The Veil Maker
I trade in deceptions. I peddle illusions. I sell mirages.
I am the maker of veils.
Elf ears and angel wings – for the right price, I can conceal anything.
And so, quite understandably, when the human barges into my store (not a drop of magick in him) I am – to be completely fucking honest – more than a little thrown off. How did he find me? What does he know? Is this interaction going to end at all profitably for me? “Can I help you with something?” I ask carefully.
He bumps into a jewelry stand with his shoulder – the wood and bone necklaces clatter against each other – and then he fumbles to catch it before it falls over. “You must be Sidra, the witch who’s been helping even demons walk among us. I’d be careful if I were you…someone might report you.”
“And is that why you’re here?” I slip my hand underneath the counter, retrieving an item that I have prepared just for this possibility.
I walk t