Meth returned well past the witching hour. Her fifteen hour shift at the car festival had ended.

The dilapidated building she called home was cloaked in pitch darkness due to not only the late hour but also because half the other apartments had no tenants.

She dragged her tired body on unsteady feet up the stairs to her own apartment.

Just as she was about to knock, the door was flung open on her face. Amy stood in the doorway, resplendent in a lilac gown, one shade deeper than her lavender hair. The apron over her skirt was a spotless white.

"Welcome back! Why are you hiding your face?"

"You zhit by noze, idiot!"

Amy tilted her head in an incredulous gesture that had become her signature pose, "I'm sure your nose had no business being there."

"Zyeah, my bad,"

"Well, come right in and I can apply the Portia Tincture,"

Meth released her injured nose, "That tincture doesn't work on people!"

Amy frowned. She was even more unconvinced than before, "It worked fine on my finger this very morning."

"Mother Nyx! You're not a person!" Meth bit her tongue but it was too late.

Amy's eyes glittered with tears. "Even after all this time. I'm still not good enough!"

She ran back inside.

"Hey, Am," Meth followed, "I'm sorry, Am, you know that's not what I meant!"

The girl was inconsolable. She sobbed into her apron. Meth mentally thanked the gods for their scarcity of neighbors.

She put her arm around Amy, "Am, please stop. I'm really tired. I didn't mean it."

"You...always...say that," she said between sobs, "I've never been... anything to you."

"You know that's not true," Meth tried again, "You're important to me."

Meth had not lied.

However, her voice remained devoid of emotion. She could hear the jarring superficiality in her tone but she was beyond caring. She wanted a meal and a warm bed.

Amy was starting to calm down.

Meth took that as a hint to get up and close the door. She then went off to wash up and change out of her work clothes.

When she returned to the kitchen-cum-dining area, Amy had already laid out a meal for her.

She ate in silence and left Amy to clean after her.

After dinner, Meth entered the bedroom and plumped down on the comfortable foam mattress. She was about to tuck herself in when Amy peeked inside.

"You want something?" Meth was still being cold.

"I was wondering... " Amy's face was flushed, "Could I sleep in your room tonight?"

"I've told you, Am," but she had to stop after she caught a glimpse of the other's eyes, "Fine, you can sleep with me."

Amy shuffled into the room in her cotton pajamas and pink slippers.

At a cursory glance, she looked no different from any ordinary fifteen or sixteen year old human girl but Meth knew better.

"Don't expect me to talk, I'm going to sleep," Meth warned.

Amy nodded as she slipped under the blankets and snuggled up against the older woman.

*****

The realm of Sleep evaded Meth as she tossed and turned in bed.

Such a shame, considering how quiet Amy was being. She was rarely this peaceful. Too quiet in fact!

Meth reached out to check if the girl was indeed asleep.

Her hand recoiled at the cold sensation. Amy's body had lost all warmth.

"Am?" her voice quivered as she shook the frail form by its shoulders, "Amy are you alright?"

There was no answer. The girl did not awaken.

Meth jumped to her feet. Amy was still lifeless.

"No, no, no," she mumbled as she desperately searched for the remnants of the Portia Tincture.

She found the spare bottle inside the fridge.

Meth rushed back to the bedroom, laid out the body of her companion on the floor and sprinkled copious amounts of the light liquid over her. Then they waited.

*****

It was morning outside. Meth sat with her head resting on the edge of her bed. She must have dozed off because the gentle shaking startled her back to the living realms.

A head of lavender hair and periwinkle eyes stared into her face.

"Are you okay?"

"Amy, you're awake!" Meth hugged the girl.

"Amy? Who's that?"

"It's you." Meth narrated the events that had led up to their present situation. She recalled in detail every scene right from their fated meeting to the day they left the coven.

Every minute detail seemed so relevant after the moment they had just experienced.

"So, let's get this straight." Amy summarized, "You used the legendary Baba Yaga's lost spell-book to concoct some sort of healing potion that only works on machines and nonliving automata. Then you used that to bring me, your pet automation project, to life?"

"I know, it sounds ridiculous even when you say it." Meth had to agree, it was an unlikely situation but nonetheless, it was the truth.

Amy continued, "And then your coven kicked you out for using forbidden magic?"

"Well, that part's a little fuzzy but you got the gist of it!"

"What if I tell you this tincture will work on others?"

"I just told you Am, it only works on machines!"

*****

As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

Amy rushed to the door and flung it open in her usual pompous manner.

"Stop, that," Meth called but it was too late.

The landlord was down on the ground with a bleeding nose. Amy ran back to the bedroom and fetched the Portia Tincture.

"It doesn't work on..." Meth paused mid sentence, as the girl sprinkled the medicine. The bleeding stopped almost immediately.

"I don't understand. It only works on machines."

Amy turned to look at her. Her periwinkle eyes were shrouded in sadness. Behind her, the landlord stared at them with a blank expression plastered to his face.

"I don't understand," Meth repeated.

"You really forgot didn't you?" Amy took a step forward.

"Remember what?"

"The Automata Incident." the landlord now had a serious look in his eyes, "It was two and half centuries ago. Dr. Amethyst Arbora, Coven head of Ambrosia, first invented the Portia Tincture. She had intended to create a healing potion, a panacea to benefit all of humankind. But the potion mocked her efforts. Contrary to expectations, it brought machines to life. She was a hobby mechanist and several members of her coven sullied her name for it. Rumors spread that the potion worked as designed. They said Dr. Amethyst was in love with her mechanical creations and she had wasted coven grants to fund her hobby."

"What are you saying?" Meth clutched the sides of her head in disbelief.

"The rumors gained traction and a vote of confidence was held. She lost by a slight margin and had to leave Ambrosia."

"Stop, it's not true!"

Amy chipped in, "It was later discovered that one of the other witches had replaced a few ingredients in the coven lab. It was a plot to set her up to fail. Yet Dr. Amethyst had produced an unexpected positive result."

"Stop Amy, please,"

"Her faithful automata found out. They confronted the coven about the betrayal. The witches attacked and destroyed several of them."

"No," Meth kneeled down.

"Dr. Amethyst was a life-force manipulator. When her beloved inventions were sabotaged, the pet projects that she had accidentally brought to life and treated as living creatures, she lost control. Several witches were injured and one sister lost her life..."

"Stop, Am, I'm begging you," Meth was bent over on the ground, forehead touching the floor, hands still buried in the knots of her hair.

"It took us over two centuries to bring you back, Doctor,"

"It's not true," Meth repeated.

"But it is," Amy gently wrapped her arm around the scared woman, "We created this body for you and your sisters worked very hard to gather the essence of your soul."

"Why?" Meth had a farfetched look in her eyes, " I was dead..."

"No one was sure if your living soul would reject a mechanical body, so we decided to let you live your own life until you were ready for the truth."

"Why bring me back?"

"Ambrosia realized their mistake. Your inventions went on to create a space of their own with their valuable insights on bionic limbs and other man-machine interfaces. The Automata are still integrating into society. The world still needs your research," she was at once kind and warm, "We need you, Doctor."

Meth had regained some control, "And this building? Our landlord?"

"All this is part of the setup. To give you a fresh start."

Meth was quiet for a while. The moment passed.

Then she slowly sat up and shrugged as if to throw something off her shoulders.

She had a crooked smirk on her face now, "One full reset of my life and I ended up becoming a car mechanic. Guess witchcraft was never my thing!"