ANJANA. ▪️ MARVEL

forma.

I

ISLE OF MAN

1290

      The wind was loud and clear, her skin ached whilst she was soaked in the tree sap that has been thrown on her body. All tied up, she couldn't do anything but watching the assembly who was giving clear signs of her own death approaching dangerously. Genuinely confused, the woman never knew why they'd hate her with so much despair. Poisoned apples, books, Bibles, everything that passed hands to hands, was sent right to her face, or as close as possible for the least. The brunette stared intensively, as all she recognized... Was anger. "As she, the Witch, shall not continue to curse us by her presence, I shall burn her in the name of Christ! As she, the Witch, cannot justify her wrong doings of any kind. The simple act of breathing is an offense to our Lord, God! You, sheep of Jesus, shall not asks for the help of the Witch, as she's strongly bonded with the Devil: Satan!"

        Shouts were heard, and she understood she mightn't wake up from the flames starting to burn from her ankles, to the most feminine parts of her body, until it reached up every hair of her head. Nothing could describe the pain she felt, as the woman cried out for pity, the fire embraced her being whilst she hated every single person present and facing her. Shameless,

smiling.

"May the Witch, never rise again from Hell."

2024.

"A witch? Like, the ones that casts spell and do potions? The ones who were burnt on trials" As she looked up toward the man, she was staring at, Davina brushed back her hair whilst adjusting her jacket possessively keeping her shoulders warm. The winter was coming over in one month, and the last days of fall were the coldest. The windows of the desk were wide open, and the pouring rain didn't help to keep them on a good temperature. The man was wearing a tuxedo, something too fancy for her eyes. Nonetheless, she appreciated the gesture he showed: respectful, he hasn't tried even once to know how she was still among the livings.

— I burned the Priest.

NEW YORK

2024

   BUCKY BUCHANAN BARNES was not someone who could be considered as "faithful". His mother was a strong catholic, his father was a military who has been enrolled in the First World War, whilst he has been himself in the second one. No, Bucky wasn't one of those people who'd rely on God for each problem he was facing: he was used to deal with his own issues by his means. Which were shorter than expected. Still, he would give little-to-no care about that. Bucky wasn't the kind of man who believed in witches, sorceress, and aliens, until he had met a few during the Infinity War. The Winter Soldier, as he hated being nicknamed as such, was in no mean to deny the existence of superior beings. This morning was no exception. He drank his dark coffee with one sugar, ate an apple with two pancakes surrounded by one tablespoon of peanut butter and walked to the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarter. Today, was a special day.
"I wouldn't dare being irrespectful." he laughed. "Who is she? A witch of East End?"

    DOCTOR STEVEN STRANGE sighed, the least to say was that he wasn't quite... Happy to be here. Bucky wasn't the issue, but the Witch present in the other room... Was the subject of the preoccupation running on his mind. The Sorcerer never thought he'd organized something like this, but the day he has been called... Was one of those he'll forever remember. "From East End, I highly doubt... But a Witch, yes.""have no idea why you're on the edge, man. We're good: if it's like Wanda, I can handle it. I saw what she was capable of when we fought Stark."

The thought, yet, simple, of Stark, gave a slight pinch to Strange's heart. Bucky turned back, as he heard footsteps getting closer. No, no stress was coming across the White Wolf's mind.

"You're audacious."

The brown haired woman walked toward him, as she lifted her head up. Her traits were thin, but the stare she gave him, was even thinner. As a knife. The coldness of her blue eyes, made Bucky shiver whilst Steven has put himself between them.

"Miss Van Der Ouklet, would you take place in your seat? You shouldn't keep standing up like that, these last days were tiring enough for your health, if I'm not wrong. Am I?" had continued Strange. "You're not, Sorcerer. You're not."

Walking, Davina Van Der Ouklet sat on the couch, close to the big windows. November was a month she'd definitely never learn to appreciate. Bucky either. His metal arm was even colder than ice, and days passing wouldn't give it a chance to get better. New York prepared itself to celebrate Christmas under...Rather bizarre circumstances. Nonetheless, none of them would mind. Calm was peace, and peace would mean no death or wounds.

"Let's talk, shall we? Steven, you discussed with me about the White Wolf, and all I can see for now, is his audacity. Is this all he's capable of? Audacity and no acts? I shall not trust such men, as I already did these past years."

"Which period does she come from, the Middle Age?" he thought. 

"You "shall" learn that, in our world, it's kill or being killed, Bucky said. We tend to think before acting up, in comparison of you, witches." explained James. "I need to fix this. Quick. And I need someone competent enough to help me."

Barnes stared at Steven.

"Aren't you... The most qualified for this? I don't have a degree in witchcraft or magic, man. I'm a one-hundred-year old man who fought for the Soviets. I'm not part of this."

Steven nodded. Yes, he was capable. However, working with her was way too meaningful for him. The Universe wouldn't forgive him, and the man knew it. Sorcerer and Witches couldn't work together peacefully over time. Alike the Amazons, they'd choose a man to trust and would stick up to him until they wouldn't find any use of him anymore. Sharper than a sword itself, Davina gazed at him as she expected Strange to give explanation to the Barnes. Technically, he was the best choice... Still...

"We can't work together."

"Why that?"

And, Steven knew: it was going to be a very long day...

...

"So, if someone has to get killed, it's me? Because I'm a better sacrifice?" 

"More or less, yes."

"Your lack of tact is truly legendary."

"As it should be." he whispered.

Standing up once more, Davina laughed loudly. Barnes was a rather strange creature. Once, he was doing sarcasm, the second after, he feared for his life more than children facing wolves. The drop of sweat running down his forehead, gave her a small hint of the stress level he had at this right moment. Men were pitiful, and she couldn't take more fun than knowing they'd fear her in the future. The Witch of Peridot was peaceful: her calm heart never skipped a beat, because none was present. The brunette bent her body as she faced Barnes again his face kept stoic while he continued maintaining his gaze on her sharp blue pupils.

"What?"

"I decided to break the wheel."

" The wheel? Of your magic carriage?"

"The tradition of killing the helper. Idiot." Not reacting to her insult, Bucky chuckled as he smirked right after. "What guarantee I have you're telling the truth"

"Witches never lie, explained Strange. Witches never lie, but always keep their commitments up until they achieved them."

Bucky kept his smirk on his lips.

"Why the Witch wants a team up?"