The Journeymen

Alchemy and an Oath

"Wow, just, wow," Anya said, looking at herself in Liza's bathroom mirror in disbelief.

"Wow indeed," Liza agreed, staring at the younger woman's reflection.

Staring back as the midday light illuminated the room was someone that the apprentice Journeyman did not recognize. She looked like a cheap copy of the woman who stood next to her.

The clothes were the most practical she could find, a pair of tight fitting blue jeans that were just a little too short, a blue and green flannel shirt worn over a white tank top, her pistol worn holstered on her hip. She also had an earthy toned green and tan shemagh worn around her neck like a scarf and a pair of seemingly unused high top brown hiking boots. Liza had called the outfit "the high-fashion backpacker."

Her face was coated with makeup, red lipstick, dark eye shadow, and other things she didn't even know the name of. Only aged fifteen at the time of the Separation and being raised by a single father, the soon-to-be undercover operative had very little experience with makeup. The special makeup which Liza had created was applied intentionally overly-heavy to highlight her inexperience and the desperation she wished to exude.

Liza had built her fortune in this new world on her skill with alchemy and her taste in the finer things. When production of manufactured goods shut down after the Separation, the industrious and inconvenienced former college student found that with a hint of magic and some otherwise innocuous ingredients, she could create many of the creature comforts of the old world. Along with health potions, Liza had found there was a market for health and beauty products that she had previously enjoyed so much. The makeup, the soaps and shampoos in her home, the perfume she wore, the hair color changing potion her stylist used on her hair, along with many other luxury items had made her one of the most popular traveling salespersons in the region.

Anya now understood the potency of Liza's magical beauty products as she examined the shocking new appearance of her hair. She told the stylist that she wanted it to look exactly like Liza's and the woman had succeeded for the most part thanks to the color changing potion. Another of Liza's magical creations, it had quickly turned her hair an almost white blonde color. Liza's hair was also a few inches shorter than Anya's had been which was beneficial because the stylist needed to cut off a decent amount just to even out the hair that had been singed off in the fire. What had once brushed her shoulders now hung a fraction of an inch below the level of her chin, the only difference between hers and the successful alchemist's being the barely noticeable unevenness in the back that could not be blended in after being burned off.

Looking in the mirror, Anya touched her face but her hand was knocked down by the woman who now looked almost like her older sister.

"Don't touch it so much, you'll mess things up! That makeup is expensive," she said, chiding the shocked young woman.

Anya brought her hands back up, now touching her hair. She felt like she was checking to see if it was real and attached to her head as she gently picked up small sections.

"It's just so weird. I've never seen myself like this," she whispered in awe.

Liza smirked and put an arm around her, "Well I believe my work here is done. You will no doubt convince him that you are completely under his spell. A girl desperately in love who wouldn't even care if her two masters had been brutally murdered by her boyfriend."

Anya pressed her lips together and looked at her newest ally, eyebrows raised slightly in mock annoyance. "It's all I've ever wanted. To look like an obsessed stalker girlfriend," she deadpanned.

The alchemist threw her head back in laughter before steering the dramatically altered Anya out of her room and into the living room where Jack and Evan waited.