Joe couldn’t decide whether she wanted to somersault around in the cottage with joy, or flip the bird at the witch for all the stress she’d put her through. In the end, the girl merely settled for a massive sigh of relief. And then she slumped down in one of the chairs with a particularly unladylike groan.

 

“Well, now that the matter of gifts is out of the way,” Sandy gracefully settled on the opposite seat. “Ask away your questions, girly.”

 

The aforementioned ‘girly’ felt a slight twitch in her left eye. “Kindly stop calling me that, madam Sandy.”

 

The witch grinned. Age and wisdom had sharpened her eyes over the decades, and Joe felt like she was constantly being toyed with by the elder.

 

And the old hag wasn’t even being subtle about it!

 

“Ah, my apologies.” Her gravelly voice was full of mock sarcasm. “I would have stopped calling you ‘girly’, you see, but I do not know your name.”

 

Joe frowned, eyes scrunched up in confusion. “I have told you my name, madam.” What was this woman playing at now?

 

“But you didn’t, did you?” The witch answered without missing a beat. “I asked for your name, but you never gave it to me. I prefer to know who goes in and out of my yard. Introduce yourself properly, and you will be addressed as such. Until then, you shall be ‘girly’ and nothing else.”

 

Joe gawked at the woman with her jaw hung open. This lying hag! What the hell did she mean by ‘Never gave it to me’?! ‘Introduce yourself’ my ass! Joe had done just that not thirty minutes ago!

 

Was the witch going senile?!

 

“Hey, with all due respect, I’d prefer it if you didn’t lie to me.” The girl narrowed her eyes. “Are you hard of hearing? Didn’t I properly, clearly introduce myself when I first met you just a while ago?”

 

“Curious! I could’ve sworn that you didn’t tell me your name.”

 

“I did too.” Joe was beginning to think the woman was doing this on purpose. And if it was a ploy to piss her off, she had to admit that it was working verrry well.

 

“Lies, girly. Lies, all of them.”

 

Oh, for the love of— ! The girl gritted her teeth in restraint. “My name Joanna Valeria Winsten, all right? JOANNA WINSTEN! Did you hear that?”

 

Another infuriating smirk. “No. Tell me your name. Again.”

 

“Wha—” Joe leapt up the couch with a scowl, all high class manners forgotten. “What is it with you, lady?! What the devil do you WANT from me?!”

 

Nero chose that moment to clear his throat purposefully. Loudly.

 

The sound yanked the girl back to her senses, before she realized exactly where she was. This was the witch’s atelier, in the witch’s very own namesake forest. Joe balled her fists and sat back down sullenly, feeling very foolish all of a sudden. She had proclaimed herself a guest in the cottage, and it was unbecoming of a guest to raise their voice in the host’s home.

 

 Even if the aforementioned host was currently being an absolute dick to her.

 

“What I want,” Sandy continued nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t been fazed at the volume at all. “… is to hear your name. Your real name.”

 

Joe was puzzled. “My real— ”

 

“…Name, yes. You have one, don’t you? In your own world?”

 

The girl froze in her seat. The witch of the west was now staring at her like she was seeing an entirely different person; like the woman knew all the secrets to the universe and was dangling the answers right in front of her. Joe wanted to speak something, anything, but found the words stuck to her throat.

 

This was the first time anyone had openly acknowledged the existence of her old world.

 

Lady Joanna seemed to be thinking long the same lines. “Just how does this woman know about that?”

 

“Joanna Stuart.” The two words had escaped her lips before Joe could ponder upon it. Her old name sounded strange to her own ears.

 

Nero raised a curious brow, but did not comment on it. He hadn’t interrupted the entire time, other than the clearing of his throat at the most impeccable timing. The man was watching the entire conversation as if he was a mere fly sitting on the wall.

 

“Ah, now we are talking.” The witch seemed satisfied. “Although, it is indeed curious that your real name has been the same as the new one handed to you in this world.”

 

“H-How—” Joe was now stammering, unable to fully articulate the question that lay in the tip of her tongue.

 

Sandy rested her chin on a palm. “Take a guess, Joanna Staurt.”

 

Nope, the name still sounded strange. Joe tried cleaning the gunk out of her ears. Had she gone and gotten that attached to the mouthful ‘Joanna Valeria Winsten’?

 

“Madam Sandy, h-have you, by any chance, arrived here from the modern world as well?”

 

The smirk in Sandy’s face was now a stretched to a full-blown grin. “Bingo.”

 

 

                               -------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

There were a million little queries buzzing around in her head. Joe shoved all but one of them in the in the back-burner. The matter of the questions could wait. There was another living, breathing person from her home world standing right in front of her eyes. Another person who had waded through the craziness of this world and survived. The girl wrung her hands nervoulsy. Suddenly the old hag didn’t seem all that intimidating anymore.

 

“Have you ever—” she gulped. “Have you ever considered going back to the modern world?”

 

The witch gave her a tight-lipped smile. “And that’s question number two. Yes, I have thought about it. And tried my hand at escaping this world as well.” She casually gestured at herself, as if saying: The results are as you can see.

 

Joe groaned in frustration. She hadn’t even considered it as a question. But in the hindsight, that confirmed a lot of her niggling suspicions. If someone like the Witch of the West had tried and failed to escape Triciella, Joe didn’t know what she could hope for anymore. The entire situation was pissing her off to no end, and it wasn’t even her own fault!

 

“What happened, ‘girly’? Are really you giving up this early?” Lady Joanna sang in her head.

 

That annoyingly shrill voice sent a surge of white hot anger curling in her stomach. Joe licked her lips. ‘No way in hell, my lady.’

 

The witch must have sensed the change in her demeanor. “Well, I haven’t got all day. Ask away your third question, Joanna Stuart.”

 

“Of course.” Joe knew the question that she had wanted to ask most of all. If all else fails, Joe figured that she would actually need to dig up some dirt regarding the man of space-time magic. It didn’t matter if she had a whole fantasy world plotting against her, Joe wouldn't just lie down and live away her life in Triciella!

 

Every record of magic that she’d read so far preached the same damn things in a loop. Four elements, mixed and matched like frigging cocktails, and conveniently handed out at birth. None of the books went above and beyond that. Nobody had mentioned anything like a space-time magic, and Joe hadn’t the slightest clue about it.

 

But before that—

 

“Tell me the origins of magic in this world.”

 

She couldn’t afford to be clueless now. She needed to know everything. And for that, the only plausible place to start was the beginning of beginnings.

 

“Such a strange question right off the bat.” The witch smiled mysteriously. “However, that one is going to open up a whole can of worms. Are you sure that you want to hear all of it?”

 

“Yes, do go ahead.” Joe wanted the answer to a whole lot of things, but this was the phenomenon that puzzled her the most.

 

Sandy eyed the grim determination in her face with approval.

 

“Very well. Let us do it this way, Joanna. I shan’t give you the answer straight away, for that would defeat the very purpose of this meeting. Instead, I want you to give me your own perspective about the thing called magic. If I see you getting derailed, I shall lead you to the correct answer.”

 

How is that different from me answering your questions?! Joe thought sulkily. The witch was just doing whatever she wanted, wasn’t she? Dammit, this wasn’t what they had agreed upon! What did the hag mean by ‘defeat the purpose’ anyway?! Was she making up her own little stories in her head?

 

It was quite evident from her smirk that the witch wouldn’t agree to any other condition, so Joe conceded reluctantly. She had to return to the Winsten manor soon, dammit!

 

“Tell me then, Joanna.” Sandy was looking at her straight in the eyes with an unreadable expression on her wrinkled face. “Where do you think the magic of this world actually comes from?”

 

It wasn’t as if the girl hadn’t wondered about it before. Before she had arrived in this world, Triciella was just another fictional setting created for just another one of Gracie’s sappy video games. Back then, the existence of magic had been just another weird quirk of the story.

 

But now that she was no longer Joanna Stuart, but rather a defenseless Joanna Winsten living in that very world, the concept of magic was a matter of grave importance. It could very well mean the difference between life and death over this side of the reality. And that wasn’t even the biggest suspicion in Joe’s mind.

 

In her endlessly suspicious mind, the question merely boiled down to: How the hell does this magic exist in the first place?!

 

It wasn’t as if normal people could merely light fire with the tip of their fingers or cause the human blood to dance around in the veins. It wasn’t like one could freely manipulate the wind and the earth and the vegetation of this world on a whim. No, normal humans shouldn’t be biologically capable of that.

 

 Joe frowned, feeling that she was this close to the answer and yet so far.

 

“Well, I don’t think that I know enough about this world to be able to boldly answer your questions,” The girl finally shrugged, “…But I could arrive at two conclusions: 1) Either the common folks here are not humans, but some kind of humanoid species that can innately use magic; or 2) They are actually human beings who have evolved over time to be able to use the magic. Possibly due to external influence.”

 

The old witch widened her grin, looking far more smug and twice and gleeful than before. “And?”

 

Joe swallowed. “And I think that the magic isn’t as abstract entity that everyone believes it to be.”

 

“Oh? Do elaborate.”

 

“I mean…” Joe groaned, trying to form the coherent explanation in her mind. “…In my journey, I have met people who didn’t treat magic as a separate entity. They never question its origin, ponder about its existence. They act as if humans wielding magic powers were the most obvious thing in the world, when in reality, it cannot be so. Err— to be more accurate, it isn’t so where I come from.”

 

The naked confusion on the faces of Mathilda, Ted and Wicksie immediately sprung to her mind.

 

A wrinkled finger tapped upon the wooden table. “Very well. And now onto your original argument.” The witch looked like Christmas had arrived a month earlier than usual. She was enjoying this a lot, Joe thought sullenly.

 

“Out of those two potential reasons, which one do you think makes more sense, Joanna?”

 

“The second.” The girl replied without missing a beat. She blinked, and then scratched her head self-consciously. “I—I mean, that’s just my personal opinion. And the reason for that is the forest of Sandora, you see? The kingdom wouldn’t have a magical, ever-autumnal forest if the magic and its attributes were only limited to the innate ability of human beings. The kingdom would not have these weird pockets of Devil’s Dew, or those strange, sparkling pixie roses which lose their pixie dusts overnight.”

 

“Magic is, indeed wielded by the humans in this world, but you can actually find the traces of magic in the nature around here as well. If one thinks about it properly, how is that magic could exist infinitely in Sandora if no mortal human could trespass into the forest in the first place?”

 

“What I mean is, it is not that humans have created the magic and affected the nature with it. In fact, it seems like the other way round.” Joe took a deep, shuddering breath. “There is something that exists naturally in this world, which has granted humans the ability to use magic.”

 

“…And what would that something be?” Sandy was now watching her face like a hawk.

 

“I don’t know!” Joe muttered in frustration. “If I knew that then I could get all the answers myself! There’d be no point in coming here! All I know that it has something to do with the bubblebirds. Those are the only living things apart from the pixie roses that seem to have any connection to the magic at all.”

 

Why, the bubblebirds almost seem to be the root of all her problems! She fucking knew that those loony little shits were up to no good, dammit!

 

A sudden sound of applaud jolted her out of the stewing thoughts. Joe snapped her head towards the witch, only to find her clapping away with a childlike glee. Her wizened face had ‘Eureka!’ written all over it.

 

“Splendid!” There was a note of approval in her voice. It was— almost friendly. “As expected my fellow outsider. You figured out in an instant the very thing that had taken me several agonizing years to realize!”

 

Was it that big of a deal? Joe thought self-consciously. It was just the most logical conclusion she had arrived at in the heat of the moment, and she hadn’t thought much of it at all.

 

“Maybe, y’know, the Witch of the West is actually pretty dumb?” Lady Joanna supplied unhelpfully.

 

‘Eh, I wouldn’t know.’ Joe scratched her head again, and found the grinning face of Sandy frighteningly close to her ears.

 

“You were thinking of something rude, weren’t you?” The witch’s whisper was deceptively pleasant to hear.

 

The girl shuddered.

 

“Ahem!”

 

There was another loud clearing of throat. Nero gave a ‘We-don’t-have-time-for-this’ look at Sandy, scrunching his eyebrows pointedly. Joe was almost thankful for the interruption, almost, before she remembered that she couldn’t trust this guy either.

 

“Very well.” Sandy straightened up again. “I will clear the suspicion that’s undoubtedly floating around in your mind, Joanna. Tell me, what do you think is the main difference between your perception of the magic, and that of the common people of this world?”

 

Joe scrunched up her freckled face in confusion. What did the difference of perception matter here? Didn’t the entire concept of magic follow the same rules and same restrictions?

 

It suddenly occurred to the girl that she knew exactly what Sandy was talking about. Because Joe was just as much of an ‘outsider’ as the witch was. And magic was a concept that the so-called ‘outsiders’ would never be able to completely wrap their heads around.

 

“The common folk of Triciella do not question the origins of magic.” Joe realized, “And it is because they grew up with magic all around them. To them, it is the same thing as the sun and the sky and the stars. It exists because it exists, and they do not feel the need to know the reason behind it at all.”

 

“…Which is strange for me, coming from a world where such magic doesn’t exist. So I will question it again and again. Because to an outsider, the magic doesn’t exist unconditionally. And the fact that we outsiders try to find logic in that illogical magic, is why the people here would call us mad. It is because I can snoop around and dig up questions that no one has bothered to ask before.”

 

Sandy graced her with a crooked grin. “Exactly. As a better example, think of magic as a popular pop-idol in this world, and the citizens of Triciella as her die-hard fans. To the fans, their idol is the closest to a perfect being. They won’t hear any criticisms about her, they won’t try to question her charm. To them, the fact that she may be an actual human with her own flaws and struggles is incomprehensible.”

 

“We outsiders are the critics who don’t buy her façade of perfection. And anyone who tries to insinuate that is written off as completely mad.” Joe was beginning to see where the old woman was coming from. The analogy was just as incredulous as it was accurate.

 

“Now what do you think happens when such an outsider has lived here for years and decades, alongside with the common-folks of this world?”

 

The answer finally dawned upon Joe in bits and pieces. A horrified feeling crept up her spine. “The outsider would eventually become desensitized to the entire fucking concept of magic over the years!”

 

Sandy ignored the slang. “Yes. It is less like being desensitized, and more of a subtle brainwash. Of course, it doesn’t matter for the people who were born in this world. But as an outsider, the more time you spend frolicking around in this world, the less questions you have. Over time, this world will mould you into one of its own, until you completely stop questioning the existence of magic.”

 

Joe suddenly found it very hard to swallow. It hadn’t been even three weeks since she’d landed in this godforsaken land, and she was already unsure if she was sane in the head. Would she forget about her own identity? Would she forget her real name? It was already beginning to sound strange to her ears. Would the memories of her original world, her own world be wiped clean over the decades?

 

Will she have to remain stuck in here for decades?!

 

Joe slowly looked up at the wrinkled old hag standing in front of her. There was a haunting shadow of loneliness in her grey eyes. The girl wondered with a stab of guilt, how had she missed it the first time? The witch had never looked more human before. “When did you arrive in this world, Sandy?”

 

The witch’s smile had a trace of tired resignation to it. “Ah, question number four. About fifty-nine years ago. The body I had landed in was that of a mere child of four years old.”

 

It suddenly became crystal clear why it had taken Sandy years to realize the most basic of things. As if reading her mind, the woman shook her head wistfully. Joe decided silently that she didn’t like that resigned look on her face.

 

“When I first arrived here, I was completely besotted with the existence of magic. Unlike you, I never looked for a logic behind it. Magic shouldn’t be bound by logic, I thought. I read up a storm about all kinds of magical abilities and attributes, went out of my way to meet all kinds of people. Figured that I’d enjoy it while it lasted. I spent the first few years, and I quote myself, ‘frolicking’ around in this world.”

 

“…And then you realized that you had no magic of your own.” Joe finished.

 

“Imagine that.” The woman huffed out a bitter laugh. “It was probably this world’s way of putting me in my place. Then I realized that I wanted out. And much, much later I realized that the magic itself was my way out. But no matter how much I researched, there wasn’t much progress about the origins of magic. Answers evaded me for decades, logic led me around loops. Because I had spent much amount of time under this world’s influence.”

 

She stared straight ahead into Joe’s golden eyes. “You, on the other hand, have much better chances than me, Joanna. Because you have just arrived, and you have just got the spendidly inquisitive mind that is needed to hunt for the answers. You do not take magic for granted, and you don’t let this world’s charm fool you.”

 

“This is why you asked me all those confusing questions instead of giving me the answers straight away.” Joe slowly realized with wonder. “You wanted to see how I have fared against the glamour and glitter of this world thus far…!”

 

The fierceness was back once again in the witch’s steely eyes. “Quite precisely, my fellow outsider. You cannot fathom the origins of magic without dipping your hand into that can of worms. Keep your wits about and cling to all your stinking suspicions, until you can dig out the answers on your own.”

 

“You may have been just a regular human who ended up here accidentally, but right here and right now, you are the craziest, maddest person in this world, Joanna Stuart.”