Nothing feels like me.

My own limbs feel foreign, loaned to me accidentally and willing to be returned to their real owner - every small movement of fingertip or jaw is a negotiation between my keen mind and uncooperative body. The faint, blurred image of two women clasping hands tightly before me is the only thing able to keep my mind focused.

I try to focus on her lips, slow, purposeful words seeping from them; every syllable pronounced with eagerness. A subtle glow lingers on their hands, the colour forming from their combined magic. With hands connected together, their other lay pressed against their chest. They speak words I do not understand at a pace I cannot keep up with while I am in this state; hands and feet bound tightly there is little I can do but let them continue.

"You ready?" The older of the two says, the words comprehensible enough for me to understand. A flash of head movement from the other, however, produces a flurry inside my head. I am suddenly unable to focus once again; my mind transforming objects around me into smears; the women becoming indistinguishable from what they stood around.

Her reply was mostly lost to me, the picked out words that survived barely formulating a sentence, "Just make... don't... again."

My eyes closed sharply; allowing myself to succumb to the emptiness around me, the lack of sound and the lack of feeling becoming home to me. I had to resign myself to the realisation that I hadn't made it to the pair in time. I had lost this battle.

"Focus," Her voice broke through with a lilt I recognised immediately, words soft with an audible smile playing on her face. Her hands clasped tightly on both sides of my face, and despite my eyes being clenched shut I could tell she was gazing deeply at me; and when I forced them open my suspicions were confirmed; the abnormal yellow glow in her eyes taking hold of my consciousness. She offered a small smile as I felt her thumbs graze against my cheeks slowly before her contact with me was broken, and she fell back in line with her sister.

It didn't take long for them to begin murmuring again, that charismatic language that was spoken with a poised body and a fluid delivery. The sisters clasping hands again found themselves speaking in unison as they performed an unfamiliar spell, "Quaerimus ultra lamia in auxilium. Auxilium tuum nobis defendat. Auxilium tuum nobis, et auferes malum de. Auxilium tuum nobis, purgare corpus dolet. Praeter quod quaerimus."

Then it arrives again. All-consuming darkness. Only interrupted by the realisation I felt colder than usual; a feat for me by any regard.

It wasn't the first time I'd been chained so tightly to a wall; enough times at least that the marks were still settling on my skin - some ran so deep it was necessary to mould my newer tattoos around them. It was also seemingly less than likely to be the last time either. I couldn't help but be slightly taken aback by the predicament, because of all the people I thought Eva and Nora could trust me, and if not Eva, at least Nora.

There was little time to consider this irrational betrayal that had been run-through and labelled in my mind already because the moment trust came to mind, a hand forcefully connected with the side of my face. It lingered against my skin as she came into focus. My Norie.

"Don't freak out, my love. It was necessary." Her words were spoken delicately, a slow embrace of syllables pairing with the light caressing of the hand that lingered on my side. The feeling of such contact is only matched by the petaled touch of her lips against my other cheek; a hint of coolness persisting as she removes herself from me.

The moment of bliss could only be tainted by the fidgeting sister behind her - the irritation within her posture demanded my attention change direction; the older sister's eyes flicked between us and the book clutched in a tight grasp. Her face has sagged in boredom; empty air filling the room as she waited for Nora to take a few steps from me. A throat clear shared between the two sisters was enough to get Eva to loosen her scowl, "It's a powerful spell. It's only been performed a few times in our ancestral history but each of those times the receiver of the spell has taken it so badly they begin to claw themselves open to distract themselves from the pain. There's a two-page long description of someone ripping out their own heart,"

She took that opportunity to offer me a wide grin, the book dropping from her grip and onto the table beside her, "And as much as I'd love to watch you pull your own heart from your chest, I have Nora to think about. I wouldn't put it past her to put my own heart at risk in retaliation."

I had to give that much to her credit. As much as Eva doesn't care what happens to me, she understands that Nora has serious feelings, and considering how much effort she seems to put into looking out for me if I died in her care, I don't know how far sisterhood could save her from the resulting wrath.

The younger sister scoffs, moving further away from me and approaching the fallen book to take it up in her grasp. Her fingers lightly filtered through the pages with a gentleness I didn't expect. She pondered for a moment, the transition of facial expressions indicating she wasn't best pleased. It took a moment to appear; that cocked eyebrow and head tilt of hers - displeasure indicated in a single moment of movement.

"Why haven't we ever rewritten that one in English, Eva? We've had all this time down here, and you told me you'd have all the important ones done by now," Nora had inquired with a bite to her words, the amiable qualities she often possessed dropping for the time being.

Another scoff. The same tone and expression, but this time being released from the mouth of the older. If I didn't know better I would have presumed they just interchanged their voice boxes. In a hurried movement the book is snatched from Nora's hand and placed on the bookshelf on the wall; slightly out of place, the yellow cover clashing with the rest of the shelf; each book an aged blue.

"I'm not touching a spell that powerful yet. I'd need to be Grams' age at least. She perfected each spell from the teachings of the elders, Nora. I am rewriting them on my own without anyone knowing," Eva says pointedly. Despite the edge in the conversation, it didn't feel like my place to contradict what was being said. I had a vast knowledge of the witch-hood, those involved in it, and how much of their world worked, but the inner workings weren't necessarily my expertise. I was limited to what Nora felt she wanted to share, and spells often didn't take precedent in her heart.

"But it doesn't even make sense," Nora says, "If we're going to use a spell it might as well say what we're trying to do, not a terrible interpretation," The words were more pointed. A feat I didn't think was possible when I considered the usual warmness Nora often possessed. There was a deep-set issue here that I hadn't the privilege of knowing yet; we'd been apart too long. This moment, however, didn't give me any time to think further on that, Nora took the opportunity to leave the room with hands crossed over her chest; leaving me positively pinned between a rock and a hard wall. Quite literally too.

Eva found herself watching after Nora, her eyes tailing each forceful foot placement the girl made as she approached me. She exhaled, turning back to look at me, "And there she goes again, ever-irritated by what she is forced to be,"

Her face had fallen in a rare moment of vulnerability; a combination of confusion and genuine disappointment. The statement felt lost on me; the meaning seeming apparent but the feeling behind it a little further from reach; the two were inseparable when it came to magic - both relishing in their abilities for as long as I'd known them. It seemed unfeasible for that to have changed.

While her movements up to this point had been slow and delicate, she had decided to switch this up before I had time to prepare, formulating a word quickly as she stared up at my chains, "Eximo."

It didn't take me very long to figure out what it meant; the chains opening and dropping to the floor with a thud. By the time I could lift my head, Eva had taken her place in the hanging chair in the opposite corner to me; nestled behind plant pots of various unique plants and flowers that rested either on the floor, atop makeshift tables made from crates and baskets, or slowly creeping up the wall on a vine frame, and entangled in throws and cushions. She was gripping tightly to the brown cup in her hand, noticeable steam escaping as she held it to her mouth. The little cat I'd seen earlier was curled beside her in a deep sleep, none the wiser to the world around it.

She had her eyes tightly closed, fixated on something beyond my reasoning. Despite the nerves, she created within me, this moment of peace from the woman gave me time to collect my bearings and observe where they lived and breathed. There is a distinct scent to the room; a collage of aroma from an eclectic amount of plants, herbs and recently lit candles. A quick, yet painful head tilt up allowed me to gander at an arrangement of cream and white sheets that were strung from various points of the ceiling in an effort to both hide what was above and accentuate the feel of the room. I couldn't help but notice how muted the room was; shades that meshed between brown and white and flowed together effortlessly.

While the overall room was clean, neat and meticulously placed there were clear signs Nora had blown through here; the carefully crafted shelf wall on one side of the room that held perfectly placed bamboo-lidded jars with cursive written labels acknowledging the spice and/or herb contents clashed radically with the mish-mash stacks of books thrown open or otherwise around the room, some forming stacks while others sat alone on different pages. The wooden desk on the wall opposite the entrance held a stack of carefully arranged papers, a sage journal stacked neatly on top with a gold pen slid at a 90-degree angle into the twine wrapped around it. This stack was placed in front of five small containers each containing a different type of writing tool; crayon, charcoal, pencil, pen and paintbrush seemingly arranged by the shades of brown.

This only made the randomly placed candles stand out more; the homemade glass jars offering a warm glow in the room, having been recently lit for the spell casting while the candles created in mugs that have had their handles broken and sanded down had recently been blown out completely, leaving a subtle trail of smoke raising up - these particular candles left me questioning which sister created them - it lacked waste but also style, the sanded scrapes having been repainted a subtle gold that shone in the light.

The amount of Nora dotted around in such an Eva space just highlighted how much she seemed to impose herself in magic; while Eva was the more naturally gifted, and therefore, more involved sister, Nora always had a say, and would always lend a hand. She used to perform spells with a bright smile; whether it was growing two-hundred pastel roses in the blink of an eye, freezing people to skip out on a bill or 'creating' new protection spells for me each would be done with enthusiasm and glee.

She loved it. At least that's the thought that came to mind; but the twisted expression on Eva's face made me think otherwise, "She used to love it."

There it was again. That look of confused disappointment was masked quickly with a bemused smile. She enveloped herself further on the chair, knees coming up to her chest as her focus returned to the mug in her hand milliseconds before it came to the verge of spilling.

She had a retort immediately. Like it was something she'd considered more than once, "Yes, well you don't tend to love things that force you to do anything for very long. It isn't easy living down here being an arms-length away from the people you love with only whispers to help them."

Those eyes returned once again, drilling into me. She still blamed me. That much I understood but I couldn't help that now, or even then; I wasn't given much choice in the matter. Nora had covered me in spells and then disappeared before I could have a say in whether she left me or not.

I release a held breath, raising myself from the wooden floor slowly, hands pressing different limbs to check for any lingering pain I'd need blood to heal; dropping to my sides when everything seemed to be ticking over fine.

Even if I cast my mind back to that day, she didn't give any signs to indicate that she wanted me to change her mind. If she'd even hinted that she wanted me to stay by my side I would have taken her hands and forced her to stay; hidden her deep in the zone and not allowed anyone to lay their eyes on her if it meant danger for her.

I can't help but smile at the very thought. She'd never have allowed it. She's far too strong-willed.

"How long did she take to feel..."

I was quickly interrupted, Eva finished my sentence with expected snark, "Feel okay again?" Another scoff as she raises from the chair and takes steps towards me, "She's still not okay again... and now you're here in the flesh and she'll realise that comes with sacrifice. She'll have to say goodbye - again. Then I'll be left to pick up the pieces of her shattered heart - again."

The way she says 'again' almost makes me angry. Almost.

Before I can say anything in my own defence she raises a hand to me, uttering another spell, "Tace."

At first, I can't figure out what the spell has done, my hands patting my body to find the answer, but as I try to question what she'd done, I realise my lips refuse to open. Her eyes trace my body, looking for any issues before she continues her well thought out rant.

"I didn't say you were the one giving her that choice, Nika. I am simply stating that by allowing that naïve sister of mine to taste an ounce of a returned love, she has disguised her reason and morality as unjust factors of a life she is barely bearing. I am fearful of the day she realises free will is only a doorway she has to open."

Her fingers closed over, freeing me from the spell. As my lips are allowed to open again, my mind races ahead with retorts to what Eva has rambled at me - but I didn't feel like arguing with this sister anymore. Not when the other was so close to my grasp after so long.

I lowered myself down to offer the little cat that had followed behind Eva as she'd gotten up off the chair a caress that it'd accepted with soft purrs. As the cat nuzzled against my arm I let myself inhale a few deep breaths before I looked back up at Eva, "Where is she?"

"Her lounge. Take two lefts out the door."