The Witch and the Lich; 'And God Laughed'

Credits; Krell, Rea,
"Hey, where did Kelvin go?"
"No idea, you worried about him Father?"
"Not really, he's a big boy, he can handle himself."
It had happened rather suddenly.  One day they had been sitting their talking about the likelihood that there was any truth to the rumors that the empress's youngest son was cheating on his wife; the next they were debating the power supply needed to let a Tesser coil jump through space, time, or both, except that Kelvin had managed to completely disappear at an uncertain point in between.  It would have been easier to explain if they hadn't changed between the conversations quite spontaneously at roughly midnight. 
Not that Krell minded, sure there was a chance that a vampire ambassador would try to kill him for it, but that would just be inconvenient at this point.  Rea was a rather brilliant conversationalist, even if she did seem somewhat young.  She could name kings and emperors from millenia ago, and if she wasn't just making it up then she certainly knew some rather intimate details of their lives.  And the sort of things she was saying were far to mundane to be made up.  More confusing still was that she could tell him every single order he'd ever given, to whom, and on what frequency.  The Imperial Archive's communications department had sent back a report that the only person who could possibly access records that useless was a semi-mythical moderator named 'the_witch'.  When he'd asked why semi-mythical they'd replied rather simply, "Well we all know the witch exists, and we all know that even our mods are subject to its authority.  It's mostly that we can't actually prove that the witch is a person, a program, has origins, or that it does anything at all.  It never bans anyone, it never talks to anyone, it just seems to pour through the archives and weed out anything it considers inaccurate, back-up data it finds important, and open convenient doors for adventurers allowing them to reach exactly the set of information they need.  The witch is the reason why the archive operates so efficently, but the only trace of it we can find is a locked slot just above the Archive director for 'the_witch'.  We've tried updating the system and it always turns up in the new one when we finish.  We can't figure it out."
Rea had admitted that she had been trained as a witch, and been a card carrying member of the coven, although her membership was now expired.  That alone made no sense, there was no immortal younger than twenty, ever.  The doctor had confirmed it based on a hair of hers he'd found, she was fourteen.  Immortals kept aging even if they never showed it, if she was immortal it would have shown.  Yet somehow she was a graduate of the Arcane Academy and a fully trained Journeyman level witch, and apparently, by her own admission, an assassain to boot.  Even if she could freeze time, and it often seemed like she could, she would have still aged.  It was odd to say the least.  Maybe she was heavily reincarnated, it would be a first but he'd seen several firsts over the course of his life, and a few more since.

"It's really bothering you, isn't it?"
"What?  All this Tesser coil time travel stuff is just silliness.  It would never work anyways."
"It does actually, but that's beside the point.  You're wondering what I am."
"And you shouldn't be able to read my mind, that's how the mindguard works."
"I cracked it ages ago, any Nielda with military service on his record can use it.  It takes some effort, but I can convince my mind that you do in fact exist.  Personal secret, I have no desire to explain how it works."
"That's what bothers me you know.  You're fourteen.  Medcially proven fact, you are fourteen years old exactly, to the second even.  Yet you have a diploma from the Arcane Academy hanging in your room, and its authentic.  You say your witch's membership is expired, when I know full well that it lasts three hundred years.  And then you can tell me what I ordered for lunch at 12:39 AM on Junsrew five hundred years ago.  It's not possible for a mortal to know these things."
She sighed and waved.  Everyone in the lounge began muttering about needing to do something and wandered out.  She sat on the table and took off her elaborate wrappings.  She was fourteen alright, short, flat, and spindly.  There was barely a curve on her body, even her hair was straight.  But more amazing still was that she was alive.  He'd met her on Gasca, where the plague fumes were still heavy enough to infect even those with full protective gear, and she was still perfectly alive. 
"How?"
"I don't age, I don't die, and for all intensive purposes I've lived exactly fourteen years.  I don't scar, I can't add muscle mass, and tattoos don't take.  Physically, I am incapbable of changing.  But I am old, I am powerful, and I am much more of both than any natural being.  Little lichling, I hunt the undying and the power from their demise is unnoticable."  Then she rather suddenly flopped over onto the table and pronounced with the same clear voice, "And I am bored.  Worse still I am lonely." 
She turned her head, and he could have sworn he saw a tear.  "Do you have any idea the sort of nightmare it is to be trapped in the shallow end of puberty for nearly a dozen millenia?  All that fear that you'll neve be as attractive as the other girls dropped on top of the experience born realization that in fact no, you will never be as attractive as the other girls.  The budding interest in guys, coupled with the fact that you will never legally be able to have..you know.  It sucks!"
Krell sat and stared at the oldest teenage girl in the universe, and realized with awe and fear that there was a God, and he was laughing.  The most powerful being in the material plane couldn't legally drive, drink, or vote.