Fajra was sitting in her chair, trying to warm her old bones, in front of the little stove when the soft knock broke the silence surrounding her. Fajra sighed, and rose slowly. She hobbled over to the door, and swung it open.

A woman stood there in the dark looking up at her with a well-aged face. She watched the croon with eyes consumed with pain before she spoke.

"You're a witch right?"

Fajra gave a small nod to the old woman. She wasn't as old as Fajra, but didn't have too many more years left in her considering the worn hands, and hunched back.

"May I come in, Witch?"

Fajra stepped aside to let the woman in. There was no distain or accusation in the woman's voice. She was a broken woman now, and she wore it like a burden smothering every breath from her.

Fajra didn't bother with the stool, and instead dropped her bunk down for the woman to rest on.

"I thank you kindly, Witch." The woman said as she eased onto the bed. "I've heard of you before, but I never thought I'd see you."

Fajra settled into her chair, "I go where I'm needed."

The woman gave her a fail smile, "I never thought I'd need someone like you either, but here I am- desperate."

Fajra didn't respond. She knew that this woman needed to tell her everything before the croon fixed it, and she would do that service for her. The woman more than deserved it.

"I thought my life was so perfect, having a wonderful husband and all. The miscarriages were hard, but we endured together until we managed our beautiful children. Three of them in fact, and life was perfect.

"I always thought it'd stay like that too. I thought I'd grow old with my dear love, and watch our children grow. I thought that life would always be perfect for me.

"Our youngest, and the only boy, was the first to fall ill. Days later my love was just as stricken. The doctors knew nothing, and could do nothing though they tried everything. I had to tend to the two of them as they rotted alive before my eyes.

"Two weeks after my husband fell ill, the oldest child, my little baby girl did too. Again the doctors could do nothing, but she didn't die as quickly as the boys. No, I had to watch her struggle for life for over a month before death claimed her.

"She looked so awful at the end, and she begged me to kill her so it could end and she would stop suffering, but I couldn't do it. I knew my husband could have, but he was gone and I was too weak. So instead I watched as she died, and I think she came to hate me at the end.

"It was just me and my middle girl left then. I thought maybe we were safe, but then, about a year after her sister passed, she fell ill too. Her death was quick and only took a few days- the shortest of all of them.

"The doctors didn't even bother to come with her. I think they were scared; everyone else in the village was. Only my family fell ill though."

The woman fell silent, and the silence stretched around them. Fajra was loath to break it, but she had to if she were to help this woman.

"You have to tell me what you want before I can enact it." The croon told the woman softly.

She nodded, "I- I can't kill myself either despite how much I want to die. C-can you do it for me?"

Fajra could hear the sorrow plaguing the woman lacing her voice. She stood, and retrieved a vial. She hobbled over to the woman, and placed it in her hands.

"Drink this now."

"I can't!"

"This won't kill you, so drink up." As the woman did so Fajra took a bit of the woman's hair. Then she took back the empty vial.

"Now go home, or to where ever you liked to be when it happens. I won't do anything for a while yet. "

The woman stood and bowed to the croon. "I'll go visit their graves before returning home. I want to leave this world where they did. Thank you."

The croon nodded, and watched the woman go before she set to work.

As she worked she frowned. This would have been a perfect thing to show Amika that the world wasn't black and white like the young woman believed. The croon knew that soon enough Amika would learn just how much gray was in their world.