on the two as she saw the red shades from the man enter Dawn Jean's eyes. She trembled violently, as if convulsing, but after a moment, shades of purple and violet began to erupt from her eyes, as if the red energy coming from the man was forcing the violet and purple energy to purge from her body.

  The agonizing screams came from Dawn Jean, but the man held his hand firmly on her head as if patiently waiting for it all to end. Cera felt the pressure on her body intensify, and exhaustion crept in as she struggled against the force, yet she dared not look away. She forced herself to watch as Dawn Jean’s body began to wrinkle, her skin sagging, and her form growing limp by the moment. The colors in the room swirled from shades of red to purple, erupting from Dawn Jean’s eyes.

  The man then removed his hand from Dawn Jean’s forehead. Her body crumpled to the floor with a sickening thud, like a dropped bag of produce, splattering across the ground. Cera’s eyes remained fixed on the man, but her eyelids grew heavy as the oppressive weight of the room bore down on her.

  He walked over to the bronze medallion lying on the floor and picked it up. After a moment’s contemplation, he slipped it around his neck. The crimson hues that had suffused the room began to fade subtly, and the pressure on Cera’s body gradually eased.

  The room was a wreck: cracked walls, dust-covered floors, and remnants of overturned candles. Cera struggled to stay awake, her body heavy with exhaustion. She kept her eyes on the stranger, mustering the last of her strength to mumble, "What was that?"