Finding Home Amongst the Infinite - DontDoHeroinKids (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

“Ahem.”

The sound of a throat cleared roughly in agitation cut through the hustle and bustle of the midmorning market, making the prospective customer cringe beneath the weight of the merchant’s unimpressed stare as she rooted through numerous pockets.

Come on, where did I stash my zinos!? Are these – no, that’s the bag of royals I picked up at that bizarre fairytale country…

Not for the first time did she curse her own shoddy packing procedures.

Not that pocket, or that bag, it must be – there they are!

The girl bounced back up from her sagging pack, a fistful of pressed golden coins held before her stiffly with a forced smile.

“Ha, sorry about that, I was in a rush this morning and I had to make sure I had everything ready to go, and you – you know how it is, right? Heh heh…”

The baker’s stare remained bemused, even as he wordlessly scraped the money from her palm and shoved the proffered bundle of gently steaming pastries forwards across the aged counter.

The fresh provisions were eagerly scooped off the table, embarrassment forgotten at the promise of sustenance as the sheepish customer made to leave, throwing out a cheery “Thank you!” while she moved away.

The meat bun warmed her fingertips against the frosty air of early spring, wisps of vapor flowing skyward as she took a generous bite of her snack. A little moan escaped at the explosion of flavor, the perfectly heated meal tearing apart with delectable ease as the traveler wove through the crowded marketplace.

She loved little hubs like this – slices of the local cultures, condensed into an energetic and easygoing sprawl of stands displaying all manner of goods. The center of commerce stood free of the dominant shadows from the countless skyscraping towers, an uneven breakaway where structures stayed closer to ground level amongst the titans of the world’s greatest metropolis. The flow of fresh air that sprung free from the monolithic buildings brought with it the scents and sounds of earnest, hardworking people hawking numerous enticing foodstuffs, and if she weren’t so busy it would be the perfect place to while away the day.

The traveler mentally combed over her equipment satchel as she chewed through her midday meal at an efficient pace, ducking past all sorts of milling folk in the square. Her impromptu scavenger hunt for her supply of the local currency had let her check that everything was in its proper place for her departure, in spite of her own shortcomings with storage and item management.

The flow of urban citizens tapered out into a more balanced trickle as her feet took her away from the bustling bazaar, and back into the sprawl of the city. Enormous towers of worn sandstone rose up around her like a swelling wave, growing taller and taller as she moved further from the district market and towards more… convenient spaces.

She had finished her meal on the go by the time a proper opportunity presented itself. The wanderer tossed the greasy cheesecloth from her meal into a public bin, even as she surreptitiously scanned the environment to see if she was actually entering a more secluded block. The ever-present tide of traveling citizenry had thinned once again, leaving breaks and holes in the city’s thoroughfares – just what was needed.

As any prying eyes wandered in separate directions, she ducked into a nearby alleyway, splitting off into winding corridors that pointed towards the dense ground-level interior of an inhabited skyscraper cluster. The back roads were darker and less well-kept, with a poor tendency towards retaining the seedier elements of the population dependent upon which district one found themselves in. Luckily, the stretch of walkways she hiked were simply cold and shaded, without an overwhelming criminal presence for this city segment.

She came to a stop in a recessed alcove, swinging her formidable pack off one shoulder and down to ground level for a final inspection. Tugging on straps, flipping buckles, counting out supplies – there was no way to tell when she would be able to return to the expansive mega-city in the future, just like every other alien place she visited, so packing light and mobile was always a necessity. Her bo staff clacked heartily against the dirty concrete as that, too, received a quick critical eye alongside the remainder of her gear.

Well, everything seemed in order… ‘no time like the present,’ as they liked to say.

It was a shame – she was really starting to like Ravnica. But the city wasn’t where she was meant to be.

Securing her pack once more, staff strapped firmly to its side, the traveler took a deep breath, senses reaching out as the primordial currents of aether stirred around her. The invisible reflex, so much like a mental muscle, flexed under her concentration as she took slow, deliberate steps forward.

One, two, three – and then she was fading up and away, pressing against unknowable depths of the space between worlds that peeled apart before her focused will. The veil between worlds tore apart smoothly beneath and above and through the traveler as she departed the plane of reality she had once occupied.

The nameless, mindless pressure of the Blind Eternities ebbed and flowed around her, tugging mercilessly against her corporeal form even as she pushed on and through the metaphysical currents. There was no set path she took between the folds of space and time, only a singular goal in mind that led her cutting through cresting waves of nonexistence.

Home. Home. My home, and family, and world – I need to go home.

After what seemed an eternity condensed into a stretch of minutes, she felt the anticipated resistance as her soul reached out for the world that birthed her. The age-old ember of weary anger swelled in her breast as the invisible weight of some eldritch influence pressed her down and away from her ultimate goal, just as it had last time, and the time before that. It was like fighting a hurricane with your eyes closed, and your senses dulled, struggling against gale force winds that sought to tear you away from the embrace of the earth and hurl you into the uncaring sky.

But the traveler had felt this thing’s grasp time and time again, and she had come prepared this time.

“When you’re trying to call something up like this, it’s easiest if you get angry. Think about how you’ve been wronged by this thing, how it represents everything used to keep you down.”

The older teen spoke with the ease of garnered experience, stretching his lanky limbs as he prepared a demonstration for his enraptured younger charge.

“You can power it up even better if you twist some green and red mana together for it. Spells that use up more energy like that are harder to control and gather up, but they hit twice as hard.”

His wrist flicked out in a harsh gesture at the cracked pillar before them, condensed mana spilling from his fingers like a whip as it shattered the column’s core.

“Ha ha! See how easy it is break down a bastard’s temples when you put your mind to it? You can even do this kind of thing with magical stuff, like enchanted armor.”

The flaring anger that burned in the wanderer’s chest was the fuel for her success. She stoked it, her mind furiously grinding through the long nights of isolation and prickling fear as she stumbled across unfamiliar lands, one after the other. How she yearned to feel her mother’s fingers card through her curling hair once more, hear the love in her voice as she bustles around the house, a wafting scent of roasting meals creeping across the kitchen.

Tendrils of crimson and emerald swelled up from the abyss, wrapping around her limbs like living armor as her frustration and determination tugged at her connections to soaring mountains and verdant forests once visited. She kept pulling on her bonds to those lands, forcing more and more magic into the spell eclipsing her form. She was unharmed by the crackling corona, but the volatile energy was tearing away at the crushing pressure trying to shunt her away from her beloved homeland, ripping through its influence like a blade.

Had she not felt the ripping force that kept her from returning from whence she came so many times, it might have swept her away once more, spitting her out on another strange world with exotic lands and peoples. But the weeks turned into months and years of experience had molded her against its reach – and now, with her furious spellcraft splitting its blind malice, she was growing ever closer than before.

Hope soared through her, a grin sprouting against her will on her lips – she was doing it. She was really, finally going to go -!

The fleeting moment of elation was dashed by the doubling of the current’s strength, pushing panic into her mind as the alien force fought to snuff out her burning enchantment. No, no no no, she was so close –

In a moment of stricken weakness, she poured herself into the failing enchantment. It buckled and flared under the force of her desperation, blasting out into the darkness and pushing it back for one glorious moment, and she could feel it – the layers of resistance peeling away, her traveling body pushing past this first shell into another spread of the tidal wave, the soul-lights of a living world spreading across her view –

And then, without warning, the traveler was given a final titanic push out and away by her nemesis, crying into the abyss as she was pressed back into the reaches of normal space and time once more.

There was a moment of nauseous vertigo as she was shunted back into realspace in midair, terror filling her as she plummeted to the earth - blessedly a few meters below. She slammed into the soil with a graceless thump, air driven from her lungs as once-secure items were sent rolling and bouncing away by the collision.

It took a moment for her to recover, wheezing weakly as she clutched her sore ribs in one hand. That wasn’t the first time she’d landed on a new world like that – literally – but it wasn’t anymore pleasant. And worst of all, the taste in the air, the soaring evening of summertime skies above – this place wasn’t home.

She tried to fight back the tears springing to her eyes as she gathered up her scattered pack, a growing sob of despair held back by force of will as she despondently crammed her survival equipment back into its proper place.

It just – it wasn’t fair. She was so close she could taste it, but… it didn’t matter.

Still adrift. Still trapped beyond the reach of her only loved ones.

The sob slipped out before she could catch it, and that really set her off.

“Dios maldita sea todo! I w-was so close that time!”

The traveler dropped to the ground with a harsh thump, crushing her backpack against her chest as she muffled her cries amongst the foreboding, otherworldly forest that surrounded the clearing.

Some time passed before she could stifle her tears, sniffling aggressively as the despair was pressed back down into the darkest corners of her mind with a flare of raging determination. It was just one setback on a whole heap of others, that was nothing new. It was time to get ahold of herself and move forward.

Just like every time before – and every time that was sure to follow.

Her self-pity party had lasted long enough to see the local sun cross the sky from its zenith, and begin dipping towards the horizon beyond the silhouette of a sprawling forest. Soft evening light streamed down through swirling, gnarled woods as she tromped out and away from her landing site, blindly following the faint echoes of lapping tides and squalling birds in the purpling dusk.

When the stretching limbs of the ancient trees broke before her, it was to reveal a short stretch of lush soil that ended abruptly at a rocky outcropping, the slapping of waves well beneath her vantage point. Sea birds whirled overhead, cawing loudly in their flocks as they swooped over the ledge in search of sustenance.

She couldn’t help the budding sense of wonder flowing through her as the cliffside dipped low at her approach. Some things never changed, and the gorgeous expanses of wildly varying worlds always left her aglow at the majesty of it all.

And as she clambered onto a spiking stretch of boulder, her gasp caught in her throat at the magnificent view below.

Luz Noceda had found her sight set upon the arcane expanse of the fabled Boiling Isles.

It wasn’t a skywards mountaintop jutting up below and around her – she was perched upon a gigantic, calcified leg bone.

Miles ahead of her sat the arches of a fallen giant, so grand in scale it boggled her mind. Fleshless ribs clawed at the distant sky, reaching like broken teeth at heights rivalling the mammoth skyscrapers of the planetwide city dominating the far-flung world of Ravnica. The limbs of the felled titan sprouted from the tempestuous seas, verdant autumnal colors swelling in uneven clumps of growth as nature sought to reclaim the ancient remains of a once great beast. A monolithic skull – almost so large and distant that it fought the curve of the horizon from her perspective – leered out emptily at its own frozen form.

Not only was the natural world sprouting like weeds from its tremendous carcass – but cities, as well. Luz could spot the telltale mixture of wood and stonework comprising artificial construction in varied locales, their uneven structures a poor competition for the scale of their surroundings.

That feeling of burning curiosity completely overshadowed the remnants of her frustration. This world was – was like nothing she had ever seen before.

The exotic floating islands and gravity-defying mounds of handcrafted hedrons that stretched across the jungles of Zendikar had been her first experience with alien planes, so far from home. But even the unknowable, arcane landmarks of a fierce deathworld were incomparable to what she was seeing now.

She fell backwards onto her rump in shock, mouth hanging open as she reveled in the spectacle of this strange new land. The endless expanses of the sapphire seas stretched out and away from the titanic skeleton, lapping at the bones with insistent waves and whorls.

It took only a moment of deliberation before her shaking hands reached into her pack.

Once upon a time, a young girl had dreamt of awing the world with her lovingly made artistry. The sketches and likenesses of a thousand mundane objects brought to life by her will, a skill she always wielded proudly for her beloved mami.

Now her books were filled with fantastical drawings that even Luz could never have conjured up as a child. Foreign landscapes and alien peoples crowded her sketches as she sought to record every step of the way home, the roughly bound notebook preserved against the ravages of a planeswalker’s lifestyle by thorough enchantment work.

It was hard to cram the true awe-inspiring scale of the vanquished titan into a single yellowed page, but Luz was never one to back down from an artistic challenge. She fought against the fading light of day to capture as much detail as possible, and when the cusp of her viable time for lighting began slipping away, she tossed a glowing orb of ethereal fire into the air with a moment’s thought. Even then, the sun had crawled too far beyond the end of the world for her to meaningfully continue, though she remained satisfied with what she had managed to encapsulate thus far.

By the time the day had fully passed, Luz was setting up a temporary camp beneath a breathtaking spillage of stars. Distant galaxies and nebulae twinkled in the nighttime skyline, a canvas of starlight aiding her efforts to establish a solid little campfire to bed beside for the evening. She spent the time between flipping the sizzling portions of her provisions staring up at the atmosphere with wonder, the beauty of the summer night enrapturing her mind.

The worlds she had seen, the planes she’d had to flee from – they hadn’t been like this. Nightmares still nipped at her heels of her panicked flight from Innistrad, the malicious swamps of that shadowed world hunting her unprepared form while abominations stalked the eternal gloom. But this place, it was… something else. Something really amazing, even for all the dangers she assumed would inhabit the framework of the fallen giant.

A quick jab of her boot sent green mana flowing into the soil, sundering the packed dirt into something softer for her sleeping bag to lay atop for her rest. A few quick gestures had some light wards erected around the camp perimeter to warn her of approaching individuals, while a bit of more mundane fire management saw that her roasting pit would keep her warm for some time.

Luz Noceda spent her first night on the Boiling Isles curled up within her sleeping bag, gazing with unbridled interest into unfamiliar constellations before sleep finally claimed her.

She would begin her descent towards civilization – and answers – the following day.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Compared to the market Luz had purchased breakfast from the day before, the bazaar of this strange town she found herself in was… something else.

Ravnica’s people mirrored their environment in certain ways, being generally organized and conscientious of their occupation amongst the orderly rows of skyscrapers that composed their planetwide metropolis. There were always outliers - both in structures and persons, like the roaming Gruul clans - but nothing felt overly jarring or out of place.

If Luz had to describe the works of the civil planner who had laid out the streets and market before her, she probably would have used words along the lines of “criminally insane” or “really unfit for this job.”

The roadways of Bonesborough were total chaos, through and through. Buildings of varying heights and make sprouted from the streets as organically as the gigantic bones that appeared sporadically throughout the city limits. It all came across as very precariously stacked in growing layers, with its people worming their way through every winding thoroughfare.

And the people – Luz had never seen so much variation in one place, before. Ravnica was filled with every sort imaginable, from humanoids to animalistic beast races, but Bonesborough was bursting with diversity. Almost no two individuals looked quite the same, running the gamut from fairly human-esque to enormous, lumbering behemoths with alien features.

It was a crazed mess, and she was loving exploring it.

Her recent failure to press on through that damnable barrier between herself and Earth still stung harshly, but the dull edge of defeat was pressed out of Luz’s mind by everything she was seeing and learning. The scope of a new world was always staggering for the young planeswalker, and if she were honest with herself, it was a tad intimidating.

Each plane she visited had potentially eons of history and culture to parse through – the lives of literally uncountable masses, spread throughout the multiverse with little to no knowledge of one another. It was mind boggling – but so, so interesting.

Of course, there were always downsides with this sort of thing. Cultural differences were rife when you could be anywhere in reality, at any time, amongst any imaginable kind of people. Some civilizations were so alien and incompatible with Luz’s worldviews that her only real option was avoidance for her own safety.

And then there were more mundane problems, like not having any money when you were starving from a long hike down a mountainside formed from a gigantic leg bone.

Luz could only give a put-upon sigh as her stomach rumbled for the umpteenth time, eyes roaming from beneath her violet cloak in search of something akin to a pawn shop. The nonsensical sprawl of colorful stands and tents flashed by, advertising all manner of worldly goods, but she needed a proper trader to haggle with. Her money may be unusable around here, but gold was gold, and sometimes the allure of rare foreign currency and goods was enough to keep her afloat financially, at least until something more stable reared its head.

That was the worst part about her ability to walk between worlds – just like back home, you need a decent job to pay the bills if you’re going globetrotting.

Her twirled braid of hair was absentmindedly jammed back within her cloak hood as she trundled along, taking in the sights and hoping for a break in her cosmically poor luck. If pressed on the issue, Luz might admit that her efforts to pack lightly were partially on account of how misfortune dogged her heels seemingly everywhere.

There wasn’t a lot of point in collecting heartfelt mementos when you had nowhere to hold them, when you stood to potentially lose your precious belongings in a heartbeat to flight.

In spite of the dull pang of hunger tugging at her gut and the dark cloud over her soul, Luz was determined to make the best of her situation. Every defeat on the path home was a crushing blow to her hopes and confidence but it was not a new sensation. She had felt the well of grasping despair claw up her throat countless times, her every struggle through that unknowable obstacle sending her careening away to new and unfamiliar places.

However, to say that the journey was completely undesirable would be a falsehood. Even in the wake of heartbreak and homelessness, Luz’s travels had taken her far and wide to some of the most astounding sights she had ever encountered. Self-reliance and technical competence were imperative to travelling across dangerous planes, and it was little time at all before the harsh realities of a lonely existence far out of her comfort zone had pushed Luz into an environment in which she had learned to thrive.

She still recalled those first nights after her guttering spark flung her far from Earth into the wider expanse of worlds. The sweltering, hungry days ducking along cliffsides and through patches of inhospitable jungle, only to stumble blindly into an alien encampment and collapse at the shocked feet of what would become her first true friends.

The nomadic Kor of Zendikar were as fae and exotic as a younger Luz would have anticipated from her hours of browsing beloved selections of fantasy. Whip-lean and stark white, moving like predators through the undergrowth and deftly across mountain passes with milky eyes and slender pointed ears.

They had pitied the lost human youngling, striving to teach her the skills necessary to survive their unforgiving world even as they listened to and accepted, uncomprehendingly, the outlandish tales babbled at them about an alien world of grand cities and all-encompassing civilization. It was in the crucible of the jungles that Luz spent weeks, and then months, learning how to survive in the wilds – and beyond that, how to harness the call of the invisible swells that swirled around every facet of the living, breathing world: an undercurrent of untamed magics.

She had never felt a plane pluck so strongly at her senses since Zendikar, roaring rivers and soaring skyways and mobile landscapes so vibrantly alive in a way indescribable to those who had never experienced it through the eyes of a mage. The Kor had come the closest, even their magicless brethren able to follow the ebb and flow of such a lively world. Yet here, on this string of islands formed from the desiccated corpse of a god long passed, Luz was reminded of the terrifying pull of the Roil as it infused the eldritch tides of Zendikar’s mana flues.

The crackling hum of harnessed magic echoed through nearly every object and being that she passed in the streets, wafting harmlessly into the air like heat from the very ground. The colors Luz had come to associate with various forms of mana were muted, a diffusion of endless layers of enchantment and paracausal forces at work stripping away identity and intent, leaving behind only the morass of mastered potential within the town’s construction.

In a way, it comforted her. Breathing in the magically infused breeze, the wispy tendrils of formless blue mana drifting in on the wind from the island itself, Luz’s mind felt sharpened by her immersion in such an arcane place. A world so steeped in magic always held significant promise for greater power and lessons, both of which could be bent towards her ultimate goal of returning to Earth once more.

With such a high concentration of natural blue magicka, it would be a good place to sharpen her skills in that particular field as well. The straightforward strengths of red and green manas had always called the strongest to her passionate soul, but any mage worth their salt would strive to connect with as much magic as was feasible.

…And then she’d have to work on being able to cast a single white spell beyond making basic orbs of light, and black mana – the thought had her shuddering.

Projects for another day.

Her slow meandering had brought her to a break in the expansive marketplace, the center of the crowded pathway dominated by a large tent reminiscent of a major circus attraction, colorful people and stands ringing it in a rowdy enclosure. Luz’s eyes skittered across the varied shop signs, following her instincts for sniffing out points of interest as she gave the square a considering walkaround. The voices of the swelling crowd blended into a wave of noise, washing over her like the passing crests of natural mana in the air, suffusing her senses and seeking to overwhelm her –

“Fresh curios and wonders, people, straight from another world entirely!”

The shrill tone of one crier caught her ear, pushing through the throng of other shouts and murmuring conversation. Luz homed in on the scratchy tone, flowing through the stream of eager customers to seek out the screaming saleswoman.

“Step right up, yes you – right there! I know you’re looking for the kind of quality goods I’m giving away!”

When Luz reached the stall from which the cries originated, her eyes widened as she stumbled straight into what seemed a ghost.

The woman was striking in appearance, a sleeveless crimson dress her primary garb that draped over milk white flesh. Knife-like ears sprouted from an untamable mane of silvery hair, leaving the edges of her appearance jagged and wild, accompanied by the golden fang drooping over her lip and bright golden eyes. A bizarre coincidence, that Luz’s mind had wandered to her friends amongst the pale nomadic clans of Zendikar just to run right into their otherworldly doppelganger.

What really sent her gut into a messy flip, however, was the hawker’s table spread, bursting from within her overcrowded tent.

The wares were little more than discarded junk – but they were items Luz recognized. Battered and cracked electronics, rusting utensils and power tools, fragments of miscellaneous objects likely tossed in the garbage with nary a thought – from Earth.

Luz had never encountered another world that reached the heights of technological prowess she had known as common back home. With such relatively abundant access to magics, and the influence of powerful supernatural beings, most planes struggled to approach an industrial age like that which had once ravaged the cities and plains of Earth, paving the way for the advanced world she once knew. It was astoundingly unlikely that such detritus could have come from anywhere else.

She stumbled towards the table in a daze, her approach unseen by the saleswoman as she heckled other passing visitors for their patronage. It seemed that despite the otherworldly nature of the goods she sold, owning useless old garbage from the ‘human realm’ as it was touted (Earth! Her home, the first sign she’d found in years) simply fell outside of their interests. Her heart was in her throat as Luz stepped up to the rickety stall, finally catching the attention of the woman who reminded her of the closest thing she’d ever found to home amongst the stars.

“Hey there, kid!” The strange woman gave her an exaggerated grin bordering on sleazy, draping herself over the rough tablecloth as she took in Luz’s appearance. “Looking to buy some amazing wares from a different dimension? I’ve got plenty of choices for an enterprising young witch like yourself.”

The linguistic oddity struck at Luz’s perception, but she was still too shellshocked by the encounter to fully process the saleswoman’s words.

“I, uh, actually I – was wondering where you found all of this, um, stuff. I – I recognize some of it but it’s been a… a long time.”

She tried to hide her cringe at her own cracking tone, but the awkward flinch as her voice snapped from rising anxiety was clearly visible. The stall owner reared back slightly, the intensity of her grin dimming a bit as she swept a critical gaze over Luz’s becloaked form.

“Sorry girly,” She drawled slowly, her expression growing more guarded, “But that’s a trade secret. What’s it matter to you, anyway? Think I stole it off some other shlub?”

Luz’s panic swelled as she quickly swiped her hands through the air apologetically, trying to stammer out a reassuring response.

“Ha ha, sorry. I meant that I – I’ve seen your kind of… treasures around, you know? That other people bought before? And I was just curious how somebody found so much ju- err, salvage from the – ‘human realm.’”

Her heart sank low as the woman pulled back, now in offense as opposed to suspicion, the fake grin giving way to an aggravated grimace at Luz’s insincere blather.

“Nope. Can’t help you there.” The response was curt, bordering on impolite as the woman stared down her narrow nose at the deflating teenager. “Now, if there wasn’t anything else, I’ve got plenty of other folk to wrangle in for a sale.”

Her frustration was welling up again, the coals of her desperate rage the previous day barely turned over before being fanned back to life by this stubborn old woman. Luz’s jaw tightened against her will, even as she lowered her gaze from the intense scrutiny of the bristling merchant.

“I just – okay, fine. Do you do trades?” She tried not to let any irritation seep into her voice.

“Depends.” Came the wary response. “What are you looking for on the table, and whaddya got on you?”

“Not the junk. For money.”

The stall owner seemed simultaneously intrigued at the offer, and bemused at her attempt to pawn something off on a working salesperson.

The young planeswalker’s hands deftly freed her coin satchel from its home at her hip, flipping the squared-off pouch open as she plunked the jingling purse down onto the counter.

“Gold coins from overseas – they’re an old family heirloom.” The well-worn lie spilled from her lips easily, the familiarity of the fib helping to ground her nerves. “I don’t know how much gold is actually in them, but I need the money and they’re pretty rare around here.”

The woman’s slim eyebrows rose towards her hairline as she took in the clinking sack of pieces before her.

“Foreign gold, huh? Don’t think I’ve ever seen that kind of stuff around here…” A slim hand darted into the bag, fishing a single coin minted in a distant land from the pile. As Luz expected, the merchant bit firmly onto the disc, testing its durability – but the flicker of a spell cast with a wave of her fingers was a surprise. A quick turn of the wrist, and a glowing ring leapt from her pale hand towards the coin, passing through it harmlessly and eliciting a quiet grunt of surprise from the woman.

“Hrmm…” A considering hum purred from her throat. Luz held her breath, hoping that she’d receive an easy path to obtaining some actually viable currency for these strange isles. “Alrighty kid, here’s what I’m willing to do. This stuff could be pricey, could be total bunk. It’s a risk taking it off you without a buyer lined up but I’ll cut you a deal. No way to tell how much is real gold, or what it can get you, but they seem pretty close to snails – so, I’ll give a coin for a coin, as many as you wanna dump on me. Within reason.”

That was… both more and less than Luz had been hoping for. Some merchants on other planes leapt at the opportunity for rare and collectible coinage, while others made use of the precious metal for varying alchemical and magical reasons. But considering the rocky start to their conversation, and the likelihood she would receive a similar exchange rate from more specialized merchants with no demand…

“I’m willing to take that deal.” Luz scooped the satchel off the table, a hesitant smile breaking through her prior gloom. “How does, eh… two-hundred coins sound? Would that keep me fed for a while?”

The bright-eyed merchant gave her an odd, considering look and it occurred to Luz a moment later that she should realistically have a better grasp on local economics than that, considering her intended impression of a townsperson looking to turn over some old family relics. She cursed herself internally at the amateurish mistake, but carefully maintained her guileless expression before the stall owner decided to drop her for being so damnably suspicious.

“Yeah.” The woman’s unnerving gaze never left her face, and she could feel beads of sweat crawl down her back at the scrutiny. “Yeah, you’ll be set for a while with that much if you don’t play it fast and easy on the meals.”

She stepped back from the counter, keeping Luz in her sightline a moment longer.

“Lemme go grab the cash from the back, and we’ll seal this little exchange up.”

“Sounds good!” Why did she follow that statement with two thumbs up? This lady was going to call the guards on her any moment, probably for thinking she was deranged. “I’ll… be right here!”

The woman swept back into the tent after another tense moment, leaving Luz to wheeze out a sigh of relief at the pause in their awkward interaction. However, with the owner out of sight for the moment, she couldn’t help dragging her attention back towards the original items of interest.

The goods for sale at this stall looked freshly unearthed from a crowded landfill. Stained with rust and salt, cracked and dented in awkward places, the glass and metal of electronics marred by the passage of time. Most looked well and truly defunct, but their very presence had Luz’s pulse picking up.

How, in the entire expanse of the multiverse, had all of these items come to rest on this table? They were scrap, salvaged from dumping grounds, but very far from home. If this woman was selling this stuff in such large amounts, and regularly, then that meant consistent access to Earth through some unknown means. But was it sourced from this plane, so steeped in magic? Or was there some truth clinging to ancient human myths regarding magic and how to make use of it, back home?

Her very existence proved that they weren’t so cut off from the rest of reality as the encompassing barrier preventing her return would suggest. There had been almost no concrete evidence for magic, before her soul had ignited with eldritch energies and sent her hurtling into the unknown.

It was maddening, trying to figure it all out. Luz couldn’t help herself, picking through the trash before her to see if there were any items truly worth preserving while her thoughts raced back and forth. One device stood apart from the junk – a worn plastic calculator, so similar to the cheap one she had once owned for math courses as a child. The casing was faded and the display scratched, but nothing was missing or shattered – just unpowered.

To her surprise (and mild concern), Luz fished a pair of serviceable batteries of the appropriate type from a shallow bowl labelled ‘Human Candy?’ A quick shake determined that they held some charge still, and it took but a moment to pop them into the battered handheld casing. The first press of the power button yielded no response, but a firm slap or two against the palm of her hand saw some success as the device flickered to life.

It was a stupid little thing, but – it made Luz crack another smile. Something from home that wasn’t dead and gone was a treasured rarity. Maybe the merchant would still let her buy it after they finished their business…?

“Alright, I’ve got the cash and – hands off the merchandise!”

The growling merchant swiped the handheld computer from her grasp, giving Luz a fierce glare as the girl tripped out a pathetic excuse once again.

“Sorry, sorry, I just wanted to – fix it up! See if it’ll turn back on and work, you know? I – I’m not a thief, I wasn’t gonna steal anything -”

The woman registered her apology with a blink, glancing down at her prize clutched in hand.

“Get it working? You mean this little doo-dad is supposed to do something for you?”

Luz flashed her a trembling grin, gingerly taking the device back from the unresisting saleslady.

“It’s a calculator. See the little keys here? When you power it up, you can do some basic math with it. Normally kids use it, but it’s good for quick addition on the go.”

She tapped out a simple equation, acutely aware of the glowing eyes tracking her every move as the decrepit electronic coughed up an answer on screen.

“Nice and easy, see?” She made sure to inject some good-natured cheer into her voice, if only to keep herself from getting scalped for perceived theft.

“Huh. Wouldja look at that.” The calculating gaze was back in the merchant’s eye as she gave a silent squint towards Luz, gently taking the calculator back before seeming to arrive at a decision. “I think we got off on the wrong foot there, kiddo.”

A pale hand shot out, open and waiting for a greeting.

“They call me Eda the Owl Lady around here. I run this stand outta the bazaar on off-days, but my big moneymaker is the potions I sell back home.”

This was a surprising turn of events, though Luz certainly appreciated the white flag being offered. Her tanned hand slotted firmly into Eda’s grip, pumping up and down a single time.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Eda. I’m Luz Noceda, new to town.”

A sardonic snort followed her words.

“You don’t say. Well, I did promise you some shiny new bits for your old ones, so let’s get that cash counted out for you.”

The enigmatic merchant circled the table once more, leaving Luz to thumb out the proper quantity of dulled currency at her leisure. Eda watched her count in silence for a few moments, before startling Luz with her inquisitive tone.

“Planning on staying at one of the inns around here? I suggest you avoid the ones right off this block – a lot of ‘em have some nasty beds, and nastier clientele to boot.”

Luz palmed the back of her neck nervously, giving a short laugh even as she continued stacking coins out on the countertop.

“Ah, no, I was just going to – camp nearby. Out in the, uh, woods.”

“In the woods.” There was that judgmental, thoughtful lilt to Eda’s voice once more. “With everything out there that likes to prey on sleepy little witches. In the dark, and away from the guards.”

“Yup. That’s… that’s the one.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Another beat of awkward silence.

“No family to stay with around here?” That question struck as a tad more pointed.

“My mom is… really far out of the way right now. A good few towns over, so it’s – just me.”

“Hmm.” Eda was determined to make her sweat out every question during this exchange, it seemed.

Finally, the agonizing void of small talk was shattered by Luz triumphantly slapping her stacks of pressed coins onto the table.

“There we go. Two-hundred dollars as agreed upon. Snails, please.” A winning smile was important when doing business, she had once been told.

Her eagerness earned her a snort of amusem*nt this time, a wistful little smile twisting Eda the Owl Lady’s lips as she accepted the orderly columns of coin, handing off a rough sack that clanked lightly with her movements.

“Seems like you’re set. Some spending money can go a long way.” The mirth gave way for a concerned frown, the singular fang worrying at her lip as she watched Luz stoop down to deposit her earnings more safely within her pack.

“Thanks, Miss Eda. I didn’t have too much in the way of supplies or cash before, so this’ll help a lot.” Luz beamed at the woman, taking in her furrowed brow as she hoisted the satchel back over one shoulder. She was already scheming how to put this goodwill towards getting some answers about the woman’s wares in the near future. “Well, I better get going – I’m kinda starving and I was hoping to snag something tasty from a stall. Maybe I’ll see you later?”

“…Sure girly. I’ll see you around. Be safe, you hear?”

The merchant received a firm nod in response as Luz turned to leave, adjusting the straps of her equipment one last time as it settled over her indigo travelling cloak. She hadn’t caught notice of any pickpockets, but it was important to double check her belongings.

A short gust of a frustrated sigh sounded from behind as Eda grabbed her shoulder, halting her bag check.

“Wait a sec, kid.”

Luz turned in surprise to behold the older woman pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, a defeated growl bursting out as she was given a serious look.

“Curse my bleeding heart but damnit, you’re going to get yourself eaten in that blasted forest if you try to spend the night there.”

Shock at her words coiled into concern as a distant burst of white movement amongst the crowd distracted Luz, drawing closer to the Owl Lady’s rickety stand from down the cobble road.

“If you promise not to get all weird about it, I’ve got a spare room back at my place where you can stay. Just for a few nights until you get on your feet, you hear? And then we’ll see if -” Eda cut herself off, head jerking around to follow Luz’s gaze as she registered the shifting of the nearby people.

“Oh hellfire,” She spat with a snarl. “It’s the Bonehead’s guards.”

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

The rapidly approaching cadre of armed guardsmen spurred Eda the Owl Lady into action, moving her to grasp Luz by the shoulders.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to renegotiate, kid: I don’t wanna be hauled off to the local jail, and you don’t wanna be trying to take a nap in the murder forest.” The easy playfulness of the older woman was erased, a grim seriousness in its stead. “So here’s what we do – I’ll pack my load of crap up, and you think up a way to stop those coppers from catching my keister red-handed. Sound good?”

Luz blinked, stammering, as she shook herself free of the merchant’s grip. She’d barely even registered the offer for housing, and now - “You want me to help you be a criminal? I didn’t sign up for that sorta stuff!”

“Tough toodles, sweety.” Eda’s bright eyes were flinty, her gaze as unyielding as her tone. “You don’t have to agree to anything, but if you want a good roof over your head for cheap when boiling rains or a slitherbeast come passing through, I’m gonna need your help.”

Her grim countenance broke for a moment, a sly smirk shaping her lips. “Consider it a down payment on rent. Now get over there and… make a nuisance of yourself!”

As Luz was rudely shoved into away from the table, the Owl Lady retreating into her tent with a frantic sense of hurry, she briefly considered tossing the crude merchant to the guards to do with as they pleased.

The same lady who had put up with her even after her poor introduction… and who knew the source of the eclectic arrangement of human rubbish that she was peddling, along with an offer of room and board.

… Her mami could never find out about this.

Her heart pounded loudly in her ears as she stiffly walked towards the officers, taking a forced meandering path as her eyes darted about, praying for some kind of inspiration to strike.

Stands lined the packed street, piled high with countless goods, numerous customers milling about as they browsed. One stand advertised foolproof crystal balls, another purported to sell genuine salamander hide cloaks and coats, there was a stand with a roaring barbeque tray crackling merrily next to the curb –

Aha.

Luz carefully wandered closer towards the food stand, attempting her best at a casual gait. The flickering flames helped her concentrate on the upswell of red mana she was drawing into her body, the distant trickle of power from another plane’s mountainous ridges filling her palms with crackling promise.

Her time spent amongst the Gruul Clans of Ravnica had exposed her to many of the characters considered ‘unsavory’ by polite standards. Brutish men and women who took up arms against a society they saw as oppressive, tearing grand construction into ragged ruins at the very edges of the plane-wide cityscape. They came in many shapes and sizes, much like the people here: feral human warriors and hulking minotaurs, towering cyclopes or vicious elves – and a number of very eager fire elementals.

Luz’s wrist flicked out as she intentionally tripped into the side of the heated metal brazier, her stumbling taking her down to a knee as the spell snapped into focus. Evoking any form of creature beyond its worldly residence took significant power and concentration, but her will was firm – and her assistant was fairly small - as she dragged one of Ravnica’s native flame hellions into being upon the Boiling Isles.

The giggling fire sprite leapt from the flames at her silent command, scrambling up her back as she cried out in mock surprise. It recognized her as the kind girl who had fed it scraps of wood and cinder around the towering bonfires of the Gruul, easily slipping into a magical bond with Luz as her kindness resonated throughout its childish soul. As with most summoned creatures, it could anticipate her desires with a thought – and so it tumbled down in front of her face, yanking the brim of her violet cloak over her eyes as she gave an exaggerated shout of fright.

Luz bolted up, frantically flailing as she ran past where she had last seen the guards, her elemental cackling and spitting bursts of eye-catching sparks every which way as they fled. Sure enough, the startled shouts of commanding voices followed after her mad dash, separating the pack of shocked marketgoers with their chase.

With the sprite at her command, navigating blindly was no issue. She simply stumbled awkwardly in the same direction that the little spirit tugged on her hood, leading the lion’s share of the guards off of Eda’s scent and into a back alley.

Another telepathic order sent her tiny fiend jumping from its perch atop her head and deeper into the warren of dirty alleys, finally letting her come to a stop to really seal the deal with the police as they came flooding into the alley’s mouth.

“Citizen! Are you alright?” One panting guard asked her, even as his comrades went streaming by, chasing the leaping shadows cast by her summoned companion. “That fire demon had quite the hold of you!”

“Oh, I’m fine sir,” Luz lied boldly to his beaked metal visage. “I don’t know where that thing came from, it just – flew right out of that stand’s fire when I bumped into it! Don’t worry about me, though, those other officers need your help!”

The huffing guard gave her a confident nod, rushing off with club in hand to follow his comrades. Luz released a relieved sigh, slumping against the uneven brickwork of the adjacent house as she remotely slashed her connection to the flow of red mana. Without its source, the spell would fade shortly and send her little assistant back from whence he came – but hopefully not before he kept those guards busy for a while yet.

She ducked back out of the alley, one hand readjusting her disheveled cloak as Luz tilted her head. Now she just had to make her way back to Eda, maybe start wheedling some answers out of her in a nice way –

The collision with somebody walking briskly in the opposite direction shook her from the glee of a successfully executed plan. Luz staggered back a half-step, an apology already forming on her lips as she looked up at the intimidating countenance of the woman she had run into.

“Ah, just the citizen I was hoping to find.”

A cold jade gaze looked down on her impassively, leaving Luz frozen and silent with a sense of slight dread. The mage – and there was no doubt about that, with the metallic crackle of magic humming about her - wore a cloak of brilliant white, accented by the dark green dress and skirts that complimented her smooth deep-blue tresses. An organized line of guardsmen stood at attention behind her, their concealing hoods and curved beak helms a much more impressive sight than the uniforms sported by the other police.

“Were you harmed by that unruly demon my men went running after? You gave us quite the excitement for a moment.” The words remained polite, but Luz felt more than heard the woman’s underlying edge of impatience.

“I’m fine ma’am, thank you for asking.” Don’t show weakness. There was something dangerous about this person. “It came right out of a fire pit in the square, I’m not sure which one. Some of your men are still chasing it down, hopefully they can grab it.”

Time to make a tactical retreat before Luz could say something she might regret. “Well, I better get back to shopping, thanks again for your service and -”

The hand on her shoulder applied no grip, and yet the gesture was much more domineering than when Eda the Owl Lady had done so.

“Just a moment of your time. We were patrolling the area for – miscreants. But seeing as we’ve found a more immediate issue, why don’t you assist us in identifying the perpetrator? I’m certain you could point out which stall was hiding such a dangerous demon.” The sentence was less a suggestion, and more a veiled command.

“Of course.” This was not good. There was no guarantee Eda would be ready to move, and this lady meant business. “I’d be happy to help. Right this way.”

Luz knew quite well the path back towards the Owl Lady’s stall, but these officers weren’t aware of that. She took as much time as she dared retracing her steps, making a show of trying to recall the wild path she’d been ‘dragged down’ by the elemental. There was only so long she could feasibly stall their progress, however, and the growing frustration of the guard captain’s gaze burrowed into the back of her skull as they meandered.

Finally, after a quarter of an hour, they arrived where Luz had started and she couldn’t contain the wince at the remnants of chaos in the bustling square. Her sprite hadn’t directed its bursts of flames near any vulnerable people or stalls, but in such a crowded locale it was all too easy for a breeze to blow swirling embers into dry cloth. Merchants bustled about, groaning and grumbling as they covered their goods and batted at lightly smoking patches of tarp. The browsing crowd had shifted away after the spectacle, dispersing throughout the marketplace. Thankfully, when she gave it a glance, the overturned roasting pit had been swept up by the owner, leaving no obvious indicator of which merchant had been harboring a ‘fire demon.’

“I’m not really sure which stall it was – I just bumped into the fire pit and that monster came jumping right out.” Lying was not Luz’s strong suit, but so long as she wasn’t making eye contact there were no blatant tells in her body language. “Sorry I couldn’t be of more assistance, but I really need to get going.”

The mage gave a low growl, but responded with forced cheerfulness.

“Thank you for your time, citizen. I am quite sure that we can take it from… here.” Her voice trailed off vaguely, interest peaking in her tone as something caught her attention.

Not. Good. Luz twisted around to follow the woman’s gaze.

Eda the Owl Lady was loitering by the empty lot that her stand had occupied, a sizable rucksack over one shoulder while her other hand rolled a carved staff back and forth anxiously. She had waited for Luz with the guards coming after her?

She wanted to facepalm – the merchant had likely, and reasonably, assumed that Luz would have no way to track her out in the wider town. She probably thought that a plan to cause chaos would end with her return to the square guard-free.

Any hope for a quiet recovery was dashed when Eda’s head shot up, catching sight of her deep purple cloak easily – a moment before she realized who surrounded the young girl she had agreed to let move in.

“What a pleasant surprise to find you here today, Edalyn.” The smug satisfaction in the guardswoman’s voice was plain for all to hear. “I suppose helping out the citizenry was my good deed for the day. Karma does love to repay in full, does it not?”

“Lilith.” The word was ground out with the air of longstanding history. “What, got tired of tasting the Emperor’s boot back in the castle? Thought it’d be fun to give the same treatment to some of the ‘peasants’ down in town?”

Any playfulness in the cold woman evaporated at the insult.

“Actually, I was hoping to catch you busy on one of your off-days. You do so love swindling the common folk out of their hard-earned pay, after all.”

The two were clearly preparing for a brawl – Luz could feel the static crawl of swirling magic fill the air as Lilith and her entourage tensed, hands moving low for the weapons strapped at their belts.

She had to think of something, and fast.

“Gasp! Miss Lilith, you know the infamous Eda, the Owl Lady?” Luz directed a shocked look towards the pale merchant, melodramatically gesturing at her. The guard captain gave her a sideways look, some of her anger bleeding off into exasperation.

“Yes, citizen. I am well acquainted with the Owl Lady and her rampant disrespect for all things decent.”

Luz hoped the other mage couldn’t sense how she was reaching out and gathering the natural blue mana in the air as a spell formed on the tip of her tongue.

“Ha!” Eda barked out a harsh laugh. “I wouldn’t recommend listening to everything my sister says, kid. She loves to play the hero to her own story, regardless of who she has to trample along the way.”

…Well, a sibling rivalry would certainly go a long way towards explaining the well-aged animosity hanging between the two mages.

Lilith spun back around, lashing out with budding anger at her sister’s statement.

“Fine words from a wild witch who rebuffs the law at every turn! Lying and cheating your way through life from start to finish.” The words were spat like acid.

Luz was not a trained mind mage, but she prayed that this spell would work. She’d seen and attempted it before, felt its affects herself, but it was a lot of mana directed towards innocent minds to cast carelessly…

“Is that really how you feel, Lily?” Eda aimed for indifference, but the hurt in her voice shone through. “All that time working for Belos, and that’s what you take away from this?”

She felt the spellwork crescendo in her veins, just as Lilith made to snipe at her sibling once more. Luz grabbed the enraged woman’s arm, bringing her gaze back around to the planeswalker, hoping that by directing her attention towards the mage that the effects would overcome any defenses.

“I just wanted to thank you again for the help today, Miss Lilith. But what I really need right now is for you and your men to sleep.”

The sorcery discharged into the air as an intangible corona, washing over the guards surrounding Luz as she directed the mana into their bodies. She was careful to not press upon them too harshly, only wanting the telepathic command to incapacitate them. Most of the becloaked soldiers dropped on the spot, a few staggering drunkenly as they fought against the dizzying effects of the spell.

Lilith stumbled out of her grip as she took the brunt of the effects, eyelids drooping as a bewildered expression crossed her slackening face.

“Wha…? What did you do -?” The cultured woman went down hard, weakly falling to her rump on the cold stones as her magic instinctively counteracted against the attack.

Luz wasted no time, rushing towards a frozen Eda with a shouted command of, “Let’s go!” She tugged on the woman’s staff wielding arm, bringing her back to reality as the drowsy officers tried to reorient themselves. In a smooth motion, the Owl Lady threw a leg over the staff she was carrying, grabbing Luz by the scruff and hauling her up onto the pole ahead of her. The younger womantried not to overbalance on the narrow length as Eda barked out a command, sending them shooting skywards and away from the hostile crowd below.

As they fled, one guard managed to stumble to their feet, a wild blast of fire tearing up at them from the glowing ring they traced into the air. Luz turned at the roaring rush of fire, a response instinctively leaping to her command through her retained connection to the tides of blue magic. The simple counterspell blasted from her outstretched fingertips, slicing the fireball into nonexistence as they made their daring escape out of Bonesborough.

She gave a wild, victorious whoop as the pair flew into the sky, levelling out at a more controlled pace directed away from the town’s borders. Eda gave her own pleased little chuckle, eyes on the excited girl sat before her as she punched the air merrily.

“That’s the first time I’ve gotten that sleep spell to work! And all for a cleeeaaan getaway.” She emphasized her point with a sliding motion of her hands, sly grin directed over her shoulder at the pale mage.

The Owl Lady let out another snort at her antics, giving a shake of her head in disbelief.

“That was certainly something there, kid. Thought for a second there you’d turned around and ratted me out to the cops, too. And just after my generous offer!” One hand came up to her breastbone in mock offence, the easy joke failing to disguise the genuine moment of concern she had felt.

Luz’s gut twisted with a spike of guilt, recalling how that exact thought had originally crossed her mind, but she shook herself free of potential ‘what-ifs.’

“Nope! No need to worry about me, Miss Eda. I’m no narc.”

“Well, that’s relieving to hear. Eh… I think.” A beat passed. “Being completely honest? When you walked up to my stand and started with that introduction, I was kind of wondering if you were an undercover cop looking to get me hauled off to the Conformatorium.” That didn’t sound like a very pleasant place to be jailed at.

“Haha, no, I was just – surprised at what you were selling. Not many people try to pawn goods from… another world. You know?”

“I do know, that’s why I hand that crud off to the stooges down in town. Today was pretty slow, but I’ve made a killing on that kind of sale before.” A knowing, suspicious glint was in her eye as she looked down at her passenger. “Especially when I can get that stuff up and running again.”

Luz turned away quickly, her elation dimming at those words.

“I’m just good with my hands. You’ve gotta be when you’re on your own for so long.”

“…Trust me kid.” The warm timbre of Eda’s voice sounded choked in her ear. “I know all about that.”

The rest of the flight was taken in stilted silence, allowing Luz to bask in the wondrous view of the Isles sweeping by, her wandering eyes hungrily devouring the sights of an alien world.

It wasn’t long before the peak of a tall cottage came into view on the edge of the canopy, a crumbling stone tower rising up behind it like a rocky spine. The second floor was dominated by open balconies and a masterfully crafted panel of stained glass, the impression of a monstrous eye leering down in hues of red and orange.

“Welcome to the Owl House, my most recent stray. Where I escape the reach of dunderheads like my sister for the comforts of a quiet life. Er, quieter life.”

The staff swooped low, smoothly aligning itself parallel to the porch to allow its passengers a safe dismount. Luz couldn’t help the small gasp leaving her as she took in the grandiose presentation of the remote home, eliciting a satisfied smirk from the owner.

“Oh yeah, she’s quite the beauty. Found some of it, built some of it too, but it’s all mine. The perks of being a bachelorette, you know?”

“I – Yeah. Wow. It’s a gorgeous place, Miss Eda. Just the kind of house I hope to have one day.” Her stomach flip-flopped a little at her own words, the verbalizing of an ancient dream after so long feeling odd.

“Glad to hear it. Though, there is one more thing before we get you moved in.” Her voice was carefully nonchalant from behind Luz, but the girl didn’t pick up on her phrasing, too engrossed in the magical structure before her.

“Uh, yeah? What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just satisfying some of my curiosity.” The Owl Lady yanked the hood of her beloved cloak down to her shoulders, dragging Luz from her enchanted state as she let out an indignant yelp.

“Aha! I knew it!” Eda’s voice rang with triumphant vindication. “You’re no witch at all, you’re a human. Which is how you knew about fixing that little doohickey at my stand!”

She pulled herself free, adjusting her lengthy braid to rest over the disturbed hood as she reflected that maybe the people around here had some sort of issue with maintaining personal boundaries.

“Yes. I’m human.” Irritation and confusion crept into Luz’s words. “Is that some kind of problem?”

“Humans,” Eda announced loudly, “Can’t do magic. I’ve never heard of a single one being able to cast even the tiniest of spells, but you -” Her hands gesticulated wildly. “Were slinging magic like any witch I could name! And I wanna know how you do it.”

That was… a bit bizarre. But if these people – the ‘witches’ Eda claimed lived on these islands – had only ever encountered humans from Earth, where Luz had never seen any magic occur, that might explain the woman’s confusion.

“I don’t know what to tell you.” Luz gave her a look full of trepidation. “It’s just something I was taught by some friends. They didn’t find it weird that a human could perform magic, but they’re also from… pretty far away.”

“Hmm. A mysterious backstory of intrigue and unknown magics, huh?” The Owl Lady hummed, a hand cupping her chin. “Well, now I’ve definitely gotta keep you around. I’m a sucker for new spells, and vague sob stories from homeless little vagrants like yourself.”

“…Wow. Way to make a girl feel welcomed.” Luz grumbled mulishly. The insensitive witch clapped a friendly hand around her shoulder, guiding the pair towards her front door.

“Ah, I don’t mean anything by it, kid. ‘Sides, if you’re gonna stay with me for a bit, then that means you’re only a mysterious houseguest with a tragic backstory, not a bum.”

“Honestly? That’s not really helping.”

“What can I say, I’m a mixed bag when it comes to emotional support. On that note…” She stuck a pair of clawed fingers into her mouth, letting out a shrill whistle as they reached the door. “Open up, Hooty! The new roomie and I need to get inside.”

Luz had been expecting any number of things from that call, but the door knocker blinking sleepily and then stretching wetly from the wooden frame was not one of them.

“Hiya, Eda! Bring back any tasty bugs or garbage for me to chew up?”

Dios mio. That voice was like claws running through Luz’s brain.

“Not today, you weirdo. Gonna have to settle for what you can catch in the yard later.” Eda gave a quick shake of the stunned girl in her grasp. “This here is Luz, and she’s going to be living with us for a bit. Don’t bother her, or try to eat her or whatever else you do to those goons that come poking around the property, you hear?”

“Hooty hoot, sounds good to me! The best kind of friends are the ones you don’t have to digest!”

“…Yeah, I don’t have time to unpack that statement right now. We’ll be going inside.”

Thankfully, the demented thing embedded in Eda’s walls had to open itself entirely to allow them inside, preventing it from saying anything else too horrifically traumatizing for Luz to try and handle.

“That whole interaction was… way more disturbing than I was expecting.” Luz mumbled.

“Yes, well, that’s Hooty for you.” A flick of Eda’s fingers sent a spark of light racing around the room, lighting the numerous lamps and torches lining the walls in an unfolding wave of warm illumination.

Priceless artifacts and pointless junk crowded the shelves and cabinets in equal measure, the aesthetics of a well-lived home completed by the plush, worn out pieces of mismatching furniture filling the foyer. A fire crackled to life with a snap as the spell concluded, the leading burst of light diving from the ring of candles into a stack of prepared logs in the hearth. All in all, the Owl House’s atmosphere was pleasantly cozy, considering its bizarre inhabitants.

The Owl Lady deposited her sack of goods and handsomely carved staff with an absentminded toss, moving towards the kitchenette stretching out of the main fore. To add to Luz’s continued line of shocking discoveries, the wooden owl topping the witch’s transport animated with a shudder, winging from its discarded perch to rest itself on Eda’s slim shoulder as she bustled about the kitchen.

A high-pitched call rang out from deeper within the arcane home, catching Luz’s ear as she followed her witch host into the dining area.

“Eda! Do you have a new minion to serve my supreme majesty? I’m so tired of having to browbeat Hooty into doing really basic stuff around the house!”

The third, unannounced member of the Owl House stomped down creaking stairs into the living room, and she couldn’t contain the high-pitched squeal that left her at the sight.

“Uh… I think you broke her somehow. Most people don’t make a sound like that without a punctured lung – Gurk!” The tiny being’s words were choked off as Luz swept him from his paws, squeezing the furry black beasty to her chest as his skull-capped head jerked away in a panic.

“Dios Bueno, you are the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen speak.” It was for the best that no dogs were nearby, on account of how high Luz’s voice had reached.

“Aaah! Eda! This isn’t a servant; you brought a carnivorous assassin into the house and she’s trying to consume me!”

“Wow, okay. You’re a major sucker for cute things.” Eda blinked bemusedly, before giving an indifferent shrug. “Welp, not my problem. Luz, meet the King of Demons. He’s my freeloading roommate that runs potion sales for me – when he can be bothered, that is. The lovable little guy on my shoulder is Owlbert, my palisman.” One hand came up, a clawed finger stroking the miniature bird across the breast and drawing a content hoot from it. The pale woman turned about, rooting through the aging refrigerator for some basic foodstuffs. “Anybody else want a sandwich?”

“Yes please! Two, if you’re willing.”

She didn’t receive a coherent response from King, seeing as he was too busy shrieking about being cuddled by his new housemate. He was finally released onto a stool adjacent to the kitchen table, panting heavily as Eda slid a laden plate in front of both him and the ravenous young planeswalker.

Luz tucked into her meal with gusto, one eye on Eda as they ate in companiable quiet. She strove not to choke down her sandwiches as quickly as possible, but old habits die hard. Busy days and nights around unbound campfires with nomadic clans far from civilization left her an efficient, if messy eater.

In short order, the pair of sandwiches and handful of unrecognizable fruits the Owl Lady had graciously thrown in were wolfed down, and Luz was left to wait for her bemused-looking hosts to complete their own meals. After swallowing the final bite of her entrée, Eda cleared her throat with a sip of water, her eyes on Luz.

“So,” She began. “Let’s summarize. I’ve got space for another roommate here at the Owl House, and you don’t have anywhere to stay permanently in town. I could stand for some help with my businesses from somebody a bit more consistent in their work ethic -” King maintained his best guileless expression. “- And on top of that, we’ve both got some interesting little tidbits for each other. You’re a human who knows magic, and I know how to source items from the human realm. We all caught up here?”

Luz nodded even as King clambered up to head level from his seat, inspecting her rounded ears with a squint after Eda’s proclamation.

“Good. This is what I’m offering: you teach me about those weird spells you were casting back there, and help me out with potions and the marketplace. In exchange, you get room and board until something else comes along, and if I like where this little arrangement is going, I’ll help you with finding stuff from your home world. Deal?” Her saleswoman smirk was back as she held her hand out for a shake.

Time and patience, Luz. Just a little more before you’re home.

“Deal.” A handshake and a smile to seal the promise.

“Glad to do business with you.” Eda’s smile this time was much more genuine than it had been in the bazaar. “Since we’re already burning daylight, let’s get started. You can help me pick through the trash I’ve already nabbed and pull out the best finds.”

That night, as Luz collapsed into her bedroll in a dusty attic full of creaking and looming shadows, she dreamt vividly.

The world was engulfed in choking fog, peeling away before her to reveal a walkway made of enormous vertebrae. There was nothing and no one to find – the thick cloud muffling even her cries for assistance. The only path for Luz was forward.

The bones shuddered and groaned as she travelled over them. Snaps like cracking ice and whipping cords filled the air, crisp to the ear even when suppressed by the low-hanging smog.

She walked for an eternity, and only a moment. When the path dipped down sharply, plunging into the white void, the veil fizzled away to reveal the Titan’s grand skull. Its formless jaw rose from the mists, teeth like stalagmites as it loomed over her. The moment of death caught in perpetuity.

Wind hissed from its gaping maw, swirling and blasting past Luz as she fought to retain her footing. It sounded like whispers on the breeze, a corpse’s final gasp made manifest. Trying to convey some vital last words of wisdom.

But the gale tore her frail human body away, down into the void before anything could be heard.

Luz bolted awake, sweat streaking her back as a firm gust of wind smashed the faulty window against the wall with a slam. It brought with it the scent of the Titan’s breath from her dream: a tinge of worn metals and salty, foreign seas.

She put it from her half-awakened mind, securing the window best she could as she sought slumber once more.

Her second day on the Boiling Isles concluded with the sight of stars obscured, only aging wood and cold drafts to keep her company.

Chapter 4: Interlude 1

Chapter Text

A pair of worn, featureless ceramic glasses waited to be filled.

The best coffee blend currently available in the castle bubbled in a pot, with two cubes of sugar and an ounce of creamer for each cup on the side.

Their portable stove blazed healthily as the coffee pot boiled just enough for the two mugs. It wouldn’t do to waste good caffeine.

One steaming drink found its way to Lilith Clawthorne’s desk, the firm rap on wood from the mug making her jerk fitfully from her nap. She wasted little time in downing as much liquid as quickly as possible without searing the flesh of her mouth too horribly, while her more awake underling made certain to take only measured sips, standing at attention quietly.

The leader of the Emperor’s Coven muttered darkly to herself as she peered blearily into the depths of her cup, as if trying to parse secrets from the way its dregs settled to the bottom. Considering it wasn’t tea leaves, she likely wouldn’t be able to determine much, if anything.

“Well,” She stated only partially to herself. “Edalyn remains as crafty as ever. I can’t say that I was betting on an active accomplice.”

Her audience remained silent, awaiting her address.

“I definitely wasn’t anticipating some kind of – invisible spellcasting, either. I didn’t even think something like that would be possible without serious magical artifacts.” One hand rubbed subconsciously at her chin as Lilith pondered the aftermath of their disastrous attempt at an arrest earlier.

She released an exaggerated sigh that left her sagging, looking aged beyond her years. Finally, she turned to address her company, absentmindedly noting the still-steaming cup in their hand.

“I didn’t see much after the spell, but you – you were the only one cognizant to get an attack off at my sister and her little helper.” Lilith looked her over, the remainder of her professional countenance softening. “A commendable effort, by the way. What are your thoughts on the matter, Miss Blight?”

Dropping her impeccable stance, Amity Blight shook herself free of her coven-issue cloak, clipping the avian mask to her belt while draining the remnants of her coffee in a single gulp.

“The chase involving the demon was clearly an act.” She spoke succinctly, free of any judgment in her tone. “There were enough minor fires set to keep a majority of the coven members occupied, and the rest of the distraction was sold by the crowd panicking.” A pause, as she thought over the circ*mstances of the day. “The Owl Lady needed time to pack, at least the fifteen minutes we spent with her accomplice.”

Amity didn’t dare continue into the depths of taboo topics, but a pointed gaze had Lilith nodding at her assessment.

“The curse seems to be slowing her down, then. I can clearly recall her spiriting away entire tents worth of goods with little effort in the past.” The coven commander seemed to perk up as her mind mulled over their conversation, the thrill of the hunt reinvigorating her.

Perhaps she didn’t mind casually addressing her sibling’s affliction, but Amity would happily leave her commanding officer to speak of such things. It felt a tad… uncouth to talk so freely of someone that ill, even if they were a repeat offender.

“Do you have any adjustments to the coven’s orders, Miss Clawthorne?”

“No.” The answer was firm, in spite of her earlier frustrations. “Remind the others to stay as they are – observe the Owl House and report any findings to me, nothing more. Edalyn is my responsibility.” She picked at her sullied cloak, expression souring for a moment. “Clearly a head-on confrontation will simply add to the trouble of containing her. A workaround of some sort is necessary, for her and that damnable house demon.”

“And her accomplice, Miss Clawthorne?” Best to cover this territory sooner rather than later.

“Place her under observation when available, as well. I am curious as to how she accomplished those acts today, but drawing Edalyn’s ire by targeting a possible apprentice seems unwise. Especially considering we know little about her capabilities.”

Amity hesitated, feeling her queries drawing closer to toeing the line.

“…Do you believe the Emperor should be informed of these developments, ma’am? The Owl Lady is one thing, but what her companion did…”

“That will not be necessary, Miss Blight.” The cordiality fled her voice at the suggestion, and Amity knew it was a response born of fear, not conviction. “There are numerous logical explanations as to how that young witch did what she did, and we currently have little idea of the ‘how’ or ‘why.’ Better to understand the situation further before we waste our Emperor’s time with frivolities.”

“Of course, ma’am.” Came the clipped response. “At your leave, then.”

Lilith levelled a tired look in her direction, a tinge of regret settling in her expression before she gave her underling a weak smile.

“Apologies for my loss of temper, Amity. It was a valid question.” Her grin grew, turning wryer as her posture loosened. “You know that you don’t need to be so formal with me. I’m not going to snap your head off for a bit of wit – you can leave the gargoyle impression to the more fearful minions.”

That was enough to break the ice a bit, Amity letting a small chuckle escape alongside her own smile.

“My parents sought to raise a perfect young lady of House Blight, Miss Lilith. It’s not something easily dropped.”

Lilith’s expression darkened at the mention of her parents, a bit of determination filling her spine as she stood from her desk, clapping both hands gently to Amity’s shoulders.

“Odalia and Alador may have brought up an impeccable young Blight,” She stated firmly, holding Amity’s gaze. “But I’ve trained a prodigy for years who is more than the sum of her parent’s lessons on manners and etiquette, important as they might be.”

Her smile returned then, softer and warmer than its prior appearance.

“You’ll make a fantastic coven leader, one day. Just the right amount of character to offset the terrifying reputation of heading the Emperor’s Coven itself.” She gave a cheeky chuckle at the blush crawling up her employee’s cheeks.

“Thank you, ma’am. It – means a lot, coming from you.”

Lilith released the grip on her young charge, stepping back a respectful distance as she folded her hands in a parade rest.

“Certainly. It’s important to ensure your underlings know when they’ve done an outstanding job – as much as it pains me to admit it, an organization like this is only as strong as the weakest link.”

A mischievous twinkle broke her stern façade once more, making Amity tense at the sly smirk sliding into her expression.

“Of course, this also means I am obligated to check on the coven’s health from time to time, including their mental wellbeing.” A pause, as her face blanked. “Tell me, Miss Blight, do you have any potential suitors in mind? It’s important to maintain a balanced life outside of work, and -”

“Well Miss Clawthorne I appreciate your glowing review of my performance but I really must be updating the coven detachment on our orders so I’ll be going now, goodbye!” Amity all but fled her commander’s office, the muffled sounds of Lilith’s guffaws hidden behind a hand chasing the desperate girl from the room.

It took but a moment to reaffix her equipment, the sleek metal of her mask hiding the burning in her cheeks and ears from the good-natured ribbing. Miss Clawthorne was lucky that Amity considered her a… major influence on her life, what with her occasional teasing about finding the girl a ‘partner.’

She was less than a year into her membership with the Emperor’s Coven, and barely out of secondary education. The thought of tying herself to anyone for the rest of her life was not the most appealing of prospects, currently. That went doubly so if her commander – or worse, her parents – were looking for a suitor from the… wrong pool of bachelors.

Amity shook herself from such unprofessional thoughts, spine straightening and stride growing confident as she slipped back into the role of deputy-head for the prestigious Emperor’s Coven. Orders needed to be dished out, members needed to be checked medically for any lingering effects of the day’s blunder, and the law still stood to be upheld by its dedicated servants.

The first order of business: to establish a watch rotation on the misbegotten Owl House deep in the Bonesborough woods, and locate a viable weakness to exploit.

Amity Blight moved with purpose into the belly of the Emperor’s domain, her timely departure from Lilith’s office preventing her from witnessing the coven leader in deep thought, staring a burning hole towards the inner keep where their liege resided.

From the moment the kid wandered up to her stall, Eda Clawthorne had her pegged as either an inexperienced coven rat – or a runaway, completely and utterly out of their depth.

She wasn’t exactly a local celebrity per se, but every resident of Bonesborough knew the name and likeness of Eda, the great and powerful Owl Lady. This girl, though – she didn’t even so much as flinch when the witch dropped her name casually. She was too busy gawking at the piles of human garbage cluttering Eda’s stall, as if the random useless trinkets held the mysteries of the universe within them.

Except her wares – they weren’t as ‘pointless’ as she might have assumed, not based on how the strange girl had gotten some of it functioning. Only a bunch of magicless schmucks would think to make a miniature Scroll capable of doing math on the fly for their children, but the Owl Lady was silently impressed, both with the utility of the device – and the handiness of her odd customer. It was almost jarring, how someone so bad at intentionally hiding information at surface level tried desperately to play their cards close to their chest.

And oh, did Luz Noceda need to work on her deceptions. She might have fooled ol’ Lilith and her lackeys with that little show in the market, but spend more than a minute speaking to the teenager and she was likely to fumble her fibs in short order. Coins that were ‘old family heirlooms,’ huh? Yet they looked practically clean out of the mint, even if they were a bit smudged up with grime. Asking about local prices while trying to act low-key, letting her obsessive interest with humans shine through every other sentence – the girl needed to get her story straight if she expected to actually trick anyone determined to parse out the truth.

After all was said and done, Eda still had her money on the kid being a runaway, even with her poorly maintained falsehoods. It was difficult to admit how much of a punch to the gut that was, seeing a hungry young witch – or human teenager, as it were – asking naïve questions about how to feed herself. Where she could stay, what she could pawn to keep herself afloat. Titan, she was such a sucker. If Luz hadn’t started their conversation with such an off-kilter approach, she might never have even questioned the oddities in front of her. As it was, Eda still had to contend with her long-buried sympathetic instincts even as she prodded the girl for information to see if she’d slip up and let onto whatever game she was trying to play.

But the more obvious elements of her newfound houseguest were only a drop in the bucket of Eda’s curiosity. The knowledge of human devices and interest in their scraps, giving way to reveal that the kid herself was human – which didn’t add up at all, in the Owl Lady’s books.

It was well-established fact, both on the Isles and in the Human Realm, that the round-eared cousins of Demon Realm witches could not perform any kind of magic. Not the simplest bit of spellcraft was available to them, and so they made do with their own arcane sciences and lessons that went right over Eda’s head.

Yet she had clearly witnessed Luz blast the Emperor’s Coven goons with some kind of mass sleep spell – without a circle in sight, to boot. Besides that, she’d been a little too busy packing to see what the original distraction she mustered up was, but could’ve sworn that a little demon of all things had just appeared from the blue to tackle Luz and lead her screaming away into the market. And then their daring flight into the sky – one toady gets a solid fireball racing after them, and the kid just stops it full bore, a simple wave of her hand that made the shot disappear without so much as a pop.

Color Eda interested in her little find at the marketplace. It wasn’t until the end of their flight home that she could confirm her suspicions about Luz’s heritage for herself, but that just made the mystery all the more tantalizing.

Powerful, unknown types of magic cast by a human of all people; add to the fact that the kid’s humor jived well with her own, and the all-but-stated appearance of a runaway fleeing home – the Owl Lady was determined to figure this chick’s deal out, and maybe get some nice new tricks to sweeten the deal. Any magic that strong had to have come from somebody well hidden from Belos’ tyrannical reign against ‘wild magic,’ and if they were willing to teach some random human… Maybe a witch struggling with the shackles of a draining curse could stand to benefit from more power at her disposal.

Eda didn’t acknowledge to herself that she’d have still offered a place to sleep, even if the girl wasn’t a powerful or handy magic user. There was no way her presence on the Isles was in any way a coincidence – how would a human even get here? The Owl Lady was the only person with a way to the Human Realm on the islands, as far as she knew. Had to be one hell of a story.

Once she’d gotten a better picture of Luz and her whole deal, Eda would bring up the portal.

Wouldn’t want to spook a runaway kid with the threat of getting hauled home, after all.

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

The dawn of Luz Noceda’s third day on the Boiling Isles saw her waking well before anybody else in the enigmatic Owl House. The warm rays of early morning light filtering through the port window overlooking her attic chamber, gently rousing the planeswalker from her slumber as her internal clock pushed for wakefulness.

Jungle nomads didn’t linger long, nor slack off when it came to the daily struggle of life in the Zendakari wilds. Similarly, the rowdy and tumultuous energy of the wandering Gruul guildmembers tended towards early starting hours, warming themselves against the chill of breaking dawn with foraging and scuffling. Luz had slowly adapted to their lifestyles of rough physical exertion and long midday hours by necessity, and nowadays found herself as the earliest riser just about anywhere she travelled.

A quick trip to the bathroom Eda had shown her the previous day saw her teeth cleaned and snarled braid redone, giving her ample time to stretch out her aching limbs and get sluggish blood flowing for plenty of early activity.

She walked as quietly as possible down the winding stairs towards the kitchenette, her worn-out travelling boots threatening to wake anybody nearby – though thankfully, it seemed King had decided on sleeping somewhere upstairs instead of the couch as Luz feared. Her beloved cloak remained above with the better part of her gear, only a pair of simple trousers and a blouse to keep her warm as she foraged the cabinets for breakfast. Surely Eda wouldn’t mind if she took the initiative to make herself a meal?

It occurred to Luz halfway through that perhaps she should have asked the Owl Lady some questions about potential allergies before they’d retired for the night prior. It hadn’t really been a problem in the past, but if witch anatomy differed too greatly from human norms, it could be an issue later down the line. A conversation for later, she supposed, pouring herself a generous helping of what seemed to be standard oatmeal into a dish.

The air of the Isles bit crisply at her lungs as she stepped outside, staff in hand and meal warming her gut. The Owl House sat comfortably amidst a clearing in the omnipresent trees, with a greater break in the foliage along the seaside cliff dominating its one flank. It was there that Luz began running through the preparatory exercises she had learned so long ago, limbs flowing slowly but confidently through stretches, the backdrop of the rising sun silhouetting her with bo staff in hand as it sang in the chilled air.

The density of the woods helped her focus on calling up the energy necessary to summon a much larger companion than she had the day before, green mana creeping steadily through the soil and wind with the slow, pulsing growth of a hearty sapling. By the time she had finished her first set of warm-ups, the pumping of emerald magic through her body was reaching a peak. Luz slowed to a stop, taking deep steadying breaths as she reached out through the void of the Blind Eternities, calling once more on the bound soul of an elemental companion.

It had been a heart stopping shock to sit down on a vine-coated boulder just off a beaten rainforest path, panting from exertion, only to go shooting into the air as the head of the surprised elemental she had sat on rose skywards. Her Kor companions had scattered with panicked shouts, expecting the nature spirit to lash out in rage at those who had disturbed its rest – only to stop, dumbfounded, as it gently scooped the terrified human teen from its head and deposit her on the ground. In a moment of frightened disbelief, she had reached out a trembling hand to set lightly on the massive creature’s facsimile of a skull, drawing a low rumble like a creaking glacier from its form as the being accepted her contact.

The even-tempered elemental travelled with the roaming tribe for weeks as they passed through narrow gaps and swaying trees, its pace unhurried and curious as it studied their movements, sticking closely to an ecstatic Luz in their wanderings.

The last time she saw her friend on Zendikar was the day it gifted her a staff of living wood, drawn from its body like a splinter that still sang with the vibrant life of the plane’s fierce heart. It had seemed uncharacteristically reserved that day – and by the following morning the entity had heeded a call none of its companions could hear, a single traveler in the massive migration of elemental spirits streaming across the lands towards a distant threat that had the Kor trading concerned whispers and sleepless nights for days after.

It wasn’t long after its departure that the first of the Eldrazi invaders began to appear on the horizon.

Luz was dragged back to the present by the sound of reality tearing asunder, the ground beside the jagged cliff churning and rumbling with frantic energy as the fabric between worlds was breached. The tumbling soil shot upwards, melting into the shape of a grasping paw as vines and roots twisted between the rocky digits like veins. Slowly but surely, the distinct simian-esque body of Luz’s old friend took form in the condensed rock and plant life.

She’d always known her companion had survived the plane-wide war with the horrific monsters that had flooded the wilds – even on distant worlds, the living core of her staff pulsed in tune with the essence of the spirit, a comforting presence on lonely nights that reminded Luz of the acceptance she had found so far from home. That didn’t stop her from racing in for a bone-crushing hug, encircling the reptilian head of her oldest friend as the entity finished forming from the soil of the Boiling Isles. It delighted her even further when the inhuman being reciprocated the embrace, an arm as thick as a tree trunk gently wrapping around her body.

“Hey there, big guy,” She whispered. “Long time no see. How are things going back in the jungle?”

A sound like rustling leaves and chirping birds swirled around her, eliciting a pleased chuckle from the planeswalker. The nameless avatar didn’t speak any language she could replicate, but used its own unique form of communication to convey its point – and the peaceful sensation of thriving new life in its tone let her know quite well how the recovering world was doing.

“That’s good to hear. Things weren’t… looking great when I had to -” Run, her mind muttered. Flee like a coward. “Leave like I did. But that’s – great! I’m happy for you.”

Grinding boulders and the echoing calls of jungle wildlife met her statement as Luz pulled back. She gave her companion a hearty grin, planting a fist at her hip.

“It’s been quite a while since you gave me my staff. Want to see how good I’ve gotten with it? Catch up through a friendly brawl, you know? I bet I could take you in a spar.” Her eyebrows waggled playfully at the towering golem.

It cackled in the throaty voices of screaming jungle fowl, the pair sliding into easy stances as they made to engage in mock combat.

On reflection, she should have considered that for as large as the elemental was, a survivor of the Eldrazi assault would likely have to be very quick on their feet, as well. Luz knew she was in no true danger from her friend, but she couldn’t stop the swelling irritation at repeatedly missing her target while it danced away from her blows, the fact it was the size of a tank meaning little for its flexibility. Fine – if her partner didn’t want to play fair, then neither would she.

She tamped down on her growing aggression, focusing it into precise hits towards the spirit’s weaker joints even as she drew upon memories of jagged peaks reaching for the skies. Red mana flowed like hungry flames down her limbs, lending a speed and power to her attacks that left Luz on more even footing with her opponent. The elemental reared back in surprise at the renewed onslaught, the young adventurer giving a victorious shout as she managed to land several solid taps on its narrow knees and elbows.

Not to be outdone, the elemental retaliated with its own offense. Luz was put on the backfoot when it surged forward, vines snapping as living tendrils towards her legs in an attempt at driving her to the ground. She was forced to bat them away to avoid a fatal entanglement, and barely brought her staff up in a jab fast enough to catch the spirit just below its ‘chin’ as it bore down on her. The strike was sloppy, but it was enough to redirect its charge sideways, letting Luz dodge from beneath its formidable bulk.

Her heart was well and truly pounding at this point, the ebb and flow of harnessed mana swirling over her as adrenaline sharpened her mind and focused her connection to the faraway lands Luz had once bonded with. The pull of wild rainforests grew once more in her breast and she seized the refreshed well of magic, a clawed twist of her hand tearing conjured vines of her own from the ground to ensnare her opponent. It failed to anticipate its own attack being brought to bear against itself, wasting precious seconds ripping limbs free of the tangle as Luz lunged forward.

The staff rapped the beast across its head once, twice, three times as red magic burned in her muscles, granting her unnatural ferocity. The elemental was stunned, giving a lumbering swipe in her direction as it retreated, the other arm covering its vulnerable ‘face’ from the assault. Luz backstepped to avoid the wild swing, smacking it across the wrist in a parting strike. She was gulping down air, sweat beading her brow from the effort, but the taste of impending victory was sweet. She quite easily recalled the many times her alien friend would gurgle laughter like a rushing river at her as the Kor taught her staff combat, leaving Luz winded on her rear more often than not. Turnabout was fair play, after all –

Neither of them detected the ambush before it was already upon them.

“HOOT HOOT! Don’t worry Luz, I’ll save you!”

She was thrown back, sent sprawling with a yelp as an enormous, snaking body burst from the ground between Luz and her companion. The disorientating effects of her prior attacks were only amplified as the elemental found itself enwrapped by a slithering, feathery tube, the horrific elongated body of Eda’s guardian creature attaching like a hungry python. Evidently, they had awoken Hooty with their duel.

“Sorry Not-Friend, but the boss lady was clear on what to do with intruders.”

The lengthy body whipped like a cord, tossing the multi-ton nature spirit clear across the yard with a snap and sending it head over heels into the tree line. The gnarled trunks halted its tumbling roll, creaking lowly as the impact threatened to uproot them from the soil. The elemental took a moment to compose itself – only to realize the damaged caused to the innocent forest life by their scuffle. Luz could see the moment its mind turned over in rage, tearing across the clearing towards the strange house creature.

“Stop, stop! Both of you! Hooty, he’s a friend!” She leapt from the ground, placing herself with arms akimbo between the fuming spirit and the bristling owl being.

Hooty let out a choked cry as his lower half was suddenly smashed into the wall by the slam of the front door, a barely-awake Owl Lady fuming in the doorway in raggedy pajamas with King lurking nervously at ankle level.

“Why the fu – oh, what in the name of the Titan is in my front yard. The sun is barely even up.”

Luz knew she was blushing like mad from the burning in her face, even as the combatants stood stupefied on the ruined lawn. Eda cut a significantly less imposing figure in her sleeping clothes, but the glare she was levelling at the trio was strong enough to possibly set them aflame, even if she was half-blind with exhaustion.

“Uh, good morning Eda. Um. Miss Owl Lady. This is a friend of mine. We were… sparring. For fun?” She couldn’t contain the wince at her own meek response, one which drew the woman’s irate gaze to her so fast Luz feared she might get whiplash from the motion.

She tried not to fidget as her host burned a hole through her with golden eyes, before giving the same treatment once more to the cowering owl tube and the elemental, who somehow managed to convey a level of sheepishness without a face.

“I’m going back to bed now. If I hear a single noise from anyone for the next few hours, I will throw this entire house into the ocean with everybody inside.” King slunk out of the entryway just before the door slammed roughly behind Eda, leaving three very cowed beings on the lawn as the fearsome Owl Lady returned to her slumber. Feeling increasingly awkward about the whole affair, Luz turned to the stretched owl creature.

“Sorry for waking you up, Hooty. And getting us yelled at. I wasn’t really thinking we were gonna be that loud, and – I’m not used to having someone like… you around.” She kept her voice low, per Eda’s threat of destroying her entire household in a fit of rage.

“Oh, that’s okay new friend!” His high-pitched voice was brought down to an exaggerated whisper, as apparently, he also feared the wrath of a tired Owl Lady. “I know house demons like me aren’t too common around here. I was just worried that my new roomie was getting destroyed by some overgrown plant monster!”

“Hey, I was doing plenty well in that fight, thank you very much.” Luz huffed, before relenting after a moment. “But thanks for trying to keep me safe. I appreciate it.”

“No problem, bestie!”

She gave a look back towards the building, where the owl thing was anchored to the front door.

“How far can you stretch from the house? We can go hang out closer to the woods, if you can get over there. Maybe we won’t wake Eda up that way. Er, again.”

Luz glanced over at the tiny demon who’d followed them out, now awkwardly standing on the porch, likely too awake to try sleeping again but fearing for his own safety in the face of their host’s wrath.

“Want to come along King? We’ll kill a few hours while we wait for her to get up for the day.”

The adorable demon gave a wide yawn, jaw snapping as his tired voice echoed from nowhere and everywhere simultaneously.

“Your ruler is always up for entertainment from the lower class. And, uh, I don’t wanna get skinned by Eda for being too loud right now.”

Gesturing to the pair, Luz led the way into the fringe of the towering woods, her elemental companion following carefully between the narrow gaps of the tree line. They stopped a few dozen yards into the forest as Hooty approached his limits on extension, the smaller clearing just large enough to house the quartet. Calling once more on her connection to nature magics, Luz yanked a solid pair of extruded columns into being from the ground, giving herself and King somewhere to rest as Hooty and the foreign spirit nestled themselves in the surrounding grass. A gentle wind wound through the trees, cooling the air comfortably as the four sat in silence.

King was the first to break the comfortable quiet, eyeballing Luz with undisguised curiosity.

“What kind of magic were you just using? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone who can cast spells without a circle, besides a few weird magical animals here and there.”

Luz pondered the question for a moment, a distant look in her eye as she turned the question over in her mind.

“I don’t really know. It’s just how I was taught that people used magic. I know I’ve never seen anybody who had to cast spells with those glowing rings that Miss Eda used - maybe it’s a regional thing? She might have a better idea.”

King grunted in agreement, leaving the group to descend into silence once more – only to be broken by the furred demon once again.

“Ugh. I’m already bored.” He flopped over onto his back, giving his feet a cute little kick of frustration in the air as he whined. “This is why I don’t bother getting up before Eda – she’s the most exciting person on this island, even if she plays at being a mean old witch.”

“Well…” The gears of Luz’s mind turned over in search of an answer. “We could pass the time with a game.”

King’s head perked up, squinting suspiciously at her.

“What kind of game? I’ve only got six fingers total for holding stuff – and Hooty’s stuck using his mouth.”

“Yeah, I use it to eat lots of yummy insects I find crawling around!” She had almost forgotten how disturbing his train of thought was, hidden beneath the touching care displayed earlier.

“Have any of you played Tic-Tac-Toe before?”

Even with the dangers inherent to this neck of the woods, the stretch of overgrown pathways leading from Bonesborough to the infamous Owl House always made for a pleasant and relaxing walk. This far from civilization wild examples of plant life grew plentifully and vibrantly, flowering under the heat of high summer as warmth swept over the isles. The trees here had the grandest trunks, old age leaving them curling haphazardly around one another towards breaks in the canopy above with their orange and indigo leaves.

Willow Park could spend all day waxing poetic about the different plants out here, but alas, she was soon to be on the clock. She had little desire to test the patience of the Owl Lady, after all.

By the time the secluded house was coming into sight at the bottom of a gentle hill, the sun was approaching its zenith in the sky. A quick sip of cooled liquid from her waterskin kept Willow’s mouth wet as she sighed at the exertion. If there was one good thing about having to routinely make the trip on foot, it’s that it was quickly burning off any remaining baby fat she had left from her younger years.

She couldn’t help but slow to a stop, however, at the lower murmur of voices amongst the foliage surrounding the arcane Owl House. Slowing to a stop, her pointed ears pricked in direction of the sounds, encouraging her to move nervously off the beaten path. This wasn’t the first time she had stumbled across strangers lingering near Eda’s home – in most cases it was the dreaded Emperor’s Coven, the anonymous servants of the tyrant of the Isles trying to glean useful information on the most infamous wild witch left in the region.

As Willow crept closer, however, the tones of mirth and light conversation were made clear, at odds with the hushed whispers of grave soldiers scoping out their potential prey. Regardless, she strained to hear what was being said over the rustling din of a living forest, her gaze pointed towards the source of the racket.

“You traitorous worm, Hooty! I was about to claim victory with that impeccable strategy!” That was clearly the sound of the Owl Lady’s roommate, but what was he doing in the woods?

“Yeah right, King. You keep going for straight lines! Even I know that isn’t gonna work.” And there was Hooty, his awful voice scratching at Willow’s sensitive ears like usual.

“Yes it will you giant pigeon! Luz, he has to be cheating – tell him to stop targeting my masterful plans!”

“King, we’re all trying to win here.” That voice was new – the rich, lilting tones of an unfamiliar young woman. Had Eda found another witch in need? “I warned you guys it was going to get kinda messy with four people playing at the same time. And uh, he’s right, you keep just making single lines until somebody stops you. Not a great strat, buddy.”

“Fools, the lot of you. You’ll see the magnificent scope of my works when I’ve crushed you all beneath my heel!”

A sound not unlike a contained landslide followed King’s exclamation, leaving Willow to pause in confusion. What in the name of the Titan made a noise like that? Feeling her growing curiosity overcome any remaining trepidation, she stepped fully into view of the clearing.

She recognized two of the party before her from prior visits to the Owl House, King and Hooty being seated (and extended) at rest in front of a block of roughly hewn stone, a sturdy branch in each hand (or mouth, for the housebound demon). The remaining two individuals, however, Willow had no recollection of ever seeing previously – and they made for quite the striking sight.

The more eye-catching of the two was an enormous, animate growth of plant life swallowing a humanoid figure made of stone. Vines and creepers lashed to the surface of its core body, simulating muscles and fibers as it lumbered forward like a wild ape to peer down at the large stone tablet before them, a whittled length of wood in its grasp. The being towered over everyone else in the clearing, several head and shoulders above the rest as it gently reached forward, scratching a symbol of sorts into the dusty rock tabletop.

Willow found herself just as interested in the last member of their little group, however. A lean woman about her age was perched atop a seat of carved rock much like King, drumming fingers against a twisting wooden staff, the warm chocolate tone of her skin sitting somewhere between Willow’s own pale flesh and the rich pigment of her best friend, Gus Porter. Her lengthy braid of deep brown hair was tossed over one shoulder, resting on her foreign outfit of a loose silky shirt, completed by aged boots and traveling pants. The most mysterious portion of her appearance though, unless Willow’s poor eyesight was betraying her, happened to be the small rounded ears peaking from beneath her curls.

Did – did Eda find a human on the Boiling Isles? What was even going on here?

The probably-human was the first one to notice her standing at the edge of the woods, swatting backhandedly at King as she grabbed the group’s attention.

“Hey, guys. We’ve got company.”

The other three in the party turned in Willow’s direction – and oh, was it disconcerting to see the strange being without a face look directly at her. King was the first to acknowledge her, sounding mildly disinterested.

“Oh, hey Willow. This is the new roommate – Luz.” He swept a paw towards the sharp-eyed young woman sitting adjacent to him. “And her big rock monster buddy with no name. Who is somehow really good at a game it just learned today.”

“I’m starting to believe you’re just not as great as you think you are, Kiiinnngg.” Hooty smugly threw in his two snails, riling the smaller being up into a fit of fury as he turned to shriek at his fellow demon.

The girl – Luz – gestured for Willow to approach with a warm smile, tuning out the two bickering behind her. Somehow, she got the impression that the new Owl House tenant was already familiar with the pair’s antagonistic dynamic, and if the exasperated sagging of her enormous golem companion’s shoulders was any indication, the both of them had been dealing with this behavior all morning.

“Hi there, Miss Willow. The name’s Luz Noceda – a pleasure to meet you.”

Willow met the outstretched hand with her own, giving a firm shake as she returned the polite grin.

“Hello, Luz. I’m Willow Park, but just Willow is fine. I save the ‘Miss’ for Eda on bad days. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

“Ha ha, yeah, about that – it’s looking like that might be one of those days for Eda.” Luz gave a nervous chuckle, retracting her arm to palm her neck as she glanced away. “We kind of… destroyed half the front lawn really early in the day and woke her up. It was, um, bad. Whoopsie.”

“…Ah.” That would explain why they were lounging in the woods, instead of on the property itself. “Well, that’s okay. I come on weekends to help Eda out with sales, so maybe making some money will help calm her down if she’s still upset. The Owl Lady really loves her profits.”

Luz’s head tilted in curiosity, a question in her eyes.

“Wait, really? Huh. Eda promised me room and board if I helped her out with that kind of stuff.” She hesitated, a worried expression on her face. “I’m not stealing your job, am I? I can talk to her if I am, I don’t mind doing something else to pay -”

Willow held up a hand to cut her off, slightly touched by the display of concern as she gave the other girl a small smile.

“Don’t worry about it. If Eda offered you that deal, then she probably just wants to have someone around more consistently to help out. She’ll let me know if we need to change up our arrangement, but it probably doesn’t matter too much anyway. I get paid in… lessons.”

“’Lessons?’ Like, magical lessons?” Luz perked up at the thought, helping to soothe the slight bump of anxiety Willow felt at the admission. “That’s pretty generous of her. What kinda stuff are you guys going over right now?”

“A… little bit of everything, really.” It was a serious risk admitting to exploring the full scope of magical ability, but if this girl was staying with a wanted criminal, it was likely that she wouldn’t be going to the authorities any time soon. “Eda’s one of the most powerful witches on the Isles, since she’s a wild witch that’s wanted by the Emperor.”

The other girl leaned back, eyebrows ascending at that nugget of information.

“Whoa, whoa, wait – she’s wanted by the Emperor for being, what, a ‘wild’ witch? That got brought up yesterday, what does that even mean exactly?”

If Willow hadn’t already suspected the girl was from another world already, then that confusion would have blatantly confirmed it. Every citizen of the Boiling Isles knew of their Emperor’s wide-reaching decrees, lest they be caught on the wrong end of the law for the untamed usage of magic.

“A wild witch is somebody who doesn’t conform to coven limitations, and practices multiple schools of magic. It’s something everyone grows up knowing…” At this, Willow gave a pointed look at Luz’s unconcealed ears. “Unless of course, they’re from quite far away.”

The girl cupped her ears self-consciously, tracing their circular contours as she nodded in acceptance of the implied statement.

“Yeah, okay, you’ve got me. I’m not from around here at all. Eda kinda freaked out yesterday when she realized I was human, after she brought me back to the house.”

“Really? She’s never struck me as having a problem with different kinds of people, not when there’s all sorts out in Bonesborough.” That was somewhat odd, what had ruffled Eda’s feathers about Luz?

“Well, apparently humans can’t do magic.” The girl turned away from Willow, and – to her great surprise – made an upwards clawing motion, ripping a block of hardened soil from the ground before the young witch’s very eyes. “I’ve never had much of a problem with it. Would you like a seat?”

Wow. Not only had Eda found the only human on the Isles, but she was capable of magic – and evidently enjoyed playing the smart-alecky witch.

Gus would absolutely kill someone for an opportunity to meet this girl. Willow’s mind was still reeling from these new revelations as she sat on the conjured stool, absently taking in the sprawling checkerboard of a tabletop game that had been carved into the enormous slab of risen earth amidst the group. She supposed that answered the question of how such a thing had been accomplished so cleanly, though she would have bet money on the large nature demon squatting at the opposite end of the table to be the source of such a creation.

Speaking of which.

“Does your, um, human magic have something to do with the giant rock abomination? He’s quite impressive.”

The beast in question shifted towards her, its featureless head angled inquisitively as it shuffled closer to the pair. Willow tensed for a moment, not sure of its intentions, before giving an excited gasp as it presented its rocky skull for a touch. She ran her hand reverently over the stony contours of its body, eliciting a pleased rumble resembling the lowing of distant wild animals. Luz’s glowing smile returned as the two interacted, the girl leaning comfortably on her crafted table.

“Oh no, I didn’t create it or anything. It’s an elemental I bonded with a few years ago, born from the land itself – a nature spirit!”

“Whoa.” Willow’s awed voice wheezed out in a whisper. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Most of the wildlife around here is some kind of demon variant or another, not like this.”

Luz didn’t respond, leaving the plant witch to continue stroking the massive elemental’s skull as it basked in the affection it was receiving. Sadly, the peaceful mood was shattered by King and Hooty tuning back into the lull in the conversation, still hissing and spitting at one another as they made their presence known.

“Alright Luz, I command you to reset the board!” King declared imperiously, pointing skyward. “I must defend my honor as a grand tactician, and now we have another player anyway.”

Willow paused in her ministrations to the dozing elemental, leaning over the makeshift board to peer at their current round.

“Oh, this seems pretty familiar. I think I played it a bit when I was a witchling – what was it called again?”

“Tic-Tac-Toe?” Luz helpfully supplied.

“Yeah, that’s it. Sure, I’ll play a few games, unless – Hooty, is Eda up and moving yet?”

The house demon wriggled a bit in thought, checking in on the Owl Lady through his supernatural connection to the Owl House proper.

“Mmm… nope! Still snoring in her comfy nest.”

“Alrighty then.” Willow fished a solid looking twig from the forest floor as Luz made another wrenching movement with her hands, settling the loose soil of the table back into a roughly cut checkerboard pattern.

“May the best sentient being win!”

By the time Eda descended from her personal chambers into the sprawling central room of her home, the sun was at its peak for the day, and her houseguests had moved back inside, the wide kitchen windows thrown open to the warm breeze so that the elemental could poke its head inside with the other four lingering around the kitchen island while a hot lunch was prepared.

With Willow’s assistance, Luz had set upon making a hearty luncheon for the household as an apology for the earlier disturbance, the pair of young women chatting amiably as they worked together on a group meal. They had just finished up as the Owl Lady stumbled blearily onto a stool resting before the table, sleepily chewing through the plate of steaming pasta and vegetables slid before her, alongside a generous portion of bitter black coffee to get her up and running.

Once the older woman was looking a bit less like a freshly turned-over corpse, Luz launched into her rehearsed apology.

“I’m so sorry about this morning, Eda, with the lawn and waking you all up. I’m just really used to being up super early to get things done, and then I got really excited with my big buddy here, I just lost track of myself, and -”

The witch held up a hand, stalling the flow of contrite words, finishing off her cup of caffeine with a relieved sigh before levelling a slightly exasperated look at the young human.

“It’s okay, kid. Sorry for snapping at you earlier. I just don’t do well with mornings, especially without at least a mug’s worth of coffee or appleblood in my system to wake me up. But next time you want to throw down outside, do it a little further from the house – without destroying the entire forest, preferably. I need that for camouflage.” Her head turned to face the nature spirit looming in through the opened window, squinting at the creature in wary curiosity.

“Speaking of Big Green, what exactly is that thing? Never seen a demon like that around here before.”

“It’s an elemental,” Luz elaborated. “Normally they form when a lot of powerful magic floods the land in a big burst, and brings it to life. It’s really smart, too. I can’t speak its language because -”

The sounds of boulders clacking and rolling over swept through the first floor.

“Yeah, it sounds like that. It’s a person like you or me, just – different. We travelled a lot together back in the day, so I brought it in for a visit to catch up on old times. We got… separated, a while back, and I hadn’t seen it since.”

Eda gave a thoughtful hum, her gaze roaming over the motionless nature spirit as she thought.

“And how exactly did you ‘bring’ it in? I haven’t seen anything this big in the area for a while, and I would’ve noticed a hitchhiker this size when I brought you back to the house yesterday.”

“Er, that. Yeah.” Well, she had agreed to teach the witch her style of magic. This was going to probably take a lot of explaining. “Well, I… summoned it from its home. With a spell.”

“You ‘summoned’ it to the Owl House.” The Owl Lady sounded both thoroughly intrigued, and utterly skeptical.

“Yup. Summoned it.”

“…I have a feeling that this is going to be a bit more complicated than I was expecting.” Eda ran a hand down the bridge of her nose, brow furrowed in frustration. “Since that’s the case, I’ve got a better idea. One question: do you mind letting multiple people learn about your kind of magic?”

Willow perked up at the query, munching quietly on her meal, and Luz had a decent idea of what was being suggested.

“No, it’s not a big deal. If anything, I think it’s you who should be worried about using weird spells, since according to Willow you’re wanted for illegal magic.” She tried to keep the accusatory tone light, but her irritation at the skimming of such an important fact about her host left Luz just a little rankled.

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t expected you to figure that out on your own, kid, once you saw the Emperor’s personal coven bearing down on me. Regardless – I’ve got an idea rattling around. There’s a bunch of back ordered potions I whipped up recently that need to get distributed to my customers, which is what Willow here normally does on the weekend.”

The witch stood up, taking her dirty kitchenware to the sink as she continued speaking, scrubbing her plate clean under the watchful gaze of the nameless elemental.

“Why don’t you lighten the load for her, get out in town and drop that crap off. Hell, you know what? Take King too, and leave your massive pal here so there’s no trouble with the locals. Then, since I’m going easy on you today with half the workload, you can make up for it by giving us a crash course on how you do those crazy spells, like bringing a giant walking pile of dirt to life on my property.”

The freshly washed plate was dried with a quick circling of Eda’s wrist, sending a blast of heated air over its surface as she turned to face the table once more.

“That sound fair to you two?”

Willow gave Luz a hopeful look from behind her bookish glasses, the blue-haired witch clasping her hands before her in excitement. How could she say no to puppy eyes like that?

“Sure. I’m ready to go when you are, guys.”

“Hey, wait a minute, I can’t even do magic!” King protested loudly. “Why should I care about paying my way to learning how to swish a wand or whatever?”

“Because you live here, for practically free, eating my food and complaining all day whenever I give you chores.” Eda gave the diminutive demon an unimpressed look. “Unless you’d prefer to do something equally productive, like give Hooty a bath? I’m sure he could use one after tussling with the rock monster this morning.”

“I’m alwaayyysss up for a good scrubbing, Eda!” Came the disturbingly cheerful reply through the window. Luz had actually almost forgotten Hooty was peeking in, since he’d been so (blessedly) unobtrusive as they were putting together lunch.

“Never mind, I’ve suddenly rediscovered my love for physical labor. Let me go grab the potions!” King hurried from the kitchen, all but fleeing from the snaking form of the house demon as he crooned his excitement about bathing.

“Welp, that settles that.” Eda declared, dusting her hands with a smirk. “Let me whip up a list of addresses for my customers – King and Willow should be able to navigate it pretty well. And once you’re all back, we’ll see about some of that crazy magic I’ve been looking forward to.” She rubbed her palms together with avaricious glee at the thought.

King returned shortly after with a bulging rucksack of clinking glass vials, leading the way out the door once he’d dumped the bag onto the more capable form of Luz. The trio set off down the trail, waterskins slung over their shoulders for the long walk into town, the two young women making pleasant small-talk with each other as they went.

Eda retreated back within the house, sequestered away from the harsh beating of the midday sun, leaving the elemental to watch the retreating back of its beloved companion disappear into the depths of the tree line. All was peaceful for a moment, letting it settle in for rest on the baking ground – before Hooty reemerged from his mount, sidling up to the immobile spirit.

“Well big guy, looks like it’s just you and me for a while. Sorry about throwing you around earlier – Eda put me in charge of security. It’s probably the most important thing I do here!” The elemental rumbled soothingly at the bizarre demon, relaxing against the warm paneling of the magical house.

“Oh, I know what to do to pass the time! Do you want to hear all about how I keep Eda safe from nasty stuff, like tasty bugs and birds and coven members?”

The bellowing call of a wild herd of beasts comforting their young was the response.

“Great! Lemme tell you all about this one time Eda’s rude sister, Lilith, came by for a visit…”

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

When all was said and done with the Bonesborough potion delivery, the trio returned to the isolated Owl House just as the warm illumination of early evening flooded the clearing, royal hues of color shooting through the atmosphere above.

Eda greeted them at the door, ushering her exhausted assistants inside to reveal a warm meal waiting for them, steam still wafting from the grilled cuts of meat and vegetables. Luz and her companions tucked in without comment, the miles-long walk leaving them with little desire to dawdle on putting away a hot dinner. They lounged in companiable silence, though Eda and Willow seemed to swell with eagerness as they carved through their plates, leaving Luz to sigh fondly at the blatant anticipation of being taught new magics. Honestly, she couldn’t complain – she clearly recalled her own buzzing excitement when the soothsayers of the Kor had proudly proclaimed that she held some latent talent for their mystic arts.

Luz was not terribly familiar with the intricacies of casting through the methodology of ‘spell circles’ the two witches used, but quietly hoped there wouldn’t be too much impediment to imparting what she knew onto the women. In all likelihood, they’d be struggling a lot more with actually connecting to the natural mana around them than anything else. She definitely had, in the past.

“Alright, I can tell you guys are eager to get started. Wanna get out there before we burn through all our daylight?” Luz hiked a thumb over her shoulder, gesturing to the front door. King wandered away from the table, his focus fading as post-meal drowsiness lulled him into a doze, flopping onto the couch bodily.

“Sounds good to me. Let’s get moving, green girl.” Eda slapped the bespectacled witch on the shoulder as she moved to the sink, scooping Willow’s empty plate up as she passed.

“I should probably warn you I’ve never really tried teaching something like this before,” Luz mentioned cautiously, grabbing her staff from where it lay. “And I’m probably gonna have to go through some technical stuff before we really get going on the more fun bits.”

Eda waved a hand dismissively from the counter, not even bothering to turn around.

“Take your time, kid. We’ve got plenty to spare, so don’t sweat it – let’s just do things right the first time.”

She could work with that.

The overbearing heat of the summer was washing away while day turned to night, brilliant tendrils of approaching purple streaking the sky while Luz led her eager students outdoors. She took a quick detour to meet her slumbering elemental friend, giving the being a few friendly pats on the rocky skull, rousing it from inactivity.

“It was great seeing you again, buddy.” She muttered warmly against its rocky bulk. “Why don’t we get you home, make sure nobody tries to make a move on your stretch of jungle?”

One massive limb reached up, gently stroking her under the chin as chirping insects and lonely calls of fowl emanated from the spirit.

“Don’t worry about me,” Luz snagged its passing paw, giving a tender smile as she traced a comforting pattern against its stone limb. “I’ll make sure to summon you again soon – no more big stretches between visits. I swear.”

It sighed like whipping winds split against twisted mountain peaks, leaning into the planeswalker’s touch as she pressed their foreheads together with a hum.

“See you later, big guy. Stay safe, you hear?” Luz didn’t wait for a response, the inhuman brush of its mind against hers through their bond letting her know just how the elemental felt. Without ceremony the mage took a step back, snapping the standing thread of mana snarled up between herself and the spirit, watching its body crumble away into nothingness as its soul was returned to the untamed jungles of its homeland. A pang of regret ran through her at the loss of connection to her oldest friend, a melancholy tilt to her head as Luz took a moment to compose herself.

When the mage felt ready, she turned back to her prospective students, the pair of witches looking at the spot her companion had faded away with notable interest.

“Was wondering how you planned to get a gigantic boulder monster home, but I wasn’t expecting ‘vaporizing it’ to be the answer.” Eda’s statement came across as joking, but the raw thirst for knowledge in her expression belied her humor.

“It’ll be fine – sending things back doesn’t hurt them, normally.” Luz waved the concern away, drawing on her accumulated lore of spell mechanics. “I just cut the connection that was keeping my buddy anchored, and without that bond to hold it in place, the magic took it home.”

“Now that’s some handy spellwork,” The Owl Lady whistled appreciatively. “All you’d need is somebody who can pull that off to drag a person where they gotta go, and kick ‘em back to where they came from once they’re done doing whatever. Can think of a few good applications for it…”

“Summoning’s a bit more complicated than that,” Luz noted slowly. “But yeah, being able to bring in different creatures is pretty useful. We’ll focus on doing that later, though – let’s start from the beginning. This is gonna be a lot, so let me know if you need me to go back over anything.”

Luz strode towards the cliffside, back towards the lapping sea far below as she took a seat in a patch of untrampled grass and moss. After a moment’s hesitation, the other women followed, seating themselves similarly as they waited for the lesson to begin.

“When I first started learning how to use magic,” Luz began evenly. “My teachers told me that there are five main types of mana in the world you can access, which is the energy produced by different kinds of biomes, based on the landmarks and what lives there. That magic is expressed in one of five colors: red magic coming from mountains, blue being generated by bodies of water and islands, green mana for forests, white spells coming out of plains, and then black mana from swamps.”

As she spoke, the young mage rested her palms facing up on her knees, directing the flow of ethereal potential into her body while the swaying trees and crashing waves filled Luz with their borrowed power.

“It’s easiest to reach for mana when you can connect with those lands, by visiting and learning about them. As for what colors you can use, it’s based more on personality than anything else. Take me for example!” She left her hands cupped loosely, gesturing up to her confident grin with index fingers. “I’m passionate about my goals and hobbies, so I mesh pretty well with red magic. And since I spend so much time with nature, green spells are doable for me, too.”

“What about the other three colors?” Willow questioned, eyes glittering behind her glasses with anticipation. “And why does you character affect what you can do?”

“Well, blue is based on learning and curiosity, which is something else I’ve been dabbling in. White magic has a lot to do with being orderly and in tune with other people, and black is more about being - uh, ambitious and self-serving. That’s a nice way to put it, yeah.”

Condensed mana was beginning to form in the planeswalker’s open hands, now, swirls of transparent energy coalescing into being as blue and green magics traveled through her open mind and body. The gentle whorls of the growing orbs caught her audience’s eyes, leaving them to stare as she drew further power into physical being.

“As to why who you are affects what’s easiest or best for you to learn, it’s because each kind of magic has a theme to its spells. Red’s aggressive, powerful, letting you throw lots of fire and lightning around. White is a lot about buffing things up, or making them orderly. Black is all about gaining the upper hand by any means, and it tends to be a bit less… pretty, than some of the other colors.”

Luz paused as the spells in her palms finalized, a stable orb of raw green magic in one hand, and the fluid twirling of blue mana in the other. Eyeing her audience for a moment longer, she shuffled forward on her knees, depositing the ball of verdant emerald into Willow Park’s outstretched hands and giving the sapphire sphere to Eda as the older witch followed suit.

“Green mana has to do with nature and growth, with a lot of it based on connecting with and summoning critters to help you out. Blue on the other hand is a lot less physical, more about touching people’s minds and messing with reality in fun ways. Every color’s got its strengths and weaknesses, but that’s the gist of what you’ll probably see from them.”

Willow was cupping her orb of mana like a newborn child, gazing with wonder at its pulsing core. The Owl Lady however was much less gentle, lightly prodding and rolling the reactive ball of magic caught between her pale hands as she tested its limits. The sight brought a smile to Luz’s face – she’d guessed pretty well about who would take best to what.

“Now that’s really interesting and all,” The older witch began, eyes not leaving her captured blob of magic. “But how do we turn that into viable spells? Just – wing it, or something?”

Luz shrugged, folding her empty hands in her lap as she relaxed under the gentle ebb and flow of passing mana in the air around her.

“Sometimes you learn through tutors, who give you an idea of how to feel and shape things with your mind. Other times, you just go at it and think really hard about what you want to occur until you can force the magic to work with you. After I… had to leave my first set of teachers, I got a lot of it down through trial and error, or bugging people I met to help me test out new stuff. As far as I know, if you can dump power into the spell and have a decent idea of what you want, you can get just about anything to happen – and the more landmarks or terrains you can connect with, the more mana you can draw in.

“But first!”

Luz leapt to her feet, startling the witches from their enchantment with the gifted portions of power.

“We need to get you both acquainted with the sources of mana here, if you want to actually do anything. That little bit I gave you is to figure out what you should be thinking and feeling when you’re trying to connect to a big font of magic.”

She guided the younger witch away from their cliffside perch by the elbow, leaving Willow standing at the darkening tree line.

“Once you guys are hooked up to the mana here,” Luz announced loudly, standing between her two students. “We can start working on how to actually use it. But you gotta feel the land first, so – meditation time!”

It brought an easy grin to her face, hearing the twin groans of mild aggravation at that statement. Ah, how it felt to be the master this time, making her poor groveling learners go through the same tedious – if necessary – first steps she had once struggled with.

“Just give me a holler if you want some advice. I’ll be doing some stuff of my own over here!”

At that, Luz descended to her knees once more, eyes slipping closed as she aligned her breathing with the pulse of magical currents across the Isles.

She could feel the pathways magic took here with relative ease, the bursting potential of such a vibrant world overflowing into its people and surroundings. So much of her lower-level interactions with magic were done subconsciously, the formidable pull of a planeswalker’s instincts that she had a difficult time verbalizing, but Luz loved her casual relationship with the mana of the multiverse. She didn’t need to be some megalomaniac trying to rule the entirety of reality – her goals these days were simple, really.

Discover more about the worlds around her. Make friends, and try to hold onto them as best she could. Find a way home to her waiting mother.

Easy-peasy, at least in theory. But if she didn’t strive to make more connections, learn as much as she could – there was no hope of her ever returning to Earth.

With determination growing in her mind, Luz reached out to the wider Boiling Isles through her senses.

She could feel the fizzle of distant, untapped magics burning through the skies, the wild variety of terrains and people inhabiting the islands of reclaimed bone creating a kaleidoscope of color. It wasn’t always easy to detect new sources and ley lines of natural mana, but the connection to the forests and deep seas encasing the Isles that Luz had already established gave her some capacity to suss out those hidden nodules of magicka. Well beyond her reach grew upswells of tranquil white mana wafting off the plains, while sickly roots of greedy black magic reached out towards her wandering mind from further afar.

The closest source of untouched magic, however, came from the sweeping arch of the dead giant’s kneecap, where Luz had spent her first night beneath the stars. She hadn’t been focused on growing her power base at the time, too wrapped up in the wonder of exploring a new world and the burning frustration of remaining so far from Earth. But now with her mind unclouded, the grand peaks of imperious mountains bursting from the titanic leg bones called to her passionate emotions, tantalizing in their potential for harnessing the most ferocious aspects of nature itself.

Luz wouldn’t be able to properly connect to such an outlet at her current distance, being forced to rely on planes once traveled to fuel her red magics. However, maybe Eda could be convinced to make a trip up the slopes? The Owl Lady struck her as someone who might hold some interest in the raw destruction of flames and electricity.

On that note…

Her eyes reopened, letting her immersion in the latticework of passing magics fade from focus as Luz turned to see how the witches were fairing at connecting with nature. Both of them were seated before their elements of interest, Eda facing the sea stretching across the horizon while Willow gazed into the shadows of the evening forest. Both looked like they were a tad uncertain, expressions turning over in concentration and annoyance as they sought the sensations she had described to them, mana samples held tightly.

What could she do to help them focus on what she now understood instinctually…?

Feeling a flash of inspiration, Luz stood once more, walking back towards the house as she called out to the other present occupant.

“Hey, Hooty! Could you do me a quick favor?”

The house demon cracked his black eyes open, gazing down at the hopeful girl.

“Sure, Luz! Whatcha need? It looks like Eda and Willow are gonna pop something if they stare any harder at those balls you gave them.”

“Could you grab my pack from upstairs, the one I came in with? I have a few souvenirs that might make things easier for the ladies with their magic lessons.”

“Can do!” He singsonged, stretching from the frame of his door and ascending to the upper windows of the Owl House. “Be right back!”

In short order the bird creature returned with her pack, Luz throwing a quick “Thanks!” over her shoulder as she moved back to her students, rummaging through the satchel for some older sentimental stuff. She might’ve lost a good amount of the items she’d cared for over the years, but Luz had managed to retain some of the smaller trinkets that had once been gifted to her in an effort to assist magical lessons. Where were… aha!

She went to check on Eda first, the pale woman angrily squashing her gob of blue magic between her hands while aggravated mutters on the wind reached the girl’s ears.

“Any luck?” Luck questioned rhetorically, already having a decent feeling of what the answer would be.

“No,” The Owl Lady growled, palming the sphere in her grasp like a recalcitrant crystal ball. “I keep getting – flashes of what it seemed like you meant earlier, but it won’t stop slipping away. Not quite sure what I’m doing wrong, kid.”

“Well…” She drew the single syllable out, fiddling with tool in hand. “For as weird as it might sound, thinking really hard at blue magic doesn’t always work. Sometimes you’ve gotta go with the flow, you know? Put your mind to something, and work the magic into it.” The planeswalker stooped down, placing a small knot of carved wooden blocks and tinkling metal chains in one of Eda’s hands.

“This is a puzzle toy that one of my tutors gave me to chew through while I was getting the hang of blue spells. Try to figure it out while you’re focusing on the mana in the air, see if you make any headway.”

“Hmm… alright, I guess.” The witch seemed somewhat hesitant to switch her focus to a perceived distraction, but relented shortly. “I’ll call you back over if I figure something out.”

Luz nodded at her statement, moving to the border of the tree line as the woman pondered her new outlet. Willow’s lesson would probably be a bit more straightforward, but that was blue mana for you: a pain in the butt to get a grasp of at first, but unbelievably useful once you knew how to get it going.

The younger witch was staring at the foliage surrounding the clearing, working the fingers of a free hand gently into the loose soil she sat on, eyes narrowed as she considered the plant life before her. She looked up from her pondering as Luz approached, giving her a small, if strained, smile.

“Sorry Luz, I’m having a real time of it trying to do what you said. It’s weird too,” Willow frowned, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “The magic I know best is working with plants, making them grow big and healthy. But I guess I’m so used to the structure of spell circles that this kinda spiritual stuff is just…” Her hand left the patch of ground she was worrying at, giving a vague gesture towards the treetops above.

“Yeah, I get it.” Luz gave a sympathetic nod, searching within her bags once more. “Nature’s supposed to be pretty easy to get, you know? So doing lots of goofy stuff like ‘meditating’ and ‘feeling’ the magic doesn’t come easily.” Her response elicited a giggle of amusem*nt from the dark-haired witch, the girl’s bright green eyes tracking the mage’s movements curiously.

“But even if the method is different, that experience is important.” She found her item of interest within the sack, her tanned hand opening to reveal a small packet wrapped tightly with twine. “You know what you need to get the plant growing, how to make it larger and stronger without overdoing it. So, seeing as that’s the case…”

The seal on the parcel came apart with the flick of a finger, crumbles of soil from another world slipping free as Luz revealed her prize – a handful of small ovular seeds in a gooey case, nestled amongst rich fertilizer, the faint remnants of the enchantment preserving the new life fading into airborne wisps.

“Here’s what I want you to try, same as Eda: put your mind to getting something done. See if you can get these to sprout, but only with green mana, no cheating with the stuff you already know. I’ll even sweeten the deal!” Luz gave her a winning grin, depositing the prize in the girl’s open hand. “If you can get them growing, you can keep them. They’re a kind of fruit called tomatoes – I’m not too familiar with the things growing on the Boiling Isles, but they’re pretty tasty. Healthy, too.”

She didn’t mention that the variants of tomatoes from her homeworld were a tad different from the Ravnican crops that Willow was holding, but what the witch didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Really? Thank you, Luz.” The other girl gave the gift a surprised look, carefully inspecting the tiny seeds in the dying light. “I can’t say I’m familiar with that kind of plant, no. And they’re even edible? I’ll have to see if I can transplant them to my garden back home – maybe my fathers could use them for dinner once they get bigger.”

Willow seemed to hesitate a moment, her expression growing more guarded as she gave her magic tutor a carefully blank look.

“You know, it’s kind of weird. I know every plant on the next three islands in the chain, and I’ve never heard of something called ‘tomatoes.’ Tatos, maybe, but not this specific plant.” There was a glint in her eye as she continued, Luz’s gut giving a little tumble at the curiosity in her gaze. “And your clothes too – they’re pretty different from the stuff around here. A lot of witches like cloaks and all that, but it’s still pretty common for girls to wear dresses or leggings, you know. Not really actual pants, or separate shirts…” She gave a brief pause in her ruminations, before pushing forward with her questions.

“Where did you say you came from again? I know you’re human, so you probably weren’t born on the Isles, but… where were you learning this kind of magic? You must’ve been staying somewhat close. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard of anybody coming from overseas in my lifetime.”

Luz stood upright abruptly, a nervous laugh barking from her chest as she quickly repacked her bags. This was exactly the kind of thing she was afraid of being asked, and there wasn’t much in the way of established etiquette for planeswalkers when it came to discussing the greater multiverse. It seemed that by general consensus, not mentioning you were from another world was the standing school of thought, with only a select few people being made aware of just how small they really were in the grand scheme of things.

History had long since proven that giving people ideas about traveling across the wider expanse of existence wasn’t always the best course of action. With that in mind Luz decided on deflection, and she would save this internal debate for another day.

“S-Sorry Willow, but you’re gonna need a few more magic lessons with me before you can unlock my mysterious backstory. Maybe take me out to dinner too, before you start grilling me.” Nope, too far, shut up before you say something stupider.

Willow at least seemed to find her response amusing, giving a light giggle as she accepted the current lack of answers to her questions, shaking her head in good-natured defeat.

“Alright, alright, I get it. Sorry to disappoint, but I’ll probably have to take a pass on that date. Not really my style if you catch my drift. Guess I’ll have to figure out some other way to weasel the information out of you!” The melodramatic shimmy of her raised hands, complete with explosive sigh and rolling eyes, drew a more genuine fit of chuckles from her companion.

“Well… I sure am a sucker for info dumping on friends, you know.” Luz sprawled loosely on the grass, propped up with her hands as she gave Willow a shy little smile.

“That’s perfect, since I’m always in the market for new pals!” Willow replied, returning the grin. The pair fell into companiable silence once more, the plant witch focusing once again on her task of mastering understanding of the local forest.

Luz tracked her progress from the corner of her eye, noting how the other girl was slowly relaxing, the distraction of their conversation settling her nerves as she took in a deep breath. The girl held it quietly, waiting, waiting – and released the air in a whoosh, perfectly synchronized with the brush of the breeze rustling through the woods.

She didn’t dare interrupt now, full attention on the meditating woman before her as Willow’s breathing fell in step with the light gusts of air rattling the leaves above. Luz couldn’t tell who was influencing who – were the air currents and creaking branches directing the girl’s inhalation, or following the pattern she set? There was a sense of anticipation in the air, and so she held the silence, transferring her gaze to the seedlings cupped closely against Willow’s chest, the same as her steadily thrumming orb of mana.

It felt like hours that they sat, motionless, before a twitch of motion in the young witch’s palm caught Luz’s eye. To her delight, the plants were swelling with new, unnatural life, tender roots spreading from cracking pods into the sample of black dirt held in hand. The process was slow but steady, the trickle of green mana widening to a true flow as Luz’s companion willed the freshly spawned life to obey her will, the bare beginnings of stalks pointing skywards for the crops to taste their first glimpse of light.

“Willow.” The hushed awe of her voice must have alerted the girl to her success, waking her with a shocked blink from the trance of instinctive spellcasting, even as Willow glanced down at her clutched gift. She let out a gasp of shocked wonder at the sight.

“I – Luz, I did it! I saw the entire forest for just a moment, every plant and animal, and it was just – so huge. So… different! I’ve never felt magic like that before.” She squealed with glee at her victory, barely even noticing the orb of condensed mana fading away in her hand as she ran gentle fingers over the sprouting buds of foreign plant life.

“Good job, Willow!” Luz crowed, joy swelling at her newfound friend’s success. “You did even better than I expected. And now that you’ve connected with the forest, every time afterwards will be a little easier and faster. Once you’ve got the basics down, you’ll be able to draw on more mana for bigger spells, too, from here and further out. Heck, it should also help you if you wanna try it with different colors of magic too.”

The plump witch caught her in a one-armed bear hug, the two celebrating her victory even as she voiced another question on her mind.

“What changed though? I wasn’t doing anything different, just – focusing on the sound of the woods, and making my breathing line up, and it all seemed to… click!”

“Magic can be…” Luz began, the gears of her mind turning over as a new theory came to the forefront. “Pretty obtuse to work with, at times. Some of its symbolic, or tied up in metaphors and themes. Green magic’s biggest thing is growth – growing stronger, and smarter, or even maybe… your connections to others?” She suggested, wiggling her eyebrows at the other girl with a smile.

Willow gave a hearty laugh at that, shaking her head disbelievingly even as she gazed with adoration at the sight of her success, sitting merrily in her palm.

Buoyed by the witch’s achievement, the pair moved away from the edge of the clearing, going to check on the older woman still sat before the cliffside as she fought with Luz’s puzzle knot in one hand.

“I heard a whole bunch of screaming and shouting over there,” Eda stated absentmindedly, attention on the challenge before her. “Nobody was getting eaten by a demon, right? I’m not really feeling like playing at animal control.”

“Eda, I did it!” Willow brandished her small sprouts towards her mentor, finally dragging her attention away from the toy. “I connected with the forest, and got Luz’s plants to grow! Watch.”

The girl focused her attention on the humming thread of mana still strung between her mind and the land itself, closing her eyes in concentration as the sprigs swelled upward, growing an extra couple of visible inches for the Owl Lady to inspect.

“Huh! Nice work, girly. Not a circle in sight either.” Eda gave her student a pleased smile, frustrations forgotten for the moment in pride at her apprentice’s accomplishment.

“Any progress on your front, Eda?” Luz prodded her, looking down at the partially solved puzzle in hand.

The Owl Lady groaned in resurgent irritation, giving the puzzle a scathing look.

“I have been fighting with this thing for the better part of an hour now, and I’ve gotten all but one part of it figured out.” She pointed a lengthy nail at a particular segment of the object’s wooden core. “I can tell that there’s another layer inside of there, with some loose shifting pieces – but they don’t budge, no matter what I do.”

“You’ve almost got it,” Luz commented encouragingly. “That was the big hang-up for me, too. I’ll give you a hint – how do you move something without touching it? That’s what my teacher told me to think about.”

Her head turned to track the rapidly disappearing sunlight on the horizon, the warm indigo of the skyline fading into deeper blacks and blues for the night.

“Why don’t we come back to this tomorrow, when it’s brighter? Blue’s the hardest kinda magic to figure out, but it’s got a lot of flexibility to make up for it. I can always rustle up another blob of mana for you to test in the future.”

The Owl Lady gave one last aggravated shake of the toy, before relenting with a put-upon sigh.

“Fine, I’ll sleep on it and try again tomorrow. Gotta prove to you kids that you can teach an old witch new tricks, after all.”

The trio packed up for the evening after Luz dispelled the concentration of magic, placing Willow’s healthy new growths into a set of old planters Eda had lying around from her pile of human refuse. Luz wished the girl a goodnight from the porch step as the Owl Lady flew them into the sky on her staff, wrangling a promise to visit when she was able for another hangout and magic session. She watched their shrinking forms for a moment before stepping back inside, wishing Hooty and King a good night as she made to retire.

A nice, lengthy shower after a hard day’s work just about put her to sleep on the spot. Fire magic may do a decent job of maintaining heat when you bathe in a bubbling river far from civilization, but it had nothing on decent plumbing. Hair and teeth brushed, sleeping clothes thrown on, and Luz was out like a light before she could even be certain Eda had returned safely.

The dreams came for her once again, details crisper and more defined than before.

The Titan’s spine stretched into the infinite once more, but now it was teeming with uncanny life. Mosses and vines coated the crumbling vertebrae, while tremendous trees sprouted from unseen soil far below. Their branches reached towards the white void of the sky, swaying in a nonexistent breeze.

There were no calls of animals, nor gusts of air to move the plants growing here. And yet they swayed and twisted in ethereal winds, utterly silent, a disturbing mockery of the forests found on the Boiling Isles. The fog was less encompassing now, tendrils of mist wrapping in and out of the foliage like a parody of something living.

Luz continued onwards, as she had done before.

When the titanic skull loomed above her, its surface seemed to writhe with organic growth. Creepers and more slick patches of lichens covered its lower half, a massive trunk not unlike the oakwoods of Earth swelling from the void of an eye socket.

Luz fought the winds picking up around her, anchoring herself by hand to the bones as air blasted from the gaping chasm of the Titan’s mouth for a second time. She desperately tried to make out any sense of words or feelings from the gust, but the only sound she could detect was a slithering hint of whispers on the edge of detection, unknowable murmurs in alien voices growing by the moment.

The planeswalker found herself tumbling to the invisible ground far below before she could make out any one call, the vague feeling of being seen by a gargantuan presence prickling her senses while the void soared up to meet her.

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

Before Luz had even really realized it, her first week on the Boiling Isles had come and gone like the wind.

The comfortably domestic environment of the boisterous Owl House was a far cry from her time spent around campfires and huddling under aging ruins on and off for years. It took a few nights for Luz to adjust to having no stars over her as she slept, especially considering the dreams that dogged her evenings.

The ones involving the Titan of the Boiling Isles had only happened twice, but more commonplace nightmares quickly moved to fill the void. She spent every other night waking in a cold sweat, feeling grasping limbs and ragged screams chasing her into miserable wakefulness. Luz did her best not to wake her housemates with her whimpering after that first morning, and so spent some time thumbing through some of Eda’s worn collection of novels whenever dark memories interrupted her rest.

It did little to shut the nightmares out, but she still felt better when she would return to slumber.

She’d thought herself long past such phantom reminders, but evidently her attempts at forming new friendships left things a bit more – raw, than she would have expected.

In the mornings following, the Owl Lady proved quite creative when it came to finding work around the property to get done between the four residents. There never seemed to be an end to the list of items to be sorted and cleaned, the rooms to be cleared of dust or clutter, and batches of potions to be delivered promptly for nearby customers. It remained an appreciated, if exhausting, distraction from lingering night terrors.

While her guests handled the variety of unending chores needed to keep the Owl House up and running, Eda herself spent multiple hours a day pondering the puzzle Luz had given her, utterly determined to parse out the secrets to accessing the tides of blue magic surrounding them. Luz often left her sitting by the seaside cliff, condensed mana in hand, as the older woman muttered and fretted over the stubborn puzzle box.

The day she finally solved her conundrum, Luz had stepped outside with ceramic plate and glass in hand, a sandwich prepared for the distracted witch while she pondered her target. She called out to the Owl Lady, coming to a stop shortly before the woman so as to not startle her host.

“Lunchtime, Eda!” The mage crooned sweetly. “I don’t know what this is from your fridge, but it looks like bologna so I went ahead and cut some up for you!”

“Thanks, kiddo. You can just drop it here.” Her hand waved flippantly towards the grassy patch of ground she was sat upon, eyes solely on the puzzle that had her enraptured.

Luz hesitated a moment before depositing the meal next to the pale woman, taking a seat on the far side of the plate.

“Still nothing?” She felt terrible that she wasn’t of anymore assistance. Sure, Luz had struggled with blue mana when she was getting started, but that had been her first attempt at harnessing the supernatural. Eda had been making use of magic her entire life, practically, and she knew it was incredibly frustrating to fight with something so similar yet so far from what one was familiar with.

“I’m close, I can feel it.” The Owl Lady’s optimism was undiminished, even in light of her irritation. “I’ve been waking up and tasting sea salt every day, and can tell right when the tide’s gonna hit in the morning. Something’s different today though, I just – know.”

Well, that was encouraging, if a bit strange. Normally one needed to be actively channeling magic to have so much sensory feedback from the locations that were supplying their power, and Luz had never felt anything like that from lands she conferred with if she were on a separate plane. Then again, Eda wielded magic with the ease and confidence of a decades-long veteran, spells as comparable to her as breathing. She knew the witch was reasonably powerful, so maybe the side-effects were just influencing her oddly?

“Ugh. All of this thinking’s got me starving. What’d you say you made for lunch?”

“Some kinda meat for sandwiches. Came in a cylinder, if that rings any bells?”

“Oh yeah, that cut of hellboar I picked up in town. Great.” To Luz’s surprise, the witch flicked her wrist blindly at her side, leaving the orb of mana to rest in her lap, and – the sandwich floated into the air. Without a spell circle.

Eda took a quick bite, letting the entrée drop back to the plate with a smack as she hummed thoughtfully.

“Yum, is that some of those ‘tomatoes’ you gave Willow that I’m tasting? They’re pretty good, might have to ask her if I can get a trimming to grow myself.”

“Uh. Eda?”

The woman gave another dismissive twirl of her hand.

“Hold on a sec, kid. I think I’m having an epiphany.”

Luz could feel the crackle in the air now, mana flowing in and around the Owl Lady’s form, bending to her will as she squinted intensely at the core of the wooden puzzle knot.

“Can’t touch the inside with the locks, can’t knock it into place – gotta move it without my hands, or my spell circles. With my mind.” She lowered her free hand to the trinket, fingers pinched above it. “Shouldn’t be possible, but I can feel it. Just have to -” The tips of her fingers closed, and the toy slid cleanly apart, its internal lock opened wide. “…Change things so they fit.”

Eda sat there for a moment, motionless, before rocketing to her feet with a cheer, orb of captured mana fading away quietly. Luz followed her lead, giving her own little cry of joy as the witch twirled around, lambasting the puzzle that had kept her confuddled for so long.

“Ha! In your face, you damn inanimate object! Guess who’s the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles? That’s right – it’s the Owl Lady! A whole new type of magic, and I still got it.”

Luz had to laugh at the boundless enthusiasm, stifling her chuckles against a palm.

“Yeah, you sure did Eda. Though, uh, I think you might’ve had it when you lifted your sandwich to your mouth without your hands.”

The older woman ceased spinning, a look of disbelief on her face.

“What? No way I did that! It’s been an entire week, and I couldn’t get anything to – wait.” She swished a hand towards her ground-bound meal in a ‘come hither’ gesture, and the sandwich levitated to meet her. “Huh. I guess I did.” A vicious smile broke free. “Nice!”

The planeswalker caught Eda in a hug without warning, one which the woman returned after a moment’s pause, her ferocious grin softening into a warmer expression.

“Now that we finally got the baby stuff outta the way, you can start teaching me all about the bigger, more fun spells.” The Owl Lady clenched her fist, bringing the laden kitchenware floating upwards, alongside the discarded puzzle knot pieces. “But first, let’s go show off to the boys!”

The rest of the day was spent happily exploring Eda’s newfound grasp on multiversal magics by lifting everything she owned at least once, and a few things she didn’t, such as King’s diminutive form. Hooty was happy to offer congratulations on her breakthrough considering he wasn’t being tossed liberally around by the witch, who had taken to telepathically juggling Owlbert and the King of Demons for a spell, leaving Luz rolling on the floor in hysterics at the level of distress coming from the small pair.

They celebrated that night with an enormous dinner, in which the Owl Lady insisted on handling every cooking implement with her mind. There were a few near misses in regards to grease fires and boiling water, but all in all the spirits of the household remained high as they chowed down on Eda’s supper offerings.

The approach of the following weekend brought with it a return of Willow Park, who was ecstatic at the success her mentor had found in attempting foreign spells, the two babbling excitedly over the potential utility of their respective magical breakthroughs. The plant witch had even been kind enough to return with a potable sample of tomato seedlings for Eda to begin growing, the magically enforced growth of the plants a stunning success on her part. Apparently, witches had something akin to phones called ‘scrolls,’ and the Owl Lady had thought to ask ahead of time for some clippings. At any rate, she had already moved onto experimenting with other samples she was cultivating in her family’s greenhouse, and her fathers thoroughly enjoyed the addition to the family diet.

However, the main event of her visit was not the report from home, or the work that needed doing once she was present. Instead, the major milestone of Willow coming to the Owl House that week was the guest she had brought with her, one Gus Porter – the youngest member of his graduating class, illusionist extraordinaire, son of the Isles’ most famous reporter, and a fanatic of all things relating to humans.

When Luz first spoke with the diminutive boy, he had nearly keeled over on the spot from excitement. Hooty had let the pair in, and the short male witch – with his close-cropped hair and richly dark skin tone – made for quite the interesting sight himself, though he appeared utterly enthralled with Luz’s presence in the kitchen.

“Oh. My. Titan. You weren’t kidding Willow.” His eyes were sparkling with joy, hands clasped before him. “An actual, living human here, on the Boiling Isles! Somebody pinch me, I don’t think I can take this cruel joke anymore if I’m dreaming.”

Willow gave a snort, smacking him on the shoulder blade as she walked into the Owl House, placing her offering of young tomato plants on the counter for Eda’s review.

“Stop being so dramatic, Gus.” She turned to the bemused mage, giving her an apologetically amused smile. “He used to be the head and founder of our high school’s Human Appreciation Society. They’d have meetings discussing all sorts of stuff about your world and people, so… get ready for a lot of questions. Most of what he knows is probably wrong, anyway.”

“Wuh – hey! I’ll have you know I am the most prolific collector of human relics on the Isles, thank you, and that my knowledge even rivals that of the Owl Lady. Not only that, but I’m one of her best customers!” Gus swelled with pride at his boast, gesturing to the idling witch who was currently inspecting her newly received crops.

“You do buy a whole lot of… stuff from my stand kid, I’ll give you that.” Eda turned the small pots of soil over, inspecting their occupants as she gave a carefully nonchalant response. “Gotta wonder how much of that is your parents’ money, though. D’you even have a job?”

“That is… entirely irrelevant and I am not going to dignify it with a response.” Gus quailed before the unimpressed look directed his way. “Um, Miss powerful Owl Lady. Ma’am.”

Eda snorted, shaking her head in amusem*nt as she placed her spoils gently back on the countertop.

“Whatever floats your boat, shorty. Why don’t you and Luz take this conversation to the living room while Willow and I talk shop? Got a few things to go over for the day.”

The pair retired to the sitting room, taking up residence on the overstuffed sofa as the two witches discussed some item of business in lows voices on the far side of the kitchen. Luz had little hope of actually hearing anything being said, however, as Gus was now excitedly talking her ear off.

Evidently the Boiling Isles education regarding humanity was, to put simply, incredibly poor. Misconceptions were rife in every subject from biology to culture and technology. The young witch had boundless heaps of questions about Luz’s physicality and knowledge of random household items, making her giggle at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

“So humans don’t have gills? Or an inner row of fangs for consuming prey?”

“I’m… pretty sure you’re thinking of sharks, buddy. I can’t naturally breathe underwater, and my teeth are just as flat and single-row as yours are, for the most part.”

“Okay, okay. So no flight either?”

“Ha ha, nope.”

“Dang! How do you get around then without flying or swimming, do you just… walk everywhere? Mattholomule once told me that humans roam around on top of giant metal mounts, but that sounded like a load of phooey.”

“He probably meant cars. They’re similar to carriages made of metal, and are powered by devices called ‘engines.’ It burns a liquid fuel inside, which produces a lot of force to spin the wheels – at least, that’s a really basic understanding of it. I’m not a mechanic, sorry.”

“That’s still really fascinating! Now, how about those things I’ve heard called ‘toasters?’ Are they projectile weapons? I think Eda was actually selling some once!”

The discussion went on in a similar vein for minutes, and then into hours, the other two magic users bustling about as Gus pelted Luz with endless queries. She offered to assist them at one point, only to be gently rebuffed, with Eda telling her to help Mr. Porter work his curiosity from his system. It wasn’t that she minded the friendly banter, but it made her feel uneasy, skimping a workday to play Twenty Questions on steroids while her companions were engaged in labor.

Eventually, however, the topic turned to Luz’s magical skills, and how they fell outside the expectations of the average witch due to her species. She gave Gus a short rundown on the information she had previously shared with Eda and Willow, speaking of the colors of mana and how their use was generally influenced by a person’s character. The boy soaked up her knowledge like an eager sponge, surprising her with insightful commentary about the topic, considering his prior questions had simply been a stream of consciousness.

However, Luz had developed some curiosity of her own.

“If witches don’t use mana as far as you understand it,” She began slowly. “Then how do you cast spells? And why does it have to be with a spell circle, of all things?”

Gus perked up, delighted to share some of his own expertise.

“Well, witches have an organ attached to our hearts known as a ‘bile sac.’ It pumps magical essence through our bodies, and works kinda like a person’s general stamina for doing intensive things. We can use it up and strain ourselves if we get overworked from casting lots of spells, and generally taking naps and eating healthy is required to keep it in shape.” He paused in his lengthy explanation, a hand cupping his chin as he considered something. “If humans don’t have anything like that, it would explain why they can’t use magic as witches know it. And because the spells you know are more of a mental thing that interacts with the environment, that’d be why you can cast them without a circle.

“As for why we use spell circles?” Gus shrugged helplessly. “I dunno! It’s always been like that, even before the coven system, as far as I know.”

“Not – huff – entirely true, kiddo.” Eda interjected, dropping a heavy wooden crate of discarded human memorabilia on the nearby countertop. “Before the Savage Ages, records say witches used to make do with glyphs and runes to cast the same spells, which didn’t take a bile sac. Not sure when things got changed up there, but if I had to make a bet, I’d say those glyphs probably ran off of the mana that Luz taught us about. And, without a reason to keep up with all that…”

“It fell out of favor for the easier form, which is why my magic is different.” Luz completed for her, nodding slowly as she mulled over this new information.

“Wow, this is amazing.” Gus bounced up and down in joy, shaking the entire couch in his excitement. “Meeting a human, and getting to learn all about your culture, and on top of that you rediscovered lost, ancient magics. That is so cool!”

Luz had to chuckle at the unbridled awe in his voice. Is this what having a younger brother was like?

“There’s one last thing that’s been bugging me, though,” He continued inquisitively, looking over the mage. “If you’re a human, and you know all of this forgotten magical lore and the like, where did you come from?”

She froze on the couch, her smile growing strained at the question.

“I know you’re from the Human Realm as, like, your home world,” Gus clarified, threading his fingers together as he leaned forward. “But humans still don’t know any magic like that, as far as we’re aware. And neither do the Boiling Isles, apparently! So where’d you go that taught you all this cool stuff? Somewhere on the islands that nobody knows about?”

“How, uh, do you know I didn’t just – find out on my own?” Luz couldn’t help the poorly-phrased response, panicking at being reminded of her internal debate from earlier in the week. She still hadn’t reached a conclusion, but outright lying wasn’t looking very attractive, especially since she liked her new companions, and had to live with any falsities she might sell them…

The two missed Eda and Willow sharing a quiet look in the kitchen, even as they stayed silent for the moment.

“Nooot very likely, I think.” Gus gave her a concerned look, his head tilting to the side. “I didn’t mean to make you upset, Luz. Sorry about that. It’s just hard to believe you found all of this without any help, even if you are decent spellcaster…”

“Frankly, I’ve been thinking the same thing.” Eda butted back into the conversation, dusting her hands off as she gave Luz an unreadable look. “Listen, kid – I definitely don’t mind you staying here. And I know there’s some things I’m not gonna bug you about right away. But you’ve gotta admit, your whole situation is pretty weird, and I think we’d all love to hear where you were getting up to this kinda crap without – being found and hauled off to jail.”

The Owl Lady paused for a moment, looking as if she wanted to say something different, before giving herself a shake and continuing on.

“If you’re worried about us ratting you out to the Emperor? I wouldn’t be. Nobody in this house is a snitch, and we all stand to get screwed just as much as you if we go running our mouths in front of the wrong people.”

“You don’t have to tell us if you’re really uncomfortable with it, Luz.” Willow added softly, ignoring the flat look sent her way by the Owl Lady. “But… we’re just really curious, y’know? It’s all so strange and exciting, learning about this new – er, old – kind of magic.”

It would be… nice, to have friends she could confide herself in. It was a lonely life sometimes, hopping between worlds without telling anybody the full scope of your abilities and the things you’d done, only occasionally finding another planeswalker to chat with. On top of that, half the ones she’d met or known of were nuts, or just crazy powerful, neither of which were things Luz wanted to tussle with.

“The truth is…” Maybe it was time to take a chance. They might even be able to help her in the quest for home. “Honestly, I don’t think you guys would believe it. It’s a little fantastical.”

“Pfft! Come on, Luz.” Eda blew air out her mouth disbelievingly, stretching her arms over her head to work out the kinks from lifting heavy boxes. “Just spit it out already, if you’re gonna tell us.”

“Okay, then.”

Here goes.

“I’m what’s known as a planeswalker – somebody who was born with the ability to travel between different worlds in the multiverse at will. There’s a lot more than just the Demon and Human Realms – I’ve traveled to at least a dozen over the years, and every single one of them has had different sentient peoples on them, including humans. My magic is the kind used everywhere else in reality, and it’s your spell circles that are new to me.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself at the confession, and awaiting her companions’ reaction.

Complete silence reigned over the room, before Eda let out a snort of laughter, making Luz pout in frustration at her disbelief.

“Alright kid, you had me going for a minute, there.” Mirth was clear in the Owl Lady’s expression, even as she folded her arms and leaned against the kitchen counter. “I’ve gotta give you credit for the story; I wasn’t expecting that one. But not once have I ever heard that there are more worlds like that, somewhere out in space or whatever. Now really, who taught you all that stuff?”

“It’s true, Eda.” Luz growled, leaping to her feet. Did they really not believe her? That was something she hadn’t imagined. “And I’ve got plenty of proof. Hooty!”

“Hiya, Luz!” The house demon snaked in through the window, giving the girl a cheerful greeting. “What can I do ya for?”

“Could you grab my bag, the same one as last time?”

“Yuppers!”

After taking a moment for retrieval, the extensive creature spat out her bag’s strap, leaving her to root through the satchel in search of her few personal mementos.

A firm drop, down onto the stained coffee table.

“My sketchbook that I’ve drawn pictures of every kind of people I’ve encountered in, and a lot of major landmarks. Enchanted to protect against wear and tear.” Slap. “A handful of mana containers and sources I know witches can’t make, since you didn’t even know what I was talking about until this week.” Smack. “A bit of crystal found only in Zendikar’s cave systems, which I’ve never seen anywhere else.” Slam. “And on top of that, a booklet on languages I’ve had to make myself because not everybody speaks English, which is apparently really common across space and time for some reason.”

The mage stood back up, taking in the dumbfounded expressions on her friends’ faces as she huffed angrily, counting off her fingertips.

“Plus, since I’ve gotten here, you’ve seen me: wear foreign clothes, trade you foreign money when Willow said no one’s come overseas in decades, use magic that’s entirely new by your reckoning, and summon two creatures from separate worlds that you didn’t even recognize. Because they aren’t found on this entire planet.” She dropped back onto the sofa, aggravated energy exhausted and leaving her feeling spent.

Gus was the first to break the frozen atmosphere following her rant, gently scooping the binder of drawings off the table and giving them a careful look-over, thumbing through the handstitched pages.

“These are really impressive, Luz.” He stated softly, eyes glued to the drawings of distant lands. He pointed down at one, fingering the figures sketched out on rough graphite. “What kind of person is this? I’ve never seen anyone like that, around here.”

She leaned over to view the page he was examining, taking a moment to recall where she had completed that image.

“That’s a merfolk I met on this crazy world called Eldraine. Everything there was straight out of a fantasy novel, and the people even had to contend with stuff like curses that made them act out or live through tropes from that genre. It was a pretty dangerous place – I didn’t stay too long.” She took a moment to retrieve the book from Gus, pointing out some of the smaller details from her work.

“See those markings? That means she was a dark undine, one of the really aggressive, man-eater types. I actually only got her to pose for this drawing ‘cuz I saved her from some hunters – and she only stuck around when I started telling her a bunch of old myths I knew as a kid. They love learning anything they can.”

Gus uttered a small sound of amazement at the explanation, grabbing the booklet once more to continue perusing her collection. The next to speak was Willow, her tone low and thoughtful.

“I thought it was really strange you’d found me any seeds I didn’t recognize, Luz.” Her hand was at her chin, eyes pointed upwards in remembrance of the prior magic lesson. “Hexside has a really good curriculum for Plant Coven work, and they quizzed us constantly on identifying species of plants so we could use or avoid them.”

The girl directed a sideways glance at the small, hearty crops she had brought for her mentor.

“We’ve got some pretty similar things that are edible, but nothing exactly matches up. And unless you somehow brought an extinct strain of something back to life…” She took a deep breath. “Then I believe you about there being other worlds – and wow, isn’t that a lot to take in.”

Luz gave a pointed look at the silent Owl Lady, eyebrows raised in question, and the woman sighed.

“Okay, you’re starting to convince me that maybe there’s something to this whole ‘multiverse’ thing, but I still think there’s ways you could fake all of this stuff. ‘Specially if you were dedicated to the story. But -” She held up a slender hand, forestalling Luz’s indignant protest. “I’ve got a method to really prove whatever you’re saying, if you wanna try it.”

Luz couldn’t help rolling her eyes.

“I’d hope I didn’t have to just to convince you, but sure. What’ve you got in mind?”

Eda strode to the center of the room, drawing a sizable circle of magic in midair that generated a coruscating ring of energy, floating over the coffee table.

“This spell will cast an illusion based on your memories of a place, person or item by skimming your mind when you stick your hand into it. Just say whatever it is aloud, and it’ll show everybody what you were talking about. Now -” The witch placed her own limb within the ring, looking to Luz. “Give me the name of a world that you know of, and I’ll say it aloud. We shouldn’t see any changes, since I’ve never been there, and as far as I know it isn’t even real.”

“…Fine. Try ‘Ravnica.’”

“Ravnica!” Eda parroted confidently, the ring of pulsing magic bobbing for a moment – only to return to its original position, with no illusion cast.

“Alright…” She retracted her limb. “Now it’s your turn. You’ll be the one taking the reins, so try and keep a clear head – it’ll be a lot easier on the picture if I don’t hold your hand the whole way.”

Luz stood from her perch, taking a step towards the spell.

“Here goes…” Her arm passed through easily, and she let out an anxious breath. “Show me the world of Zendikar.”

The spell shrank to enclose her tanned wrist, a burst of magic emitting from its center, sweeping across the room to unveil a location completely alien to the Boiling Isles in every way.

The three witches gasped in surprise, varying exclamations of shock filling the air as they stumbled back from the cliffside illusion cast onto the floor, the furniture and miscellaneous objects fading away – but Luz could only smile, breathing the fresh scents of jungles and roaring rapids in with joy.

It almost felt like home.

The illusion was impressively detailed, clearly picking up on items that she would have only subconsciously registered. Her boots crunched through the pulverized grit of the rocky cliffside they appeared to stand on, the living room transmogrified into a floating stone island only a few dozen feet in width. It was one of many mobile landmasses, a drop in the sea of flying precipices twirling slowly in the altered gravity of Zendikar.

Waterfalls the width of the house roared as they fell away into jungle miles beneath the party, an intricate dance of flying waterways borne atop the moving islands slopping over the edge of dozens of skyscapes, offset only by the field of arcane hedrons drifting betwixt the grinding mobile outcroppings. Intricate carvings in an ancient script scrawled over their surfaces, making them pulse with magics heavy enough to press down on Luz’s stunned audience, not unlike the pressure felt deep beneath the seas.

And the noise – she didn’t realize how much she’d missed the sounds of the living, breathing world until only silence had filled its space.

Stone ground and tumbled loudly throughout the sky as islands slammed into one another, shearing off immense slivers of rock to pitch down into the lush gorge beneath. Gushing rapids thundered dully out of sight, above and below. Countless animals screamed and cawed at one another, a cacophony of life filling the air as great beasts lumbered across skylanes, and clouds of wheeling jungle fowl dipped and dived between floating mountains.

It was so much to digest – so very alive, it made Luz feel like she could take on the entire world. She basked in the breaking morning sun that ripped through the canopy of expansive jungle, the phantasmal warmth on her skin utterly delectable.

Just as Luz remembered, before the happy times came to a close. She really had been missing this experience.

“Holy sh*t,” Eda breathed from behind her, making Luz turn to look at her huddled companions. They seemed utterly enraptured at the view around them, drinking in every detail they could of the alien world, no small amount of fear warring with curiosity.

The Owl Lady looked totally poleaxed, dazed by the illusion cast into her living room.

“This is what I was talking about – and here’s Zendikar, one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen in the entire multiverse.” Her comment was intentionally cheeky, but her overly bright expression softened in light of the true wonder on her housemates’ faces. “The whole plane is alive, filled with jungles and animals and elementals, spawned from the giant storm at its center: the Roil.”

She kneeled at the edge of the island they stood one, one hand running reverently through the crushed rock cushioning their feet.

“I spent a year or so here, learning how to live in the rainforests and navigate all of the huge ravines and mountains. Actually, let me try something…” She stood once more, as a thought occurred to her – something to truly wow her tagalongs. Luz’s eyes slipped shut, a vision rippling to life in her mind’s eye. There was one more detail she’d missed so dearly of her temporary sanctuary from the multiverse.

The scene shifted, flowing into a morass of colors as the enchantment reacted to her thoughts. The quartet found their view of the wider jungles obscured, a thick brush of jungle foliage surrounding their position, barring the artificial clearing dominating the center of Luz’s projected memory.

“These guys were my first friends I found after… leaving home. They helped me get back on my feet, showed me the ropes so I didn’t get eaten by any giant predators or squished by floating rocks.”

A bustling camp was spread throughout the jungle floor, rawhide lean-tos and larger tents filling the cleared path. The trappings of a simplistic life on the move were easily visible, bone and metal molded into tools for hunting or climbing, leather garb and sewn packs scattered about. The most captivating detail, however, were the people occupying the encampment.

The Kor were tall and lean, much greater in height than the average human or witch. They swayed gracefully like reeds before a windstorm, every motion calm and conserved as the nomads worked throughout their mobile village. Each of them was engaged in some mundane necessity, sweat glistening on their albino flesh as pointed ears swiveled back and forth, the sounds of laughter and conversation rumbling lowly amongst the smoking fire pits.

It was like seeing a ghost come tearing through a wall right for her, but Luz batted the thought away with a spike of anxious nerves, her breath hitching. She was fine, everything was fine, they would simply explore the camp and leave. Nothing more was necessary to make her point.

Eda looked rather spooked herself, her hand passing through the phantom of a washerwoman as the illusion strode by her.

“They…” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I look just like them. Is – is there some kind of connection…?”

“Not as far as I know,” Luz laid a steadying hand on the witch’s shoulder, helping ground them both in reality. “The Kor are fairly exclusive to this plane, though I heard some rumors from other ‘walkers that you could find them in some secluded places.”

“This is amazing, Luz,” Gus breathed, darting between tents to peer inside at the primitive footprint of a foreign people. “You lived in this village with them? What was that like?”

“Well, it was a lot of work, I can tell you that much.” Luz laughed, relieved for the distraction of his and Willow’s continued amazement as they wandered around the phantom camp. “Most of the time though, I was -”

A voice like a whip cut through their conversation.

“Training time, girl. On the double!”

Every observer’s eye turned about to track a single woman; her warrior’s garb unmistakable. Thick leather padding coated her lithe form, belying the packed musculature hidden beneath as she hefted a pair of poles on one shoulder, brow furrowed over her milky white eyes while she looked towards the center of camp.

“Si, si, sorry Chieftess. I’m coming!”

The ghost of Luz’s past emerged from the crowded enclosure, ducking awkwardly around tribesmen as she skidded to a stop, panting, before her adoptive Chief.

Her phantom was frozen eternally at the fourteen years of age she’d been when her spark ignited almost half a decade ago, dragging Luz from Earth and straight into the belly of the jungle beast. She still retained the clothes she’d arrived in, now being worn ragged by the passage of time and sloppily stitched back into serviceability. The young Luz Noceda had none of the poise or muscle of her current self, being rather wimpy by most standards – but the ghost of the teen still stood gamely at attention, awaiting her orders.

“Sparring, today. With me.” The camp leader sounded like she was gargling stones, the bulging edge of a healing scar snaking up her collarbone and into view.

“Yeesss, Chieftess.” The phantom sighed, resigning herself to another bout of being battered into the dirt by her merciless instructor. Without another word, the pair set off for the edge of the village, Luz taking one of the carved wooden branches from her mentor as they disappeared from sight.

It felt as it were only yesterday that she’d first picked up a weapon in self-defense. Oh, how time had flown.

“Heh. You made a pretty cute kid, back in the day.” The Owl Lady still sounded shaken, but she was clearly trying to recover her previous stride. One hand carded through her impressive mane of silvery locks as she gave an exhausted sigh.

“I gotta apologize, Luz. I didn’t – this is just so much.” Her hands gave a quick flap towards the illusion cast about them, an awed look in Eda’s eye. “Sorry for laughing, earlier. And – sorry for bullying you into showing us. I should’ve… taken your word for what it was.” She gave the immersive spell another scan. “Gotta admit that it’s beautiful, though.”

“It’s okay, Eda. I get it.” The human mage wrapped her arm around the witch’s shoulders, giving her a quick squeeze. “It’s pretty crazy, even to me. And I’ve been to a lot of different planes, at this point.”

The quiet moment was shattered as Willow and Gus returned from their exploration, still with starstruck expressions in place.

“This place is gorgeous, Luz.” Willow whispered, running a hand down the mossy trunk of a curling tree. “There’s just so much life and variation – I never thought a jungle would look like this.”

“Yeah!” Gus added, practically vibrating in excitement. “And not only that, but this spell? It’s incredible. There’s so much detail here that it has to be doing something funky to fill in the blanks. There’s no way you would have remember every little bit of this!”

“I could spend my entire life just cataloguing all the plants and their properties here,” Willow sighed dreamily, a faraway look on her face. “That’s not even taking into account all of the people and wildlife. The stories they could tell…”

“I know, right?” Gus buzzed to and fro still, investigating the nomadic camp with a ravenous expression. “How’d you ever make the decision to leave, Luz? I woulda spent years here just – learning everything!”

The one thing she didn’t want to answer, and they just had to bring it up.

She tensed at the question, drawing a raised eyebrow from the Owl Lady, who clearly felt the tightening of her grip from their one-sided embrace.

“That – it’s a long story. Not worth telling right now.” Would the spell Eda cast read her thoughts, make them see her fears against her will? Mierda. Luz needed to get a grip. “I’ll let you guys know later. Okay?”

She did a poor job of deceiving the pair of witches, however, as they gave her a look of growing concern.

“Luz? Did something happen that… forced you to leave?” Willow asked slowly, cautiously. Her companion did not show any such restraint.

“What d’you mean, Willow?” Gus gasped, a hand flying to his mouth in wide-eyed surprise. “Oh no! Did you break some ancient taboo, and the tribe you were with had to banish you forever?”

Luz was feeling her calm slipping under their questioning. There was only so much not-thinking about a topic she could do before the dam burst, and being back here – even if only in spirit – was thoroughly rattling the clamp she kept on her darker memories. The nightmares had already been picking at the scar, and now… she hadn’t realized how badly this would affect her. Eda was looking increasingly uncomfortable under her white-knuckled grasp, indecision visibly growing.

Hadn’t she moved on from this, already? They’d been gone for years now. She couldn’t just – fall apart at the drop of a hat, anymore. Didn’t that day haunt her enough?

“Gus! That’s insensitive,” The bespectacled witch scolded her friend, wagging a finger in his direction. “Leave her alone – I’m sure she has her reasons not to tell us.”

“Sorry, sorry!” The boy relented, throwing his hands up in submission. “It’s just – I can’t ever imagine leaving a place like this. There’s so much to learn from one world, but all of them? An infinite amount? That’s crazy! It’s huge! And the people here seem so lively and interesting…”

Yes, the people. The Kor nomads, to name a few that Luz had encountered on her journeys. So open and kind, even to a complete stranger of another race, stranded in the jungle. A tight-knit community, closer than blood and just as protective of it.

Loving. Supportive. Almost-home.

Was she starting to hyperventilate? Her chest was – too tight. Luz might’ve been feeling the beginnings of a panic attack coming on. She hadn’t experienced one of those since she’d first learned how to strike to kill, lest she wind up dead herself. Which was the problem, really, seeing as that had happened here on that horrible night, when – when she –

Shadows were lengthening, a shift towards one fateful evening scene as the enchantment responded to her spiraling thoughts, akin to a flock of carrion birds.

She’d never been able to force herself to return after it all. Just avoided the world she’d grown to adore like it was plagued. Broken.

“Kid, look at me. Look.” Eda was holding her cheeks in both hands – they were crouching? When did they get there? “You’ve gotta calm down. I don’t know where the spell’s gonna take us, but this – I don’t think it’s something you’re gonna want to see, you have to stop and breathe -”

Couldn’t even warn anybody else what had happened. Didn’t even try. She just… ran. A coward to the end.

“Eda, is she okay? Everything’s changing now, the illusion…”

“Alright, I think that’s enough of that.” Even through the filter of white noise clouding her hearing, Eda’s growing concern was plain, her fingers arcing with leaping magic as she snagged Luz’s limp wrist. “Point made, pretty pictures taken, time to cut this little trip short before it stops being family friendly -”

A blaring call like a distant foghorn, so immeasurably loud that it rattled the party’s very bones, ripped through the jungle valley and shocked them into pale-faced silence. Luz could have sworn that her heart had stopped beating, right then and there.

A moment of deceptive peace filled the clearing as the illusion of drowsy nomads stumbled from their tents, fear and confusion on their faces while they scrambled for weapons. The jungle night was far too still for miles around.

The Swarm descended upon the forest only seconds later.

A tide of chittering, slithering chitin fell upon the world in a blast, tearing trees and stone asunder with the force of its passing. The mindless servant-husks of the Eldrazi horde poured into the gaps within the forest, shredding everything alive in their path. The mind-boggling symmetry of the Titan Kozilek’s brood cut through dense foliage like a sharpened knife through meat, erasing the vibrancy of Zendikar from existence as plant matter vaporized into dust. They made way for their foul cousins spawned from the unknowable intelligence of Ulamog, ravenous musclebound hulks crushing the resistance from the scattered, fleeing wildlife and elementals as they passed, grinding the world about them into shattered paste.

Somewhere, distantly, the sound of an older woman cussing up a storm slid through the murky hoots and shrieks, bands of foreign power caressing Luz’s arm like tropical fronds in passing as something tugged at her ephemeral shackle.

It was not long before they reached the Kor encampment, slobbering mandibles reaching and reaching and hungering –

“I know, I know, I've gotta be careful - it's bound up in her mind, I can't just rip things out! Just need enough wiggle room in the circle to…”

Enchantment snapping like a cheap rubber band, the magic rebounded, a fragmented spillage of glowing ring segments floated harmlessly over bare wrists as Eda tilted the unresisting girl backwards, a sigh of relief leaving her pale lips. The ghostly overlay vanished, leaving the quartet standing within the cozy cottage interior of the Owl House once more.

But Luz saw no such thing. She was trapped, back in that sweltering jungle, because she'd never truly left it behind. The howls of a dying world cottoned her ears alone, cluttered her swimming vision as she -

Could only watch in horror while the pale fairfolk were butchered in droves, forced before the wave of alien might as if wheat before an implacable thresher. Screams and gurgles from the fighting, dying warriors echoed through the air, offset by the chilling shrieks and ululating whistles of their attackers. The temporary shelters of the village were torn asunder, providing no respite for the cowering citizens hidden within, their terror high and reedy in the crashing night air.

Luz’s throat was killing her. She was probably screaming herself hoarse, but you couldn’t tell over the din. She scrabbled at the shackle of the spell at her wrist, desperate to end the nightmare unfolding before them.

Murmurs came to her from miles abound, ranging and worried. She could pay them no mind. After all…

The worst of things were yet to come.

The nightmare shifted once again, focused on the crush of fleeing tribespeople flooding between their trampled tents, leaving behind two stooped figures in the wild firelight. A younger Luz was sobbing hopelessly as she held a cloth slick with spilled life against the Kor Chieftess’ side, clutching her own gifted staff like a lifeline, with the pale woman grasping her by the torn hoodie.

“Run, you stupid girl,” She rasped, pulling herself from the ground with the aid of her spear, out of Luz’s grip. “You can’t win this. I can’t win this. Someone must escape – to let people know what approaches.”

“But I – I can’t leave you! What about tribe? Family?” The phantom of a terrified girl gasped. “You said that -”

The warrior shook the girl briefly, a resigned look of despair in her eyes as she settled her free hand on the teen’s slim shoulder.

“A family would see its children survive, no matter the cost.” There was no room for argument in her steely voice. “Go. Remember us. Live for us.”

“Luz…? Luz. Come on, girly, you’ve gotta look at me. Spell’s done, you’re out, there’s nothing left -”

And with that, the chieftain spun with a snarl, screaming a defiant war cry as she plunged back into the fray to her death.

The ghost of Luz cried out after her, nearly signing herself to certain doom, as two skittering monstrosities broke through the line of sagging tents and rushed towards the source of the sound. The shade shrieked then, panicked and flailing, a vicious bolt of seething lightning flying from her open hand into the beasts. They shuddered to a smoldering stop as the teen girl fell on her back. Her eyes were blind and lips moving, a prayer to a distant god as more nightmares encircled her, the pulsing light of a planeswalk wrapping about her prone form –

Suficiente! Hazlo parar!

The aching terror fueled Luz’s haphazard spellwork as she jerked, pouring burning magic into the last flaking tethers of Eda’s spell, defiantly tearing its toothless remnants asunder in seconds beneath her maddened fear and scraping her wrist raw in an effort to clean herself of the lingering phantoms. The memory faded from her vision, leaving the three spellcasters shocked and pale in her view once more, the only sound her own choking sobs.

King came rushing downstairs, panting with effort as he took in the horrified expressions on the others’ faces, wide-eyed at the sight.

“W-What happened? Is everybody okay!? I heard a bunch of back and forth, and you – Luz just started screaming. What’s even going on?”

Hooty slithered back in through the window, looking dazed himself, gazing around at the trio of blank-faced witches surrounding a crying human girl.

“They did some crazy spell to show that Luz had visited other worlds or something, and it showed a buncha – terrible monsters!” The house demon gave a full-body shudder, his feathered form bristling in disquiet. “Let me tell you, that felt all kinds of wrong on my walls and floor!”

She couldn’t control herself. She’d said over and over that there would be no more tears. Not over that. They were dead and gone, her Kor family, and wouldn’t want her torn to pieces on their account. She was right to survive while they hadn’t. There was nothing she could do.

It definitely didn’t feel like any of that, though. It felt like it was all because of her – not strong enough, not quick enough, not good enough.

“It wasn’t your fault, kid.” Eda’s husky timbre tickled her ear as the planeswalker rocked back and forth. Had she said that out loud? “There was no good way out of something like that. You did the right thing – you survived.”

The first thing to help anchor her in reality once more was a bare pair of arms, pale and deceptively muscled, wrapping her tightly in a hug as she was moved to the couch. It was almost worse, because she knew who they belonged to – but it felt so much like the embrace of a warrior and leader from a faraway land so long ago, the excited display of someone made proud by their student. Another two sets of arms enwrapped her shuddering form, the warmth of multiple bodies pressed close soothing her ragged cries over long minutes.

It wasn’t even dinner yet, but she was just… so exhausted. So comfortable in this big pile of hugs, and… she didn’t want to feel anymore. Feelings hurt, remembering hurt. It never got any easier losing loved ones. It certainly didn’t stop after Zendikar.

Slowly, achingly, Luz drifted off into slumber on the couch, surrounded by her new friends.

She sleepily hoped they would last a good, long while.

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry you all… had to see that.”

The hoarse voice whispering from the miserable bundle of blankets on the couch made Eda and her guests twitch in discomfort, seated around the coffee table in a semi-circle as they quietly chewed through dinner. Nobody had been overly hungry after the horrible events they had witnessed under the influence of the Owl Lady’s enchantment, but after Luz had cried herself into an exhausted nap, the host had insisted on everyone getting something in their stomachs. ‘It helps calm you down,’ she said, refusing to elaborate any further. Even King and Hooty had awkwardly remained present, to be informed by those who had been involved for the encounter with Luz’s troublesome memories.

The plate of unfamiliar noodles cooled before Luz, untouched, as she stared blankly at the low-slung coffee table. She made no move to eat, not trusting the awful twisting in her gut at the moment, the throbbing soreness of her burnt wrist a mild distraction from her other discomforts. Her companions had been kind enough to offer her a roll of gauze and homemade ointment for the injury, which she slowly enwrapped her limb in.

The planeswalker felt emptied after her earlier distress. But she owed it to her new friends not to let it bog her down too badly.

Gus gave a frantic shake of his head at her apology, looking on the verge of tears himself.

“No Luz, it wasn’t your fault! I was the one making stupid jokes and not taking it seriously. You were clearly upset, and I just – wouldn’t shut up, and…”

“I think we’re all a little guilty here, kid.” Eda’s tone brooked no argument. “She was uncomfortable every time she talked about where she’d been, and then I badgered her into showing us proof – for something she clearly hadn’t gotten over yet. Should’ve just quit while we were ahead.” She combed a hand through her graying hair, looking twice her age in that moment.

“… Do you want to talk about any of it, Luz?” Willow murmured softly, gently placing a hand on the mage’s knee. “Maybe not what we saw earlier. Just – in general. I know it can help, if you’re willing.”

“I don’t know, Willow…” The Owl Lady began, hesitation on her face.

“It’s okay.”

Luz’s quiet mumble struck them silent, the huddle of witches and demons waiting for her to continue. A long moment passed as she composed herself.

“I didn’t find out any of this until later. After I talked to some other planeswalkers who were there, too.” Luz’s eyes slid shut as she recalled conversations of years past. “Those things were called ‘Eldrazi.’ The ones that attacked were drones, slaves to three giants that would attack worlds.” She looked up then, a grave expression on her face.

“They would destroy entire planes. Every living thing eaten for their mana, stripped down to dust. And then they’d move on to kill the next. It was… I don’t even know if I can count how many people died to them. Zendikar was their last target.”

She swiped the back of her hand across watering eyes, sniffling sharply as she continued.

“A bunch of armies and ‘walkers managed to stop two of the Titans… Ulamog and Kozilek. They did some -” Luz’s hand slid out from her nest, gesturing vaguely. “Mega-sized spell that torched them. But the last one escaped.”

Her gaze grew haunted again, blind to her companion’s expressions.

“I saw it again on another world called Innistrad.” She gave a low, bitter chuckle, bordering on hysterical. “I thought it was hunting me. You know? There’s no way my luck was so bad. But it showed up, and I – I couldn’t stay. Couldn’t help. Just like last time. That place was… already really bad to begin with.” She paused, directing her attention to the grim countenance of the Owl Lady.

“Do you guys have vampires and werewolves around here? Or maybe stuff like zombies, and ghosts?”

“You can find them here and there, yeah.” Eda answered cautiously, wary of how the tangent was headed. “Actual undead are pretty rare these days though. Belos’ cronies aren’t big fans of raising bodies.”

“And what would you say they’re like? Normal people?” She was not liking where the mage was going with this.

“Mostly. Why?”

“Innistrad was wrong.” Luz surprised them with the hard conviction in her voice as she looked down at her lap once more. “Vampires were nutty, murderous predators. Ghosts and ghouls were all over the place constantly going after helpless people. Werewolves were… crazy. They never remembered anybody, and would just – tear everything apart. The demons were probably the worst, though. Every bad story you’ve ever heard about them came true on that world.” Luz shuddered, cutting herself off.

“It got worse when Emrakul showed up. It drove everybody into a rage, making them mutate and go insane. I was barely there a month before I had to run. It was… close. Closer than I’d like.”

“What happened with that one?” King sounded like he feared the answer, anticipation warring with dread on his bony face.

“The same group that took out the other Eldrazi showed up, and…” Luz had to stop, a bit of life coming back to the girl as her bafflement became clear. “Apparently they locked it inside the planes’ moon, somehow? Something about it being a bunch of enchanted silver?” She shrugged helplessly. “Yeah, I… don’t really know what was up with that.”

“Uh. Okay.” No one really had an appropriate response to that statement.

“…That wasn’t all you had to say, kid.” Eda eyed her from the adjacent lounge chair, frowning lightly. “Something else is bugging you, isn’t it?”

Luz gave a humorless chuckle, shaking her head slightly.

“Am I really that much of an obvious sad-sack? Sorry guys. I wasn’t planning on dumping my life’s story on you today.” The subdued girl gave another sniffle, finally reaching for the meal set out before her. She fiddled with her dented metal fork for a moment, considering what else she was willing to reveal, before gusting out a resigned sigh. “Guess I might as well get it all out on the table in one go.”

Willow wrapped her in a warm one-armed hug, concern clear on her features.

“Only if you’re okay with it. We’re not going anywhere, if you wanna save it for another day.”

“…Thanks.” Luz gave her a wobbly smile, taking a quick scoop of her meal before pushing onwards. “It still hurts, but… I do feel a little better, getting to finally talk about all of this. There’s a little bit more. I – haven’t ever had anyone around long enough to tell them what happened.”

The point that ‘Because they were all gone’ went unsaid by everyone present.

“The last world I stayed on for a while was Ravnica. You know how Bonesborough looks?” She received a round of nods from the group, barring Hooty. “Ravnica’s an entire plane covered in towers that make the town seem like a dinky village in the woods. Every structure’s at least three times as high, and it’s all buildings as far as the eye can see.” A faraway look filled her gaze. “It’s still beautiful, in its own way.

“The point is, I went there to track down some rumors about other planeswalkers being really active on that world. I was trying to find some info that only somebody like me would probably know, so I followed their trail best I could.” Luz closed her eyes. “I found some people there, a bunch of barbarian clans called the Gruul. They lived on the outskirts where nature was trying to reclaim the construction. I met… a good friend. Domri Rade.”

She couldn’t help the bittersweet smile that curved her lips, memories of better times clear in her mind.

“He was a ‘walker, too. A few years older than me. Took me in, convinced the other Gruul to let me stay and learn from them. That was the longest I’d ever spent in one place – he wasn’t really big on travelling around when he had people to care of back home. Domri was the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother, I think.” Her grin soured, dark recollections rearing their heads. “It was like the Kor all over again. I let myself make friends, and then some loco bastardo went and ruined it all.”

“It wasn’t the Eldrazi again, was it?” Gus whispered, eyes wide in anticipation.

“No. Worse. Another planeswalker - some gigantic, ancient dragon that showed up with an army of crystal zombies.”

“Uh… what? ‘Crystal zombies,’ really?” Eda seemed barely able to believe that, but Luz remained serious, leaving the Owl Lady to acknowledge her tale with a nod.

“There were hundreds, maybe thousands of them. They tore the whole city apart, looking for us – other ‘walkers. They were killing people, harvesting them for their sparks. It was… awful.”

Her voice dipped into a haunted whisper, eyes staring unseeing at the floor.

“Domri tried to join the dragon. They killed him first. I - I watched it happen.”

“I’m so sorry, Luz.” Willow squeezed her tightly, a sympathetic expression on her face. The others looked on with varying degrees of guilt and discomfort as the room went silent for a long moment.

“I don’t mean to derail you, Luz,” Gus started slowly, “But what was that about a ‘spark?’ Is that a… planeswalker thing?”

“Yeah.” Luz nodded, leaning into the comforting embrace. “It’s the part of the soul that lets somebody travel between worlds. I heard someone say once that maybe one in a million people are born with it, and it’s another one in a million that ever have it activate. You -” Her voice cracked. “You can’t take that from somebody without killing them. The dragon didn’t care.”

“Why would he do that to people, if he was able to move around like that?” Eda demanded sharply, hands clenching helplessly as she fumed at the thought. “What’s the point in all the destruction for something you already have? It doesn’t make any damn sense.”

Luz could only shake her head limply.

“I don’t know. I was too busy staying alive. When I tried to leave, it…” Her thoughtful look returned. “There was something keeping us all trapped on Ravnica. I didn’t ever figure that one out, but there were at least a few dozen other ‘walkers present during the fight. For reference? If I see another person like me within a couple of months, it’s a good day. We’re pretty rare, which I guess makes us valuable… to certain people.” She concluded darkly. “And I know what you’re thinking.”

She couldn’t stand to look at her tentative friends, to see the pity and embarrassment she anticipated in their faces. Luz felt her stubborn determination well up in her chest, refusing to let her own efforts go unstated.

“I didn’t run that time. I didn’t hide.”

Luz was not a coward anymore. She was not.

“I fought them,” She whispered furiously. “I used everything I had to make a difference. The others were stronger than me, but – I’m fast. Hard to hit. I know how to get around, where to take people out of the way so they’d be safe. Those monsters were killing everyone -” She glared up, dreading their judgement – but was surprised and mollified to find only patient support on their faces. Luz pushed on once more. “So I fought them. I saved people, that time. I didn’t let them hurt innocents, not like… on Zendikar.”

“You didn’t ‘let’ anything happen girly.” Eda’s hand squeezed Luz’s covered knee comfortingly, her voice firm. “You’re forgetting we all saw what was coming for you. You survived. No shame in that. And besides? Good job on sticking it that nasty dragon.” She gave the teary-eyed mage a fierce grin. “You did solid work saving people and the like. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise, got me?”

“That’s a lot coming from you, Miss ‘I’d Kill a Man for a Coin’ Clawthorne.” Willow ribbed her mentor lightly, wielding a cheeky half-smile to take the edge off. Her jest got several small chuckles from around the room, Luz included.

“Feh!” The Owl Lady gave a dismissive wave, rolling her eyes. “Sometimes there’s stuff more important than money, you know? But only sometimes.” She gave the bundled mage an exaggerated wink and a nudge, drawing a few more hiccupping giggles from the tired girl.

Luz had missed having friends to share jokes with. It’d been too long since she’d just cut loose, by her reckoning. The calm that followed was much more pleasant than it had been while she dozed, the rest of the Owl House lounging quietly as she scooped the remainder of her lukewarm meal into her mouth.

“So I know poking into your past was what got us in hot water to begin with,” Gus spoke up hesitantly, tapping his fingers together. “But I’d still love to hear any stories you have about other worlds, Luz. Just, um, the happier stuff. You know. Sorry.” The tips of his ears darkened as his words trailed off.

The young planeswalker gave a pondering hum around her final forkful of pasta, casting her mind back to various adventures across the multiverse.

“Augustus. Really? Right now?” Willow appeared thoroughly unimpressed, directing a flat glare at the cringing boy from behind her thick glasses.

“It’s alright, guys. Not everything’s doom and gloom with me. Just… thanks for being here. I really appreciate it.” Luz gave what she hoped was a confident grin at the pair, gesturing towards herself. “’Sides, you’re not the one that tripped right over a big personal warning sign trying to prove a point. So.”

She cleared her throat, eyes tracing the aged support beams overhead as she considered what kind of tale the others would be interested in hearing. The planeswalker perked up as she recalled one particularly astounding encounter, some energy making its way back into her posture at the thought.

“Okay, when I was wandering around one time,” Luz began, immersing herself into retelling the experience. “I found myself on a plane they called Kephalai. Lots of big, classical city buildings made of marble, and the whole continent was peppered with these enormous lakes and rivers. Anyway, you can imagine my surprise when I pop by one of the city markets, and find somebody selling trinkets with Ravnican guild seals on them…”

They spent the rest of the night listening with rapt attention to Luz spinning tales of happier times, well into the dusky later evening of the Boiling Isles, hanging onto every word of worlds afar.

After the incident the prior weekend, Eda seemed determine to let Luz work her way through the painful tangle of emotions evoked by the event, and let her have the better part of the week off in spite of her protests. The Owl Lady didn’t really seem to have an answer to the moping young adult living in her house, and just cut her free to take some time and try to relax. However, her supposed indifference was offset by regular check-ups on Luz’s welfare as the girl collected herself. The mage found it just a little exasperating, if not endearing that the older witch cared enough to keep her wellbeing in mind.

With King and Eda tied up in running the business side of the Owl House’s affairs, making consistent sales runs out to local customers, Luz found herself free to explore the property and surrounding woodlands. She would regularly spend mornings rising shortly after the encroaching sun as she was wont to do, exercising staff forms alongside the windy cliff while Hooty kept her company, the house demon running through all kinds of inane chatter to keep her mind busy.

To her quiet relief, the brief spat of nightmares had receded once more, leaving her feeling significantly better rested.

After a point Hooty even volunteered to help Luz as a sparring partner if she so desired, proving his uncanny ability to tear through the packed soil and burst past her flanks for ambushes. It was a welcome deviation from the straightforward fights she was so accustomed to, allowing the planeswalker to hone her senses as she returned to the rhythm of battle readiness.

Nobody had been harmed by Eda’s disastrous enchantment the week before, not physically at least, barring her minor burn from magical backlash. But it was a firm reminder of what may yet come in her future – and what she now stood to lose, with people Luz cared for in the line of fire once again.

To that end, Luz pushed herself to expand her skillset with various colors of mana, targeting something she had considered previously harnessing: blue magic hydromancy.

She began simply, manipulating water sourced from the house or down by the wild seas, twisting it into a variety of forms through the power of her mental fortitude. It was in no way easy, wrapping her will around a liquid source and forcing it into unnatural shape, and having to retain it as such for extended periods of time. In addition, the field of application was quite wide – as she had commented to her impromptu students the other night, there were almost no limits to what could be accomplished through magic with enough time and power. Luz thusly decided on more combat-oriented efforts, calling the strength of flowing rapids to herself in cutting blades and dowsing blasts.

The arcane depths of the island’s heavily saturated blue mana sang loudly through her body and soul, sharpened into slicing whips under the pressure of her determination. The roughly assembled dummies of dried wood and fallen brush that Hooty helped her gather fell quickly before the onslaught, blasted and ripped apart as she directed her attacks with snaps of her wrists.

Luz hoped that within a few weeks, she might be able to further grow her repertoire of aquatic abilities, perhaps to cast squalling blasts of snow and ice, or even disperse attacks into bursts of fog. The skill evaded her for the moment, the intricacies of manipulating liquid thermodynamics while maintaining control of the water straining to her untested senses. However, the planeswalker welcomed the challenge knowing that mastery would come with time and practice.

Occupying her mind with new goals kept Luz from the dark thoughts of the recent past, pushing her ever onwards. She even allowed herself a moment of childish fantasy, the glee of ‘waterbending’ like in one of her favorite childhood shows helping to maintain her focus and enjoyment of the self-taught lessons.

During her spare time, the Owl Lady would join her in the yard, eager to put her own newfound access to blue mana to practice. She gave a valiant attempt at following the lead of her guest, but the grasp of hydromancy was beyond her for the moment. Not to be deterred, Eda pitted herself against numerous scrap items in the yard and began harnessing the power of freeform telekinesis. At one point, the pair had the bright idea to train in conjunction, with the pale witch launching targets skyward for Luz to blast to pieces with a concentrated attack of lashing water. Simultaneously, the mage would throw unannounced blasts towards the older woman at random intervals, encouraging Eda to redirect streams of swirling liquid away from her vulnerable form.

The witch’s connection to the flowing tides of her land’s magic grew with every passing day, leaving her capable of drawing greater quantities of mana into her confident spellcasting. Within the week, Eda the Owl Lady was tossing multiple objects across the yard in quick succession, knocking aside incoming attacks with a brush of her thoughts. Luz made certain to provide praise and feedback where appropriate, pride swelling in her chest at the sight of such resounding success for her older student. Between her decades of spellcasting and familiarity with the land and seas of the Boiling Isles, Eda slipped into her new skillset with the ease of a true prodigy, the original difficulties in connecting to natural mana all but forgotten.

In spite of everything that had happened as of late, this was the most fun Luz had experienced in a long while.

The return of the weekend brought with it further surprising developments.

Willow and Gus came hiking over the eastern foothills just as the pair were winding down from another training session, scattered remnants of shredded refuse and muddy puddles of splattered water interspersing patches of thick grass. Luz swiped the sweat from her brow with an easy motion, panting roughly as she shot her sparring partner a brilliant grin.

“You’re a real natural, Eda.” The butt of her staff was planted firmly in the dirt, the living wood slippery in her grasp. “I can’t believe how fast you’re taking to this! Guess all that meditating really did do something for you, huh?”

The Owl Lady snorted, downing a refreshing gulp from a salvaged human water bottle she’d found in her pile of goods.

“Uh huh. It was the silly mental gymnastics that made me so good, not the years of magical experience and constant practice every day. Whatever helps you sleep at night, kid.” She gave a rough shake of her head, thick mane of hair following the motion. “Phew. I thought I was in pretty decent shape before you came along, but all this flailing around really tuckers a gal out. Gotta admire that youthful stamina.”

“Mhm!” Came the cheery hum of agreement, even as Luz gestured with each hand, the pull of her will sending twin arcs of cool water spraying over her body from the nearby buckets. With a furrowed brow, she lunged forward, calling on blue mana and snapping her wrist away from her core. The majority of the liquid soaking her exercise clothes and twisted braid came running out in narrow rivulets, her clawed gesture loosening as she released control of the water to send it splashing to the ground. It was incredibly refreshing in the summertime sun – she’d have to keep working on that trick for future use.

“Huh. Handy.” Eda remarked, turning to meet the approach of her apprentice and company, co*cking a slim eyebrow and grin their way. “You kids missed the show! Luz here has been helping me learn how to toss stuff around with my mind. Now if any of you act up, I don’t even haveta get off the couch to kick your little rears outta my house.”

“Oh, I’m sure, Eda. I’ll keep that in mind next time you ask me to help file your taxes. Hello, by the way, Luz.” Willow tossed out flippantly, not even dignifying her snarky tutor with a look as she greeted Hooty, taking shelter inside the cool interior of the Owl House.

“What taxes?” The pale witch snorted, completely serious. She shortly followed suit, snagging the emptied buckets and boxes on her way to the door and directing a sly look towards the male witch. “Lunch’ll be ready in an hour or so, kids. Try not to melt out here.”

Luz gave her a parting wave, taking in the sight of the embattled yard once more as she consolidated her remaining containers of water, the sloshing of overfilled buckets loud in the midday stillness.

“Hey there, Gus. Looks like it’s just you and me right now.” She grunted as the buckets were dropped in a sloppy semicircle, dusting her hands off on slightly damp trousers as she gave the diminutive witch a questioning look. “Was something the matter? Or did you just want to hang out here with me?”

“Hi Luz.” He seemed a bit more subdued than their previous encounter, hands folded behind his back as one heel dug nervously into the dry dirt.

“What’s up with you?” The mage asked, co*cking a brow as she planted one hand at her hip. “I know we got off to a rough start before, but I’m not angry, you know. I made a stupid mistake and paid for it – it happens.”

“I know, I know, but…” The younger boy dropped into a deep bow, startling her. “I just wanted to apologize again. And… I wanted to give you something. As a gift, if you’ll take it.” His clasped hands flexed over some hidden object resting against his lower back.

“Of course! You didn’t have to do that.”

Gus straightened from his supplication, stepping forward to take Luz’s free hand and press a sleek disc of foreign metal into her palm.

“I hope you like it. Eda and Willow actually helped a lot with the process – they felt pretty bad too, and so we kinda… put our heads together and made something for you.”

The object was wrought in smooth, unmarked silver, shaped similarly to an old-fashioned pocketwatch on a chain, with a single miniature clasp on its front. Luz couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her as she popped the trinket open, and sprouting from the interior came a wildflower native to –

“Zendikar… a jungle honeysuckle? How did you…”

“Willow had made sure to memorize some of the plants she saw during the spell the other day,” Gus elaborated, his eyes on the flowering illusion. “Eda helped with some more mind magic to get all the details right, and then we tied it into an illusion enchantment that I knew of to make it as realistic as possible.” One of his hands came up, gently stroking the fragile leaves of the plant’s image. It all felt so… genuine, hearing the soft sound of his fingertips scrape over the green shoot, stem bowing underneath the pressure.

“That’s not all it can do, too. Give it a swipe on the bottom half.”

Luz followed his suggestion with mouth agape, eyes widening further as the image shifted, displaying the shape of a tender fern sprouting from the undergrowth.

“We got about ten or so plants programmed into the enchantment. Willow wanted to record more, but that was all she saw before, well…” The witch shrugged, averting his eyes. “We just wanted to give you a little something to remember your favorite place by, y’know? And… we’re all really sorry about that – whole thing. Yeah.”

“It’s… it’s beautiful.” She was tearing up a little as the sleek leaves of the fern rolled between her fingers. Luz shut it after another moment, the container snapping cleanly closed and cutting off the projected illusion. “Thank you so much. This – it means the world to me.”

She lunged forward, snatching the shorter boy into a tight hug as he gave a startled laugh, before gamely returning the gesture. Gus patted her comfortingly on the shoulder blade, the embrace loosening up as Luz took a step back.

“We weren’t sure if you would want it on a chain or anything, but Eda said she can always modify it later if you don’t want it as a necklace. And… I’m glad you like it so much!”

“I love it, Gus. I’ll have to thank Eda and Willow for their help when we go in to eat.” A quick wipe of her thumb flicked the forming tears from her eyes, and she directed a shining smile to the boy that he readily returned.

“Good to hear! But - there was something else I meant to ask you, too.” He clasped his hands before him, a winning smile on his face. “Eda said that you might possibly be able to teach me how to use your type of magic for illusions?”

“Was this a bribe?” Luz asked playfully, letting out a chuckle at his falling expression, pointed ears going dark with a blush as he stammered frantically. “I’m just messing with you. Yeah, I’ve met mages who can do that kinda thing with blue mana, even if I haven’t tried it myself.”

She turned her head to look towards the Owl House, giving it a narrowed squint as she pocketed her gift safely within her trousers.

“I’ve got a quick question, though.” Luz turned back to her companion. “I get that Willow wants to be a ‘wild witch’ like Eda, but she didn’t mention anything about the kind of stuff you were learning. Are you okay with all of this… arguably legal magic? I don’t want anybody getting hauled off to jail…”

“Ah, but there’s the secret!” Gus declared, holding up a finger dramatically. “I’m not learning how to do all schools of magic, just illusions – with a different source.”

Hmm. A clever little workaround, if it was true. He followed the statement with a cheeky grin.

“Besides, none of us even know if your kind of spells will work with a coven tattoo, so it’s worth giving it a shot, you know?”

“Tattoo?” She repeated, tilting her head with a frown. “What tattoo?”

In response the young witch rolled up one of his sleeves, revealing the sprawling web of ink staining his forearm, an intricate icon of a doubled mirror eclipsing his wrist.

“It’s how covens apply limitations to a member’s magic,” He explained, even as the planeswalker leaned in to inspect the pattern, fascination and revulsion warring on her expression. “They’re enchanted to cut off other types of spells for witches. Normally you get them before you graduate, once you’ve picked a coven to join.”

Luz couldn’t imagine such a massive handicap being placed on someone’s magical abilities. It was a notable struggle for most fledgling mages on other worlds to master even one school of spells – and the witches of the Boiling Isles just… cut themselves off from the full spectrum, even for their children? Just like that?

“Does it hurt, when they give you those?” She wasn’t even certain if she meant physically or spiritually.

“Nope. It’s real easy, most members will know the spell so they can do it for new applicants. Not even a pinch.” Gus rolled his wrist, displaying his full range of unhindered motion.

“Wow. I can’t even imagine doing something like that…” She hesitated, feeling her questions encroaching on delicate subjects. “If you’re required by law to get those before you finish high school, then – how do Eda and Willow not have those tattoos?”

Gus’ expression folded in on itself, as his gaze slid away from her uncomfortably.

“I’m… not sure I should say. It’s not really my place to tell you.” His body language screamed uncertainty and doubt at his own words.

Luz placed her hand lightly on his shoulder, drawing his gaze back around with a wince.

“You don’t have to tell me if you think it’d be wrong to, Gus. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t feel like you had to learn these spells if it might be a problem in the future, just because Willow and Eda know it. But I promise – whatever it is, I won’t judge.”

“Well…” The young witch dragged the word out, trepidation clear. “We did get to see some of your own stuff get revealed to the world the other day. And – I won’t get into the real tough bits. So…”

Luz mentally braced herself, as Gus came to a decision.

“They avoided the tattoos because… they dropped out of school.”

Her eyes widened a bit at the admission. It wasn’t as if that were something horrifically scandalous, but it struck painfully close to home within her heart.

“I’ll let Willow decide if she wants to tell you why. But Eda? As far as I know, she just didn’t wanna give up her abilities. Which I get, but…” Unspoken concerns for his friend and her mentor danced behind his eyes. “She’s spent most of her life running from the law. I don’t know if I’d have the guts to do something like that.”

“… I don’t know if I would, either.” Luz muttered softly, giving a sympathetic wince. “They really dropped out of high school? Both of them?”

“Yeah.” Gus gave a subdued mutter. A bit of steel entered his spine as he looked up at her, gaze challenging. “That’s not some kind of problem, is it?”

“No, no. It’s just…” Her fingers drummed nervously against folded arms as Luz fought to unearth yet more buried memories. “That’s something I struggled with. A long time ago. School and I never really got along, and it – it didn’t end well. It’s kinda why I’m here, to a degree.” She gestured widely, encompassing the sky with the sweep of an arm. “Guess it’s a bit of a moot point, though. Can’t really get an education like that when you’re planet hopping. You know?”

The two descended into morose silence for a moment before Luz broke the pause with a clap, forcing a cheery expression.

“Welp, since you’re interested in learning how to cast spells with mana, let’s get you started before lunch. The standing record for learning how to harness blue magic is about five days – wanna see if you can beat Eda’s time?” The boy gave an eager laugh in response, pleased to move on from heavier topics.

“You know it! Gotta show the Owl Lady she has some competition for strongest witch on the Isles.”

The pair spent the remainder of their time before lunch running through the basic theories and meditation technique for connecting with the seething seas far below, Luz keeping up a running commentary as Gus settled in by the cliffside, legs dangling loosely over the ledge with salty winds buffering them from summer heat. Both sought to put aside their more serious concerns for the afternoon, enjoying one another’s company under the watchful summer sun.

When they retired to the Owl House for their meal, Luz made certain to give both Eda and Willow a tight embrace apiece, letting them know just how much she loved their thoughtful present. The remainder of the day passed between sorting goods for sale and watching Gus strive to forge a relationship with the elements, easy jokes on everyone’s lips as they worked.

It really was nice to have friends again.

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

Watching the break of day crest through the arches of a prehistoric Titan’s cadaver, Luz thought that she might never tire of the sight. The colossal remains played havoc with the approaching light of early dawn, sending cascading slivers of shadows running along the greater Boiling Isles as the local star ascended beyond the horizon.

It created a glorious view for the enterprising souls willing and able to be active at such a young hour of the day.

“Watch out down below!” The sharp crash of a falling pallet cracked through the dozing marketplace, drawing a number of dark looks their way.

Unfortunately, there was work to be done if the occupants of the Owl House wanted to remain comfortably fed and clothed, with little time available for poetic musings.

“Santo infierno, Eda, are you trying to squish me? I’m not that durable!” Luz scrambled back to her feet, dusting the detritus of the dirty bazaar roadways from her borrowed cloak as she flipped the unstained hood over her scalp.

“Sorry kid, forgot how heavy that one was.” The pale witch descended from the skies, dismounting her staff and leaving it to hover unaided in the street as she ran a critical eye over the scattered components of her market stand.

“I’ll help ya get unloaded and set the tent up, but I’m gonna need to scoot sooner rather than later. Mama needs to make some important deliveries and pick-ups on the other side of town, so it’ll be up to you to get some sales.” She gave the unimpressed human mage a paired thumbs-up, an exaggerated grin stretching her features. “Good luck with that!”

Luz muttered darkly under her breath in her mother’s tongue as she hauled the collapsible portions of the rough plywood stand into position, snapping the cleverly hidden pegs into their appropriate sockets while the witch took advantage of her growing telekinetic skills to hoist the ragged tent walls that housed her greater stock of goods.

Even by the planeswalker’s standards, their current venture was a rather early event to be partaking in. It appeared that the Bonesborough bazaar acted very much like the homely farmers markets Luz had spent her youthful days visiting with her mami, beginning operation in the wee hours of the morning and continuing into the dregs of late afternoon. Her love for exploring flea markets on bright mornings, hand in hand with her cheerful mother, was what had inspired her to frequent the open exchanges in search of otherworldly goods and homemade meals. They weren’t terrible for hunting down valuable gossip, either.

As it turned out, the only exception the Owl Lady made in regards to her strict adherence of midday slumber was for instances such as this, where she would attend the market as early as possible to maximize customer exposure. It was a standard principle, but a solid one that had served many a merchant well in the past. Luz simply wished that Eda would have warned her before dragging her a good few miles into town, barely conscious and with a paltry breakfast to start the day, nearly forgetting her pack and satchel of personal funds before she was whisked off into Bonesborough proper.

On top of that…

“Eda, I’ve never sold a single thing in my entire life. My world had these things, called ‘child labor laws?’ I couldn’t’ve done stuff like that even if I wanted to.” The planeswalker pressed the sleep from her eyes, the growing irritation in her gut helping to wake her up for the daily grind. “I really don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

“Aw, c’mon!” The older woman gave her a hearty slap on the back, making Luz question where in the world such a lackadaisical person found so much energy at this time of day. “You’ll never know unless you try. Where’s that can-do attitude you’re normally so fond of?”

“I forgot in in my bedroll.” Luz deadpanned, prompting another joyful chuckle, coupled with the mussing of her thick brown locks as the Owl Lady shook her head.

Willow must’ve been right: only the thought of a tidy profit could instill energy like this into the owner of the Owl House.

“Alright, I’ve got a few tips for you then, if you’re so anxious.” She began counting off her fingers, head tilted backwards in thought. “First suggestion? Since you’re so new at this, just play it cool. Don’t bug people, don’t oversell it, let them come to you. And when they’re at the stand?” Eda leaned in, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Don’t name any prices. Let them say it first. They’ll try to lowball you, every time, but if you just give ‘em a look and wait until they crack, those suckers’ll gladly cough up some more coin.”

That was… actually decent advice. Not the kind of mercantile approach that would work in an established shopping center, but for a roadside stand where haggling is the norm? It could work.

“Huh.” Luz gave a considering hum, some of Eda’s rampant energy infecting her and breaking the fugue of morning sloth. “Fair enough. Guess that’s worth a shot. Got anything else?”

“The second thing I can think of is to just ‘have fun.’” The older witch gave a bark of a laugh at Luz’s flat glare, patting her on the shoulder. “I’m only kinda pulling your leg, kiddo. What I mean is, don’t be afraid to get friendly if somebody wants to chat. No need to let them talk you up all day, but a buyer likes to see that the gal pawning some junk off on ‘em has a little bit of spirit, y’know?”

The girl gave a resigned sigh, finishing her assembly of the shoddy tabletop just as Eda finalized her own portion of the laborious setup.

“I’ll… give it my best shot. I just want to apologize in advance if I don’t make squat, though.”

“Hey, if there’s one good thing about selling this stuff, it’s that most of it isn’t even perishable. And besides, we’ve still got plenty of coin saved up back at the house.” The witch gave her a much more genuine grin this time, softening some of Luz’s cranky frustration. “Give it a try, and we’ll see how things turn out. Worst comes to worst, we just eat Hooty if we go broke.”

“Oh, that’s foul.” The young mage gagged at the thought, memories of his dirt-encrusted form dancing through her head as the witch gave another cackling snort, remounting the floating form of her carved staff.

“See you in a few hours!” Eda departed with a single wave, leaving Luz alone to face the horrors of the average consumer as she attempted to sell them random refuse from her homeworld – something that would’ve been difficult enough without her conscience nagging at her for pawning off scrap on complete strangers.

Mercifully, the early hour seemed to deter most of the common marketgoers, leaving her time to go through a few rounds of stretches to wake her sluggish body for the day, interspersed between bouts of unpacking goods to be put on display. Her work the prior week or so had helped to whittle down the piles of proper garbage in Eda’s stock, with some minor success being had in regards to restoration of the items for potential customers.

Luz had steadfastly refused to allow the Owl Lady freedom to sell anything she deemed overly hazardous or too heavily worn, such as aging toothbrushes and other filthy healthcare products that had clearly been discarded after use. Thankfully, despite the wild variety in the items that her host had salvaged over a period time, there was very little that posed a risk to either the seller or buyer. At worst she had fished some rusting blades from the pile, and after a short demonstration to the older woman on the mechanics of pocket knives, had deemed them reasonably safe for sale.

She had a sinking feeling that the witch should really have adopted some sort of policy regarding warning customers about her products, and that by buying them they waved the rights to charge the merchant for injuries. When Eda informed her that most folk simply did whatever they felt like with things such as batteries and operational machinery, Luz immediately began questioning her on potential lawsuits by the town government. That was the last thing any of them needed, especially seeing as the majority of the Owl House’s occupants were (probably) wanted criminals.

As the shining width of the midmorning sun slowly slid out from behind the imposing architecture of the titanic skeleton, Luz busied herself with tidying up any remaining grime that had hardened to the table’s wares. Her nerves only grew as time went on without a single interruption by a prospective buyer, the busywork only going so far as a suitable distraction for her personal concerns. After wiping down as much of the goods on display as was possible, she set upon a stack of yellowed index cards that had been fished from their stock, pen in hand as she went about properly providing labels and instructions for the various items Eda was trying to pawn off.

The least Luz could do was inform any visitors about what they were buying before they made a foolhardy decision – it would fall upon them to heed her advice.

By the time her first client made their appearance, the shade of dawn had been chased from the streets and most of the items up for sale had been thoroughly scrubbed down, leaving plastic casings shining and rust chipped away for greater appeal. The townsperson didn’t really greet the girl sitting behind her roughshod table, a half-awake gaze scanning over the table of repurposed human goods as the drowsy witch sipped a steaming mug of something caffeinated.

It was a tad off-putting, going without a greeting or making a valiant attempt at small talk, but Luz was only truly versed in working from the opposite side of the counter with valued currency in hand. She decided to heed Eda’s prior advice, staying silent with a watchful eye as the customer shifted through the pile of goods before him, idly scraping salt stains from the interior of an aging ceramic cup with a soiled rag she had salvaged. After a short period, the hooded man pulled a squeaky metal stapler from the pile, eyeing the device critically before referring to the placard the young planeswalker had scribbled out.

“A ‘stapler,’ for binding sheets of paper together? Hmm. Sounds handy.” The stranger shifted his gaze over to Luz, who had sat up from her relaxed slouch as his interest was made clear. “I’ll give you five snails for it.”

It occurred to her in that moment that the Owl Lady had never fully described to her the relative value of the Boiling Isles coinage, and it was a bit difficult to gauge the price of miscellaneous items without a proper frame of reference. Luz took a moment to ponder her options, before going ahead with her best effort at clinical disinterest.

“Make it ten snails, and I’ll toss in two boxes of staples. Should keep you in business for a while.” That sounded somewhat reasonable off the top of her head – especially considering the gentleman did not appear to understand that his purchase would need any kind of addition to function.

“Sounds good to me.” She kept her expression neutral as the money and goods changed hands, but internally the young mage felt a growing bubble of pleasure at her first successful sale of the day. Assuming a one-to-one ratio between the golden snails and her own native dollars, that would’ve been an acceptable deal to receive at a local supplier, so she could only hope that her estimate wasn’t too far off the mark. As a further bonus she made sure to demonstrate to her customer how to load in the staples, tossing in a remark about keeping fingertips away from its arms as the man walked away with his purchase.

Perhaps being a merchant wasn’t completely terrible.

Several more interactions passed before the daytime heat of the sun began encroaching uncomfortably, most of the sales performed by Luz being thankfully painless. A handful even wished to see the greater stock within the tent, browsing the darkened interior of the canvas cover in search of promising scrap. Eda’s tactics held true – if the customer seemed in anyway standoffish or disagreeable, the mage would let them say their piece, giving them only a short affirmation or co*cking an eyebrow at their intentional underselling, with all but the most stubborn cracking under her unamused look. It was actually growing progressively more difficult for her to pull off the act without giggling at their discomfited expressions, the idea of people finding her in any way intimidating being incredibly entertaining.

By the time noon rolled around, with no sign of the wandering Owl Lady in sight, Luz had shed her cloak to offset the sweltering wave of warmth suffusing the market square. Her host had held some concerns regarding the townspeople’s reactions to finding a human in their midst, but it seemed the growing heat left the majority of the marketgoers a bit less focused than they may have otherwise been. Only a few even gave the curve of her ears a second look, and none of them openly commented – though she did note with some interest that a number of eyes tracked her position with innocent curiosity as satisfied customers left the Owl Lady’s stall with purchases in hand.

The inconsistent flow of people coming and going leveled out into a minor trickle once the lunch rush began, leaving Luz to find herself something to tide herself over while she awaited Eda’s return. A quick visit to a neighboring stand secured her an appetizing local sandwich, the wrap packed with flavorful selections of meat and vegetables that the planeswalker couldn’t identify – but it was no matter. She had grown hungry enough to consider just about anything acceptable, and busied herself for a short while with her own meal break in comfortable solitude.

It was as Luz was finishing her purchased fare that a shadow obscured the sweltering sunlight above her, drawing her attention up to the visiting customer blocking the illumination.

“Sorry about that, just getting done with my lunch. I’ll be able to help you in a -” It took a moment for the visage of her guest to fully register, leaving the young mage to choke on her final mouthful of food as she beheld the unsmiling face of one Lilith Clawthorne – apparent head of the Emperor’s Coven, and the witch she had jinxed only two weeks prior.

The older woman gave her a bemused look, one eyebrow climbing high as Luz coughed her way through the blockage in her windpipe, a lengthy swallow of water finally leaving her free to gasp for air.

“Whew, huh, hello there Miss Lilith.” Any accumulated calm that she held with previous customers immediately crumbled, a bead of sweat trickling down her back as the law mage regarded her coolly. “Nice d-day to visit the local market, am I right? Heh…”

“Why yes, it is, citizen.” An edge of sarcasm entered the pale witch’s tone as she stood, stonily immobile, giving Luz an imperious look. “In fact, today was pleasant enough that I decided to put some of my accumulated leave to good use and enjoy the weather – and yet here I stand, before my wayward sister’s… shop, her criminal accomplice gallivanting freely in public.”

The young planeswalker barked out an overly cheerful laugh, palming the back of her neck as her nerves skyrocketed.

“Yeah, I guess I did. Um. Help Eda run away from you last time.” She winced, shrinking in on herself in her seat. “Would it mean anything if I said I was genuinely sorry about that?”

A second, more aggravated tone cut out from behind the coven leader, making the witch turn towards its owner.

“Not particularly, no. The law doesn’t really care how you feel about being a criminal. You’re just lucky this is our only day off.”

The stern girl glaring down at Luz through narrowed eyes was almost certainly an intern, or perhaps employee, of Miss Clawthorne – she held herself in the same confident, borderline aggressive stance as she looked down upon the mage. Her fair features and golden eyes brought to mind the likeness of Eda if any joviality or mischief had been stripped from her expression. Mint green locks were pulled back in a folded braid laying atop the greater length of her hair, the creeping hint of copper roots ringing her scalp and framing her sharply pointed ears.

For someone who looked close to Luz’s own age, her expression certainly reminded the mage of uncompromising principals and seething teachers from years past, their disappointment written plainly for all to see. It helped ground her, the raising of hackles at the smug look slicing through the panic of encountering an officer of the law she had previously accosted.

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to inconvenience anybody.” Her statement came across as disingenuous, but she was careful to school her features into the same neutrality she had treated enterprising customers to earlier that day. “If you aren’t here to arrest anyone, is there something I can help you with?”

“I was somewhat curious as to where my beloved sister had run off to, once I saw you attending her goods.” Lilith scooped a random article off the patchwork tablecloth – a small, plush child’s toy – as she gave the items a critical inspection. “I can only assume she’s causing chaos somewhere, or engaging in further illegalities.”

It was odd how that statement came off sounding more exhausted than anything else, but Luz wasn’t quite willing to drop her defenses in front of the aggravated law witches. They had already proven willing to be as rude as they pleased.

“Couldn’t tell you.” The mage leaned on the table, resting her elbows on the table as she cupped her cheeks. “But I’m sure she’ll be back soon. Just enough errands to keep herself busy, you know?”

If either woman registered the implicit warning, they failed to react in any gratifying manner. Miss Clawthorne was still turning over each object on the table, a clear confusion in her furrowed brow as she ran her eyes over the human wares. In lieu of the older woman’s response, her coven underling stepped forward, cool irritation giving way for something approaching begrudging respect in her expression as she stuck a hand out towards Luz, startling her.

“I suppose introductions are in order, since we’re being civil today. Have to give credit to the first criminal to get the better of us like that, after all.” Her slim hand gripped the mage’s unyieldingly as she gave their linked fists a single pump. “Amity Blight. Deputy to the Emperor’s Coven and Lilith Clawthorne’s protégé.”

Oh, so it was titles for this meeting, was it?

“That’s fair, I suppose. Luz Noceda – freelance spellcaster.” She pulled her hand from the crushing grasp, only to give her throbbing fingers a look with raised eyebrows as she considered something. “Wait. Did you actually want to introduce yourself? Or were you just digging for my name, so you could put it on a wanted poster?”

“Why not both?” The other girl’s grin was smug – but the spark of legitimate laughter dancing behind her eyes offset the severe appearance.

“Huh.” Luz grunted, looking rather bemused herself. “And here I thought it was Eda teaching others how to con random people, not her sibling.”

“Edalyn doesn’t offer to teach anyone a single thing, unless it benefits her.” Lilith’s sharp, if distracted, response cut across her apprentice’s witty retort. “And it seems that she’s found something valuable with you – after all, no one else I know could clean up this refuse for sale.” The older witch’s eyes flicked unerringly to Luz’s uncovered ears. “Isn’t that right, human?”

The pointed question had the coven deputy doing a double-take, the moment of realization almost comical to the planeswalker as her disinterested countenance broke apart in shock. It was difficult for Luz to appreciate the moment, however, as the pale woman stalked closer to the table, a shrewd look in her eye.

“More importantly – I would like to know how a magicless human such as yourself pulls the stunts we saw previously, before and after you incapacitated my guards.” The intensity of her presence that Luz had registered on their first meeting had returned in full force, cold green eyes boring through the stunned girl as she loomed over her.

“W-What can I say?” She turned her palms up in a weak shrug, wilting under the scrutiny. “I’m just full of surprises. It’s one of my greatest attributes.”

As if summoned by her distress, a youthful voice cut through the witch’s intimidating glare, blessedly relieving the mage from her burning curiosity for a moment.

“Hey Luz, is that you? I thought I recognized the – oh.”

Gus Porter trotted to a stop in front of the stand, the elation in his expression dimming into closed neutrality as he took in the sight of the two guests already retaining his friend’s attentions.

“Head Coven Leader Lilith. It’s an honor to see you out of the Emperor’s castle.” He tilted his head stiffly towards his elder, not even acknowledging the Blight girl standing beside her. “I hope you’re enjoying your visit to the Bonesborough market.”

“…I suppose you could say that I am. Thank you for your well wishes, citizen.” Lilith gave him a dismissive look, even as recognition grew on her face. “Have we met before? You seem somewhat familiar, but I cannot place from where.”

“He was a part of my graduating class.” Amity stepped forward, reentering the conversation with an air of mild annoyance, which faded into a tired look as she turned to her classmate. “Gus Porter. Hello. It’s been a while since I saw you.”

Luz blinked as his polite façade slipped away, open dislike coloring his expression with lips curled at the words.

“That was wholly intentional. And it’s Augustus – only friends get to call me by nicknames.”

Where was this coming from? If she had learned anything of her youngest companion, it was that Gus Porter was unfailingly polite and energetic, if not the most tactful. Even Lilith seemed taken aback by the sudden reversal in his behavior, eyeing the boy cautiously as he folded his arms, turning purposefully away from the pair to face his newfound friend.

“Is everything alright here, Luz?” He scanned the stand and its caretaker with concern, his tone softening once more. “I was coming by to see if I could catch Eda with some new offers, when I saw you over at her table. You looked…” The boy directed a sideways glance at the pair of coven witches. “Preoccupied.”

“I’m fine, Gus. Really.” She waved his incredulous look away with a warm grin, settling her arms loosely on the tabletop. “We were just talking, is all. It’s the ladies’ day off – no running from the cops today, apparently.”

“That is indeed the case. For now.” Lilith seemed a bit miffed at how the two were ignoring her and her apprentice, but Luz was well out of patience for the uncouth, intimidating witch. “You should consider who you choose to associate with more carefully, Mister Porter. No need to be dragged down by the company you keep.”

“Thanks for the advice, Miss Clawthorne.” His tone was flat and unimpressed, as he stared pointedly towards the stoic form of Amity Blight. “I’ll be certain to keep that in mind.”

The atmosphere surrounding the stand was growing increasingly tense, with the trio of witches burning angry holes through one another while Luz was sidelined by the veiled comments she understood little of, her anxiety rising once more at the verbal conflict.

“Hey, Gus – I appreciate you checking up on me.” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, bringing his attention back around to the stand. “Why don’t you let me finish up with these two, and then we can chat for a bit until Eda comes back? I wouldn’t mind getting a better look at some of the stands around here. Maybe you can show me all the hidden gems they’ve got in the market.”

The younger spellcaster gave a slow, hesitant nod as he accepted her nudging, moving away to sit on the brickwork steps of the market centerpiece with a promise to see her shortly. His continued worried staring was rather unsubtle, especially as he fiddled with the conjured form of his scroll – likely shooting off messages to Eda, or possibly Willow, regarding the situation.

“Well ladies,” Luz gave an exaggerated clap, drawing the officers’ attention back around. “It was a pleasure speaking to you today, but there are plenty of other customers that need attending to. The Owl Lady certainly loves her profit margins – as I’m sure you’re both well aware.”

The elder Clawthorne sibling gave a quiet harrumph, arms folding lightly over her chest as she directed the mage one last searching look.

“Don’t think that I’m finished with you, human.” She had to stop herself from bristling at the derogatory tone that the older witch referred to her people with, jaw clenching minutely. “I may have chosen to be lenient for today, but if I or my colleagues discover that you and Edalyn are in possession of any dangerous artifacts you’ve been waving about to imitate spellcasting, I will come down on both of you.”

The severity of her expression dimmed as Lilith swiped a hand over her nose, exhaustion creeping into her voice to replace the whip-like sternness.

“In the meanwhile, I implore you… please do not feed into my sister’s illegal activities. No good can come of it – for anyone involved. There is no need to throw your life away due to guilt by association.”

Luz couldn’t help being taken aback by the tonal change, but defensive anger still simmered in her gut after the witch’s dismissal of her own magical abilities.

“It’s not a matter of making a quick buck or causing trouble, Miss Lilith. I needed food and shelter – Eda was the first to offer. If it weren’t for her, I’d probably be sleeping in the woods right now. Last I heard, that wasn’t a good idea.”

The Clawthorne sister’s eyebrows shot up at that pronouncement, but she nodded slowly after a moment.

“You don’t have anywhere else to be? And Edalyn…” A deep, tiresome sadness crept into her countenance. “Yes. Yes, now that you mention it, that does sound very much like something my sibling would do.”

Before Luz could contemplate the other woman’s shifting emotions any further, the witch straightened her spine, tamping down any visible vulnerabilities as she cloaked herself in the responsibilities of her station.

“Regardless, I will warn you one last time: do try to stay out of trouble, especially with Edalyn. Otherwise, our next meeting will not be so civil.”

Without another word, the law mage spun on her heel, striding away from the Owl Lady’s stand with a carefully unhurried pace. Her apprentice, however, lingered for a moment longer, emotions warring across her face as she inspected the young planeswalker manning the stall.

“I’m not quite certain how a human made their way to the Boilings Isles,” Amity began deliberately. “Or how it seems you can perform spells like a witch. But I’m going to figure it out.” She leaned in close, the fires of competition burning in her golden eyes as her lips thinned to a grim line. “And I’ll prove who the better magic user is – no tricks or trinkets, next time.”

Luz quirked a brow at the statement, shifting back with arms folded over her sternum. Was that supposed to be threatening? She’d seen more intimidating bullies crawl out of her middle school during her time in the education system.

“I look forward to it. Now, I was being serious about serving customers…?” She trailed off flatly, directing her best unimpressed look at the witch.

The pale girl snorted in dry amusem*nt, giving the table a considering look as she moved out of the mage’s personal space. It took a few seconds before her gaze alighted on a shining bauble buried under a pile of reclaimed goods, plucking the small broach from the tabletop.

“How much for this?” Amity spoke with disinterest, but Luz could discern the curiosity that had been peaked within the witch at her find.

She held a small golden pin, hammered into the shape of a butterfly mid-flight. The shimmering metal had been polished within an inch of its life, but the faded appearance of aged gold still clung to its silhouette. It was an attractive piece – though compared to some of the extravagant styles Luz had spotted on marketgoers that very day, the piece of human jewelry paled in comparison.

A devious thought occurred to the young planeswalker, causing a cheeky smirk to overtake her expression.

“Ah, that little thing? You can have it, free of charge.” She maintained a nonchalant air, even as the other girl gave her a look of wary surprise.

“Really? Just like that, after this whole – thing?” She gestured vaguely to the retreating form of her mentor in the crowd.

“Of course.” Luz’s Cheshire grin widened further, memories of mischievous friends wreaking havoc in a city faraway coming to mind. “I always give cute girls a nice discount when I’m in charge of the stand.”

It delighted the mage to no end when a blush spilled across the pale witch’s face, her lips puckering in offense at the statement while she stuttered in response.

“Uh – wha – no - excuse me!?”

She had to stifle her giggles behind a palm at the coven witch’s increasingly reddening complexion, waving her down with a snort before the other girl decided to begin a street-side brawl.

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t resist. Just consider it my thanks for not being as – intense as your boss.” Luz’s mirth faded as she eyed the path Lilith Clawthorne had taken, indignation bubbling up once more at the sting of her contentious attitude.

Amity Blight huffed haughtily through her nose, still looking for all the world like a ripe tomato, as she stiffly nodded to the amateur merchant.

“Well – thank you. I suppose.” An awkward moment of silence passed. “I’m going now.”

Much like her mentor, the witch stalked away without any further conversation, leaving Luz to give another good-natured chuckle at her flustered expression while Amity all but fled the scene, trailing after Miss Clawthorne in a hurry.

Gus returned to the stand once the pair were out of sight, an eyebrow co*cked in confusion at the scene as the planeswalker’s laughing finally died down, leaving her winded.

“Wow. What did you say that made her go running like that? I’ve never known Amity Blight to back down from anything. Or anyone.”

Luz sighed happily as she swiped a hand through her hair, leaning her elbows on the table.

“It was nothing – just some teasing. I had a feeling someone like her wouldn’t take to it so well.”

“You mean somebody stuck-up and rude, just like her coven leader?” His hostility was less shocking this time around, but it still elicited a concerned frown from the girl.

“…Yeah. Something like that.” She eyed the glowering boy, picking her words carefully. “She didn’t seem all that terrible to me, though – at least she wasn’t calling me ‘human’ like it was a curse. Did… something happen, between you two?”

Gus shook his head firmly, leaning a hip against the rickety side of the stall table.

“It’s not my place to tell, sorry. But I’m no fan of hers.” He looked skywards contemplatively, humming in thought. “Her siblings were always pretty cool, though. Edric and Emira – they were twins, in the Illusions track a few years above us. I got along with them fairly well, but I haven’t heard from them in a while.” An unconcerned shrug followed the statement.

“Huh. Well, I won’t pry.” She made a mental note to question someone when they were more willing to speak on the subject – perhaps even Amity herself, if the opportunity arose. “So, should I assume that you were sending off texts to Eda to let her know I was getting hassled by her sister at the stand?”

“Yup.” The boy popped the final letter of his response with his tongue, turning to scan the airspace above the Bonesborough market. “She said there were some deals she was wrapping up on the other side of town, but it shouldn’t take her much longer -”

Gus was interrupted by a flurry of motion as the Owl Lady swooped down into the plaza on her staff, a rippling fireball resting above an outstretched palm as she skidded to a stop in front of her stall.

“Lilith, you no-good coven lackey, stay the hell away from my kids and my stand – oh.” Her bristling orb of spellfire petered out as she beheld a distinct lack of any sign of her older sibling. “I guess you scared her off already.” Eda squinted at the surrounding stands and tents, shading her eyes. “I don’t see any out-of-control fires though… how’d you make her back off?”

“Nope, nope, no fighting. Just talking!” Luz waved the pale witch down, directing her attention to the still-standing booth for her human wares. “Apparently, she was taking the day off and didn’t want to start any fights.” She crossed her arms petulantly, muttering under her breath. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to knock her block off when she got all condescending just because I’m human, though.”

“Crap, she noticed that? I thought you were keeping your hood up!” The Owl Lady slapped an open palm to her forehead, exasperation clear. “There’s nothing wrong with you being human, girly – you’re just a rarity around here. And not everybody’s on the level when it comes to keeping to themselves, you know?”

“…How bad is it that Lilith knows I’m not a witch?” The planeswalker asked hesitantly, somewhat dreading the response.

“Unless she goes yammering to her boss – and he cares for whatever reason – then it’s no big deal. It’s other people you gotta watch out for.” Her staff rolled back and forth in one fist, slowly twirling the prone form of Owlbert in an arc. “There’s some wacky demons out there that’d consider humans to be a… delicacy. Folks around here aren’t scrupulous about what they eat.”

The mere thought of being hunted like prey by another sentient person made Luz’s stomach turn – but after her brief bout on Innistrad with its rampant vampire population, she had long since mastered suppressing that kind of unease.

“Okay, I’ll keep it in mind for the future and make sure to wear my hood. It’s just tough with how hot it gets during the afternoon, you know?”

Eda sighed, giving a sagging nod of her head in acknowledgement.

“I know. And it stinks to hide who you are. But it’s for your safety, get me? If the cops catch up with me, I’ll just get dragged off to the Conformatorium. The wrong person finds you, and you’re gonna become their next meal. We’ve gotta ease you in as a regular before we start flaunting your identity.”

“Right, because being imprisoned for life is so fun.” Luz rolled her eyes, but relented under the Owl Lady’s stern glare. “Sorry. I’ll listen to your advice on the subject from now on. But I might need to work out cryomancy before I start dropping from the heat…”

“Another project for another day, then.” The older woman ambled over to the stand, inspecting the items that remained unsold. “So, moving on – how’d we do today with sales? Ya get anybody to stop by?”

The mage nodded, pulling the enchanted lockbox containing the Owl House’s acquired funds from beneath the counter to show her host.

“We did alright, I think – we made just over a hundred or so snails, and cleared out some of the stuff I had cleaned up for sale.” The dented tin swung open, letting Eda count her coin with a grin as she took the box from Luz.

“Alright – not bad for your first time hawking this junk, kid. Good work.” The Owl Lady looked up from her small hoard towards Gus, who had been politely waiting for their conversation to end. “Why don’t you take a break for a bit, go poke around the other stands together? You still got that cash I traded you before?”

“Yup!” Luz hoisted her bulging money satchel from her belt loop, giving it a shake to display its heft. “Didja get what you were looking for, though? I know you had to cut it short to come check on me…”

“Eh, we’re good enough for the moment on supplies. Might just need to make another run sooner, rather than later. Go relax, forget about my snooty sister for a while, maybe pick yourself up something nice on the way. I’ll be here when you kids get back.” The Owl Lady slipped into the vacated stool, her mercantile demeanor sliding into place with a sly grin as she dismissed the pair of teenagers.

“Come on, Luz.” Gus grabbed her hand, excitement lighting his features as they moved away from the Owl Lady’s stall. “You said you wanted to see the kind of stuff they’re selling around here, right? I know a pretty sweet bookstore around the corner…” His eyebrows bounced suggestively, prompting the girl to give a mild chuckle as she was pulled along.

“Sounds like a plan to me. Lead on, good buddy.”

Chapter 10

Chapter Text

“So, didja find anything interesting at the market with the Porter kid?”

The Owl Lady leaned over the spine of her ragged sofa, gazing inquisitively at the aging book in Luz’s hands as the mage alternated between scanning its contents and enjoying her evening meal. The planeswalker gave her host an excited smile, gesturing with her empty fork down towards the open pages.

“Gus and I found some history books about the Isles and the different kinds of magic witches know.” She patted the split spine of the text, a wistful expression on her face. “He said there’s a pretty good chance none of these are anything too old or in-depth, since the Emperor burned a bunch of stuff he thought was ‘dangerous.’” Her fingers dipped into exaggerated air-quotations. “But it’s still neat to read about. I don’t really know anything about the Demon Realm besides what I’ve seen here so far.”

“Well…” Eda drawled, cupping her chin with a lazy smirk. “If you wanted to read the juicy stuff, you shoulda just said so. I’ve got a load of ancient texts about the Savage Ages stored in the house, since I’m the main buyer of anything illegal around here.”

“…Do you do anything involving money that isn’t likely to give your sister an aneurysm?” Luz questioned incredulously, squinting at the older woman.

“Ha! No.”

“Alrighty then.” The mage’s expression cycled rapidly between conflicting emotions, before settling on bemused exasperation. “Well, if you can dig some of them up when you get the chance, I’d appreciate it.” She looked down appreciatively at the book she held open. “I love this kinda stuff whenever I visit a new world.”

“Sounds good, kid. Just don’t let me forget.” The Owl Lady stood from her perch, returning to the kitchen island to finish washing off her own plate, polishing off the unmarked glass of fluorescent orange drink she had previously poured with a sigh.

Silence reigned in the open air of the Owl House for several minutes longer, before the questions Eda had stirred with her curiosity bubbled to the surface of Luz’s mind as she read. Hopefully, the witch was feeling amenable to requests – and was looking for more spellwork to master.

“Hey, Eda. I’ve been thinking since our last lesson…” Her fingers drummed anxiously on the yellowed pages at her knee as she steeled herself for asking a favor. “Since you can connect to the island and ocean for blue magic now, you should be good to play around with whatever kinds of spells you can cook up. But – that’s only one color of mana.” She paused, awaiting her host’s response.

The Owl Lady looked up from the soap-laden sink, brows raising with growing interest at her guest’s statement.

“What’re you thinking, kiddo? Wanna see if you can hook me up with some of the other kinds of magic out there?” She could feel the hunger for knowledge in the witch’s voice – a blue mage, through and through. But Luz could tell that formidable intelligence wasn’t the only thing that defined Edalyn Clawthorne, or her magical ability.

“I was considering…” She started with deliberate care. “That it might be worth a trip up the Titan’s leg, back to where I first planeswalked. I know there’s some mountains up there on the bones, and I’d like to get in touch with the red mana here on the Boiling Isles. It’s one of my primary sources of magic, and it’ll make things easier for me if I can connect with the local spots. I was thinking that you might be interested in going with me.”

“One day at the stand, and you’re looking for a break from dealing with the people in town, huh?” Eda gave her a teasing smirk as she finished toweling off her used dishes, dulling the edge of her comment.

She responded to the jab with her own good-natured chuckle, putting her book aside so that she could meet the witch at her countertop.

“Hey, your sister really wasn’t that bad.” The Owl Lady shifted over so that the girl could reach the faucet, a stream of steaming water leaving in a spurt as she squeezed dish soap onto her empty plate. “I just don’t appreciate her acting all stuck-up because she assumes, I can’t do any spells… and that I’m a criminal.”

Eda gave a derisive scoff at the words, shaking her head in disagreement.

“Lily loves lording her superiority over other people. That’s how you can tell you’ve pissed her off – the mean little snipes about your problems come right on out when she’s all huffy.”

Luz slowed her vigorous scrubbing of the used kitchenware, cautiously considering her response to the bitter comment.

“Have things always been this – negative between you guys?” Her eyes darted to the older woman, an awkward pause breaking her question before she soldiered onwards. “She wasn’t being nice about it, but… Lilith didn’t seem very happy talking about arresting anyone for the less-than-legal stuff you get up to.”

Eda gave another resigned shake of her head, her silvery mane flowing back and forth as she leaned against the island counter, arms folded defensively.

“We used to be fine as kids, but – things change.” The look on her face was distant and melancholic, gaze set on nothing as she pondered her relationship with her sister. “People change. They grow apart. Make mistakes. Sometimes – things happen that you can’t control, and it hurts.” Her grave, golden eyes bored into the mage’s features. “I know you’ve experienced it, too.”

The planeswalker tensed, giving a hesitant nod of confirmation as her thoughts centered on the disastrous enchantment several nights before that had unearthed long-dormant regrets.

The silence returned in full force as Luz finished wiping her scuffed ceramic plate clean, the comfortable camaraderie dampened by unpleasant considerations. It wasn’t long before Eda gave an explosive sigh, clapping one hand to her guest’s shoulder and making her startle slightly.

“Sorry to get all serious there, kid. My sister tends to bring out the best and worst of me.” Her hand dropped from Luz’s arm as the Owl Lady gazed contemplatively towards the rafters above. “Getting back on topic – I’m definitely game for getting to learn new types of spells and the like.” Her head tilted with avian curiosity as she regarded the mage, regretful countenance dropping in lieu of more interesting conversation. “How long d’you think a trip like that would be - just an afternoon? A whole week, to go roll around in the dirt and connect with nature…?”

She snorted in amusem*nt, tapping her chin consideringly as she reflected on their prior magical lessons.

“I’d think maybe a few days up on the mountain, definitely no more than a week. Now that you have some experience with reaching out to natural mana, it should be a bit easier for you to pick up another color of magic, so long as it’s something in-character for you.” She directed a small, sly grin at her host. “Would you say you’re pretty passionate about the things you do?”

The Owl Lady barked out an exaggerated guffaw, planting hands at her hips as she threw her head back in mirth.

“Ha. As if you even need to ask!” She threw her arms wide, an ethereal wind swirling through the kitchen and ruffling her expansive silver locks beneath her effortless show of power. “I’m Eda the Owl Lady, the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles – I do everything with feeling and flair. Puts on a good show for the people, you know?” The older woman directed a pair of finger-guns at the giggling young planeswalker, completing the ridiculous gesture with sound effects. “If that’s all I need to sling fire like you, I’ve got this in the bag.”

“Alright, alright, you’ve convinced me.” Luz waved the excitable woman down from her high horse, laughter slowing to a few warm chuckles as she reigned in her amusem*nt. “I’m sure it’ll go great. When would you want to start heading out, then? Do we have enough cash saved up to take a vacation like that?”

“Well, your little stint at the stand definitely helped with that.” A lazy sweep of the witch’s hand summoned her savings box from another room, one long claw popping open the olive drab tin as the Owl Lady counted her coin once again. “We may go through a good amount of this in a week feeding three or four people, but it’s not gonna break the bank to take a quick little trip like you’re suggesting.”

She snapped the container closed once more, telekinetically dismissing the lockbox with another easy gesture as it soared through the living room, and back upstairs.

“’Sides, I’ll just ask Willow real nice if she can watch the boys while we’re away. I’m sure her and Gus would be good to hang out around here and make sure King doesn’t do something dumb, like get Hooty to warm up the house by setting himself on fire, or whatever.”

The older woman wrapped one slender arm around Luz’s shoulders, giving her an eager shake.

“It’ll be a trip for the girls – just you and me! We’ll make a good time of it.”

The planeswalker gave her a luminous smile, feeling her own hopes rise at the thought.

“Sounds like a plan to me. When do you want to get moving tomorrow morning?”

“So, Luz.” The Owl Lady picked her way up the rocky mountain path, leading the charge into the wilderness with her knowledge of the local terrain. “You know how I was getting pretty hyped for this whole shebang?”

“Of course. What’s the matter?”

“Yeah, I’m starting to rethink this part.” Eda shook a handful of clinging gravel from the underside of her boot, giving the offending soil a flat look. “When you said ‘let’s go up the Titan’s Knee,’ I figured you meant on Owlbert - my staff? Like normal people.”

“…Well, maybe we can go back down with him.” Luz conceded, nodding at the sentiment. “But – come on!”

She split from the rough pathway, darting off to the seaside cliff climbing diagonally into the sky, the grand vista of the Boiling Seas stretching out below as the foliage split along the edges of the gigantic skeletal thighbone.

“Just look at this view! It’s gorgeous out here, in the woods.” She took a deep, deliberate breath, the fresh scents of a living, growing forest filtering through the air. “You’d really wanna skip all of this and take the easy way up? Not even stop to see all of these amazing sights?”

“Yes.” The witch deadpanned, adjusting the sling that held her bulging satchel and staff over one shoulder as she waited for her stationary charge to resume moving.

“Pfft! Where’s your sense of adventure?” She shook her head, a teasingly sardonic tone leaking into her words. “My mentors always taught me that a healthy body makes for a healthy mind!”

“I think I’d rather go bare-knuckles against the entire Emperor’s Coven than spend a whole day sweating my skinny white rear off, walking up the largest mountain on the Isles.” She blew a gust of air from her nostrils, expression set in a stubborn grimace as she examined their surroundings wearily. “You know there’s a difference between connecting with nature – which I enjoy – and torturing yourself with plants and dirt, right?”

The planeswalker shifted over to her tiring guide, giving the woman a comforting pat on the shoulder alongside an apologetic smile.

“Hey, I get it. Hiking’s not for everybody. If the going gets tougher from here, we’ll just hop on Owlbert and ride right up, okay?”

“Sounds good to me.” Eda shook her head despondently, her expression softening. “Sorry for griping, kid. I know you were excited ‘bout coming up this way.”

“It’s fine!” Luz waved the older woman’s concerns away, turning back to the trail. “Not like anybody’s going to be having much fun if somebody falls on their face during the walk, right? Like I said – we have to take a break, or just fly on up, we’ll do it. But for now, let’s see how much further we can get.”

Eda acquiesced the point with a grunt, and the pair continued their trek to the mountains of the Knee.

The ancient depths of the undisturbed woodland encompassing their chosen hiking trail swelled with the deep, entangled growth of a land left untouched by destructive hands. The trunks of trees swirled and thickened with gnarled expansions, their branches reaching heartily for the light far above the forest canopy. Thick brush sprouted along the clearing of the witch-made path, a dense undergrowth swelling and dipping like an organic carpet around grasping roots of life older than the first settlements of the Boiling Isles.

Green mana suffused everything in sight of the planeswalker, its creeping tides flowing like lifeblood through each and every plant occupying the timberlands. It reminded her heavily of the arcane woods she had once traipsed through on the distant world of Eldraine, the eldritch manipulation of freely flowing magic leaving the land bursting with colorful and varied flora and fauna. Where that plane was picturesque and carefully cultivated by the demands of higher fae powers, however, the Isles were primeval and untamed. It fittingly brought to mind the sense of a slumbering beast, the seedbed of the Titan’s fallen form giving the life thriving amongst its remains a feeling of unknowable divinity.

Light punched sparsely through the thick green growth along the mountain path, dainty sunbeams illuminating patches of rocky soil and verdant forest life as the two women hiked their way towards the peak of the Knee. They had made good time – leaving the Owl House at an early hour, the sun barely up, and with Hooty having strict instructions to allow Willow and Gus access to the home once they arrived later in the day. By Luz’s reckoning, they were rapidly approaching their destination, with the sun only now reaching its zenith as the mages found their way to the mountain range proper.

As the pair climbed higher, steep paths of crushed rock and dense forest gave way for level, craggy plateaus, offering gentle hillside slopes along with the occasional clearing of greenery - exposing the edges of the expansive forest and growing peaks to reach up through the woodlands. Every so often, Luz would call for a rest, letting the two catch their breath and take swigs from the enchanted waterskins Eda had been kind enough to provide. Were she on Earth, the planeswalker would have made do with stainless steel bottles – but the potent magic of the Isles suffused the soft leather pouches, leaving them unnaturally chilled against the sweltering heat flooding the woods.

It was high noon by the time Luz relented in her decision to forge ahead on foot, allowing a relieved Owl Lady to take them the remainder of the ascending trip on Owlbert’s sturdy frame as they witnessed the full scope of the mountains sprouting above the Titan’s Knee. The planeswalker sheepishly admitted that perhaps she had not truly grasped the scale of the island’s arches, but Eda was too pleased at easing the burden of their journey to do more than lightly rib her for the naïve assumption. Instead, the pair donned the thick winter jackets that Eda had packed, knowing for as hot as it was at the journey’s midpoint that the cap of the mountain range would be frozen over at their final altitude.

The sweet mountain air was thin and crisp, the temperature pleasantly cool in spite of the season as the spellcasters soared over the thinning woods, and into the tundra-esque region surrounding the foot of monstrous peaks. Spikes and swirls of red mana fluttered through the sky erratically, the energetic bursts of transparent magic dipping around Owlbert’s staff as they descended into a clearing marred by a smattering of clean snow.

Forested magics were steady and plodding, creeping waves of aether suffusing their environment. But mountains attracted the worldly power of passion – jagged ridgelines scraping the sky, challenging every being treading their paths to survive or fall by their own merit.

There was something truly invigorating in being apart of something so wild and ferociously grand.

Upon their landing, Eda set upon removing the scattered banks of snow coating the hard soil, using circling swipes of her staff in conjunction with bursts of mental force to scrape out a patch of exposed ground to make camp upon. In the meanwhile, the planeswalker began assembling the resources they would need for a more comfortable stay – hunting down the driest fallen wood possible, dragging the flaking logs into the snowless opening even as she focused on developing her connection with the land.

Red mana lashed out and around the pair, naturally chafing against her reach – but Luz was no mere novice when it came to harnessing the ferocious elements. She let her determination flare up from within, leaning into the aggravated swells of crimson magic as they tried to wrest themselves free, drawing on her forged connections to distant lands so as to bolster the spell she sought. It took a good few moments before she could summon up the magic beneath her palms, threatening to burst from her grasp as she enclosed the magic in pure intent. Gently, so gently, she released her retained breath – and an enchantment fluttered from her open hands, settling about the pile of logs she’d gathered as a warm, arid blanket. Given a short while, the spell would ring the moisture from the wood – perfect for use in a campfire.

Spotting the Owl Lady hard at work wrestling the cloth tent she had conjured for shelter during their trip, Luz instead wandered around the prepared zone, drawing on her sources of both green and red mana as she tamped down the frozen soil. Light stomps shot soft bursts of power into the ground that ripped through the permeating frost. It would be much more comfortable for their practice – and slumber – if the topsoil were not so unyielding.

It was as she was crushing the dirt down into a crude fire pit that Eda came to inspect her work, eyeing her efforts appreciatively as Luz finished crafting a soft depression for the campfire.

“Nice job setting up the camp, kid.” Her brow raised in consideration. “Gonna guess that your foreign buddies were the ones that taught you how to rough it in the woods, huh?”

“Yup! The Kor were pretty mobile in the jungle. Same with the Gruul clans – even if they liked hanging out in old ruins. I spent a lot of time sleeping outside when I was staying with them.” She dusted her hands off on the borrowed jacket, making to move towards the treeline. “Lemme just get a latrine going, and -”

“Hold your horses, girly.” A clawed hand shot out, snagging her thick hood and arresting her momentum. “I’m all for the camping experience, but seriously. We’ve got magic to burn.”

The Owl Lady brought both hands around in an arc, ripping a glowing circle into the brisk air with open palms. The sparking ring shot forward, expanding and solidifying into an aged wooden door, propped upright in its frame as it settled firmly against the soil bordering the treeline. In demonstration, the witch stepped forward, pulling the knob open with a turn to reveal –

“Is that the bathroom back at the house?” And – just as importantly – how did she manage a spell like that? Creating a stable long-distance portal was no mean feat by any standard. Luz couldn’t help the tick of excitement at the casual display of such useful spellcasting.

“Yup.” Eda gave the mage a firm look. “No faffing around in the woods. You want a shower or whatever? Just go through here. And if Hooty sticks his head in the window, feel free to give him a whack. He should know better than that.”

“…Huh. Well, alright. I think I can live with some creature comforts.”

“That’s the spirit.” The older woman shut the door with a firm shove. “Now, let’s get the boring set-up work done so we can move onto the fun stuff: blowing things up with magic!” She emphasized her statement with a clap, a voracious grin on her face.

While the light of the midday sun helped maintain the comfortable climate around the growing campsite, it would not be able to guarantee warmth in a few hours. Instead, Luz set about gathering the rage of the mountains into her breast once more as she kneeled in the softened clay. She felt the same rigid determination fill her as she once again fell into the wild flow of the local mana, warping it to fit her needs with a thought. When the spell expanded in a shimmering, transparent dome from her seated position, she stood, gathering the film of glossy enchantment to her as she traveled the edge of the camp. Her spell thinned as she moved from its core, anchoring its boundaries in a wide arc about the camp proper and leaving a pleasant blanket of heat behind. The spell wouldn’t last more than a few days, but that was all she truly anticipated for their stay.

The squirming tendrils of untamed red mana slid from her mental grasp, but it didn’t bother Luz. It would be easier to finalize her connection once she and Eda began further training – even in such notable abundance, red magic very much sought to escape, or be applied physically.

The pair took a short break for lunch, a handful of fruit and sandwiches preserved in Eda’s satchel by the same refrigeration sorceries that were woven into their waterskins. The witch questioned her eagerly about the enchantment she had woven into her campsite that kept the air enjoyably warm, leaving Luz to explain how she had been taught the spell by Gruul shamans to help balance any ill climates that their packmates had selected for resting in. Even summer nights would grow chilled, and keeping frostbite at bay for your warriors was imperative in the wilderness.

“So…” The Owl Lady drawled lazily. “What were you thinkin’ for getting me in touch with the Knee? I don’t know how much more meditation I can take before I start yanking my hair out, so I’ll gladly do some alternatives.”

“Well, red magic is all about power – and passion. Like I’ve said before.” The girl pushed herself upright, offering a hand to the witch and pulling her up from the ground. “I’ve always found that I connect best with it when I’m up and moving, especially if I can focus on something I’m feeling really strongly.”

Her hand cupped her chin in thought, squinting at the older woman contemplatively.

“Why don’t…” She started slowly. “We set up some targets, and go to town on them. I’ll show you what I know how to do, and you can start working on reaching out for the mana. Maybe try – swapping between attacks?” Her hand teetered back and forth uncertainly. “Make a fireball the way you know, and then focus being angry or determined about doing the same thing, but without a spell circle.”

They put their theory to the test, with the addition of Eda summoning some of the junk scattered about her property as appropriate test dummies, away from the flammable tree line.

“The red magic I know is pretty straightforward -” Luz began her lecture, captivating the Owl Lady’s attention. “Throwing fireballs and lightning, or pumping a bunch of mana right into my body to make me faster and stronger. Besides that, it’s mostly utility stuff, like my enchantments from earlier.”

To demonstrate her statement, the planeswalker angled her body towards the line of scrap targets, lunging forward with a clawed gesture as she called upon the ferocity of arcing skyborne power. A jagged bolt of lightning erupted from her palm as the thrumming flow of the wilds filled her mind, scorching the assembled dummy with a notable bang when the attack connected. She didn’t interrupt the stream of energy swelling within, stepping forward to punch her other fist out in front of her – and the buzzing sliver of power streaked outwards as a blistering fireball, blasting apart a second pile of refuse.

She could feel her control over the peaks of the Titan’s Knee sliding into place, the bursts of raw might aligning with her body and soul as she called upon the mountains to rain destruction.

“There’s so many ways to do that stuff, I can’t keep track of it all." Luz admitted, sharing an enthusiastic grin with her partner. “But let’s get you making sparks before we try anything like a lightning storm.”

The Owl Lady set to her task with an admirable determination, her face scrunched up in concentration as she unleashed waves of uncontrolled attacks upon her dummies. Her young mentor continued stretching her newfound connection to the local mountains to its limit, but Luz couldn’t help sneaking peaks at the pale witch as she tackled her task with ferocity.

She hadn’t fully comprehended the depths of Eda’s power, before, with no outlet for her own brand of destructive spells to be unleashed. However, in the expanse of the timberlands – far from prying eyes or vulnerable bystanders – the older woman’s grasp of ruinous magic was clear. Bolts of hardlight tore through rotting wood; wheeling spikes of fire and telekinetic force smashed rusting scrap apart; jagged tongues of erupting rock blew through hastily reassembled targets. Luz could see her focus and frustration growing in turns, the empty gestures of her off-hand making Eda bristle as she struggled to meet the anger of the wilds with her own.

If the mage were honest with herself, it was both awe-inspiring and a little frightening just how outclassed she felt before her own student, even as she watched her take the first steps to understanding red magic.

If there was one thing that she had learned at the foot of her instructors, however, it was that strength could come in many forms – and a planeswalker was nothing without her allies. She ran through a few more a few more assaults on the dummies of her own, stepping up the complexity and power with each swipe of her hand: delayed blasts, splitting twinbolts, a localized firestorm to engulf the targets. The steady pulse of red mana through her limbs was indescribably exhilarating – even as Luz wore down her stamina with the intense exercise, she felt progressively more in tune with the mountainous slopes, more alive with every spell.

Finally, with her connection solidified to the local terrain, she paused in the barrage – only to funnel the magic into a familiar siren’s call to cast into the Blind Eternities. She had some friends to check up on, after all.

Reality tore asunder for a split second as Luz reached out with her soul, brushing up against the approach of a wild, alien mind that gleefully enwrapped her in warmth. A moment later, the sky burst over her and Eda’s heads in a wave of fire – and the air rang with the cry of a reborn phoenix.

The crackling firebird dropped from the airways above, startling the Owl Witch and leaving her frozen as the sizable elemental winged down to meet its summoner with another joyful screech.

“Odin!” Luz caught the descending phoenix on one outstretched arm, the natural flares of the spirit’s fire dimming down into a harmless, comforting blaze. “I’ve missed you, bud. How are things with the Gruul back home?”

The bird of prey gave a chittering caw as his companion ran bent fingers through the burning plumage of his throat, satisfaction evident in its friendly excitement. The Owl Lady, meanwhile, gave a low whistle at the sight.

“Damn, Luz. Didn’t realize you were so good with those ‘elemental’ types you mentioned, besides Big Green the other day.” She circled the cheery pair, inspecting the avian with fascination. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen a phoenix like this, either. Normally they’re a bit less like a giant, angry bonfire all the time.” Eda paused, looking slightly concerned. “That is normal, right?”

“For a Skarrgan firebird like Odin? You betcha.” She turned to look at the intrigued witch, allowing the sizable eagle to shift his weight closer to her shoulder for ease of carrying. “He’s pretty young, by their standards – I don’t think he’s even molted yet. Give it enough time, he’ll be the size of the Owl House before he goes up in flames and becomes a cute little chick again.”

The burning avian preened at the attention, snuggling up against his longtime friend with another low call.

“Huh.” The Owl Lady continued eyeing the handsome bird, crossing her arms as she thought. “You might have to show me how to start summoning critters soon – I’d love to pull something like that out of my hat on a whim.”

“It’s definitely a useful skill.” Luz agreed, bobbing her head. “But first -”

“I gotta connect with the mountains, blah blah blah.” The witch waved her reminder off with a single hand. “I’m well aware, kiddo. And on that note – let’s get back to it.”

Their attempts at having the older witch harness the red mana in the skies continued valiantly on until the approach of dusk, with the eager Odin aiding Luz in spicing up her attacks with vicious divebombs and flashing bursts of fire. Sadly – just as before – Eda was unsuccessful in achieving the rapid connection to the Isles that she sought, leaving the pair exhausted and ready for a rest as night crept over the horizon. They concluded the training for the day by having the pale witch flash-melt the remaining snow with a burst of spellfire, leaving Luz to seize control of the heated liquid and douse the burning remnants of their targets with a wave of water.

That night, the pair of spellcasters each took a spot on the sturdy log they had scavenged from the woods, sitting side by side as their respective familiars perched alongside them. Owlbert cuddled into Eda’s collar with ease due to his size, while Odin nestled in his companion’s lap, the ethereal flames composing his being barely tickling her exposed hands as she stroked the length of his spine.

The merry sizzling of vegetables and some form of bacon left Luz with a watering mouth, and neither of them wasted time digging into the cooked provisions once they were cool enough to safely consume.

“Where’d you find a big ol’ phoenix like him, anyway?” The Owl Lady broke the comfortable silence as they polished off the remainder of their meals, swiping a bit of golden fluid from her lip and tossing her emptied bottle aside. “You mentioned something about those ‘Gruul’ people earlier?”

Luz gave an affirmative nod at the question.

“One of the places the clans on Ravnica like to meet up at is Skarrg – it’s a giant, underground wreck of a palace that’s a few millennia old.” The mage explained, resuming her petting of the content firebird in her lap. “Last time the better part of the guild met up there, Domri and I went along for the ride. He suggested I make some friends to help me out in battles for the future, so… I found some of the newly hatched phoenixes.” She gave a bashful smile at the memory. “I can say with certainty, that momma firebirds do not like strangers in the nest. Thankfully, Odin here took to me pretty quick after he left the nest, and spent some time with me and Domri’s clan up on the surface.”

“Ha! I bet your pals weren’t expecting you to almost get torched trying to butter up some angry fire pigeons.” Eda shook her head in mirthful disbelief, leaning back a bit from the fire as she reminisced. “I pulled something similar back in the day. Pissed my parents and sister off pretty bad when I caught a huge, angry owl out in the woods and let it go in the house.” She grinned brightly at the thought. “Even as a kid, I knew how to stick to a theme.”

They spent some time making pleasant small-talk, stories of fun times as children and teens passing with ease as the stars winked into existence above them. Luz was enamored by tales of a magical education system, rife with danger and powerful spells freely foisted on young witches, while Eda was intrigued by her stories of faraway worlds and their alien landscapes. By her reckoning, information about a bunch of kids learning low-level magic didn’t mean much, even if her retelling was interspersed with amusing anecdotes of both herself and Lilith as children. Instead, the Owl Lady was enraptured by the descriptions of other planes, how varied they could be – and her young companion had traveled a fair few of them. The enormous artificial mage-rings of Vryn, acting as mana conduits; the titanic watery foliage of Pyrulea, with the inverted sky and sun forming a Dyson Sphere above its occupants; even the idea of a world such as Shandalar – simple in form, but loosed from its moorings in the multiverse and drifting through time and space – came across as priceless information to the Isles-bound witch.

Eventually, there was a break in the conversation, leaving Luz free to ponder the canvas of shining stars dotting the spread of night. It still amazed her, even after several weeks, just how brilliant the constellations above could illuminate the Boiling Isles in the evening.

The Owl Lady seemed to track her train of thought, giving her own skywards glance.

“Does it look like this, on other worlds? You seem to really enjoy stargazing when you get the chance.” Her question was innocent and considering, as the woman pondered on the details of distant planes she had been gifted that night.

“It depends. Certain places have really beautiful skies, others it’s hard to see anything from where civilization is.” A pause, as old memories rose to the fore. “Earth – the ‘Human Realm’ – had that problem. There was so much light pollution, only really rural areas ever got to see the stars like this.” Luz shook her head, a twinge of disappointment in her voice. “My town back in Connecticut was too close to the big cities. I didn’t really get to do any of this before I… yeah.”

Eda didn’t respond immediately, and the planeswalker braced herself for what she knew was coming next.

“Sounds like it wasn’t always the best, back home.” A deliberate pause from the older woman, before she pushed forward, carefully nonchalant. “Is that why you ended up leaving?”

The conversation petered out momentarily as Luz drew in a deep breath, releasing the air from her lungs in a lengthy, whispering sigh. The night air remained unbroken for several long moments.

“When I was younger, my mami and I – we got into a fight.”

“Luz, mi amor, look at me.” Her mother’s eyes were intense, grave. “You can’t keep doing this. You have to show some restraint. You have to think.”

“It wasn’t the first time. But it was the last.”

“You can’t possibly tell me that you thought bringing maldita sea fireworks into school was a good idea.” There was anger in her voice, now. “Not after everything else they’ve called you into the office for.”

“I love my mom, but sometimes it just felt like – she didn’t really get me. Like she didn’t really try.”

“What if they thought it was a bomb, Luz Noceda? What if they called the policia on you?” She was growing hysterical.

“I couldn’t deal with the fights, and the screaming, and the angry teachers anymore. So I – I left.”

“What if they take you away from me, mija!?”

“Planeswalkers only get their sparks when they’re... hurting. Really badly. I guess that’s what did it for me.”

“I won’t always be there to protect you.”

“I didn’t really know what was happening at first. I just – showed up, on Zendikar. After a while I got lucky, and found my Kor tribe.”

“I love you, mija. You know that. Don’t you?”

“Beyond that – well, the rest is history. I guess.”

There was a painful, uninterrupted stillness for several minutes. Odin could sense the distress through their bond, feel the tears threatening to slip through her defenses, leaving the spirit to give a mournful call as he pressed his feathered skull against Luz’s chin in comfort. She held her burning companion close, eyes tightly shut – until a warm, pale arm tugged them close, wrapped around her shoulders.

“Gah. Seems like all I do is make you wanna cry, kid. Sorry about that.” Luz leaned into the embrace, giving a watery chuckle at the comment. “Thanks for opening up, though. Means a lot that you trust me enough to tell me about all of the namby-pamby ‘feelings’ stuff.”

In that moment, the planeswalker felt a surge of gratitude that fate had seen fit to let her reach the Boiling Isles. She hadn’t had this many hugs in years. Luz had missed genuinely compassionate friends – eking out life amongst the barbarians of Ravnica simply wasn’t the same.

“Just want to let you know -” Eda’s scratchy voice tickled her ear. “That you’ve got a place at the Owl House with me and the boys. I’m not planning on giving anybody the boot, anytime soon. Ya got me?” The witch poked her in the shoulder, a lightly teasing lilt to her words.

“Yeah. I understand.” The ember of content warmth in her chest made Luz wish that the night would never end. “I still – I do want to learn about your Earth stuff, though. I can’t… avoid problems with home forever. There’s a lot more than I’d like.”

Like how she was supposed to get home.

The Owl Lady hummed knowingly, nodding in an absent manner.

“Not only that, but we still have our deal on the table. So – I’ll tell you what. You’ve done good by me with these magic lessons, so when we get back to the house, we can start going over some of the crap I know, and the sources I’ve got. There’s a few ways all that human crud shows up for me to use. Sound good?”

“Mhm.”

Not much else was said, after that – not until yawns forced their way to the surface for the women, breaking the peaceful lull in the night.

Luz was ushered off to shower first, stepping into the disembodied washroom of the distant Owl House to clean up for the evening. She took care of business quickly, swapping off for Eda’s turn while she resumed her seat with Odin and Owlbert at the crackling campfire.

The Owl Lady was quick to retire for the night upon her return to the campsite, drawing a promise from the young mage to try and get some sleep shortly so that they could be well-rested for the following day of training. Luz gave her an absent-minded affirmation, watching as a bundle of dark clouds rolled over the gorgeous night sky, even as the moon ascended into the heavens.

Eda was fast asleep and lightly snoring by the time the first flakes of snow fell from the sky, easily melted by the aura of permeating warmth that Luz had enchanted into being around the site. It was otherworldly, sitting in a bubble devoid of the drifting precipitation that was clearly in sight.

Feeling whimsical, the planeswalker summoned a small werelight with the flick of her wrist, the meager white spell easy to achieve in the calm night as she dug her treasured sketchbook from its place in her pack. She tromped to the edge of the enchanted bubble as her avian companions dozed, extending an arm beyond the boundary to catch a fat flake of snowfall in her palm. A light flex of her will, and the pervasive heat avoided her open hand, leaving the girl to examine the crystalline droplet under the light of her spell.

The flake melted, in time, prompting Luz to snag a few more from the air. It was intriguing, how identical they were – a fragile latticework of interlocking bars and circles making up the center of each bit. She sat on a stray log by the edge of her spellwork, idly doodling the pattern of the snow, retrieving a new muse each time the prior piece disintegrated until her eyelids began drooping.

She snapped the booklet full of clean scribblings shut with her hand, distantly considering returning to the pattern in the future when given the opportunity. There was beauty in drawing something so simplistic, yet complex at the same time.

Stowing her possessions safely for the night, Luz curled up within her sleeping roll alongside the unconscious Owl Lady, her eyes sliding shut with an exhausted sigh beneath the dark canvas of their tent.

There was always something needing doing – and tomorrow would see their training continue onwards.

Hopefully with greater success.

The otherworldly dream had returned once more.

An alien canopy sprouted between tremendous ribs, filled with the hissing of drifting fog and falling droplets of water. The vertebrae Luz walked were slick with moist growths and scuffed patches of crumbling soil.

The ethereal quality of the realm was only amplified by its newest addition, just out of sight. She couldn’t discern the depths of the misty void enclosing the Titan’s carcass, but she could see the disturbing flicker of distant fires far below lick across swaying tree trunks and in flashes across drifting clouds of steam.

The skull of the beast loomed over her once more as she approached, indomitable and inscrutable, the parasitic growths of new life swallowing its features. The first grand trunk to eclipse an eye socket was joined by a twin, ripping through the vacant cavity to the invisible sky.

Boiling clouds of vapor erupted in trickles from the massive maw of the corpse, accompanied by irregular sputters of flaming, molten stone leaking between titanic fangs. The blobs of burning rock burst erratically from the skeletal grin, slapping wetly against the curvature of the spinal cord in fat gobs, spitting and hissing at Luz’s feet.

The squeal of erupting steam was a voice. Its passage held unbound words.

Splat.

“Traveler.” A crawling whisper in a thousand tongues, overlapping and swirling like the superheated moisture that carried the message.

Splurt.

“Far.”

Slap.

“From.”

Slurp.

“Home.”

The descending magma was eating through the Titan’s spine, threatening to tear its crown from its collar. Luz felt no fear though - only curiosity. She had just enough time to voice her query.

“Who are you?”

There was no answer, no further recognition. Only the creaking of disintegrating bone as her footing gave way, sending her tumbling down, down, down into the void once more.

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

In spite of Luz’s boundless optimism – and the Owl Lady continually applying herself heartily to the task at hand – it took the witch just shy of four days to finally reach the breakthrough she had so desperately sought in wielding red mana.

Her ongoing difficulties had little to do with given effort. Each morning, the pair of women would rise shortly after the appearance of the sun, and they would stretch out their senses to the untamed world around them to bask in the rich magics of the Boiling Isles. Their days would be filled with determined brainstorming, each hour bringing new and creative efforts by which Eda might finally grasp the spells that eluded her repeatedly. The magic users tried anything they could think of – small to large, subtle to bombastic. Nothing seemed to present the final push into understanding that the witch required.

She didn’t let her progressively fouler mood affect interactions with the young planeswalker. They would release their frustrations through target practice, casual conversations, and even some light sparring. It turned out that Eda did know some basic applications of a staff for melee combat, something which Luz eagerly demonstrated her prowess with to her intrepid student. It provided a pleasant distraction from the older woman’s hardships in harnessing new magics.

Where the Owl Lady grew more aggravated each day, her young mentor found herself with an expanding sense of confidence. It was rare that she was given the opportunity to flex her magical muscles to their breaking point day after day, pressing against her personal boundaries so as to provide fruitful examples to Eda. She rose with the sun and retired with distant stars while ferocious red mana coursed through her soul, coming with greater ease each passing day. Luz found herself thoroughly enjoying their immersion into the wilds of the islands, whiling away the hours with good company in the form of her housemate, alongside their avian familiars.

Mealtimes allowed them a moment of much-needed respite between hours of concerted soul-searching and magical practice, lessening some of the Owl Lady's growing tension as they unwound around the fire. She continued to doggedly down her odd drink of choice - a fact that had not escaped Luz's notice. She pondered, idly, why the witch seemed more interested in her sickly orange juice than simple water. Maybe it was some sort of vitamin supplement? Her mami had started relying on such things as she'd gotten along in years, making offhanded comments about caring for her health before it was too late to matter when asked. With each passing night, the witch's bulging satchel clinked less and less with the rattle of packed glass - but she seemed unconcerned, her steely will locked onto the glimmering horizon of success, and so Luz put it from her mind as they focused on their spellcrafting.

For all of the pleasure she derived from their venture into the Titan’s Knee, however, she could not shake a nagging thorn of unease with their extended solitude.

Nothing untoward had occurred for them – at least not yet. But there were a number of oddities that she picked up on as time passed, scavenging the woodlands for valuable resources. The most outstanding item of note was the passing of local wildlife – one evening had seen their meal interrupted with the rumbling footsteps of a great, shaggy beast beyond the trees, which Eda explained to her in hushed tones was a local ‘slitherbeast.’ They were docile unless provoked, their diet veering away from preying upon the local witch populations in favor of other, less dangerous targets.

The niggling of discomfort didn’t disappear after the sighting. Odin seemed to sense something was amiss at times, his vigilant gaze sweeping through the brush every so often without obvious provocation. Paths in the lingering snowfall seemed disturbed by some kind of traveler, though there were no overt imprints of boots to locate. It was possibly some local citizen, or another hiker, drawn by the sounds of fierce magical training in the clearing they had occupied. Regardless, nothing had revealed itself as the culprit, and Luz allowed her heightened vigilance to slowly relax.

It was entirely possible that she was simply imagining these occurrences – especially as she had been feeling the nonexistent eyes of the Isles at her back since the return of her befuddling dream of the Titan.

There was a quality to the unconscious visions that left Luz stewing in befuddlement. Nightmares and the like would come and go as she spent her time exploring the Boiling Isles, but none had yet proven as vivid as the dreams depicting her travels along the bare spine of the fallen giant. They were uniformly otherworldly, unnerving – but the details that she encountered during each visit during her rest felt so solid, so crisp that the mage almost believed she was walking a parallel realm in the real world.

In response to the disturbance of the odd, inconsistent nighttime occurrences, Luz had resorted to diagramming her half-remembered dream journeys within the sketchbook she kept close at hand for the trip. She had taken to idly drawing current thoughts on the rough paper during resting periods in their bouts of training, alternating between grasping for the details of her Titan dream and the current surroundings. There had even been another midnight flurry of frozen precipitation on the second evening, allowing her to sharpen the sketches of the enigmatic ice crystals that she had captured in graphite before.

The planeswalker was absorbed in her methodical doodling, left hand cautiously hovering above the page so as to not smudge the developing image, when the howl of rage came from Eda across the clearing.

“Titan damn this dippy, red, load of magical garbage!” Her staff shot clear across the hillside, Owlbert thankfully free of his perch, sending the carved pole to impale a sack of hay on the far end of the firing range they had established. The Owl Lady threw her hands skyward, gesturing emphatically at everything and nothing as she raved at the elements.

“’Feel this,’ and ‘feel that’ – the only thing I’m feeling is my blood pressure shooting through the roof!” Her clawed hands flexed angrily, the witch panting under the force of her own fury as she seethed towards the uncooperative nature of red mana. “Just want to do some new magic, that’s all. But what do I get? A hot bunch of phooey, that’s what!”

Luz was uncertain whether she should go and giggle quietly to herself at the targetless rage she was witnessing, or try to comfort the pale woman so that she might calm down. After a moment, she decided on letting Eda work the swelling tide of anger from her system manually, silently vowing to provide some encouragement if her student grew any more wrathful. The mage turned her head back to the half-finished drawing she was currently working on of the Knee’s distant peaks – only to give a bemused squint at the sudden, poor quality of the lighting in the clearing. That didn’t seem quite right.

She looked up at the darkening sky, a trill of alarm running through her. There hadn’t been any rain or snow during the midday for the length of their trip – was a squall about to blow into the camp?

The Owl Lady failed to notice the incoming inclement weather, still growling and muttering to herself with a look of burning mania in her eye.

“Starting to think this whole ‘mana’ thing is a bunch of crud. Sure, I can make the stupid water help me move crap around with just my brain, but oh – the mountains get to have an opinion about my skills!” The witch chopped her arms up and down, as if she could cut through the air with her flailing fists if she just tried hard enough.

The approaching storm was small, but the swells of clouds were heavy with slate grey promise. Luz jumped to her feet in mounting concern, moving over to her oblivious companion with jacket in hand, a warning on the tip of her tongue.

“I’m not some two-bit witch you can just ignore, you heap of blasted rocks!” The older woman snarled, rage blinding her to anything but the distant targets that mocked her with their standing silhouettes. “If that damned school couldn’t keep me down, if my own family can’t stop me -”

“Eda, there’s a storm coming up on us.” The harried planeswalker tried valiantly to distract her.

“– Then there’s no way I’m gonna fold to a gigantic -”

“Eda…”

“- stinking -”

“Hey! I’m serious -”

“- pile of bones!”

The witch threw her exposed arms up and away from her, defiance in every inch of her posture, and –

KrakTHOOM.

The swirling maelstrom above ripped open the sky with a fat bolt of electricity, its forked tongue licking down into the clearing before the spellcasters… and blasting their assembled targets apart with the fury of an uncaged storm.

The thunderous roar of the seething tempest hit them a moment later, leaving the stunned women to stumble backwards and away from the explosion as the shockwave split the air in the clearing. Only a second afterwards did the Owl Lady’s staff come tearing out of the sky, spearing into the ground where the witch had previously stood and kicking up mounds of dry dirt as it landed – smoking and stinging with crawling fingers of lightning, but blessedly intact despite the bolt that had struck its position.

The pair laid where they fell, mouths agape at the power of the destruction wrought before them. The avian familiars scattered with panicked screeches, fluttering around their prone forms in agitation following the devastating burst.

“Hey. Eda?” The planeswalker’s voice was faint with surprise, leaving her to weakly clear her throat in an effort to regain volume.

“Um. Yes, girly?” The Owl Lady sounded utterly flabbergasted.

“I, uh. Think you might’ve figured it out.”

“…Probably, yeah.”

Eda retrieved her steaming stave from where it had torn through the soil as they stood, tugging it with a grunt from its resting place before the pair moved to inspect the damage her wild spell had caused. The enchanted staff still held some charge, light cracks of frantic power rippling over its form – but the Owl Lady seemed to have reached an understanding with the feral forces of the wilderness after her breakthrough. The witch didn’t even flinch as electricity skittered over her knuckles, dispelling the creeping energy with a light tap of the staff’s butt into the blasted ground while student and mentor marveled at the evidence of their success.

The targets they had crafted were almost entirely obliterated by the blast, small scraps of cloth and wood littering the clearing in an arc that fanned from the epicenter of the destruction. The soil was scorched and blackened, any grass burned away from the intensity of the heated connection.

“Wow…” Luz broke the silence with a hushed whisper, eyes bright as she took in the changes to the clearing. “I’ve never been able to summon anything that big before.”

She turned to her stunned compatriot, the beginnings of a bright grin tugging at her mouth.

“Eda, that’s – calling up actual lightning bolts is one of the more powerful red spells I know of! There’s some crazy magic that can do a lot more but… from what I remember, some of the shamans I knew said that it’s one of the best ways to get the most bang for your buck.” The younger girl paused, brow furrowing in concern after a moment. “How do you feel? Are you – getting tired? Maybe kinda woozy?”

“Nah, Luz. If anything…” The Owl Lady looked up from the smoking target range, a glimmer of feral excitement in her expression. “I feel great right now. Like I could run a marathon!” She gazed down at her hands, astounded at the fresh well of energy filling her being. The woman seemed to swell with some greater comprehension, gazing around appreciatively at the woodlands and ridgelines with a newfound awareness.

Joyful determination made Eda’s spine straighten after several moments of inspection, a victorious grin overtaking her features.

“I want to do it again.”

They beat a rapid retreat from the firing range, bracing themselves against the approach of the spell from a safe distance at the center of camp. The second bolt of roaring lightning was no less impressive than the first, though the advanced warning of the attack kept the women from being knocked off their feet as thunder tore across the clearing once more. Luz gave a whoop of excitement, punching the air with reckless abandon as her student gave her own satisfied, cackling laugh. The younger girl raised a single open palm before her companion, prompting the witch to swiftly high-five her teacher with a forceful smack.

“I knew you had it in you, Eda!” Luz praised her preening student, bouncing on her heels as the bristling maelstrom overhead rumbled ominously. “There was no way you weren’t gonna get red magic – I’d bet you love blowing stuff up too much to do anything else.”

“Ha! You know it, girly.” The Owl Lady flexed her nimble fingers, raw power crackling within her fist as she beheld the fruit of her efforts. “Can’t let some uppity bunch of boulders get the better of ol’ Eda, after all.”

“I’d make a joke about teaching old dogs new tricks, but my mami always told me it’s not a good idea to poke fun at someone holding lightning in their hands.” The planeswalker couldn’t help but tease, bumping her elbow against the pale woman’s arm as they both gave a good-natured chuckle at the ribbing, the witch raising a brow in mock-offence.

“So!” Luz clapped her hands together, causing Eda to jerk to attention. “Now that you’ve started out as big as you could, we should start working on something a little smaller. Calling up storms to cast spells is great and all, but…” Her eyes flicked to the lingering clouds above, roiling with unreleased rainfall. “It’s not easy to aim at smaller things, especially if you aren’t trying to wreck a whole city block. And you can’t really do that indoors, anyway.”

“Fair enough.” The Owl Lady conceded, her toothy smirk fading into a warm, content smile as she looked to the girl. “Why don’t you run through a few of the ways I’ve seen you toss fire around, and I’ll follow along. Sound good?”

“Yup!” Luz cracked her knuckles in preparation, pulling the tides of willful magic to the forefront of her mind with but a thought. “Let’s get to it!”

The pair continued trading lessons and blows for the remainder of the day, working steadily towards ensuring the older woman could create and maintain her own sources of fire and electricity. The almost-festive atmosphere of the trip’s onset returned in full-force for the evening, jokes and excited considerations of how to apply Eda’s newfound access to crimson mana shared easily back and forth while the owl and burning phoenix lay comfortably to the side.

Luz was all too willing to prepare their final dinner of the trip, chatting amicably with the witch as Eda sipped glowing citrus liquid in a round vial retrieved from the tent. The older woman seemed much more at ease following her earlier success, idly palming a ball of swirling flames in her open hand as she exercised her newly forged connection to the elements. The spell was snuffed with a twist of her wrist as their meal was completed, leaving the Owl Lady free to spoon steaming soup to her mouth while the pair relaxed by the merry fire.

Their conversation bled well into the deep of the night, the expansive stretch of glorious stars covered by silently gathering storm heads. The mood remained undiminished, however, and the witch promised they would be back at the Owl House before any true inclement weather would strike.

The pair departed the Titan’s Knee shortly after breakfast, riding atop Owlbert’s staff with Odin winging alongside, a stretching field of darkening clouds at their backs.

The flight down the mountain was no less scenic on the return trip than it had been during their original hike upwards, the sprawling greens and browns of the territory flying by beneath them. Luz couldn’t help her budding excitement at the familiar sight, greedily drinking in the gorgeous expanse of nature in the grey morning light while they soared through the skies.

The thunderheads in the distance had only grown following Eda’s original generation of clouds above their camp, a fierce wind whipping in their wake that buffeted the magic users from time to time. Owlbert remained steady in his path, however, and the wheeling phoenix following from behind simply rode the forceful gusts with the ease of a natural-born predator, completely at home in its fierce environment.

Their trip back to the arcane Owl House was much quicker than the prior journey on foot, and it was less than an hour passed in the skies before the cliffside come came into sight as a faraway speck. A distant silhouette was spotted on their swooping approach, the figure looking skywards with a jolt as Odin let loose a bellowing caw that echoed across the yard, his wings flaring with jets of fire as he descended alongside his longtime companion.

Willow Park met them as they landed, waving the two down with a cheery grin while Owlbert skidded a stop. The Owl Lady dismounted her hovering stave, helping her houseguest off with one hand even as she stifled a yawn in the other. Luz swung their combined packs over her jacketed back, returning the plant witch’s greeting as they made for the front door, the unencumbered staff levitating slowly behind.

“So, how’d things go, ladies?” Willow questioned, her eyes glittering with anticipation behind her thick spectacles. “I can’t help but notice that you’re coming back right after that freak storm showed up – and with a new friend. Would that have anything to do with your crazy mountain magic?”

Eda gave her a lazy smirk brimming with smugness, calling forth a palmful of fire that she tossed back and forth between her hands.

“Yeah, I s’pose you could say that.” The older woman preened, her exhaustion giving way for victorious crowing. “Turns out that when you just get angry enough, you can brew up a whole buncha clouds and starting shooting lightning out of them.” Her satisfied grin grew even further at the look of shock on her apprentice’s face.

“It took us a bit to get going, but Eda seems to jive really well with red mana.” Luz explained to her friend, shifting the satchels she carried to a more comfortable position. Her phoenix ally was all too pleased to rest his bulk atop the bundle of bags. “We spent a bit getting her to tone it down so she doesn’t blow up the whole house by accident, but other than that – it went well! Pretty fun trip, all around.”

The Owl Lady gave a lengthy sigh of contentment, working the kinks from her tense arms and shoulders as she hummed in agreement.

“Yup. It was nice getting out of the Owl House for a while to go wreck some junk in the woods.” Eda pulled out of her stretch, tapping her chin consideringly as she squinted towards the blue-haired witch. “Which reminds me, we need to get you back on track for your normal, witchy magic lessons. Things got a bit screwy with Luz showing up, but we’ll have to pencil in some tutoring later this week. ‘Specially since you covered us for this trip.”

Willow gave a flippant shrug, directing her gaze towards the asymmetrical building they were approaching.

“I don’t mind helping out around here, you know. Besides, I just brought Gus over, and we played some board games with Hooty and King – when they weren’t acting up, anyway.” She gave a grumbled report, before brightening and switching gears to look at Luz. “Oh! That reminds me – we’ve got a surprise for you!”

“A surprise? What for?” The planeswalker let out a nervous chuckle, thoughts searching for some potential cause for the occasion.

“No, no, nothing like that. Just – you’ll see.” Willow gave her a sly grin. “I’m sure the boys have figured something out to demonstrate.”

Her interest piqued at the witch’s odd statement – what kind of present would require a ‘demonstration’ from their companions?

Hooty failed to greet the trio at the porch, seeing as he was wrapped around the corner of the living room and peeking in via the kitchen window. Luz pulled the door open carefully, making certain not to slam the house demon’s body into the stucco façade as she led the way inside. The cozy living room seemed untouched as far as she could recall, with the diminutive forms of Gus Porter and the King of Demons resting atop the overstuffed sofa, Hooty leaning over their shoulders as they watched what looked to be a movie of some description on a small crystal ball.

The male witch was the first to notice her appearance, mimicking Willow’s prior greeting with an energetic wave of his own, catching his companion’s attentions.

“Hey Luz! How’d the trip up the Knee go? Run into any slitherbeasts or other nasty critters?” The mage gave a laugh at his barrage of questions, waving the younger boy down as she slid her baggage off her back and to the floor, stripping the insulating winter coat on the way. Odin fluttered from his backpack perch to rest on the rafters of the Owl House, giving a low croon of curiosity as the other members’ eyes briefly tracked him.

“Hi there, Gus. Camping went well; we got Eda hooked up to the red mana out there, so now she can toss fireballs and the like around. Also, we did actually see a slitherbeast in the woods – but it didn’t bother us.” The girl explained, hanging her shed winter layers from a coat hook by the door. “Hiya King, Hooty. Glad to see everything’s still intact around here.”

“That sounds like a pretty intense trip! You guys must be exhausted.” King piped up in a pleasant pitch. “Maybe you should sit down for a bit, take a load off? I bet you’re both ready for a nap.”

Luz froze by the entryway, slowly straightening from her bend as she considered the overtly cheerful tone of the Owl Lady’s first roommate. Her eyes darted to the house demon and witch at his side as she turned back around, taking in their continued silence and small, polite smiles as she gave her own careful grin in return.

“Sounds like a plan to me…” She began, looking around the cluttered living room for any signs of trickery. Something about the space tickled her sense of danger – what was different about the room? “Why don’t you guys scoot over, lemme sit on the couch with you? I’m feeling up for watching a movie if you are.”

The trio lackadaisically spread across the aging upholstery, giving exaggerated grunts and sighs as they engulfed any remaining space on the cushions.

“Aah, sorry about that, Luz -” Hooty spoke, his voice rising up and down in a teasing manner. “Looks like you’ll just have to take one of the recliners.”

Wait a moment – ‘one of the recliners?’ The planeswalker stepped forward, maintaining her forced smile as she laid a hand on the back of the worn chair. Eda only had a single seat like this – any other chairs had to be salvaged from the kitchen.

She gave the padded headrest a slight squeeze, feeling the normal texture of roughspun cloth – with an abnormal amount of give beneath her fingers. Aha! So they’d pulled some nonsense with the furniture, and wanted to trap her with it as a –

“Outta the way, kiddos. Mama’s about ready to knock out now that she’s not hooked up to the mountain for juice.”

The Owl Lady strode forward before Luz could utter a single warning, the mage jerking back with wide eyes as the witch made to collapse into the trapped chair…

“Oof.”

Only for Eda to spill out in a sprawl, the form of the jinxed seating popping out of existence with a blue flash as the older woman landed on her floor.

For a moment, all was still, the only sound Willow’s aborted snort of amusem*nt as she covered her mouth with both hands. The pair of demons and their young accomplice looked ready to flee in terror – until the Owl Lady let out a single bark of a laugh, sitting up from her prone position.

“Alright, you little brats.” She started mirthfully, directing a sharp grin to her horrified guests. “I can appreciate you having the guts to pull a fast one on me like that. Fair’s fair.” She held one hand out to Gus, who was bouncing back and forth on his heels as he considered sprinting from the room. “Now help an old lady up, woudja?”

The young witch hauled her to a standing position, any sense of caution erased by his previous fright and leaving his host free to wrap both hands around his offered limb.

“Thanks, kiddo!” Eda smiled brightly, making Gus hunch his shoulders in disquiet. “Oh, did I mention that Luz here taught me how to shoot lightning?”

He only had a second for his eyes to shoot wide open before stiffening with a shriek, throwing himself across the room while he waved his stinging palm about. The pale woman let out a cackling snort as the electricity racing across her fingers dissipated with a snap, before turning an expectant grin to the petrified demons on her wilting sofa.

“Anybody else wanna try me right now?”

Hooty fled the room with a yelp, proclaiming something about house abuse being unethical while he abandoned King to dive under the couch cushions, screaming in fear. The Owl Lady gave a full-bellied laugh at the sight, swiping a tear of joy from her eye as she crossed the room to ascend the stairs, patting Luz’s shoulder on the way by.

“I wasn’t joking about being beat. Feel free to stick around tonight, kids, I can already see the sleeping bags you hauled outta the closet.” She moved past the corner of the staircase, fighting back another yawn – only to turn her head around and call back to the living room. “Wake me up if you get any lunch going! Or dinner – I might just fall into a coma for a bit, guess we’ll find out.”

“You’re gonna wreck your sleeping schedule!” The planeswalker called after the woman, receiving no obvious response to her comment.

Luz saw her friend’s eyes track the older witch as she retreated upstairs, brow furrowing in concern, so the mage decided upon lightly elbowing Willow in the side and gesturing to the Owl Lady’s departing form.

“We spent the better part of a week shooting off spells nonstop, circles or otherwise. Plus, there was a lot of walking around and hauling firewood – she’s probably just tuckered out. You know?”

“I suppose so.” The plant witch folded her arms, a contrite expression overtaking her features. “Just so long as she doesn’t get too crazy with the magic. Eda needs to learn how to take better care of herself.”

Luz gave a vague nod of agreement, Willow’s statement nagging her for a moment afterwards as she considered the context of the situation. The Owl Lady had seemed mostly unbothered by their spellcasting – so why was the other girl so concerned about her overextending her magical usage?

The consideration was shelved for the moment as Gus wandered back into view, still shaking his numbed limb in an effort to breathe some sensation back into his palm. Wincing in discomfort, the boy instead directed a shaky smile his friends, gesturing at where his illusion once sat.

“S-So, Luz, did you notice anything odd about my spell?”

She quirked an eyebrow at the question, humming thoughtfully.

“Not right off the bat, no. But…” Her eyes narrowed as she gazed towards the resting spot of the illusory chair, her mind turning over the situation as she recalled a particular detail. “I didn’t see any spell circles.” She started slowly. “Do you need to keep one going for a spell, if it doesn’t resolve right after you cast it?”

“Mhm!” Gus nodded enthusiastically, his grin growing more genuine.

The realization struck her only a moment later.

“Wait – did you do that with mana?”

The young witch threw his arms wide, fluttering his hands in excitement.

“Tada! I figured out some blue magic while you guys were gone!” He gushed, lowering his arms once more – only to gesture towards the couch with a twist of his wrist, causing a pair of identical pillows to shimmer into existence on the seating. “Willow and I were practicing all week, while you ladies were out – I wanted to surprise you when you got back, y’know? And I was starting to think I’d never get it, too.”

“What changed?” The planeswalker asked breathily, moving to inspect the false cushions. Her hands gently skimmed their surfaces, pressing down on the false padding and testing their consistency as her companion beamed happily at the sight.

“That storm blowing in off the sea, yesterday.” Gus elaborated, giving the shocked mage a nod at her incredulous look. “I was getting in tune with the island and the water, but it just – wasn’t sticking. It felt too… calm. Flat. But then the winds started up!” He gestured grandly in the air. “The waves got all choppy, and the trees were blowing, it just – something clicked. Everything came alive, and when I felt that in my magic, I finally figured out how to make my illusions come to life.” The boy paused. “Am I making any sense?”

“Yup!” Luz bobbed her head in confirmation, stepping away from the spellwrought pillows. “I didn’t really consider that some of you guys might have an easier time working with something a bit more – intense, than meditation. Still, great job, Gus! I’m proud of your initiative.” Her brow wrinkled in consideration. “Maybe that’s why it keeps taking Eda a few days to get the basics down for the magic I show her…”

King peeked out from behind his chosen cover, slowly lowering the clutched pillow as he took in the lack of his roommate nearby.

“Eda’s pretty smart when it comes to figuring out new magic.” The demon commented, hopping down from the furniture to wander towards the kitchen cabinets. “I’ve seen her practicing new spells before around the house – it seems like she has a problem getting the big ones down quickly, but the little stuff?” King teetered one paw back and forth absentmindedly as he rooted about for a snack. “It kinda comes and goes. Not really sure why.”

Luz gaze a quick glance at Willow, taking in the carefully blank expression she kept even as the mage stepped past the black-furred demon to retrieve a drink from the refrigerator. She made certain to keep her suspicions off of her face, instead opting to approach the subject when Eda was actually present – and conscious.

“Anyone want anything?” She called behind her, elbow-deep in the icebox as she fished out a carton of unidentified juice. “It’ll be a bit before we hit lunch, but -”

A raucous screech cut off her words – shortly followed by Luz slamming into the fridge interior with a whoosh of breath, the settling weight of her swooping phoenix companion nestled comfortably on her bowed shoulders.

“Gah! Odin, be careful!” The mage scolded her chittering companion, rolling her eyes at the display even as she retrieved a few slices of sandwich meat for the ravenous bird of prey. The firebird chirped in excitement, winging to the cleared countertop and hopping back and forth excitedly as Luz tossed a sliver of flesh into his open beak. It was swallowed in a single gulp, prompting the young girl to swat at her companion, muttering a warning about choking on his meals.

The eyes of the witches tracked their interaction with interest, gazing at the gentle waft of flames rising from the eagle’s spine and tail feathers as he munched on the presented offerings.

“You’re all about being pals with these ‘elementals,’ huh, Luz?” Gus spoke up, curiosity burning in his expression even as he took a step towards the occupied phoenix, one hand hovering hesitantly near the avian predator’s plumage. “How do you touch him without getting hurt – is the fire just an illusion, or something?”

Luz turned about, uncapping her drink of juice as she gave her friend a comforting smile, gently guiding the boy’s fingers to rest lightly against the firebird’s extended neck.

“Skarrgan firebirds are always in control of their flames.” She explained quietly, stroking the elemental’s side, opposite of Gus’ hand. “They’re fierce predators, but really smart – if you can make nice with one, you’ll have a pal for life.”

Odin cooed in agreement, the last section of meat sliding down his gullet as he nuzzled against the mage’s shoulder, before turning a keen eye to the boy running fingertips through his burning flank. The bird’s small skull drifted slowly closer, nudging itself under the offered hand and cawing lightly in delight as Gus shifted to scratch him at the base of his neck. The young witch couldn’t help the pleased chuckle that slipped from his chest.

“Huh – he’s a lot more friendly than I expected. Cute, too.”

Luz gave him a pat on the shoulder as she passed the engrossed pair, making her way back to the couch where Willow and King had retired, the blue-haired witch finally relaxing from her earlier tension and idly tapping away at a remote control as the two cycled mindlessly through whatever shows were on offer. She spotted the planeswalker’s approach, scooting over to claim the middle cushion and patting the open seat with a smile, which her friend gratefully received.

“So… I didn’t know the Boiling Isles had anything like television. And with crystal balls, too.” Luz examined the flickering image, a bout of wistfulness welling up at the familiar sight of someone channel hopping out of desperation. “Anything good on at this time of day?”

King sat up from his casual slump, munching away at an unmarked bag of crispy bits as he leaned in, growing more animated.

“There’s all sorts of stuff on offer. Romance shows, lots of documentaries – the best ones are about the glorious days of battles past!” The demon leapt to his paws, pointing dramatically skyward. “Tales of bloodshed, combat and loss, with conquering kings and queens. The best kind, of course!”

Willow forced the diminutive demon back into his seat with a snort, pressing one hand down on his exposed skullcap, patting his head comfortingly even as King gave an indignant yelp.

“Crystal-Vision has plenty more than just that. For example…” The plant witch clicked the small plastic remote a few times, swapping the display to a dramatically panning view of the Isles proper. “They’ve got a load of movies with a bunch of different genres, to cater to all the kinds of locals around here.” She turned a questioning look to her companion on the couch. “Anything you think you might be interested in, Luz?”

The planeswalker hummed contemplatively, examining the swirling picture filling the glass sphere on the table.

“Why not some nature documentaries, like King mentioned? I’d love to learn a bit more about the wildlife of the Isles – and the ones back home were always pretty fun to watch.”

After some debate between the couch’s residents – including Gus, who had returned to the main room with the flaming phoenix perched upon his shoulder – the group decided upon a documentary on carnivorous plant life native to the Boiling Isles, as King refused to watch anything without a bare minimum of potential death and destruction being involved.

They passed the hours relaxing within the Owl House, with Luz quietly grateful for the opportunity to rest after such a physically strenuous week. Owlbert and Hooty reappeared partially through the viewing, with the house demon offering his own bout of running commentary alongside the other residents as they watched horrific examples of flesh-eating blooms attack the hapless researchers on display.

Luz had never realized that a world without jungles could be home to such vicious flora, barring a few outstanding examples.

Eda came tromping downstairs sleepily at the call for lunch, and then dinner, bleary-eyed and mildly incoherent as she accepted the offerings placed before her without complaint. The planeswalker was surprised by how lethargic her host had become – apparently the influx of red mana really was helping to keep the Owl Lady standing during their practice. If that was the case, then they might need to tone down their future training exercises so that the witch wasn’t left completely out of commission after every event.

The period before and after dinner was spent practicing their respective magics, with Luz happy to offer feedback for Willow and Gus as they exercised their newfound abilities on a contained scale within the home. The bespectacled plant witch had brought some samples of various flowers and fruits from her personal garden, focusing bolstering green mana into their fragile sprouts and leaving her companions to inspect the results, oohing and awing over the colorful blooms or sneaking tastes of the ripe products on offer. Simultaneously, their resident illusionist worked on mastering the image of falsified life, casting mirages resembling the swaying stems that Willow grew and breathing animation into the spellwork.

In the meanwhile, Luz put her mind towards her prior efforts in hydromancy, lashing small streams of water to her will as she worked on wringing the heat from the liquid and crafting lengths of ice she could manage. It was slow going – any interruption to her focus had the water splashing out onto the carpet or table, and the amorphous material resisted her attempts to cast it into a defined shape with all of the strength of the wider seas. By the time they had dragged sleeping arrangements out for the evening, however, the mage found that she could simultaneously create and maintain several small, sharpened icicles that would stay cool against her touch.

It was a start.

Only as the trio of teenagers were wrapping themselves in sleeping bags late that night – hygiene concerns squared away, giggling and whispering in the dark while shooting harmless spells at one another – did it occur to Luz that this was the first sleepover she’d ever had the opportunity to experience. The thought made her pause, her braid halfway undone as a confused spike of melancholy and relief reached her heart. Something so simple had always struck her as completely unfeasible, with her poor reputation in her schools and the lack of any true childhood friends for many years.

And yet, it was smothered by the warm sensation that shot through her as she watched her two companions having a whispered war on the other end of the circle of furniture, muffled chuckles and small yelps reaching her as tiny flares of spark shot back and forth. King was curled up on the couch above their position, valiantly fighting the call for rest as his fellow guests squabbled. The phoenix and miniature wooden owl were already roosting in the rafters above, the natural flames of her avian friend dimmed to a subtle glow.

Luz smiled as she laid back down, watching her companions settle in for the night, her long brown locks freed from their bind.

It was no time at all before she drifted off into a peaceful slumber, the distant crackle of thunder tearing through clouds failing to disturb the Owl House and its occupants.

Chapter 12

Chapter Text

Bone-deep exhaustion was something that Luz Noceda had spent almost half a decade becoming well-acquainted with as she plumbed the depths of the multiverse in her quest to return home. Long hours hiking across plains and forests, plundering ancient ruins with companions, engaging in basic but taxing chores all taught her the value of catching rest wherever it was offered and preparing for the inevitable days of work to come. Thus, it was no strange occurrence for her to rise quite early from the disheveled sleeping roll on the floor of the Owl House, stretching the bloodless knots form her muscles as she beheld the grainy grey light of midmorning filtering in through the kitchen window, the lingering strain of a satisfying trip testing her flexibility.

And yet, even having overslept by her own standards – she was still the first awake for the day. Gus and Willow were still ensconced within their comfortable sleeping bags, the pair lightly sucking in wet breaths with open mouths as they curled against the early chill. Not even the King of Demons or the two avian familiars were stirring, each of them in a deep slumber – and the mage didn’t even bother counting the Owl Lady for attendance. With how tired she was the prior day, it would be a wonder if she were up before noon.

A tip-toed trip upstairs allowed Luz to quietly comb and braid her curtain of dark hair, before throwing on one of the few comfortable and casual outfits she owned. The soft cotton trousers and short-sleeved blouse rested lightly about her as she padded back down the stairs, reclaimed staff in hand.

It felt like coming home, holding her beloved gift once more as she stealthily picked her way across the room, briefly dropping it to rest against the counter while she moved to search for a fulfilling breakfast meal. She had been reluctant to leave it behind at the homestead – especially on a lengthy trip up a mountain, certain to be fraught with rocky terrain – but the planeswalker hadn’t wanted to risk damaging it with their vigorous casting of fire magics on the secluded peaks. Considering the near miss with destroying Eda’s own staff after the first blast of lightning, she felt somewhat vindicated in the decision.

Upon investigating the various cabinets set into the walls of the kitchenette, Luz failed to turn up any significant finds regarding her morning meal selection. A frown crawled over her lips as she rooted through the cupboards in consternation. She knew that there had been a grocery run in the works before their rapid departure, but this was somewhat ridiculous. There really wasn’t much of anything left behind after their luncheon and supper the day before.

She shifted to the refrigerator instead, pulling open the stained door to inspect whatever scraps were on offer in the icebox. The prospects were much less grim regarding chilled foodstuffs – and ooh, was that leftover bacon? Some foreign eggs in a sagging carton, a little bit of juice and various vegetables, a few cuts of meat destined for a future dinner… and a misshapen block of cheese, somewhat off-putting in its outright normalcy against the other exotic selections.

Her brows shot up in anticipation as she considered a plan for providing incentive to her housemates in waking up.

Luz didn’t consider herself any sort of master when it came to preparing food, but her approach to the subject was straightforward: she would learn how to make edible creations, or be left starving in whatever stretch of wilderness she was apt to explore.

Locating some scratched-up cast iron pans and the appropriate seasonings was much easier than finding suitable entrees in the small kitchen. It wasn’t long before she had wrangled the stovetop burners into a gentle blaze, the greased surfaces of her implements sizzling enticingly as the mage went about preparing breakfast for the household. She had long since passed any remaining reservations about experimenting with items found in the refrigerator – camping rations had rid her system of any squeamishness years ago, and most edible things on the Boiling Isles seemed fairly analogous to their Earthly counterparts.

It was as she was folding her first completed omelet, carefully retaining the steaming mushrooms and seasoned cheese within the scrambled egg, that the rumble of distant thunder brought her eyes up from her task. She gazed searchingly out the grimy window at the swirling mass of dark clouds above, their depths twisting and throbbing with inbound rainfall as faint flashes of electricity raced across their curves. It didn’t appear that the storm had begun in full, nor had it reached the bounds of the Owl House, but the roar of far-off storm heads was enough to make the floor vibrate gently with their passage.

Maybe she’d toss on her cloak and go bask in the fresh precipitation once it began falling. The skies had been clear for the weeks Luz had spent on the Isles – it was almost a month already whiled away on this plane, she could barely believe it – and she rarely passed up the opportunity to enjoy a refreshing storm. Thunder had never held any true discomfort for her, and time spent in the wilds of tempestuous worlds had taught her to fear much more tangible concerns with inclement weather. Thunderstorms were almost relaxing in their intensity, a sign of the cycle of renewal that would flood the world with sound and blessed waters for all to experience.

The sound of rustling cloth and incoherent mumbling brought her attention around to the occupied living room, bearing witness to two bleary witches attempting to extract themselves from very comfortable bedding without using their hands. She had to muffle a giggle with the heel of her palm at the sight of Gus giving a despondent groan, rolling over the legs of an unmotivated Willow as the pair clearly considered returning to sleep, in spite of the peal of thunder that had awoken them.

“Hey guys!” The young mage gently singsonged from the kitchen, drawing their heads around to her position at the counter. “You’d better get up soon, before the rest of the house realizes I’m making breakfast. Mealtimes around here can turn into a real brawl if anybody wants to get their food first.”

Her pronouncement was met with more exaggerated moans of midmorning despair, but after a few moments of struggling with the allure of their sleeping bags, her friends joined her at the kitchen island. Both of the witches spent the next round of breakfast preparations rubbing the sleep from their eyes, fighting back yawns even as Luz hummed a formless, energetic tune, frying another fragrant meal for her companions.

The appearance of plates laden with crisp bacon and stuffed omelets was enough to rouse Luz’s friends from their stupor, both Gus and Willow tucking in with growing relish as the planeswalker placed some scuffed silverware and sloshing glasses of water alongside the breakfast spread. She prepared her own serving as the two tore through the meal, claiming a stool as her own while she ate wordlessly, a slight grin on her face as the other guests enjoyed her morning offerings.

“Uh.” Gus muttered around a mouthful of egg and cheese, his eyes locked onto the plate before him. “I haven’t had omelets like this in – forever. My dad’s more of a cereal kind of guy when it comes to morning stuff.” He swallowed the chewed portion, turning his slightly unfocused gaze towards Willow at his side. “Remember that time your parents had that big breakfast get-together, right after Grom that one year?” The young witch’s eyes glazed over further in recollection. “Man. That was great.”

“Ahem – if that’s the Grom I’m thinking of, it was probably more of an effort to cheer me up than anything.” Willow stated wryly, an unimpressed look on her face to match her hoarse voice. “But yeah. It was still pretty fun.”

Gus lethargically slapped a palm to his forehead, giving a frustrated grunt at the impact.

“Right. My bad, sorry. No filter just after I wake up.”

The plant witch waved off his concerns with a hand, returning to her meal as Luz watched their interaction with polite interest. The original thread of conversation tapered out, cut at the bud by the other girl’s blunt reminder, and so the mage decided on some other strain of small talk to occupy the early morning silence at the table.

“Speaking of your guys’ parents, are they expecting you back sometime soon?” She questioned, one eye on the darkening skyline. “Because it looks like those clouds might open up any minute now, and I don’t know how keen Eda would be on flying people into town during a lightning storm.”

Her companions turned to follow her line of sight, just as a faraway clap of thunder punctuated the statement with a rumble that shook the foundations. The pair looked offput by the reminder, sharing a quick look of consideration.

“Last I checked, they were fine with us staying out. We let them know we’d be over here for a few days.” Willow stated, her eyes sliding towards the staircase leading upwards. “But from what I saw last night, there’s not a whole lot left for food later. And Eda needs to do some – shopping for the house, besides.” She turned back towards Luz, brows ascending in consideration. “D’you think we should get her up, see what she wants to do? It’s her staff, anyway.”

The mage loosed an affirmative grunt, dismounting her stool and moving into the living room as her friends polished off the remainder of their meals. She gave the exposed skull of King a few soft pats on the way by, whispering in his groggy ear about how she’d prepare some food for him if he got up soon, before taking the stairs two at a time into the upper level of the Owl House.

She couldn’t admit to being wholly familiar with the second floor of the building – much of her time had been spent exploring the outdoors as opposed to nosing through her host’s house. Yet, as she made for Eda’s bedroom door, the mage couldn’t shake the feeling that some additional enchantment subtly infused the walls of the structure. Lengthy, silent hallways and unmarked doors traveled away from her for distances that shouldn’t be possible within the confines of the exterior walls, while the reliance on flickering candlelight did little to dispel the aura of unknowability.

At least Luz knew where the important chambers were, such as the bathroom and her own sleeping quarters. No need to get lost around here.

Several firm, but polite, knocks that she delivered to the Owl Lady’s bedroom door went unanswered for multiple minutes, leaving her to stand in awkward silence as she kept an ear open for any audible cues that Eda was conscious. After a second round of tapping and quiet calls of the woman’s name was met with similar results, Luz found her patience waning enough that she simply pushed the door open with a shove, taking in the space as it swung freely on creaking hinges.

It seemed that Eda’s eccentricities had spilled further into the house than she had originally realized – just as with the living room, arcane trinkets and miscellaneous potion ingredients littered the floor and furniture, all the way up to the open window balcony that overlooked the front yard. Yet the most immediately shocking item of interest was the older witch’s bedding arrangements – namely, the large circular nest taking up the space beneath the stonework of the windowsill.

The mage couldn’t help the reflexive face she made at the sight, her bemusem*nt only growing as she stepped further into the room. She knew that her host was thoroughly invested in sticking to her motifs, but this was bordering on ridiculous.

Then again, it did look awfully comfy…

Shaking her head to clear her mind of distractions, Luz tiptoed to the edge of the odd fixture, Eda’s gentle snores filling the air as she caught sight of her voluminous mop of hair over the lip of the nest. The pale witch was curled into a loose ball, her raggedy pajamas clashing with the dull tones of her chosen bedding even in the dim lighting. She hesitated only a moment longer before kneeling beside the woman, giving her a small shake with an outstretched hand.

“Eda? Hey. All powerful Owl Lady.” The slumbering witch gave a disgruntled moan, muttering incomprehensibly under her breath as she shifted at the disturbance. “Eda. Edaaa. I made everybody breakfast, you’re missing out. And we need to talk to you about getting people home before the sky opens up on us.”

She jerked back as the pale woman abruptly sat up, nearly knocking their heads together as she finally opened her eyes with a tremendous yawn, arms going up to work the numbness from her limbs.

“Argh. W-What was that, kid? Food and… a storm or something?” The Owl Lady’s half-lidded gaze shot open, concern dumping some adrenaline into her lethargic system. “Ah, crap. I forgot that I’d probably need to shield the house. Is it actually raining on us, yet?” She asked, turning to gaze out the window.

“Nope, not yet. But there’s been some thunder on and off this morning.” Luz dutifully reported, rocking back on her heels as she made to stand. “Lemme get a plate going for you and King before we do anything else, assuming he’s up already.”

She assisted the Owl Lady in hoisting herself from the comfort of her bed with a clasped hand, leaving the exhausted witch to dress herself as she made her way back towards the kitchen for the second round of meal preparation.

By the time Eda descended the stairs into the cavernous central room, there was a plate of steaming eggs and cheese awaiting her at the table, alongside an exuberant King of Demons who was in the midst of demolishing his own plate. The young witches and their planeswalker companion were making idle chatter at the counter, washing off their used dishes and clearing the perpetual clutter that filled the household in every room as they awaited the older woman’s presence.

The pale witch spent little time leaving her meal to cool, scarfing down the omelet and fried meats with a muffled sound of surprised delight, easily putting away the cooked food as she hurried to make conversation with her guests.

“Okay, so…” She started, swallowing the final mouthful of her eggs. “Which of you know how to do a decent shielding spell again? Hooty’s gonna need some cover before the rains get here, and I could use some help, unless you wanna see how a house made of demon bits can get torched.”

Both Gus and Willow volunteered their services in assistance, leaving Luz the odd woman out as her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Does the Boiling Isles only get acid rain, or something?” She asked incredulously, following the trio of witches out the front door and giving the sleepy house demon a muted greeting as they passed. “Or is Hooty just, like, allergic to water?”

Eda gave a swirling wave of her hands, lifting the quartet up the shingled rooftop with a tug of telekinetic force as she scaled the sloping surface of the house. Her fingers spun about in a tight circle, causing an expanding glob of transparent orange spellcraft to leap from the ring and spread across the exposed roofing.

“Weather around here isn’t very kind to most people.” The witch explained, her eyes tracking the similar efforts of the other two magic users as a coating of citrus shielding bubbled above and through the overlapping exterior tiles of the Owl House. “Dunno how it is for folks in other worlds, but the Boiling Sea gives us boiling rain – and not even the walls and roof are good enough to hide a house demon from getting burned up.” She slapped the rough stucco with a fond pat, before turning back to the perplexed planeswalker.

“That’s not even including getting hit by lightning, which is just kind of a problem on its own. Y’know?”

Luz gave a slow nod, feeling a well of despair surface in her gut as any hopes of enjoying a pleasant downfall of precipitation were dashed by the older woman’s statement.

“But wait – if the storms around here are heated up by the ocean, then how do you still get snowfall up on the Titan’s Knee?” She asked, her confusion plain on her expression.

The Owl Lady opened her mouth to respond, before closing it a moment later, giving her own shrug of befuddlement.

“That’s a good question. Sure beats me, though. I’m no weather witch – maybe Gus’ pops would know somebody who could explain it to ya, down at their news station.”

Luz threw her hands up in defeat, giving a disbelieving shake of her head even as her friends finalized the glowing enclosure wrapped around the perimeter of the structure. The combined spellwork solidified into a brilliant protective coating, hovering above their heads by several feet and extending out slightly into the yard itself as a property-wide shell of rippling energy. She was still examining it even as Eda gently deposited everyone back on level ground her magic, just as another clap of thunder ran through the clearing – its intensity growing since the previous blasts.

Luz led the way back into the Owl House, patting the woodwork encasing Hooty fondly as she held the door open for the trio of witches filing in behind her. She couldn’t help noting with some concern the shortness of breath that was leaving Eda to give audible gasps, a clawed hand pressed to her flank as the witch wandered back into the living room alongside her guests.

“Are you okay?” The mage questioned her as the group moved to sit around the battered coffee table, hovering anxiously about the Owl Lady as she passed the group to enter the kitchenette. “I’ve never seen a spell take this much out of you in one go, before.”

The pale woman gave an unconvincing laugh, waving her concerned pacing off as Eda bent low, pulling open a cabinet to inspect its contents with a critical eye.

“Good as ever, kid. Just tuckered out from all the magic slinging these last few days. I’ll take it easy after this storm blows over, then everything’ll be right as rain.” The witch gave an exaggerated wink at the pun, before turning back to her focused search.

Luz nodded silently, a current of concern still lodged in her chest as she rejoined her companions in the living room proper after a moment’s hesitation. They were seated about the chamber in slumped poses, King having joined their small gathering after finishing his meal, sleepily perusing the available programs on their small crystal ball or tapping away at the interfaces of their floating scrolls.

Odin and Owlbert had finally awoken after all of the morning commotion, leaving them to settle comfortably about the room like a pair of exotic foreign pets as they bundled up comfortably against the damp chill filling the air. The phoenix was more than happy to reposition himself into Luz’s lap as she took a seat, his crackling warmth warding her against any climatic discomfort.

“Thanks for making us breakfast, Luz.” Gus piped up as he dismissed his scroll with a flick of his hand. “That was really tasty. I’m kinda shocked you’re so good with the ingredients on the Isles, though. Do other planes have a lot of the same foodstuffs we do?”

“Mhm.” She gave an affirmative hum, running her curved fingers through the burning eagle’s feathery back absentmindedly. “It helps that I’ve been all over the place, too. You gotta learn how to make your own food when you’re so mobile all the time – plus, a lot of that was spent outside and away from an actual kitchen.”

“D’you think you could make some more stuff in the future?” King asked from the couch as he clicked mindlessly through a bevy of Crystal-Vision channels. “Eda’s a pretty good cook when we aren’t just doing takeout, but pasta dishes get kinda same-y after a while.”

“Sure! I love doing meals with friends.” She clapped her hands together excitedly, giving a pointed bounce of her eyebrows in their direction. “But you gotta promise to help out if you want me to make anything really complicated. The best supper is one that the whole team makes together.”

“I’ve got plenty of herbs and vegetables growing in my garden, if you guys ever need some.” Willow offered, directing a look towards the Owl Lady rooting through the other room. “I already bring some over for Eda every so often, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind sharing to let you experiment with dinner.”

“Ooh! And my dad’s got a big, old family recipe book back at the house.” Gus gave an energetic wave, drawing their attention to him once more. “If you ever want to take a crack at cooking up some local witch cuisine, I bet he wouldn’t mind!”

The Owl Lady returned from the kitchen before Luz could offer a response, taking in the room with the remnants of a frustrated expression as she gave a small, strained grin at the excitable boy.

“What’s all this I’m hearing? Planning to usurp me in my own kitchen, huh?” The witch gave a good-natured chuckle, quickly shifting gears once more as she leaned against the headrest of the recliner, looking towards Willow intently.

“Hey, greenie – did you spot any of my elixir lying around down here while we were gone this week?” She questioned, directing a thumb towards the seated planeswalker. “Can’t seem to find it in the cabinets right now…”

The blue-haired girl straightened in alarm, giving a quick flick of her eyes towards the other occupants of the Owl House as she responded with a note of caution.

“No, it looks like you blew through most of your stock. Did you bring any back with you after your trip to the Knee?”

Luz squinted at the young witch, unease churning in her gut at the strange expression on her face, noting the beads of sweat gathering at Willow’s scalp.

Eda seemed likewise disturbed, a flash of dread filling her face before smoothing back out into bland confidence.

“Lemme go check my pack. Probably just snagged the rest of my current batch and forgot to put it back once we got home.”

The older woman stomped up the stairs towards her distant bedroom, failing to hide the burst of urgency in her steps as she left her guests behind in the foyer. A peek at King and Gus’ expressions confirmed that Luz was not the sole person left feeling concerned – only the plant witch seemed to have any idea what was disturbing their host about her missing quantity of ‘elixir.’

“Is everything alright, Willow?” Luz asked slowly, keeping her tone level and politely curious. “What kind of potion is Eda looking for? We might be able to help find it.”

The other girl seemed to finally realize that the eyes of every other guest were lingering on her in worry, making her spine straighten under the scrutiny as she clearly weighed whether or not it would be wise to inform them. After a few moments of tense silence, she sagged with a sigh, averting her eyes to the floor.

“Listen, Eda asked me not to tell anybody just yet. But…” Her eyes flashed behind her thick glasses, darting about the room. “She’s got a chronic medical condition that she takes – medication for. It’s not really a huge deal, but she’s embarrassed about it. I just don’t want anyone to worry.” She gave a falsely cheerful laugh, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’m sure she’ll find another dose, and everything’ll be fine -”

“Oh hellfire.” The curse cut off Willow’s desperate statement, bringing four sets of eyes around to the harried figure standing atop the spiraling staircase. “Willow – we’ve got a problem. I’m all out of elixir.”

“…Or maybe not.” The bespectacled witch squeaked, her face paling at Eda’s words. "Didn't you grab any at the market!? You didn't say anything, so I figured you had some stocked up!"

"It slipped my mind, alright?" The pale woman snapped, stomping into the room to dig furiously through the kitchen cabinets in a last-ditch effort to locate her missing medicine. "I got a little preoccupied when my bratty sister showed up to make a scene, the other day. And I packed extra for the trip, I just... didn't think it would take me so long to figure things out, is all!"

"Eda, you can't just makeassumptions like that -"

"Yes,mother, I am well aware that I was being stubborn and now it's everyone else's problem!" Her bare arms swung up in agitation, chasing her panicked words into the air. "Not much to do about it, is there, except to..."

Another peal of thunder ripped through the air of the Owl House, making everyone jump in fright at the tremendous blast that rattled the windows in their frames. The sound seemed to rouse the Owl Lady from her aggravated ranting, leaving her to race across the foyer and scoop Owlbert up with a strangled hoot in passing.

“sh*t. We don’t have a lot of time left. I can feel it in my bones.” The witch was unceremonious in her hurry, summoning her staff from the entryway of the house to screw her startled palisman back into place with one hand, looking despairingly towards the crowd occupying her furniture.

“Owlbert’s not gonna be able to seat more than two people, and… Willow’s the only one that knows what my potions look like.” The frantic woman bustled back into the living room, hoisting her young apprentice up by the wrist as she gazed around, arriving on a decision – and grabbed Gus by the arm, dragging him to his feet.

“You two need to get down into town, try and beat the storm. If you’re fast enough you can snag some elixir and get back here before the sky opens up.” She all but threw the pair towards the front door in spite of Willow’s stony silence and Gus’ weak protests, giving Luz and King a resigned look as she ejected the other two from the property. “If you can’t get there and back before it starts raining, then – I don’t know. Just don’t let that happen.”

“Gus, c’mon. I’ll explain on the way. Eda?” The older witch turned back towards the grim plant witch, hesitance written clear. “You need to tell the others what’s going on. Don’t let them get hurt just because you don’t want to be honest with them.”

The witch flinched at the statement, spinning around with a murmured agreement as the two young witches took off into the sky on Owlbert’s sturdy form. Luz was struck by the poorly hidden fear in her student’s eyes – the older woman had seemed so unshakable with every other challenge before, but now her anxiety was all too clear for her guests.

After a few seconds of dread-filled silence, the Owl Lady sat heavily on the couch, a distant look in her eyes as she stared blindly at the wall. Luz didn’t hesitate – she gently plopped Odin down onto the adjacent cushion so as to slide close to the distraught woman, leaning into her side and slipping her hand around Eda’s open palm, making the witch refocus on her roommate.

“Eda – whatever the problem is, we’re here for you. You know that, right?” Luz squeezed their clasped hands tightly, giving the Owl Lady her undivided attention. “Just… tell us what’s going on so we can help. Please.”

King wordlessly shuffled closer as well, his eyes wide as they stared up at the reticent witch. A clawed hand ran through her thick brush of hair, while an explosive sigh blew from her mouth as she relented to their inquiries.

“When I was a kid, I… picked up a curse.” The words fell like lead from her lips, each syllable spoken like a pronouncement of doom. “Someone… wanted me out of the picture, I guess. It rips up my magic, messes with my body -” Eda tapped one clawed fingertip against the gem set into her breastbone for emphasis. “And if I don’t keep up on my elixirs, it gets – aggressive. I -” The witch choked on her words, her expression scrunching up in discomfort as her eyes slid shut with finality.

“I turn into a monster.” The whispered revelation slipped out like a judicial verdict. “The ‘Owl Beast’ – big, angry, and with my mind taking the backseat.” She gave a small, bitter laugh. “I didn’t get the nickname by choice, y’know. After a bunch of people saw me change out on the field at Hexside, the other kids – they started calling me ‘the Owl Lady.’ Like I was some nasty old hag, coming out of the woods to eat them or something.”

Her humor fell flat in the face of her grave admittance, and her guests were left speechless for several long, agonizing minutes afterwards.

The explanation was short. Perfunctory. A clear attempt at dismissing a longstanding pain.

Luz placed her free hand over their connected palms, squeezing Eda’s fingers wordlessly in quiet support as the witch seemed poised for some form of blow, or harsh rebuttal.

Maybe that was all she knew when it came to something like this. The distance of the Owl House from civilization suddenly felt that much more stifling to the young planeswalker, that much less of a choice by Eda.

“When I was still at home with my mami -” Luz began, startling the other two occupants from their thoughts. “I met a few of her patients that she worked with, at the hospital. Some of them were just there for emergencies, or to get medical advice. But not all of them.” The young girl shifted, gazing into the despondent eyes of the witch she sat beside. “Some of those people were really sick. Fatal conditions, or… chronic ones. Lifelong illnesses that they spent years fighting.”

She turned her gaze away, looking out the expansive foyer window towards the approaching storm heads on the horizon as she continued.

“You could tell that it was hard on them, and their families. Some people looked like the whole world was weighing down on their shoulders, even if the diagnosis looked good. They just – gave up. Couldn’t deal with the crappy hand they’d been dealt. Ya know?

“But there was one little old man in the ward my mom worked that I got to meet a few times, somebody’s amado abuelo with all the energy in the world. He had… some kind of rare cancer. I can’t remember which. But when the doctors told him, he just -” Her free hand fluttered vaguely in the air. “Accepted it. Let it go. Said that he’d lived a full life, and that… he’d rather just enjoy his time left. So he’d come and go, get updates and all that, but he refused to get treated. Wanted to spend his time with family, he said.”

Luz paused for long moment, the recollection bittersweet on the tip of his tongue.

“The times I saw him, he never slowed down. Didn’t let the world stop him. Just kept – going right along.” She turned to Eda the Owl Lady once more. “It made me realize just how strong people are, sometimes. That kind of burden hurts a person, but – it didn’t stop that loco old man from living his life to the fullest.”

She gave the witch a small, genuine smile tinged with melancholy.

“It reminds me of somebody I know – a witch who’s strong, and independent, and intelligent. Someone that I haven’t seen give up yet.”

Eda quickly turned away from the girl, giving a surreptitious sniffle as she wiped the back of her hand across her nose. Her voice came out slightly choked as the witch steadfastly stared across the room.

“Ah wow, girly. Don’t gotta get all sappy on me like that.” The older woman gave her a weak, watery smile to soften the impact of her words. “I’m not outta the game yet. It’s just – rough talking about this crap with other people.”

Another monstrous clap of thunder rumbled through the air, cutting off the response on the tip of Luz’s tongue as the afterimage of lightning flashed across the walls of the house. As if the herald of further poor news, a sharp slap echoed through the living room from the window as a fat droplet of steaming water smacked into the window, a deceptive start to the veritable wave of rainfall that swelled shortly in its wake.

The Owl Lady gave the sight a despairing look, pulling her hand free of the planeswalker’s grasp to palm her face in agitation.

“Well, there goes that last hope. There’s no way Gus and Willow have strong enough shields to get all the way back here if its downpouring. Damnit.” The witch’s spine stiffened as she jerked in her seat, a wide-eyed expression on her face as she stared at her cupped hands. “Looks like they’re not the only ones out of time.”

Luz followed her line of sight, letting out an involuntary gasp as she witnessed Eda’s open fingers pulse, her nails thickening incrementally as short nubs of what appeared to be feathers poked through the woman’s palms. The young mage could only watch in fascinated revulsion as the beginnings of the curse overwhelmed the Owl Lady’s iron control, sweeping down her wrists in a tide of fuzzy down.

Eda stood abruptly, hurrying over to the front door without delay.

“There’s nothing else for it, I guess. Hooty!” The exterior panel swung inwards on its hinges, revealing the curious face of the resident house demon. “My curse is flaring up while King and Luz are still stuck in here with me. I’m gonna go lock myself in my room, try to slow it down best I can. Don’t let me get them, you hear?”

“Hooty hoot, you c-can count on me to try!” The owl entity stuttered uncertainly, fear in his beady eyes as he beheld the slow crawl of transformative enchantment move over Eda’s limbs.

The Owl Lady turned on her heel, marching back to the ascending staircase as she shot a fearful, apologetic look towards her roommates. She almost seemed on the verge of some final heartfelt statement, but opted for a choked:

"You two should... probably lock yourselves in the basem*nt for tonight."

Before skittering away to escape their heavy stares as she bolted up the walkway two steps at a time. The planeswalker wanted to call out, offer one last reassurance – but her host was long gone. Luz and King were left in an uneasy quiet, Odin fluttering uncertainly about the rafters as he registered the tension in the room, all while Hooty snaked about the archway and came in through an opened window panel.

“How long until you think she’s finished… changing?” Her wobbling whisper broke the stillness, leaving the demons to turn in her direction.

“It depends on a bunch of stuff, like the strength of the curse and the size of her final form.” King muttered nervously, tapping his claws together in consideration. “Probably not really long though. I’ve seen stuff like this a couple of times, and it’s – not pretty.”

“And if everybody else shows back up while she’s still – like that? How do we get her to take the elixir and change back?”

Neither demon had an answer for her.

“Well, if we don’t even really know what we’re going to do when they get back…” Luz stood from the welcoming couch, crossing the room to snag her wayward staff. “Then I’m gonna go grab my stuff, just to make sure.”

The relative peace of the silent second floor set her nerves on edge worse than any actual, horrible noises from Eda’s bedroom ever would have. The soft pitter-patter of rain bouncing off of the erected hardlight barrier outside imitated the similar sounds of water striking roof tiles, and it lent a strange sense of anticipation to the simple action of going up to her attic room to grab her boots, just in case. A small part of her almost expected a snarling, monstrous owl creature to come barreling out of a shadowed doorway at any moment – but nothing of the sort occurred. Luz was left to grab her beloved indigo cloak and sturdy hiking boots without interruption, giving her plenty of time to skitter back downstairs in her reclaimed outfit, feeling like an intruder within the household as she strived to silence her clunking footsteps.

It was her efforts to remain quiet that allowed her to hear the raised voices before she had descended the stairs, making the mage pull back out of caution as she carefully rounded the corner.

King and Odin were upright and alert on the couch, facing the open main entryway – where Hooty was having a heated argument with a figure wringing a soaked and steaming white cloak out on the doorstep, their face tangled in a snarl as the two bickered.

Wait a moment – Luz recognized that particular outfit, and the sodden green curls were a dead giveaway.

“Amity Blight? Why are you at the Owl House, of all places?”

The coven witch paused in her spat with the bristling house demon, her face smoothing back over into a blank – if politely surprised – expression as she secured her hooked beak mask to a belt loop, tossing her dripping shawl over the resident coat rack as she stepped into the home.

“Luz Noceda, wasn’t it? A… pleasure to see you again.” The law witch sidestepped Hooty’s aggressive lunge towards her collar, swatting the agitated creature away from her exposed nape as she trained her eyes on the approaching mage. “As you could likely guess, I was working in the area when that storm rolled in. I was hoping your host would allow me to take shelter inside until the rain passed.”

The young planeswalker’s eyebrows shot up at the somewhat vague announcement, narrowing her eyes at the girl as she casually draped herself over the arm of the threadbare sofa.

“And why would you be ‘working’ near the only wild witch’s house outside of Bonesborough? Besides that – you really think Eda would let a cop hang out in her living room? She’s a wanted woman.” Luz pointed out, folding her arms over her breastbone.

Amity Blight gave her a single shrug, polite indifference on her face.

“For all their bluster in the market the first time we met, my mentor and her sister do tend to set things aside when there are bigger problems.” Her tone remained even and cool, undisturbed by the searching queries and seething house demon behind her. “And Edalyn Clawthorne has never given me the impression of letting a young witch burn up during a thunderstorm. So I figured it was worth attempting.”

The mage’s lip curled into a suspicious frown.

“You didn’t answer the first question.” She stated, standing from her slump at the couch to deliberately place her staff against the back of the recliner – out of hand, but not too far away to grab in a hurry. “Do Emperor’s Coven members just… lurk in the woods on their shifts, or something?”

Blight’s lips flattened into a thin line as Luz looked past her to the open doorway, spotting the distant tree line beyond the edge of the magical shield – and a realization struck her.

“Wait – were you spying on us in the woods?” She asked incredulously, palming the back of her neck as she took in the awkward stiffness to the other girl’s posture. “Is that actually your job? I would’ve thought that you’d be – patrolling the streets, or filing paperwork, or something. Anything else, really.”

The green-haired witch rolled her golden eyes, sighing through the nose in resignation.

“Don’t be dense. Edalyn Clawthorne is a powerful and notorious wild witch, directly related to the head of our coven. Of course we’re going to keep her under observation most of the time, if only to make sure she doesn’t blow up an entire town or something equally idiotic.” Her gaze flickered to the pile of discarded satchels and bags from Luz and Eda’s camping trip the other day for just a moment. “Tracking her movements and activities is an important – if tedious – task that our members regularly perform.”

Luz followed her flickering line of sight, a kernel of burning suspicion nagging at her thoughts.

“And how long have you been watching the house?” She asked slowly, controlled frustration slipping into her tone. “Because you showing up here is awfully convenient, seeing as we were gone all week.” Luz turned back to the other girl, squinting at her in thought. “And I could’ve sworn that somebody else was up on the mountain while we were training. Lots of covered tracks and snapped branches. Any of that happen to ring a bell?”

Amity offered her upturned palms in surrender, brows moving towards her scalp in surprise.

“Guilty as charged. Though I’m shocked you noticed that – I pride myself on being thorough. And the Owl Lady didn’t seem too disturbed about someone else’s presence out there. Assuming you even told her.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes in exasperation, giving a short shake of her head that set her braid swinging.

“It’s a bit hard to hide stuff like that from somebody who’s lived in the outdoors for about half a decade. And I didn’t bother letting Eda know because whoever they were -” She directed a pointed look at the coven witch. “Seemed like they weren’t planning on making any trouble. No need to stress everybody out over something I may or may not have been overthinking. We were there to have fun and practice magic, not get all strung out in the woods or whatever.”

The mage’s head jerked back as another thought occurred to her, lending a sly glimmer to her eyes as she directed a small smirk their unexpected guest.

“Which reminds me! If you were so busy sneaking around and creeping on us while we were doing spells – then you saw me casting my own magic.” She announced triumphantly, wagging a finger at the disgruntled witch. “Which means that you were wrong for implying I was a phony at the market the other day. Admit it.”

The pale girl gave an aggravated scoff, glaring at the cheeky grin Luz directed her way following the statement.

“I’m not sure what exactly you were expecting.” She retorted hotly, some of her frustration leaking into her voice at the reminder of incorrect assumptions. “Humans aren’t normal around here, and they definitely are not supposed to be able to do magic. At all. Unless you’re some kind of mutant, there’s no way for you to have a bile sac that isn’t incredibly disturbing, or totally outlandish.”

“I don’t need one!” Luz singsonged, pulling on her dormant bond with the Isles to send a short arc of electricity bouncing harmlessly between her extended palms. “My type of magic isn’t something anyone around here would know, unless I taught them how to do it. You wouldn’t even need to – since you’ve got those bile sacs, of course.”

“I can see that.” The girl’s eyes homed intently on the burst of power slicing between the mage’s fingertips, watching the twisting bolts with a borderline hunger. “Which is something I wanted to talk to you about.” Her gaze turned up to Luz’s face. “I’ve never seen anyone do that. I’ve never heard of it, either. No spell circles – just raw magic. The only way a witch could do that was if they were incredibly upset.”

Amity seemed to steel herself for a moment, before pressing onwards, determination in her voice taking Luz aback at its intensity.

“I want you to teach me. Even better – show Miss Lilith how to, as well. If you were able.” Her glare was almost grave. “That kind of magic is powerful in the right hands. It should be something our people have access to – especially if it means that we can perform our duties under Emperor Belos more efficiently.”

The mage blinked for several long, silent seconds, feeling dumbfounded at the audacity of the request.

“You want me…” She stated each syllable glacially, her disbelief plainly evident. “The known associate of a high-profile criminal. To teach officers of the law – who have tried to arrest us before – how to do their jobs better.” Luz looked at the other girl incredulously. “And on top of that – to assume that teaching you isn’t just a trap on its own. At what point is this supposed to make any sense, exactly?”

Blight’s shoulders pulled back in a defiant set, her eyes narrowing at the exclamation.

“Perhaps I was hoping you would be more… flexible about this sort of thing than your housemates. Perhaps I thought there might be some chance of you having a sense of civic duty. After all -” Her voice tilted into a mocking pitch. “Didn’t you apologize for breaking the law the other day? Or was that simply an attempt to weasel out of the consequences for your actions?”

Luz couldn’t help the aggravated snort that blew from her nose, nostrils flaring in outrage at the accusation even as she reigned in her brief spike of anger.

“You can keep being rude all you want, but I’m the one that can give you what you’re asking for. And besides, right now? Is really not the time to be having this conversation.” The young mage turned towards the silent second floor uneasily, mind turning to the state of the Owl Lady’s health. “We’ve all got bigger problems right now, especially if you’re staying in here.”

“Oh, really?” Amity inquired derisively. “And what exactly might that be?”

Her query was punctuated by another roaring blast of thunder in the distance, a surge of rainfall smashing against the transparent enchantment outside with a howl – and followed by a muffled, bone-chilling shriek of inhuman rage from deeper within the Owl House.

The girls flinched back from the creaky staircase, even as King dived under a pile of pillows with a whimper at the sound. Hooty’s low, sibilant hissing directed towards Amity Blight cut short with a choke, black eyes blown wide at the screech.

“Whu-oh.” He stated blandly, twitching fearfully back and forth. “I can feel Eda ripping up her door to get out.”

The coven witch spun about to face the frightened house demon, her body language filled with tension at his proclamation.

“What does that mean?” She turned back towards Luz, her face a carefully maintained mask that did a poor job of concealing her fear. “What does he mean by that? Why are you keeping the Owl Lady captive in her own house?”

Luz ignored the pale girl’s question for the moment, snagging her staff with one hand as she called her flaming firebird to her shoulder with the other.

“I’m guessing Lilith never told you what Eda’s curse does to her if she doesn’t take her medicine.” The planeswalker grimly stated, securing the length of her cloak about her shoulders as she kept one wary eye on the stairway approach. “I didn’t find out until just a little while ago. It changes her – turns her into the ‘Owl Beast.’ And apparently she’s not very friendly when she’s like that.”

“What!?” Amity whispered in the still air, horror coloring her words. “That’s what it does to her? Miss Clawthorne always just went on about how it drained her sister’s magic – not how it turned her into a Titan-damned demon of all things!”

Luz felt the stirring rumble of the local mana sources thrum through her body, whipped into a frenzy that left her jittery and energetic by the fierce battering of the storm outside of the house. Blue and red magicka swirled over and within her limbs, invisible tendrils of power bucking against her grasp as the Isles writhed beneath the fury of its own weather.

“What’s she doing, Hooty?” The mage demanded tersely, flexing her fingers rhythmically as she sought to tame the wild energy fluttering about her. “Is Eda on the move, or just staying with her nest?”

The demon wriggled consideringly, his eyes glazed over as he tracked the transformed witch up above.

“Feels likes she’s moving around a bunch. Not really sure where…” The entity twitched back, his face twisting briefly in discomfort. “Hoot! I think she’s breaking stuff upstairs – and she’s headed for a big window!”

Luz felt her eyes widen at the report.

“If she gets out – there’s no way we’ll catch up with her in the storm.” She stated in breathy realization, turning to look at the cowering King of Demons and their undesired guest. “We’ve gotta keep her inside the house until Willow and Gus get back with her elixir. Otherwise – I don’t know what happens if she just keeps going.”

She was met with twin exclamations of shock at her boldness, distantly noting the wince given by the witch at the mention of her other friends.

“That’s insane!” King wailed, clutching a pillow tight for comfort. “Something that loud up there? She’s huge! You’ll never get her to stop on your own.”

“The demon’s right.” Amity spoke firmly, giving the black-furred being a sideways glance. “There’s no way you can stop a raging curse victim like that. It’s better to let her get out and work it from her system before you try to capture her again.”

The planeswalker rounded on them with a twirl, clenching her fists in angered disbelief at their lack of faith.

“That’s really your suggestion, huh? We don’t even know if Eda will be able to deal with the rain at the least! And if she runs off into the woods, if she doesn’t change back on her own – I have no idea how to find her again with that storm going on! We’ve got to stop her here, and now.” The determined mage turned around once more, ready to mount the stairs and tackle the situation directly. “And I’ll do it myself, with or without any of you.”

She was only a few steps up the walkway when the law witch hesitantly called her to a sudden stop.

“Wait.”

The green-haired girl was chewing her lip anxiously, tightening her hands into fists as she mulled over her decisions, before finally coming to a conclusion.

One of her slim hands rose up to shoulder level, openly extended for a compromising shake.

“If you promise to help teach myself and my mentor your magic – no tricks or arrests – then I’ll help you stop the Owl Lady. Together.”

Luz almost snapped at her defensively, indignation bubbling in her chest at the bargaining over someone’s wellbeing that the other girl was suggesting. But the echoing call of another furious scream from twisted vocal cords made her pause, rage petering away.

Eda needed help, and the mage needed all of the assistance she could get. There would be time for regrets later.

“Fine.” She attempted not to spit the word in mild disgust as she crossed the room, shaking the coven lackey’s hand with her own reluctant palm. “You have a deal. And if you try to haul me off to jail, I reserve the right to kick your keister for it. Now let’s go.”

The spellcasters set off without another word shared, following Hooty’s final set of vague directions as King sought shelter beneath a mound of blankets and cushions, giving his own whimpered well wishes while they ascended the second-floor staircase.

The lengthy, darkened hallways of flickering candlelight and shadowed doorways loomed ominously about the pair of women, the warmly eccentric atmosphere turned twisted and unwelcoming in the grey haze of light coming through irregularly placed windows. Countless portraits and paintings of seemingly arbitrary subjects dotted the halls they crawled quietly through, with little rhyme or reason to their placement and topics. It wouldn’t have surprised Luz to find that they were simply scavenged pieces currently in storage for Eda’s ever-growing collection of scrap goods for sale.

Or maybe they actually meant something to the mysterious Owl Lady. Perhaps she’d ask after they squared things away with the cursed woman.

Odin sat atop her shoulder uneasily, his flaming feathers guttering back and forth with his temper as he cooed lowly to his companion, his disturbance clear. She gave him a quick scritch at the base of his neck, hoping that the bright fire wouldn’t give away their position too quickly.

Amity Blight remained light on her feet, eyes and ears swiveling vigilantly as they followed the far-off sounds of scraping and bellowing. The witch cut the shape of a consummate professional – no idle chatter or twitchy movements. Simply the self-assured prowling of a dutiful spy to the Emperor, hands kept low and ready to cast a fierce spell at the first sign of trouble.

If it weren’t for her rather egregious attitude, Luz thought that she might even have been tolerable company. But as things currently stood…

They continued on in tense silence, creeping through the halls and tracking the increasing signs of destruction that began shortly after the Owl Lady’s ajar bedroom door was located. The wooden frame was practically ripped from the wall, dangling by precarious fibers to reveal the whirlwind of damages that had torn apart the chamber before Eda had managed to escape her confines.

It was several long minutes before they finally found the cursed woman writhing and clawing at the thick panes of a cracked window, mindlessly screaming at the tight enclosure of walls.

The witch’s cursed form was not as outright horrifying as Luz had initially feared – instead, lending a sense of being under the scrutiny of a large and territorial predator. Eda was almost the size of a van as the Owl Beast, stalking back and forth on four bestial paws as wide, powerful wings fluttered restlessly above her hunched shoulders. Her facial features and outrageous hairdo seemed bizarrely retained, leaving the mage with an uncanny impression of the humanoid witch stamped over the warped form she currently inhabited.

“What’s the plan?” Amity whispered under her breath, hands planted on her knees to suppress the trembling Luz spotted from their close proximity.

Without a word, the young mage plucked the firebird from her shoulder and set him upon the floor, motioning for her companions to remain hidden around the corner, as she stepped boldly into the hallway in spite of the witch’s hissed demand that she return to safety. Luz spread her hands out before her, palms open and visible, as she spoke firmly into the clamor that the Owl Beast was producing.

“Eda.”

The cursed creature whirled towards the sound of her voice after a moment of hesitation, making Luz step back against her will as the large, soulless black eyes of the being landed squarely on her. Regardless of her growing fear, the hopeful mage took a step forward, keeping her tone low and calm in the face of danger.

“Eda – I know it’s you in there. You know me – Luz Noceda. Remember?” She aimed for the same soothing, conciliatory tone half-remembered from days at her mother’s side, watching the woman console wailing children in the stark confines of a busy hospital. “See, that’s it. We’re friends, I know you can tell. You’ve just gotta try and calm down. Hooty can feel you ripping the walls up, and -”

There was barely a moment’s warning as the Owl Beast tensed before she leapt forward with a vicious cry, one taloned paw outstretched to catch Luz about the waist.

The mage buckled forward as Amity Blight slammed into her back, sending the two into an impromptu dive under the soaring form of the cursed witch, her razor-sharp claws ripping through the side of the wall – and clear through a branch of piping, sending water gushing out of the slash in the paneling.

Luz did her best to tuck into a recovery roll with little warning of the impact, stumbling back to her feet and dragging her ally upright as the enraged Owl Beast spluttered and shrieked, swatting at the face full of tepid water that she had received.

“That was your idea for calming her down!?” The pale girl shouted, looking at Luz with wide, furious eyes. “Are you trying to get us both eaten?”

There was no time for her to respond, not as Eda let loose another terrifying call and made to charge. She could feel the magic thundering through her soul, responding to the swell of panic filling her chest as her gaze landed on the growing puddle at the cursed woman’s feet. She hadn’t attempted anything on such a scale yet, but if she could manage –

Luz clutched the willful tides of blue mana in the air close to her open mind, calling on the feeling of icy terror sliding up her spine to rip the heat from the pool and encase the Owl Lady’s writhing form –

Odin gave a raucous caw as he soared over the snarling form of the Owl Beast, raking his claws across the crown of her scalp in a wheeling assault. Licks of flame flew in the wake of the attack, making the warped creature rear back, an almost human sense of fright filling her expression for a moment – before her enormous limb swung up in a panic, smashing into the firebird with a shocked squawk.

The firebird was flung down the hallway, slamming into the rough walls just beyond the growing pool of liquid with a sickening thwack as the Owl Beast shook itself free of the smoking remnants of its own scorched plumage.

“No! Odin!”

Eda was advancing on the downed bird, fangs bared in animalistic glee as she moved in for the kill. Luz was left with little choice but to slice through the strand of power connecting her and the elemental, leaving the wounded form of her friend to vanish in a whirl of fire as the spell returned him to Ravnica – just as a clawed fist smashed through the aged floorboards where he had sat moments before.

For all of her desire to prevent injury to Eda with her mind clouded by the curse, Luz couldn’t help the surge of flaming rage that accompanied the spike of fear as her emotions drove a spell forward. The pool the Owl Beast stood in surged up around the creature’s ankles, crawling into jagged tongues of steaming frost as it swallowed her four limbs whole. The warped witch screamed in blistering fury, tugging at the layer of frozen liquid keeping her trapped – only to writhe frantically as glowing bands encircled her form, holding her shaking limbs tight with arcane restraints.

The mage turned to her companion as the afterimage of a fading spell circle winked out of existence, leaving Amity to straighten up and give Luz a glare bordering on full-blown panic.

“What now?” She yelled, eyes flicking back to the Owl Lady’s seething body. “We can’t stay here forever – and this hallway’s a dead end!”

The two women stumbled back, clapping their hands to their ears as the Owl Beast gave a warbling shriek so loud that the spiderweb of cracks on the adjacent window blew out into a widening sprawl of creeping tendrils.

They were in over their heads. Taking Eda in a face-to-face confrontation wasn’t working – there were only so many ways to restrain the cursed woman without permanently harming her, and the two young spellcasters were much more vulnerable than the hardy form of the raging Owl Beast.

The hall trapped them on one end, with the Owl Lady covering their alternative exit. Water still poured from the wall sluggishly, dousing the trapped witch and only heightening her frothing fury. The window at the crook of the hall was nearly obliterated, but the protective enclosure outside cleaved too tightly to the exterior walls…

Eda lurched forward, screaming and slobbering like a creature from the depths of hell as her bonds began to shred apart under her weight.

Luz made an executive decision.

“Do you trust me!?”

“What!” Amity spun to look at her, eyes dragged away from their quarry. “What kind of question is that?” The mage only gave her a pleading look, drawing an exasperated groan from the girl. “I – yes, yes damnit, I trust your judgement, just whatever you’re going to do needs to be -”

Luz shucked her adored cloak from about her shoulders, tugging it down over Amity’s exposed upper body and leaving the witch to give a yelp of consternation.

“What in the Titan are you planning, Luz Noceda!?”

She didn’t dignify the question with a response, turning on her heel to the face the thrumming pulse of water swirling in the house’s pipes just beneath the surface.

Her iron will wrapped a sheath of blue mana around the bundle of metal tubing carrying streams of water past their position, and with an unyielding yank of her hands, drew the rushing fluids out of the pipes – and straight through the walls.

The burst of streaming water flew from the perforations dotting the ragged sides of the hallway, blasting through the weakened glass façade with a punch of concentrated force that sent splintered shards of glass spinning into the distance. She could barely control the gushing rapids of the liquid, but the terror of their approaching demise lent Luz a strength she was unaware she possessed in her magical abilities. With a grunt, she twisted the tendril of flowing liquid around the curve of the house, terminating it somewhere about where she expected the front door to be.

In a massive pulse of entwined crimson and sapphire mana, her crooked fist clenched jaggedly, and the flue of borrowed water was left frozen into an impromptu slide.

“Come on!” She grabbed the stunned witch by the hand, her pulse spiking as Eda’s icy prison finally gave way beneath her unnatural strength. There was no time left – she could feel the sluice of hardened water bucking against her control, battered by the heated rain splattering it – with the Owl Beast not far behind.

Luz hoisted the slightly smaller girl by the waist, ignoring her affronted squawk, and threw the pair of them onto the slide sideways with staff in hand.

She did her best to shelter Amity from the falling rainwater as they tumbled chaotically down and around the corner of the front yard, ducking into a curl, bracing herself for the impact – and the smattering of raindrops that pelted her nearly made her lose all control of their descent. Her roommates had not been exaggerating when they described the precipitation as ‘boiling,’ and she was left to twitch and jerk away from the stinging reach of the clouds as the pair went sprawling out in front of the porch where Hooty resided.

They scrambled with shared gasps under the cover of the awning, the planeswalker tossing her stave under the miniature roofing, their vehicle of escape crumbling away with a piercing crash as the ice fell apart beneath Luz’s scattered attention. The mage hissed in pain as the girls scooted beneath the temporary sanctuary, her exposed arms and ankles screaming with a raw ache from the burn of the rain and ruthless icy friction during their tumble. Her clothes were shredded in places by their hurried passage, exposing more scraped and bloody flesh beneath. Damnit – she’d have to break out the old sewing kit later.

“Is attempting to die… in spectacular fashion… just normal for you?” Amity wheezed out, clutching her ribs as she struggled to breathe following their uncontrolled flight from the Owl Beast.

Luz attempted to give her a sly smirk, the expression failing to hide her discomfited wince while she shifted about awkwardly in pain.

“Apologies, ‘Miss Law Mage.’ I only do that kind of stuff with people I like. Guess you’re s-stuck with me from now on. What a shame.” Her joke fell somewhat flat in the face of their stinging injuries.

“Oh, joy. I’m so glad to have caught the eye of a reckless criminal.” Her tone was not as harsh as the rebuke may have implied; any lingering frustration stamped flat by more pressing concerns.

After a few further seconds of silent rest, Luz gave a low groan, pulling herself and then Amity to their feet with her staff as she slammed one fist flatly against the front door a few times to draw Hooty’s attention. The house demon retracted from his extended perch, giving them a shocked look upon his arrival.

“Wow. What’d you guys do upstairs? You look like you lost a fistfight with a troll – and it feels like somebody ripped a bunch of my guts out! There’s water all over the place!”

“Sorry, Hooty.” Luz breathed, resting her forehead against the rough woodgrain. “We got cornered. I needed to make some ice to get us out of there. Are you okay?”

“I’m feeling kinda sleepy and wiggly right now, but I’ll be fine!” He chirped, circling the rapidly tiring mage. “You two should get inside before anything else gets nutty – King’s still in the living room waiting for you.”

Luz pushed the doorway open with an unamused shove, stomping into the foyer as her scuffed boots shed flakes of mud onto the sullied floor. The King of Demons was just where Hooty had reported, giving them a frightened glance as he ducked under his pillow cover.

“Whoa, did you try to bring down the whole Owl House?” He inquired, casting his eyes fearfully towards the upper floors as they awaited any further sign of the enraged witchbeast. “It sounded like you knocked over a wall or two!”

“We kinda did.” Luz deadpanned, running a hand lightly across her swelling scrapes and watching the stairs herself as she and Amity entered the central chamber.

Amity Blight opened her mouth to respond with an undoubtedly scathing comment, her expression drooping with bemusem*nt – only for her to choke on her own words as another horrifying scream flooded the house, leaving the trio frozen in their places. They were just quiet enough to catch the pounding approach of large, agitated footsteps stomping towards their position.

“Quick, this way!” King sprung from his enclosure with a frantic whisper, darting for a decrepit doorway placed between the kitchen and living room proper. The two battered girls shared a hesitant glance before rushing after him, darting through the darkened portal and down a flight of musty steps as they descended into the bowels of the Owl House, shutting the door behind them with a final click.

Luz found herself stumbling through the dark for an indeterminable period of time, tracking the huffing breaths of their diminutive guide as he led them further underground into what she assumed to be the structure’s basem*nt. No candles or lamps lit their path – only by trailing her free hand along the roughly hewn stone of the passageway could she mark their progress in the dark.

A long minute of scuttling in the abyss like frightened rats, and King finally announced their stop just as the stone steps leveled out into a dirty, uneven floor. She felt Amity breeze past her in the blackness, biting out a brief curse as she nearly tripped right over the short demon in their path, his yelped apology coming only a moment later.

The mage tuned their anxious bickering out, doing her best to move past the pain biting at her scrapes and cuts, past the ferocious swells of untamed magic swamping her metaphysical senses – reaching for the calm of savannahs from worlds afar.

A gently rippling globe of white werelight sprouted into being above her upturned palm, stopping the burgeoning argument in its tracks as Amity and King refocused on her spellwork. She set the tiny spell to float over her shoulder, keyed to follow her movements with a flick of intent as the magic finalized. Luz mustered up an expression of determination, insistent on hiding just how tired exhausted she was already feeling from their previous scuffle, making her companions straighten at the serious look on her face.

“Okay.” She began firmly, locking eyes with both of them in turn. “We need a plan of action to get Eda under control before Willow and Gus get here.” The planeswalker directed her full attention to the shortest of the trio, making him shuffle under the intensity of her stare. “King. How familiar are you with different kinds of demons? Can you think of something – anything –she might be vulnerable to, that won’t kill her?”

The tiny being gave a nervous hum of contemplation, drumming his claws against the grimy wall he had chosen to lean against for the moment.

“I’ve read a few different books about the different creatures you can find on the Boiling Isles. Let me think, let me think…” His eyes closed in growing concentration. “Eda’s cursed form is big, probably really strong – what did she look like? Any standout features you might’ve spotted?”

“Like a huge, pissed off owl,” Amity proclaimed without emotion, looking to the floor in thought. “Quadrupedal, wings big enough to carry herself and prey away, massive black eyes.”

King’s pupils dilated in excitement, voice pitching upwards at the revelation.

“Wait, that could be it! If her cursed form is similar to an actual owl, she might be set up to be active at night - which would also explain her weird sleeping patterns. Her eyes are probably super sensitive to bright lights.” His gaze swapped over to the small, fizzing sphere of illumination that hung over Luz’s one shoulder. “It’s probably why she didn’t take off, either…” He mused. “I bet she’s trying to protect her nest from ‘invaders,’ or whatever.”

The mage gave her hovering spellcraft a glance, the gears of her mind turning over following their discussion.

“And we can make lights, if we just get her to come to us. Amity?” The green-haired girl looked up inquisitively, some vigor returning to her at the address. “Can you do anything like this, with my little flashlight buddy?”

The coven witch nodded absently, narrowing her eyes as she spun a sparking spell circle through the dusty air – and a glowing ball of energy joined Luz’s previous light in floating amongst the group.

“Yeah, I can. It’s a pretty basic spell.” She gave the orbs a skeptical look. “But I don’t think it’s going to be enough to take down the Owl Lady when she’s like that.”

“Maybe not on its own…” Luz drawled, closing her eyes briefly. “But with enough focused light, we could probably stun her if she gets too crazy.” A second orb swelled in her palm, floating up to meet their collection of lights.

Twisting around towards the tiny demon, the green-haired witch demanded, “And how certain about this are you, exactly? We’re going to be awfully close to the Owl Lady if the idea is to flashbang her.”

“Eh…” King gave a low hum of consideration, before nodding firmly. “There’s a decent chance it’s true. I mean, my eyes are pretty big, so they can be kinda sensitive too. And I’m not even nocturnal.”

“And worse case, we’ll still be able to stun her at point blank,” Luz concluded. “Light spells pop if you dump too much into them, and having the sun go off in your face is enough to wig out anybody. Is there anything else?”She questioned, turning to King once more. “We know a few things about Eda like this – she’s angry, she can fly, her mind isn’t her own, she’s about four times her normal size…”

“Those just sound like major disadvantages.” King pointed out, shrinking back from her unamused glare. “Heh. Sorry. Um…” The demon’s eyes narrowed in a squint as he turned her statement over in his mind. “Hold on. She’s huge compared to when Eda isn’t cursed, right? And that transformation didn’t take very long at all…”

“What’re you thinking, King?”

“She might – might – be so aggressive because she’s hungry.” He posited slowly, looking about the room as he thought aloud. “A spell like that would tire anybody out, but when her curse messes with her magic, and makes her grow that fast?” His horned skull swung back and forth as the demon shook his head. “Eda’s probably cranky and starving enough to go after anything smaller than her. Especially since she isn’t thinking clearly, even without that.”

“That might just give us enough to room to work with.” Luz rubbed her palms together, a spark of excitement working its way into her system. “I’ve got a plan this time. Worst comes to worst, we’ll have Eda in place to stun her. But here’s what I’m thinking…”

Her companions leaned in close as she outlined their course of action, heads nodding slowly as they took in her impassioned plotting.

“Are you ready, King?” The mage whispered, looking to the small demon for affirmation. He gave a confident nod, legs tensing as he prepared to bolt through the rear exit of the damp basem*nt. Behind them, Amity stood at attention, cupping their current werelights to her chest as she waited for the demon to spring the initial step of their trap.

“Alright – go!” She threw the door open, letting the small creature out into the hall, closing it swiftly behind him as the King of Demons began hollering loudly in an effort to attract the Owl Beast’s attention. She could feel the cord of power connecting him to Luz’s magics, her focused red mana lending him greater speed and strength than would normally be possible so that he could remain ahead of their quarry.

After they heard the wild scramble of the angered Owl Lady go scampering off after their companion, the pair of women rushed to their original point of entry. Sure enough, as they breached the surface level of the Owl House once more, Eda had already left – bound and determined to hunt down the enticing target of the fleeing demon, who was currently making a circuit around the house while the enchantment lent him extra stamina. Hopefully, he would buy the spellcasters enough time to establish their snare.

Amity Blight set to releasing as many light orbs of various sizes into the living room as she could manage, ceaselessly dumping dozens into the central chamber and allowing them to float into the distant rafters. As the coven witch threw out globe after globe, Luz claimed the kitchen for her part in their plan, yanking the various cuts of meat still frozen in the refrigerator that she had located earlier that day.

With a sizable pile of their remaining stock of food now defrosting on the counter, the harried mage set to crafting a familiar enchantment in an effort to leave the offerings more enticing for the ravenous Owl Beast, wrapping the mound of sliced meats in a blanket of gentle warmth that would theoretically drive the chill from the flesh, without rendering it fully dried or cooked. She doubted that Eda’s cursed form would hold any appreciation for a properly prepared meal in her current state.

As the scent of warmed meat gently flooded the kitchenette, Luz joined the pale witch in releasing yet more orbs of rippling energy into the air, attempting to fill as much of the space as she could with the spheres so as to provide a last resort weapon against the enraged creature rampaging across the homestead.

Finally, after long minutes of frantic spellcasting and terse silence, she could hear King returning to the central room with the thundering Owl Beast in tow. Amity caught her eye as she passed, heaping the heated flesh onto a set of clashing kitchenware to be transferred to the seating area.

“Are you sure about this, Luz?” Her golden eyes bored intensely into the mage’s gaze, a nugget of genuine concern buried beneath her own fears. “If you can’t control all of these lights – if Eda doesn’t care about the food, then…”

“Then I’ll have you, Hooty, and King to help me pin her down.” The planeswalker asserted firmly, leaving no room for argument. “I have faith that you guys have my back.” She paused, a note of hesitation in her posture, before clapping a hand to Amity’s shrouded shoulder in an effort to comfort the other girl. “It’ll work out. Just – trust me.”

There was only room for one of them to be nervous, here. Especially considering one of them was being included on shaky faith as an ally of convenience. Luz refused to let her own anxieties show on her face.

Blight didn’t say anything else as she positioned herself in the cover provided by the basem*nt doorway, but she didn’t need to. Her professional countenance had long since given way to the fear of being hunted by the Owl House’s mistress.

The monstrous footfalls were growing closer, King’s needling taunts and squeals of surprise floating into the room they occupied. There was no time left for doubts.

Luz sat in the center of the cleared living room, hands on her kneecaps, as she breathed in deeply.

White magic was far from her specialty. She had never felt the pull of comfort or conformity that her Kor tribe had once spoken of, the soft reassurance of belonging amongst the masses. She had spent far too long on the fringes, a stranger even amongst allies. Torn away from family and cast into the world with a rebellious, fearful heart.

But now – even amongst the terror of being run down like prey, the nagging worries about their success, the concern for her fellows – Luz felt the closest to being accepted as she ever had.

Her new friends had yet to judge her – only accepted her oddities, and her tall tales, and all of the wisdom she had bought with tooth and nail. They were knitting themselves into the canvas of her lifestyle, worming into her heart.

And she was glad for it.

Comfort of ‘uniformity’ – perhaps it would have been better described as ‘familiarity.’ The understanding of others, and in return, being acknowledged and accepted by one’s peers.

Her breath filtered slowly through her nose, taking the clashing emotions of the day with it. Another lungful of oxygen went in – and the bobbing bulbs surrounding her flared with the upswell.

She wasn’t crafting a new spell, or attempting something unfamiliar. Luz was just – reaching out to the magic floating in the air, expressed through burning orbs of light energy. Understanding them. Feeling them in her chest, in her mind.

The werelights descended like a swarm of soft will-o-wisps at the tug of her conscience, dimming in tune with the mage’s exhalation. White mana suffused the air like a soft blanket, casting a pall of swelling peace that settled over the room in a subtle snare, twisted into place by the gentle ministrations of blue mind magics.

Eda the Owl Lady came thundering into the living room with a snarl only seconds later, chasing after the shrieking form of her small, elusive prey that darted for the front door – just to slide to a sudden stop at the entrancing sight filling the chamber.

Luz sat unflinchingly in the epicenter of the Owl House, taking slow, deliberate gulps of air as her armada of glowing orbs swirled silently above, dancing and flaring with the timing of her breathing with the comforting presence of her trusty staff across her lap. The scent of warm, bloody meat filtered through the air, leaving the cursed creature’s wide nostrils twitching as she crooned, one great paw reaching with innocent desire towards the nearest werelight – only for the spell to pull slowly away, retreating towards the stationary mage.

“Eda.” She spoke clearly and insistently, enunciation carefully crispened in the sudden stillness of the household.

“Are you feeling hungry? I brought something for you to eat.”

The first steak flew forwards with a wet thump, landing before the stunned monster. Eda hesitated for only a moment before the flank cut was gone, gobbled down by an enthusiastic Owl Lady.

The witchbeast blinked up at the fearless countenance of her one-time prey, padding forward with an avian tilt to her head as she took in the whirling swarm of weaving lights that orbited the girl. Her wide, pupilless eyes caught on the sight of a veritable goldmine of meat placed just out of reach, various plates surrounding Luz. The fact that the scent wasn't overpowering the hypnotic effects of her spellwork was a good sign; otherwise, the peace offering may well have ended up as a distraction for the tense mage while she fled.

Drool slid down the beast's bared fangs as she reached for the treat, animalistic avarice in her gaze –

“No.” The planeswalker held up a single hand to accompany the forceful word, keeping her gaze level and undisturbed by the motion. Her other limb tossed out another morsel, keeping the Owl Beast preoccupied for another moment longer with its wandering attention, dazed by the lightshow twirling around the room. “You can have some more when you lay down with me.”

Eda seemed almost taken aback at the statement, giving a displeased growl as she made to circle around the seated woman. But she made no further aggressive motions, bloodthirst forgotten in the magical oddity they had crafted for the cursed witch.

Give a little to get a little, Luz, she reminded herself. One hand snaked low, reaching slowly for the meat in question, and tugging its plate level with her resting hip. It was short work to toss a third slab of the food towards the slobbering creature – and in a flash of pearly daggers, the morsel disappeared, gone as if it had never existed. Hungry eyes glared at the remainder with undisguised interest, before flickering back towards the orbs above, pupils blown wide and foggy by the soft lull of the magical lure.

“Eda.” Her tone brokered no argument. “You can have this if you behave. So…” Luz’s voice sweetened into a low, tempting croon, bending low and giving the exposed floorboards a cheery set of slaps as her horde of glowglobes descended to ankle height, swirling about the floor on ethereal wind. “Lie down. And you can eat.”

The Owl Beast was utterly enraptured by the display of lights, the black pits of her eyes tracking them as unerringly as she had King just moments before. The mage kept her breaths steady, even as a thread of worry worked its way through her. Would Eda even be receptive to treatment like this? Was she able to comprehend anything that was occurring, in this moment?

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, waiting and hoping, did Eda the Owl Lady fall to the floor with a whump. Her gaze broke from the hypnotic light cloud, returning once more to a relieved Luz – who awarded her a winning, toothless smile, dragging one of several plates around to place before her beastly compatriot.

“See? That’s what I was talking about!”

Thick cuts of bloody meat were swallowed nearly whole by the ravenous witch creature, an entire meal’s worth of hellboar slices disappearing down her gullet in a matter of seconds. Eda’s wide black eyes turned expectantly towards the seated mage, but made no move to lunge for the remainder of the offered food – leaving her to give the beast a more subdued grin of pleasure for a second time.

“Are you going to stay calm? If you do, you can have the rest.” The witch’s stare seemed uncomprehending, but she didn’t make any sudden adjustments to her position on the floor. Luz waited for as long as she dared, leaving the Owl Lady – and their hidden audience – hanging on every silent second, before breaking the stillness with another plate slid towards the cooperative being.

“Good job. You’ve earned it.”

It felt pedantic, speaking to her like an unruly child, but she legitimately questioned what fraction of Eda’s faculties were available to her as they sat peacefully amongst an ocean of glimmering witchlights. The Owl Beast had clearly worked some of the desperate desire from her system, taken as she was by the twisting orbs above. There was no spark of realized intelligence, no reformation or revelation behind the windows to her soul. But she wasn’t lashing out at everything around her – it was a definite start.

Several plates of cutlets later, Luz decided to press her luck with the warped witch. She scooted across the carpet, striving to ignore the throbbing burns and scrapes that littered her body, as she extended an open palm slowly, ever so slowly, towards Eda’s feathered head. She made no motion near the coveted plates of food, only aiming for the expanse of downy fluff behind the witch’s voluminous ear.

The Owl Lady kept one eye on the encroaching limb, but continued her shocking demonstration of restraint by allowing the contact. Gently, the mage’s hand stroked up and down the cursed woman’s scalp, fingertips gently pressed into the skin beneath – and the Owl Beast made no move to pull away. She gave her companion a few more vigorous, searching scratches, before pulling away to deliver another platter of morsels before the witch.

This cycle continued on and off for what felt to Luz like an entire passing day, slowly breaking the barriers between herself and the bestial mind of her friend while she gave every last bit of meat left in the Owl House as offering. Eventually, there was nothing left to give, and she couldn’t help but tense at the failure to procure more sustenance, especially being seated so closely – but Eda didn’t react.

Blackened eyes were drooping with lethargy, lulled into a peaceful doze by the passage of time and satisfaction of her gnawing need to consume. She didn’t fully relax into the girl’s touch, not quite, but the tense poise to her swollen musculature slowly faded away beneath Luz’s ministrations. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could foggily recall a nature documentary on foreign predators of the plains, and how their short bursts of activity were often followed by an imperative period of rest. She could only hope such biological quirks remained consistent for such alien worlds.

At some point, the remaining trio had snuck their way back into the room, with Amity and King forming a pair of islands amongst the sea of magical lamps, their own awed looks circling the sight before them. Hooty simply took in the view for a moment before slithering around to the seating arrangements, laying out on the overstuffed chairs with a relieved sigh.

Eda failed to stir as Luz quietly retracted her hand, gesturing for the coven witch to help haul the mage to her feet. Amity pulled her up, offering a steady hand on the shoulder when she stumbled on bloodless legs, leaving her stave resting on the floor.

“Thanks for the help with this.” Luz muttered lowly, prompting the other girl to turn away as a light dusting of a stubborn blush reached her fair cheeks at the praise. “Can you go grab the first-aid kit from the kitchen? It’s right under the sink, can’t miss it.”

The green-haired girl nodded her assent, dropping the mage’s hand to go search for the aforementioned medical chest as Luz stumped over to the open couch. She fell back into it with a sigh, wincing at the surge of discomfort from her battered self. There was little time to rest her eyes before Amity returned with a box brimming with gauze, burn cream and bandages – just what the proverbial doctor had ordered.

In no time at all, the planeswalker was swabbing down cuts with burning patches of alcohol-soaked cloth, applying ointments and band-aids as she went. Her sweep of accumulated injuries was methodical and efficient, leaving no scrape untouched and every cut swathed with a riot of reclaimed bandages from her homeworld. The law witch watched her as she worked, tracing the injuries with a critical eye as they disappeared beneath protective coverings from their shared position on the couch.

“You’re awfully proficient at patching yourself up.” She noted quietly, golden eyes flicking to Luz’s face, where the mage was layering a singular covering with a miniscule blob of disinfectant. “Get into a lot of battles like this?”

“Nah, nothing this crazy.” The mage responded, applying the finishing touches to her self-care. “Actual fights, even to the death? Sure. But I don’t wrangle giant bird ladies for a living.” She flipped the flimsy cardboard carton of band-aids shut, replacing it within the aid kit. “My mom was a nurse. I spent my whole childhood learning how to clean myself up, since I liked to go explore the woods and bang up my knees.”

Her companion gave a thoughtful hum, sweeping her line of sight out into the living room proper, where the two (currently three) resident demons were dozing under the watchful gaze of their bespelled lights. After a few seconds, Amity jolted, one hand coming up in an aborted gesture to her shoulders – where Luz’s deep violet cloak lay draped.

“Oh! I should probably give this back.” She pulled the lengthy indigo garment over her head, folding it neatly into a wrangled bundle as she presented it to the lounging planeswalker. “Thank you, for that. Earlier, with the – the rain.”

Luz accepted the offering with a gracious smile, tossing it onto the scuffed coffee table with a seemingly careless flick of her wrist.

“No problem. I figured that it was only courteous to offer it, since it was my crazy plan to go out in the storm to begin with – hold on a sec.” Her gaze traced a jagged pattern of miniature burns and dried blood just above Amity’s wrists, where her limbs had gone uncovered during their descent. “You didn’t mention getting hurt earlier. You should’ve said something!”

“What, this?” The witch gave her injured arms a brief look, uncertainty flitting across her features. “It’s fine. You took the brunt of it, and I didn’t want to whine about something so minor. I’ll just clean it when I leave -”

“Nope! Nuh-uh.” Luz shook her head emphatically, popping the plastic crate of medical supplies open once more. “Here – give me your hands, I’ll fix you up.”

“I’m fine, really…” The other girl’s weak protestations fell on deaf ears as the mage gently grasped her battered wrists, wraps and creams at the ready.

Amity Blight seemed incapable of looking Luz in the eye as her wounds were tended to, blankly glaring a hole through the stained floorboards as she was bandaged up. She yanked her arms away from the young planeswalker as soon as she was able, eyes wide behind her faltering mask of unfeeling professionalism.

“Thank you, again. B-But you really didn’t have to.” She stammered, the bare edges of a flush working up the tips of her pointed ears.

Luz gave a disbelieving shake of her head once more, leaning back into the comfortable expanse of the couch.

“What kind of host would I be if I let you go home all messed up because of my bright idea?” She inquired rhetorically, giving the coven witch a level look. “Just because I wasn’t happy about you wheedling magic lessons out of me when I needed help, doesn’t mean I’d leave you high and dry. That’s not the kind of person I am.”

“Ah. Yes. I’d… almost forgotten about our arrangement.” The good-natured fluster caved inwards for a sliver of guilt to stretch across her features as the green-haired woman lounged back into the upholstery. “I… we made that agreement under duress. If you aren’t comfortable doing something like that, then -”

Ah… and here came opportunity, knocking at her door.

On one hand, Amity was a part of the police. Governmental bodies, the mage had found, were not something you simply trusted out of pocket. Everyone had an agenda, especially in positions of power. She doubted the Emperor’s Coven was much different.

On the other… the green-haired witch had already stuck her neck out to keep Luz in one piece, and now it seemed her conscience was catching up with her. It was almost certain that handling Eda would’ve been much more difficult without the girl’s assistance.

Kill them with kindness, mija, her mother had always said, a little chuckle under her breath without fail. The best way to deal with your enemies is to make sure you only have friends. Not that it’d ever worked with the bullies - but morally flexible cops? That was a whole other story, one she was plenty familiar with from her stint on Ravnica... and those folks didn't even have any criminal sisters or long-lost friends to complicate things.

“Gonna stop you right there.” Luz rolled right over the attempt at an apology. “I won’t flake out on a promise of mine, just because somebody’s got cold feet. Sorry, no take-backsies.” Her voice rose into a teasing lilt, a sly grin matching the words to let the witch know there wasn’t any bite in the statement. “’Sides, I clearly remember you tackling me out of the way when Eda was trying to take my head off, so I’d say I owe you anyway. Take that for what you will.”

And maybe, a quiet, conniving corner of her exhausted mind whispered, you and your snotty boss might just cough up some important answers about Eda and Willow, along the way.

A soft, uncertain laugh met her words as the witch finally relaxed, lying her head limply against the seat.

“Whatever you say, Luz Noceda. I don’t have the energy to argue right now.”

The pair descended into a companionable silence, watching the dip and dive of dim witchlights overhead, basking in the quiet lessening of the storm outside as its fury was finally expended.

Luz wasn’t certain how long they all sat together, even Eda in her twisted body, dozing in the peace of a room full of emotionally and physically exhausted people. All she could say with confidence was that she had nearly fallen asleep when a soft weight fell upon her shoulder, startling the mage from the descent of rest.

Little Miss Law Mage had nodded off in her seat, slumping over to lean into Luz’s firm side. Had she been less sore and a bit more coherent, Luz felt she might have some commentary regarding a cute girl deciding to cuddle up with her on the couch.

As it stood, the comforting presence of another warm body only lured her further into the clutches of exhaustion, and it was not long afterward that she drifted off into a light nap.

She didn’t even mind the minor amount of drool on her sleeve all that much.

Raised voices, brimming with fearful concern, woke the spellcasters some length of time later.

“Luz? King, are you guys okay? Hooty looks like a corpse on the couch!” A sharp gasp cut across the call.

“Gus, quiet - that’s Eda right there!”

“What? Is she still – oh Titan. She’s huge.”

“Where’s everybody else? I can’t see past all of these lights…”

The mage shot up from the couch with a jolt, leaving Amity to fall on the cushions with a shocked yelp as her support was suddenly yanked out from beneath her, dragging the coven witch into wakefulness as well.

“Wuzzat? Don’t bug the baby, we just got her to sleep!” Luz slurred tiredly, rubbing the grains of slumber from her bleary eyes even as she gestured with a hand, sending her werelight swarm into the rafters above.

“Luz! Oh, thank the Isles that you’re okay!” Willow rushed to side, cupping the groggy planeswalker’s face as she inspected her accumulated injuries. “What happened to you? It looks like you fell down a flight of stairs in the middle of a grease fire!”

“Had to detour out of the house.” She reported with a croak, running a hand over the menagerie of bandages covering her limbs. “Don’t worry, though. We were both alright.”

“I’m glad to hear it, but – wait. Who is ‘we?’”

Amity Blight rose from her position on the sofa behind Luz, cradling her skull where she had landed, and the room descended into abrupt, icy silence.

The mage cracked open an eye to see both of her friends glaring daggers at the other witch, who was growing visibly more self-conscious with every passing second of scrutiny. She couldn’t help the exasperated groan that slipped from her lips.

“Guys, c’mon. I just woke up after the roughest day I’ve had in probably the last year. I know you’ve got beef with Amity, but can we please stay civil for like, five minutes? She saved my life – and honestly, I just don’t have the energy to deal with anymore drama today. No offense.”

Her words seemed to have the desired effect, leaving the trio of witches to bashfully split their staring contest apart, turning away from one another to stare off in random directions. Luz gave another lengthy sigh at the sight, but dropped the subject. She knew when she was beaten on a heated topic.

“Thanks. Now – did you find any more elixir for Eda?” The young mage’s stomach grumbled raucously in the quiet. “And maybe dinner. I think we skipped lunch while working on wrangling the Owl Beast for a whole day.”

Wordlessly presenting the bottles of medicinal tincture, Gus gave the coven servant a wary stare before backing away from the couch. The boy took up position beside a fuming Willow, the clenching of her fists the only giveaway for the anger flooding her system. Their standoff was unnerving enough that Luz passed her friends without comment, retrieving one of the looping bendy straws she vaguely recalled having spotted on a previous pass through the kitchen, jamming the tip of the tube in-between the slumbering Eda’s lips as she sank it into the viscous potion pot.

The owl monster instinctively suckled at the offered straw, leaving Luz to release a relieved sigh as she turned back to the cluster of upset witches in the living room.

Miss Blight was remarkably quick – in the time it had taken the mage to deliver the fluorescent potion to their mutated host, she had crossed to the open doorway, and was in the midst of pulling her stiff white cloak over her body when she caught Luz’s eye. The other girl looked away swiftly, expression stoically stony.

“I’m not here to cause trouble. The storm is passed, so I’ll be returning to give my regular report to my superiors. Thank you, citizen, for providing me shelter during the boiling rains.” Her statement was wooden and insincere, a perfect match to the ramrod posture that the coven witch had fallen back on defensively in the face of confrontation.

“Is that all you have to say, Amity. Really? After all this time?” Willow snarled, glasses gleaming in the flutter of witchlights. “How do we know you aren’t just here to rat us out, get everybody in trouble with your coven?”

The law witch stiffened even further, a parade of emotion fluttering across her face before settling on weary resignation.

“You’ve never had to worry about that before. My position here is to observe the Owl Lady herself – as far as my reports are concerned, nothing and no one else matters.”

“Yeah. You’d know all about nothing mattering but your precious mission, wouldn’t you, Amity Blight?” Gus’ words were equally scathing, his hackles raised in light of the loaded conversation.

The pale girl scoffed dismissively, spinning on her heel to exit the Owl House, but she couldn’t hide her expression from where Luz was standing.

“I’ll be taking my leave now.” Golden irises flickered one last time to meet with the mage’s own soft brown eyes, the tension in her jaw easing minutely with the contact. “Don’t forget our deal. We’ll be in touch.”

With that, Amity Blight made her exit, and a notable quantity of frustration went with her.

Luz expected her companions to jump down her throat regarding the witch’s melodramatic parting words, but they were kind enough to let her have some of the bagged food they had brought along in lieu of a homemade meal, leaving her to scarf down the lukewarm sandwiches as she explained to them, in bits and pieces, what they had missed on their hasty flight into Bonesborough.

Alas, they couldn’t stay another full evening, citing concerned parents and a lack of supplies, among other things. Honestly, if it weren’t for their desperate requests for her to spend the night in a safer location, she might’ve assumed they were just trying to avoid a potential confrontation with an enraged Owl Beast. However, Eda had been dutifully drinking down the potion in her slumber for several hours, and it had been both fascinating and revolting watching her shrink back into her normal witch body. Only once she was humanoid again did Luz dare to dispel her collection of glowing baubles.

The planeswalker lingered in the living room long after her friends had left the premises, promising to call them if anything else went awry as she took a seat by the unconscious Owl Lady, waiting for her host to finally regain her senses alongside her equally exhausted demonic housemates.

Yet she couldn’t help but ponder her parting interaction with one Amity Blight well into the darkened hours of night, and the wistful regret she had worn on the way out as she turned her back to Gus Porter and Willow Park.

Another item for future consideration, like so many others – especially once she got some actual sleep for her body.

Ugh. She was going to be aching for days.

Chapter 13: Interlude 2

Chapter Text

When Eda Clawthorne awoke to find herself face down on the floorboards, body echoing with random bouts of aching and a hole burned clear through her short-term memory, she reasonably assumed herself a victim of quite too much spiked appleblood the prior night.

Wait. No. It’s only getting dark now. And the kids are –

Kids. Her kids, at home or otherwise. They clearly weren’t anywhere nearby – only her immediate housemates were present, sprawled out on the furniture in undignified heaps.

King, Hooty, and… Luz.

Her breath caught dead behind her fangs at the sight of the kid lying on the couch before her, dread squeezing her throat tight as scattered bits of recollection filtered in through the fog.

The young mage was slumped in a lazy clump, one arm hanging low over the couch as she dozed – clearly revealing the multitude of bandages, stretches of gauze, and opaque smears of ointments littering all of her limbs.

Oh Titan. The girl looked like somebody’d kicked her ass in a back-alley brawl. Had she…?

No – no covered-up claw marks, or bruises from getting tossed around by a pissed off Owl Beast. Whatever happened to Luz, hadn’t been the direct work of her cursed self. It was almost enough to make Eda sigh in sagging relief.

Almost. Her guests were clearly worse for wear, especially if they were napping this early in the evening. Even Hooty was dead to the world with his pals, splayed out like a limp noodle across multiple scavenged seats.

She staggered to her feet, plucking the straw dangling from her lips with a slim hand – aha. So Willow and Gus had managed to pick up some of her elixir at some point and get it back to the house. At least it was better than waking up in the woods a day or two later, when the magic in her system flushed the curse back into hiding for a bit longer.

Didn’t help that it was getting harder and harder for her body to do so, but that was a problem for another day.

The witch opted to leave the snoring bunch be, moving to scavenge the kitchen for anything resembling a meal to soothe her growling gut. There was an almost offensive lack of options to eat in her cupboards – they really needed to make a supply run down to town, now that the storm and other, more… unpleasant things had been taken care of. She did note the rickety crate full of glimmering curse cures on the counter, however. She’d have to thank the other kids next time she saw them – probably apologize for traumatizing them a little too.

The exhausted Owl Lady settled on assembling some slapdash leftovers still lingering in the refrigerator for a makeshift meal, munching despondently through the fare as she kept one eye trained on the passed-out forms of her housemates. Rampages like that never left her with much to recall – only the hazy before and after full of panic as the curse ripped through her body and mind.

And only that damned nightmare about the prick who’d cursed her. Shrouded in billowing darkness, lanky and bug-eyed, reaching over while her teen self slept peacefully, completely oblivious –

The Owl Lady shook herself free of the clinging frustrations, determinedly packing the anger and the horrible, nagging suspicions down deep as she stubbornly shoveled a mouthful of food into her gullet.

Not now. Wasn’t the time for that kind of heavy baggage.

Maybe not ever, if she couldn’t work up the nerve to just ask if…

The moment’s distraction was all she needed to miss Luz rolling over with a groan, palming her groggy eyes as she registered the gentle clacks of silverware on a scuffed plate.

“Guh. Eda? Izzat you in there?” Dang. And the witch thought she was incoherent when she had to get out of bed.

“It’s me, kid.” She called somewhat softly, opting not to shout the demons awake alongside her little mage mentor. “You know - the actual me. Less slobber, more sass.”

The young planeswalker was at least conscious enough to give a snort at the statement, peering through half-lidded eyes as she padded into the kitchen, the thick wool of her socks muffling footfalls. She slumped down into the stool adjacent to Eda, dropping her elbows on the table to cradle her head as she worked her way back into the land of the living.

“That’s good to hear, I guess.” Luz mumbled, her voice muddied by the hands cupping her cheeks. “My mami always used to say that a little sarcasm’s good for the soul.”

Eda managed a barked laugh at that statement, shaking her head with a spark of genuine amusem*nt.

“Heh. Is that where you get all your wit, then?” She ribbed the younger woman, planting an elbow gently in her side. “I thought that was s’posed to come from being so well-traveled and ‘worldly.’”

Luz gave the witch a look of mock offense, her own grin threatening to shatter the stern expression on her face as she shook the sleep from her bones.

“I’ll have you know I am both witty and funny, by my own merits, thank you.” She huffed, resting her balled fists at her hips. “It’s not my fault if you plebians can’t comprehend genius when you see it.”

“Oh, breaking out the grown-up words now, are we? Didn’t know we had a big ol’ nerd on our hands.” Eda jabbed her in the ribs with a clawed fingertip, making the girl flinch away with an exaggerated squeal, leaving them both chuckling at their shared antics.

“Hey, maybe you can start up a little comedy gig on your own time with King, over there.” She joked, hiking a thumb past her shoulder towards the living room. “Titan knows that boy thinks he’s a real hoot.”

“Did…ugh. Somebody say hoot?”

The pair turned in tandem to look at a pathetically drooping Hooty slithering across the floor, limply dragging his body back to the front door where he was mounted. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise – Eda hadn’t seen the house demon that saggy and sad-looking since Lilith had swung by a while back, and clobbered the poor thing for trying to grab her.

“Holy moly, Hooty. What happened to you? Ya look like a stabbed balloon.”

“Oh, hardy har!” His unamused voice floated weakly past the splintered doorframe as his bulk retracted into the woodwork. “Real nice, making fun of me after you ripped up the whole house. I’m still leaking upstairs, y’know.” The house demon grumbled crankily as the door swung shut, locking itself on the way out as he retreated to lick his wounds for the night.

Her head swiveled back towards Luz, who was gazing sympathetically after the battered creature, a question in her golden eyes for the girl.

“What, exactly, did I get up to while I was in my cursed form? Seems like he took a real beating earlier today.”

“Uh huh, yeah. About that.” The kid coughed sheepishly into a fist, deliberately looking away from her increasingly suspicious glare. “I – we tried to stop you from going out the window after you changed, and…a few walls and pipes got wrecked upstairs. And a window.” Luz cringed at the admission, one hand ghosting over the array of band-aids coating her arms. “The shield spell, um – didn’t go far enough out. We had to pass through the barrier to get out through the window when you… cornered us.”

The witch’s gut twisted at the report, her chest tightening in horror at the kid’s words.

“Wha – how did I even trap you, to start? And who the hell were you running around the house with, trying to wrangle me?” She couldn’t swallow back the incredulousness in her tone. “I have a hard time believing you got King to go toe to toe with me as the Owl Beast.”

“Amity Blight.” The girl mumbled, fiddling with the end of her thick braid. “Apparently the Emperor’s Coven keeps a toady or two watching the house - and she said that if you were there, you’d have let her in ‘cuz she’s your sister’s apprentice.”

“…Yeah, alright. I would’ve.” Eda admitted, nodding absently to herself. Her lips dipped into a petulant scowl. “Wouldn’t be happy about it, though. I’d probably have to pester the hell out of Lily’s Baby Blight as payback for letting her crash on my couch.”

The witch turned back to Luz, one eyebrow raising as she reoriented from the brief tangent.

“Okay, so. Lily’s kiddy shows up, you get her to help fistfight me upstairs or whatever. And then you go flying out the window, because…?”

“I. Um.” The young mage’s fingers beat an anxious tempo against the tabletop. “I. Tried to stop you. By… talking. To the Owl Beast.”

The statement came out as an ashamed whisper, and another fist wrapped around her heart at the words.

“Kid. Look at me.” Eda grabbed her twitching hands, turning to fully face her guest even as Luz tried to shy away from the attention. “When I get like that – it’s not me in control. I dunno if it’s some split personality deal, or just a bunch of angry instincts, but the curse doesn’t let me think. Or behave how I want. You can’t -” She shook her head, feeling an edge of hysteria slip into the rebuke. “Can’t just hope that the ‘power of friendship’ or whatever is going to make you come out on top. The real world just – doesn’t work like that.”

The mage wouldn’t look at her, eyes crinkled in regret as she faced away.

“I had to try.” Her voice came out as a defeated mutter. “I know you told me before, but… I didn’t want to just give up on you.” Finally, the mage swung her head back around, a bit of steel returned to her gaze as she straightened up. “And it wasn’t all a fluke, anyway. We got you to calm down when Amity and I worked together - made a bunch of light spells in one place to grab your attention, and then fed the Owl Beast when it… you finally relaxed.”

She couldn’t contain the look of surprise at that nugget of information. They’d actually managed to make her chill out with some… basic baby-level magic?

Then again, she did normally adore her shinies. Huh.

“Be that as it may…” The exasperated witch tried again. “It’s not worth getting torn to shreds trying to talk sense into a feathery brick wall, girly. I don’t wanna see you get hurt on my account -”

Luz threw her arms up in a huff, shaking herself loose of Eda’s grasp as her expression creased into a disgruntled grimace.

“So what, I was just supposed to let you run off into the woods? Into the rain?” She shook her head in aggravated denial. “We had no idea if you could take that kind of heat. Or if you’d come back to the house, change on your own, or whatever! I wasn’t going to let you just disappear into the woods forever -”

“Kid…” She tried to interrupt the burgeoning tirade.

“And leave – all of us behind!”

…Oh. Titan damn it. She – hadn’t really told any of them how the whole curse even worked before she ran off. Eda could’ve smacked herself for not seeing this coming.

The mage was standing now, her stool knocked aside, shoulders heaving with ragged gasps as she glared the shocked witch down. The Owl Lady couldn’t even fully register the girl’s enraged proclamation.

She really cared that much about a frumpy, washed-up old lady like her?

Before she could even truly gather her thoughts, to reassure the young woman that everything was fine and she wasn’t going anywhere, a pair of warm arms encircled her tightly as Luz tucked her head against the side of the Owl Lady’s skull. She couldn’t help but stiffen in surprise, even as a low, mournful tone ghosted past her sensitive ear.

“I won’t just abandon the people I care about because I’m scared. Not again.”

She could feel the tense, distant cold enwrapping her heart melting at the statement. Titan, but she was a sucker.

“It’s alright, Luz.” A lengthy, tired sigh gusted from her lips as she slowly returned the intimate embrace. “I should’ve told all of you a lot more than I did, and a lot sooner, to boot. Might’ve been able to avoid some of this crap if I had.”

She broke off the comfortable hold, dragging a hand down her face exhaustedly.

“For future reference, I normally change back after a few days without my potion. It’s… been a little rougher as I’ve gotten older, but I’ll still clock back in after a while.” She shot another look at the girl with a flat expression. “And before you ask? Yeah, the Owl Beast is tough enough to tank some nasty weather for a bit. You’d be surprised what kindsa stuff demons are pretty resistant to around here.”

“Huh.” The mage muttered, rubbing her bandaged arm bashfully with the other hand. “Well. That’s good to know.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Eda gently clapped her hands to Luz’s shoulders, gifting her with a small, genuine smile.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate you sticking your neck out for me, kiddo. I just don’t want you getting roughed up all because of me.”

The witch had to give an exaggerated groan as she was wrapped in another warm embrace, but made no move to break away a second time.

They spent a short while speaking quietly about less stressful topics, making comfortable back and forth small talk as the last of the house’s meagre food stores were depleted for a shared late-night meal. Someone was going to make a much-needed grocery run the following day – maybe Eda could manage browbeating King into doing it for her…

Following their cobbled together midnight snack, it wasn’t long before Eda and Luz decided to fully retire for the evening, with the girl offering a departing wave as she fought back a handful of yawns. The Owl Lady, meanwhile, was left to salvage what she could from the debris of her room, reaffixing the door and tossing out scraps of destroyed items with a flick of her wrist, the delectable sensation of cool blue mana swirling up her arms.

Her enjoyment of wielding such potent magic was muted by the ruination of her personal chambers – and locating the annihilated walls and piping described to her earlier only hammered that sense of unamused exhaustion home. She spent some of her small, precious reserves of bile to fix the greatest damages, leaving the detail work to Hooty’s organic regrowth over time as she returned to her much less cluttered room.

Even after everything that she’d experienced for the day, both consciously and otherwise, Eda spent several long hours tossing and turning restlessly, her wide eyes tracing the path of the rafters and the odd bit of claw marks that marred their length.

She didn’t want to dwell on her own feelings, not when she was so tired.

Not when things had become so new and different and frightening, so quickly.

It was almost unbelievable how fast things had seemed to shift, following Luz’s arrival at the Owl House. The witch would never have expected just how… alive everything felt, simply from adding a new voice to the bunch on a daily basis.

Eda would admit (under duress) that she enjoyed Hooty and King’s presences in her home, at least to some degree. As she had stated to herself more than once as of late, the Owl Lady was a bigger softy than she’d ever let someone like her sister know. Of course, Lily was a smart cookie – she’d probably long since parsed that out, after seeing the little flock of troublesome gremlins she kept around.

Willow Park was a good kid, same as her buddy Gus Porter – both of them were studious learners, helpful saps willing to stick their necks out for a wanted woman, and most importantly: knew when to keep their mouths shut about the crap they all got up to. King was funnier to keep around than she’d ever openly acknowledge, and Eda had little desire to leave any of the bunch kicked to the curb with nowhere to go. Even Hooty had his moments – when the damned house demon stopped rambling on about his obsession with eating bugs and possibly coven witches, he was actually good for some conversation.

And Luz…

The mage was intelligent, perceptive, quick on her feet for the most part. She was full of surprises and tricks, that one – even after a month or so of living together, the kid was still pulling off stunts that had Eda pausing in surprise. She had her little ticks, just like the rest of them, but she was just so damn endearing to have around.

She reminded the Owl Lady of herself, somewhat, in her younger years. There were plenty of differences, too – the perpetually sunny attitude, the way she made sure to chat with Hooty and King every day, including them in their games and shows. How she didn’t have to be badgered into doing chores around the house, just picking things up as she went and handling them without a fuss.

But while her own unique little quirks of character made Luz an enjoyable fit with the Owl House, Eda would admit they weren’t the only things that caught her eye here and there.

Like how the girl didn’t spread into the space she’d been given – everything packed and organized neatly in her bulging backpack at all times. Always ready to move – always ready to run. The way she would sometimes startle when presented with her own little kindnesses in return, a strange look in her eye at the gesture as she accepted it with a relieved smile.

The strength in magic, the smarts to back it up. Coming from a broken home. Most of her friends seemingly long gone, or worse. Nowhere to go and nobody to turn to.

Except Eda, and their little menagerie at the Owl House.

It was almost enough to turn the Owl Lady’s stomach when she looked at the mage and saw her own fears and flaws reflected in the girl’s shining eyes.

So the kid stayed, and Eda cleaned up her act a bit. In exchange, she received a gateway into new, and powerful magics. Another set of hands to help around the house and keep it from falling down around their ears. Somebody who could keep the boys wrangled on a good day, and let the witch do her business in peace.

…Somebody who saw Eda for what she was, who she was, and didn’t turn their back on her. A person that gave warm embraces and brilliant smiles and didn’t cast her aside for being broken in a way she couldn’t control.

How many years had it been, before Luz, that someone had simply hugged the Owl Lady with care in their heart?

Eda had long since lost track.

She stared at the frayed wall of her nest, her mind far and away from her surroundings. The gentle chirp of nocturnal insects filled the air through her open window, as they did almost every night, while the Owl Lady let herself finally ask a question she had always dreaded and yearned for over the course of lengthy, lonely years.

Was this what it felt like to have a family again?

Eda the Owl Lady hoped it was – but she’d been alone for a long, lone time. It was difficult to tell.

And then there was the kid asking about Earth, a hopeful little glint in her gaze when she brought up the possibility of seeing it again, of traveling there…

Of leaving the Owl House behind.

She squeezed her eyes shut, rolling over her bedding in agitation.

The witch had promised to show the girl how she got her goods for sale, which included… the portal. But – there were other ways to accumulate human salvage that she used. Trash slugs, combing the beaches themselves, hunting through local scrap piles…

Eda would – take her to the slugs, first. They were relatively easy to source. One of their stinking, bloated carcasses was bound to wash ashore soon, if it hadn’t already. The two of them would go down the list, she’d show off some of the Isles’ wonders to the mage, they’d have a good time.

And they’d get around to the portal connected to the Human Realm… eventually. Later, after the other items.

Definitely.

The witch let a small sigh slip past her lips as she mentally took the reins of her life’s course once more, and let the blessed tides of sleep lull her into rest.

She couldn’t stop the growl of irritation that had her baring her teeth at the stack of mutinous parchment before her, glaring back with the apathetic disdain of a truly aggravating inanimate object.

Amity Blight loathed the multiple layers of after-action reports following noteworthy missions more than anything else she had ever encountered. And there were a great many things on the Boiling Isles that she found disagreeable, to say the least.

Begrudgingly, the law witch shuffled through the stack of forms, fishing out the next in the set to scribble through as fast she could while still maintaining a basic level of legibility with her handwriting. Every other report she’d ever written was always delivered with immaculate penmanship. Perhaps the utter lack of such for these particular pieces would convince Lilith she truly had no time for such extemporaneous, tedious garbage –

“Apprentice Amity Blight. My office. Now.”

The witch flinched at the steely tone, eyes glued to her blasted forms as she gave a slow, subservient nod to the demand, sweat trickling down her neck in sudden dread. Evidently, Miss Clawthorne was psychic, and thinking poorly of her reporting procedures was grounds for admonishment. She’d remember that for the future.

Amity stiffly left her personal corner of the coven gathering chambers, feeling the vicious vindication of her fellows at her back as she went. The young witch was well aware of their simmering resentment towards her for the attention lavished upon the girl by their superior officer. Lilith Clawthorne may not flaunt her favorites directly in front of her colleagues, but it was more than obvious who curried her favor and who did not in their shared space within the Emperor’s castle.

Hearing what seemed to be a hint of an incoming dressing-down likely excited some of the dullards that Amity was forced to work with. A shame that their incompetence outshone the achievements of the department’s more reliable members, but it was an inevitable outcome of such a work environment, in spite of their careful hiring process.

The young Blight shut the aged wooden door softly behind her as she stepped into the officious space of Miss Clawthorne, the shear bullheaded level of cleanliness and organization outstripping even her own stringent standards. Her eyes flickered towards the walls when a brief wave of spellwork swept over the stones, muffling the distant murmur of activity as the office became insulated against prying ears. The dark-haired witch in question was sat behind her desk, a cool look of professional disinterest adorning her features as she gestured towards the available seat before her personal furniture.

“Thank you for coming with such haste, Miss Blight.” Amity had to restrain the urge to wince. That tone of voice was reserved for when Lilith was angry enough to have surpassed agitation, and had moved straight into icy scheming. “Take a seat. We must discuss your report.”

The witch did as she was ordered, clearing her throat weakly and folding her hands primly within her lap.

“My report, Miss Clawthorne?” She didn’t let her words crackle with nerves, but it was a near thing. “May I ask what was wrong with it?”

“Oh, the official report heading to the Emperor was nicely done, as per usual.” The falsely conversational voice set Amity’s mind on edge. “No, no that’s not what I have a problem with…”

The witch flicked the water-stained copy of the document out before her, its edge unfurling with a flash of fizzling enchantment as the remainder of the report was revealed.

“I took issue with the full description you provided, in the ciphered code I taught you for delicate information regarding – particular items.”

The pale woman’s hands slammed flat onto the carved wood of her desk, making the younger witch cringe away at the sight.

“Chiefly, I was questioning just when and where you let leave of your senses for what seems a full day.” Her scathing sarcasm burst through the tightly held self-control, boiling over into an incredulous statement of fact.

“I-I can explain, Miss Clawthorne…” Amity tried weakly, but Lilith was brokering no argument.

“Let me see if I can summarize your writings accurately.” The coven leader’s words thundered over the girl’s protest. “Not only did you fail to disengage from potentially dangerous criminals at the possibility of serious inclement weather – which you should have known to do – you also engaged my sister, in her incredibly dangerous cursed form, in combat alongside her associate. And then, you admitted to not adhering to full legal procedures to a group of wanted criminals with a personal vendetta against both myself, and our department.”

The witch stood from her desk, disbelieving fury crossing her face as Amity shrunk into her chair.

“And then. Beyond all of that. You made a promise with a known criminal to learn potentially illegal and disastrous magics, without my knowledge or say-so, and implicated both of us in what can be effectively described as taking a bribe.” The officer’s shoulders were heaving with the force of her frustration, even as she dropped back into her chair with a snarl of aggravation, clapping both of her palms to her face while she leaned back into the upholstery of her padded seat.

Lilith’s fingers slid apart, revealing one narrowed eye to her cowering apprentice as she spoke up once again, her tone much more restrained but no less aggrieved.

“I would ask what possessed you to do such moronic things, but I already know.” Amity couldn’t meet her eyes. “You wanted to learn that girl’s odd spells. Gather more power. Widen your skills.” Her words felt like a sentencing.

“It wasn’t just… personal growth, ma’am.” The witch’s voice croaked with her response. “I – I wanted to learn what she knew, so we could use it to serve the coven better. Both of us. I know that… you’re always looking to learn stronger spells.” Her hands made a vague, grasping motion. “I just – thought that you would want to know. To learn something powerful and new.”

The older witch didn’t reply, turning to the side with an unimpressed huff as she glared into her bookshelves. The younger woman eyed her for a moment, before adding to her defense in a lower, firmer tone.

“Something that powerful could probably do all sorts of things. Maybe even… provide you a breakthrough in removing your sister’s curse.” Lilith’s head swiveled back towards her, eyes wide and furious for a moment, before the anger fled her form and left the pale witch slumped in her seat.

Miss Clawthorne directed a tired, affirmative nod at the girl.

“I suppose I am somewhat transparent in that regard, aren’t I.” Amity kept her mouth carefully shut. “You are aware that the Emperor has promised to cure Edalyn if I bring her to him in chains.”

It wasn’t a question. She nodded her head anyway.

Lilith’s following statement was much more damning than the last.

“You know I do not trust Emperor Belos to do so.”

Amity gave another tilt of her skull, more hesitantly than the first. Her employer snorted mirthlessly.

“Good. Then we are on the same page, it seems.” Lilith straightened in her seat, thumbing through the clipped pages of her apprentice’s collected report once more. “I trust that you will keep such opinions discreet – just as I will ensure that our lord only sees the… curated copies of this transcript.”

“Yes, ma’am. Of course.” Her answer was earnest and hopeful, a plea for clemency from Lilith Clawthorne’s anger. “You know I wouldn’t let such – sensitive information slip.”

“Are you so sure?” The witch waved the incriminating slip of paper towards her employee, one eyebrow raised as she questioned the girl sardonically. “Your efforts at the Owl House as of late speak otherwise, I’d say.”

Amity’s shoulders hunched inwards at the scolding, her eyes flicking to the floor in burgeoning shame.

“…You’ve always taught me to take initiative. Be ambitious.” Her reply came out as wounded whisper. “To – use my skills and best others where they failed. It’s… I…”

The young witch jerked as slim arms enfolded her, Lilith’s chin pressing into the girl’s green curls. She felt more than heard the older woman’s exhausted sigh.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Amity.” Her mentor’s voice escaped in a low murmur. “I want you to have a long and fruitful career, so that you can take my place someday and be the witch that the Isles needs to reign in all of the… rampant disorder and insanity. And you can’t do that if you find your way to an early grave, because you don’t know when to hedge your bets.”

Amity leaned forwards into the embrace, slowly wrapping her arms around the older witch.

It felt like it should bother her that Lilith Clawthorne far outpaced Odalia Blight in being a mother figure to her.

But it didn’t. Not really. Not after nineteen long years under the matriarch of House Blight’s thumb.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“It’s alright. But please, next time…” Lilith pulled back, resting her hands on the girl’s petite shoulders. “Be more careful. Think these things through. For me.”

“Okay. I will.”

“Good.” The older witch granted her a small smile that tugged at the stress lines beneath her eyes. “Now. Returning to the topic of your report…”

Lilith riffled through her collection of documents that littered her desk, pulling out a thick binder with a victorious hum as she turned back to her underling.

“I’ll need to see a copy of your schedule for the next month. We’ll have to pick out several potential days for an extended trip outside the castle grounds.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am?” Her confusion was mounting. “Where will we be working beyond the castle?”

“Well, we certainly can’t have those magic lessons with your new acquaintance inside the department.” Lilith answered tartly, giving her half a smirk at the look of shock crossing her features. “You did make a promise to Miss Noceda, after all. And I’m certain that it will tweak my sister’s nose to have her little companion be teaching her mortal enemies how to wield such potent magics.”

Miss Clawthorne turned away with a thoughtful expression, her playful demeanor falling a bit as something occurred to her.

“It seems I shall have to… apologize to the human for being so deriding at our previous encounter.” She ground the heel of her palm into her forehead, groaning irritably. “It pains me to admit to having underestimated the girl. I should have known better before taking such an inane attitude with her that my poor luck would come back with a vengeance. Speaking about my sister simply riles me up so thoroughly…”

“Ah, so. M-My schedule, ma’am?” Amity stuttered, pulling their conversation back on track.

“Yes. Get the most up to date listing you have, and bring it to my desk tomorrow morning. We will discuss the most fitting time for our, ahem, ‘training event’ at some point in the near future.” Her eyes lit up with a hint of mischief. “Perhaps we’ll use one of the disposable scrolls we keep lying around to contact Edalyn. I’m certain the knowledge that I could call her anytime will be sure to drive her up the wall…”

“I’ll be certain to do so, Miss Clawthorne.” Amity stood with a salute, her expression relaxing in the face of her mentor’s joviality. “If that’s all for this meeting?”

“Yes, yes, of course. You are dismissed.” The older woman gave a wave of her hand, gazing down at the calendar in her grasp. “Return to your after-action reports. I shall consider them punishment enough for your stunts yesterday.”

“Ugh.” She had almost forgotten, for a few lovely moments. “As you say, ma’am.”

Amity Blight left the office with her head held high, silently relishing the bewildered looks of her vengeful coworkers with her usual impenetrable confidence, heart lightened by the tender care of her mentor.

Lilith Clawthorne spent several long, silent moments standing at her desk, ensuring that her apprentice would not immediately return with any remaining concerns before locking the door with a quick twist or her fingers. The spell circle sparked merrily as the tumblers turned, her field of silence stretching back into place upon the magic’s resolution.

She allowed herself to sag in exhaustion in the privacy of her own office, scrubbing at her eyes with a frustrated buzz of energy as she gave a low, ringing groan at the thought of the conversation she had just held. Evidently, she should have been more specific when instructing her intern on how to exercise her own judgement in the field.

Regardless of how poorly considered her actions were, however, Lilith was not one to waste an opportunity that had fallen so freely into her lap.

It took but a moment to examine her spellwork encapsulating the walls and floors, a critical eye running over the faint shimmer of the silencing enchantment that she had woven into the stones for more… sensitive meetings, such as the one she had just held. There was no doubt the Emperor was aware of her efforts, but he had made no overt move against her for such an action. Thus, she felt confident that she and Amity’s conversation had gone unnoticed.

Perhaps, while she held the excuse of keeping the spell engaged, Lilith could do some review.

Her immaculate nails tapped a complicated, zig-zagging pattern of sharp presses against the sleek wood of her closest bookshelf. She had long since memorized the motions out of necessity.

A glowing line of sparking magic sprung across the side panel of the furniture in question, ripping open a tear into her personal storage compartment she had connected to the family vault, in her old stomping grounds back home some distance from her lord’s domain. The witch reached in, feeling past the dusty figures of random heirlooms and valuables as she sought one particular form.

The scuffed leather of the tome she withdrew was free of the detritus that accumulated naturally in the enclosed space, only its own scars marking the cover. The bindings and pages were horrifically stained at the edges, so very close to destroying the text’s legibility, fingers of liquid and soot tearing across the firm spine of the book. It still stank of seared wood and flesh, pages imbibed with the horrid scent –

- Of a grand mansion splintering under its own collapsing weight, the crawl of hungry flames consuming its grand walls and windows as the ancient structure groaned like a dying beast.

Lilith Clawthorne couldn’t tear her eyes from the spectacle. It was like watching any other disaster – horrible and enrapturing, all at once. Years of history and wealth and memories, set ablaze and left to die as powers greater than its owner deemed their holdings worth less than the dirt beneath their feet.

She couldn’t look away. She wouldn’t. If Lilith stared at the crumbling façade and melting windows long enough, maybe she could put the screams of their bereaved prisoners from her mind.

The witch had to remind herself that the Emperor’s justice was never meant to be beautiful, or glorifying. It was hard and dirty work containing the chaos of the Boiling Isles. And when even the old bloodlines like these refused his tenants – remaining as untamed, callous wild witches – then sometimes that justice would be brought the fore with the utmost prejudice.

That’s what she told herself over and over as the wails of terrified children and babes split the air, their horrified parents huddled together in miserable clumps within the prison wagons.

The coven had left the family’s belongings strewn about the property, scattered and torn in careless heaps that were set aflame without second thought. Smoldering piles of furniture and clothing, the trappings of ruined wealth as proof of these people’s craven crimes.

One mound was dedicated solely to the contents of their expansive library. Priceless tomes and common leaflets burned all the same, deemed heretical and dangerous by the detachment’s leaders as they ransacked the home.

Lilith couldn’t help drifting closer to the pile, her eyes running over countless crackling texts and scorched volumes that tumbled from the group, left carelessly to rot. Examples of dark and powerful magics, her colleagues had said. Nothing for any rightminded citizen to consider worth their time – or their life, if caught harboring them.

Yet she couldn’t help the choked gasp that escaped her as her bespectacled eyes landed upon one tome in particular, fervently scooping it up as she checked that none of her coworkers had seen the action. Its embossed title sparkled in the roaring fire light, the name that had caught her eye in passing and piqued Lilith’s interest.

She ran a thumb over the marred cover of the item, brow furrowing at the oddly named copy of “Cursebreakers of Old Thraben.”

The title was unfamiliar to Lilith – but the subject was of much greater intrigue. Standing there, in the shadow of a destroyed lineage, she faced a considerable gamble. She had sold her life – her very soul – to the Emperor’s Coven.

If she succeeded, if she could become the coven’s head, the girl may even catch the ear of the Emperor himself. The strongest witch alive – possibly the only one who could heal her sister.

And yet the answer to her greatest desire, her gnawing guilt, could very well lay right before her.

She had not gotten this far by playing safely, or fairly.

The answer was obvious.

Lilith returned to the caravan without another word, her face carefully blank as she took a seat in their transport wagon, the precious find tucked snugly against the small of her back. When she returned to the castle, the witch would have to find an appropriate hiding spot –

- Lest the coven discover her indiscretions.

The pale witch shook herself from the recollection, taking a seat at her desk once more as she carefully cracked the damaged title open, skimming an immaculate nail down the index as she sought the last chapter previously covered.

That horrid night had been the first time Lilith Clawthorne had questioned her loyalty to a system that she had bought entry into with her sister’s very health. It had not been the last by far.

The contents of the ancient grimoire had been indecipherable once, speaking of unknown cities and strange magics. Circle-less spells? Feeling the land, using magic in the air to bring one’s will into being?

Preposterous, or so the witch had assumed for years – until an incredible report from her most trusted underling passed her desk, describing a human of all people weaving powerful spells together as if she’d been doing it all her life. No circles or bile sac utilized.

Perhaps it would be better to start from the beginning, refresh her understanding of the book’s full contents. There was no guarantee that Luz Noceda would give Lilith what she sought – but it was better to be prepared, than not at all.

Lilith leaned back in her softly upholstered chair, letting her attention to the outside world slide away as she buried herself in learning of arcane and endangering wild magics.

The text read as she knew it would, waxing poetic about the grand bravery of men and women who had dedicated themselves to combatting evil wherever it may be found in the world.

Almost like a childhood fairytale.

To be a cursebreaker is to answer the grandest calling. It is to pledge oneself against the monsters that stalk our people, that tear away at order and leave only ruin in their wake.

Belonging to this prestigious group is to feel the glorious sunlight at your back, the winding winds across the plains and fields of our world, and know in your heart the cycle of life itself…

Chapter 14

Chapter Text

In the wake of the Owl House’s monstrous upheaval at the hands of the Owl Lady’s affliction, the status quo of its inhabitants slowly trickled back in over the course of another week.

The majority of structural damages caused to Hooty’s interior required only simple resolutions, with the vast skill set of the home’s owner coming into play quite often to patch the holes that the house demon could not manually heal. Luz found herself in charge of providing assistance where necessary as Eda magicked swathes of unmarked drywall and stretches of gleaming pipework into place, the young mage carefully tracking all of the methods her host utilized to correct the destruction to her household with noted interest.

Unfortunately, for all their shared skill in various forms of spellcasting, neither Luz nor Eda could fully replace or repair the damaged portions of the witch’s bedchambers. For the most part, there was little of immediate value lost – the older woman’s hoarded spoils were scattered around the house, with most of the bedroom taken up by miscellaneous finds and comfort items. The ruination of the space, however, left little besides her nest still standing, giving Eda very limited options for further storage or resting without her former furniture.

As a temporary solution to her conundrum, the pale witch roped Luz into trawling the depths of the basem*nt for any makeshift replacements until they could find the time – and funds – to replace what was lost.

With the assistance of numerous glow globes, and no threat of attack distracting her, the planeswalker was left to give the underground storage chamber a more thorough inspection as she and her host dragged aging units of dusty chairs and shelves into the light of day for cleansing. For the most part, there was little stock of genuine interest to Luz – many of Eda’s accumulated articles were random bits and bobs the woman intended to haul out for sale at some point, that had been relegated to storage for one reason or another. Beyond that, improper sealing had left vermin to nest in a portion of the items, necessitating even further repair and cleaning to leave any of the goods viable for distribution.

In spite of the overall mundanity of the basem*nt collection, the young girl did manage to unearth a handful of finds that caught her eye. To Luz’s mild surprise and delight, Eda had managed to gather a notable collection of human clothing and accessories that had remained mostly untouched by the passage of time, and not only that, but some of it even fit her. The witch had no issues letting her pull a handful of more traditional outfits from the depths of the Owl House, several pairs of jeans and shorts going into her personal collection alongside a few more casual articles of shirts she found to her liking. It had been years since Luz had ruined and outgrown the clothes she’d left home with, and the feeling of the thick, pockmarked material of Earthly denim between her fingers made a bubble of nostalgia well up in her chest. Something must have shown in her expression, because the Owl Lady handed them over with little fuss, promising to put them through the wash sometime shortly.

“You might as well pull some more spares outta the pile, kid. You’re gonna need them for our next outing.”

Or perhaps the witch was simply good at planning ahead for further shenanigans. Whatever the case, the mage appreciated the additions to her wardrobe.

Eda refused to elaborate on what she was planning for the weekend once her apprentice and company returned, but gave sly smirks and vague allusions to a messy but profitable venture. Luz remained fairly unimpressed by her wordplay – the last time her companion had been playing coy, the planeswalker had been suddenly roped into working the market stand with little warning or support.

Admittedly, that venture had turned out less than painful. A sinking feeling in Luz’s stomach told her that if the witch said she needed extra clothes, things were likely to be significantly more disgusting than last time.

The prompt arrival of Gus and Willow the following weekend only reinforced the niggling concern, seeing their trepidatious expressions and short-sleeved outfits composed of older, more worn articles. The pair of witches were more than willing to offer Luz a cheerful greeting, but they seemed awfully resigned to whatever Eda had told them they would be doing for the day.

The trio convened at the kitchen island, putting away a light breakfast offering as they made small talk while the Owl Lady was left to scrabble through the basem*nt for the tools she had mentioned requiring.

“So, should I assume this is going to be bad?” Luz asked slowly, spooning a mouthful of soggy cereal past her lips as she gave her defeated-looking companions a concerned glance. “Because I’m getting serious funeral vibes from you guys for today. It’s not even noon yet.”

Gus flapped a hand dismissively, painting an insincere smile on his face even as he gestured limply with his tarnished silverware.

“Ah, don’t worry about us. Doing chores for Eda just drags a bit, y’know? Today’s job is not as bad as you’re expecting, I promise.”

“Yeah, it’s probably way worse.” Willow commented, returning Gus’ affronted look with an unamused glare of her own. “Listen, you two know I adore Eda. But when has anything she has us doing for her business been totally…” She rolled her wrist in encouragement as her words faltered, brow furrowing in consternation.

“Legal? Hygienic?”

“Properly supervised, like, at all?”

“…Yeah, all of those, actually.” The plant witch blinked in surprise, before turning away from the table as one hand rubbed her chin in growing thought. “Can you unionize an apprenticeship? Because I’m starting to think we should be a bit more weirded out by this kind of stuff…”

Any further considerations regarding worker’s compensation were set aside as one of their host’s heeled boots slammed the shoddy wooden basem*nt door open with a crash, revealing the pale witch as she heaved an armload of tools out of the Owl House’s depths.

“Found my junk!” She announced loudly, a proud grin on her lips as she dropped the collection of items to the floor with a tremendous clatter. “It’s been a while since we’ve had one of these bad boys to take care of, so this stuff was all shoved in the back behind some other crap.”

Luz couldn’t resist leaning over the edge of the table, her curiosity spiking as she surveyed the scattered assortment of mundane shovels, picks, and shears littering the floorboards.

“Eda.” The mage valiantly attempted to keep the dread and exasperation out of her voice, and sadly lost to her growing trepidation. “Please don’t tell me we’re digging a well or going grave robbing. Because I am having a really hard time figuring out what this stuff is for, otherwise.”

There was a suspicious lack of rebuttals from her friends that left Luz looking back up from the floor with wide eyes.

“Why did nobody refute that. Guys, we’re not actually digging up dead people, right?”

“No, no, no, kid. No witch cemeteries for today’s agenda.” The Owl Lady waved a hand flippantly, even as the planeswalker mouthed ‘Just today?’ to herself in horror. “You’re not totally off the mark, though. We…” The older woman scooped the tools up once more, a look of avaricious delight in her eyes. “Are going to the beach!”

Luz’s eyes flicked back to her seated companions, noting that their expectant, but unsurprised, expressions as they waited for Eda to get to the point.

“Okay. And what’s at the beach that we need tools to dig and cut with?” There was no way this was ending well for anybody.

“That, my dear uninformed human, is a surprise for when we get there. You won’t be disappointed, I promise!”

The girl could only roll her eyes at the exaggeration, turning back to the younger pair of witches as she scooped up her empty plate.

“Well, I’m ready to go when you guys are. Let’s go figure out what today’s big adventure at the beach is.”

The remainder of the Owl House occupants finished their meals in short order, the kitchenware left to soak in the filled sink as they gathered their selected bags and provisions from around the living room. Upon inspection, Luz opted to leave her staff in the stuffy attic room, seeing as she was needed to help carry some of the retrieved tools alongside the others. As a last-minute addition, the Owl Lady snagged a groggy King of Demons on the way by the couch, dragging him out the door as they left in spite of his whining protests regarding missing sleep and, more importantly, breakfast. The mage took pity on the diminutive creature, slipping him some of the granola and water she’d packed for the day as they set off for the distant shores of the Boiling Isles.

“Hoot hoot, have fun at the shore!” Hooty called merrily at their retreating forms, nestled in the wooden planks of the door. “Try not to get too gross!”

Luz did not enjoy the undertone of malicious glee in the house demon’s voice as they left the Owl House property line behind.

The path they took towards the shoreline below wound itself through the thick woodlands concealing Eda’s homestead, the dappled light of late morning streaming between twisting trunks and rustling leaves. Once the party had crested the gentle slope of the first hill, the Owl Lady took an abrupt turn at the head of the pack into a narrow dirt lane, leading them confidently forward into the relative unknown while the five wannabe adventurers tromped through the forest. The road swirled lazily around ancient roots and rocky outcroppings, descending downwards at a slight angle as the bones and soil of the Titan fell towards the raging seas lapping at its limbs.

It wasn’t long before the mage and her companions had travelled down a mellow slope for a fair distance, harsh crags of the cliff face melting into the ocean’s depths. They broke through the thinning tree line only a handful of meters from crashing waves splashing onto a well-worn stretch of beach, crystalline blue waters expanding out as far as the eye could see to their approximate west.

Even with the water heaving and hissing under the weight of its frantic, burning energy, the sight struck a chord in Luz’s chest that had a small smile spilling onto her face. In that moment, she could almost imagine she was once more on Earth with her mother, digging exposed toes into the soft sand and gentle surf as she ran down the length of the Atlantic shore, laughing with the delight only a child could hold. The mage took in a deep breath, the scents of the seaside filtering into her nostrils. The omnipresent smell of coarse salt, blasted rock, and –

Rot. A lot of rot.

She couldn’t resist gagging at the stench, covering her mouth desperately even as her gorge rose to the back of her throat. Oh, Dios Bueno, was it foul. The hovering stench was intense enough to leave her eyes watering, her companions giving Luz a sympathetic set of looks as they cautiously breathed through their open mouths.

“W-What the hell is that?” The mage managed to choke out, as she continued smothering her nose in an attempt to drown out the assault on her senses. “Did a whale wash up and die around here?”

A clawed hand gave her a pitying pat on the shoulder as Eda stepped into her blurred field of vision.

“Not quite, kiddo.” She could barely make out the witch performing a circular gesture with her hand, the faint crackle of a spell circle fizzing into existence – and then she could breathe again without holding back vomit, a faint tickle of shifting air surrounding her mouth and sensitive nose as the magic finalized. Luz gasped in relief, bent over at the waist as she fought to catch her breath once more.

The older woman repeated the spell for herself and the others, each of them greedily taking in purified air after the enchantment was put into place to shield them from whatever rotting horrors awaited them on the beach. In that time, the planeswalker had finally calmed her heaving chest, and she joined them in staring at the disintegrating form of their ‘bounty’ in mixed disgust and concern.

“This, Luz Noceda…” The Owl Lady went undeterred by their collective stares of dejection. “Is one of the most profitable native fauna on the Boiling Isles!” She threw her arms out in celebration. “An adult trash slug!”

The pile of melting ooze before them did not inspire within the mage any sort of confidence or satisfaction in the least. The closest comparison she had for the sight were the titanic boneyards of the Gruul’s wurms on the fringes of Ravnican society, where the immense creatures travelled in their advanced age to die amongst the remains of their ancestors. This ‘trash slug,’ however, held none of the savage grace or solemnity in death that the warrior-beasts of distant tribal clans could lay claim to. It was a bloated, fetid thing the size of a house, swollen with unnatural girth and laying limp upon the sands. A puke green hide riddled with cuts and burns swaddled the enormous stinking carcass, leading to a gaping maw from which fell…

Wait. Was that human garbage?

How, and more importantly, why?

Eda appeared to parse out the question in Luz’s eyes, even amongst her expression of open revulsion, as she launched into a dialogue when they drew hesitantly closer to the massive corpse.

“Trash slugs are omnivorous, and have strong enough acid in their guts to melt through all sortsa different kinds of food.” The witch explained, hoisting a pickaxe over her shoulder with a gleam in her eye as she examined the carcass. “In spite of that, these nasty things pick up a lotta random crap that they can’t actually chew or melt through in their bellies. Especially human junk, seeing as you like using metal and those weird ‘plastics’ so much.”

“But…” She tried weakly protesting the insanity that was Boiling Isles lifeforms. “Where are they getting all of this stuff? It looks like this slug lived its whole life in a landfill somewhere.”

“Well now, that’s the question, isn’t it?” The older woman gave her an almost manic grin, lifting the pick high over her shoulder – and cleaving through the blubbery flesh of the body, letting a spill of slimy guts and goods slip out onto the beach, in spite of Luz’s yell of disgust.

“Dig in, kids! Plenty of slug and junk for everybody.”

The mage turned to her other friends in desperate search of support – only to find the two witches and stocky demon gazing at the swollen cadaver with resigned disgust in their eyes. She could only let out a groan of despair when Willow handed off one of their aging tools, patting her shoulder in solidarity as they moved in to hack apart their bounty for scrap.

The Owl Lady continued her diatribe unhindered, any lingering distress at their actions smothered beneath her desire for gleaming coin.

“We don’t know a whole lot about how trash slugs get around in the Boiling Seas.” She grunted with exertion as a handful of oozing metal was dislodged in a tumble, examining the slick puddle with a critical eye. “Witches mostly find them after they’ve croaked on a beach somewhere, and the only bits that don’t fall apart easily are the things they eat. So, we don’t really know if they’ve got much magic in ‘em.”

Luz thoroughly regretted not bringing her staff along for their journey. Had she known what was in store, it would have been a definite inclusion in their kit, as she would be able to grow vines from its ends and use them as a makeshift grapple to pull salvage from the trash slug without direct contact. Unfortunately, her caution had come back around to bite her, and the mage was forced to manhandle the slippery folds of meat as her blade carved through its flesh with little resistance.

“Which means…” Eda forged onwards in her explanation, even as she used the side of her boot to kick metallic bits back and forth across the sand. “That there’s two main options: either there’s portals somewhere under the sea that all this crud comes floatin’ in through, or the slugs can make their own kinda path to get back and forth from here to the Human Realm.”

The planeswalker’s nose wrinkled in disgust as the sharp edge of her shovel sliced open another stretch of filled belly, letting out a load of garbage onto the beach while she turned her host’s words over in her mind. After a moment, she turned to see how Willow and Gus were doing with their own efforts, finding them working in tandem with King’s diminutive form as they cooperated in gutting the foul creature and leaving him to sort their finds.

The mage planted her shovel in the soil, leaning on the handle as she gazed intently at Eda.

“Is that something common around here – natural portals to Earth, that is?” That was an important distinction implied by the woman’s prior statements.

Her meager burst of hope faded away as the Owl Lady gave a short shake of her head, mane swinging to and fro.

“Not really, no.” Eda crouched in the coarse sands, tossing miscellaneous items back and forth as she parsed through her personal load of garbage. “It’s not unheard of, but stuff like that is pretty inconsistent, at best. And if there is that kind of hole between worlds under the sea, it raises a lotta questions about the logistics of the whole thing, y’know?” She stood, dusting her hands off and retrieving the discarded axe. “It’s more likely that the sluggies have some way to get there on their own. But there’s no guarantee.”

Luz could only nod along despondently as she considered the argument, returning to her work with a short sigh while the sun crept slowly through the sky above.

The work to butcher their trash slug was lengthy, tiresome, and wholly foul from start to finish. Their target was actively disintegrating into a sloppy ooze even as they worked, thankfully limiting exposure to any true segments of viscera from the bloated body. Every so often, somebody’s axe would cleave into another pocket of precious human waste products hidden within the worm’s fatty folds, and they would break from their physical exertion to sort through the revealed scrap. Things became a tad less disgusting, and slightly more productive overall, once Luz began funneling tendrils of steaming liquid from the lapping shoreside waves into cleaning the gunk from the group’s finds.

When the sun struck its zenith for the day, they broke for a short lunch, sheltering beneath the fringes of the adjacent woodlands for blessed shade once everyone scoured the gore from their hands and paws with the assistance of the planeswalker’s hydromancy. She could already feel her stamina flagging from their prior efforts, the ceaseless toil to unveil more valuables squirrelled away within the trash slug’s depths wearing at even her own boundless reserves of energy.

Luz’s increasing desire to doze underneath the skeletal branches of the local trees was likely only compounded by the myriad cuts and burns still healing across her body. Eda had offered some further medical assistance for the mage’s injuries after their encounter with the woman’s cursed form, but there was only so much those potions could do without approaching an overdose, seeing as she sat somewhere uncomfortably between having minor and major wounds that the Owl Lady’s spellwork struggled to compensate for.

The pale witch had apparently noticed her ongoing difficulties with keeping up at the grueling work, prompting her to swat Luz’s shoulder to grab her attention as they polished off the last bites of their meal.

“You’re still looking a little under the weather after last week’s clobbering, kid. Why don’t you stick to washing out the goo from what we dig up, maybe help sort out some of this crap since you probably know what it does?”

She was more than happy to agree, prompting her to put a bit more pep in her step as the five returned to work once more.

Ultimately, there was little of true material value that they uncovered over the course of the day, as Luz had drearily predicted that morning. There were too many degrading factors affecting the Owl Lady’s potential haul, from acid and salt water to simply what kinds of items would end up available for the average trash slug to locate, and promptly consume. At best, her companions had unearthed a large supply of salvageable metals and some hardy pieces of technology beneath the piles of true garbage.

The planeswalker had questioned Eda’s tenacious pursuit of electronics and scrap metal, especially seeing as most specimens they had found within the creature’s spilled guts to be almost completely ruined. In turn, the older woman had demonstrated an impressive sense for scavenging and scraping profits from refuse, commenting on the notable value of the various metals utilized in human construction. Many such examples could be recycled into pricey components for alchemical and enchanting trades, or even repurposed into more local instances of tools and weapons. Evidently, while metallurgy on the Boiling Isles was comparable to the modern equivalent of Earth’s chemical understandings, the limitations of a relatively small and partially artificial landmass meant that it was not incredibly easy for witches to procure rare and valuable minerals – though they could be magically transmuted at times. To that end, scrap steel and copper could find their home in the sprawling markets of Bonesborough and beyond. It simply sweetened the deal if Eda could pawn off her finds in larger quantities, even if most folks expected a bulk discount in such instances.

Not for the first time did the Owl Lady’s grasp of applied pragmatism stand out to Luz as they conversed. The pale witch seemed to bask in the image of untamed power and a certain aggressive arrogance – yet given the opportunity, she would gladly go on about her understandings of local economics or varying magical theories and experiments as they took the decaying corpse of an enormous worm apart. Eda seemed determined to bury any true comprehension of her character beneath a casual veneer of bluster to the average eye, only letting her enjoyment of learning magics and plying her trade slip through in the presence of friends.

Had it been only days before, Luz may not have caught on to the deception. But the witch’s curse had ripped open more wounds than just the obvious. The way Eda’s expression flattened out into bleak acceptance, talking about the isolation that followed her first transformation as a child; the way fear clouded her eyes when the mage told her how she had tried reaching past the enchantment’s effects on her mind.

It struck Luz that Eda Clawthorne was a very lonely woman, at least at one time. She almost wished that she couldn’t understand the feeling of being alienated by your peers, but for better or worse, the planeswalker knew all too well how cruel children and adults alike could be.

It was that very reason that made a burst of warmth grow beneath her breastbone as the witch chattered on, relaxing her barriers to simply make conversation with her young charges as they worked. Trading quips with herself and the others while they sorted their accumulated junk, mussing Willow’s curls when she made a joke or slapping Gus on the back whenever he cheered at another discovery of salvage. Even the way Eda and King volleyed back and forth with jabs and insults, the well-worn dynamic of two companions who had long since given up on personal barriers or propriety.

When Luz thought of ‘home’ – this was what she imagined. The kind of love and acceptance she struggled to find beyond her own stressed family, back on Earth. In that moment, there was nowhere else in the multiverse she would rather have been. Disregarding the absolutely vile work they were engaged in, anyway.

Even so, Luz felt determination solidify deep in her gut. She wanted to have this opportunity with her mami once more, to laugh and to love without restraint. And she was on the right track, the trash slugs only a piece of the puzzle that was the key to reaching her homeworld.

It was only a matter of time.

The skyline was purpling with evening bruises by the time the Owl Lady called for them to stop.

It had taken a better portion of the day to scavenge the whole of the trash slug, a fact Eda gleefully attributed to its advanced size and age for such a specimen. Almost all of the scrap had been given a preliminary washing and sorting, with the most likely candidates for sale being punted through a summoned portal into the Owl House’s sprawling backyard expanse, and anything being saved for personal retainage sent through more gently to the living room proper. There had been a handful of baubles and valuables that had caught their collective interest as the five of them sorted through slime-ridden junk – King had been quite eager to get his stubby mitts on the several bedraggled plush toys they had found, claiming he was making an addition to his “personal army of conquest” or some such, while Gus happily picked through any remaining tools that Eda hadn’t rendered down to their base components as examples of human technology for later reference.

In that regard, there had been some decent examples of reclaimed goods. A large assortment of various metals and other raw materials had been dedicated their own space, left aside for the Owl Lady to prepare and package as recycled items to be put out for sale. Luz had been left to scrape the crusty remnants of slug and ocean salt from some of the salvaged metal, which left her quite busy as each of her friends had pulled a significant quantity of the stuff from the proverbial vein of garbage.

The last set of items left to her for a preparatory scrubbing – much to her genuine shock – were an intact pair of machines, some dusty laundry room’s washer and dryer bolted together and left to rot. As far as any of them could tell, it was still in decent working order, and so the Owl Lady had commandeered it for possible integration into the household’s load of furniture and fixtures at a later date. She hadn’t seemed quite certain what the thing’s ultimate fate was to be, seeing as she could handle any washing quite well with some judicious application of magic, but the find was still deemed important enough to put aside and give a more thorough rinsing.

They had hauled the rusting boxes up the beach, towards the slope leading further into the woods, in preparation for their departure. Some of the reclaimed trash would need to be hauled back on foot with the support of clever spellwork, as not everything found was slim enough to fit within the boundaries of Eda’s portal dimensions. Luz could still easily source fonts of steaming salt water from the omnipresent tide at that distance, and so had little desire to argue the point.

The young mage was in the middle of spinning the machine’s interior chamber by hand, giving a soft murmur of greeting as miniscule crabs clambered out of the dryer’s sodden depths in the wake of her searching liquid tendrils, when a hand landed on her shoulder from behind.

Luz couldn’t help the yelp that escaped as she twirled towards the deep shadows of the encroaching tree line, a spiral of mana fueled by her panic already leaping to the fore. Her ambusher was ripped away with a choked shout as a column of sand erupted from the beach, shaped into a grasping claw that yanked their luminous white cloak over their head and dropped the person to the dirt as their covering was dislodged.

The mage grasped her pounding heart with one hand as the attacker spluttered through a mouthful of silty soil, giving a low, aggravated groan as Luz took in their features.

Somehow, with the adrenaline of her shock flushing from her system, the planeswalker was unsurprised to find Amity Blight looking back at her with a notably unimpressed glare.

“Criminy, Amity, do you always sneak up on people like that?” She bowed low, grasping the witch’s forearm and pulling her upright even as Luz helped brush the damp sand from the girl’s tunic.

“No, because in most circ*mstances my job is to observe, not to interact.” The flustered coven member replied hotly, swatting away Luz’s roaming hands as she made to straighten out her appearance unaided.

The mage could only cough awkwardly at that statement.

“Ah, right. Your job to spy on us.” A beat of pressing, unbearable silence passed between the two. “…How’s that going for you?”

“Oh, it’s developing fantastically!” The law witch replied, her flat expression at odds with the scathing sarcasm in her tone. “After spending nearly ten hours watching the most wanted witch on the Isles pick through garbage and throw goo at strangers and former classmates, I’ve nearly figured out all of her secret weaknesses. In fact, I bet I could write her biography in my sleep at this point.”

She could only stare silently at the fuming girl, her cheeks twitching against her ironclad control – before Luz’s shocked expression caved way for genuine mirth, a fit of giggles smothered underneath one palm.

Amity seemed unsure as to how she should take the mage’s reaction, shifting from a shy, surprised look before settling on a small mollified smile at the sight of the planeswalker chuckling heartily.

“Well – if the Owl Lady’s life story doesn’t work out, maybe you could do ghost writing for comedians or something.” Luz brought herself back under control, laughter slowly dying away. “I’m sure there’s a club somewhere around here that would appreciate your wittiness, at least.”

The green-haired girl gave a snort of wry amusem*nt.

“In Bonesborough? Quite unlikely.” She shook herself from their shared mirth, falling back onto her more somber countenance. “At any rate, it was requested by Miss Clawthorne that I discuss potential times for our… lessons with you, before I returned to the Emperor’s castle.”

“Right, right. Back to business and all that.” Luz gave an exaggerated nod, keeping her expression carefully still as Amity raised one eyebrow, suspicious of the mage’s mockery. “So, when were you ladies thinking we should get together for some good ol’ magic tutoring?”

The pale witch rolled her eyes at the mage’s flippant attitude, a twirl of her manicured hand summoning a dogeared pocket planner and scuffed pen from her supplies.

“The most immediately available time would be at some point this weekend.” She stated, flipping through the worn pages of her calendar. “Any other open days would likely be later weekends, as well – though there’s a few times we may be able to get away with a day trip during the week for the rest of this month.” Her golden eyes flicked back up to Luz’s face. “Does any of that sound like it might work to you?”

She tapped a finger against her chin, folding her arms in thought while considering any prior arrangements previously mentioned by Eda or her other friends.

“I should be open this weekend, yeah. Hopefully, we would get the basics down for you and Lilith so that you could experiment on your own time. Especially considering I’m not exactly a ‘master’ of any spells, yet.” She paused as a thought occurred to her. “Where we end up training will also depend on some stuff regarding what magic you already do, things about your personality, all of that jazz.”

Amity’s brow shot skyward at the comment, but she forewent any retort in favor of scribbling down a quick note in her booklet.

“Well, if that is the case, Miss Clawthorne would like to extend an invitation to breakfast tomorrow morning before we begin any training. That way, we can iron out some of the finer details before we move onto trying your particular brand of magic.” The law witch flipped through her planner, tearing a scrap of paper from its spine and jotting down some form of address before handing it off to the bemused mage. “Meet us at this diner in Bonesborough once you’re ready – we’ll be waiting for you ahead of time. Please try to get there before noon.”

Luz gave the slip an uncertain look, her eyes sliding up to take in the other girl’s expression as she waited for a response.

“And it’ll just be the three of us. Not your whole department, ready to arrest me as soon as I sit down with a bagel?” It never hurt to make sure, after all.

Amity Blight scoffed at the query, seeming to take umbrage with the question, as it was her honor on the line.

“There are no plans to arrest you, or any of your companions, at this time. We have better things to do than get in a knock-down brawl with the Owl Lady right now.” She hesitated for a moment, eyes flashing with uncertainty, before sticking out a slim hand and sketching a glimmering circle into the evening air. “I’ve been authorized to provide an Everlasting Oath, if that’s what you need as sufficient proof.”

She offered an open palm through the kaleidoscopic ring, and after a moment of consideration, Luz took her hand without a word.

“I, Amity Blight – deputy and apprentice to the Emperor’s Coven – hereby promise Luz Noceda that she and her friends are under no immediate threat of harm or arrest during her provision of magical lessons for myself and Lilith Clawthorne. This agreement is set to end upon the conclusion of our next training session, and the safe delivery of Miss Noceda to her current place of residence.” The spell was intoned with the grave utterance of a lawyer proclaiming their defendant’s innocence in court, the witch’s face severe in the light of the spell circle. “Do you find these terms agreeable?”

Luz mulled over the statement, looking for any outstanding grievances or concerns, before proclaiming her response clearly into the air.

“I accept the terms laid out by Amity Blight.”

The spell tightened to enclose their clasped wrists, tracing a ring of energy over their arms like shared handcuffs before dissipating without ceremony into the evening gloom. The mage retracted her arm, rubbing at the phantom sensation of rope winding about her wrists as the other girl stepped back, giving a satisfied nod.

“That’s that, I suppose. Well, Luz, I will see you tomorrow in town.” The law witch turned on her heel, marching towards the lengthening shadows of the woodlands. “Good luck getting your… treasure back home. Try not to tire yourself out too badly.”

“See ya then, Amity.” The mage gave a halfhearted wave at the witch’s retreating back, but she was already moving out of sight. She shook her head at the theatrics, turning back towards the beach where drifting voices came flowing over the dunes in her direction. It seemed that everyone was packed up and ready to depart for the Owl House, after a hard day’s work. Luz had already promised them a nice, heaping offering of pasta once they had returned.

“…Oh, crap. I still need to tell Eda about our deal.”

“You told my sister and her little crony that you’d do what for them?”

She tried to hold back her instinctive wince at the response. Wasn’t the Owl Lady the one who made a habit of flirting with the law? What, did she get a monopoly on danger or something?

Luz was glad she had decided to wait for Gus and Willow’s departure before bringing the situation up with her host. It seemed that her gut feeling regarding Eda’s acceptance had been correct, much to her dismay.

“C’mon Eda, it’s not a big deal. And besides, Amity tried to wiggle out of it the other day when her conscience got the better of her. They aren’t gonna haul me off to jail anytime soon.”

That didn’t seem to impress her host in the least, based on the look of astonished despair at the statement.

“The kid gave you an out, and you didn’t take it.” The older woman clapped a palm to her forehead in disbelief, frustration warring with shock on her face. “Hellfire, Luz, you might as well slap the cuffs on yourself and save them some effort – seeing as you’re already walking yourself right into the slammer.”

The mage shook her head in aggravation, expression warped with the irritation bubbling over in her chest as they argued.

“Listen – I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don’t make it a habit, per se, but this isn’t the first time I’ve tangled with law mages before.” Her arms folded defensively over her sternum, spine ramrod straight in her seat. “You think somebody can live with a tribe of literal barbarians only a few blocks away from a bustling city, and not tussle with the cops every so often?”

The Owl Lady’s brow furrowed aggressively, a dark grimace on her face as she gave a derisive scoff.

“I have a hard time believing some beat cops are worse than the Emperor’s handpicked lackeys, especially considering one of them is my sister with her nasty little… habits.”

“Well, the worst of them sure didn’t have the decency to make small talk before cracking any skulls in the streets, I can tell you that much.” Luz couldn’t help the heated reply, opting instead to swivel about in her chair and stare determinedly at the flaking countertop instead of looking at the out-of-place fear in Eda’s eyes while they conversed.

“Why’s it matter to you so much, anyway?” The pale witch questioned, scanning Luz’s expression. “Dunno about you, but I wouldn’t want to be handing my local coppers any extra firepower.”

“…Because I made a promise, and I prefer keeping them when I can.” She didn’t mention how her thoughts couldn’t help drifting to the look in Amity’s eyes when she was run out of the Owl House, or the old sadness in Lilith’s voice every time she talked about her sister. Eda likely wouldn’t appreciate her mucking up other people’s business, even if was done with good intentions.

The mage let out an exhausted sigh, feeling every single strain in her muscles from their activities earlier in the day as she distantly wondered how long it would take her to fall asleep that night.

“If it means anything, Amity and I did some kind of ‘oath’ spell when she stopped by at the beach today. She worded it so that they wouldn’t even have room to haul me off to jail right after the magic lesson.” Her chin dropped into her palms, elbows resting on the cool surface of the table. “I’m sure a lawyer could find some crazy loophole to get me arrested, but it seemed fairly airtight to me.”

The Owl Lady seemed to pause, struck silent by the admission.

“…Lily had the baby Blight do an Everlasting Oath with you?” Eda slumped into her seat, some of the fight leaving her posture as she considered that detail. “I doubt she’d risk her favorite kiddy on a faulty deal, especially since it’s to your benefit - mostly. Breaking an oath can give a witch some nasty magical feedback.”

“Sooo… I can go with your approval?” The mage side-eyed the witch, tilting her head beseechingly.

“Definitely not.” Eda informed her frankly, before giving an exaggerated sigh at the wounded look she received. “Technically, it’s not like I can actually stop you. But I want you to know that when things go tit*-up, I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so.’”

“Oh! Well.” She stood from her rickety chair, crossing the room to snag her discarded satchel. “I should pack my stuff ahead of time, then. Don’t wanna be running around tomorrow morning like a headless chicken.”

“Would you be opposed to me walking you into town like it’s your first day of school?” Eda asked dryly from the kitchenette, only partially joking. She relented at the unimpressed expression delivered her way, holding both hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Just figured you might want some back-up. And here I thought I was the one who didn’t get along with common sense.”

She snorted at that comment, shaking her head as she rooted through the remnants of her prepared kit from that morning and pulling out anything that wouldn’t be necessary for magical lessons.

“Yeah, well, sometimes other people get to do the crazy stuff. Gotta mix things up, keep everybody on their toes.” The mage looked up from her pack, co*cking a brow in the Owl Lady’s direction. “Besides, didn’t I hear you talking to Willow earlier about doing some training of your own tomorrow? With how early things can start around here, I wouldn’t think you’d have time for a trip into town.”

“I’ve only really been doing morning stuff beyond market days after you got here, frankly.” Eda levelled an unimpressed look at her. “As if my sleep schedule wasn’t already wildly out of whack, since my curse makes me kinda nocturnal.”

The witch paused, squinting suspiciously at Luz with a downwards curl of her lips.

“Wait a minute. Were you hoping that if I was busy with Willow, I’d just let your little deal slide by without bugging you about it?”

“…No comment.” The mage studiously ignored the other woman’s insulted look, setting aside a handful of scrap metal from their trip to the beach from her backpack.

“I respect your cunning, but I don’t appreciate it being used against me in my own house, little missy.” Eda pointed an accusatory finger at her, giving it a wag for good measure.

“Duly noted -” Luz swung her lightened pack over one shoulder, bolting for the stairs. “And ignored. Have a nice night!”

She scuttled up the staircase in a hurry, her smirk growing at the Owl Lady’s amused and affronted squawk, directing a cheeky wave over her shoulder as she slipped onto the second floor and moved to her cluttered bedroom.

Maybe if she showered quickly enough, she’d even be able to rough up a lesson plan of some sort for her erstwhile students before their meeting.

Chapter 15

Chapter Text

“I guess this is the place, then?”

A low, confirmatory hoot followed the question.

“Thanks for the escort, Owlbert.” A solitary finger stroked across the palisman’s breast, eliciting a croon of pleasure from the adorable construct. “You can head back to the house now. And – try to convince Eda to calm down, alright? Everything’s going to be fine.”

The owl gave another cheery chirp, nestling within the warm crook of Luz’s throat for a moment before shuffling off of her shoulder and winging away, back into the clear skyways above Bonesborough. She watched his spiraling ascent for a few moments, the small silhouette shrinking into the distance, before turning back to the nondescript café she had been guided towards.

Amongst the clash and tumble of Bonesborough’s architecture, the structure stood out only due to its overall mundanity. The exterior was well-kept and furnished, shaded dining tables ringing the wooden porch and smooth river stone walls with a shingled, gable roof sloping out over the entryway. It almost looked like a quaint little place Luz might have found in her own hometown – which was likely why it sent a thrill of wariness through her gut. The surrounding buildings sought to defy the laws of physics, swirling and sprouting from the city skyline like broken teeth.

A fortifying breath of fresh air helped drive the nerves from her system. It was just like she’d told Owlbert – everything was going to be fine. Amity had given her their word with a spell, and besides the… hiccup they’d had at their first encounter, it had been fairly smooth sailing since that day.

Perhaps it was somewhat naïve to assume that the cadre of guardsmen under the city’s employ, and their attached overseers, were not able and willing to crack down on every criminal they could find. But from the planeswalker’s experience, keepers of the peace had never been so – lax, on other worlds. She could still clearly recall the screams and cries of a Gruul-fueled riot being beaten down in the streets of Ravnica’s metropolis by the omnipresent Azorius and Boros guildsmen. There had been no warnings, no appeals to calm. Only the vicious assault of grim and jaded enforcers as they battled her companions in the narrow choke-ways between skyscrapers.

Since that day, Luz had to admit that she held a certain level of caution when it came to dealing with law enforcement.

The wrought-iron frame of the café’s door swung easily on magically maintained hinges, the tinkle of a small bell the only announcement of her arrival at the establishment. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust from the mid-morning glare of light bouncing off white stone, but even with the adjustment period, it was easy to catch sight of her erstwhile students. Most of the other quiet patrons hadn’t even swiveled around at the chime of the bell, but Lilith Clawthorne and her apprentice had positioned themselves with a direct sightline to the doorway. The pair of witches had opted for slate grey cloaks with deep, shadowed hoods, but the mage had already caught a glimpse of Lilith’s lengthy locks draped from beneath her covering.

Luz slid into the seat opposite of the law witches, giving them a polite nod and accompanying grin as her elbows came to rest on the table. Her dusty backpack was dropped to the floor at their feet with a short thump as it landed.

“Good morning, ladies. So, is this one of your favorite pit stops for a coffee or something? I almost couldn’t find the address without Owlbert’s help.”

Lilith gave her a nonplussed stare, blinking languidly in the face of an unending well of energy as Amity dropped the menu she had been browsing to co*ck an eyebrow in the mage’s direction.

“Miss Noceda. Greetings.” The coven leader gently plucked the folded paper from her apprentice’s grasp, thumbing the menu open as she gave a downwards glance at the item listings. “I am glad you were able to find this place in a timely manner with some assistance. But to answer your question – no, we don’t come here very often. It is simply a location with staff who are discreet enough to know when they should avoid their patron’s business. I thought it appropriate for our initial meeting.”

“Fair enough. And please, just call me Luz – ‘Miss Noceda’ is my mom, not me.” Luz bobbed her head in acknowledgement, hoisting herself up in the spindly wooden seat to gaze over the edge of Lilith’s bill of fare. “What kind of stuff do they have here? I skipped breakfast at the Owl House, since I figured we could pick something up.”

The witch handed her the sheet without another word, allowing her to skim the page with a ravenous eye.

“Ooh, it all looks pretty good to me.” Luz paused, stroking a thumb along the worn edge of the pamphlet. “I’m a bit surprised how – normal this menu is.” She peered up at the exposed rafters above the restaurant’s patrons, tilting her head in consideration. “And the architecture, if I’m being honest. From what I’ve seen, most of Bonesborough is pretty wacky.”

Amity Blight broke her silence, rolling her shoulders in the approximation of a shrug as she lightly clasped her hands atop the polished tabletop.

“A lot of the older, standardized structures and businesses are original construction before more people began moving into the city limits. Once Emperor Belos brought the Isles under his control and started cracking down on dangerous wild magics, our people were able to congregate in larger towns without fear of rampant magical crime.” The words were crisply enunciated, stated boldly as fact straight from a historical text – but Lilith gave a simple nod of agreement at her deputy’s analysis.

Luz let loose a bland, vaguely intrigued sound in response, eyeing the menu as her mind ran over all of the dirty cities and desperately impoverished people she had met in her travels – though she opted not to start an argument for the moment with the coven witches. It was still too early in the morning for that kind of drama.

The planeswalker had just narrowed down the meal selection to something she might actually be interested in trying, when Lilith spoke up once more, breaking her focus.

“It is my understanding that the form of magics that Amity saw you performing may require – additional components to function, based upon your previous discussion with her.” The pale, willowy woman leaned forward, her brow furrowed in tempered curiosity. “Are there any further considerations that need to be covered for our lessons today? Or would any secluded location do for this sort of spellcasting?”

“Oh – okay, yeah. I did mention that the other day.” Luz’s fingers drummed across the counter as she considered their options. “So, the way my type of spells work is that we need to connect to the land as our power source, like a battery. There’s five different colors of mana that we can use, and each of them is tied into different kind of terrain, which also corresponds to the themes of those spells.” The mage stopped speaking as she took in their blank looks of disbelief, tapping her chin in thought. “I’m not making a lot of sense to you, am I?”

“Not particularly.” Amity’s humor remained as dry as the Titan’s ribs that arched over the city. “If a witch wants to learn a spell, they watch their instructor’s examples and follow along until they can get it right. Maybe they’ll even read about it in a textbook. There isn’t anything to do with – colors, and talking to the Isles or whatever.”

“Hmm.” Okay, that might explain some inconsistencies with her friends’ capacity for utilizing mana during their prior lessons. “How about this – I have some experience with the kinds of magic that law mages use to cast spells. So, since you two -” She gestured between the pair of coven members with a wave. “Are part of the police force like they were, why don’t we start there and see where things take us?”

Lilith’s gaze narrowed in thought at Luz’s statement, but whatever oddity had caught her attention slid to the wayside as she gave the young mage a slow nod.

“Okay, great!” The planeswalker lightly clapped her hands, giving her companions a winning smile. “The cops I’ve encountered before like to use white mana for their spells, with some backup from blue magic.” She gave the ceiling a thoughtful squint. “And I haven’t had the chance to get a feel for any white magic sources on the Isles yet. Since that’s the case, we’re gonna need to find a large, open plain somewhere. Like a wild field, or maybe a savannah, if that’s something you have around here…?” Her voice trailed off uncertainly, confidence petering out as she realized they were still landlocked within the confines of an island chain.

Thankfully, Lilith appeared to have some notion of a suitable space, even if her look of bemusem*nt had yet to slip.

“There is a large stretch of unoccupied foothills between Bonesborough and its nearest neighboring township. They primarily consist of open plainlands in the shadow of the Titan’s ribcage.” The unamused quirk of her eyebrows was strikingly familiar to the expression her apprentice wore when she had lost patience with Luz’s vagaries in the past. “Do you think you might find that region to your liking?”

The mage gave a contemplative hum, nodding in response to the dry query.

“It’s definitely worth a shot. When we get closer, I’ll be able to let you know if it should work for our lessons.” She glanced down at the menu still in her grasp. “Do you want to sit in and eat, or take breakfast on the go? Assuming we can walk there, anyway.”

The coven leader gracefully swept from her chair, collecting the pamphlet from Luz’s unresisting hands as she stood.

“Let us get a move on. There is little reason to waste any more time than necessary.”

The service was swift and polite, the horned demon working the aged counter taking their collective order and disappearing into the kitchen, only to return moments later with a crinkled paper bag containing their food and drink. Miss Clawthorne waved Luz away when she moved to pull out money for her meal, commenting that it would be rude to force their guest to pay without advance notice. A small pile of gleaming coin was quick to exchange hands, and the trio were on their way through the bright streets of the town once more.

They ate in mildly awkward silence on the walk, a stilted lack of conversation born from being three relative strangers. Eventually, after having finished their bagels and sandwiches without a word, Amity broke the silence to offer passing commentary on some of the store fronts and public structures to Luz. Evidently, even the professional deputy could only stand so much uncomfortable quiet before forcing the stillness from the air. Luz didn’t comment on it, but she thoroughly appreciated the effort. Even Lilith seemed to relax somewhat, trading some of her own quips about their surroundings as they approached the border of Bonesborough.

The coven witches did not shed their cloaks until they were well out of sight from the gates flanking the city limits, tossing back their hoods and giving small sighs of relief as they were freed from the sweltering confines of their garments. Lilith must have caught Luz’s questioning glance at the action, meeting her gaze with an impassive stare.

“You seem surprised that we would go to such lengths to hide our identities in town, Miss Noceda.” Her own voice trailed off curiously, prompting the mage to respond to the observation.

“Well, yeah. Aren’t you guys in charge of the Emperor’s Coven?” Luz quirked a brow at the older woman. “I kinda got the sense that you were free to do what you want, really.”

“Yes, generally speaking. Emperor Belos does not hold many qualms about allowing his servants to perform their duties as they see fit, so long as they do them well.” Her tone dried out somewhat at the statement. “However, it is fairly unwise to be seen openly consorting with felons. Would you not agree?”

“…Well, I wouldn’t say that. I mean – does anybody really know about our little run-in at the market?” She couldn’t halt the nervous laugh that bubbled in her chest, reaching up to scratch the anxious itch at the base of her skull. “I doubt anybody would remember me that well. Y’know?”

“The average citizenry are not my concern.” The elder Clawthorne’s voice hardened as she turned back to the roughly hewn roadway trailing off into the distance. “If the right people held any interest in parsing out your identity, then they already know. It is not wise to be stepping on toes in the Emperor’s domain.”

Her throat bobbed with a nervous swallow at the implication of other interested eyes tracking their movements. If Lilith was right, then there could very well be… less sympathetic parties keeping a tab on herself and the Owl House. Luz wasn’t quite certain how to feel about that.

“…Wait a sec.” She squinted suspiciously at the lanky witch, a question bubbling up in the wake of the Clawthorne sister’s ominous comment. “If someone could figure me out besides the people watching the house, then aren’t you worried about being spotted ‘in cahoots?’”

Lilith’s grave countenance cracked, and a small, self-satisfied grin took to her lips.

“Seeing as the head of the Emperor’s Coven is also one of the primary castle administrators, I am well aware of most everyone’s schedules,” The woman stated confidently. “And besides – we’ve taken some additional… precautions.” Clutching the silky fabric of her cloak, her fingers twisted the cloth about, exposing an oily shimmer of enchantment in the broad daylight.

“Ah. Gotcha.”

Their conversation melted away into further silence as they marched into the wilderness.

As a more abstract source of magic in comparison to traditionally elemental colors of mana, plains generated magic in a way that subtly borrowed from its brothers. The intangible caress of filtered aether over Luz’s exposed arms felt like a calm tidal wash of power akin to the waves of blue mana swirling across the entirety of the Boiling Isles. Where the sapphire tendrils of power were questing and untamed, however, the sensation of white mana was the push and pull of a sea at rest. It circled and swam above the healthy rolling plains that stretched away from Bonesborough’s walls and roads, comfortable in its natural patterns as the cycle of life and death played out below for the flora and fauna of the islands.

It didn’t truly cast any effects over her mind, but the tantalizing wisp of homely warmth that flowed over Luz helped to soothe her nerves in the face of her next venture into magical tutoring.

“Oh, yeah. This place will work perfectly for today.”

She took in a bracing breath of fresh air, setting her shoulders as she turned on her heel to face the pair of witches, even while her conscious mind leaned into the relaxed swell of magic cresting around them.

“So – there’s a bit of prep work needed here, before we can get started. Mostly a bunch of stuff I need to let you know for context. And once we get through that, we can move on to the basics.” The mage presented her upturned palms to Lilith and Amity, looking between the two searchingly. “Is there anything you gals wanted to cover before we get into this?”

“Yes, actually.” The older woman cleared her throat primly, taking a step forward from her apprentice’s side. “There is something that needs to be said before we continue onwards.”

Luz waited with a slightly forced smile as the coven leader tugged at the fringe of her dress with a finger, expression smoothing out into blank politeness – only for the young planeswalker to blink in surprise as Lilith swept downwards into a deep bow.

“I would like to offer my sincerest apologies for my behavior at our previous encounter.” The witch supplied, tilting her head upwards so as to meet Luz’s silhouette. “I had spoken down to you poorly, simply because I assumed your actions to be delinquent and endangering in an effort to harness magic beyond your grasp.” Her sightline twisted upwards to reach the mage’s eyes, voice dipping briefly into a steely tone. “I do not condone the crimes you’ve aided or committed.” The rebuke left her expression after a moment’s consideration. “But it was wrong of me to approach you as someone lesser simply because of your heritage. And for that, I am sorry.”

“Huh. Um, okay. I - wasn’t expecting that.” The implication of the elder Clawthorne’s speech at the market hadn’t been lost on Luz at the time, but it had truly slipped her mind in the following days – especially considering the outbreak of Eda’s curse. “Thanks, I think. It’s great you’re aware of that, and all. I guess just – don’t assume people can’t do magic on their own in the future and be rude to them…?” She really wasn’t certain on the kind of etiquette for this sort of interaction. “Um. You can stop bowing now. But – thanks.”

Luz had no idea how to interpret the pinched expression on Amity’s face as her mentor straightened up, but she hoped their lesson might go a little more smoothly, if Lilith was willing to try and make amends for her prior attitude.

The apology had thrown her for a loop in its abrupt introduction to the conversation, and she blurted the first thing that came to mind as nerves reared their heads once more in the base of her gut.

“Besides - I’ve met, like, way worse people before when it comes to making crappy assumptions.” A self-conscious laugh slipped from her lips in remembrance. “Once, I accidentally wandered into a stretch of woods that was under the protection of an elf tribe, and they thought I was there to – take their land, and burn down the whole forest or something crazy. Just because I’m human.” Her hands waved in reference to her own slim figure. “I was exploring by myself, too, but they accused me of being – species-ist, or whatever. When they were the ones judging me because of how I look. Tell me how that makes any sense!”

The witches exchanged a silent look, eyes meeting in conference, before their heads swiveled back towards the mage.

“I’m sorry, you encountered a… tribe, of elves on the Isles?” Lilith sounded faintly curious, perplexment clear on her face. “I didn’t believe there were any communes or sizable families left in the wilderness. Most citizens have moved into the larger cities over the last few decades.”

The implicit question of where Luz had attained her magical skills – and how a secret community might tie into that - went unsaid, but she felt the true question behind the coven leader’s words all the same.

“As far as I know, you could be right. I didn’t meet them anywhere on the Isles.” The last time she’d had this discussion, it had ended in tears and misery for most everyone involved. Hopefully the Emperor’s Coven was much more open to the idea of strange magics and distant worlds. “The reason I’m here, and not still on Earth, is because I’m something called a planeswalker.”

Luz twisted away from her students to look out over the field spanning the horizon, feeling for the wild spasms of red mana in the distance even as she spoke.

“There’s a whole multiverse out there, with too many worlds to count. I’ve met all sorts of people, including other humans, in places so alien I never could have imagined them.” Her soul reached out through the incomprehensible nothingness of the Blind Eternities, searching for familiar sparks of burning minds even as she readied a greater burst of creeping green magic on its heels. “That’s where I learned magic. I never saw anything supernatural like that until I’d left home, so I guess it makes sense that witches are skeptical about human spellcasters.”

Pulling multiple living things through the void between worlds in short order was akin to a full-body workout, tugging and bucking against Luz’s will in an effort to break free of her iron grasp. But she held the strands of mana fast in her mindscape, and the fabric of reality was torn asunder to allow the passage of her companions.

“Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I think I’ve gotten pretty good with magic since I left the homestead.” A cheeky grin crawled across her mouth when Lilith and Amity stepped back in shock, their eyes going wide as the soil churned beneath the mage’s feet, buckling in sync to the ragged red gashes that lit up the air above their heads.

She thought she looked very suave, leaning casually against the bulky frame of her Zendikari friend as the elemental tore itself from the grasp of anchored grassland roots, hoisting its bulky body into being at Luz’s side. The brief flare of petty pride at the showboating was eclipsed, however, as the bristling flames of Odin’s plumage burst into her peripheral vision. The planeswalker caught the approaching firebird on an outstretched arm with poorly concealed concern, gently running fingertips over the side that had slammed into a wall only days before even as the phoenix crooned in delight at the attention.

“Glad to see you’re feeling alright, buddy.” She murmured to the eagle, happily leaning into the creature’s efforts to nestle his skull comfortably beneath her chin. Luz pulled away from the needy elemental after a moment as she performed a mental headcount, gaze swiveling around in burgeoning alarm. “Wait a second, I think we’re missing somebody -”

Her knee buckled beneath a sudden impact, and it was only the support of the jungle spirit beside her that kept Luz from being bowled over as a giggling fire sprite ran full tilt into her shin, its flames hissing and sparking wildly. The mage made certain to hold still as the burning gremlin wasted no time scrambling up her pant leg, using the loose cloth of her outfit to clamber onto her shoulder with a squeal of delight, gazing at the wide plains about them with undisguised curiosity.

It had been a long time since she’d had so many of her inhuman friends in one place at the same time. All the better that they would be able to help her with the lessons she had planned for the coven witches.

On that note…

Neither of the women had made any attempt to hide their surprise at Luz’s summoning of foreign creatures. Lilith seemed somewhat astonished, likely due to lingering doubt about the mage’s abilities, her line of sight shifting back and forth between the trio of supernatural beings as she drank in every detail. But Amity – she gazed at the alien appearance of the elementals with naked interest, even bordering on hunger. Luz could almost see the calculation behind the girl’s pale eyes at the presentation of powerful foreign magics.

“So?” She singsonged, grinning mischievously at the elder Clawthorne sister. “Finally believe that a human can pull off a spell or two?”

The teasing question seemed to snap her out of the fugue she had been held by, leaving Lilith to roughly clear her throat after a moment’s hesitation.

“Yes. Well. It certainly appears so.” Her tone held a faint trace of having been impressed by the display. “Once again, I find myself having to apologize for doubting your abilities.”

Luz gave a magnanimous wave of a hand, shaking her head as her smile softened into something more genuine.

“It’s no problem, really. Just try to keep the derogatory comments about humans on the downlow in the future.” The coven head seemed mollified at the comment, so the planeswalker turned her attention to the younger of the two witches. “What do you think, Amity? Pretty cool, right?” She gave the resting jungle elemental a pat on its rocky limb in reference.

Deputy Blight stepped forward boldly, eyeing the flickering warmth of the Ravnican sprite and its monstrous compatriot as she did so.

“Well, I’ve already seen your bird, so that’s one part of the big reveal ruined.” The law witch extended a slim hand to the phoenix at her shoulder, upturned knuckles first as if approaching a strange new hound. Odin leaned in to examine her limb critically, beady eyes flicking up to the girl’s expectant face as she awaited the animal’s’ judgement.

For her part, Luz was somewhat interested in her companion’s reaction. Phoenixes were notoriously good judges of character, in her experience. It would be rather telling if Odin refused Amity the opportunity for close contact – and while she would insist upon forming her own judgements, such an interaction may weigh in on her internal debate regarding the pale girl’s integrity after the confrontation at the Owl House.

The burning eagle gave the offered hand another moment of consideration, before slowly stretching towards the manicured fingers with a low coo. Luz watched the pair, bemused, as Amity stroked the fluttering flames of his plumage without fear.

Huh. Another note in the file on the whole Amity Blight ‘deal,’ I guess.

“What spell did you use to create them?” The young witch glanced at the enormous elemental flanking Luz with appreciation, taking in the bulky outline of the creature’s form. “They remind me of the abominations I studied in school. Those kinds of golems are normally limited to being amorphous and humanoid, though.”

Another item of interest to note down for the future – but the mage shook her head, gesturing to her elemental friends once more.

“I didn’t ‘make’ anybody. Odin was born naturally to his momma as part of a clutch; this little guy here -” She poked the miniature fire spirit in the gut, eliciting an energetic chitter. “And Big Green were created by mana influencing the local land on its own for their respective worlds.”

The jungle elemental twisted with an echoing rumble, the sound of clacking rocks and squalling fowl crafting an indignant chorus in response to her words.

“Sorry, pal. But it’s hard mentioning you in conversation without at least a nickname.” She rubbed the craggy angles of its collar comfortingly. “Listen, I think Eda really hit the nail on the head with that one. ‘Big Green’ is a perfect fit for you!”

The newly christened being only gave an approximation of a petulant grunt, dropping its heft to the ground on curled forelimbs as it sulked at the injustice of it all.

“I suppose that makes sense.” Amity eyed the moping entity in mild confusion. “Most abominations definitely don’t have as much… character as these creatures.” Her gaze swung back to the planeswalker before her. “What, exactly, are they anyway?”

“Elementals!” Luz proudly replied, gesturing emphatically to the otherworldly trio at her side. “Nature spirits, to sum it up. You can find all sorts of them on different planes – it’s kinda weird that witches don’t seem to spot them around here.” She offered a small shrug in accompaniment to her observation. “Maybe it’s because the Isles are technically artificial, since they’re made out of the Titan’s bones? I don’t really know why they wouldn’t be more common.”

Lilith stepped into place beside her apprentice, honest curiosity driving her to inspect the alien beings more closely.

“And you managed to bring them across time and space to the Boiling Isles.” The older woman sounded faintly impressed, the shock of such a major magical accomplishment breaking through her firm layer of composure. “That is no mean feat – I’ve never even heard of a witch being able to do so with wildlife from the Human Realm, and we know much more about your ‘Earth’ than… any other, beyond our own.” She shook her head, giving a disbelieving chuckle at her words. “It sounds so unbelievable, that there are more inhabited worlds out there. And yet we are already aware of two – why would life be limited to them alone?”

“Exactly. And honestly, I’m more curious about how different worlds have the same kinds of people.” The mage gestured skywards loosely, indicating her own befuddlement at the situation. “Like, how come animals are so different between two planes, but then they’ll have really similar populations of humans, and elves, and orcs, for example. It’s a pretty big mystery, as far as I can gather.” Her arms crossed over her chest, voice dipping down into a mutter of impersonal indignity. “Especially since that’s not how evolution or genetics work, but hey, what do I know…”

The younger witch pulled away from the happily churring phoenix, leaving Odin to squawk in dismay as her attention returned to her spellcasting tutor, expression hardening once more into neutrality as she assumed a professional stance.

“This is really quite intriguing and all, but you haven’t told us what we’re supposed to be learning today. Or how.” Her head co*cked to the side in reference to the gathering of elemental spirits. “Are we going to be working on this ‘summoning?’ That strikes me as a fairly advanced school of spells for a first session.”

“Oh really?” Luz planted balled fists at her hips, one eyebrow co*cked challengingly at the girl’s imperious tone. “Not up to going for the harder lessons, Little Miss Law Mage? I assumed you were made of sterner stuff than that.”

A dangerous flash of competition entered Amity’s gaze as she glared in response to the mage’s needling.

“The Emperor’s Coven never backs down from a challenge – and neither do Blights. Bring it on, Miss Freelance Spellcaster.” The pale witch’s words were bitten out tauntingly, posture almost defensive as she stiffened up in the face of confrontation.

Her tone and body language twinged at long-buried memories in the depths of Luz’s mind, striking her with the sudden sensation that she was facing down a sneering high school bully once again – and frankly, that nagging feeling probably explained a few things about the tumultuous relationship between the coven deputy, and the mage’s other witch friends. But if there was one thing she was more well-versed in than surviving the multiverse’s greatest threats, it was surviving the prissy little thugs that had assaulted her all throughout the short time spent in public education on Earth. Even if those skills had atrophied somewhat.

Luz nonchalantly twisted away from the riled law witch, throwing out a careless utterance of “Nah” as she led the pack of elementals down the gentle slope of the roadside ditch, gesturing for her students to follow after they spent a moment hesitating on the hardpacked gravel. Lilith and Amity began trudging after the young planeswalker in short order, the aggravated huff of the coven apprentice music to her ears as they approached the sprawling field stretching to the horizon.

The soil of the plains was dry and crumbling in the mid-afternoon heat, a harsh summer climate leeching moisture from the dirt with impunity, even after the recent heavy downpour. The soft swish of withered grass stalks was a balm on Luz’s patience, lulling her into a balanced calm as her magical senses stretched outwards. The push and pull of white mana swept over her, mingling with her open soul as she directed another confident grin at her students.

“Today, we’ll be working on helping you learn how to connect to sources of white magic, such as this plain here.” Her fingers trailed lightly over the waist-high weeds, even as she drew upon a burgeoning connection to the world around her. “Law mages on other worlds are big fans of this kind of magic. It’s pretty versatile – you can do anything from healing people to crafting magical restraints for criminals, both of which I’ve seen those police do in the past.”

Luz gestured grandly to her gathering of otherworldly companions, turning to face the witches once more.

“And that’s what the boys will be helping us with for this lesson: letting you try out some of the different ways of cuffing suspects, or even doing things like giving temporary strength and healing living creatures. Once you’ve got the basics down…” Her arms splayed to encompass the field they stood in. “The world’s your oyster, really. Experimentation is the name of the game.”

“And you know how to do all of the spells you’ve described?” The elder Clawthorne questioned, the remnants of a disbelieving squint in her gaze.

“Nope!” Came the cheerful reply, causing the coven member’s expressions to scrunch up in disgruntlement. “I’m still working on my white magic, honestly. What really matters is figuring out your connection to the mana in the environment first. A lot of the base-level spellwork after that point is working on getting the right feeling down and giving it your best shot. Which is what I will also be doing, today.”

The mage drew in a measured breath, letting it slip from her nostrils in a level exhale as she tugged on the growing chord of magical might that bonded her to the Isles’ plains. A moment of concentration left her with a twin pair of swirling mana orbs in her palms, the drip of power that formed the spell trickling away upon its completion. The gathered magicka was deposited in each of the witches’ own hands, gently coruscating above their fingertips like a captured chemical reaction.

“I’ve been trying out a few kinds of approaches to teaching magic like this as of late.” Luz explained, drawing on another paracausal bond as green mana welled to the fore of her soul. “But the simplest way people seem to find effective for this stuff is having some mana as a sample in front of them, coupled with a little meditation.”

An electric pulse of mana flashed down her arms as her wrist twisted, tearing a block of compacted soil upwards as a facsimile of a table, followed shortly by the provision of rocky seats for her guests. Each of them sat in turn before the stubby column, with Luz tossing her pack carelessly upon the ground, while the witches’ attention was split between the spellcasting performed by the human mage and their gifted orbs of white magic.

“If that kind of soul-searching jazz doesn’t work for somebody…” She hiked a thumb over her shoulder at the wider field beyond. “Then we’ll try and force it with some practical work. Eda had a heck of a time with trying to feel out the mana when she was sitting still, which is why we started blowing things up in the wood to get the juices flowing.”

“My sister, unable to sit calmly and perform work when instructed?” A spark of humor entered Lilith’s tone as her eyes flicked upwards from the turning of her magical sphere. “Perish the thought.”

Luz snorted in amusem*nt at the comment, shaking her head with a good-natured grin.

“Aw, give her some credit – it worked out when we started with blue magic. Though it took her, like, five or so days and a whole lot of smelling sea salt before it finally clicked, but Eda definitely got it down!”

“Is that a normal length of time for picking up this sort of spellcasting?” The older woman asked, an iota of concern entering her voice. “I’m uncertain that we’ll be able to put aside that many days for this type of meeting -”

“No, no, it should be fine!” The mage waved her hands placatingly, cutting across the pale witches’ fears. “I mean, when I first started and didn’t know anything about magic, it took me a while to get this stuff down. But Eda, she’s – a bit of on outlier honestly. She’s crazy good with casting all sorts of spells, but tapping into mana seems to really take a lot on her part to make it work…”

Lilith’s expressions slipped at that announcement, her eyes falling back to the makeshift tabletop with a minute slump of her shoulders.

“Ah. I see.” Aged regret trickled into her tone after a brief bout of silence. “Ever since she… received her curse as a child, Edalyn has complained about her connection to the Isles and her magics being harder to initialize and maintain. It became more apparent over the course of many years, as she has begun struggling with casting spells at the same speed and volume as she once did.” A single manicured finger slowly stroked the curve of her twisting mana sphere, as if seeking to draw comfort from the contact. “I would not be overly surprised if that is the source of her troubles.”

“…Oh. That… would explain it. Yeah.” A stilted quiet fell over their gathering, her elemental friends crowding closer as they sensed the disturbance of her mood at their darkened conversation. They remained silent for a number of long moments, before Amity broke the hold on the group with a pointed query.

“So, what exactly are we trying to feel right now?” Notes of irritation had slipped into her voice. “Because I’m not really sure what you want us to find for this… white magic.”

The young planeswalker cleared her throat, settling clasped palms on the table as she attempted putting abstract concepts into a coherent description.

“When I’m making contact with a new source of mana, I like to focus on the kinds of themes you see with how that color of magic is used. For example -” White spellwork blossomed in her cupped palm, generating a brilliant globe of werelight for the witches to view. “White tends to tie into things like light and order. Making a glowing ball so I can see is pretty easy, since it’s just fulfilling a physical need. But…” Luz raised her arms, pulling on her growing bond with the world as she allowed a handful of miniscule orbs to escape from her fingers. “If I want to do the spell I performed the other day, when Eda was cursed, I need to feel and understand my little lamp balls so I can thread some mana between them, and connect the group together.”

The mage pinged her witchlights with a soft touch of her conscience, enwrapping the floating spell orbs with a band of white magic that keyed them into her breathing pattern, leaving them to flash in time to the rise and fall of her chest. Her audience looked on, genuine interest coloring their gazes as they watched the spheres slowly orbit her head in the bright daylight beating down on the fields.

“I believe I begin to see.” Lilith muttered, eyes tracing the path of Luz’s orbs. “Your magic is based upon emotion and intuition, which you use to both draw power directly from the land and form your spells. And to do so, you must…” Her head tilted towards the rolling foothills in the distance. “Gain a greater understanding of your surroundings, first.”

The older witch stood from the dirt table, examining the fields afar in a new light as she strode a short distance away, the portion of mana still bobbing in her hands.

“Miss Lilith -?” The younger witch tried uncertainly, only to receive a distracted flick of a wrist in response.

“Allow me to try something on my own, Deputy Blight.” The Clawthorne sister’s voice was distant, sinking into a warm calm as she sat upon the edge of a gentle slope. “I have an inkling of what must be done to make this connection – Edalyn and I once did similar meditations, when we were young.” She shook her head fondly, the smooth curtain of her hair swishing back and forth across her immaculate dress. “And to think, I scoffed at her claims of feeling ‘attuned’ to the Isles as children. Perhaps there was something to it, after all.”

She seemed to sense Amity’s uncertainty, even facing away from the pair, prompting her to turn about and give her apprentice a look of encouragement.

“I know quite well that you are a woman of action, Miss Blight. Why don’t you see if something more direct might assist you in learning this magic?” Her line of sight slid over to the mage sat beside the younger witch. “I’m certain that Miss Noceda would be of some assistance in your endeavors.”

The human mage turned to face her companion, giving the hesitant witch a raised eyebrow.

“That works for me. Want to give it a shot, Amity?”

The pale witch gave a grunt of agreement, prompting Luz to stand and lead her charge away from the occupied table, dispelling the orbs of light in her wake with a thought. Her elemental summons opted to remain behind without her guidance, alternating between resting atop the raised mound and curiously prodding the environment around them as their attention wandered. She gave them a parting glance even as she tromped off across the open plain, newfound student in tow.

They stopped a few dozen feet from the remainder of their party, just out of comfortable earshot. The coven member’s demeanor seemed to loosen as they escaped the vigilant presence of her mentor, tension leaking from her posture as she gave the mage an expectant look.

“What are you thinking for a lesson, Luz?” The pale witch winced as an unpleasant thought occurred to her. “Miss Lilith is right – I’m better at tackling magic head-on. And frankly, I don’t want to spend the next week stuck on the very first step. Especially if that means I have to wander around in a field the entire time.”

“Luckily, I considered this ahead of time, just in case!” The planeswalker rubbed her hands together eagerly, leaning forward with an excited grin. “It’s not every day I actually get to plan a magic session in advance, you know.”

“Not one for forethought, I take it?” Amity remarked dryly, a mildly unimpressed look stealing over her features.

“Exactly. You’ve caught me in rare form, Miss Blight!” She proclaimed, eliciting a quirk of the witches’ lips, accompanied by a snort of amusem*nt. Luz forged onwards, straightening her posture as she flexed her fingers. “What I was thinking, is that we do a demonstration of your normal magic first – let you hone in on what you’re feeling, where you might need those spells in your line of work – and then we try to replicate it with white magic. Sound good?”

“That works for me. Except I still need to… connect to the land, like you said before.” Amity folded one arm over the other, keeping her free palm upturned to clasp the sample of swirling white magic. “Any suggestions there?”

“The same approach.” The mage punched a fist into her palm confidently. “We get you into the rhythm, show you a few examples of what I can do, and see if it gets you in the right mindset.”

She met Amity in the middle of the defilade, dried grass crunching beneath her boots as she cupped the witch’s curled hands with her own. The other girl stiffened at the contact, her eyes unerringly tracking their connection while Luz slowly pressed her fingers into the bubbling sphere of creamy aether floating over their palms.

“Working with mana is like the feeling you get when someone casts a spell right next to you.” She spoke softly, not wanting to shatter the swelling tension between them as Amity Blight gave the mage her undivided attention. “You’re looking for that charge, the movement of magic in the air. Once you find it the first time, it’s a lot easier to come back to. But you need to feel the magic being cast – not just see it.”

A sliver of power sheared off from the coalesced magic, bobbing into Luz’s grasp as she felt for its ordered metaphysical presence with her mind.

“Close your eyes for me.”

After a moment of loaded hesitation, the coven deputy’s eyelids slid closed.

“You know how it feels, when you cast a light spell.” The mana spun beneath the planeswalker’s will, compressing into a burning orb of gas at a glacial pace. “Keep your senses open for that. The sight, and smell, and sound – mix it up with the little mental nudge you give your magic to get it going.” The werelight ascended into the air around them, flashing over Amity’s shuttered expression and causing her to wince at the momentary flare of brightness. “That’s what you’re looking for. But instead of feeling all of those things when you use a spell circle, you’re trying to do it freehand while you listen to the plains.”

“But – how do I connect to the Isles?” The pale girl whispered, face scrunching up in consternation. “I still don’t see how I’m supposed to just pull magic out of thin air like that.”

“That’s what we’re gonna work on.” Luz plucked another globule of mana from the rotating sphere, casting it into the sky once more as a basic light spell. “You need to understand the world around you to work with it. White magic is about order, and familiarity.” Her hand gently released Amity’s own, reaching forward for a third sample of power to cast a witchlight. “It’ll come to you when you’re in tune with the terrain – trust me.”

The mage continued crafting soft sources of illumination from the blob of mana she had handed to the witch, until both of their hands were left emptied of magic. Amity’s golden eyes flickered open at the loss of its ephemeral weight, looking down at her extended arms in something akin to surprise.

“I didn’t even realize there was something still left until it was already gone.” Her voice was hushed with burgeoning interest, tracing the grooves of her own exposed skin with her gaze. “It’s not even like I was touching it, but I just – felt it, when you cast the last spell.”

“Good! That means you’re probably sensitive to that kind of thing.” The young mage gave her student a winning smile, clapping her on the shoulder in celebration and shocking the witch into a jolt. “Now, let’s get to the meat and potatoes of today’s lesson.”

Taking several steps away, Luz directed a ‘come hither’ gesture towards the coven witch, her grin twisting into a cheeky smirk.

“Hit me with that spell you used on Eda the other day, where you wrapped her up with some magical ropes.”

An arched brow was her only response, before a swift spin of Amity’s wrist sent a tangle of humming bonds shooting towards the planeswalker. They latched onto her limbs, binding arms and legs tightly together with just enough force to rock her backwards, without sending her plummeting to the hardpacked soil below.

“That’s perfect. Dispel these, please!”

Another flick of the law witch’s limb had the arcane cuffs disintegrate with a fizzle, hissing softly in the quiet breeze as they faded.

“This is what I’m thinking. The best way for you to get some in-the-field practice, is to have a moving target to aim at – which will be me.” Luz spread her arms to display her silhouette to her student. “I want you to try and do something similar to that spell, but with no circles. And if you’re gonna want to tap into the ambient mana around here, you’ll have to be focusing on the field, too.”

“…Alright, then.” The witch squinted in confusion at her, posture shifting uncertainly. “That seems awfully simplistic to me.”

“Well, here’s the catch: if you want to get in the right mindset, we need to make like you’re actually trying to do an arrest in town.” The mage’s voice turned falsely sweet at the proclamation, even as she cracked her knuckles with intimidating intent. “I hope Lilith’s been teaching you how to dodge.”

Her student only had time to utter an undignified “Guh” before she was forced to duck beneath Luz’s lunging fist, eyes widening as she scrambled back from the follow-up punch headed for her jaw.

“Come on, Amity!” The mage called cheerfully, keeping her arms loose and low as she circled the wary witch. “Cops have to brawl with people all the time. Don’t tell me the Coven didn’t actually give you any training for this?”

A scathing retort was growing on the other girl’s lips, but it was abandoned in lieu of sucking down precious oxygen as Amity spun away from the planeswalker’s charging grapple.

“What, exactly, is this supposed to be doing for me!?” Evidently, her student did not appreciate a lack of forewarning before beginning to spar. She’d make sure to consider that for future lessons.

“Getting you in the right mindset, obviously. Have to really be in the groove for that first time you tap into mana!”

Luz’s advance was methodical and telegraphed, only intended to spook Amity into ducking away more than actually inflicting any harm. Even as the pale witch flinched out of the path of her attacks, however, the mage was working on her own connection to the plains of the Isles.

Common practice for utilizing red mana in combat was to empower one’s body, allowing commitment to greater speed and impact for both offense and defense. It was a skill she had often employed in the past, but such spells were not relegated solely to the more aggressive schools of magic. She had seen numerous instances of mages engaged in acts of battle and heroism do the same with other colors of mana, including green and white. No two spells were ever completely identical, but their intended effects were not necessarily unique.

Lashing out with punches and kicks, Luz felt the strain of exertion tug at her muscles, relishing the ebb and flow of their mock combat. Amity seemed dedicated to leave the fighting one-sided, her expression smoothed out into smoldering determination as she clearly attempted to muster up the effort of will to call upon the plains for their aetheric tides while she dodged away from the assault. But even in such a stunted showing of battle, the planeswalker felt herself slipping into the focused calm she had cultivated in her time with the savage Gruul clans. Emotions were harnessed into narrowing her concentration, lending themselves as the catalyst for the trance of sparring.

It was in that flow, the push and pull of strenuous movement, that she felt her bond to the rustling fields of gently wafting white magic snap into place.

Her opponent let out a grunt of surprise as she was finally grappled, the burst of refreshing magic washing over Luz’s body more than enough to drive her forward into the pale girl. They landed in a mad scramble, leaving a disgruntled Amity pinned beneath her tutor’s form as they fell in a heap.

“If this is an excuse to rough me up for the ‘human’ comments from the other day…” The coven apprentice huffed out as she rolled into a seated position. “Then I’d like to point out that Miss Lilith already apologized. And that whaling on your students isn’t exactly conducive to good learning.”

Luz waved off the comment, stumbling to her feet and tugging her partner from the crushed ring of grass they had collapsed upon into a standing position.

“Believe me, it’s not. And seriously – that wouldn’t be the first time someone’s said something hurtful because of who I am.” She rolled the knot of exhaustion from her shoulders, lightly swinging her arms back and forth in an effort to remain limber for their dueling. “You really wouldn’t begin to guess how rude some people can be on other planes. A few comments about being magicless aren’t going to have me swearing bloody vengeance, Amity.”

The witch fell silent at that statement, idly rubbing a sore wrist as she stared towards the dry ground, brow furrowed in thought.

“…Have you really visited other worlds before?” Her tone seemed softened by a war between skepticism and wonder, gaze filled with grave intensity as she met Luz’s eyes. “It’s so hard to – quantify something that huge. Witches know the Human Realm exists, but beyond your home…”

“I sure have.” The mage bobbed her head in a nod, maintaining her earnest expression. “I’ll have to tell you about some of them, in the future. The multiverse isn’t always a nice place, but there’s so much beauty too that it more than makes up for the bad.”

“You would?” The green-haired girl seemed baffled at the genuine sentiment, scanning Luz’s features for any hint of deception. “But – why? You don’t owe me anything, not after today.” A note of strain entered her voice. “And with you knowing Willow…” Her statement was cut short, bitten off in a fit of iron-willed panic, but her tutor had an idea of what she feared airing to the world.

“I think Willow and Gus have their reasons for not getting along with you. And I can’t say whether they’re fair or not.” Her arms crossed over her sternum self-consciously, tapping fingers lightly against one tucked elbow. “But I’ve never let something like that stop me from making friends before. I’ll be the judge of if I want to get to know somebody better.”

“Friends, huh.” Amity’s voice went unnaturally flat at those words, a silent swallow betraying the tightness clawing at her throat. “If that’s the case, then maybe you’re better off listening to what they have to say. Friends and I don’t make for a good mix in the long run.”

The planeswalker tutted at the discomfited response, shaking her head and sending her braid of hair swinging to and fro.

“What did I just say, Little Miss Law Mage? I’m the one that makes those decisions, not anybody else. Including you.” She prodded the tense witch’s forearm with a playful lilt to her voice, letting her know there was no offense taken. Slowly, the other girl relaxed, acknowledging her with a defeated sigh as she nodded in acceptance of the declaration.

“That’s the third time you’ve called me that, you know.”

“Eh?” Luz blinked at the non sequitur comment, pulling back in confusion as the conversation was very clearly jerked away from less hospitable topics.

“’Little Miss Law Mage.’ You said it earlier today, as well.” She enunciated each syllable crisply, and for a moment, the planeswalker feared she would take umbrage with the nickname. But after a moment’s thought, Amity tilted her head contemplatively towards Luz. “Is that what you are, a ‘mage?’ A human that can cast magic?”

“Ah – sort of.” She’d allow Amity to steer away from more sensitive discussions for the moment, but she was determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with the witch and her friends. “A mage is anyone who can use mana to cast spells, regardless of species. And as far as I know, every planeswalker is a mage by default. But to be fair, I've only met a few other people like me. We’re normally pretty rare.”

“Lucky you, then.” There was that dry wit she had come to associate with Amity.

“Yup!” Luz made certain to pop the final syllable of her response, if only to see Amity roll her eyes at the nonchalant utterance.

“Let’s get back to it. We’re burning daylight.”

Several more bouts of sparring passed between the two as they fell into a rhythm. Amity remained on the defensive, making a visible effort to remain calm and draw upon the elements – clearly resisting the urge to throw up a spell circle as she was chased about - even as Luz trickled white mana into her limbs for temporary physical enhancement. It wasn’t the exact same sensation as using red magics in such a manner – instead of providing a burst of burning energy to her form, it left the planeswalker feeling indefatigable, her mind sharp and straining body refreshed periodically while it topped off her internal reserves. She made a mental note to be careful tapping into such a spell for the future, knowing full well that raw magic couldn’t replace true sustenance or physical maintenance for any real period of time.

With each defeat that saw her knocked to the ground, Amity Blight grew more determined to best Luz and prove her skill with wielding magic. The mage was careful not to fall into any obvious patterns with her attacks, but even as she made an effort to remain unpredictable, her opponent was falling into a familiar trance of concentration. She glided over the grass, immaculate footwork keeping her sliding across the ground without a glance backwards to assess obstacles. Movements became smoother, more efficient and focused as she emphasized allowing Luz to tire herself out with a constant barrage of punches.

The human mage felt, more than saw, the moment Amity made her breakthrough. Everything seemed to fall into place within a second’s span, her student’s confidence swelling as she harnessed the pulse of magic around them. An electric crackle of intangible energy split the air around the duo, leaving her just distracted enough to falter in a sweeping kick outward, and giving the coven member the opening she needed. Her face never shifted from its stoic set as one hand snapped up, quick as a cobra, and a bristling coil of snaking white binds flew from an open palm. The spell slammed into Luz’s vulnerable stance, driving her to the ground on her belly as fizzing ropes of light tangled amongst her legs and knocked her askew.

For a moment, only shocked silence ruled the clearing – until Luz rolled over on her back with a winded cheer, punching her arms skyward in victory as Amity gaped at the sight, her gathered ease shattered by the surprise of her intuitive counterattack. The mage tugged on the thin strands of red and green mana in the air, snapping the glowing thread twisted about her ankles as she swept the shorter girl into a tight embrace.

“See, Amity? I knew you could do it!” The planeswalker dropped her blushing student, letting the witch stammer out her shock at the magical accomplishment.

“By the Titan, it just – everything just made sense right there!” The coven deputy swung her hands up wildly, making aborted motions in the direction of her grinning teacher as the astonishment faded into glee. “I can feel it now, all the white magic in the air. I just got so frustrated, and determined to finally hit back, it – wow.” Amity let loose a brief, hysterical peal of laughter as words failed her. “That’s not how spell circles feel at all. A witch’s bile is like a tugging in your gut when you use it too much, not this whole… mental thing.”

“And you know what that means?” She slapped her erstwhile learner on the arm, tone dipping teasingly. “You’re a mage now, too. And – if you can do it once, you can do it again.” Luz backed a few steps away, raising her fists once more. “Hit me with another!”

Amity did, in fact, succeed in throwing another restraining spell her way several times afterwards. She upped the ante on her own end, leaning into the steady stream of white magics for a boost of speed to throw her opponent off. Their bouts were much more evenly matched with the witch’s newfound abilities, however, and the duo found themselves tossed to the flattened grass equally as often with each passing round.

“Alright, alright, let’s take a break.” Luz tapped her extended fingers together in a plea for clemency, panting from the ongoing exertion as the two girls sat where they fell. She and Amity both took a moment to unwind, letting the burn in their muscles subside before resuming any further activity. “Why don’t we check back in with Lilith, see if she’s made any progress on her end? I brought some water bottles, too, since I figured we might get thirsty out here. This summer’s been pretty hot so far.”

Her student gave a short groan of agreement, taking the initiative to clamber to her feet and offer a hand that Luz gratefully accepted. The exhausted pair made their way back to the impromptu camp where the rest of their party remained, finding little out of place from how they had left it. The summoned firebird and jungle elemental had fallen asleep, slumbering in a comfortable pile besides the roughly hewn tabletop while the wily little fire sprite was nowhere in sight. Luz assumed that Lilith would have called for them if anything untoward had occurred, and so let the concern slip from her mind as she slumped onto a rocky stool next to her spirit friends.

Pulling a set of scuffed plastic bottles from the depths of her satchel, Luz passed one of the containers to Amity, receiving a pleased nod in return for her generosity. They sat in much more companionable silence than their earlier encounter at the onset of the day’s lesson, opting to take a brief respite before continuing on with any further efforts.

Once they had drank their fill, luxuriating in the relief of sweet summertime breeze, did Luz lean over to her summoned companions, giving the motionless form of Big Green a few gentle pats on the skull.

“Wakey wakey, buddy.” The elemental groaned like creaking jungle oaks in response, startling the dozing phoenix resting atop its shoulder blades when it shifted sleepily. “Amity needs some practice with her new white spell on somebody other than me. You two mind subbing in for a bit so I can chat with Lilith over there?”

She had to roll her eyes at the matching pair of dramatic groans she received at the request, but with a melodramatic show of collective effort, Odin took wing while his mobile perch lumbered down the hillside towards the depression Luz and Amity had previously occupied. The witch turned to watch them go, hesitating for a moment before the planeswalker shooed her encouragingly. As the pale girl followed in the wake of her new training partners, her teacher retrieved one of the remaining bottles from her pack, its surface slick with accumulated perspiration in the heat.

Lilith Clawthorne didn’t flinch at the unannounced arrival, only acknowledging Luz’s presence with a languid nod as she sat, facing the sloping sprawl of the expansive savannah before them. Some liveliness entered her posture as she was handed a dented plastic canteen, seemingly surprised by the gesture as she uttered a quiet remark of thanks.

“So…” The willowy witch swallowed the mouthful of tepid water, twisting her head around to make eye contact with her guest. “I assume that Amity has already achieved the basics of whatever you were showing her.”

It was a statement, not a question, but Luz gave a hum of affirmation regardless.

“For somebody so skeptical about the spiritual mumbo-jumbo, she sure picked it up pretty quickly.” The young mage paused to take her own lengthy sip of refreshing liquid before continuing onward. “I’d bet that kind of skill is why she’s in the Emperor’s Coven.”

A small, warm smile stole over the elder Clawthorne’s features at the compliment to her apprentice.

“Indeed. Miss Blight is a credit to our organization, and her family name. I am quite proud of her.” On some level, it was almost shocking to Luz that such a formal figure would so openly discuss her relationships with a relative stranger. But then again, maybe it was just the culture? Eda had been awfully open with her from the onset, after all.

“How about you? Any progress with your meditating?”

At the reminder of her own efforts, the coven head gave a small, put-upon sigh as she looked down at her folded hands morosely.

“It seems that the student has outstripped the master, these days. I’ve had markedly less luck than my deputy in casting even the smallest of spells with this… ‘mana’ you spoke of.”

“We’ve just gotta find your groove, is all!” She gave Lilith’s slim shoulder a friendly tap of her knuckles, smiling at the bemused expression given in return. “What if we try and do something with the whole ‘theme’ that white’s got going on.”

Luz folded her calloused hands around a lifted knee, staring into the distant as she contemplated what might assist her second student for the day.

“I feel like all we’ve ever talked about the few times I’ve seen you is your sister, but… white magic isn’t just about uniformity, or order. It can be about family too. How you know someone – or even a group of people – really well, and what you feel when you’re with them. So -” She angled herself towards the attentive witch, raising her brows in an expectant look. “Have any funny stories about Eda to share? Maybe talking about it will help you figure something out.”

The older woman shifted carefully, a bevy of emotions flicking over her features before smoothing out into polite neutrality once more, with only a hint of amusem*nt in her verdant eyes.

“Truly? Well. If you believe so.” She cleared her throat in mild discomfort, even as her eyes darted back and forth across her lap. “It has been some time since I’ve had someone available to embarrass my sibling in front of.” The statement came with a sense of hopeful humor, an upward tick of her lips forming as she warmed to the idea. “Let me see. There was that one instance in which Edalyn began an uprising of abominations in our high school after another girl made off with my lunch money…”

Luz listened in comfortable silence as the coven leader picked up momentum with her storytelling, watching the older witch’s changing expressions as she fondly reminisced of days long past with a younger Owl Lady. The mage noted how the years seemed to fall away from the woman’s face as she spoke, stress lines flattening out in her brow as she let loose good-natured chuckles at the events she recalled. The reactions seemed subconscious – Lilith was careful to steer away from anything too revealing or embarrassing, for both herself and Eda, but she clearly enjoyed poking fun at her sibling’s expense even in the company of the woman’s companions.

She wasn’t quite certain what it said, though, that all of the happier times the coven witch could recall came solely from their childhood on the Isles.

The young mage found herself letting slip a few giggles of her own at points, a fact that put her student at ease in her recollections. Without interrupting the older woman’s stream of consciousness, Luz aligned her posture to mimic Lilith’s primly crossed legs, deliberately setting to work on breathing exercises while they conversed. She gathered the taut bands of white mana circling the fields in low, sweeping gusts, plucking on the strings of power as she crafted werelights with her bare hands. The pale coven head paused momentarily, watching the spellcasting with interest, before Luz gave her an encouraging gesture to continue.

As she hoped, the witch worked to imitate the posture and balanced breathing she had assumed, her lengthy fingers twitching subconsciously as she was left awash in the push and pull of mana as they spoke of their shared experiences with Edalyn Clawthorne. After a time, Luz added her own stories to the faltering conversation, filling the air with small tales of the Owl Lady’s quirks and regular activities around the chaotic household she surrounded herself with. Lilith seemed to hang off of her every word, eager for a glimpse into a life she had long been distanced from.

Time flowed loosely about the pair while they sat on the edge of a sea of grasses and burrows. The mage had not expected to find such decent company in the form of the dour head of the Emperor’s Coven, yet Lilith Clawthorne seemed more than willing to talk about her sister given the opportunity.

The brilliant rays of the sun had just begun to trace the curve of the horizon, Luz’s gut growling with hunger from a lack of a lunch break, when she saw the tall witch beside her stiffen. Her upturned palm spasmed as currents of mana kicked up about them, and above Lilith’s clutched fingers the ball of white mana condensed into a thin layer of opaque, hexagonal energy.

The tail end of a story regarding Eda’s attempts to adopt numerous forms of wildlife cut off in bewilderment as they stared at her open hand, gazing at the gentle shimmer of the small panel with surprise following its abrupt generation.

“Huh. I guess it worked after all.” Luz gave a low, shocked mutter at the sight, tilting her head contemplatively at the older woman.

“Yes. It certainly seems so.” Lilith spoke dreamily, running her eyes over the windblown fields afar with new perspective. “Goodness, it feels as if I’m trying to… cram awareness of an entire stretch of the Isles into a single person’s mind. It’s -” Her head gave a frantic shake as she threw off the disorientation. “Overwhelming, at first. Yet I can feel the effect subsiding with every moment.”

“Trust me, you get used to it after you visit a few different places. It’s especially weird once you start learning how to use multiple colors of mana.” She paused, gather her thoughts as she ran over the scenario at hand. “So, clearly something changed. We spent plenty of time talking about your and Eda’s shenanigans over the years – and that looks like the start of a shield spell, or something. Can you pick out what you really felt when everything clicked?”

“I was…” Lilith’s brow furrowed harshly in consideration. “I was feeling protective. Of Edalyn.”

Age-old sorrow slid in to place visibly as the older woman curled in her herself, locking her arms about her knees as they drew up to her chest in discomfort, the ease of their discussion slipping away like a breeze.

“That was not always a concern of mine, you know. When we were children, it was so – difficult to see my sister, young she may have been, as someone that would need my assistance. It always seemed to me that I was the one in need of rescue at all hours. Left behind by a sibling stronger than me in every regard.”

Her open hand ghosted over the miniature shield, beckoning to the construct as additional panels spread along its tapered edge, sprouting like organic growths from its core.

“I realized, far too late, that that was not the case. And Edalyn has suffered for my mistakes. My negligence.” The shield snapped fully into being with a clap, billowing upwards as an enclosed dodecahedron of glittering light. “It is… hard to acknowledge such things. Especially to my sister herself. She does not understand, nor appreciate, the lengths I have gone to as head of the Emperor’s Coven to provide her assistance without overt interference.” Lilith’s voice fell into a low whisper. “But I cannot stop trying.”

“…Maybe you’re both still pretty similar, these days.” The coven witch’s eyes flickered to Luz’s face at the comment, prompting her to explain the sentiment. “Eda wouldn’t let me go anywhere with you and Amity if I couldn’t prove I had a backup plan, in case you tried to haul me off to jail or whatever.”

She didn’t indicate them in any real way, but Lilith’s sharp gaze still turned to where her apprentice was dueling a pair of energetic elementals at the foot of their hilltop.

“Ah. Your… summoned creatures. I see.”

“They almost weren’t enough, too.” The mage shook her head ruefully, giving a dry bark of laughter at her own words. “She was gonna force poor Owlbert to follow me all day, but I sent him home. I bet if she didn’t have lessons with Willow today, Eda would’ve -”

Her words died off abruptly as she was internally, viciously reminded by her lagging memory just who she was speaking to and what Lilith Clawthorne’s position entailed regarding wild witches.

Jaw clacking shut with a click, Luz glanced fervently at the coven leader’s expression, her face flushed bloodless – only finding, to her confusion, a look of long-suffering exasperation.

“I should assume that you are referring to one Willow Park, the former classmate of my deputy?” Her free hand came up to palm her face, letting loose a wispy sigh between splayed fingers. “Well, that would certainly explain Amity’s insistence on the weekend shift for observation duties, if those are the visiting hours for my sister’s apprentice.”

“You, uh. Aren’t going to arrest her?” This entire interaction had been quite outside of the mage’s expectations, but the older woman’s lack of righteous indignity struck as notably odd.

“It would be quite hypocritical to speak of protecting Edalyn, only to turn right around and go after her student, when Miss Blight is clearly attempting to shield Miss Park from the consequences of her actions.” The witch’s response was painfully wry, though her expression remained thoroughly unamused. “It appears I shall have to speak with Amity yet again regarding her efforts at subtlety.”

“Ok, well. Good. I guess.” She kept a careful eye on the pale woman seated beside her, in case she rapidly decided to shift priorities and announce her desire to see the Owl House’s inhabitants in chains or some such.

“Are you aware, Luz Noceda, of why Willow Park stopped attending Hexside School of Magics and Demonics halfway through her tenure?” The question struck her as out of place, but the planeswalker opted to err on the side of caution and give the witch a perfunctory nod. “Then perhaps you are wondering why I would take Amity under my wing, with such a – distinct hiccup in her record.”

“Kinda, I mean… I don’t really know what Amity did that made Willow leave. But I can guess at some of it, at least.” Another piece of the puzzle that was almost certainly a long and sordid history between friends and acquaintances of hers.

“Nor do I.” Lilith raised a brow at her look of befuddlement. “My deputy is allowed to retain her privacy, you know. She will come to me if and when she feels ready. But I admit to having a historically low estimation of repeat offenders regarding bullying following my time in education.”

“Then – why Amity?”

“Because when I took her on as an intern for our organization, when we spoke about her schooling career and life at home, I saw a young witch hiding regrets behind a veneer of superiority.” Lilith spoke boldly and plainly, much like the girl they openly discussed. Luz wondered who had adopted their speech from who, in the end. “I saw a bright girl headed for the same mistakes I myself am guilty off. And I thought – both then and now – that Amity Blight is someone worthy of helping to better herself.”

For a moment, only the rustle of tall reeds stood between them.

“When I talk to her, I get that feeling, too.” Luz offered the admission freely, even if she didn’t fully comprehend what Lilith was implying – or her full thoughts on the matter.

Her agreement seemed to satisfy the coven leader, however, and she directed an agreeing tilt of her head towards the young mage.

“I am glad to hear that others can see it, as well.” A sliver of pain filtered into her voice. “The Coven does not offer much in the way of friendships, much less with those of a similar age for an intelligent new apprentice. Our positions can be quite cutthroat at -”

Shrieking, high pitched and inhuman, startled both Luz and Lilith from their vulnerable conversation as they turned in sync towards the disturbance.

“…Uh.”

Evidently, while they had been conversing, the Ravnican fire sprite the planeswalker was so fond of had found its way into the den of some small creature, akin to an aggressive prairie dog, and had riled the poor thing horribly in its exploration. She caught sight of a writhing bundle of flames scrabbling from a scorched hole in the earth, yipping in fear as the gnashing teeth of a furious plain dweller came crawling out behind the fleeing elemental.

“Whoa, hey, you don’t need to be bugging the animals!” Luz stepped forward, dedicating herself to a lunge at her burning companion – only to discover, much too late, that it was lashing out in a panic.

A blistering corona of fire expanded in a blink of an eye from its center of mass, scaring the critter back into its blasted hole as the mage flinched, trying to backpedal –

A clawed hand yanked her backwards in a tumble, even while a segmented dome flashed into existence around the roaring lashes of flame. She couldn’t prevent the fall that dragged Lilith into a tangled heap on the rough hillside, leaving the pair panting and wide-eyed at the near miss. Her elemental friend raged and screeched beneath the steadfast cover, letting its fury wash over the opaque walls of mana without thought.

“N-Nice reaction time, Lilith.” Luz rolled off of her savior, grasping her chest as she struggled to draw in air once more. “I was almost overdone t-toast, right there.”

“Think… think nothing of it.” The pale witch didn’t stutter, though she sounded shaken nonetheless. “I doubt Edalyn would appreciate us having to return you with third-degree burns to her house. Just imagine the stench.”

She gave a weak laugh at the attempted joke, finally bringing her frantic heartbeat under control just as Amity and her sparring partners came rushing back up the slope.

“Are you alright? What just exploded over here!?” The coven deputy seemed uncertain who to check on first, helping both of her companions to their feet in turn as she fretted over the pair.

Lilith waved the concerned girl off, giving her a wan smile in response as Luz mentally sawed through the spell tethering her little friend to the Boiling Isles with a displeased scowl. It was dumb of her to let him out of her sight for so long. And she was even making headway towards figuring out more of the whole ‘Lilith and Eda’ situation, too…

“Perhaps we should break here for the day.” Lilith’s smooth voice sliced through the mage’s aggravation, causing her to turn back towards the coven witches once more. “My apprentice and I both have a set of new and interesting spells to practice with, not to mention I did not think to prepare any lunch beforehand. I expect we are all getting quite hungry.”

She considered pushing the point, maybe trying to get the three of them to attempt their own spar before exiting the fields – but if Luz were honest with herself, the scare with the sprite had ruffled her confidence for the moment. Better not to press on when they were no longer at their best performance, especially if it meant someone getting hurt.

Odin and the jungle spirit were dismissed with a murmured farewell apiece, as she ran her hands over their sides in slight apology for the abrupt ending to their day. A few bursts of magic saw their table smoothed back over, and the smoldering remnants of the contained flash fire brushed over with dry soil to prevent any undesired flare ups.

With their final cleanup efforts completed, the trio of mages began the notable trek back to Bonesborough on foot, as Luz began a discussion regarding the types of magic they now had potential access to.

An early return to the Owl House allowed Luz the possibility of witnessing her friend and host in action as they exercised the magics more familiar to witches of the Isles. She had crested the hilltop approach to the homestead just in time to spot a distant transaction involving a collapsing column of purple muck, and the faint whispers of far-off discussion in response.

The Owl Lady and her young apprentice turned as one at her arrival, giving her a wave and shout of greeting as the mage trudged up to the scarred front yard, exhaustion tugging at the edge of her senses.

“Hey there, kiddo!” Eda called, taking in her ruffled and sweat-drenched outfit with a co*cked brow. “You’re back sooner than I was expecting. I’m hoping all the grass stains aren’t ‘cuz you had to fight off a bunch of guards?”

“Nah, the only ‘fighting’ was Amity and I sparring while we tried to give her the push she needed to figure out the white magic thing.” A yawn broke through her sentence, forcing her stiff jaw to crack with a muffled pop. “Though I did, um, almost explode. Just a little bit.”

“Uh huh.” It was clear that neither witch really had an appropriate response to the blandly given statement. “Welp. I guess you can tell us about that at dinner. Feel free to stick around and gawk, or go take a shower. Your pick.”

“I think I’ll hang out and watch. I haven’t really gotten to see any real, ‘witch-y’ magic in full just yet.” Some energy flushed back into her system at the suggestion, making Luz perk up with interest in her eyes. “What’re you guys tackling today?”

“Abomination magic.” Willow sighed miserably, glancing at the pathetic pile of ooze threatening her boots. “I was never really good at it in school, and that’s kind of stuck for the last few years. So, Eda and I are trying to get me on the right track.”

Luz winced at the dejection in the blue-haired girl’s tone, patting her on the arm consolingly before stepping towards the porch, finding a seat atop the rough stonework.

“Oof. Sorry to hear that, Willow. Just give me a heads-up if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Huh. Amity and I were just talking about this stuff today, too. What a small world.

Thankfully, the remainder of the day passed in relative peace. The mage watched her companion’s lesson until the sun began its retreat behind the forest canopy, providing some minor observations and suggestions as her tutoring continued on through the day. She broke away briefly for a late midday meal, waving off Eda’s comment about ruining supper for herself with a carefree shrug before returning to her snack.

As she sank into her squashed bedroll that evening, the details of the day niggled at the back of her dozing mind while she ran over the lesson she had provided the coven witches. She’d been quietly relieved that there hadn’t been any major hiccups in their initial usage of mana, especially after Eda’s ongoing difficulties. Perhaps it helped that they were all quite experienced magic users up to that point.

It certainly took a disoriented and excitable Luz Noceda, fresh from the steps of her family home, quite a while to get a handle on casting even simple spells.

A small smile stole over her lips as she drifted off, vague thoughts of a career in teaching eager young students slipping away into the evening with her conscious mind.

The world of her dreams had shifted once more.

Growths of plant and soil ran rampant across the sunken spine of the decrepit Titan. Before, Luz had not been able to find the floor of the ethereal jungle canopy, the base of the world fallen away into the void.

Now mountains and hills rolled over the skeletal spikes of the giant’s ribs. Their slopes were coated in fertile, unnatural growth, thick swatches of wheat and weed mingling with bristling expanses of tropical woodlands.

Rain filled the dreamland plains with thick, muddy pools of stained water that threatened overspill with every passing second. The only force capable of taming the wildlands of the Titan nightscape were the flickers of distant wildfires on the horizon, flaring into and out of sight at the capricious will of unchained magic.

The dream had not yet found a modicum of balance.

Luz felt much less foggy-headed than she had in past encounters, the curtain of slumbering acceptance that painted the eldritch mindscape in peace pulled from her soul. She couldn’t fight back the trickle of wariness as she stumbled along the uneven path of vertebrae once more, an indelible feeling drawing her ever onwards in spite of caution.

Miles fell away into seconds of travel, and before long she found herself cresting the collar of the rotting calcium framework that birthed the Isles. The curvature of the spine fell unnaturally away into a steep slope, cascading downwards in a rain-slick hill that entered the gaping jaw of the Titan far below.

The young mage didn’t know how long she spent crawling into the blackened cave of the fallen god’s mouth, feeling her way through the dark with one hand on the moist rocks bracketing her as the sounds of raging fires and storms were muffled by stone. Her only guide was the pull in her sternum, the thread of intuition dragging her along unwillingly.

Voices fizzed along the edge of her hearing, chattering brokenly in the void.

“Close. So close.”

“Further. Onwards…”

“It comes. For us?”

“For itself.”

“Child.”

“Closer yet…”

She could’ve sworn that, somewhere in the cavern she had traversed, a set of footsteps harried her own.

A bobbing fraction of flickering light stretched out from the dark, reaching for Luz from the depths of a descending tunnel. Her pace picked up as she eagerly sought the sanctity of clear vision once more.

Her stumbling put the planeswalker at the foot of a great door, its grand archways and sweeping carvings several heads taller than her own stature. Its surface seethed with indistinct life, a facsimile of crawling things writhing in the abyss.

Without a word or a touch, the hinges swung inwards, silent as the grave. As clear an invitation as any.

The doorway revealed a grand underground cavern beyond its portal, leaving Luz’s breath stuck in her throat at the majesty of the sight. The ceiling of the cavern opened to the warped sky above, allowing a drizzle of freezing precipitation to slither into the cracks of the subterranean world beneath. The chamber was ringed in coffins and arcane symbology, all centered about a massive swamp oak that sprouted from a bubbling morass of lichens and fouled soil at its roots.

The close of the doors behind her was much louder than their opening.

She whirled about, staring at the sealed entryway with a lurch of ominous foreboding. Luz made to take a step towards the portal, to try and force apart the jaws of this trap – only to stop cold as a resounding series of cracks echoed about the room.

The decayed skulls of leering humanoid skeletons forced their way through the wood and stone confines of their resting places, throwing shards of material to the floor as they sensed the presence of a living being. The mage clamped her hands over her mouth as a terrified shriek left her lips, watching the slow crawl of the living dead with growing terror.

Worst of all, every one of their jaws worked tirelessly, mindlessly calling out to the mage as their cold fingers opened in a horrid yearning for her warm flesh.

“Life…”

“Warmth.”

“She comes! Newnewnew!”

“Youngblood…”

“North. North. NORTH. NORTH!”

The screaming was growing in volume. The corpses synchronized their chanting, shouting the cardinal direction at a petrified Luz as they drew closer.

When was the nightmare going to stop!?

They were getting too close.

She could wake up any time now!

Their molding bones wrapped about her arms, thrown up in desperate defense.

Wake up, wake up, wakeupwakeupwakeup –

Icy-blue eyes snapped open in the dim light of the evening chambers, preceding a rippling scowl on his lips by scant seconds.

One deft hand plucked the cowl from its resting spot on his bedside stand, slipping the comforting embrace of mask and cloak over his features as the figure stood, shucking off the sweat-stained covers with a flick of the wrist.

Cool sapphire illumination played across the walls softly, providing plenty of assistance to his vision as he gazed out of the tallest spire in the fortress.

Sometimes, surveying one’s domain was all the reassurance a soul needed that everything was right with the world.

Except, clearly, the events of his slumber indicated that there was something amiss in the Boiling Isles.

It had been some time since the Titan had blessed his dreamscape with fragments of its will. Longer yet since he had been forced to witness the cursed path before him now, deep within the gullet of his resting God.

The slippery stones did not disturb his pace, nor did the lack of lighting impede his speed. Even the passage of many years could not dull the familiarity of something so horribly scarred.

A sound of pattering, uncertain footsteps raced ahead of his, frantic like prey as he aimlessly chased some unseen soul through ancient passages.

His arrival at the blasted doorway, etched perfectly by hate into memory, was heralded by the closing of its enormous eaves in his face. The majestic stonework of masons long dead peered down at him, judgement in cold stone eyes and taunting abstract swirls.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the scripture of devoted servants was overwritten by a foul, hasty scrawl of handwriting.

NORTH. NORTH. NORTH. NORTH.

He scoffed – as if such a paltry reminder of this untended grave’s resting place were necessary.

One hand, encased in chain mail, descended upon the door hesitantly. There was no burn nor acid horror awaiting his presence now. Only cold stone that drew forth bitter, aging resignation.

When he pressed the forehead of his hammered mask to its surface, he even swore the ghosts of his own agonized screams resonated from the other side.

Once, such portents would have filled him with righteous energy. Every vision would be treated with due reverence, as befitting the messages of his Lord.

Now after years of stony quiet, they only sparked aggravated indecision. And… curiosity, perhaps, as to what other paltry scraps the Titan might be willing to share?

The timing was not lost on him. Whisperings of his agents brought a hint of odd tidings, the gentle upswell heralding a rip-current in the world far below the palace. These visions would necessitate research, for as much as he resented even thinking of that horrid place.

As his eyes roamed the blackened fields afar from his chilled windowsill, Belos considered which of his loyal servants might be suited for such a dangerous undertaking. Lilith’s latest batch of submitted reports floated from the penumbral depths of his memory.

He had a few candidates in mind.

Chapter 16

Chapter Text

Vivid nightmares of reanimated cadavers clawing at one’s cowering body had a bad tendency to ruin a good night’s sleep for most people.

Thus, it was little surprise that Luz came stumbling down the twisting staircase with dark bags ringing her eyes, even while she rubbed the stubborn crust from their lids. The Owl Lady and King of Demons gave her a faint look of concern from their perch at the kitchen island, Eda quirking a brow upwards as the drowsy planeswalker fell into the seat at her side with a tremendous yawn.

“Rough night, girly?” Her tone belayed incredulity at the sight of her exhausted guest. “I thought you’d mastered the art of sleeping like the dead already.”

The young mage twitched at the sentence, wrapping her arms about her head as she groaned into the cool tabletop.

“No allusions to ‘corpses’ today, please.” Sweetly chilled lacquer counter chased the early summer heat from Luz’s cheeks, leaving her free to mumble miserably. “Not really in the mood for thinking about that kind of thing.”

“Ah. I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess ‘bad dreams,’ then.” The older woman’s voice held a faint strand of sympathy. “Wanna talk about it? I heard that helps from somewhere. Eh, probably.”

“It was a nightmare, Eda, not a traumatic event.” In spite of the skepticism, Luz dragged herself up from the table, planting her chin in open palms as she looked to her roommates. “I’ve had something like it a few times now. I’ll be walking along on some… trippy version of the Boiling Isles. Except it’s not a chain of islands, just the Titan’s skeleton.”

“Really?” King’s voice ticked up in interest, gaze focused on the exhausted girl. “Sounds pretty creepy to me. The Titan’s body hasn’t been a real body in a long time, if you know what I mean. The Isles didn’t just pop up overnight.”

“Yeah. And normally…” Her brow furrowed in concentration, recalling the fading events of the prior night and the dream’s older iterations. “The dream just ends when I walk up to the skull. One time some words came out of it. But last night, I – went into its mouth.”

“The north end of the Isles is a big mess of caves and nasty, muggy woods.” The Owl Lady seemed somewhat intrigued at the thought, stroking her chin in contemplation as she gave the younger woman her undivided attention. “What did you find there? Anything valuable?”

“The path went down into a dark tunnel that ended at a huge stone door.” Merely thinking about the events of the horrid dreamscape was enough to send a shudder down her back. “When it opened up, I was in a big chamber with a tree in the center, and a bunch of coffins. All of them broke apart, and -” She really did shiver at that recollection. “Dios Bueno, it was like someone walked over my own grave. A whole horde of skeletons jumped out and came right for me.”

“What happened after that?” The diminutive demon seemed disturbingly fixated on the grim outcome of her dreams. They might’ve needed to limit his caffeine intake for the mornings.

“Nothing much, thankfully.” She shot him a flat look, folding her arms atop the counter. “I woke up just as they grabbed me.”

“Hrmm…” Their host made a twirling gesture, summoning a worn stretch of parchment from the depths of the Owl House that she smoothed out before them, tracing unknowable paths across the aging scrawls with a lengthy talon. “I never spotted anything like that in my time poking around up there. Just about anything of interest out that way not nailed down got yoinked or burned a long time ago, back when Emperor Bonehead was still gung-ho on tackling every wild witch in the world.”

“What were you doing up there, anyway?” The tired mage leaned over to examine the worn map – for that’s what it was, a top-down sketch of the northern islands – in an attempt to decipher the curling scrawl of notes wrapping around inked landmarks and townships.

“When you’ve spent the better half of your life trying to break a nasty curse, kid, you tend to get your nose into a lot of different places.” The pale witch let the map snap closed with another flicker of a spell circle, sending it back into storage without a second glance.

“I guess so.” Finally, the Owl Lady’s train of thought clicked with Luz’s sleep-addled mind. “Wait – do you think my dreams actually mean something?”

“Why not? Weird, prophetic visions aren’t exactly unheard of when it comes to folk that use magic.” Eda’s exposed shoulders rolled in a carefree shrug. “’Sides, I was kinda curious about what you might be tapping into, since your dream sounded sort of familiar.”

“Oh, great. Now she’s cursed, and a paranoid mess.” King seemed duly unimpressed by the statement.

“And what would you know, shortstack?” The witch puffed up like an offended housecat, rounding on the deadpan demon. “Not like you could even figure out how to shoot sparks from a wand if you tried.”

As a spike of discomfort shot through her temple at the burgeoning argument, Luz reflected that she spent way too much of her time stopping Eda and King from baiting one another into insipid debates.

“Before we get too off-track here, can we please cover the part where, apparently, you’ve been having the same kooky dreams I have?” Grinding her knuckles into the side of her aching braincase did little to dispel her exhaustion, but it did help focus her mind on the conversation.

The pale woman waved a carefree hand, shaking her head in dismissal of the stated concern.

“It’s only happened, like, twice so far. And they weren’t super intense either. Not a big deal, just might be worth looking into.” Bony elbows came to rest on the table as her chin landed in open palms. “I get more interesting nighttime ‘visions’ from going a little too heavy on the appleblood sometimes. Seriously, Luz – don’t get yourself worked up over a bunch of magical hoopla.”

“What if it actually means something, though?” The young mage’s brow quirked challengingly at the blasé statement. “Am I just supposed to ignore it and hope it stops?”

“It’ll come in time, if it ever does. Not like you’re predicting somebody’s death or whatever.” The Owl Lady’s exposed shoulders jumped in a loose shrug. “Now, why don’t we get some good ol’ coffee in your system? Maybe you’ll be a little less cranky with a little caffeine.”

“I’m not being ‘cranky.’” Luz gave a petulant mutter, but didn’t resist when the older witch plopped a steaming mug of bitter black draught before her. The liquid was on the hairy edge of scalding, and tasted akin to dirty tarmac, but the planeswalker quaffed it down without complaint, tacking on a murmur of thanks to her host. She’d had much worse, seated around distant campfires in years past.

She wasn’t so certain on her companion’s advice regarding strange visions and dreams, but Luz would drop it. For the moment.

Breakfast proceeded silently after that point; a heaping pile of steaming eggs delivered to each of their spots at the table by Eda as the trio enjoyed the break of a new day. However, the buzz of their prior conversation had left a number of disquieting thoughts rattling around in Luz’s mind, and she opted to relieve them with a question.

“So, we got to see the trash slugs this weekend.” She turned to face the Owl Lady, scooping the last mouthful of her meal with a dented fork as she did so. “You mentioned some other sources of human junk before? Is there anything we could start looking into next?”

“There’s some other stuff, yeah – kinda lowkey though. Looking to jump ship already, kid?” The older woman’s tone indicated her query was joking, but the mage was left stumbling for a response when the sentence held no following comment.

“It’s not that. Just – I haven’t seen my mami in almost half a decade. She’s… probably worried sick.” The globule of scrambled eggs fell back to the chipped plate, her fork skirting through the morsel loosely as she felt her appetite flee at the thought. ‘Worried’ very likely did not come even close to describing her mother’s emotional state, with her daughter missing for so many years.

At least – she hoped.

Repressed fears threatened to uncurl from their dark corner in her mindscape in the ensuing quiet, but the thoughtful hum of her host brought Luz back to the present once more.

“…Figured you were interested in a way to the Human Realm.” She couldn’t properly identify the emotions filtering through Eda’s speech at that moment. “Why don’t you just ‘planeswalk’ back? Not like anything’s stopping you.”

“I wish. There’s – something wrong with Earth.” Her empty hands clenched tightly with her frustration, grasping at nothing. “Every time I’ve tried to get there, it doesn’t let me. There’s some weird magical barrier that’s tough to describe.” Open palms fell to the tabletop, limp with helplessness. “The closest I’ve ever gotten took me here, to the Boiling Isles. And if I leave again – I’m not sure if I can return. Not on my own, anyway.”

The statement seemed to startle Eda, leaving the witch blinking in surprise as she digested the girl’s words. Luz winced internally, just a bit – she hadn’t meant for the breakfast chatter to get so heavy, so quickly.

“That’s scary to hear.” The furry form of the King of Demons sat up in his chair, pitching in his own two cents. “Magic powerful enough to block off a whole world to the only people that can travel between? There’s no way something like that is natural.”

“I know.” Luz groused, glaring at the innocent kitchen sink in thought. “And because of that, I have to find another way. There’s definitely been other methods of travelling between worlds before – some other ‘walkers I met during that big battle on Ravnica mentioned a portal being stolen from some place called ‘Kaladesh,’ which let that evil dragon bring a bunch of his minions over. I just – need to figure it out, is all.”

The flat ache pounding at her temple only compounded the mage’s growing frustration, fingers tapping in agitation across the table.

“Yeah… sounds pretty mysterious to me.” The diminutive creature seemed to be eyeballing the Owl Lady, but the mage was too busy stewing in her own poor mood to badger him about it. Finally, her last clump of cooked egg found its way into her mouth as she stood, taking their dirtied plates to the sink without comment.

“Hey, uh, meant to tell you.” The Owl Lady flagged her down as Luz turned back to the table, communications scroll flickering into view above her open palm. “Gus Porter called yesterday, wanted you to ring him up when you got the chance – something about doing a ‘show and tell’ for his old school’s human club, I think.”

“Really? Huh.” She scooped up the floating device, opening its screen with a gentle swipe. “I was pretty interested in getting to visit this magic school you guys all went to as kids…”

Tapping through the shimmering interface, following crumbling memories of navigating a clunky smartphone as a child, Luz dragged up Gus’ contact information and sent a call out to his scroll. It only took a few moments of shrill ringing for the line to catch, displaying a drowsy boy at his counter with emptied cereal bowl in hand.

“Hello, Porter resi- wait a sec.” The younger witch squinted at the miniature display, fighting through the early morning fog. “Oh, heyya Luz! I guess Eda gave you my message?”

“Hi, Gus. She wasn’t super clear on what you were asking the other day…?” Her face scrunched up in a look of consternation at the Owl Lady, who traded her an innocent expression in return.

“Oh, that’s fine. So -” His hands clapped together, shoulders straightening as the boy launched into a practiced spiel. “I was the Human Appreciation Society president back in the day, when I was attending Hexside. And I maybe, just a little bit…” Gus’s fingers fell apart, closing together once more into a tiny pinch. “Might’ve told the group that I had met an actual flesh-and-blood human. And that you’d be willing to talk to them.”

“Ugh.” The mage’s open hand slapped against her face, covering the exasperated expression she knew inhabited her features. “Gus, buddy, I’m always up for helping my friends out. Just, please run this kinda stuff by me ahead of time, y’know?”

“That’s fair.” The male witch winced at her reaction, folding his arms sheepishly. “This one’s on me – I got ahead of myself with bragging to my pals in the club. Sorry, Luz.”

“It’s fine. Really.” She waved off the boy’s descending guilt, putting on a determined face as she gazed down into the scroll’s screen. “When did you want to do a meet and greet? Sometime this week, I’m guessing?”

“They’d be available after school hours tomorrow, if that works for you.” Gus trailed off hopefully, eyebrows raised in question. “Oh! And Willow wanted to sit in for this, by the way. She seems to think it’s going to be funny to watch.” His eyes rolled in aggravation at the sentiment.

“Perfect. Come pick me up after lunch – and maybe once we’ve finished, you can make it up to me with a tour of your high school.” Her tone rose teasingly, accompanying a sly smirk.

“Sounds good! See you tomorrow.” Her friend gave a two-fingered salute, the feed from his scroll cutting off abruptly afterwards. Luz passed the device back to its owner, even as she ruminated on Willow’s presence in the school that she had once departed under duress. Hopefully she would be comfortable with returning to Hexside, even if it was only for a short visit.

“Alright. Back on topic – Eda.” The young planeswalker gestured with clasped finger guns at the seated witch, startling her from scrolling through the enchanted communications device. “What’s the next step in the whole ‘Earth investigation’ deal?”

“Right. And, that would be…” The pale woman fiddled with her phone-analogue, searching for some lost tidbit of knowledge. “This weekend, actually! We’ve got a travelling night fair coming through in a couple days.” Scroll dismissed with a wave, the Owl Lady swapped her attention back to her housemates. “It’s the perfect place to pick up human scrap, magical rumors, you name it. There’s a pretty solid chance we could dig something up when they roll around.”

“Hmm…” She couldn’t quash the bubble of rising disappointment at the lack of a concrete lead, but shook herself clear of the irritation regardless. “Well, it’s better than nothing. Sounds like it might be fun, at the least.”

King turned from staring at Eda in response to her comment, excitement growing as he nodded to the human mage.

“Oh yeah, that kind of thing’s the best! All sorts of games, food, shows – you name it, they’ve probably got it. Especially since it sits right in the middle of the local Night Market, too.” He gestured vaguely to the witch beside him. “Eda and I like to visit and see the sights when they show up every few months. There’s loads of cool stuff for sale, with all the people in town -”

“A whole lotta suckers to fleece for their cash, too.” The pale woman gave a fond chuckle, lounging against the table.

“Yeah, okay, that too.” The demon’s brilliant yellow eyes rolled at Eda’s avaricious comment. “The point is, it’ll be a lot of fun. And we might even be able to dig up some Human Realm junk, too.”

“Alright, well. Let’s give it a shot then.” Their enthusiasm was just a tad infectious, causing Luz to perk up somewhat at the discussion as she let the ill feelings of her failed journey home fade away.

“But first, we’ve got a whole bunch of crap to do today.” The Owl Lady shot up following her proclamation, moving to leaf through a calendar taped to the side of the old refrigerator. “If we want to hit up the fair, market day for the salvage we unload will have to happen a little earlier. Which means we should get to work on cleaning some of that junk for sale.” She glanced at Luz, swinging a hand towards the basem*nt door. “You mind starting us off, kiddo? King and I can meet you down there in a minute, gotta make some room up here first.”

“Just point me in the right direction, chief.” She gave them a sloppy salute, a little prickle of dread at the coming exertion brushing across her conscience.

“Could you do the old furniture first?” King’s large, expressive eyes directed her a plaintive plea. “I always hate dragging that stuff up here. Feels like I’m gonna get squished every time Eda puts me in the back when we pull it up the stairs.”

“Pfft, you’d be fine! Not like something as small as some crappy upholstery would actually crush you, or anything.” The Owl Lady blew off his fears with a wave of her hand, turning to meet the mage’s tired gaze. “But yeah, if you could get on those first, it’d be appreciated.”

A thumbs-up was given in lieu of a verbal response, leaving Luz free to give a quiet groan as she marched into the yawning maw of the dimly lit basem*nt. She heard the pair strike up a low conversation as she left the room, but the thick wood planks of the closing door muffled any distinct words behind her. Putting the observation from her mind, the planeswalker descended into the subterranean chamber.

Physical labor was a real pain when you were beginning the day already exhausted.

The remainder of Eda’s aged furnishings stockpile lay at the rear of the underground room, stacked haphazardly with cobwebs and thick clouds of wafting dust choking the poorly filtered air. Luz made a mental note to question Eda on how she might be able to replicate the spell she’d used while they had worked over the trash slug for the future.

It wasn’t until she’d made an aborted grab at an empty pocket, half-remembered days in her childhood home bubbling across the surface of her mind, that Luz had a discomfiting realization: she didn’t own a music player, anymore.

In fact, her old player had been lost well before her flight from Earth, dropped somewhere in a hallway or field and left to rot. It had been a hand-me-down, a remnant of an old purchase by her mami who had been too busy to make use of it in her hectic life as a nurse. Handling the Owl Lady’s scroll had brought buried muscle memory rushing to the fore, and leaving her empty-handed as she stood in the forlorn basem*nt with an unearthed sense of loss.

How long had it been, since she’d last heard music from her younger years? An eclectic mix of songs in smooth English and warbling Española, drawn from her mother’s own developed lyrical palette. Luz hadn’t fully understood the hole in her heritage until that moment, hands searching fruitlessly for a device that didn’t exist as she thought, offhandedly, how nice it would be to have some tunes to while away the long hours of work.

She attacked the stack of rickety furniture with renewed vigor after a moment’s hesitation, making a concerted effort to forge the sting of loss into a spear of determination. The sooner she completed the menial tasks before her, the faster she could return to researching a way home.

It was time to get things back on track.

“Whoa. That is… a lot bigger than my high school.”

An intrigued hum was the only response she received from Gus as they beheld the towering monolith of Hexside School of Magics and Demonics from the walkway approach. Beside them, Willow snorted at the fading trail of conversation, opting to turn towards Luz with a raised eyebrow.

“Are human schools just really small, or something? This definitely isn’t the biggest building on the Isles, by far.”

“Nah, it’s just because of where we lived.” Her eyes skittered over the imposing stonework of the structure’s façade, absorbing the distant details of fang-like crenellations at its peak. “We were always kinda low-income, since it was just mom and I. Not a lot of kids in the neighborhood. Plus, I was too young to work at the time.”

“Oh. That makes sense, I guess.” Luz could hear the apologetic wince in the plant witch’s voice as their small talk petered out for the second occasion that morning, but she didn’t let it bother her too much. After all, this was the first time she’d ever gotten to see a real, honest-to-goodness school for magic.

Hexside greatly resembled a tremendous, looming fusion of a local townhall crossed with a functional castle. Grand columns of veined marble swung skywards, propping the forward load of stone slabs formed into an awning and second floor. The softly muted hues of greyed teal and off-white gave it a stately appearance not out of place in a well-off suburban center, evoking classical architecture with its grand scale. Soaring battlements and towers peered out over the primary entryway, belaying the edges of expansive sports fields and additional fixtures behind the school proper bordered by a prosperous autumnal forest.

Overall, the effect was more much majestic and impressive than the dinky place of secondary learning that the mage had found to be intolerably boring during her younger years, but that was simply how the American education worked in their day and age.

The effect went unbroken as Luz took her first steps into the structure’s expansive halls, eyes shining with hungry wonder at the sight of Hexside’s interior. The entry walkway travelled beneath the gigantic dome at the school’s core, its hollowed heart allowing students passing by at every level to gaze out upon the center of the building with ease. Odd, fleshy equivalents to mundane human technology lined the walls, living lockers and bells scattered about in ordered positions as straggling students packed up their items for the end of the day. Beyond the throngs of passing children and teenagers, she could just make out the silhouettes of individual learning studios, arcane and archaic equipment packed tightly into each classroom.

She almost wished they had come during prime school hours, just to witness the hustle and bustle of such a hauntingly familiar environment – but it wouldn’t have been particularly practical.

…Not to mention that some of the staff might find it a bit uncomfortable, having a bunch of alumni and strangers alike gawking at all of the students minding their own business.

Gus took the lead, waving his companions onwards as he directed them towards the classroom designated for his former club’s after-hours meetings. Luz couldn’t stop her gaze from roaming further, basking in every minute detail of the mythical building she found herself in. She found herself thinking, somewhat forlornly, that if her previous educational experience had been even a fraction of what she saw on the Isles, perhaps her tenure would have gone quite differently.

But that was pure speculation, and nothing more.

“Alright, so -” The sound of her friend’s voice pulled the mage from her drifting thoughts. “I can see you’re pretty eager to take a look around Hexside, so I’ll try and keep the club from swamping you too bad with questions. But first…” Gus’ palms slid together in anticipation. “Let me get in there, and hype you up a bit. They’re gonna love you, Luz.”

She gave an amused chuckle at that, waving the male witch towards the closed door as he melodramatically shushed the pair before taking a step inside. The planeswalker could just make out his excited tone as Gus launched into an overblown introduction, sliding further within the room as he waxed poetical. His words were briefly drowned out by Willow clapping the girl on her shoulder, leaning in for an amused, conspiratorial whisper.

“If you thought Gus was asking silly questions the first time he met you, just wait.” The bespectacled witch’s tone was full of poorly repressed mirth. “At least he gets to talk with Eda sometimes, and she actually knows some stuff about humans. These kids definitely don’t.”

“…I think I’m getting why you wanted to come along today.” Luz responded faintly, drawing a muffled giggle from her friend even as Willow gave her an encouraging shove up to the doorway. They could just make out the tail-end of their companion’s lengthy opening speech as the pair stepped forward.

“And now presenting, a traveler from distant lands – Luz Noceda!”

She hesitated a moment, shooting a bemused look at the blue-haired girl at her side, before walking into the open classroom and giving the assembled schoolchildren a bland wave.

“I’m not gonna lie, I had no idea how to follow up on that much hype, Gus.” She admitted sheepishly, watching the boy fold over in exaggerated despair at her nonchalant greeting to the club. She rolled her eyes at the illusionist’s theatrics, letting out a brief snort of amusem*nt before turning to the awed looking teenagers. “Hey there, everybody! The name’s Luz Noceda, like Gus said, and I’m from the – Human Realm. It’s a pleasure being here today.”

None of the assorted witches and demons gave her a very cogent response, simply muttering their own hellos and looking vaguely worshipful as she strode to the front of the classroom.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions for me about Earth, and my people…” Her eyes skated for a moment back to Willow, leaning in the doorway with a growing smirk. “So, fire away.”

Almost immediately, the mage discovered her prompt to be a mistake.

She jerked back as the dozen or so high schoolers burst out with fantastical queries, trying to scramble over one another verbally as they each asked something more preposterous than the last. Their curiosity ranged from her personal history, to Earth’s global experiences, and further on to human biology. The young mage was fairly certain she even caught a snippet of a question regarding whether or not she might be romantically interested in people of other species.

Clearly, something with a little more structure was required for this encounter. Luz stayed silent, expression firm, until the barrage of information requests died down to an uncertain trickle. Once the teens had gone mostly quiet, she clapped her calloused hands quietly, giving the group a grin that was only slightly forced.

“Okay, let’s try this again with a bit more direction. That’s on me – we probably should’ve done that first.” Allowing her gaze to scan across the group of eager students, she pointed to one of them on a whim. “Alright. What’s your question, miss?”

From that point onwards the forum was much less chaotic. Each of the Hexside attendees were varying levels of curious about her homeworld and life, with some of them even having a handful of thought-provoking questions and observations to provide.

For the most part, though… it was filling in blanks for a bunch of kids with zero frame of reference for how Luz’s people lived day to day.

“Nope, no gills on me. Sorry to disappoint.”

“I can’t fly, either. At least, not unless I’m on a plane. Oh, right – a ‘plane’ is…”

“Humans have hundreds of languages used all over Earth. Some of them sound pretty, others are kind of rough, and most are the ugly stepchildren of another language.”

“We do not regrow lost limbs. No offense, but I wouldn’t demonstrate that anyway.”

“Horseshoe crabs aren’t a myth! They definitely exist, and their blood is blue. Where did you even hear about them, anyway?”

“Yes, I am single. No, I am not looking to ‘mingle.’ Next question, please.”

By the time their burning desire for human-related knowledge had fallen to a low simmer, she was feeling exhaustion tugging at her besieged mind. The curriculum regarding the ‘Human Realm’ must have been much worse off than she’d originally assumed, if these high schoolers had such little idea of how their (relative) neighbors functioned at a basic level.

However, the assembly was not yet complete, as Gus eagerly revealed a chaotic assortment of Earth ‘relics’ that he had received from the Owl Lady over the course of several years. Testing out a bunch of mundane household items, or explaining their purpose where she couldn’t demonstrate, was much less taxing on Luz’s patience. She even had to smile at their genuine delight when she described to them how mechanical can-openers functioned, or the inner workings of a paper shredder. Most points of discussion immediately flowed into the next, as the mage shifted from object to object and how they were required to interact with one another.

Jittery uncertainty fell away as she relaxed into a rhythm of conversation, the earlier nerves from such a rocky start fading out while time passed slowly. By the time the meeting finally concluded, with most of the children having to leave for parental pick-ups before dinner, she’d fully lost track of the clock. There was something very satisfying to Luz, being able to teach others about topics she grasped. She idly considered, as the last of the students exited with cheerful farewells, that perhaps her outlook had something to do with the countless negative experiences she’d had herself beneath the yoke of apathetic human teachers.

Willow’s arm slinging about her shoulder brought the planeswalker out of her reverie, catching the plump witch’s eye as she gave a one-armed hug.

“Well, it might not’ve been as much of a spectacle as I thought it would be, but I’m glad to see you having fun with the students.” Her mischievous smile had softened as the hours wore on, genuine interest in Luz’s knowledge of the human world overwriting the smug satisfaction of watching her friends stand in the uncomfortable spotlight for a bit.

“They seemed like good kids.” Came the cheerful reply, her own limb snaking around the other girl’s side for a quick squeeze before they broke apart. “I was just shocked at how, eh… lackluster the education is, on humans.”

“I mean, we know the Human Realm exists.” Gus piped up from his position at the stained wood desk, where he was carefully rewrapping the collection of earthly goods. “But barely anyone’s ever visited it, especially in recent memory. It’s more surprising how much of your stuff gets here!”

“Yeah, honestly.” Her fingers ghosted over one arm as she gave a low sigh at the reminder of her distant home. “I guess things are just – weird, between magic causing chaos and all sorts of stuff being banned by your government. It’d be… nice if things were just a little easier, though.”

The planeswalker caught Willow’s twitch out of her peripheral vision, and turned to see an odd expression on her features smoothing out into polite confusion.

“Are you looking for a portal to the Human Realm, Luz?” She spoke slowly, carefully, as if trying to correct a serious misunderstanding. “I thought that you could just – travel when you want to. Between worlds, that is.”

“For everywhere except Earth, sure. But between there, the Isles -” One finger jabbed down towards the scuffed floortiles. “And the rest of the multiverse, some kind of wall is in the way. I’ve been trying to figure out a way around or through it ever since I realized the thing exists.”

“…Ah. No luck with that, then.” The apologetic words were not a question.

A low, gusting sigh was the only response she gave, her head shaking morosely at the observation. Luz’s eyes fell to the floor, a spike of dejection rising in her chest – until Gus slowly shuffled into her field of view, his face scrunched up in concern at her reaction.

“Well – hey. You know what’ll get your mind off of the sad stuff?” His warm hand fell upon her forearm, giving it a comforting squeeze. “How about a tour of the best magical school this side of Bonesborough? Willow and I know all about the cool little secrets this place has. Like how the detention chambers connect to every major classroom!”

Weakly smiling at his enthusiasm, Luz gave a brief nod of agreement.

“You know what? That sounds perfect. Show us the way, Mister Porter.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” The short witch marched to the door, tugging it open with a grand flourish for his companions. “After you, ladies.”

Gus was indeed quite serious about his understandings of Hexside’s halls, rivalled only by Willow at his side. He provided the majority of the running commentary, however, seeing as the blue-haired witch appeared somewhat off-kilter after their earlier conversation. Not that Luz necessarily blamed her – she just chalked it up to discomfort at spending time in a school that, in one way or another, had failed her as a student so gravely. If the mage had been in her shoes, she couldn’t even rightly say that she would have gone as far as the other girl already had, for the day.

As her initial impression had dictated, the school building was as astounding indoors as it was on the exterior. Each classroom and studio was dedicated to a differing set of magical principles, particularly in their relation to the nine primary covens that witches were required to join before graduation. Arcane brewing and scrying implements hung low from the ribbed ceiling far above; internal greenhouses and beast pens dotted the inner chambers; and an entire wing was dedicated to the construction and dissection of the ‘abominations’ Luz could recall Amity Blight referring to the other day.

Hexside did, indeed, have an enormous enchanted tunnel system burrowing through the building, a feature that Gus described as they briefly visited the hidden sanctum with an offhand comment about knowing some of the more adventurous members of the school’s unofficial ‘Detention Track.’ Other oddities and points of interest included the fact that the structure actually catered to early elementary-level students, as well as older children and teenagers; not to mention the notably sizable cafeteria and gymnasium attached to the building’s rear, two chambers that struck Luz with how similarly designed they were to human educational standards.

It was mind-boggling to the mage, just how in-depth the development and resources dedicated to Hexside truly were. In some capacity, its facets could be attributed to circ*mstance and wealthy donations from local citizens. Regardless, Luz still found the overall image of the institution to be awe-inspiring.

The final stretch of the tour took the trio to the combined wing where their respective covens - formerly, in Willow’s case – shared a slice of conjoined hallway space. Her friends hesitated at the precipice, eagerness in Gus’ eyes and trepidation on Willow’s face as they gazed at the classrooms they had once attended for their formative years.

“Do you mind if we take a quick break here, Luz?” The boy turned to her, giving the mage a slightly pleading look. “I’ve been meaning to catch up with some of my teachers, and we’ve pretty much covered everything interesting already.”

“Same here, actually.” The bespectacled girl’s expression was much more conflicted, but Luz spotted the moment her mind was made as Willow’s shoulders ticked upwards with determination. “Just… wanted to have a little chat with some of my instructors. For old time’s sake.”

“Hey, go ahead, guys.” She gave them a carefree wave, leaning against the cool stonework of the exposed walls. “I’ll hang out here and take in the ambiance for a bit.” Luz directed a small, comforting smile towards the plant witch as she gave a concerned frown at the human mage. “Really. It’s fine, I’ll be fine.”

They split off on separate paths, ducking around corners and into side passages as the planeswalker was left standing, alone and unfamiliar, in an empty hallway. Her eyes roamed the walls lazily, gleefully absorbing all of the otherworldly detail that surrounded her. After a moment, however, Luz was struck by a bolt of whimsy as she beheld the living lockers perched upon the sides of the building.

The first few she inspected hissed and snarled at her as she strode by, prompting her to move on until she discovered a more docile specimen. Upon reaching one such locker, Luz discovered – to her delight – that the bizarre creature thoroughly enjoyed the light scratches she delivered to its chin. So much so, in fact, that its tongue lolled out limply, offering the mage an armful of some unknown student’s books and folders.

“Oopsie – I don’t actually need those, pal, you can take them back.” She gently pressed against the exposed texts, and had just managed to convince the demonic thing to accept its burden once more when an unfamiliar voice had her flinching in shock.

“Young lady, the school has been closed for some time now. I hope you aren’t planning to stay the night.”

Luz’s head swiveled around with a jerk, bringing her eye to eye with an aged witch standing at the corner of the hall. His voluminous robes failed to hide his shrunken figure and hunched spine, though the apparent weakness of age was offset by the lengthy claws stretching from his fingertips and the… gaping maw of a miniature devil that threatened to swallow his skull. Bizarrely, the creature’s form broke about his facial features, allowing a pair of shrewd blue eyes to gaze into her soul.

“Oh! Uh, sorry about that, sir.” One hand swung up towards the base of her neck, but she clamped down on the nervous tic, turning it into an awkward wave at the bemused man. “I’m not actually a student – I was visiting with a pair of friends who used to attend Hexside.”

“Really, now?” The old witch’s question was dryly sardonic as he gave an exaggerated examination of the first floor. “Well, I don’t see any former students of mine around.”

“They went off to talk to some of their teachers. Augustus Porter and… Willow Park, if you remember them.” She very intentionally did not let the end of her sentence peak into uncertainty. “Also – my name’s Luz Noceda. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mami would smack her upside the head if she ever found out about her daughter acting on poor manners, and so the mage stepped forward with a hand stiffly extended for a shake.

“Miss Park and Mister Porter?” He seemed faintly surprised at her proclamation, belatedly reaching to link their fists and giving them a single pump. “Well now, those are two names I haven’t heard for some time.” The aging man bent forward in a slight bow, sweeping his free hand out in greeting. “Principal Heironymus Bump, at your service.”

Her lips quirked up in a half-grin at the politesse, silently relieved that the witch hadn’t pushed her on the selection of companions for her trip.

“You have a fantastic school, Principal Bump. I’m really impressed at what’s on offer for the kids here.” Luz gave a self-conscious laugh, flicking her eyes down the hall to try and catch a glimpse of any shortly returning friends. “Makes me wish I had something like it when I was still a student, honestly.”

“No expense was spared in preparing our organization for prospective learners.” Came the proud declaration, even while the man straightened his back as best he could. “If I might ask, where are you from? I don’t recall either of my pupils having ever mentioned your name, from our handful of interactions.”

“You could say I’m… pretty far from home.” One thumb flicked the smooth curve of her ear in emphasis, drawing his gaze to the lack of a knife-like peak. The principal’s eyes widened in subdued surprise at the sight, scanning her overall appearance before returning to her face.

“Well now! I haven’t seen a human around Bonesborough in a very long time.” Oh, that was an interesting reaction.

“Really? Do you remember the last time you might’ve seen someone like me in the area…?” The mage gave him a hopeful look, doe-eyed and sincere, but the male witch only grimaced at the query.

“Not off the top of my head, no. As I said, it has been quite a while – and I am rather old, by most standards.” The added comment came off in a mild grumble, as Principal Bump fussed with the sagging sleeves of his robe. “So, out of curiosity, how did you come across my former students?”

The young planeswalker gave a mild frown at the obvious shifting of subject, but graciously allowed it to pass in lieu of other topics she wanted to know more of – with one in particular coming to mind.

“Actually, I met them through Eda the Owl Lady. She’s letting me stay with her, since I don’t have anywhere else to be right now.”

“Oh, dear Titan – Edalyn Clawthorne?” Bump’s voice shook with burgeoning exasperation at the statement.

“You know her?” That was a tad surprising, though if the man was as aged as he claimed, maybe it made sense that his tenure would have stretched back some decades to when Eda was still in attendance at Hexside.

“Unfortunately, yes. The Clawthorne sisters’ time at my school was one of unparalleled chaos and all-around misery. For myself, at least.” His hands shot up, gesturing exaggeratedly towards the domed ceiling as he ranted about the agonies brought upon him by a younger Owl Lady. “Every week, it was some new disastrous prank unleashed upon the halls of this institution by Eda. Even years later, you can still see the marks of her work!” One clawed palm swept out to indicate a segment of lockers, a grouping that – upon closer inspection – rippled with shifting, living graffiti upon their surfaces.

“I truly cannot count how many incidents can be traced back to their time at Hexside. Food fights, destroyed classrooms, preposterous misadventures out of children’s novels -”

Luz pounced on the running commentary with all the cunning of an underbrush predator.

“You know, she told me a few things herself. Some of the stories sounded really out there.” She kept her tone nonchalant, even in the face of a minor lie – seeing as it was Lilith who had informed her of such examples. “I think one of them was about starting an abomination uprising, since someone stole her sister’s lunch money…?”

“Ugh, I recall that one rather well.” Principal Bump fell for the verbal bait with ease. “An enormous, sentient construct that was only defeated after the three girls worked together to take it down, with everyone else preoccupied by trying to escape. Yet another escapade that had left me with more gray hairs on my scalp.”

“Is that something you and your staff have a lot of issues dealing with?” One last snag, before she had him backed into a corner.

“Ah… abomination troubles?” Bingo.

“No. Bullying.” The old witch blinked at her no-nonsense tone, leaving her free to continue onwards. “You know, I had to deal with that a lot back in the day. I wanted to know how Hexside deals with students that just don’t get along with each other.”

“Well – you see, we… often leave it up to the children to resolve problems of the social sort amongst themselves.” He was left sputtering for a coherent response, and Luz celebrated internally at putting him on the backstep. “Particularly outstanding cases will be addressed, of course -”

“I kinda doubt that.” The mage cut across the counterargument like a knife. “I bet if I asked Willow what she thought about how your school handled bullying, I’d hear something a lot less flattering.” She leaned against the cool brickwork with one arm, the casual stance offset by her hardened voice. “Dropping out isn’t something people do on a whim.”

“There were… extenuating circ*mstances, in that instance.” Bump took her raised eyebrow as a prompt to explain himself, and he squared his shoulders defiantly before continuing onwards. “Sometimes, young lady, difficult choices must be made for the betterment of all – and that case was one of them.”

The dregs of earlier joy curdled in her gut, sour disappointment blossoming as she realized that people would be people, for better or worse – regardless of whether they were staff or student.

“I just don’t really see how letting one kid bully the other so bad that she left your school was ever acceptable, is all.” Luz let her displeasure at the nonresponse shine through, meeting the stubborn principal’s glare with her own.

“It was not that I wished to allow Miss Park to be browbeaten into submission, Miss Noceda.” Principal Bump’s own voice had edged into steeliness, now. “But unfortunately, our organization is under tremendous pressure from those who provide the backing necessary to keep Hexside operating as it does. And two of those individuals would be Odalia and Alador Blight – the proprietors of Blight Industries.”

Her brow furrowed in confusion at his assertion, though she silently noted that he had thrown away any pretense of not being fully aware of the situation.

“And, what – did Amity’s parents just have a bone to pick with a schoolgirl, or something?” She let her incredulity bleed into her words at the implication.

“Not so much a grudge, as an inherent set of overwhelming standards. From their time as my students, I knew Odalia – and to a lesser extent, Alador – to be socialites of the highest order.” His frustration gave way to resignation as Bump described the school’s alumni. “With wealthy parents and strict guidelines for their behavior, I can very well see such an approach being taken with their own children. Goodness knows it did little for the twins, though.” His eyes rolled, briefly, at the recollection. “At any rate, I am well aware of the heavy hand they took in parent-teacher relations here at Hexside – and by extension, the pressure placed upon Amity Blight’s shoulders to be the best in every regard, including standing and company kept.”

“So you just… let it happen?” Luz’s anger melted away slowly, replaced by sorrow at the thought of the principal’s submission to Amity’s overburdening parents. “There really, truly, wasn’t anything you could’ve done to get the Blights to back off?”

“When they contribute more than fifteen percent of our school’s total funding through donations, and are heads of the Parent-Creature Association? No.” He snorted at the flat look he received following the statement. “I am aware it is a bad pun. That name’s one of the few things that are older than me when it comes to this place.”

“Maybe it’s for the better that I never had the chance to come here, then.” She aimed for a derisive scoff, but it out came out as a sad mumble instead. “Probably wouldn’t have taught me half the magical stuff I know, anyway…”

“Seeing as you are human, I find that statement rather difficult to believe.” Bump gave Luz an unimpressed look following her words, brows raised skeptically at the sentiment.

Her expression fell into a displeased cast, even as she pushed off from the wall and reached for the thrumming band of mana wrapped about her metaphysical senses.

“Just because somebody doesn’t have a bile sac, or whatever, doesn’t mean they’re helpless.” She savored the way Bump’s features shifted into shock as a miniature fireball erupted into life above her outstretched palm. “When it comes to mana and magic, there’s plenty of ways to get the job done.”

“Mana.” The hunched witch let out a choked, hysterical laugh at the visual evidence of her spellcasting abilities. “Oh. Well. Today is simply full of surprises, isn’t it?”

Luz squinted at the older man, suspicion tickling the corners of her mind at his words.

“You… don’t seem very weirded out that a human is doing magic right in front of you.” The kernel of concern exploded into full-blown paranoia at the guilty realization that crossed the principal’s expression. “In fact, it almost seems like you recognize this.”

Thin lips pursing in displeasure, the old principal looked the mage dead in the eye as he spoke.

“I am much older than you might realize, Luz Noceda. I’ve seen a lot of things come and go on the Boiling Isles, after the rise of our Emperor.” It was unsettling how quickly he had become deathly serious. “Knowledge is easily lost – and so too, is magic. Especially if there is someone invested in seeing it removed.”

She leaned back as the implication hit her, leaving Luz gasping softly in understanding.

“Wait. Are you saying that this – isn’t new to witches? That the Emperor -?”

“If I am willing to bend on the wellbeing of one student in the face of another’s parents, then I am most certainly able to watch myself when it comes to attracting Belos’ wrath.” It was Bump’s turn to cut the young girl off, brokering no argument in response. “I will not willingly endanger my students by playing with fire, and it is my hope you can respect that.”

“I… yeah. I get it.”

“Good. Then I would ask that you don’t linger, before the wrong set of eyes finds you throwing around fireballs in my hallways.” Principal Bump turned on his heel, even as she nodded in assent, making his way back to the administrative offices of Hexside. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Noceda. Have a nice day.”

“You too.” Her parting response crawled out weakly, Luz’s mind too burdened by the information she’d received from their conversation. That was how Gus and Willow found her as they returned from their distant conversations, lost in thought against a locker she was lavishing with distracted petting.

“Sorry about the wait, Luz. Hope you weren’t too bored.” Gus quirked a brow at her distant expression. “Something the matter? Was there anything we missed with the tour you wanted to see?”

The mage risked a quick glance at Willow, but didn’t betray any of the turmoil she felt as Bump’s words came to the fore of her mind.

“Nah, it’s not important. Just thinking about some stuff.” She offered the pair up a small smile, tilting her head towards the entrance of the school. “Thanks for showing me around – it was a real eye-opener. Why don’t we get out of here, start heading home? I could use a snack and a book right about now.”

Simply because no good deed could go unpunished, Luz stumbled across the waiting form of Amity Blight at the edge of the Owl House property line on the walk back, with Willow in step behind the mage after a comment about needing to speak with Eda.

The law witch directed a short wave at the pair from her spot, leaning against a scraggly tree as she awaited their approach. The planeswalker didn’t let it slow her for long, but she did take note of the low grunt that came from her bespectacled friend at the sight. She shortened her gait to meet Willow’s pace, patting the other girl on the arm as they strode up to the now tense coven deputy. Blatantly opting to ignore the growing friction between the two witches that refused to look each other in the eyes, she came to a stop in front of her one-time student with crossed arms.

“Hey there, Amity. I’m assuming you have a message for me, or something?” Golden eyes twitched away from a taciturn Willow Park at her words, some of the stress leaving her posture as she accepted Luz’s verbal lead.

“Hello, Luz. I did, in fact, have something to discuss with you.” Amity’s gaze shifted back to her former classmate for a moment. “Coven business, as you might have guessed.”

“Alrighty then.” The human mage swung around to address her simmering friend. “Willow, do you want to go ahead and have that chat you mentioned with Eda? I’ll probably be a few minutes out here.”

“Sure, Luz. That’s just fine by me.” The plant witch squeezed her hand for a brief second, the chilliness in her posture evaporating at their shared contact. “If you need anything, holler for us.”

All three of them understood what Willow really meant, but nobody had the guts to challenge her statement as the blue-haired girl strode up to the excitable figure of Hooty, a murmur of conversation audible from the forest path at that distance.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” The question shook Amity from the unerring stare she held on Willow’s back, the unreadable emotions in her eyes fading as she turned.

“It turns out that – after our training session the other day - Lilith somehow figured out that I was hiding things from both her, and the coven. I wonder how that might’ve happened.” Her supremely unimpressed tone said that she was well aware of the leak in information, and Luz could only give a sheepish chuckle in response. “As punishment for my duplicity – and as a lesson in how to properly maintain a deception for any length of time – I’ve been assigned to round-the-clock Owl Lady surveillance duty. For the next week, or until Miss Clawthorne believes I’ve had enough. She was rather displeased.”

“…Oops.” Amity’s flat stare deepened into legitimate exasperation at the pathetic confirmation the mage managed to squeak out. “Sorry about that. It was a slip of the tongue. But, uh, what does that have to do with me?”

“Well, seeing as nobody else will be scheduled here for some time, and that it’s your fault I’m stuck writing so many reports for the foreseeable future, I thought you might be convinced to do some additional magic training with me.”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, certainly.” That was much less frightening than anything she could’ve imagined. “What time do you normally show up around here? I get moving pretty early, most days, so I can definitely meet you outside for some practice whenever.”

“I’m not going to be giving away any more potentially valuable information for the moment, sorry.” The witch was left unmoved by the request. “Let’s just call it sometime after breakfast, for the rest of the week. Do we have a deal?”

“Yuppers!”

The two girls shook on their transaction, no magically binding enchantments necessary for their discussion this time. Upon receiving confirmation that Luz would be up and about early the next day, Amity directed a single nod towards the mage, before turning with a quiet farewell to trek into the darkening woods. She waved at the witch’s retreating back, calling out her own goodbye even while she walked up to the Owl House.

Luz caught the door just as Willow was making her exit, looking no more satisfied with her own discussion than she had before their approach. The mage made to ask her what the matter was, but her friend just cut her off with a brief embrace before stating that everything was fine, and that she needed to head home before supper. Once more, the young planeswalker attributed her poor mood to being shaken up by Amity’s appearance and their time at Hexside for the day, offering well-wishes to Willow’s departing form.

While her housemates’ greetings were energetic enough, it was clear that whatever the plant witch had been conversing with Eda about put a damper on the mood as Luz returned to the homestead. The remainder of the evening was spent in relative silence, with the Owl Lady and mage both deciding upon retiring early in the night.

Luz pondered her discussion with Principal Bump as she readied herself for bed, turning over his desperate words in her head as she shucked off sweaty clothes in exchange for a warm shower and soft pajamas. She forced herself away from the lingering curiosity, instead focusing on what her next lesson might be for the eager Amity Blight – and trying to put aside the nagging, guilty sensation that she was betraying Willow’s trust in doing so.

Chapter 17

Chapter Text

Training with the youngest member of House Blight, Luz would come to find, was akin to brute forcing a puzzle to completion. Amity was a bright and invested learner, who soaked up her amateur explanations on magical dynamics like a sponge, but her approach to applying such lessons was to try everything and anything that came to mind.

On the first day alone – seated beneath the shade of a drooping tree, hiding from the oppressive midmorning heat of summer – the pair of girls brainstormed a number of ways to improve upon the basic restraint spell the witch had already practiced before. Luz mostly drew from her experience with other law mages on separate planes, and the hazy memories of that frantic battle on Ravnica where the trapped planeswalkers had fought for freedom.

She hadn’t really gotten an opportunity to know the chiseled, charismatic man named Gideon Jura over the course of their brief interactions… especially considering he gave his life, in the end, to help defeat the threat of the tyrant dragon that endangered them all. But the young mage could clearly remember the sight of his searing mana whips detaining and tearing through foes with ease, a fizzing sheath of burning white accompanying the massive sword at his side as he led the charge through hordes of mindless undead.

Instead, Luz offered a modified variation of what she had seen him wield to Amity, suggesting methods for creating similar magical whips and snares that could be used to lasso suspects on the run during her patrols. Her companion took each suggestion further, voicing potential scenarios where such knowledge would be applicable, and even covering possible weaknesses in such tools so that they could be reinforced with redundancies before use.

In its own way, working with Amity Blight on wielding new magics was relaxing. The coven witch reminded her of Eda after fashion: stubborn and persistent, with a determination to absorb as much practical knowledge as possible. But where the Owl Lady was direct and headstrong, tackling her problems by her own method until the obstacle crumbled, Amity sought to ferret out the weaknesses of her target to aggressively exploit. The pale deputy was able and willing to work around any problem given enough time.

And so, their training consisted of long stretches spent brainstorming, from morning to evening, with Luz’s student sparring against either herself or a summoned set of abominations. The first time seeing a column of purple muck surge from the ground, swelling into a muddied humanoid form, was rather surprising for the mage. She’d have assumed the process to be a bit more… mundane, perhaps assembling the construct out of the natural environment rather than a conjured chemical slurry. Her gut reaction said that Amity’s preferred school of magic had more in common with mana-derived summoning than it had any right to, but she left those thoughts unvoiced for the moment.

The planeswalker didn’t slack on her own experimentation, however, even though she emphasized guiding the more inexperienced mage through applying new magical techniques. Watching Lilith Clawthorne produce force barriers in a panic during their shared training session only days before, Luz was inspired to invest more time in developing her own supernatural defenses. A lack of readily available armor and other protections had already proven themselves as serious concerns in the past, and she wanted to have something in reserve for an emergency – such as, say, another bout of combat with an angered Owl Beast.

As Amity worked to split her mana restraints, maintaining their fluidity and directing their reach as flexible snares, Luz sought to foil her with conjured walls and shields. Bursting gouts of fire or packed columns of soil worked as easy deterrents, but were too immaterial to serve as anything more than a temporary blockade against the coven member’s determined assault. Summoned elemental constructs simply didn’t provide enough of an offset to attacks from multiple angles, a problem that was only exacerbated by the witch’s use of lumbering waves of controlled abominations as support.

To counter her disadvantage in spellcasting speed and maneuverability, Luz swapped to crafting defenses from mana-infused liquids. She had been bound and determined, ever since the encounter with a cursed Eda the Owl Lady, to become more self-sufficient with access to components necessary for her magic. Due to this, Amity was very much not expecting her opponent to pull a crackling buckler of solidified ice from almost thin air, allowing the mage to parry an incoming lunge of twisting mana tendrils and slash through their grasp with another burst of razor-sharp water vapor.

With the Boiling Isles steeped so heavily in energetic blue mana, it was relatively easy for Luz to rip humidity from the very air around them and form it into temporary tools, now that she had some practice on a much greater scale. This was something she had to explaining, laughingly, to a fuming Amity Blight as the law witch sulked after having been thoroughly surprised during their match.

“How can you just – make something up on the spot like that?” Her sparring partner threw her hands up in aggravation, braid askew after their battle. “I get that your magic is based on emotions, and intuition, but that’s just ridiculous. Every spell a witch learns has been proven countless times, over the course of generations.” Amity’s scowl was growing progressively more thunderous as she vented.

“To be fair, I have been doing this for a few years, now.” The pale girl remained unmoved by her impeccable logic, leaving Luz to attempt another approach. “Besides, it’s just reapplying stuff I already know in a slightly different way. A lot of spells are just little changes made to other, more specific magic – like a big slide made out of ice, in this case. Some basic understanding of how heat works helps, too.”

“But I do know that. And I’m trying the same thing as you, modifying a spell I already have a grasp of. So…” Her gloved hands clenched with caged frustration. “What’s the difference that’s slowing me down?”

“It could just be that specific method you’re testing, you know.” Luz’s brows shot up in an unsurprised cant. “Playing at being an octopus cop doesn’t really strike me as being very easy.”

“You can’t tell me that wouldn’t be useful!” Amity argued, heat rising to her cheeks at the provided commentary. “Having the capacity to immobilize multiple enemies at the same time would be easily applicable -”

“Hey, hey, I’m not saying it’s a bad idea.” She offered her upturned hands in supplication. “Just that maybe you should consider mastering the basic spells first. Y’know?”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” The witch’s golden eyes gave an exasperated roll. “A Blight never backs down from a challenge. This is no different.”

“Alright, well - if that’s the case then we’d better get back to it, huh?”

For all that their initial interactions had been so hostile – and even with the unstated baggage of Amity’s past in regards to Willow Park – the human mage found herself enjoying time spent with the coven witch. Deputy Blight was a brilliant, determined young lady, with a drive to achieve perfection that Luz couldn’t even come close to. She simply wasn’t that level of competitive, naturally or otherwise – and perhaps that difference, among others, was what made their training sessions together so amusing.

“Would you please take this a little more seriously?” Amity dragged a hand down her face as she fell out of her tense stance, propping the other hand at her hip.

“Huh? But I am!” The planeswalker brought the slow twirl of her living staff to a halt, giving her opponent a petulant pout in response.

“If you actually were, there wouldn’t be any fancy dodges or spinning your oversized stick around.” The pale witch’s tone had fallen into an unamused deadpan in the interim of mock battle, accompanied only by an expression of long-suffering. “Just get out of the way of my attacks, that’s all. You don’t need to be sashaying all over the place the entire time.”

“I’ll have you know that my mom said I have the grace of a dancer!” Luz countered with a bold declaration.

“Really.”

“…Maybe once or twice, yeah.” She winced at the nonexistent impact of her boast. “I can’t really remember. It’s – been a while.”

“Well, why don’t we try fighting like normal people in the meanwhile, and you can save the acrobatics for showing off at the local circus or something.” Amity spoke in an exaggerated falsetto, her twitching eye belaying the genuine frustration growing beneath.

However, her words had the opposite effect on the human mage, prompting Luz to drop out of her loose posture as her eyes shown with excitement at the statement.

“Hey, that reminds me – were you planning on paying that night fair in Bonesborough a visit this weekend?” She had long since learned not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and this was a perfect segue into making some actual headway on getting the coven witch to open up a bit. “We could make it a hang out, if you don’t already have any plans.”

The pale girl choked at the suggestion, face scrunching up in shock before valiantly attempting a shift back to vague disinterest.

“You want to visit the town fair together. Just the two of us. As… friends.” She didn’t seem fully certain on what emotion to settle on in that moment.

“Er – kinda.” Luz grimaced at the misconception, sheepishly rubbing the back of her skull as she glanced away. “I was planning on hanging out with Eda and King too, poke around for some human stuff while we’re there, but I’m sure they wouldn’t care if you wanted to tag along.” She tried to pitch her voice apologetically at the end of her uncertain proclamation, but Amity’s face fell with a sliver of disappointment regardless.

“…Ah. Well, that’s probably for the best, anyway. I doubt I can get out of coven duties in time to go.” The witch’s face blanked, for a moment, before her brow furrowed in consternation. “Lilith said she had something planned on that day and she’d need my assistance with it. Not quite sure what, though.”

“It’s not a big deal!” The mage was quick to reassure the law witch, catching her crestfallen attitude easily behind the poorly maintained veil of indifference. “I mean, we’ve still got the rest of this week to relax. And, listen -” She leaned in towards her companion, dropping her tone into a stage whisper as she spoke conspiratorially. “I don’t know if Eda cares or not, but if you want to hang out after you get off punishment detail, I’m always up for whatever.”

“You are?” The other girl blinked owlishly at her, features curled up in disbelief. “Because sometimes, it feels like the only time you and I are together in one place is due to you being coerced.”

She didn’t miss the way her training partner’s shoulders hunched minutely with the statement.

“Of course.” Luz closed the gap, slinging one arm around Amity Blight’s shoulders and kindly ignoring the slight jump at the contact. “That’s what friends are for, after all.”

“Right. ‘Friends.’ I forgot about that part.” She polished off the sarcastic retort with a roll of her golden eyes – but that motion was accompanied by a small smile. And the mage counted that solidly as a win.

Their moment of camaraderie, however, was shattered as the front door of the Owl House burst open, slamming poor Hooty into the exterior wall with a yowl.

“Good news, Luz!” The Owl Lady dismounted the porch with a skip in her step, and to the mage’s mild horror, was followed by a ring of gently spinning knives orbiting her head. “I’m getting pretty good at using telekinesis without my eyes. I’d bet you five snails I can get dinner done without hands, too, at this point -”

Eda stopped dead on the sunbaked front yard, eyebrows rising in question at the sight of her houseguest with a limb wrapped around one of the local authorities.

“Aw, kid. What is this?” She gestured loosely at an increasingly uncomfortable-looking Amity Blight. “Rule number one for a witch on the run: being buddy-buddy with the coppers is just asking for them to stage a raid on your house when you’re trying to have a nice dinner party with your new pals.”

Ignoring the oddly specific example provided by her host, Luz released the young witch and stepped away, planting hands at her waist with a pleading expression on her face.

“Come on, Eda. She’s not hurting anything. And besides – pretending she isn’t just hiding in the bushes or whatever won’t make Amity go away. It’s her job to spy on us.”

“I’m glad you never fail to boil my career down to the most bare-bones and humiliating descriptors you can think of.” The coven deputy snarked, picking at her worn gloves as she was talked around by present company.

“Eh… I guess.” The older woman gave a huff, crossing her arms in exasperation at the hangdog look given to her by the planeswalker. “Just don’t let her figure out any of my dark, mysterious secrets to ultimate power if you’re going to let her loiter on my grass.”

“Like what, your crippling love for appleblood?” Amity shot back, practically baring her teeth in challenge at the other witch. “Don’t worry – I’m pretty sure the whole township already knew about that one.”

Eda barked out a laugh in response that was just shy of friendly, a bit of grudging admiration in her gaze.

“Y’know, kid, when I’m not stewing over what you did to my apprentice, you’re not half bad.”

The mage caught the moment her sparring partner stiffened defensively, adopting a blandly annoyed air that couldn’t fully disguise the flash of shame that ghosted across her features at the reminder.

“Neither are you, Eda the Owl Lady. At least, when I can look past your horrible social etiquette.”

“Feh!” The pale witch flapped a hand in response, leaning against one of the porch’s struts as she stood, half-sheltered by the awning’s shade. “I just say what I have to say, and when I have to say it. On that note…”

She crossed the yard in a few long strides, her escort of floating kitchen utensils filtering back into the household as she wrapped her own slim limb about Luz’s shoulders to give the younger woman a short squeeze.

“You can hang out on the property all you want – seeing as you’re gonna be skulking around here, anyway - but no breaking anybody’s heart, or my stuff, on my watch. Otherwise I’m taking you off the nice list, and Hooty gets to ‘play’ with you like he does your little coven buddies. You got that?”

“Wait, what.” The mage had definitely lost track of the conversation at this point, but Amity was left sputtering in dumbfounded offense at the statement. She bravely attempted to form a coherent retort to the smug Owl Lady’s words, but gave up with a short scream of aggravation before stomping away for the cool shade of the distant tree line.

It took her a second to catch onto the older witch’s implication.

“Hold up, I haven’t even gotten Amity to admit we can be friends yet. We are definitely not flirting, or whatever!” Her host directed a look of intense skepticism towards the planeswalker. “I’m serious, Eda! Even if I wasn’t, I really wouldn’t call beating the tar out of each other with magic anything even to close to being ‘romantic.’”

“Maybe that’s just what you like? Not that I’d judge.” The peal of chuckles the Owl Lady belted out at the look on Luz’s face was much more genuine than before. “Welp, I’ll let you get back to your little playdate. You two have fun out here!”

The mage gave a groan of defeated disgust as her companion strutted away victoriously, ignoring the older woman’s fit of giggles as she retreated into the house. She turned to retrieve Amity, maybe apologize for the older woman’s atrocious sense of humor – only to spot the coven witch stalking back across the property, a determined scowl set deep in her face.

“Nope, not talking about that.” The pale girl’s words sliced across Luz’s burgeoning apology, betraying the embarrassment hiding just beneath the surface of the façade. “No more discussion about ‘feelings.’ Back to magic training now.”

She didn’t even get the opportunity to verbally agree, having to duck out of the way with a yelp as a hastily summoned abomination lunged from the dry soil in a tackle. The planeswalker spun on her heel, a blast of roaring flames cooking the construct easily. And with that, the fight was back on.

Out of unspoken agreement, Eda’s comments went unaddressed by the pair for the remainder of the week – though Luz would be lying if she said there wasn’t a thought or two spared for the topic.

“Come on! How are you guys still getting ready? You had all day to prepare!”

The miniscule King of Demons was practically vibrating in his kitchen stool, jittering restlessly as the remaining members of the household finalized preparations for the evening.

Eda had strongly advised that the mage bring her favorite indigo cloak, just on the off-chance that a beat cop spotted the trio and they needed to make a stealthy getaway. Personally, Luz thought that any officer who was off-duty probably wouldn’t be picking fights with random criminals at a crowded event like the Bonesborough Night Fair, but that was simply her opinion. Unfortunately, she had little frame of reference for such an occasion, an oddity in her otherwise widespread experiences across the multiverse.

Of course, after being dragged along for one of the macabre goreshows people called ‘entertainment’ put on by Ravnica’s rambunctious Rakdos Cult, she’d lost any stomach for such frightening excesses.

Hopefully, their night wouldn’t involve an overt quantity of sadomasochism.

“Hold your horses, King.” The Owl Lady combed one manicured hand through her untamed locks, shaking the tremendous mane into a semblance of order as she gazed into a small hand mirror. “The sun’s barely finished frying us for the day. We’ve got plenty of time to make a splash tonight.”

“We’re… not actually going to start a scene, right?” Luz winced at the thought of fleeing the township for a second time. Once had been enough, thank you.

“Jeez, who do you take me for?” Her host gave a short scoff, forfeiting her attempts to conquer the massive expansive of hair atop her head. “It’s all fun and games tonight, kid. No silly business – within reason, of course.”

“…Sure.” Her reply was brief, dragged aside by a brief spike of discomfit at the witch’s words. The thought skittered just out of reach, the tail-end of an oddity tickling her senses –

An explosive harrumph tore the planeswalker from her thoughts, bringing her gaze around to the ajar main door as a frowning Hooty smashed open the wooden framework in his frustration.

“I still can’t believe I have to stay here by myself all night.” The disgruntled house demon gave a petulant grumble, coiling about in agitation as Eda and King simply ignored his complaints. Luz, however – wrenched from the free-floating consideration by his passage – gave the poor creature a comforting scratch at the base of his chin.

“Sorry, Hooty. But somebody needs to watch the house while we’re gone.” Her tone pitched upward into an offering of appeasem*nt. “How about I keep an eye out for any tasty snacks while we’re there? I bet we could bring you something a little better than bugs for later.”

The guardian entity hummed as he contemplated the suggested exchange, beady eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

“Well… okay!” He snaked about the human mage, using his cylindrical form to provide a brief full-body hug for the girl. “Thanks a bunch, Luz. I appreciate you treating me with the care and consideration I deserve!” This comment he shot towards the preoccupied witch, who turned from her efforts at appearance management to quirk an unimpressed brow towards her house demon.

“You keep this attitude up, buster, and I’m repainting you chartreuse.”

Hooty let loose a gasp of unadulterated horror at her threat.

“You wouldn’t! You know how awful I’d look – and, and you guys have to live in here too!”

“Try me, see what happens.” The Owl Lady returned to applying her makeup, leaving the owl creature properly cowled at the mere suggestion.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let Eda get away with any interior redecorating.” She patted the quivering demon sympathetically, doing little to alleviate his fear at the thought of having his color palette adjusted. Thankfully, however, Hooty did release Luz from his embrace, allowing her to complete her own outfit preparations for the fair before any more time could pass.

They departed the Owl House shortly after, the mage calling out a farewell to the homebound creature as the trio stepped off the porch. King darted ahead to Owlbert’s waiting staff, childishly throwing himself over the wooden stave while shouting encouragements at the women behind him. The Owl Lady righted the tiny being as they sat astride her beloved palisman, launching the party skywards with a command in the direction of Bonesborough.

Even at an aerial distance, the hustle and bustle of the night’s festivities could be spotted on their approach into town. Colorful tents spilled into the wider streets from the borders of the flea market, arranged in countless shining shapes and sizes as soft, orange torchlight suffused the settlement. Flares and sparks of rainbowed hues blew into the air from tentside shows, accompanied by the low rumble of a bustling crowd as cheerful townsfolk perused the wares and entertainment on offer. Luz and company buzzed low over the rooftops, zipping past towering rides and arching big tops that dominated the night sky, bristling like a toothy grin.

They swooped to a stop at the market’s center, leaving King free to leap clear with a cheer as he raced to the nearest set of carnival games ahead of the rest. The mage showed a bit more restraint, lending Eda a hand down off of Owlbert’s body before the witch unscrewed her carved companion, placing the construct atop a shoulder and dismissing the staff with a wave of her hand.

“Well, kiddo…” A bulging purse flashed into existence in the Owl Lady’s outstretched hand, allowing her to flick through its clinking contents with a single manicured claw tip. “Our little stint at the stand this week topped us off on cash for a while, so – feel free to go wild. Just try not to get scammed by any of these clowns.”

“That shouldn’t be an issue. I’ve spent too much time visiting flea markets and boardwalks in my life to let some crappy circus empty out my pockets.” She patted her own satchel, giving it a hearty jingle with a sly grin. “Plus, even if I do get cheated out of a couple bucks, I brought my own money. So it’s no big deal.”

The pale witch glanced askew at the indicated money bag, expression twisting for a moment before melting into something warmly fond.

“Don’t worry about that. I got us covered for tonight.” Her host gave a chuckle at the incredulous look she received at her statement. “No, seriously. My treat.”

“Alright, well, if you’re cool with blowing some precious coins on silly carnival games…” Luz singsonged in a mocking pitch, striding away to meet King at the table he’d selected as his first ‘target of conquest.’ Their companion was already left in a tizzy, swearing up and down at the bored stand owner counting the demon’s currency that the game was rigged from the start.

“I literally told you as we were leaving that every single one of these things is a scam, King.” Eda stepped up to the plate, patting the fuming creature upon his exposed skull with a roll of her luminous eyes. “I should know. Used to run this kinda gig back in the day, before I figured out some more stable income.”

“Not to be a party pooper, but if that’s the case, then why’d we bother coming at all?” Luz quirked a brow as she stooped down, grabbing the King of Demons about the waist and hoisting his furious form up to her shoulders as he raged.

From what she could tell, their housemate had attempted his luck with a standard carnival ring-toss game, an array of standing pins offering themselves as targets across the countertop. She was about to make a joke regarding the tiny creature’s throwing abilities, lips curling in amusem*nt at the thought – only for her growing smile to drop away as the thing sprouted insectile legs, skittering across the board chaotically before dropping into a new position, and retracted its horrid bug limbs.

“That’s because there’s always a trick to these kinds of things.” The older woman gave a mischievous wink, throwing a handful of glimmering coins onto the splintered tabletop. “And I know every single one of ‘em.”

The planeswalker and her elevated friend watched in mild surprise as the Owl Lady scooped up the cheap wooden rings, curling her wrist back with a look of concentration – and then flicking the discus onto the mobile peg with unerring accuracy.

“Nice shot, ma’am.” Even the clerk looked a little interested at the display, his tired eyes roaming over the witch’s display of skill.

Her signature smirk morphed into a full-blown fanged smile.

“I’m not finished just yet.”

Every remaining ring afterwards found its home atop the horned heads of the enchanted pins, dropping snugly upon their crowns in spite of the frantic dodges they attempted. The employee looked genuinely impressed as he handed over a large, stuffed cyclops selected by a joyous King, wishing them a good evening as the party departed their first target of the night.

“Wow, Eda. That was crazy!” The diminutive demon buzzed with excitement, even as the pale witch magicked his prize back to the house with a brief bout of teleportation. “With how good you are at carnival games, maybe you should take over the whole business. I bet if you challenged the owner to a blood duel, you’d be the most powerful carnival witch on the Isles!”

Luz giggled at the ridiculous suggestion, glancing towards the preening woman as they wandered the boisterous fair.

“King’s right, though – it was pretty impressive.” She leaned her head back into soft, furry belly cradling her scalp, feeling the miniature demon’s clawed paws thread through her hair. “Where’d you learn something like that? Were you a circus performer too, or something?”

“Nope!” Eda popped the word on her lips, giving them a smug look in return. “I’m no slack at games like that, but the real trick is handling whatever garbage twist they like to toss in on top.” The older witch counted off the tips of her fingers, golden fang glittering in the torchlight as her head tilted backwards. “Normally, you’d wanna do something like enchant the rings to home in, knock out the little monsters they use as targets, distract the carny – whatever you can pull off. But all I had to do was throw in a little telekinesis.” She waggled her claws at the pair, Owlbert rising into the air with a startled hoot as Luz felt streamers of blue mana twist around them. “Told you I’d been practicing. Now – let’s find another victim!”

Her point made for the moment, Eda the Owl Lady took the lead, triumphantly tearing through the offered tents with her laughing companions acting as her guide. The quartet stopped at a number of games as the starry night sky burned overhead, approaching each contest eagerly.

They would head the charge in turns, with King straddling the mage’s collar imperiously, speaking down to the various stand owners as if they were lowly peasants in place for his amusem*nt. The demon tossed darts from his perch at bobbing balloon targets with a marksman’s eye, his ammunition left lighter than air with a quick flicker of Eda’s magic from her position behind the pair.

Luz handled the more traditional throwing games, winding up pitches and free-handing doughy sports balls at stacks of cans and metal hoops with easy confidence. She was certainly no slouch with her aim at the counter, but their true ace in the hole was the Owl Lady, snapping targets free of their cleverly hidden restraints and swatting defensive traps away before they could even launch into the air. Nothing could stop the mage and friends as they tore through the competition, racking up countless prizes for the taking.

When Eda’s turn came to step up to plate, Luz and King worked in tandem to assist the pale witch. While she was normally plenty capable of handling the trickery present at each of the carnival’s businesses, the duo were just as helpful with throwing off active sabotage by avaricious employees. Distracting carnies with conversation and inane questions, exaggeratedly invading personal space and loudly discussing their desired winnings – one notable occasion even involved the mage pitching forward intentionally, flinging a flailing King into the stand owner’s face just as the witch moved to smash Eda’s throw from the sky. They retreated quickly, throwing half-hearted apologies over their shoulders as the demon cradled his newest addition to the pile of stuffed animals at the Owl House, grinning and chuckling all the while.

Most of the winnings were oversized plush animals or cheap toys, but it was more the spirit of the event than any real desire for their earnings – though King was more than happy to take the women’s share of their accumulated hoard with overt glee.

The night progressed as such for a good while, with Eda transporting their ill-earned goods back to the homestead after each victory so that their hands were left free for further mischief. Luz mulled over the moral implications of scamming genuine cheats game after game, but decided to put aside her qualms for the evening and simply enjoy time spent in good company and leave the ethical considerations for the following morning.

However, one stand in particular obstructed their path to domination of the Night Fair’s games, and worst of all, it was one run by a figure Eda seemed to recognize as they marched up to the table, her expression sagging with exasperation at the sight.

“Oh, great.” Her eyes narrowed in a shrewd glare at the sleazy grin on the employee’s face. “This chump. Just my luck.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Eda the Owl Lady!” The burly witch drawled with a slight twang, leaning an elbow on the counter as the other palm sat at his waist. His thick, bushy brows waggled confidently at the unamused woman while his unfriendly smile widened beneath a coarse black beard. “Can’t say I’ve seen you around these parts for quite a chunk o’ time, hun. How’ve you been?”

“Better since I kicked your keister to the curb, Margus.” Irritation seeped into the older woman’s tone as she glared flatly into the smug look on the carny’s face. “I see you’re still running this rinky-dink racket without me.”

“One that you helped me set up, lest we forget.” His broad hands swept outwards dramatically, indicating the flashing sign above that proclaimed the game stand as ‘Magnificent Margus’ Ferocious Firelegs.’

“Excuse me? I told you one time about a weird human weapon I saw in a book somewhere, and you turned it into some cruddy carnival gimmick that nobody besides me even slightly understands.”

The young mage examined the table as they bickered back and forth, taking in the alien set-up with a growing sense of disbelief as she realized just what, exactly, the male witch was trying to imitate. A row of flipping wooden bullseyes faced them across the tent’s width, with a collection of strangely carved… staffs resting atop the table before her. It took a moment of inspection for her to understand what she’d picked up – a hunk of enchanted wood shaped like a naked leg, the foot hooked into a stock at one end, with a crude trigger poking from the ankle.

Buen senor en el Cielo. It was supposed to be a primitive gun – or more specifically, the approximation of one by somebody that had clearly misunderstood the definition of a ‘firearm.’

“Ah, for such a smart woman, you’ve got no imagination where it counts.” The so-called Margus shook his head despondently, before turning his attention to the bemused human mage at his table. “What say you, little lady? Wanna give my honest business a try?” He leaned in, chest swelling with breath as he boasted carelessly. “Not a soul has managed to best it so far.”

“Uh… sure, I guess.” She eyeballed the oddly shaped wooden log in her grasp with growing suspicion. “Are these things safe? Like, even slightly?”

“Of course, missy.” The greasy man’s voice grew mocking, making Luz’s choler flare in response. “So long as you know how to use it. Most folk don’t, after all.”

I definitely know more than you, tu idiota baboso.

She took aim without another word, vague recollections of pixelated games she’d held little interest in as a youth filtering through her memory. Luz wouldn’t describe herself as being someone with much experience regarding guns during her time on Earth, but it was nearly impossible to live in the United States without at least surface-level exposure to the controversial weapons.

Her first few shots of blazing fireballs went somewhat wide, a combination of undeveloped marksmanship and shoddy construction playing equal parts in her poor luck. The fizzle of a buzzing spell circle washing over her from behind, however, told the mage that Eda had provided some assistance with the crude tool – and as she expected, the next squeeze of the trigger blasted apart a wooden target with smooth ease.

It was child’s play to down the remainder of the firing range after that point, confidence trickling back in with the support of the Owl Lady’s humming enchantment in place. The Magnificent Margus could only watch in stupefied horror, jaw agape at the scene, as his con was dismantled nearly effortlessly.

Luz tossed the smoking pole back onto the table with smug satisfaction at his slack expression, giving the unpleasant man a guileless, winning smile in return.

“That was pretty fun – not too hard, though.” The mage presented her upturned palms to the shellshocked witch. “Prize, please!”

Eda managed to contain her mirth as they left the glowering man’s table with another plush toy, her brow and lips twitching as she maintained the façade of easy relaxation – but the moment they were out of earshot, she belted out with a howl of laughter that nearly knocked her to the ground.

“Oh, to see the expression on his face!” She swiped the tears of glee from her eyes as she stood straight, a few delayed peals of laughter sneaking from her lips as her humor died down. “It was almost worth knowing that prick just to see him look like you robbed him blind with a smile.”

“And the human technology!” King declared, pointing one adorable paw to the sky. “I never knew it held so much potential for destruction!” He peeked over the edge of her scalp, gazing down into her eyes with his own bright yellow vision. “Luz, when I rule the Isles one day, will you be my first Warlord-in-Chief? I know we’ve seen you fight before, but with that kind of power, nobody could stand before us. We’d be unconquerable!”

“Sounds like a plan to me, buddy.” Her fingers reached up, stroking across his exposed belly and drawing a giggle from the energetic demon as she tickled him.

“All this counter-scamming is working up a real appetite.” Eda yawned into her wrinkled palm, waving her free hand towards the distant edge of a break in the tents where delicious smells drifted from. “Let’s grab some dinner real quick, and then we’ll hit the shops after - see if we can’t dig up some juicy info and other goodies.”

Carnival food on the Boiling Isles was exactly as Luz expected – greasy, spicy, and likely rife with demonic corruption, but goodness was it tasty. Someone with a less hardened palette might have been more physically disturbed by the harsh foodstuffs on offer amongst the peoples of the Demon Realm, but living on what one could find in jungles and urban ruins had left the mage resistant to easy upsets. As it was, the fried meats and mashed potato-esque tubers settled heavily in her gut, leaving her dozing on the bench they’d claimed while her companions finished their own meals.

A flash of white – and a surge of Déjà vu - had her eyes snapping open, head swiveling to track the pair of white cloaks skirting the edge of the impromptu food court. For a second, she felt doubt creeping in on her assumptions – but as one of the figures turned, long blue locks draping from the interior of their hood, Luz knew she’d recognized their forms correctly.

Lilith Clawthorne was absorbed in conversation with her apprentice, paying little mind to her immediate surroundings, which was likely why she had yet to spot Eda’s flamboyant mane of silver hair just yet. The young planeswalker debated alerting her friends to the possible threat, feeling a thread of strangely placed guilt as she considered it, but was distracted from her ruminations when Amity Blight threw her head back in a carefree laugh at some comment from her mentor. Luz even managed to catch a glimpse of the self-satisfied smile Lilith wore at the reaction, just before she turned her head back to the cheap food stand they’d stopped before.

Relaxing into her seat, the mage hid a small grin behind her fingers as she realized just what ‘arrangements’ the elder Clawthorne had made for herself and the coven deputy that Amity had mentioned. It was honestly rather sweet, seeing the pair of them seemingly so content together.

She perked back up, however, as the younger witch scanned the food court with a calmly astute eye, her gaze sweeping towards Luz – only to stop on the harsh red dress of the preoccupied Owl Lady. Amity’s eyes widened at the sight, but after a moment’s hesitation where no alarm was raised, the human mage threw an arm up in greeting. Her student caught the motion with her attentive look, and following a bout of visible deliberation, returned the wave with half a grin. The moment was short lived, though, as Lilith looked to the Blight girl once more, prompting her to drop the upturned limb in a hurry.

A frantic shared glance between Luz and Amity conveyed an entire agreement in only a second, and so the mage stood, blocking Eda and King’s line of sight from the coven witches even as Amity lead Lilith to a table by the wrist with food in hand.

They’d just have to catch up later. Maybe she’d see Willow or Gus at the fair, as well.

“You guys almost ready to go? We’re burning moonlight!” A mildly conspicuous stretch of her arms obscured any remaining visibility of Lilith and Amity as they moved out of sight, drawing a bemused look at the motion from the Owl Lady.

“About done with this, yeah.” Eda stood, tossing the remains of her supper into a flaming brazier with a whoosh of hungry flames. “Let’s hit the sales stands, see if we can’t find some good deals.”

King scurried after the pair, hurriedly tossing aside his meal’s refuse as he rushed to catch up with their retreating forms.

Browsing the wares set out for the Night Fair was no less interesting or awe-inspiring as the rest of the event. Countless artifacts and curiosities winked from their resting places, sometimes literally, as the full bounty of the mildly illicit Night Market was brought to bear. Luz’s gaze ran over shimmering illusory advertisem*nts and glimmering jewelry, exotic animals and fanciful clothes woven through with buzzing enchantments.

Some of the locations were proper shops, their wares spilling into the streets on display for the passing public. Others were rickety stands gussied up to draw the eye, their beautiful goods no less appealing for their cheap surroundings. Almost all of them relied heavily upon amusing and ridiculous wordplay for their shop names, some of which had Luz giggling at the sight as they passed by on their quest for information.

Their first stop was a hole-in-the-wall bookstore, its exterior face unfolding into their line of sight like a quantum rose as the group drew closer. The mage was left blinking, disoriented by the secretive illusion as Eda passed through the front door as if she owned the place. She and King were left to browse as the Owl Lady made small talk with the building’s proprietor, rifling through countless arcane tomes of varied and ancient lore.

They moved at a relaxed pace after that, occasionally stopping in at arbitrary locations as Eda wound her way through the packed walkways of the market with the confidence of an intimately familiar patron. None of the stores seemed to carry anything human-related – a fact that had both the witch and mage frowning in consternation – but their efforts went undaunted, with the older woman pursuing any noteworthy gossip from the local salespeople she chose to schmooze up to. Between stops, they would visually peruse stands in passing, with Luz consulting the excitable King of Demons on his thoughts for various articles of clothing.

Seeing as he had little experience in maintaining his appearance, the commentary was mostly unhelpful and unnecessarily violent. But she appreciated his insight anyway.

A handful of clothes purchases later, all on Eda’s payroll, and they were no better off from where they had begun for the evening. Luz did her best not to let the disappointing outcome of their search dampen her mood too badly – there were always more avenues of research. She sincerely doubted that two worlds, so closely linked as to have one know of the other even without consistent contact, would be completely isolated.

And in the moment – watching galaxies swirl by overhead, hearing the conversation and laughter around her, basking in the warm presence of friends - it wasn’t too difficult to let go of her troubles for just a little while.

Their night concluded with a final stop at the outdoor food court for a second time, with Eda insisting they pass through before retiring for the evening. She wouldn’t say what for, but from King’s sly looks directed towards the mage, they were planning on some kind of surprise for Luz.

Hopefully it wouldn’t involve body parts like the last carnival she went to. The planeswalker had been left feeling unclean for weeks after watching that Rakdos nonsense years ago.

Seated at a park bench once more, the witch and demon seemed to be keeping an eye on the sky while they conversed, anticipatory expressions on their faces. Luz opted to follow their lead, tracing impossibly distant star clusters with her gaze as she awaited whatever the finale for the Night Fair was supposed to be.

“Come on…” The pale woman muttered, staring unerringly upwards. “They used to be a lot quicker on the show than this…”

As the words slipped from her mouth, a searing whistle split the air – and far above, a brilliant cluster of sparks blasted outwards with a shriek, skipping across the sky in bursts of color. The mage let out an involuntary gasp at the sight, eyes widening in wonder as ensorcelled fireworks split the evening air.

“There we go!” Eda crowed, leaning back to enjoy the display. “Just about anybody can spell up some shiny lights, but the folks who do work for these fairs really go hard on their shows.”

Luz didn’t have any intelligent commentary to add, simply basking in the fantastical explosives over their heads as the rockets and mortars expanded outwards into billowing, animated shapes. Roaring dragons chased twisting serpents through the skies, fading out with the expenditure of their enchantments while wheeling spikes of fire and ice danced across the skyline. More blasted the evening quiet with earth-shaking rumbles and piercing screams, a luminous warzone erupting across the heavens for all to see.

It was almost indescribably beautiful. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d seen fireworks with her mami before things had fallen apart.

She didn’t fully register King hopping up into her lap as he nestled into her chest, or the pale arm that wrapped around her shoulders and dragged them into a loose embrace. But the warmth of their presence chased away the last of her worries, as Luz let loose an overjoyed laugh in the grasp of her friends.

Any niggling thoughts on Eda’s linguistic oddities for the night faded away like the falling sparks far, far above.

Amity didn’t return to the Owl House for the remainder of the weekend, a fact that Luz tried not to let dishearten her as she went about her normal schedule, practicing various spells by herself as she kept one eye on the forest beyond.

She’d felt like they had made solid progress towards getting the coven deputy to lower some of her barriers, but… it was what it was. She’d just have to keep trying when the opportunity arose.

A quick check-in with Willow and Gus revealed that they had, in fact, visited the Night Fair themselves alongside their respective families and that a good time was had all-around. She was glad to hear they’d enjoyed their weekend festivities as much as she had, though it was a shame that they hadn’t been able to meet at the time.

Beyond the snippets of conversation stolen from Eda’s borrowed scroll, no further signs of her remaining friend were found by the time the next week began.

It was with some shock, then, that Luz caught sight of Amity’s cloaked form coming out of the thick brush in a hurry, the pale girl’s head hunched low as she marched up to the porch.

“Heyya, Amity! I didn’t see you all weekend after the fair.” She raised a hand in greeting to the approaching witch, clambering to her feet from the rough porch patio. “Thanks for not making a big fuss with Lilith the other night. The last thing anybody needed was Eda and her sister starting a fist fight in the middle of…”

She finally took in Amity’s features as the young witch drew closer, and Luz ground to a stop as she saw the girl’s face – drawn and bloodless, left even paler than her usual appearance.

“Are you alright?” The mage stepped forward, hands low as she addressed the flighty Blight girl, treating her like a wounded animal. “You look like you saw a ghost. An actual, scary one. You know what I mean.”

Amity’s fingers were digging into one arm, her eyes refusing to meet the human mage’s – until she finally drew in a steadying breath, pulling her shoulders back with determination as she finally matched her companion’s gaze.

“Luz. I…” Her throat bobbed uncertainly with a nervous swallow. “I need a favor from you. An… enormous one. And – there’s no one else I can ask. You’re the only person who’s called me their ‘friend’ for the last year, and it’s just – the rest of the Coven can’t do anything -”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down.” She gently clapped the other girl’s shoulders, keeping her tone low and calm as she met the shorter witch’s gaze. “I’m always up for helping out, but I need to know what’s going on first.”

Amity drew in another gulp of air, letting her eyes squeeze shut for only a moment before trying once again.

“I’ve been given a quest. By – by the Emperor, himself.” Luz blinked in shock at the statement, but didn’t interrupt. “It’s… bad. Lilith said the last time he sent anyone for this, they – no one came back. Even he couldn’t do it alone. And worse -” The law witch winced at the thought. “I’ve been forbidden from requesting assistance from anyone within the Emperor’s Coven. As a… test. Of my abilities.”

“Okay, that’s… pretty concerning.” The mage admitted her growing concern at the admission, but didn’t release her unsteady student just yet. “But where do I come in? What’s Belos expecting you to do that he couldn’t?”

“Lilith says that – that the Emperor is always really specific with his demands.” Her grave, golden gaze bored into Luz’s own soft, brown eyes. “He might just want to see what happens if new blood gets thrown at the problem. And if I don’t want to fail this test, I have to make do without the Coven. But there’s – technically – nothing wrong with help from an outsider.” She paused, discomfort flickering over her expression. “At least, that will be my defense. Assuming I – we – survive something like this.”

She took in Amity Blight’s tense posture, the tightness she could feel coiled beneath the girl’s shoulders, the way genuine concern rattled her voice - and she vividly recalled the countless times her adventures had seen her staring down the barrel of a proverbial gun, with no one by her side to provide a much-needed lifeline.

It took her only a moment of deliberation.

“Where are we going, and when do we leave?”

Chapter 18

Chapter Text

The northern chain of the Boiling Isles swelled like a blister upon the scarred bones of the fallen Titan, a bubbling mass of wild growth and dense swamplands suckling at gigantic vertebrae. Flowing tributaries snaked about the drooping marsh trees, dotting in and out of sight as Luz and Amity flew overhead on their borrowed staff. Even at the height they approached from, the mage could smell the foul stench of rotting undergrowth wafting upwards like a blanket of vile steam. They swung between limp vines and oozing fronds, chittering wildlife calls echoing through the choked early morning air. The wetlands were so bursting with life, the region could almost rightfully be described as a burgeoning jungle.

Worst of all was the sickening crawl of greedy black mana, teasing the edges of her senses like indecipherable whispers across the surface of her mind the further they descended into the maw of the beast.

Luz was… much less certain about her participation in the coven witch’s quest, with the added context. She didn’t need a well-honed magical intuition to know they were unwelcomed in the shadow of the Titan’s gaping maw, the edge of the tremendous skull looming like the fanged gates of hell across the horizon’s belt.

She was shaken from the growing feeling of foreboding dread as Amity spoke up for the first time since they’d taken flight.

“This is as far as Lilith’s staff can carry us. We’ll have to keep moving on foot.”

The duo set down in the first clearing they could source, a break in the foliage revealing a shallow pool of tepid water. Swamp slime sloshed over the waterproof leather of Luz’s worn boots, eliciting a grimace of disgust as the residual heat oozed through her footwear. She risked a glance towards the law witch, taking in her uncertain stance while Amity attempted to decipher an outdated stretch of frayed map with a furrow in her brow, neither of them paying any mind to the retreating stave winging out of sight. Thankfully, the other girl had the sense to bring an appropriate outfit, and her breeches had been inundated against the omnipresent moisture with firm enchantments alongside her flatfooted boots.

For all that Amity was nominally the leader of their little expedition, Luz was much more in her element within the swamps. She’d spent years trekking across countless examples of rough terrain, and the waterlogged marshes of Zendikar’s floating island chains were no different.

“Give me a moment…” A sparking spell circle leapt from the witch’s fingers, encircling the crude map before shooting off into the underbrush, leaving a twinkling trail in its wake. “That should get us moving in the right direction.” Golden eyes, full of trepidation, met Luz’s own. “Are you ready?”

Both girls were far from certain, but the planeswalker put on her best brave face, nodding confidently as she strode before the pale coven deputy.

“I’ve got point. Just yell if anything sticks out.”

Thumbing the soft leather sheathing her survival knife - retrieved alongside her trusty pack and staff before leaving the Owl House - Luz drew the notched blade from its resting place as crimson and emerald mana twined over the weapon’s length. The magic fanned out into a wide head, extending the reach of her tool and allowing the parting of thickened brush with ease. Sweeping the infused blade before her, the mage pressed on into the darkened muck of the northern Isles, diligently tracking Amity’s navigation spell with company in tow.

Tromping through snarled roots and dangerous underwater pitfalls took the better part of an hour, most of which was spent in silence as the pair hesitantly pressed onwards into the unknown. It felt sanctimonious, trying to shatter the fearful quiet that surrounded them, in spite of the ceaseless sounds of lively flora and fauna filling the wetlands. After a half hour of mindlessly chopping through branches and vines, however, Luz felt her composure slipping enough to try and make conversation once more, giving a despondent sigh when a slick tree limb slapped her across the face.

“I hope Eda and the boys don’t freak out when they see the note I left them.” Her grumble was halfhearted at best, more full of worry than irritation. “Are you sure we couldn’t have just – you know, told them what was happening? Maybe asked the all-powerful Owl Lady for a little assistance? Or, like... wait a day or two to get ready?”

“Not if I was actually expecting any kind of help, no. And a wise woman doesn't keep the Emperor waiting on a directly delivered mission, especially if she's bending the rules.” The tense girl snapped back defensively; arms raised at her sides to steady her stride across uneven soil. “Besides, there’s no way I’d have been able to convince her to do something this dangerous when she barely knows me. If I mentioned it to her while you were around, she’d probably forbid you from going, too.” Her eyes narrowed as they surveyed the sucking mire with distaste.

“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m a strong, independent mage!” She felt the need to preserve her own dignity, at least in this case. “If I want to go on wild magical adventures in yucky swamps, then nobody can stop me.”

“Not even if she sat you down and told you about every horrible, hungry thing living out here?” Amity’s eyes darted between trunks and roots, alert for any sign of ravenous dangers. “Or maybe explained to you just what, exactly, the Emperor’s Coven does to wild witches it catches?”

“Nope. Not even then.” Her declaration was loud and proud, making the coven witch wince at the echoing tones of her voice amongst the swaying plants. “Because I never leave a friend in need if I can help it. And I love trips like this, even if it tends to involve things trying to kill us. That’s just part of the appeal, honestly.”

The pale girl hummed in response, a note of warm amusem*nt entering her voice.

“Maybe that’s your real magical ability. Saying something enough times to make it come true.”

“Oh…? Oh!” Luz halted her march, startling Amity as she performed an about-face to meet her gaze. “So, you finally admit that you don’t hate spending time with me, huh? It only took you, what -” She briefly counted off the tips of her fingers, drawing a short huff of laughter from the law witch. “A week or so before you cracked! Dang. Guess I’m just that good, huh?”

“Yes, yes, rub it in that you’ve browbeaten me into enjoying our time together by the slightest amount.” The statement was given with a roll of her eyes, matching the smothered grin on Amity’s lips – but the enjoyment was short lived, before nerves crept back over them both, and silence reigned once more.

The oppressive atmosphere of croaking, whistling swamp creatures amidst unseen creaks and splashes had Luz gritting her teeth as they trekked forward. Knowing the Isles, there was likely something monstrous and hungry lurking just around the creek bend, waiting for two hapless young women to stumble right into its reach.

She was truly regretting not overwriting the pale witch’s suggestions, and just asking Eda for help as it were.

“They say this is where the Titan was killed.” Amity’s low murmur was only a hair louder than their surroundings, the other girl clearly spooked by the grasping claws of the swamp. “Something monstrously powerful struck it in the collar. Rumor has it you can even find the crater, to this day.”

Luz didn’t respond beyond an intrigued grunt, hoping that her brief response hid the shiver that ran down her spine at the tale. The sheer quantity of creeping black mana definitely felt like the death of something here at least. Most likely the integrity of her boots, in all honesty.

After another half hour of miserably stomping through sucking mud and swarming clouds of insects, the ground began to angle noticeably downwards, transitioning to bubbling creeks and rocky hillside in place of befouled riverbed. The looming swamp willows didn’t thin at any point, but their growth patterns became much more visibly precarious as the soil warped into a slick slope.

It was with some surprise that the young mage stumbled headfirst into the opening to a chasm, her waterlogged boots sending gravel skittering over the edge as she halted.

“Uh. Hey, Amity.” Her voice was faint, even to Luz’s own ears. “Just how much of that story is made up? Because… I think we might’ve found your crater.”

The witch stepped into place beside her, tapered ears flattening against her scalp as she took in a sharp breath.

Hungry jungle gave way for the abrupt drop of a jagged gorge, slippery mud and river water flowing into a gaping maw rent through the earth. Brave, scraggly plant life clung to the sepulchral pit’s cliffs, treacherously steep paths winding downwards for the courageous soul to clamber across. A single, cracked spinal segment of the Titan rose from the earth like a great beast, embedded within the softened slope of the depression wall. And far below, nearly five stories into the scarred earth, was the hooded opening to a blackened cavern the width of a house.

At its feet, the shimmering navigation spell ended without warning. The air was still with leaden promise – no birds called or lizards squeaked in this place. Raw black magic was so thick in the air, it could almost be tasted, funneling ominously into the cave entrance.

It would be beautiful, if it didn’t feel as if they were set to enter a voracious predator’s den.

“Well.” The mage’s voice crackled, prompting her to clear the phlegm from her throat and try to speak again. “I guess the only way forward is down.”

“I guess it is.” Amity’s response was just as shaken, which did little for either girl’s sense of confidence.

They descended together, inching their way across narrow cliff faces with hands clasped to each other’s shoulders for stability. Securing her blade as the enchantment fizzled out, Luz forged the path ahead, Amity so close behind she could feel the girl’s warm, stuttering breath across her nape every time a chunk of soil was dislodged with a careless step. The path was thankfully wide enough for them both, allowing some minor breathing room, and the two mages made their way as cautiously as possible towards the looming cave below.

As Luz’s hand brushed past the exposed vertebra, though, the slim walkway winding about the titanic bone, she was gripped by a sudden and awful sense of familiarity. It wasn’t until her foot slipped a bit, soft mud giving way and leaving her grasping the revealed carcass for support, that she realized why.

I’ve done this before. I’ve been here before. In my dreams…

Eda’s blasé dismissal of her dreamscape walks felt much more biting, in that moment.

“Are you okay?” Amity’s panicked voice shot across her revelation, bringing the planeswalker’s attention back to their precarious surroundings.

“Yeah. It’s – I’m fine. Let’s just keep moving.” Her stomach flipped with dread as she recalled the other sordid details of her nightly visions. Luz muttered a prayer under her breath to a distant god she wasn’t sure she held faith in as their descent continued onwards.

Finally, after lengthy and nerve-wracking minutes of traversing the damp cenote, the girls arrived at the flattened bottom of the chamber. They both spent a minute catching their breath and firming their resolve, before stepping up to the widened mouth of the underground opening.

Light barely penetrated the inky blackness of the tunnel curving down and away.

“Are you ready?” Amity looked both expectant and hesitant all at once, hemming and hawing at the unnerving second descent.

“As much as I can be when we’re going spelunking into a spooky cave, I guess.” Witchlights sprouted from her palm as Luz stepped forward, easing her staff from its strap and keeping it low by her side. The coven witch stepped in beside her, and together, the girls felt their way across the moistened stones of the crevasse.

“The instructions I received from the Emperor mentioned a set of doors leading into an artificial chamber further within.” Whispers bounced and skipped across the slick surface of rock walls, mingling with the wet slap of soggy boots. “Keep an eye out for anything witchmade on the sides of the cavern.”

“Gotcha.” The mage gave a thumbs-up without turning, focused on squinting into the oppressive darkness that her werelights bravely combatted.

A low, ringing hum interrupted her vigil, however, and Luz tilted her gaze towards Amity just in time to catch sight of a fading spell circle arcing about the other woman’s waist, unfolding into a wire-wrapped pommel sticking from shadowed leather bindings that trailed down to her ankles.

“Wait a sec.” They came to a brief halt, her exaggerated whisper pitching upwards in disbelief. “You know how to use a sword like that?”

“It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise.” The law witch co*cked her head as she regarded Luz, confusion on her face. “Most members of the Coven have some kind of close combat weapon. Our recruiting posters with Lilith in them even have her holding a broadsword – I have a hard time believing you missed all of the ones posted around town.”

She had, in fact, noticed the abundance of propaganda sheets smattered across every other public wall, but that wasn’t the point of her question.

“Just wondering why you weren’t sparring with that before, is all.” Their slow forward pace resumed, conversation returning to a mindful murmur as the girls advanced.

“Ah. Well…” Luz could imagine her companion’s wince without even seeing her features in the dim lighting. “I didn’t want to possibly hurt you, is all. Live weapons aren’t always necessary for training in magic use.”

“Wow, I see how it is.” She swooned melodramatically, hand to her heart in a fit of emotional wounding. “No faith in me or my staff. Don’t lie – I can hear it in your voice.”

Amity snorted at the mage’s theatrics, one gloved finger tapping anxiously at the sheathed hilt of her blade.

“I figured you preferred not accidentally being decapitated during a friendly lesson. Maybe I should’ve been using it, if I knew you were going to act like this.”

Luz gave her own chuckle at the statement, and when silence descended upon them once more, it was greatly lessened in its tension.

Continuing into the looming abyss, the pair clambered through what seemed an unending quantity of twists and turns through narrowing stone corridors. There was no real deviations in the path, only a painfully lengthy walk through blackened territory that left them disoriented regarding the passage of time. Soft dripping of condensed moisture was their only companion, no unholy or voracious creatures leaping from shadowed alcoves to interrupt the monotony.

In a way, the perceived wait for an assault was worse than any actual attack.

However, what awaited them at the end of their long hike was equally frustrating in its own regard.

“Oh, come on!” The coven witch flung her arms up in aggravation, giving up all pretense of stealth as she attempted to drill a hole through the cave-in before them with only her eyes. “All this way, and for what? A giant, impassable mess.”

Luz merely hummed in thought, crouching before the mass of fallen stone and running a hand lightly over the boulders before them, searching for any sign of easy removal.

“Maybe not.” The mage stood, cracking her knuckles and bracing her shoulders as green and red mana trickled through her connection to the aether, stirred by her mental command. “I’ve moved some big chunks of dirt before, so I should be able to get this out of the way. Just gotta be smart about it, is all.”

Manipulating the damp rock of the cavern without causing an even larger collapse was slow, painfully detail-oriented work. A quick burst of shattering magic would pulverize enormous stones to crumbling dust, leaving just enough of a vacancy for a new, sturdy column of stone to be supernaturally speared upwards into the ceiling as a makeshift strut. Several minutes into her efforts, Amity joined the planeswalker with a handful of swirling gestures and murmured commands to summon abominations for basic labor. Between the two of them, a relatively stable path was carved through the obstruction, allowing them to discover the first signs of prior habitation on their journey into the unknown.

Rotting wood carts sat, splintered and empty, at the top of a mellow slope that led down to their work site. Various other examples of mundane and magical mining tools littered the widening tunnel, further evidence of intentional tampering by interested parties.

“Somebody definitely wasn’t keen on having any visitors.” She noted quietly, flipping over a rusting pickax with the toe of her boot. At her side, Amity gave a short grunt of assent, tossing a disintegrating handful of wood and stone to the side as they examined the site.

“The real question is why they would block off the only entrance we could find with something that permanent.” The witch’s sharp gaze roamed over the debris, picking out individual items of interest like a hunting eagle. “There has to be another way in and out – otherwise whoever dropped those boulders never expected to leave.”

Skeletons clawing from their graves, chattering and shrieking as they lunged for the cowering girl in her nightmares –

“…Let’s just hope they were able to get out through an escape door.”

It wasn’t long after that they discovered the true interior of the underground construction.

“Whoa.” She blinked rapidly, taken aback by the sudden looming appearance of carved stonework around one of however many bends they’d traversed. Great marble columns, shot through with veins of layered minerals, stretched organically from the floor like tendons to flank what was once a grand entryway for the structure. Whatever form the massive doors had once taken was now obscured by the pile of rubble they’d been reduced to, scattered pieces of lumber and rock littering the floor with only a hint of the sculpture they once formed. The mage scanned the fractured remnants for any hint of a match to the portal that she’d witnessed in her dreams, but the damage made such inspection near impossible.

Their bobbing cloud of light spheres were the only thing that allowed them to see in an ocean of encompassing darkness.

Luz shared a silent look with her grim companion, before the girls stepped through in tandem. The doorway flashed with a zigzagging line of magic that had them flinching, stepping away from the activated trap – only for the light to dissipate with a low hum. From further within the entry hall, ancient architecture rumbled and creaked with hidden promise that echoed through the domed passage.

“Well.” Amity sounded falsely cheerful, her insincere tone doing little to disguise the gnawing worry beneath. “At least we know the enchantments holding this place together still work.”

“And so does anything else inside.” Her pale friend gave the planeswalker a flatly unamused look. “Sorry, sorry. Not helping.”

Forging ahead into the unknown finally revealed the interior proper of the sepulchral depths. Luz stepped into the first hint of provided illumination since entering the cavern, dispelling her witchlights with a thought as she and Amity took in the fading glory of an ancient temple.

An expansive central chamber acted as a branching hub from which blackened tunnels sprouted, the walls and ceiling encased in painstakingly hand-carved runic script that flowed over the construction’s boundaries. Eerily quiet chandeliers and braziers burned far above, hung on rusting chains that swung without sound as they cast roving shadows across the battered floor. Chipped and blasted murals curled around the crypt’s centerpiece, vague images of humanoids kneeling in supplication interspersed by stretches of dotted constellations. A foul, musty breeze circled the room, reeking of dust and decay as it swirled scattered debris lightly over smashed tilework and omnipresent tendrils of soft moss.

Dark magic swamped the chamber, oozing over and through the stonework like a hungering infestation. Luz tightened the mental defenses surrounding her magical senses, enduring the cold touch of curious mana with a harsh gulp. A quick glance at Amity showed no such discomfort on the other girl’s face – only a growing expression of wonder as she examined the secretive structure.

Dominating the middle of the room was a single plinth, a quintet of indentations wrapped about its carved crown. Only one space was occupied – a jet black chunk of hand-sized stone, swallowing light with its cut edges, sat in the forward socket.

“This place, it – this has to predate Emperor Belos’ reign.” The law witch’s voice was hushed with awe, a respectful whisper in the face of prehistoric achievement. “I haven’t had enough time to research any older languages of the Isles yet… but I can’t read any of these carvings. And the murals.” Amity stepped closer to the wall flanking the crumbling entryway, gently running a gloved hand across its surface. “I don’t see any sign of the Emperor’s crest, or anything else that the Coven uses for newer works. They always make sure to leave their mark on things like this.”

“Gotta be certain the propaganda is in tip-top shape, right?” Luz gave a weak swing of her arm to punctuate the jest, her short chuckle slipping away into the oppressive silence of the tomb as the coven deputy rolled her eyes at the heretical reply. “So… what exactly are we looking for down here? You never said.”

Her companion finally tore hungry eyes away from the extensive spread of primordial artwork, turning to regard the mage seriously for a moment.

“I was instructed to attempt breaching the inner chamber of whatever I found down here, and once inside, secure a number of writings regarding banned magics that the Emperor confirmed were somewhere within.”

“That is really, unhelpfully vague.” She gave Amity a look of mild disbelief. “They didn’t tell you anything else about what to expect down here? Like – I don’t know, hypothetically speaking – a giant horde of angry skeletons? Or something.” Luz received a blank expression in return. “Just throwing ideas out there.”

“As I said already – this is supposed to be a test of my abilities as a member of the Emperor’s Coven.” The coven witch sounded as if she were explaining something to a toddler, mid-tantrum. “So, no, I was not informed about what might be occupying this place. It’s expected that anyone competent enough to survive in the Coven would be able to handle most things that threaten them.”

“Sounds like a recipe for your employees dropping like flies, but hey. What do I know?” She threw her hands up in a ‘What can you do?’ gesture, slowly spinning about on her heel as she took in the decrepit bones of the hidden chamber. “I get the feeling this place is like one of those proving grounds you always see in fantasy movies, where they send the ‘chosen one’ to go find their ‘destiny’ or something. And almost die in the process.”

“Maybe.” Amity strode to the center of the chamber, ascending the shallow ring of stairs encircling the illuminated pulpit at its heart. “I guess the only way we’ll find out is if we do some exploration.”

“So long as this doesn’t turn out like Indiana Jones with a giant boulder trying to squish us.” She met her partner at the peak of the raised platform, peering down into the inky fractals of the pitch-black gem set into cracked concrete. On a hunch, the mage reached out, tapping a single finger against the hand cut precious stone – and her brows shot up as the valuable released a slim stream of shadow from invisible pores into the air.

“Hey, wait a sec! I think I know what this is.”

“Really?” The pale girl’s features scrunched up in curiosity as she leaned forward, staring into the mineral’s depths. “What do you think?”

“It’s a mana stone.” Following a flash of inspiration, she unshouldered her bulging pack, digging around within its canvas compartments until her palm surfaced with a small, silvered brooch clutched between fingers. “They’re portable sources of magic to help mages cast spells. Kinda uncommon, but not too rare that nobody ever uses them. Normally you can make them out of stuff attuned to different territories, like sapphires for blue mana.” She rolled the tiny signet across her hand, staring at the engraved symbol of the Gruul clans with a note of wistfulness. “This one’s a little different – if you pump some magic into it, the thing’ll actually double your input, though it’s got a cooldown. Pretty handy in a pinch.”

“Hmm. That is interesting.” Amity’s head tilted ever so slightly as she examined the sizable lump of gem. “If that’s the case, then what would this be made out of? Jet?”

“Or obsidian. Either works, really.” Pocketing the jewelry, she reached down, stroking a thumb over one of the empty sockets on the plinth consideringly. “And I’d bet… if there’s four more slots here…” A quick scan of the room confirmed her suspicions. “We’ve got four other tunnels to check out. I’m pretty bad at gambling, but if I had to guess? We’ll find another mana stone for each color inside.”

“It’s as good a working theory as any.”

They fell into step once again, cautiously edging into the disintegrating mouth of the first offshoot tunnel. Ghostly lights outlined their path, strung from the ceiling in enchanted clusters, dim orange painting the cracked walls in wild silhouettes that did little to ease either of their growing nerves.

Coming around the mild curve in the path brought them face to face with a lengthy chamber stretching a few dozen meters into the distance, a partially collapsed bridge the only forward passage to the end of the chamber. Luz could just make out the distant form of another small column, upon which was perched a floating piece of bloody crimson jewel.

Much more of immediate concern, however, were the enormous torches lining the walls and roaring with flames – from which she could spot engraved leylines, spread across the chamber’s expanse like clinging webs.

“Not gonna lie, I’m not liking the precedent this is setting.” The mage admitted, rubbing the back of her scalp as they examined the room with critical eyes. “I don’t think they could’ve made this trap any more obvious if there was literally a sign out front.”

“Regardless, we need some way to get across without being fried.” The witch’s golden gaze was narrowed in thought as she paced back and forth across the chamber’s entrance, tapping agitatedly at her sword hilt. “Let’s start with the obvious. Abomination – rise.”

A flick of her wrist brought forth an arcing puddle of goop that swiftly compiled itself into humanoid form, the melting purple golem giving a groan as it fully swelled into being before them.

“Retrieve the crystal.” There was no warmth in her tone for the sacrificial construct – only cold command.

The ruin’s trick was quick to give itself away as soon as the abomination crossed the threshold. A brilliant flare of light burst from the doorway, followed by an ominous thrum – and a barrage of fireballs jettisoned from the mounted torches, hurtling forward into the hapless automaton. Amity’s creation gamely attempted to cross the room under the withering assault, but only succeeded in pushing ahead by several meters before being evaporated by the steady stream of searing flames.

The two spellcasters stared at the flaming remains of the abomination in stunned silence.

“Let’s… give that another try.”

Several attempts later found their approach much more refined than simply applying force. Amity was capable of summoning and directing numerous abominations simultaneously – but greater numbers and increased size did little to shield the unfortunate constructs from meeting a fiery demise on its own. Their breakthrough, however, came with Luz’s realization during their determined discussion that the witch’s golems were inherently designed to be outfitted with additional protective equipment, and that they were only limited by her capabilities for creating them on the spot.

“Ooh! I’ve got an idea.” Fighting through the choked atmosphere of black mana left her feeling like the mage had fallen into the swamp on their trek to the subterranean lair, but she was able to dredge up enough blue magic to fuel her intended spell. She ran her hands over the abomination’s goopy frame, tugging humidity from the air and cycling out the ambient heat – leaving a growing coat of expanding ice across the artificial creature’s limbs.

“How thick can you make the ice?” Amity’s sharp mind caught onto the planeswalker’s plan without delay. “Can you do that to multiple abominations? How long will it last before the spell dissipates?”

With some careful testing and manipulation, their combined magics proved more than capable of taking on the chamber’s provided challenge. The girl’s efforts culminated in an enormous, lumbering golem – half ice, half animated sludge – lumbering across the gap and it absorbed countless blasts of furious fire from the structural defenses. It cleared the room without issue, snagging the distant gem in one tremendous paw – and with a snap, the incendiary trap deactivated. Bringing its prize back to its master, the abomination finally disintegrated with a low grunt as its damaged form surrendered to its wounds.

“Alright – that’s one down.” The witch swiped her gloved hand across her brow, wicking away the sweat spawned from exerting herself with rapid fire spellcasting for several long minutes – though the exhaustion did little to diminish the small, fierce grin blooming on her lips. “Let’s move on to the next. Hopefully it will be a bit easier.”

The central fixture accepted their treasure without complaint, the pulsing ruby slotted easily into place with the echoing groan of activated enchantments rumbling through the floor.

Unfortunately, their hopes went unanswered as further exploration soon uncovered. The second chamber was established very similarly to the first, a narrow crossing arcing over a fall into endless black – but there were no blazing torches in sight. In their place, hovering blue globes dominated the chamber, leaving it awash in a calming teal that belayed the invariably dangerous tricks that lay within.

Watching Amity’s first abomination be sent flying upwards by a telekinetic blast from the bridge tiles, slamming the poor thing so hard into the ceiling it splattered across the roof, quickly stripped their burgeoning confidence from completing the previous trial.

“This one seems a bit more… non-negotiable when it comes to getting past.” The green-haired girl seemed a little paler than normal after watching the demise of her construct – but when she met Luz’s gaze, her eyes hardened, shoulders setting with determination at the delivery of another complication. “Any suggestions?”

Vigorous trouble-shooting with the application of several thrown rocks and unlucky golems revealed that the only method to set off the gravitational pitfall was by making full contact with the floor. This left them a significant quantity of airspace to work with, though they found little agreement in how to cross it.

“I am not letting you throw yourself across the gap to grab the crystal.” Amity’s tone left no room for argument. “I don’t care if you can literally fly. That is an abysmal idea.”

“Well, your abominations can’t either!” The mage threw her hands up in frustration, mind churning furiously as she considered the obstacle before them. “What if – if I grew some vines across the gap, and climbed on those? Your big guys wouldn’t be able to do that either, before you say it. But I could definitely make it over without touching anything.”

“Personally, I’m wondering why you don’t just summon your phoenix and have him cross the room. With his wings.” Her stare burned into Luz’s features, conveying the seriousness of her refusal.

She hesitated at the suggestion, worrying at her lower lip as she felt the silky caress of black mana across her mental shielding once more. Odin might be what they needed, yes – but she shuddered every time magic flooded her soul in this horrid place. Luz felt unclean just sharing space with so much dark magic for so long, and it was like toying with tempting flames for every spell.

It was with mingled relief and concern that the mage felt resistance grate across her mindscape as she reached for the far-off flames of the phoenix’s inhuman soul, only to be rebuffed by the growling snarls of foul enchantments encircling the underground compound.

“Something’s blocking me out from summoning critters down here. I can’t tell if it’s the building itself, or what…” Turning from Amity’s skeptical expression, Luz shucked off her pack and hooded cloak, twirling her staff with one hand as she approached the chamber entrance. “Which means we give my plan a go.”

“Fine, since you’re feeling so suicidal.” The other girl’s tone was mildly acidic, but the sound of multiple abominations rising from the floor just in case made the mage give a little smile at the touching concern Amity showed for her. ‘Not friends’ – yeah, right.

Channeling wild magics through her living stave, Luz sheared off small slivers of the alien tool’s essence, letting them slip to the floor from one end as she poured her own stream of mana into the sprouts. Swelling and twisting, the expelled bundles of fiber grew rapidly into a pair of flailing emerald creepers, a poor man’s facsimile of a living, breathing saproling. The young mage lifted her creations into place, one on either wall flanking the doorway – and once they were anchored firmly into the stonework through questing tendrils, she shot a pulse of green magicka into the air with a jab of her staff.

Her two plant constructs shot forward in response, rocketing across the lethal chamber in the blink of an eye, before sinking into the ensorcelled brickwork with a crack. At her direction, curling spurts of growth shot across the width of the bridge, snagging their partners and twirling into sturdy handholds held taught over the central walkway, elevated just above the trapped stones.

“Good thing I never skipped Arm Day.” The mage jokingly flexed the slender muscles of her forearm, prompting Amity to stare at the pronounced bicep with a mixed expression on her face that Luz couldn’t place. Letting the thought slide for the moment, she allowed red and green mana to flood her limbs while giving a few practice hops, bouncing from heel to heel – before leaping up, and snagging the first of the vine handholds in her grasp.

A healthy fear for one’s life really helped keep things in perspective, and with her toes dangling only inches above the terrifying telekinetic trap that was the room’s bridge, Luz felt beads of sweat snake down her scalp while she hauled her way across the gap. She didn’t allow herself to look down, or back, only forward – lest she lose her nerve. It felt like an eternity before the mage reached the opposite side, not a hint of the invisible defenses revealing themselves in one last fatal glimpse, only discomfiting silence accompanying her strained journey.

Her greatest challenge was remaining airborne as she grabbed the blue gem, but to her relief, an audible hum flooded the room as the power source left its pedestal and entered her pocket. Out of an abundance of caution, however, she clambered her way back over the woven vines, throwing herself to the ground at a relieved Amity’s feet as she gasped for breath.

“You’ve proven your point, Miss Bodybuilder.” The witch’s voice bordered on hysterical, even as she smoothed her expression back into blank pleasure from Luz’s success. “Now, let’s never do something that crazy again.”

“A-Agreed.” Finally feeling her diaphragm calm, she accepted an offered hand from the coven deputy, hauling the mage back into a standing position as they returned to the primary chamber with the retrieval of her belongings.

Depositing the second jewel into its mirrored position upon the centerpiece, the girls made their way to the third trial awaiting them.

At first glance, the obstacle course laid before them seemed fairly straightforward. A series of faceted lanterns strung far above spun and shifted, shutters flipping open and closed to allow brilliant white beams of illumination dance across the floor, carving out a slowly shifting path of shadows that led to the small, twinkling form of glistening white quartz on the opposite wall.

They were disabused of that notion when a skittering column of pale light flowed over the first scouting abomination sent ahead, causing it to burst into spectral flames.

“What is this place’s obsession with burning people?” The mage couldn’t keep the exasperation from her voice, despite her efforts to put on a brave face.

Amity seemed similarly troubled, her gaze skating over the everchanging labyrinth before them as she worried at the hem of her glove.

“It might be possible to get an abomination across.” Her statement was low and contemplative, line of sight set upon their prize at the far end of the cavern. “Especially if you could do something to give it a boost of speed…”

“I only know how to affect things with actual muscles.” The planeswalker groaned, palming her face at the realization. “Which means I’m up to bat for this one, too.”

“Wait a moment, Luz.” The pale witch started, making an aborted motion to catch her companion’s shoulder. “There might be another way around this, we just have to -”

“Trust me, Amity. I’ve got this!” Red mana pressed through the sludge of clinging black magic, infusing her body with eldritch stamina once more despite the witch’s protests. The mage eyed the dancing pattern once more, clutching her staff tightly – before taking off with a lunge as the ancient machinery reset itself.

Darting across the uneven stones, Luz traced out the blurred edges of burning light, sprinting through the gap with a burst of inhuman velocity that nearly outpaced the shifting trap itself. She stuck to the largest expanses of shadow, leaving plenty of room for error as she charged boldly into danger. Her Olympic pace ate up meters at an impressive rate, bringing her just within reach of the glimmering gem, only a handful of enhanced paces away –

Just before the mana stone’s pedestal, a flood of harmful rays swelled into an impassable wall, the timing of the shift offset by her empowered speed just enough that Luz misjudged the distance.

A spike of panic drove mana through her body in a surge as she stumbled, staff swinging out in front of her – just in time to cast an umbrella of writhing vines from its tip as she skidded into the path of ghostly fire. She staggered for a moment, hearing the crackle and pop of torched plant flesh just above her ears, only increasing the animalistic fear nagging at her sensibilities. But ironclad resolve set in after a second of floundering, and the mage pushed ahead to secure her objective.

Her smile for Amity was shakier than the last, even as she triumphantly held out the crystal for her companion’s inspection. But the girl only gave her a stony look, swiping the prize from her grasp without a word as they backtracked once more.

“Alright, enough of this idiotic ‘hero’ nonsense.” The witch’s extended index finger collided with Luz’s collarbone as soon as the carved quartz was given a new home, her expression thunderous as she stared into the stunned girl’s visage. “You’ve been flighty and reckless since we walked in here. I’ve never heard you so pessimistic about anything magical or adventurous, either. So you’re going to tell me whatever’s wrong before somebody gets killed – or I’m sending you home.”

“W-Wait, I thought you needed help with this! Now you’re calling me out for doing the best I can right now?” She knew the moment the reflexive, defensive response left her mouth that it was the wrong thing to say, as Amity’s features only hardened further into a stubborn set.

“I’ll figure it out own my own. I always have before. So spill it.” Wow, the whiplash of feeling interrogated by someone so similarly to her mother was thoroughly disorienting.

Sitting heavily upon the worn step, head falling into her open hands, the mage loosed a stressed sigh as she tried to put her intuitive feelings into words.

She could make excuses, blame her devil-may-care attitude on bad habits spawned from plundering ruins alongside pilgrims and barbarians. But that wasn’t true, not really, not after numerous expeditions. Unlearning the worst of her collected tendencies had taken time well spent, dedicated to keeping her alive.

The issue stemmed, frankly, from the fact that none of those forgotten places had been so truly unnerving.

“It’s – it’s just all of the nasty vibes I’m getting from this place. We’re pretty much swimming in a swamp right now, with how much black mana’s in the air. Every time I go to cast a spell, it just…” She made a helpless gesture with her clenching digits. “I feel like somebody just dumped a bunch of grease down my back and threw me in a freezer.”

“Really…” The law witch sat down beside her, folding her hands across her lap as her expression softened into something more sympathetic. “That’s odd. Because I haven’t had that feeling at all since we got here. If anything, I’ve been feeling – almost refreshed. Like my mind’s sharper, for the moment.” Her line of sight slid over to the stone murals towering over them, lost in thought. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“Yeah, well. Black mana can do that to you if you aren’t covering your senses well enough.” Luz huffed in defeat, side-eyeing her friend with some concern. “You feel like you’re on top of the world, and bam – suddenly throwing around crazy dangerous spells seems like a great idea for the weekend.”

“I’m definitely not feeling high on power, thank you.” Amity’s gaze returned to the mage, one brow co*cked skeptically. “And that sounded rather specific. Is there something you want to talk about?”

“…Not really.” She muttered lowly, straightening her spine as she regarded the pale witch. “But I’m sorry for not listening to you back there. And for being an idiot. I just need to get a grip and ignore the gross feelings I get from being around here for the moment.”

“Apology tentatively accepted – assuming you stick to it, of course.” A hint of good humor entered Amity’s voice as she stood once more, hauling the human girl to her feet with an outstretched hand. “Now, let’s get that last stone. It certainly seems like you guessed right about how this puzzle was set up, earlier.”

“You conquer one creepy ruin, you’ve conquered them all.” Her weak joke still managed to pull a laugh from the other girl, lifting Luz’s spirits from the dip they’d taken upon her negative self-reflection.

As the mage suspected, their final stop was one centered around green magics, following the same pattern established with the prior chambers in the sunken dungeon they worked to plunder. Bristling, unnaturally vibrant plant life and bioluminescent fungi crowded the rectangular chamber they found in the fourth tunnel, the eerie chirping of displaced insects reminiscent of the swamp far above. The soft flutter of flickering spores set Luz’s teeth on edge as they made their approach.

“This one seems kinda obvious.” A bolt of fire swelled to life in the planeswalker’s palm, even as Amity sent forth the first of her summoned constructs to examine the chamber. “Just burn out the plants before they can grab you and… do whatever carnivorous bushes do to clumsy explorers. That’s all.”

Sur enough, the abomination that wandered into the crowded overgrowth was ensnared by vicious whips and snares, and pulled deeper into the underbrush with hardly a sound. The real difficulty, however, came when the mage attempted to save the misbegotten construct with a blast of flames – only for the damage dealt to heal within seconds, fresh new plant matter expanding to cover the hole left in the artificial canopy by her attack.

“Okay, I guess brute force isn’t gonna work here.” Her head twisted around to meet Amity’s contemplative gaze. “Whaddya think, Amity? No more rushing in like a football player, promise – but I’m coming up blank on what to do if ‘set it on fire’ isn’t an option.”

The coven witch remained speechless for almost a full minute, shrewd eyes running over the writhing underground forest in their path, before speaking in a slow tone of revelation.

“I don’t think we’re doing any of these puzzles correctly.”

“Huh? Why do you say that?” She swung an arm back towards their point of origin, eyes narrowing in thought at the proclamation. “We’ve managed just fine so far.”

“No, we haven’t. We managed to barge our way through everything in our path up until this point. No subtlety or real thought put into it.” Gloved fingers tapped erratically across her cheek as Amity cupped her chin in one concealed palm. “The answer’s been staring us in the face the entire time. You even said it yourself earlier.”

Before she could formulate a cogent response, the pale woman met her gaze with solemn golden eyes, shoulders squared confidently while one hand fell to the sword at her hip.

“I think I know what I need to do. But I need you to trust that I can do it right.”

“…I’ve got your back, Amity.” She gave the witch a solid thumbs-up, matching it with a firm grin on her face. “Just – be careful. Okay?”

Her companion nodded with determination, stepping forward into the threshold of the wild chamber as her eyes slid shut with an intake of air.

“Looks like it’s time to sink or swim.” She muttered lowly to herself under her exhale, a swirl of mana forming about her body in time with her breathing. “Be spontaneous. Be inspired. You’ve watched Luz do it – you can, too.”

Air cycled in and out of her lungs as magic filled the air, distinctly tinged with the steely sense of determination that Luz associated with the witch. It swirled and pulled, reaching inwards and outwards with greedy hunger before being cowed into compliance as Amity’s breathing hitched.

The coven deputy exhaled deeply, unnaturally, filtered air escaping from her flared nostrils and parted lips – only to billow into a cloud of clinging, noxious fumes shaded dark as the night sky. The ambient dark magics quivered in seeming delight as they filtered through Amity’s body and into the exposed chamber, slowly but surely creeping through the underbrush as the aura of corruptive forces attacked vicious plant life upon contact.

Amity stepped confidently forward, blade leaving its holster in a flare of burning enchantment to meet the first jungle creeper making its lunge. But the heavy malaise of black mana crept through its cells and veins, leaving the voracious flora sluggish and poisoned, allowing her longsword to cleave the cursed predator vine with ease.

Everything in the garden was wilting in her path, curling and blackening as life was leeched from innocent fronds and aggressive sprouts alike. Nothing still living could stop the law witch, left impotent in the wake of the cursed aura that filtered through the underbrush as envenomed gas. Luz lost sight of the other girl as she stepped further within, past the broad expanse of cracking and peeling trunks, leaving her worry to spike at the loss of visual confirmation that Amity was, in fact, perfectly fine.

Of course, one could argue whether or not anybody who used death magics so easily was anything approaching ‘fine’ overall, but she’d given her tentative friend her word that she held the mage’s trust. And Luz wasn’t eager to break an oath so quickly, regardless of the cause.

Her return with emerald jewel in hand was heralded by the crumbling of any remaining plant matter between Amity and the door, leaving the room filled with stinking decay in her wake. However, her mood was seemingly undaunted, based upon the giddy smile she gifted Luz with as they made their way back to the central temple for the last time.

“I can’t believe I was able to do that.” The witch breathed, excitement glittering in her eyes as she visibly restrained herself from an outburst. “It was just like when I connected to the Isles the first time. Like everything clicked into place and all was right with the world.”

“Sure you’re not riding a power trip right now, Amity?” The witch’s fist collided with her forearm following an exaggerated pout, leaving them both giggling in its wake. “Seriously, though. I’m glad you feel so comfortable doing stuff like that. Just… don’t let it go to your head. Magic like that’s really dangerous stuff.”

The coven deputy sobered at the solemn statement, giving the planeswalker at her side a firm nod in response.

“I understand. There’s definitely other ways to apply black mana without it being so, eh… grim.” Amity winced in retrospect, clearly envisioning the destruction she’d wrought upon the artificial forest they’d escaped. “I’ll just have to experiment somewhat before I try and apply that to law enforcement.”

“I sort of figured that your bosses wouldn’t look too kindly on melting random citizens for littering.” That statement drew another startled laugh from the witch, leaving them both in fair spirits as they returned to the incomplete tribute pedestal at the heart of the otherworldly structure.

It was with notable anticipation, though not very much shock, that upon placing the final stone into the appropriate receptacle – prompting the array of mana sources to emit a crystalline alien note – the pedestal sank slowly into the ancient flooring, and the hexagonal platform hosting it peeled open into a downwards spiral lined with stairs.

“Classic dungeon aesthetic. You gotta love it.” Her statement was fondly nostalgic, accompanied by an appreciative nod from Amity at her side as they waited for the grinding and clunking of descending stone to eventually cease.

Glowing witchlights showered the steep staircase with an unnatural orange tint, leading ever deeper into the Isles’ crust with every step. Long minutes were spent clambering down the uneven stonework, the walls of the channel mind numbingly identical in construction – until the monotony was eventually shattered by a shimmering doorway, the open passage encompassed by a rippling sheet of unearthly white fog.

They shared only a moment’s hesitation before pressing on through the breach, stepping boldly through the anomaly – only to spill out onto the cold stones with a pair of yelps, their heads spinning as the enchanted portal yanked them through space and time. The swirling magic winked out of existence as they passed through, leaving only a blank wall in its place.

“Oh, that w-wasn’t fun.” Luz lay flat on her back, groaning into the air as she fought the urge to vomit from her stomach performing summersaults. “I think we just got teleported somewhere. Walking down normal tunnels d-doesn’t make you feel this – urk – sick.”

“You’re p-probably right.” The shaking coven witch clambered to her feet, clutching her gut as she assisted the planeswalker to a stand once again, features left paler than average by the disturbance to her sense of balance. “Let’s t-take a quick break before we keep going.”

“Fine by… fine by me.”

A few precious minutes were spent resting against the cool stone façade, regaining their strength and resolve before pushing forwards through the lengthy tunnel before them. The magicked lights gave little indication of what awaited, spread in a uniform string across the arched ceiling above and around the corner of the chamber.

The only sounds Luz could hear was their own ragged breathing. She hoped that meant they were alone for the moment.

When the duo finally made it past the portal framework, trudging up a set of stairs that spilled into the pale light of day filtering through cracks and crevices above, the mage felt her breath catch at the sight.

Her nightly visions hadn’t done the inner sanctum any justice. The drooping fingers of the tremendous, gnarled swamp willow sprouting from the center of the room like a cancerous growth rivalled the Owl House in sheer scale, casting insectile shadows across the floor as it swayed in an ethereal breeze. It bulged and bristled from the ring of bricks encircling its base, great arched roots looping freely into the air like the tendrils of a great fungus. Liquid mana burbled at its foundation, gurgling with gentle motion as it swirled over exposed feelers. Far above, the ceiling was perforated with penetrations that allowed murky water and dull illumination to seep through, dripping wetly to the floor and sustaining the bloated tree at the heart of the crypt.

Worst of all were the countless stone coffins – not encircling the tree, as in her dream… but nestled within the hungry roots of the unnatural growth like barnacles. At a glance, Luz couldn’t tell just how many dotted the exposed sections of trunk, and every one of them was sealed with the promise of a leering corpse just beneath.

“Uh-oh. That’s a lot more than I was expecting.” Amity spun to give her a trepidatious look, but Luz only had eyes for the avalanche of caskets spilling from the room’s center. “You might want to start making abominations. Like, as many as you can.”

“Luz? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A note of strain filtered through the witch’s voice as her sword was slowly drawn once more, her free hand casting spell circles to bring forth golems even as she spoke. “Do you know what’s down here? I thought you’d never seen this place before.”

“I haven’t – at least not the version where it’s this large.” The mage glanced at her companion, tightly gripping her staff as they crossed the final threshold into the chamber. “The entry threw me off because it looked so different. But I saw part of this place in… in a dream. And when I found this room -”

Tiles flared with hidden enchantment as they stepped off the crumbling stairs – and the air was filled with crackling as raw black magics slithered up from the central depression, flowing into every grave with ill intent.

“There were a lot of skeletons trying to get me! Run!”

She briefly considered returning to the tunnel they’d arrived in, but discarded the plan as it would leave them trapped in a narrowed corridor with no room for maneuvering weapons. Instead, the pair sprinted around the great base of the looming willow as sarcophagi exploded outwards, sending weighty stone lids arcing towards the floor to release the trapped occupants. Luz caught a glimpse of slimy black bones hauling themselves from their resting place with a hiss before she returned her attention to fleeing to the opposite corner from their entrance.

To their relief, a grand staircase rose upwards from the swamped floor like a gift from the heavens, the curvature of the elevated platform concealing any potential escape from their mad dash. But a breakage in the ground-level death trap was helpful nonetheless, and the planeswalker skidded to a stop as Amity continued charging up the roughly hewn steps.

Their pursuers were closing in, an unholy gaggle of moaning and gurgling corpses coated in writhing black magic dragging along a motley assortment of rusted weaponry. The foul things lunged forward in anticipation as they saw their prey slow down, weakly raising their armaments with malicious intent in their empty sockets and slack jaws.

Unfortunately for her hunters, mana was a very reactive, volatile substance – and the panic mingling with frustration in Luz’s breast was more than enough to tear through the inky curtain enshrouding her magical bonds for a burst of twined mana.

Slamming her living stave into the ground, the mage dumped enough crimson and emerald mana into the sides of the stairs to level a small house, blasting through the enchantments binding the structure together like sinew as stone blasted downwards. More importantly, however, the loosened grip of ancient spellwork allowed her to manipulate stone and soil, dragging it from hard-packed walls into a crude barricade before her.

Fleshless fingertips scrabbled uselessly at the mass of concrete before them, the hasty construction just tall enough to delay their advance even were they to elevate one another over the impasse. Luz stumbled back as a wave of exhaustion swept over her, feeling Amity’s gloved hands catch her by the arm and haul the weary mage up the remaining stairs as starving undead called for blood below.

“Half a town’s worth of undead would have been worth mentioning in advance, you know.” The pale witch huffed around her aggravated statement, releasing her grasped elbow to stumble away and greedily suck down air.

“Sorry! Sorry. It just… threw me off, how the first set of rooms didn’t look anything like my nightmares!” She tossed her hands up halfheartedly, slumping against the wall as aches bit at her muscles. “The only thing that matched up until now was the cave entrance. We haven’t even found the giant, spooky door covered in carvings anywhere!”

She heard the faint rustle of her companion shifting in place to gaze down the connected passageway.

“You mean like that one, right over there?”

Luz looked up from her spot on the steps, taking in the intimidating visage of the portal from her recurring dreams, its surface pitted and dark in the dim light of the chamber.

“…Okay, yeah, exactly like that.”

For the second time, the young mage found her dreams to be a misrepresentation of the reality staring her in the face. To begin, the door did not have jagged slashes of letters spelling out ‘North’ anywhere upon its expanse, only indecipherable runes cut into its eaves. Secondly, it remained firmly locked into place, a crawling spiderweb of channels and creases flowing from the floor into the framework. The sluices slid away towards the stairs, disappearing back over the curve of the ramp along its smoothed edges and somewhere towards the floor far below.

“Maybe we can wait them out?” Her suggestion came out feebly, a fool’s hope at best as the girls returned to the peak of the stairs, staring down at the frothing mass of incensed cadavers.

“I somewhat doubt it.” Amity crossed her arms as she leaned against the tunnel’s mouth, burning eyes locking onto the mage as she did so. “Well. Since it seems we’ve got some time to spare. Is there anything else you’d like to share with me? Seeing as I already had to ask once.”

She ruminated over the pointed request for a few long seconds, guilt stirring in her gut, before sitting heavily upon the stair’s crest once more.

“You asked me upstairs why I didn’t like black magic all that much.”

“It certainly struck me as odd, yes.” The pale witch tilted forward, curiosity replacing some of the aggression in her tone. “You seemed so eager to give every other color a try.”

“I know, objectively, that not all dark spells are actually – evil.” Luz stared at her hands, emptily grasping at the air as she worked through her fears verbally. “But it’s hard when you’ve seen how much bad they can do. All the people that’ve gotten hurt because somebody went bonkers with powerful magic, and didn’t care who got in their way.”

Amity remained silent, prompting the mage to continue in a softer, sadder voice as she reminisced.

“I didn’t get the chance to tell you this before. But when I was on a world called Ravnica, I got trapped there with a bunch of other ‘walkers. Some evil dragon overlord named Nicol Bolas was trying to kill all of us to power himself up for some giant spell, and lured everybody in to sacrifice them.” She stared at the column of rock cutting off their unearthly attackers, her mind running over the uncomfortable similarities in experiences with the unhallowed dead. “It was black mana that he used to raise a cities’ worth of zombies to take over that world. It was dark magic that killed my best friend, Domri, and ripped part of his soul out for the plan of some bastardo malvado loco.”

“Even so…” The witch took a seat beside her, one hand hesitantly coming to lay atop Luz’s own clenched digits. “It can’t all be like that. I just don’t believe it. Magic is magic – the only thing evil about spells is how people use them.”

“You really believe that?” She couldn’t tell if it was hope or disbelief in her whisper, at that moment.

“Sure. And – trust me. There’s definitely stuff you just… shouldn’t use on other people. Like what I did earlier!” Amity’s free limb gestured skywards, indicating the trials they’d endured a short while before. “I killed a whole underground forest, carnivorous or not. But when it came down to what mattered more to me, it was keeping myself and others safe -” She squeezed their clasped palms for a moment. “Over protecting something that wanted to kill us. And I think that kind of intent means something.”

“I guess… I can see that. And maybe, if I had to, I could do something similar.”

“Surely you’ve met at least one person that’s used magic like that for something good before?” The coven deputy nudged her elbow gently, prompting a quiet sigh from her partner.

“There was… one guy. Another planeswalker I met on Ravnica. I thought he was pretty terrifying at first, but he ended up sticking by my side the whole battle and making sure I was okay. He said I reminded him of his little girls. It just -” She shook her head forlornly, leaning gently into the witch’s side as they conversed. “It feels wrong to do that to another living thing when - if I had to - I could give them another chance. Even if that chance is just to fight. Y’know?”

“…You’re way too honorable for your own good.” Amity didn’t directly disagree with her, but the mage could make out her firm stance in the pale girl’s soft words. “Giving something the opportunity to hurt you just because you feel bad doesn’t change anything. Dead is dead, Luz. And I can’t say I’d want that happening to you.”

“Thanks for not wanting me to die gruesomely in front of you, Amity.” She sniffled a little at the statement, a burble of laughter hiding beneath the words. “I’ll make sure not to get any blood on you when I make my big heroic sacrifice to save the world, or whatever.”

“Ugh. You’re incorrigible, Luz Noceda!” Her giggle was fully-formed and genuine as the grimly amused witch gave her shoulder a shove, breaking away to stand and inspect their dire situation.

“Now that you’ve failed to reassure me of having any self-preservation skills, are there any suggestions on – perhaps – a way out of here?”

“Well… I know you said brute force wasn’t really working too well before.” The relieved mage met her companion at the steps, gazing down at the clacking crowd of skeletons below. “But we could always try smashing the door down -”

A lurching silhouette caught her eye mid-sentence, leaving Luz to cut off her stream of words with a gasp as the first of their assailants scaled the sheer cliff she’d constructed, lunging at the duo with a screech.

“Oh, mierda!”

Her reflexive fireball was large and powerful enough to splatter the ragged skeleton against the backdrop of her summoned bulwark, knocking it into a pile of smoldering bones as the dark magics keeping it animated failed under the assault.

“I wasn’t expecting that…” Luz’s hand came to rest over her racing heart, a half-formed smile gracing her lips, before she paused at the unexpected slither of motion from the destroyed undead. Slimy vestiges of black mana that had reanimated the cadaver slid from the blasted corpse, splitting into the sluiceways bordering the staircase – before slowly oozing against the pull of gravity, flowing into the enchanted door above with a wet squish.

Luz shared an expectant look with Amity as they considered the barricade before them.

“I think I know how we’re gonna get out of here.”

Mindless undead abominations were rather poor at planning, or producing apt predictions – and so the sudden tumble of a miniature avalanche from falling rubble took the front of the horde by complete surprise, dashing the moaning carcasses against the floor and spilling oily black mana in every direction.

Undeterred by the loss of their comrades, the surviving cluster of reanimated bodies dashed for the stairs, singular determination driving them forward to meet the swelling cloud of poisonous vapor that gushed over the stonework. Corruptive magics ripped at the bonds stringing their rotted forms together, leaving zombies stumbling and tripping when they found their destroyed legs could no longer support even their own frail weight.

In the clash and confusion of the faltering assault, Luz and Amity met them at the head of a pack of abominations.

Arcing twinbolts of lightning slashed through unholy monsters, shredding them to pieces as wild energy ripped from the mage’s hand into their vulnerable torsos. A flurry of firebolts took the next lurching cadaver, incinerating its flailing limbs as the twitching liquid black fled its annihilated host. Luz’s staff swung across the front of the shattered charge, battering steaming skeletons aside even as lashing vine whips reared from her weapon to tear them apart.

One of the combatants managed to slip around her bold attacks, its encrusted ax rising to part her head from its shoulders – only for a burning snare of white mana to enwrap the monster’s limbs, dragging it to the floor in a tumbling heap. Amity pulled the struggling servant into her reach, spearing downwards with her blade to slash its clattering skull in half. Beside her, gurgling golems enshrouded in plates of ice battered aside any resistance, smashing the frenzied gathering of monstrosities with their own ferocious strength.

Every downed skeleton provided another dripping puddle of dark magic to the cleverly placed depressions scattered across the chamber floor, the animate offal making its lethargic climb towards the sealed doorway above as the girls tore through their attackers with vicious efficiency. It was not long before they had mopped up any standing stragglers, harsh breathing echoing through an uncannily silent chamber as they stood victorious.

The battle had taken minutes, at best, to conclude.

“Is that all of them, then?”

As if fate were tempted by Amity’s words, the swamp willow dominating the center of the room lurched with an unhealthily creak, tilting downwards so harshly its crown nearly met the floor – making room for the enormous skeletal beast ripping through its roots, dragging its sopping wet form from overturned grave dirt with a growl. The horror easily rivalled the Owl Beast in size, its hunched skull and looming brow lending the terrifying thing a brutish look.

“Of course not. That might’ve been too easy.”

They split off in separate directions, circling around the risen corpse is it sprung forward, grappling with the sizable abominations that met its opening attack. The roots and tendrils wrapped around the thing’s clawed limbs seemed to lend it unnatural power, allowing the undead ogre to crush Luz’s ice plating with ease and dismember the first construct in seconds.

Without any further discussion on their part, the duo both sought to down the horror’s hulking body by going after its knobby kneecaps. Jets of flame ripped away the protective covering of thick bark and soil, leaving the frail bones exposed for them to slash at with ice and blade. Out of the corner of her eye, the mage spotted Amity’s sword flaring with a shadowy coating of darkness, the greedy death magics parting solid haunches with ease. For her own efforts, she alternated between freezing and shattering the revealed joint with fire and ice crystals, hoping that it would weaken the great beast’s stride.

Their plan of action did not go unnoticed – but by the time the raging construct turned away from the stoic forms of the coven deputy’s golems, it was too late. Its attempt to spin about only added the final bout of momentum needed to send it crashing down, ripping its bulky torso away from severed limbs and leaving the thrashing skull available for a piercing strike. Dodging between wildly bucking arms, Amity and Luz moved to carve through the foul thing’s neck even as her waddling abominations secured the flailing carcass.

By combining their might, the mages were able to rend its swollen skull from its collar, finally putting the furious specter to rest with the clatter of smashed bone.

“I’m getting kinda sick of all the zombies and traps, now.” She panted the words out as sweating palms came to rest at her knees, feeling the omnipresent pull of exhaustion shoot through her body. “I really hope this dumb door is ready to open.”

Returning to the foreboding door felt somewhat anticlimactic without the threat of gnashing teeth and pitted weapons at their backs, but Luz wasn’t one to complain. Somebody could only defy death so many times in one day before the whole thing started to grow stale.

They were long past that point.

Tarry fluids from the culled assembly of reanimated corpses flowed over the tunnel frame in sickly rivulets, burning away to fuel aged spells carved into stone as they made contact with the portal’s edges. Where the entryway had once been cold and stoic, now its surface writhed with ancient seals of notable strength, a scrawl of text in verdant necromantic fire projected from the door for all to see.

From burning seas of demon blood

And distant worlds where ancients vye

To seek power free of sanguine cost

Is one of our life’s greatest lies

At the base of the shuttered tunnel jutted forth another pedestal, this one with the curved hilt of a ceremonial blade at its core, flanked by a pair of hand-shaped depressions.

“Somebody read way too many fantasy novels before designing this place.” Amity groused, glaring at the burning body of runes floating before them with petulant dislike.

“Here’s hoping they wanted to keep things simple after making any visitors fight off an entire graveyard.” Luz stepped forward, boldly placing her palms upon the plinth – only to recoil at the tingling shock of warning she received in return, the structure flashing with an ominous hum of promise as green flames crawled under the crypt’s threshold, inching their way towards the nondescript pedestal.

“Don’t do that again.” The law witch yanked her companion away from the altar, eyeing the halted approach of necrotic fire with an expression of worry. “Looks like we’ve only got a few chances to figure this out. We shouldn’t waste them bashing our heads against the wall.”

“…You’re right.” The mage gusted out a sigh as she directed a forlorn look towards the floating riddle. “I’m just bad at this kind of thing. Smashing down the door is way easier.”

A second examination of the offered puzzle gave them both some ideas which were quickly bandied about.

“Maybe its metaphorical for the rooms we travelled through to get here?”

“I bet it has something to do with all the constellations we saw in the first section.”

“Why does it say life itself is lying? Sounds kinda nihilistic to me.”

“Perhaps there’s another piece of it somewhere in the crypt…”

“Oh. I know! The real answer is that life’s greatest treasure is the friends we made along the way!”

“I’m starting to think maybe the solution really is just knocking the damn thing down.”

Staring at the soundless crackle of ensorcelled writing, Luz let loose a miserable groan, rubbing the spots from her vision as she slumped against the comforting chill of damp stonework.

“We’re getting nowhere with this. Definitely overthinking it, too. There’s no way they expected somebody with a doctorate in literature or something to come down here just to knock on their door.”

“Let’s examine it piece by piece, then.” Her companion’s tone was one of carefully restrained irritation, a thought reinforced by the controlled breathing Amity performed through her flared nostrils. “The first line. What does it seem most likely to be referencing?”

The answer came to Luz much more quickly than she’d anticipated, given their initial struggle.

“The Boiling Isles.” She met the witch’s quirked brow with a determined set to her features. “We’re in the middle of a sea hot enough to easily cook a person, in the ‘Demon Realm.’ So that’s my bet.”

“…Alright, then. I can understand why you’d say that.” The response was glacial and considering, matched by the cunning glint in Amity’s eye as she turned towards the puzzle once more. “What about the second line, then? Why does it mention ‘ancients,’ like it expects us to have context for that?”

“Actually – I think I get it. The second bit doesn’t matter, it’s the first section. ‘And distant worlds.’” She tapped a finger against the edge of her jaw, giving a hum of thought as she cast her recollection back to the challenges already overcome. “Mana-based magic is new to most witches, as far as I can tell around here. But the puzzles and traps before didn’t just recognize the five colors of mana, they also used some enchanted source stones to power themselves.” A single brow slowly climbed as she dug further into the unravelling theory. “It would also go a long way to explaining why this place is drenched in dark magic, too.”

“Which would mean… if witches didn’t already know how to use that form of magic…” Amity was quick to catch on to the implication.

“Then somebody from another world brought it here. Another planeswalker!”

“Not only that.” The witch stepped forward, circling the podium with a hungry gaze as their shared train of though picked up steam. “This place is old. That person is – or, was – fairly aged as well. Which means they probably knew a fair bit about the history of other worlds, hence the part about ‘ancients.’” She halted before the doorway, head tilting in contemplation. “Old people, old magics – Luz. What’s traditionally associated with black mana?”

“Um… a lot of things. Death, necromancy, any kind of undead – including vampires – and… blood magic.” She gazed at the exposed grip peering from the carved altar with newfound understanding.

The pale witch met her astonished glance with a fierce grin.

“I think we’ve figured out the way in.”

“Hold on a sec – we’re two pretty average mages by most standards.” She tapped her outstretched fingers together for a pause, taking in the provided riddle for a third round. “Did Belos say what stopped him from doing this himself? I thought he was a super powerful witch, or something?”

“The Emperor is plenty powerful, yes.” Amity’s response seemed a bit more defensive than was necessary, but the bite to her statement faded into worried concern. “It’s a good point, though. I would assume he’d have at least reached this chamber before. Was it the riddle, then…? That strikes me as pretty unlikely.”

“Well, there is one way to find out.” The human mage gestured dramatically to the door before them. “Cracking this bad boy wide open and getting you your special textbooks might help us figure out what the deal is.”

They met in the middle of the hall, Amity stripping a grimy glove from her palm as they did so – but Luz couldn’t help hesitating as she reached for the wicked ceremonial knife, lingering fears still gathered in the corners of her mind. Her partner caught sight of the flinch, giving the mage a look that bordered on tender as she stepped forward.

“Luz. You know how you said that, if you really had to, you could use magic like I did? Do something dark and dangerous for a good purpose?”

“Yeah. I did, didn’t I.” She responded in a low, defeated whisper to the reminder.

“Well. I may not have experienced the same things you have. And I know that – dealing with my attitude and my baggage can be hard, sometimes. But…” Slim fingers plucked the stone razor from its resting place, flipping the blade around to offer the weapon hilt-first. Amity’s golden eyes were burning and vulnerable all at once as she met Luz’s own. “Would you be able to do something like that for a friend?”

In spite of the circ*mstances, the planeswalker felt a smile split her grim countenance, and she accepted the tool graciously.

“Without a doubt.”

A quick slice across her palm left the girl wincing at the stinging separation, a fact made no easier even as she watched the pale witch at her side perform the same horrid task, leaving her hissing at the blade’s kiss. As she did so, the human mage opened her mind to the slick touch of the black mana encompassing them, feeling its willful bucking against her conscience – until she clamped down with a spike of ironclad determination. The dark magic was more than happy to use her soul as a conduit, gushing out in accordance to her will as she felt a bond finally snap into place with the swamps of the northern Isles, thin and untested as it was. It was little more than the barest brush of conscious will against the deep ocean of magic permeating the grave – a body completing a circuit, laid by another, more skilled mage to craft a key. Beside her, Luz could feel Amity doing much the same, aetheric currents tickling her perception as the witch pressed direction and energy into unlocking the doorway before them.

The knife slotted back into its stony sheath with ease, a trickle of blood running to the pedestal’s base as they pressed their wounded hands to the depressions in tandem.

Creaking machinery and thrumming spellwork ripped through the silence of the chamber as their offerings were accepted by the primordial magics infusing the subterranean crypt, the glacial inwards swing of the enormous door accompanied by the sacrificial pulpit receding into the floor without a trace.

After everything they’d face to reach their final destination, Luz wasn’t quite certain how she felt when the ultimate guardian of the sunken labyrinth was a mummified skeleton in extravagant robes.

“Considering what we saw at the front door, this sort of makes sense…?” One hand threaded fingers over her scalp, ripping into her sagging braid, as the other waved limply towards the corpse in question. “But I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t a little disappointing. It’s not even a moving body, like the ones we had to fight.”

“Just be grateful we don’t have another fight on our hands. My bile’s getting a bit low from constantly creating abominations.” Rubbing her breastbone with a wince, Amity strode across the room to inspect the adjacent paths leading from their find, paying little mind to the motionless cadaver on its throne of sculpted Titan bone.

“Fair enough.” The mage gazed around the unbroken span of calcified remains to inspect the remainder of the chamber. There seemed to be little of functional or artistic value from her viewpoint – only an unadorned room to house a massive seat for the long-dead creator of such a marvelous place. A number of plain wooden doorways led into parts unknown, their pleasingly simplistic construction offsetting the grandeur of a king’s seat crafted of the Titan’s rib, jutting from floor to ceiling in an angled bow.

“It seems like none of the texts the Emperor referenced are stored in here - one of these other rooms has to be the library. Maybe a storage cellar, or something.” The pale witch gave a fruitless tug on one of the dulled iron handles, an unseen latch keeping the adjacent space firmly secured. “Could you give me a hand with this?”

“Sure, sure… say, Amity. Did Belos tell you who used to live here?” She glanced away from the slack jaw of the mummy for a moment, tracing her line of sight over the various potential exits as she did so. “Now I really wanna know who went to all this trouble just to set up a big death trap for… a whole lot of nothing.”

Luz froze with a surge of dread as cold, boney fingers wrapped around her outstretched wrist, accompanied by a ghoulish whisper past one ear.

“You could always try asking me yourself, my dear.”

The planeswalker tried to lurch away with a terrified yelp, a javelin of cinder spilling from her available palm – only for another deceptively strong set of fleshless digits to direct the attack harmlessly into the wall, pressing her back half a step for her ambusher to tower over the sweating girl.

Burning, pupilless eye sockets gazed blankly at the mage in the creature’s reach, the deep hood of embroidered silks falling low over the skinned countenance of an animated humanoid skeleton. A riot of reds and purples climbed its pristine covering, swirls of hues threaded through with beads and macabre baubles that clicked gently against one another with the motion. It kept her struggling arms carefully aimed away from its skull, leaning forward into Luz’s personal space as it inspected her in eerie silence.

“Goodness, girl. You’re rather jumpy for someone so adept at overcoming adversity.” Its tone was one of unearthly echo, the deep thrum of a man’s voice layered beneath a dry rasp that reverberated unnaturally from shining corpse teeth.

“Luz!” Amity skidded into view, a swirl of agitated vapors cresting in her wake as tendrils of searing white mana snaked about her drawn longsword. “Let her go. Now.”

“Hmm?” It – he – seemed to fully notice the mage’s wrists, still clasped in a steely grip, and promptly released her before taking a partial step backwards. “My apologies. It has been a very long time since I’ve had proper guests. I will be the first to admit that my social etiquette is rather… lacking.”

“Uh… that’s okay.” Idly rubbing at her sore limbs, Luz put a more comfortable distance between herself and the talkative undead construct, eyeing the man with wary caution. “Are you the guy that designed this place?”

“Yes, yes, I can take credit for that. Though I certainly required a good deal of assistance from local labor, of course.” The eccentric lich pitched forward into a low bow, swinging his narrow arms out in a grand display of humility. “Welcome to my corner of the world, intrepid little explorers. It is ever so wonderful to have such accomplished mages in my presence once more.”

“I knew it!” The spellcaster’s excited exclamation prompted their strange ‘host’ to straighten from his supplication, giving her a curious glance. “’Mages,’ not witches. And you were using mana sources for the different traps in the first part of the building. There’s no way any witch who’s just stuck with spell circles would even know what those are!” She bounced on her heels in growing glee, directing the silk-draped skeleton an expectant look.

“Witches, limited only to their natural abilities?” Inexplicably, the inquisitive undead seemed displeased by the notion. “Well. What a dreary thought. At any rate – I assume that you two have travelled rather far from home to reach my humble abode, likely for one reason or another.” His head angled to the side, a sardonic lilt entering the animated corpse’s words. “I hope it wasn’t to slay me. I’d rather hate to harm such promising young adventurers.”

She wasn’t left with much of an opportunity to unpack the prior statement, as the coven deputy beside her took charge of their conversation with a no-nonsense bite in her low tones.

“I was sent on a quest given by Emperor Belos himself to retrieve a number of texts from this tomb. He personally instructed me to look for any volumes regarding curses and ancient forms of witch magic, specifically.” Amity’s grip on her sword didn’t loosen as she gazed challengingly towards the dungeon’s master. “I hope that doesn’t present a problem for you, Mister…?”

“Ah, having someone ask for my name! What a novel experience.” Luz winced internally at the words, a niggling bit of intuition whispering that perhaps the undead man was not fully mentally present after so much time alone. “Well – my birth name is of no importance to most anyone in this day and age. It has been an awfully long period since I’ve freely walked the surface of the Isles. But for the sake of brevity…” The risen cadaver stood to full, imposing height, settling boney palms at his slim waist with a clack. “You may refer to me as Phyl.”

“Wait, seriously? Just ‘Phil?’ That’s kind of a lame name for some big shot necromancer – oh. Oh, Dios Bueno that’s a dumb pun.” At Amity’s look, the mage gave a gusty exhale of long suffering as she gestured weakly to the proud skeleton before them. “He’s a lich. With a phylactery to make sure he doesn’t die for real. A phylactery.”

The walking corpse gave a lengthy, heaving laugh at the twin groans of disgust that met his jest.

“Oh, it is good to speak to living people once more. My servants have no sense of humor! Of wit. Or sentience, for that matter.” Chilled bone clapped both girls on the shoulders, making them jump in tandem as their strange host leaned forward to address them warmly. “Now on that note - young lady with the blade. Why don’t I direct you to my personal collection of texts? I am certain that you’ll be able to find what you’ve come here for.”

“Really? That’s it?” The pale witch’s brow was furrowed in paranoid skepticism. “No more puzzles or riddles or angry zombies. Just the library.”

“Indeed. You and your companion here -” Phyl the possibly-unstable-lich squeezed the mage’s arm as he spoke. “Have proven yourselves more than worthy of doing so. Unless you’d prefer a duel, for your prize…?” His tone trailed off with a note of gleeful anticipation.

“Ah, no. I am perfectly fine without any more fighting today, thank you.” Amity’s gaze flashed to Luz for a second, concern flicking over her features. “Will you both be coming with me to find everything?”

“Don’t you worry, my dear. One of the help should be more than enough to assist you in your search. Your young friend and I shall await your return shortly.” At that statement, the looming wraith snapped his boney fingertips, prompting one of the doors to shudder open with a squeal as a naked skeleton stepped through the tunnel.

“…If you’re sure.” She felt touched by the genuine consideration in the witch’s gaze as she stepped in the direction of the offered path. “Luz, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’ll be fine, Amity.” A carefree wave of her hand sent the other girl hesitantly on her way. “Go finish your big quest. We’ll see you in a few.”

The library door swung on silent hinges with a foreboding click as the witch passed its threshold, drenching the central throne room in silence for the second time.

Phyl’s hand dropped from her collar, allowing Luz to twist around as the undead mage returned to his garish seating with a slight thump of muffled bone-on-bone, his empty eyes tracking the retreating coven deputy for a few long seconds.

“My, my, my. What a catch you’ve found.” Heat rushed to her cheeks at his words, leaving her spluttering in denial at the unexpected implication. “I suppose that like truly attracts like, as the younger folk are apt to say.”

…Oh. Oh, wow. Luz really had… no idea how to respond to that statement. So she simply opted not to before she lost her temper.

Any discomfort on her part went ignored as the ancient necromancer fully returned attention to his remaining audience.

“Now that we have some privacy from prying ears, my girl, I have a few questions for you.” The manic eccentricity of the lich’s personality had thawed with the disappearance of her friend, leaving a voracious glint of curiosity burning in the dark pits of his skull. “First and foremost, of course, being what name you yourself go by. It’s only polite to know a guest’s titles, after all.”

Clearing her airway with a raspy gulp at the sudden jump of nerves in her gut, she stepped forward with an offered hand, fighting the nervousness creeping up her spine.

“My – my name is Luz Noceda, sir. I’m a mage with some experience in elemental magic.”

“Well met, Miss Noceda. And please – there is no need to understate your abilities here. I haven’t been any kind of instructor for quite some time.” His skeletal leer was almost lecherous as the lich gave her a firm handshake. “I can feel the mana following you like the contrail of a shooting star. It is a rather heady sensation for one such as I.”

His clasped palm fell away from Luz’s own, leaving her fingers seeped of heat as clawed digits moved to tap against an exposed cheekbone in deep consideration.

“However, what I am truly craving to know…” Dark amusem*nt welled upwards in the scratching, synthetic voice of the undead man. “Is how another planeswalker came to find themselves a guest of the Boiling Isles. We humans aren’t so common around here, as you likely know.”

Any coherent train of thought Luz held in that moment came crashing down around her ears as she stared, mouth agape, at the sly old undead before her.

“You – you’re – I – really?”

It felt like she should be elated to have found another person like her so far from home, but the only sensation flooding her soul was an ominous foreboding.

“Indeed.” Phyl seemed inordinately pleased with himself for shocking the mage so badly. “As you noted so succinctly earlier, the usage of mana is – somewhat uncommon in these parts.” A single calcified palm up-righted itself, leaving space for a flickering ball of sooty shadows to expand in his grasp. “That was not always the case. Many years ago, my teachings could be found in every corner of this misbegotten world, wielded in most households of the Isles.”

The demonstration of dark magic faded out of existence in accompaniment to a sigh of timeless exhaustion.

“However, for all my successes in teaching the native peoples how to move beyond their own limited grasp on magical principles, there were bound to be failures. My largest was undoubtedly failing to quash the ambitions of a certain apprentice of mine.” The sudden change into bitterness threw her already disoriented perception for another loop as the aging necromancer tossed himself back into his chair, bony fists clenching while he brooded. “Belos was always too arrogant for my liking. Constantly seeking to surpass my teachings in everything he did. Normally, that should be lauded in any pupil. But not when it leads to megalomaniacal conquests and burning dissenters at the stake. Even I am above such vileness, and I regularly violate the laws of nature with my spells.”

“Let me get this straight.” Luz’s voice buckled under the strain, barely audible to herself as she tried to track the revelations she’d been handed so rapidly by the other planeswalker. “You’re human. From another world. Who taught witches about mana, which they… forgot. And you had the Emperor as your student, which backfired. Horribly.”

“A reasonable summary of my accomplishments, yes.” Phyl tilted forward in the skeletal throne, clutching his fleshless chin in one limb. “I hold only theories as to what truly caused Belos to act as he did. But I am certain that his hatred for myself – and the intensity with which he hunted my other disciples, and teachings, to extinction – was caused by his foolish attempt to take the remainder of my artifacts and texts by force.”

Lurching from the cracked cushion of his foul furniture, the willowy undead stepped free of the seat to slowly circle his guest as he spoke in open contemplation.

“Once I understood the extent of my wayward student’s crusade to unite the Boiling Isles, I made to bolster my defenses from the outside world. The trials I had once provided to enterprising youths seeking my tutelage became death traps, in their own right. Newer, more vicious guardians were made to stand guard over my inner sanctum. And the entrance itself – well.” The bloodthirsty chuckle he belted out at the sentiment made Luz’s skin crawl with the sound. “Let it simply be said that I installed certain… requirements, for access. Only a witch, native to the so-called ‘Demon Realm’ – and a planeswalker with an ignited spark – would ever be able to find their passage unbarred.” Flaming corneas locked onto her petrified features. “Any other being who wished to enter by force would find themselves suffering rather – dire consequences.”

“…Now Belos sends innocent people to do his dirty work.” Whether the righteous indignation surging in her breast was for the Emperor or the mage before her, she couldn’t tell. “So, what, you taught him some dark magic and he just decided to go bonkers? Conquer the whole world like a fairytale villain?”

“Not exactly, no.” The deathly thin creature stopped before Luz, a cunning lean to his eager stance. “I always suspected him of serving another’s agenda. The boy I taught held no end to his creativity and callous disregard for others – but for all his schemes, Belos struggled for many years with the greater picture.” The bold proclamation was given with well-worn confidence. “I believe him to be a pawn, unwitting or not.”

“To who?”

“To what.” Phyl’s raspy tone dropped into a low, conspiratorial murmur. “To the Titan.”

Viscous black mana, thick and burbling as blood, swarmed over his extended limb to form a familiar globule of magic.

“Upon my arrival on this plane, and the dissemination of my knowledge, I began receiving reports from the locals about strange nightly interruptions. Visions and dreams, all centered about one subject of note – the chain of islands they inhabited. Some even spoke of deeper meanings, and dark mutterings. Thus, I sought to experience them myself.”

With a disgusting gurgle, Phyl’s accumulated mana shaped itself into a crude facsimile of the Titan’s skull.

“Lo and behold, upon tapping into the swamps of the northern Isles, I found myself walking a trail of vertebra that very night. I could discern very little from the fields of rot and ruin surrounding me, but I understood their fears to be validated. And yet, for all its oddity, the visions seemed harmless. A bizarre, one-off traversal of some pale reflection of the Demon Realm. Nothing more, or so I believed.” She couldn’t tear her eyes from his grave glare. “Until my apprentice.”

“What – what did he do?” The query cracked through musty air like a gunshot.

“He dreamed. And he dared.” Notched bones crushed the oozing caricature in their grip. “Few witches had the tenacity to pursue more than one, or perhaps two, schools of mana. But Belos sought and succeeded in mastering three.” Shadows danced in the corners of the throne room, roused by the mention of ancient grudges. “With every color of magic he blazed through, my student claimed his visions of the Titan grew ever clearer. More frequent. Providing solutions to his ills, guidance in his studies.”

The primordial lich inspected Luz as if she were an insect caught beneath a microscope.

“And so I wonder, Luz Noceda – with that colorful twist of mana dogging your heels as you’ve travelled my domain. What have you dreamt of since you landed upon this strange world? What knowledge has the god of these lands imparted upon you?”

Her mouth felt as if it was stuffed with cotton. The conversation had taken a dangerous turn she’d had no warning of, but in a spurt of realization, the young mage knew what she had to tell Phyl.

“It led me here.” Words poured forth, as if a confession to the aging church her mother had taken them to, in years past. “The first few times didn’t tell me anything. But the last one… it brought me to you. To the swamps.”

Tension splintered between the pair with her sentence, fizzling out as if it had never been. Phyl gave a considering hum, no sign of the malice he’d projected lingering amongst his decrepit silhouette.

“Interesting. Very, very interesting. Perhaps that old bag of bones has finally decided to rightfully acknowledge my presence.” The young mage opted not to point out the irony in calling anyone else such names. “That, or it wishes to perfect you as its herald where my own disciple failed. Regardless – it is a fact worth consideration. I will have to go over my notes to ensure I haven’t missed anything in my observations of the outside world.”

“Is that what you do these days? Watch the neighbor kids and make sure they stay off your lawn?” Luz was desperate to prevent the conversation from veering into such off-putting territory any further. Hopefully, the unhallowed mage would appreciate a little humor.

“One must stay abreast of what occurs in their dominion if they wish to stay on top of things, dear girl. And doing so allows me to render aid where necessary for others.” The risen planeswalker strode away on spindly legs, gesturing for her to follow in his wake as they crossed the room. “Quote-unquote ‘wild’ witches were not the only community Belos sought to eliminate in the wake of my… final parting lesson on personal boundaries. Undead creatures suffer beneath his yoke, as well, and I have ensured over the course of years to seed paths of safety for those who’ve paid for my own actions. Whether it is a personal slight or an attempt to prevent my resurfacing, however, I can only guess.”

One of the numerous doors lining the circular chamber silently twisted inwards, allowing the duo to pass without conflict into what appeared to be a more densely packed set of personal chambers. Oddly enough, three beds of varying sizes lined the far wall, but Luz erred on the side of caution and avoided any potentially sensitive topics or observations following the start to their discourse.

She did, however, have one question of import for the lich.

“If Belos hates you so much, why are you letting him get your books? You already stopped him from taking them before. But Amity’s going to bring them right back to his castle.”

“Fret not, she’ll simply be receiving copies. All of my works have been painstakingly duplicated over several decades.” Her host rummaged through a packed shelf, sliding aside priceless artifacts and unknowable arcane devices with the carefree air of the exceedingly wealthy. “I admit to holding some curiosity as to what my once-student will accomplish on his own – and perhaps, a fraction of guilt for my hand in his descent into tyranny. Besides, I can’t rightfully send my only kin back to him without results, can I? He’d take it out of both your hides! Now, where is… aha!”

A handful of plain silver jewelry, smooth and cool to the touch, was dropped into her upturned palms with a flourish.

“Let it not be said that I allow achievement to go unrewarded. My apprentice may have nicked the better part of my artifice before I could transfer it, but any Dominarian mage worth their salt will have redundancies built in to their collection.” A single, insectile finger bone lightly tapped the grey armband in her grasp. “By wearing this bracelet, and funneling mana into it, you will be teleported back to this crypt in the event that you ever decide to return. And this -” Phyl indicated the simplistic ring, dangling from a loop of metallic chain. “Is an old companion of mine. It served me well as an enterprising young planeswalker. I am sure you will find it to your liking as you plunder the multiverse.”

“Um – thanks, Phyl. I appreciate your generosity.”

“It was the least I could do for the most interesting person to stumble through my old tomb in nearly fifty years.” He waved her fumbling gratitude away with a flip of his rotted hand. “But, if I could ask a favor? Do come back sometime soon. Even better if you do so with answers regarding the Titan. It does become ever so lonely, around here.”

“I’ll… see what I can do.” Luz would certainly think about returning, at least. Definitely not without back-up though.

By the time their discussion concluded, Amity had returned to the central chamber with treasures in hand, a thick stack of grimy texts bulging from her overstrained backpack while she fought with its tightened straps. The human mage’s arrival attracted her eye, prompting a glance in their direction – which was followed by the furrowing of her brow as she caught sight of Luz’s mixed expression. The mage cut across her burgeoning question, however, with a hurried about-face to speak with the unnerving form of Phyl one last time.

“Welp, it’s been fun and all, but we really gotta get going. Don’t want to be out all night, you know?” She pumped one arm with false cheer to punctuate her exclamation, giving the lich her best possible smile under the circ*mstances. “So how do we get out of here? Just walk back up?”

Good Lord, did she hope that wasn’t the answer.

“Of course not!” Thank everything holy for small mercies. “Do you think me that uncivilized? I’ll simply use my teleportation array to translocate you both to an exterior pad, on the surface.” Phyl’s bony visage jolted as a thought crossed his frayed mind. “Hopefully it isn’t too overgrown by the swamp. That may complicate things.”

The duo departed without further ado, waving halfheartedly to the cheerful undead as the sizzling ring of interlocking runes in a nearby room whisked them out of the crumbling temple and into the open evening air of the fetid swamp. Luz sagged with bone-deep weariness as her partner fired off a magical signal flare into the sky, so that Lilith’s staff could retrieve them both for a quick return to Bonesborough.

“Is everything alright, Luz?” Familiar golden eyes scanned her lined features for any hint as to what had disturbed her so. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. He didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

Standing in brackish ankle-high water, beside the person she’d just conquered a sprawling dungeon full of traps and secrets with, the mage felt a burning in her sternum as she made to convey all of the fantastical, lurid details she’d been gifted – only for her throat to close shut as the curve of Amity’s coven mask cast a glint in the fading sunlight.

The witch had called her a friend, in the deep. They’d fought together and overcome the terrifying unknown. And yet – and yet…

“Nothing much.” The lie slipped between her teeth like sand. “I’ll tell you about it another time. Just – some stuff to think about. For the future.”

“Alright, then. If you’re certain.” Any further interrogation by the worried deputy was cut short by the arrival of her mentor’s winged staff, which they boarded silently in short order.

Their flight back to the outskirts of town was quiet, the stillness unbroken in the face of their shared exhaustion. It wasn’t until they skirted to a stop before the comforting outline of the Owl House that Amity spoke again, grabbing Luz’s arm gently as she did so.

“Hey – just a sec.” The law witch spun her partner around, looking up into the mage’s soft brown eyes as she did so. “I wanted to thank you for today. There’s no way I could have done it without you. And it – it really means a lot that you were there. For me.”

She hesitated momentarily, making an aborted motion forward – before surging into Luz’s space with a step, enwrapping the startled girl in a warm embrace.

“It’s nice, having friends again.”

In the soft arms of her newest companion, the young planeswalker relaxed, returning the hug with subdued enthusiasm as she let her bubbling, conflicted feelings slide away for a little while. By her measure, they broke apart all too soon, leaving Luz feeling bereft of the encouraging warmth as they did so.

“I’m going to warn you, when the Emperor finds out we did this together, he’s… probably going to bring you in. For a debrief!” Amity waved her hands frantically at the panic-stricken expression that crossed her friend’s face with the assertion. “I'll make sure to keep your identity on the down low with my report, in case he's been paying attention to what we've been relaying on the Owl Lady thus far. The fact you're a human hasn't made it past his desk, as far as I know, which means you could be just about anyone as far as he's concerned. So – if that does happen, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Her voice trailed off into something small and hopeful, prompting Luz to give her a slightly strained grin in return.

An impromptu visit to the reigning Emperor's seat of power wasn't exactly high on her bucket list, but they were a bit too far into the jungle to turn heel, now. She hadn’t forgotten Lilith’s prior comment, regarding interested eyes being wholly capable of gathering information on their own. And standing before the ruler of an entire country, not just his low-level enforcers, was a fair bit more intimidating than striking deals with opportunistic peacekeepers. But if she wasn't there to corroborate the witch's story... if her resistance to the Emperor’s summons brought further scrutiny on both her, and her newest friend…

She wasn’t wholly certain she wanted to know what might happen if Belos decided something required his personal intervention, such as one of his coven members acting oddly about who, exactly, helped them complete a task delivered unto them by the Emperor himself.

“Sounds good to me. ‘Night, Amity.”

“Goodnight, Luz.” The pale witch left her on the lawn with a wave, taking into the darkening night sky on the way to Belos’ fortress.

After fighting past an ecstatic Hooty – reassuring the house demon with some amusem*nt that she was, in fact, still alive – Luz was only partially surprised to find a warparty in the making awaiting her safe return.

Eda was in the midst of sharpening an oversized battle ax, speaking animatedly with a focused Gus and Willow at the battered coffee table even as King flitted about the room, stacking an ever-growing mound of plush animals together as he screamed something regarding ‘rousing the troops.’ The group ceased their overprotective quibbling, however, as they noticed their target of concern had finally arrived at the homestead in one piece.

“There you are, kid! Everybody was starting to get worried.” The Owl Lady tossed her weapon carelessly to the side, letting the enormous steel blade slam into the floor as she hurried over to inspect the mage for any permanent damage. “Didn’t think Baby Blight was going to have you running around from dawn to dusk. Still got all your bits?”

Luz gave the witch half a grin and a short exhale, before sweeping the pale woman into a hug past her fussing. They were quickly joined by the rest of the occupants, each of them piling in to form a tightly packed embrace.

“Everything’s fine, Eda. I’m just tired is all.” They broke apart at her prompting, allowing the mage to walk into the kitchen with a call over her shoulder. “Let me get something in my belly for dinner, and I’ll tell you guys all about it.”

There was no path to walk, tonight. No exposed bones of the past for her to trip over.

Luz had already arrived.

She gazed out past the rim of a monolithic eye socket, its arch spinning up and away from her miniscule figure as the mage gazed upon the dreamscape of the Boiling Isles.

Her vision finally existed in equilibrium. Nature no longer fought itself to death as its constituent pieces tore into one another. Softly cresting fields of wheat and tall grasses stretched into the distance; heaving clouds circled monstrous peaks of misty mountains; woodlands and wetlands twined between one another like two sides of the same coin; and encompassing it all was the gentle, eternal lapping of the frothing sea far below. The land billowed out like a rolling cloud beneath the expanse of the Titan’s skull, unfolding into a truer vision of the plane than before.

At her elbow, a towering inferno winked into existence without warning. It jetted high into the air, a pillar of life-affirming flames casting her in its warm shadow.

From within, an ageless voice rang deep and true.

“You’re very close, now. You’ve seen what the passage of time has wrought from these old bones. Even felt it in your soul.”

A presence loomed over her, oh so careful not to crush her fragile human form beneath its invisible weight.

“No one has ever come this far before. Not even other visitors. You are the first to truly hear my voice since time began for this world.”

“What do you want from me?” It felt as if Luz was speaking into a void, vast and unfeeling – but the abyss heard her words.

And it responded.

“I can give what you most desire.”

She blinked, and suddenly, her feet were no longer on solid ground – instead, her perception was floating away, fluttering into the sky on an ethereal gust of wind, point of view tilted towards the hard ground far below.

“You’ve found some of it yourself, in time. But your journey is incomplete.”

She could almost see the Titan’s entire collarbone, now. Buried beneath tons of dirt and rock and seething magic.

“Find me. Your assistance is more important than you could ever know.”

Belos’ grim castle loomed out of the colossal carcass’ sternum, the rhythmic beating of a frantic heart echoing from its core.

“There is much to discuss. And in return…”

Luz’s vision flickered over to the complete silhouette of the prehistoric skullcase, where two blistering columns of fire forming the Titan’s pupils gazed at her with unerring accuracy.

“I shall provide you with the path home.”

The mage bolted up from her bedroll, chest aching with the terrified pumps of her own heart, matching a tempo fading from her conscious mind. Over her bedding, the port window she’d been certain was locked shut weakly slammed into the wall in the wake of a gusting breeze. Luz squeezed her eyes tight, willing herself to calm down and return to more peaceful slumber.

Hoping for a distraction, she plucked her hard-won treasures from the day’s adventures off the rough floorboards, running her thumb over the smooth expanse of the silvered links and basic armlet to soothe her frantic mind.

She nodded off while staring into the twinkling heart of the dangling gunmetal ring in her palm, its core pulsing with the heat and light of an alien star as Luz drifted off into sleep for a second time.

Chapter 19

Chapter Text

“Hellfire, girl. It’s barely been a day, and you’re already pining for your gal pal to swing by again?”

Sometimes, it seemed the best way to deal with the Owl Lady’s ribbing was to just sigh, which is exactly what Luz did. She spun in her seat by the segmented kitchen window, directing a flat gaze towards the slyly smirking witch.

“You’re never gonna give that up, are you?”

“Nope!” Came the gleeful reply. “It’s way too fun to bust your chops about hanging out with one of the Emperor’s handpicked goons. Doesn’t matter if it’s Lily’s favorite kiddy or not.”

Her mind briefly turned to the invisible hook prickling beneath her collar, a quiet tug pointed towards the beat of an alien heart miles away. She’d felt its touch rolling out of bed that morning as a silent siren’s call to parts unseen. It felt like destiny writhing below Luz’s skin.

“I just have a feeling she’ll be back pretty quick is all.” One hand subconsciously pressed against the metaphysical discomfort twinging within her breast. “Amity made a comment about Belos wanting to speak to both of us if he figures out that she had help.”

“Uh, she said what now?” Joviality fled Eda’s voice at the statement, replaced by unamused disbelief. “Luz, there’s no way a personal chat with the Emperor is a good thing for someone like us. At all.” The Owl Lady’s tone sharpened into something approaching a reprimand. “And it would’ve been nice to hear this last night, when you told us about your little trip with Baby Blight. At least then I could have some apple blood while the other munchkins help me figure out a prison break - or better yet, a way to fake your death or something. A bit too late for that, now…”

“Well, here’s hoping I don’t get hauled off to jail, huh?” Her host did not appear mollified by her wit. “I just didn’t want you and everybody else worrying about something none of us had any control over. If I don't show my face and sing a tune for him, Amity's gonna be up the creek without a paddle - and I'd bet we wouldn't be far behind. ‘Sides, if you did need to plan a raid on the clink today, then you wouldn’t have been up all night worrying.”

Eda’s keen gaze didn’t waver from her anxious fidgeting, even as she leaned one hip against the kitchen counter.

“You know you can rely on us, right kiddo?” She didn’t flinch at the comment, but it was a near thing. “I don’t expect you to spill every little detail to me or your pals, but it’s not like I’m planning to toss you on your keister the second you do something I don’t agree with. Thought we were clear on that already.”

“We are! It’s just -” An exhausted groan left her lips as she mulled over the details she’d skimmed during the conversation the night before, of the grim revelations she’d been handed by another of her people in confidence. “Some stuff isn’t worth freaking everyone out over it. Like yesterday… there was a lot I was told about the Emperor, about the Boiling Isles, that I just don’t know what to do with. Pretty messed up stuff.”

The older witch gave a contemplative hum, shifting closer to lay a clawed hand on the planeswalker’s slumped shoulder.

“Anything you want to talk about? I’m all ears if you need it.”

She debated, for a moment, how the pale woman might take the information regarding Belos’ origins – before realizing that her story couldn’t rightfully give one half without the other. Luz’s thumb brushed over the other hand’s knuckles, a contemplative grimace pointed towards the floor.

“We met Belos’ teacher, yesterday.”

“Okay, that is not at all what I woulda guessed you needed to say.” That particular tidbit seemed to throw the Owl Lady for a loop, though she regained her verbal footing after a moment of silence. “But now I’m gonna bet he told you something you didn’t want to hear.”

“You could say that, yeah. He…” Fingers flexed and popped, skittering over her arms as Luz argued with herself before deciding on forging boldly ahead. “He’s part of the reason why Belos is hunting down wild witches. The guy’s house cursed him when the Emperor tried to break in. But that’s not the weirdest part.” The mage made full eye contact with her companion, leaning into the witch’s soft touch as she did so. “Phyl said that mana used to be a lot more common on the Isles, because he was teaching it to people. And Belos… didn’t like that too much.”

Eda reared back a bit, blinking in confusion at her young charge.

“You’re telling me some old coot was tossing out ancient magics like candy, and that old Bonehead wanted him out of the picture. Who the hell was this guy, anyway?”

“Well, nowadays he’s a cranky lich with a bad sense of humor. But, back in the day?” The young girl’s digits tapped erratically over one thigh. “Phyl was a human. He’s a planeswalker, Eda.” Her voice was hushed with awe and something twisted, like regret or even nostalgia. “I’m not alone here. I never was. Even if it’s someone like that.”

“Huh. That… sure is something, kid.” The Owl Lady’s face contorted in a complex dance, before landing somewhere approaching a vaguely unsettled look. She followed the bland comment with a comforting pat, though it did little to ease the final nugget of anxiety in the mage’s stomach.

“Did any of your parents ever talk to you, about what things used to be like? Before Belos was in charge.”

She wasn’t certain why she bothered asking. Maybe because Eda’s own experiences with older relatives could corroborate the fantastical tale she’d been given. Maybe because for all her travels, it seemed that the Boiling Isles was simply playing out a time-worn story, trapped beneath the yoke of a tyrant like so many other worlds.

“Not really. When I was a kid, discussing stuff like that just… wasn’t very safe.” The witch broke their light embrace, taking a seat beside the mage as her bony elbows came to rest on the tabletop. “Sure, it was a decade or two after Belos came to power. But when so many folks back then lived for longer than a lot do these days, they had pretty lengthy memories. And you just didn’t want to get mixed up with any of the Emperor’s Coven by talking trash when they came skulking by.”

She deflated somewhat at the response, giving a despondent hum, before the pale older woman continued in a thoughtful tone.

“My gramps did mention a few little pieces here and there when they’d come visiting sometimes. Chattering on about the ‘good old days.’ You know how grandparents are.” Eda’s arm lightly bumped into Luz’s resting limb, eliciting a short chuckle from the younger woman. “Used to just filter it out as old people babble. But now that I think about it…” A taloned hand rose to clutch the witch’s chin in consideration. “I remember a few things that always sounded out of place, back then. Circle-less magic and ancient artifacts. Nothing concrete, but what can you do?”

The planeswalker made an interested noise at the comment, but the Owl Lady had no following remarks, and a few seconds of quiet suffused the kitchenette once more.

“So, you aren’t mad at all?”

A tilted head and co*cked brow were the only response she received, and so Luz clarified.

“For not planning on telling you all of this stuff right away. Or even for the whole, ‘I met the guy who screwed over wild witches’ deal.” She worried at her bottom lip for a second, before breaking eye contact with the pale woman beside her. “I don’t know how I’d feel, knowing the person that’s the reason I’m being hunted by government goons is still on the loose. But it probably wouldn’t be very good.”

Her host gave a sigh that was both fond and world-weary at the same time, dragging Luz into another one-armed hug for the second occasion that morning.

“I'm a little peeved you thought that seeing the Emperor wasn't worth mentioning right off the bat, 'cuz it definitely was. The guy's got a massive stick up his rear about wild witches, and I don't know how far it goes, either. But the rest of all that? Not much point in getting upset over something you can’t control. Especially when it’s ancient news like all of – that.” A flippant gesture accompanied her reference to Phyl, the lich-in-hiding. “And I don’t blame you for keeping secrets, either. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling something about that whole story, but…” Eda’s slim shoulders bobbed in a singular shrug. “I can kinda see why you might think that it’d be upsetting.”

“I just don’t like being distrustful of people I care about. Y’know?” The mage melted into the shared contact, basking in the warmth of the Owl Lady’s care. “Worrying you guys over something we can't control is one thing. But... I feel like I’ve been hiding things from you guys, just because you might not like what I have to say. And it’s not really fair to anybody.” She spun around to give her blank-faced friend a gentle grin. “But it is nice to get things like this off my chest in a while. And... I'll keep that in mind for the future, try to be better about that. Thanks, Eda.”

Recollections of the Titan’s ethereal, burning eyes swam across her conscience, but she stamped the thought down with a burst of effort. If things moved like she hoped, lined up just right to give her a chance to sneak off, find the Titan's core... there would be time for discussing that after any field trips to local castles.

“Think – think nothing of it, kid.” The witch seemed choked up at the comment, and the mage had to resist the urge to giggle at the older woman’s constipated expression in that moment. Apparently, the Owl Lady still needed to work on letting her feelings out. Not that something so minor bothered her.

It would come with time together. Things like that always did, with friends and family.

This time, it was Luz that pulled away, padding towards the refrigerator with a buoyed heart as she dug through its assorted contents in search of a meal. If her bit of intuition was correct, then Amity would be by sooner rather than later. Best to have some energy for the day squared away before she could be sucked into another adventure.

She plopped back down into one of the faded seats across from Eda, who seemed rather deep in thought as the mage crunched her way through a local variation on breakfast cereal. Luz wasn’t completely certain that witches had a one-to-one equivalent for wheat as she recognized it, but her meal was certifiably sugary chunks floating in off-color dairy product. Thus, she opted not to question the source of her sustenance and simply enjoy it for what it was.

Swallowing down the last of her diluted milk, the mage heard a burst of muffled chatter from the front porch as she stepped to the sink with bowl in hand. The lower, feminine tone of their visitor caught her ear as they responded, making Luz perk up – only for her attention to be pulled back around as Eda roughly cleared her throat at the table.

“Hey, so. Girly. I think there’s some things we might need to discuss, still...” The Owl Lady started, her palms firmly planted on the worn furniture. A tick of concern rang through the planeswalker at Eda’s unease, but before either of them could engage in full conversation, the main door swung open to reveal a cheerful Hooty sprouting from his perch.

“Hoot hoot, got a message for you, Luz!”

Amity Blight leaned through the open doorway, warm eyes flashing across the Owl House proper before landing on the pair in the adjacent chamber.

“Well Luz, as I expected, the Emperor heard of our cooperative effort rather quickly.” The coven deputy seemed torn between exasperation and lingering worry at her own words. “It was requested that I escort you to the castle for a conversation with our Lord about our shared experiences yesterday.” Her gaze flicked to the frozen Owl Lady for a moment. “I was also told to inform you both that you have Lilith’s word she won’t be harmed by anyone. Or arrested. Apparently, this encounter is nonstandard, but should be fairly straightforward.”

The human mage turned in her seat, trying for a wry, playful glance at her older companion, but winced when Eda only looked exasperated. One might... creatively interpret such a face as being 'just passably mollified,' and so Luz - leaving little room for argument - stood up from the table to make her way out. Putting aside the churning in her gut at her host's expression, she instead opted to focus on the burgeoning bit of trust she shared in Amity's - and, by extension, Lilith's - character.

“Seems like that’s my cue. No need to pull a police raid down on our heads just because I wanted to chicken out.” She didn’t voice her suspicions regarding the nighttime visions she’d received the evening before, but Luz did make sure to give the lost-looking witch’s hand a light squeeze. “We’ll chat when I get home later. Okay?”

If events turned in her favor, presented her with a way back to Earth... then there would be no need for anymore secrets. If anything, Eda would be relieved - she'd have a lot less work to handle, after all.

A gesture sent Amity back through Hooty’s portal, allowing the mage to tilt forward and speak with a low, conspiratorial tone of amusem*nt.

“And if you keep teasing me about Amity, next time you bring a date back here, I’m getting King and we’re gonna make so. Many. Puns. You got me?”

Some life seemed to reenter the Owl Lady’s leaden expression, pulling a weak huff of laughter from the older woman.

“Whatever you say, Luz. I’m definitely bringing the rest of the gang around to make sure we can spring your keister from jail later.” Her slim digits wrapped tightly around the mage’s own, seriousness leaking back into her gaze. “Please be careful. You're walking into the viper's nest, here. Any backup I can rustle up is gonna take a little bit to get moving, seeing as ya didn’t warn me in advance.”

“I’ll do my best,” She solemnly swore, before gently pulling away.

The young planeswalker met the law witch at the edge of the tree line, Lilith Clawthorne’s staff clasped in her gloved hand once again as it hummed with barely contained power. Luz felt like she could rather relate to the thrumming palisman – her mind was buzzing with a knot of anxiety and anticipation as she stopped before Amity.

She felt like her racing heart beat to the tempo of another’s pulse, far below the earth.

“It feels like I’m constantly asking you this, but… are you ready, Luz?” The pale girl’s eyes met her own, reflecting their dual uncertainties back to the human mage.

“Not at all. But since when has that ever stopped me?”

Their hands wrapped around the glowing stave before them, and with barely a shiver, both young women were transported across the Boiling Isles in a burst of coiled magic.

Arriving upon the extended drawbridge into the Emperor’s personal domain allowed the human mage to take in its entire terrible majesty before truly entering the belly of the beast. It reminded her faintly of Hexside’s exterior, if anything warm and inviting had been leeched from its stonework. Crenellated towers and soaring walkways zigzagged overhead, presenting the indomitable face of the Isles’ ruling governance. Sheer cliffs dropped away into a mote of jagged stalagmites, preventing any possible crossings on foot bar those allowed by the coven guards manning the lowered walkway.

The rippling teeth of a withdrawn portcullis breezed over Luz’s scalp as they strode inside, the planeswalker following Amity’s unperturbed navigation as the pale girl simply shrugged off the enormity of such hostile construction. A salute was shared between her guide and the faceless toadies flanking their approach, who slowly turned to silently track their progress into the castle proper.

Whoever had put together the fort had clearly done a fine job at making it unsettling, if the twist of nerves low in her belly was any indication.

Labyrinthine halls led further into the keep’s depths, every wall draped with fixtures depicting ancient victories and celebration of their beloved rulers. One set of banners seemed to depict a scrolling mural of events leading up to current day in fabric hieroglyphs, while another row of laced flags blared the crests of each major coven on the Boiling Isles. The entire structure’s appearance oozed confidence and wealth, prompting an instinctual curl of Luz’s lip at such opulent displays.

She may not have participated overmuch in the Gruul clans’ more aggressive anti-authoritarian practices, but her time on Ravnica had instilled in the young girl a healthy dislike for the more selfishly-inclined leadership bodies. And if the scenes of terrified people screaming in supplication to Belos’ looming figure didn’t clearly show how the Emperor felt about his subjects, Luz wasn’t sure what could.

They travelled in stilted quiet, with the sensation of roving eyes from the very walls making her skin crawl as they trekked onward.

After some time, they came to stop before a tremendous set of door panels hidden so deeply within the castle that she had no hope of properly finding her way back to the entrance under her own power. The subtle increase in the decadence of their surroundings indicated that they were approaching Belos’ inner sanctum, or some chamber of similar importance. However, it was with some surprise that the planeswalker spotted the cloaked form of Lilith Clawthorne as they rounded the corner, the willowy witch pacing back and forth unhurriedly as she awaited their arrival.

The coven head was quick to spot the duo, giving them a small – if strained – smile as they came to a stop before her.

“Ah, my apprentice. Just on time, and with guest in tow.” The sharp-eyed witch switched her attention to the uncomfortable mage before her. “I hope that your visit to the Emperor’s seat of power has been acceptable thus far, Miss Noceda.”

“It’s uh, it’s definitely something, Miss Clawthorne.” She gave a weak chuckle to bookend the sentiment, but Lilith only gave an understanding nod at her words.

“I believe I understand what you mean. Many visitors tend to feel as such.” A flicker of something dark flashed across her dark green eyes, before the tired grin returned in full force. “Well. At any rate, I do not anticipate that this meeting will be overly long. It isn’t often the Emperor distributes missions such as Amity’s directly to our members, but her preliminary report should be more than satisfactory to provide the bulk of the details.”

The elder Clawthorne gave a surreptitious glance down either end of the hallway past the younger women, before leaning into speak with a hushed tone.

“It is more than likely that our prior indiscretions are already known to Emperor Belos, but I would be appreciative if you did not bring them up without prompting.”

“Oh, of course!” Luz mimed a zipper passing over her lips, a gesture she wasn’t completely sure that the witches comprehended, before giving the intense coven captain a quick nod. “Don’t need to make trouble where there might not be any.”

“Exactly.” Liltih seemed relieved by the mage’s statement, even going so far as to give her shoulder a short squeeze while a more genuine smile grew on her features. “I’m glad that we’ve come to an understanding. And for what it’s worth, I appreciate your assistance to Amity yesterday. There are few people on the Isles that would’ve done something so dangerous, and for that, you have my thanks.”

“Aw, it – it was nothing.” Stuttering around a brief blush at the unexpected praise left the older witch chuckling good-naturedly at her discomfort, though the levity slipped from her posture as her gaze returned to the imposing portal before them.

“I won’t keep you both any longer. The Emperor is not a patient man.” Her slim fingers ghosted over both of their arms for a moment, offering cold comfort to the nervous pair. “Good luck, girls. I am sure you won’t need it, though.”

The waver in Lilith Clawthorne’s voice did not support her verbal encouragement, and Luz knew she saw the same flicker of dread in the witch’s gaze that she’d already shared with Amity. Without further ado, the coven head departed, her dress swishing quietly as she glided over the carpeted flooring towards her office.

Amity might have said something to her then, a murmur of question or comfort, but the mage couldn’t hear it. Her heart was pounding out of control, the feeling of its unsteady rhythm pulsing higher as her hands came to rest upon the freezing wrought iron that barred the Emperor’s throne room from sight. She heaved forward, pressing against its indomitable surface – only for a pair of gloved hands to mirror her action, and with the weight of both women pushing inwards, they crossed the threshold.

A lazy drawl whipped across the darkened chamber, torches flaring to life as its chilled tone bit at Luz’s ears.

“Ah, you’ve finally arrived. My most recent initiate, and her – unexpected companion.”

Emperor Belos sat before them in all his glory, a mailed fist gently cradling his masked skull in lackadaisical malaise even as his frosty blue eyes tracked their approach. White robes swathed his concealed form, immaculate in their splendor as gold trim and scrawling runes draped towards the rough stone floor from his sleeves. The worst part about him, in Luz’s opinion, was the hammered golden mask slid over the man’s features. Antlers sprung from its crown like a prey animal, bold and defensive – but the sloped beak covering Belos’ mouth was plainly predatory.

In spite of trickling concern filling her system, however, Luz only had eyes for the Emperor’s throne – and swinging above his seating, throbbing erratically, was the rotting heart of a desiccated deity.

That gentle nudge prickling the edges of her conscious mind faded as the mage was delivered to exactly where the Titan desired.

The coven deputy dropped into a steep bow, one Luz copied after a moment of indecision, erring on the side of polite caution when faced with the ruler of the Boiling Isles. She did not, however, follow Amity to one knee when the other girl dropped into supplication, a single curled palm resting over her heart as her head bowed to the floor. Her gaze flicked over to Belos, wondering if the man would take offence – only to catch the faintest huff of dark amusem*nt at her fumbling.

“Deputy Blight. I received your report early this morning, following your return to the castle. Impeccable work as ever.” Even spoken so neutrally, the bland words sounded mockingly biting coming from the Emperor’s lips. She wondered if he even knew what his tone sounded like, to other people. “Please, go ahead and recite your mission to me. I always prefer my communications to be in-person.”

Without hesitation, the green-haired witch rose smoothly from the floor, launching into a straightforward explanation of their encounter with Phyl the lich’s underground fortifications as her hands came to rest at the small of her back. Amity’s speech was clear and concise, obviously practiced in the interim so as to ensure she wouldn’t stumble over any words or items of note before her lord.

Through it all, Belos did not interrupt nor ask for clarification. The robed witch was unnaturally still, silently absorbing every provided detail with hardly a shift of his posture as his erstwhile deputy ran the trio through the previous day’s events. It was unnerving, watching his motionless form stare deeply into Amity’s soul as the other girl spoke. Luz swore she was not the only one feeling uncomfortable beneath his unwavering scrutiny, beads of sweat working their way down the coven witch’s nape catching dim torchlight with ease.

Pounding blood through monstrous arteries above constantly dragged at the mage’s attention, pulling her eyes away from her friend or the intimidating Emperor Belos every so often as the thunder of veins spiked without warning. She swore the man caught her fervent glances as Luz fidgeted in her stance, but he opted not to comment as Amity concluded their shared tale.

She noted, distantly, that the pale girl had not denied utilizing potentially illegal magics over the course of their adventure, but simultaneously did not elaborate on the exact methods they had found appropriate for overcoming the trials left in Phyl’s wake. Hopefully, the Emperor would leave that particular detail alone, assuming he had even caught any kind of discrepancy in her report to begin with.

Long minutes had passed with Amity’s recitation, and as her confident words slowed to a stop, quiet dominated the chamber once again. For another lengthy moment, only the crackle of sconces filled the shadowy throne room, before Belos was roused from his ruminations on their efforts.

“It appears, Amity Blight, that you were quite successful.” Languidly, almost threateningly in its casualness, Emperor Belos slid from his seat and rose to his prominent height. He crossed the chamber in a handful of ghostly strides, stopping before his anxious coven member to gently cup her shoulders in his gauntleted palms. “You even did so within the bounds I set for your mission, as well – in word, if not spirit.”

She cringed at the words, an apology bubbling on her lips, but the grim chuckle her ruler let loose silenced any protestations of innocence.

“Cunning is something to be rewarded in my domain, Deputy Blight.” The towering witch leaned in, just a hair, as his voice dipped into something blandly dangerous. “So long as you remember your place.”

Luz tensed at the motion, but the crushing aura of the Emperor receded after but a brief second, his posture straightening once more as his hands fell back to his sides.

“And let it never be said that I allow success to go unrewarded amongst my loyal citizens.”

The mage felt a disorienting sense of déjà vu as the once-student unknowingly mirrored his former mentor’s own words. One limb swung up, a flick of the wrist summoning forth a pale metallic staff that unfolded in his grip, its cap topped with a glimmering cut stone at its peak. The gem twinkled with a charge of harnessed mana, leaving Amity grasping beneath the collar of her white cloak with wide eyes at a dangling medallion she kept hidden within the folds of her uniform.

“Your consistent initiative and drive since your arrival to my castle has proven you worthy of greater things within my ranks.” The carved silver surface of the article shimmered as it shifted, causing Amity to gasp in surprise as its new form settled into place. “Lilith has clearly been a fine mentor to you thus far. Therefore, you shall stand at her side as Deputy Commander of the Emperor’s Coven.”

“Th-thank you, my lord.” The young Blight stammered out a grateful response, her slim digits running over the face of her necklace in clear disbelief. “This is a – a great honor. I won’t let you down.”

“Of course you won’t.” The cruel entertainment had slithered back into his low murmur, but it went unnoticed by the freshly promoted law witch as she stood firmly at attention, shaking off her shock to give the man a determined nod. “Now, Commander Blight, I would suggest you return to your barracks and inform Lilith of this development.”

“Certainly, my liege.” Her starry-eyed gaze faltered for a second as Amity glanced towards Luz’s standing form, a flit of concern entering her smooth expression. “Ah, should I – escort Miss Noceda back to the entrance…?”

“There’s no need for that.” Nothing about Belos’ countenance or words was truly reassuring, a fact reinforced by the doubt in her friend’s furrowed brow at the statement. “Your companion and I need to have a conversation before she returns to her den of iniquity. Do not worry. It shall be – brief.”

Amity clearly did worry about the mage’s wellbeing within the grasp of her lord, but there was little she could do without causing an unacceptable fuss. Luz gave her an encouraging little wave of the hand, a grin she did not truly feel gracing her lips as she attempted to bolster the witch’s flagging spirits.

“I’ll see you later, Amity. Congrats on the promotion.”

It was only with the hesitant retreat of her only backup behind the shuttering slam of the massive metal doors that the Emperor of the Isles finally gave her any attention, turning in place without a whisper to regard the nervous planeswalker with inscrutable, hungry eyes.

“Well now. Seeing as we no longer have an audience.” Belos slid forward, one glacial pace at a time, a cadence Luz gladly met as she backpedaled towards his throne with a gulp. “Luz Noceda. The resident human of Bonesborough. Guest to Eda, the Owl Lady – one of the Isles’ most prominent criminals.”

Oh, crap. Belos wasnotsupposed to know all that.

Just how much did he see past his scouts' little white lies and omissions? Was Amity in danger, after all?

“That’s me, alright. Don’t – don’t wear it out, y’know?” She cursed herself for falling back on a weak try at humor as she was wont when nerves crept up her spine. Especially considering she effectively admitted to being involved with a known felon, and had implicated herself in the older woman’s wrongdoings.

“Oh, but why the concern? I would never harm someone personally invited to my own castle.” The Emperor refused to cease advancing, pushing her closer and closer to the raised dais he regularly perched upon. “Certainly not an individual brought here at the Titan’s request, no less.”

She couldn’t tell if it was her own heart or the Titan’s decaying core that was pounding in her ears at that admission, and suddenly, his knowing too much made a horrific amount of sense. Worse, they both knew the Emperor’s words were a bold-faced lie, but she didn’t have the courage to call him out on it.

“It has been a long while since one of your kind have travelled within my domain.” Her boot knocked against the first step of the throne’s base. “And yet the Blight girl made no comments about that rotten fool’s identity from yesterday. I must wonder why? After all, if memory serves correctly, he did so enjoy running his mouth without end.”

Luz stumbled on the final riser, arms cartwheeling as she pitched backwards towards the extravagant chair – only for a mailed hand to snag her robes, slowly lowering her tense form onto the seat with undue care.

“I shall admit to some curiosity in what the Titan finds so noteworthy about you.” Belos’ dismissive tone could not conceal the ravenous desire within his blasé faire wonderings, the dull sheen of his golden funeral mask looming at her with a tilt. “A human, and a poor mage at that.” Scorn flooded the robed witch’s voice. “A foreign reminder of things best left tightly leashed. Or better yet, forgotten.”

“T-That’s not true.” Her voice crackled on the first syllable, but Luz refused to relent. She hoisted herself upwards on the throne, even as the Emperor’s gloved hand released her cloak’s clasp. “Just because you think ‘wild’ magic should be controlled doesn’t mean it’s evil! Everybody else in the multiverse does just fine with mana.”

“Ah, so you are a planeswalker then. The same as that miserly lich.” Cold satisfaction swelled in his voice as the Emperor leaned out of her personal space. “I had wondered if you were simply a stray, scooped from the Human Realm in the Owl Lady’s wake – an outlier with too much knowledge for your own good.”

The young girl’s breath caught in her throat.

“What d-do you mean? I’m from Earth, but – I ‘walked here on my own.”

“You mean to say that you don’t know?” There was no effort to hide the wicked glee in the Isles’ master’s voice, this time. “Why ever would Edalyn Clawthorne conceal her portal from a human, of all people?”

Luz’s heart stuttered, for a split second, falling out of beat with the Titan’s own flesh.

“Y-You’re lying. Eda wouldn’t – she’s not like that.”

“And what would you know, child?” Belo’s disdain rose to the fore as he regarded the mage with something approaching boredom. “A displaced wanderer amongst outcasts. It’s little wonder she hid her secrets from you, with how easily you speak of things better left unsaid.” The man’s shoulders bobbed with an exaggerated sigh. “Here I thought you might provide an opportunity in finally tying that loose end. Titan knows her sister has done a poor enough job of it.” Icy irises pinned Luz in her frozen seat. “But now I see how little you really matter.”

She shrank in her seat, furious reproach combatting a sinking misery in her gut that left the human mage’s throat tightly closed in the face of the Emperor’s unkind words. Belos simply took her silence as an admission of defeated acceptance.

“In any case. I am not one to fight the wills of my patron.” His clothed arm slithered from beneath his robes once more, tapping the stone headrest of his throne as mana burst to life across the floor, racing towards Luz’s feet as Emperor Belos loomed over her once more. “Do give the Titan my regards. A bit of insight here and there does us both little good. It has been much too long since we’ve had a… proper conversation.”

Her reflexes were too muddled with shock, mind left lethargic in the wake of his prior comments to stop his moving arm. Luz barely had time to open her mouth in protest, to demand an explanation, before the throne was engulfed in crackling magics.

Her eyes slipped closed, waking mind wrenched from the real world into the Titan’s dreamscape as the thrum of a giant heart pounded through her skull.

Going from full wakefulness to being dropped headfirst into a realm beyond the human consciousness was akin to being tossed into a cold tub at the break of dawn. Disorienting nausea flooded Luz’s gut as she was upended into a shallow pool of rippling water, leaving her spluttering and shaking from the soulbound whiplash that struck the mage’s mind. She didn’t have a body in that moment to loose vomit, but her stomach roiled with ghostly displeasure all the same.

Creeping tendrils of mist filtered through the washed out borders of nonreality, an encompassing cloud of vapor slowly peeling away from her location even as the girl stood once more, ethereal water sliding from her incorporeal form without traction. The sensation was uncanny enough to distract her from her own racing thoughts just long enough to be taken aback by the booming voice that cracked through the wet air.

“Luz Noceda.”

It was embarrassing to admit she startled like a wounded cat, jumping and whirling around to face the tremendous form glacially rising from the unearthly fog around them. For a moment, her conflicted feelings and frayed thoughts fled, allowing a measure of uncertain awe to fill the mage’s chest as the Titan made its approach.

It’s chosen avatar was its own severed skull, the great fossilized braincase tilted skywards in its death throes with fanged mouth agape, easily eclipsing the largest mountains she’d ever witnessed. Just as before, two towering infernos roared from its eye sockets, tracking Luz with discomfiting accuracy as the god’s magical pupils flared into being.

“You’ve finally arrived.”

“Wow.” Her whisper gusted out in a burst of breath. “It’s really you. The Titan.” What was she supposed to say to the being whose very bones she’d walked, day after day? It was a mind-boggling sense of divinity and scale that left her blown away by its very existence. Thus, she defaulted to her trusted fallback in the face of uncertainty.

“I’m just glad this means I’m not crazy. Normal people don’t have dreams where they talk to giant skeletons.”

The mist swirled about her ankles, carrying with it the brush of an alien conscience that left her feeling the Titan’s warm amusem*nt in its wake.

“You are perfectly sane, little mage. Perhaps only somewhat misguided.”

Her flagging confidence uplifted by the welcome reception to her sense of humor, Luz pressed forward with the question that had been nipping at her heels since the first night she’d seen the Isles in her dreams.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“The crux of the matter, then.” The Titan’s ageless tone shifted back into seriousness, distant gaze burning into the bold planeswalker before it. “A simple offer. Your presence represents fresh possibilities for my goals. And in exchange, I have the means to return you to your world.”

Her heart panged at the reminder, leaving Luz’s chest tight with the sensation as her mind returned to Belos’ malignant words – but she forged through the burst of tangled emotions, straightening her back as she looked the Titan in the eye best as she could.

“How can I help you? I’m just one person. Not even that powerful of a mage, either.”

“But you are a planeswalker. And your freedom provides opportunities that cannot be found elsewhere.”

She stepped back as the still pool rippled, a crest of stone ripping upwards as it twisted and flowed, solidifying into a raised perch vaguely reminiscent of Belos’ lofty throne base. Rocky steps crackled into being from pure thought as the mage climbed the provided platform, curiosity and foreboding driving her onward towards the Titan’s offered answers.

At the peak of the mental construction, a snapshot of a chaotic workshop dominated its center. Brassy measuring equipment and inscrutable arcane tools hovered in midair, their shelves and walls an unformed mass of fog that provided the uncanny facsimile of a real space in reality. The scene gave a sense of manic revelation, countless blueprints and priceless artifacts strewn about the marked tiles radiating from the illusion’s center.

And seated at its heart, was an aged human man.

The male was hard at work assembling some form of sprouting mechanical tool, the light of frenzied victory reflecting from his eyes in the sparks of his efforts forever frozen in time by the still image. Thin grey hair grew from his scalp, slicked back by a careless handful of grease to match the wild silver beard and thick brows springing out over his furrowed features. Extravagant robes bedecked his hunched form, deep purples and reds offsetting the dark ocean blue of their body.

“Eons ago – long before your people conquered the wilds of your ‘Earth’ – war ravaged a distant world.”

Immense weapons and glowing artifice faded into being beside the mage, superimposed over the depiction like a developing photograph as his workshop cluttered with uncounted treasures.

“Conflict destroyed the very fabric of their planet. Ancient tools of massive destruction left the lands poisoned; its people scattered.”

Before Luz’s eyes, the inventor aged, shoulders buckling inwards with defeat as he grew greyer and sadder.

“Layers upon layers of plans were fruitlessly committed. Unspeakable atrocities tore through friend and foe alike.” The Titan’s voice grew grave as it dropped into a hushed whisper. “As the war came to a close, with extinction on the horizon, an answer was offered.”

“What did he make?” The mage breathed, circling the ancient artificer with frothing hatred in his gaze.

“Myself.”

Her head shot up, regarding the looming skull with shock at the admission.

“Somebody – somebody made you?” Luz’s hands flexed helplessly as she stared at the lingering specter of a prehistoric god. “Who? Why?”

“The greatest planeswalker to ever travel the multiverse was my master.” The weight of millennia pressed upon the scene, crushing the air from her lungs as a musty breeze, akin to a moldering library, filtered through her nostrils. “My creator. My killer…

“Urza.”

The name plucked at some long-forgotten memory at the back of her mind, a whispering of legend that shook the dream world with its passing as the Titan breathed out its syllables like a confession.

“My creation was for a singular purpose in his grand machinations.”

The deity’s gaze swept over the stunned mage with ancient, inhuman pain ringing through its voice.

“War.”

Luz stumbled as nonreality quaked, the false earth dropping away from her position in a shattered ring as a foreign world took its place. The platform hurtled through space and time, hurtling as a meteor towards the spinning blue globe far below. The mage’s perception slammed into place as her perch halted abruptly, allowing her to track the menagerie of events occurring on the surface of the plane. They flowed like running water, a slideshow of inscrutably ancient conflicts that ripped across reality as they passed.

Two armies clashing, their soldiers outfitted with steaming mechanical suits and tremendous siege engines. A world-shattering blast wiping the clash of writhing combatants from the world in a brilliant flash. Countless smaller skirmishes and battles, between humans and elves and alien, glistening things swathed in rotten flesh and metal. The horrid, breath-stealing descent of a moon from the heavens above, its red surface pockmarked with screaming berserkers and slithering abominations. The cresting swoop of an aerial battle, finally encompassed by a tremendous explosion that chased away a roiling thunderhead the color of pitch –

“Now you begin to understand.”

She hurled herself away from the edge, clutching at her chest and gasping for breath as the buckling world faded from view, slowly returning Luz to her original locale of steaming mists and trickling pools.

“As with many of his endeavors, my master’s plan did not come to fruition.” Her bizarre host continued on, unaffected by the ancient wars it had once borne witness to lifetimes ago. “I was laid low by trickery, shunted to a faraway world and left to rot. Another failure, discarded and forgotten.”

“That – that’s insane.” She finally found her own words once more, leaving the mage staring at the Titan’s fleshless head in disbelief. “You’re… a thinking person. And he just left you to die? Just like that?”

“Urza was not one to consider the ethical qualms of his own decisions.” A note of sadness blanketed the words rumbling through the humid fog about her. “The passage of time, and the constant presence of war, weighed greatly upon him. In the end, his death was a kindness.”

“Okay, this is all – a lot to take in right now.” Luz waved a sweaty palm through the gathering mist, hysteria edging into her tone. “But you still haven’t told me why I’m here. All of this stuff happened thousands of years ago.” She paused, her gut plummeting with a growing thought. “He won, right? Urza?”

“No.”

Above the human mage, the faded grey gave way to stars once more, revealing the rocketing approach of an unfamiliar celestial body millions of miles into the heavens. The orb was pitted through with sickly greys and blacks, offset by the tan of its own diseased hide as it spun about its axis – only to reveal an unfathomably deep crater scoring its soil, descending to the plane’s core.

“With time, comes comprehension. I have spent many ages learning to harness my own magical abilities. To seed plans amongst my creations, that I may see their fruition before my end. And I have watched for the signs of my birth-foe’s return.”

The Boiling Isles proper faded into focus, the expanse of calcified bones and sweeping mountains she’d come to recognize and even start to love, the various witch and demon settlements sprouting from its surface like distant weeds.

“My chosen scion can only do so much, bound to the Demon Realm as he is. I require an agent that can move beyond this earthly coil.”

Belos’ dread fortress swelled from the mists like a bloated carcass, the far-off thumping of the Titan’s heart radiating from the inner keep.

“Information must be gathered. My plans must be adjusted, lest tragedy strike.” The planeswalker’s platform burst from the sodden soil, bringing her closer to eye level with the tremendous skull of the dreamscape’s master. “Mistakes have already caused countless, pointless deaths. But I cannot rest. I feel the presence of ancient enemies burrow beneath my perception like an infection. They remain as a plague upon reality, one that threatens every being in the multiverse.”

It paused for a moment, flaming irises flickering over the prone body of Luz Noceda.

“When I felt you break through the protections I put in place, I knew that action was required. And thus, I offer you my deal.”

The diseased world filling the sky shifted, as the dim outline of an indistinct celestial twin slotted into place to loom as a dreadful pair of omens over Luz.

“I shall offer you an enchantment – free passage between the Human and Demon Realms, hidden beneath my aegis.” Its glowing eyes bored into her with divine intensity. “And in exchange, you must travel to the former territories of Urza’s foes. One lays decrepit and abandoned, its horrors extinguished. The other -” The decaying god hesitated, fearful uncertainty filling its voice that sent a shiver creeping up Luz’s spine. “I believe their return waits on the horizon. Scattered remnants exist elsewhere, but they do no instill the same sickness within my soul as I gaze upon them.”

A sliver of hope entered the waiting Titan’s words.

“What say you?”

For a handful of lengthy moments, she simply didn’t respond. Facts and fears and concerns tumbled over in the mage’s mind in the wake of such a momentous upheaval, warring in her heart as her lips parted to answer the slain deity.

Shouldn’t she be leaping at the possibility of going home? Of being offered an adventurer’s truest dream? A god-given quest, an epic journey to defeat ancient evils and uncover world-ending secrets – handed on a silver platter to her, because she was ‘special.’ Just unique enough to matter, with the right skills to back it up.

Years ago, on the tail of fantasy novels and naïve wanderlust, Luz Noceda would have agreed in a heartbeat, damn any consequences.

Why, then, did she only feel exhaustion and uncertainty welling like throw-up in the back of her throat?

She’d have to say yes if she ever wanted to come and go with any ease from the Boiling Isles. It was possibly her only way home, unless the Emperor was to be believed. But when she fought past the lump in her throat, tamped down the uncertainty and terror at being faced with such a monumental task, the answer that passed her incorporeal lips was –

“Can I have some time to think about it?”

It felt like an admittance of her faltering courage, a misstep on the path home. And as the fallen giant looked down upon her in silence following her soft query, she rushed to explain her own quivering decision.

“It’s just – I don’t know if I’m up to what you’re asking. I’ve… I’ve never -” The Eldrazi horde flashed through her mind’s eye, leaving her clutching her own arms in comfort at the reminder. “Dealt with something this big before. It’s… a lot. And I want to go home. I do. But…”

How could she justify giving up her greatest dream, for – what. Because she was scared? Because the slimy jerk who lorded over her friends on the Boiling Isles may not have been lying?

Luz wasn’t certain which outcome would be worse, in the end.

“I believe I understand.”

Her line of sight returned to the Titan’s burning sockets, its voice shot through with tired acceptance.

“I implore you to consider my offer closely, Luz Noceda. But I cannot force your hand. Not in this moment.”

Drifting waves of multi-hued mana coalesced on her open palm as the tremendous creature spoke, etching out an arcane glyph even as the vapors faded from her skin. Luz’s hand felt comfortably warm as the spellwork passed.

“If you wish to accept, return to the castle and display this mark to Belos and his followers. You shall be allowed safe passage to my core once more.”

There was no opportunity to rescind her gut feeling, to fight back the regret flooding her body even as the Titan spoke. The dreamscape was fading from sight, taking the abominable image of its two unnatural moons into the void as the deity’s voice grew ever more distant.

“More is at stake than you fully know, young planeswalker. For all of our worlds.”

Without further ado, Luz’s mind slipped away from the unreality of the resting plane, leaving behind only ghosts and echoes as she awoke -

“Miss Noceda? Miss Noceda.” A pause, as a cool hand gave her limp arm a more frantic shake. “Luz.”

“Gah!” The mage shot up in place, heart racing to the thunder of her pulse and hers alone once more as the groggy girl fumbled into a sloppy crouch. “W-What happened? How long was I out?”

“A rather significant time, I believe. You were in the Emperor’s chamber for hours.” Lilith Clawthorne’s pinched expression swam into vision, staring at the disoriented planeswalker with notable concern. “Are you alright? My lord promised he intended you no harm, but if he cast any spells upon you…”

“No, no, is’fine – wait a minute.” Her current location finally registered with Luz as she gazed around at the carpeted hallway before Belos’ inner sanctum. “Did he just – dump me on the floor when I was out for too long? Seriously?”

“Ahem. It, ah, appears that may have been the case, yes.” The pale witch winced in sympathy at the mage’s incredulous tone, shifting her carved staff back and forth uncertainly. “Are you ready to return to the Owl House? It is getting fairly late. I’m quite certain that Edalyn will be rather worried about you, if she hasn’t already set off to burn down the castle.”

Her heart fell at the mention of the younger Clawthorne sister, but Luz didn’t allow it to slip onto her expression, simply giving the older woman a tired nod.

“Sure. Let’s just… get me home.”

As it was the day before, her safe return to the Owl House was met with cheer all around by the home’s inhabitants and guests.

Well, for the most part.

“Oh, come on!” King threw his clutched plush toys to the side, scattering the pile he’d assembled at the foot of the coffee table in a fit of rage as Luz entered the homestead with Hooty gleefully in tow. “I was really hoping for some jail-busting action today. What’s the point of making all these stupid plans if we never get to do them?”

Watching the diminutive demon give a squeal of frustration as he face-planted the dashed puddle of stuffed animals did manage to draw a slight chuckle from Luz, but the day’s events dragged at her senses harshly. Furthermore, seeing the warmly pleased expression on Eda’s face as the mage came through her door only made her feel sick to her stomach, where before such a reaction would have left her easily grinning.

“Don’t worry, buddy. We’ll put them to use someday.” Gus patted the distraught King of Demons on his back from the boy’s position next to Willow on the couch, giving him an apologetic smile. “At least Luz got back safe, y’know? Sometimes you just gotta prioritize.”

“Speaking of which – yesterday, I honestly thought everybody was freaking out for nothing.” The plant witch’s arms crossed over her breastbone as she turned to give her friend a tender look of worry. “But you were gone way longer today, Luz. What did the Emperor even want that took so long?”

For a second, she contemplated lying by omission again. Letting things slide to the side, remain static and unresolved. But the expectant expressions turned her way left the mage’s remaining willpower crumbling, even as her features followed suite.

“It wasn’t Belos that made me take so long.” Luz plopped into the overstuffed loveseat with a heavy sigh, cradling her head in her dirty palms as she ran through the day’s revelations. “It was the Titan.”

“What?” Came the general response at varying levels of volume. Her exhausted eyes slid closed, even as she launched into an explanation.

“I started having dreams, after I first got here. I didn’t realize it right away, but every time I connected to more mana, they’d come back. Stronger and clearer. Because the Titan was doing it.” She glanced up at the stunned crowd, taking in their collective flabbergasted faces in turn. “It’s still alive, sort of. And it… it offered me something, in exchange for helping it.”

“What did it say?” The Owl Lady’s voice trembled with hushed anticipation, even as she leaned in with a look of open wonder.

“The Titan offered me a way home. To Earth.”

“Oh. Oh! That’s great, kiddo!” Eda slapped the young mage on her arm, giving a bark of laughter – but this time, Luz kept one eye on the exchange. She heard the relief filtering through the older witch’s voice, caught the flash of Willow giving her mentor a brief, furious glare at the woman’s reaction. “What did it want from you, though?”

“If I want to go home, I’d have to do a… ‘quest.’” Her gaze stayed stapled to the floor, fingers tapping an anxious rhythm over one knee. “There’s really old things out there, in the multiverse. Dangerous stuff that killed the Titan. And it wants me to find them, dead or alive. Maybe even…” Luz’s voice wavered against her will. “Try and stop them.”

“…Ah. That’s, uh – a pretty steep asking price, honestly.” The pale woman cringed at the mage’s flat statement, retreating from Luz’s personal space as she realized the error of her celebration. “So I’m guessing you said yes.”

“…No.”

“No?” Her answer seemed to dumbfound her host, leaving Eda blinking in confusion at the brief retort. “But – I thought that was your whole game plan, girly. I know it sounds dangerous, but if it’s all you’ve got…”

“Eda.” Willow’s voice cut across sharply, the bespectacled witch glaring at their companion with burning frustration. “You have to stop this. It’s gone on long enough.”

The Owl Lady moved to retort, slashing a hand past her throat in a call for silence from the younger girl, but Luz’s own words cut across their antics with a burgeoning tone of hurt.

“Part of the reason I didn’t say yes was because of something Belos said to me.” She was standing, now – not quite yelling, but rapidly approaching that point. “He thought I wasn’t a planeswalker right away, even though he knows about them. He thought maybe I was a stray that Eda picked up. With her portal.”

Nobody verbally responded, shock written across their faces – but they didn’t need to. The unhappy resignation in Willow’s eyes as she huffed, sitting back in her seat; the guilty shuffling King performed as he looked anywhere but towards Luz; and the sharp intake of breath from Eda herself as a flash of regret passed over her features was all she needed to see.

And suddenly, the unease she’d felt the evening of the Bonesborough carnival clicked into place.

“You said ‘jeez.’” Her other friends didn’t comprehend what the mage meant, with that statement – but the Owl Lady did. Luz spotted the second she fully registered the word that had previously passed her own lips when she gave a wince. “The other night. At the fair. You said ‘jeez’. Short for swearing on Jesus’ name. From human religion. And I’ve never heard anybody else say that since I got here. Not a one.”

No defense was offered by her host in response.

“How could you.” Luz’s voice dropped to a hush, her eyes and throat and chest burning with emotions she could barely pick apart in that moment. “How could you. Eda, I – we had a deal! You knew, from the start, that I was looking for things from Earth. And then -” Now she was shouting, anger flaring beneath her breast like a spurt of lava. “I told you exactly what I was trying to do! I was trying to get home! You knew, and you didn’t say anything at all!”

The older woman’s face scrunched into a wince, shoulder’s drooping as she held her hands before her in a plea for clemency.

“Hold on, kid, let me just -”

“I haven’t seen my mother in five years!” Her hand slashed the air as her words did the same to Eda’s retort. “It wasn’t by choice. She didn’t even know I could leave – that I would leave – until I was already gone. And I couldn’t get back.” Luz was fully screaming, at this point, feeling a rush of heat to her cheeks and behind her eyes as tears prickled their corners. “How do you think she felt? Finding me gone like that? I was all she had left. She was all I had, too. And I literally – could not – tell her! Anything!”

A disturbed lull fell over the household as the mage panted, snorting air like an enraged bull as she stood before the cowed group witches and demons. Gus was the first to shatter the uneasy quiet, horrified realization in his low murmur.

“You had it the whole time, didn’t you?” One palm was pressed to his chest in hurt, a wounded look in his dark eyes. “That’s how you always had so much human stuff. And I… I get not telling me about it. I’m just – some friend of your apprentice. But… you didn’t tell Luz?”

“She said she’d tell you a lot sooner.” Willow refused to look at her mentor, her angry gaze roaming the floors and furniture in agitation as she did so. “That’s why King and I didn’t say anything. Eda wanted it to be a ‘surprise.’”

“I did! I did plan to tell her. Today, even!” The Owl Lady leapt to her own defense; voice thready with emotion as she gave Luz an imploring stare. “It’s what I was trying to say, this morning. Before the Blight kid picked you up. I just – I didn’t have enough time.”

“Didn’t have enough time?” The pale witch instantly understood her mistake as Luz loomed over her seated form, arms angrily chopping the air with indistinct gestures. “I’ve been living with you for weeks, Eda! Weeks! And sure, you didn’t know exactly what I was looking for, for a while.” Her hysterical laugh of disbelief left the older woman cringing away, her golden gaze roaming the frayed threads of her couch. “But after? What about then?”

The furious mage fell back into her seat, twisting twitching fingers through her braid as she did so.

“Lying to me this entire time. I can’t even believe it.” Luz’s glared at the miserable Owl Lady across the coffee table, pinning the woman in her seat with an enraged look. “I thought that maybe – maybe I meant something to you, Eda. That maybe you weren’t just looking for – cheap help.” She spat the words like a curse into the heavy air of the Owl House.

“You did, kid. You still do.” Her host sounded as exhausted as the mage felt, slowly wringing her hands in her lap as she looked anywhere but towards the raging girl in her living room. “And I should’ve told you sooner. I – I’m sorry, Luz. It’s just that I…”

“What? You just… what.” Choler surged in her chest once more at the pathetic apology, pulling her half from the chair for a second time even as Luz attempted to rein in her bristling temper with a burst of iron willpower. “Did you think I’d never want to see my family again? That I’d just be happy to float around, and live out of other people’s houses for the rest of my life?” The mage’s tremulous tone dipped, punctuating each of her words vigorously. “My home wasn’t perfect. But just because my mami and I fought, doesn’t mean I never wanted to go back.”

The Owl Lady’s mutter was so quiet, she almost missed it, even in the tense stillness of the living room.

“Why not?”

Instinctive reaction pushed Luz to snap at her host again – but the sleepless lines creased into the older woman’s face that pulled at her dejected expression left her looking so very much her own age, in that moment, that the mage choked on her heated words. Instead, she only managed a short, heated question.

“What did you say?”

“I said, ‘why not.’” Eda finally met her eyes, brow furrowed as she spoke defensively, only the echo of long, restless nights in its wake. “It’s what I did, after all.”

That response left the planeswalker feeling so off-kilter that she could only gape like a gasping fish, the hurt and anger in her chest bundled into something tight and piteous at the confession.

“I – I don’t understand.”

“When you first got here, and told me what had happened with your ma, my original thought was: ‘Well, she’s never going back.’” The Owl Lady let out a thin, humorless chuckle that flipped something in the younger woman’s stomach. “It wasn’t just me being a stubborn old biddy, you know.”

The slim witch rose from her sofa, clawed hands grasping uselessly as she circled the room, her gaze distant with bitter remembrance.

“My parents never actually kicked me out. Did I ever tell anyone that?” Her casual tone belayed the upset Luz could feel brewing beneath the woman’s conversational tone. “They tried their hardest to help me out. All the time. It was… way too much.” Manicured nails dug into the couch’s upholstery as the pale witch hissed out ancient history tinged with self-recrimination. “I couldn’t take it anymore, hurting everybody I cared about. Hearing my parents worry over treatments and bills when they thought I was knocked out. Seeing my dad’s eye every time he walked through the door, when I’d…”

Luz swallowed heavily as horror lanced through her, watching Eda make a vague clawing motion towards her drawn face alongside the damning words.

“So I left home. Gave us all some space. And after a while, I just… never really went back.” She flopped back into her seat, flanked by the mingled expressions of her guests. “Don’t really know what else I should say, kid. That I’m a lonely old bird who’s scared of a quiet nest? That maybe, with you here, it was… starting to feel a little like a home again?”

There were no tears or trembling lips from the Owl Lady, only the quiet defeat of a person who felt they’d already lost. Slim digits pressed into her temple as the woman sighed, resting her chin in a cupped hand.

“For what it’s worth, Luz. I’m sorry for not telling you. Really.” A small, self-deprecating snort escaped Eda’s closed throat. “The big, bad Owl Lady’s always been scared of the littlest things.”

None of them commented on her outpouring of regret and admission, only trading uncertain glances as the conversation finally dwindled to a simmering halt.

The mage didn’t rightfully know how to feel. Her anger at being misled still bubbled, uncharacteristically intense – but was it, truly? She had every right to be upset. Eda talked about friends, and family – but a family wasn’t supposed to do this to each other. There shouldn’t be lies and regrets and sadness like this between them.

She’d be wrong to say, however, that there wasn’t at least a modicum of understanding beneath it all. Knowing the fear of losing somebody you cared about. Losing everyone you cared about. Luz had seen it, and felt, every day and every year of her life. First, with her own mother. And then with every family she’d found since then.

Even… even this one, in the welcoming halls of the Owl House.

A twitch spasmed through her upper body as a feathery, elongated form gently collided with the planeswalker’s arm, wrapping about her trembling shoulders as Hooty nuzzled into the side of her head.

“Sorry I didn’t say anything either, bestie.” The house demon gave a low, mournful croon, pressing the strange mixture of wood and down that composed his bulk against Luz’s bare forearms. “I shoulda told you when I heard them chatting about the portal the other day.”

“…It’s alright, Hooty. I don’t blame you.” Her fingers lightly ran over the owl creature’s chin, a single tear finally slipping free as Luz gifted him a wobbly attempt at a smile.

In that moment, the human mage arrived at her decision.

Clamping down on the frustration and wounded sadness that still battled within, she stepped from her flattened seat, kneeling before the Owl Lady to meet her downcast eyes as Luz’s palms slid over Eda’s tightly balled fists. The witch startled, her gaze flicking from the floorboards to meet the mage’s own with uncertainty shining through.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t really upset with you right now, Eda.” She acknowledged the burning core of anger nestled within her chest, taking in the way her companion winced at the statement as she did so. “You weren’t truthful to me. And it… it really hurts. I thought we understood each other, but I guess it’s not just you that needs to work on talking feelings out more often.”

It was uncanny, watching the boisterous Owl Lady of Bonesborough try to shrink through her own furniture and escape, but Luz held tight to the woman’s hands as she allowed her own aggravation to slide from the fore of her mind.

The anxious faces of her friends filled her peripheral vision, steeling the mage’s resolve as she cleared her tightened throat.

“Just because I’m feeling hurt now doesn’t mean I’ll run away from my problems forever. Because… you don’t do that to family.”

Eda didn’t say anything; the glimmer of unsteady hope in her gaze was enough.

“But I need to see my mom again. Please.” Their hands parted, the chilled flesh of the Owl Lady’s fingers shifting as her own warm palms retreated. “I think we all need some time to sort things out. And… I have to find her. To make sure she’s okay.”

“…I’ve got you, girly.” Light flared in the older woman’s grasp, unfolding into first a worn wooden handle, followed by the blocky form of an ancient wooden briefcase. The artifact’s enormous globular eye stared blindly towards the rafters with a jaundiced, predatory shape that set Luz’s teeth on edge – but the item remained inanimate. Eda fondly ran a hand over its surface, before tugging a mottled brass key from the depths of her silvery mane after a moment’s hesitation.

“I know it’s pretty late, but – I can take you whenever you’re ready.”

“Let me go get my stuff.” The mage took off up the stairs, beginning to feel lighter than she had in years. Despite the heartbreak of today, and all of its horrid revelations, Luz let herself openly hope for the better as she quickly packed her meager belongings into the bulging pack she’d always kept at the ready.

Everything was moving so fast today, but… finally, she was going home. No matter what that might entail.

Returning to the first floor with bag in hand, however, brought some of her darker thoughts back to the surface. The poorly concealed disappointment on her friends’ faces at her imminent departure was plainly evident, and the concern tugged at her own wounded heart. Slowing to a stop, she dropped her pack to the floor, stepping forward to embrace each of them in turn.

“You guys really made my time here great. I just wanted you to know that.” Hooty was the last she wrapped her arms around, the house demon giving a short, needy whimper as the mage pulled away. “And… I promise I’ll be back, as soon as I can. But this is something I need to do. I hope you can understand.”

“Go get ‘em, girl.” Willow slugged her shoulder with a light punch, meeting the young planeswalker’s eye as she gave her a wistful smile. “I’m sure everything’ll be fine. We’re not going anywhere.”

“See ya around, Luz.” Gus gifted her with a firm handshake and a winning grin to offset his wobbling lip. “Maybe if we get the chance, we can come visit you instead?”

“That’d be something to see.” A surprised chuckle slipped out at the suggestion, helping to bury the lingering frustrations of the night. She was thrown back a step, however, as King slammed into her shins.

“I’m gonna miss you and your help with chores, buddy.” The demon didn’t even attempt to hide his misery, prompting a pitying pat from the mage upon his boney skull as she offered a comforting hand.

Hooty was unable to communicate anything meaningful beyond his mildly melodramatic sobs, but Luz received the gist of his feelings anyway and appreciated them.

The flinch-inducing sensation of a hole in reality being torn asunder prompted the mage to turn on her heel, skin crawling when a wave of coiling mana ripped past her. Eda’s portal case slid open like a pamphlet, revealing the softly coruscating form of a passage through the multiverse.

“Ya ready, kiddo?”

“…Yeah. I am.”

With a final departing wave to her melancholic companions, Luz stepped through the door to another world as fragile relief swept over her blasted mind.

It was time to go home.

Until she’d taken her first steps across the foreign surface of a distant land, the planeswalker had never fully comprehended the unique facets of a world’s scent. Such a thing was quite often dependent upon the terrain and its inhabitants, but nonetheless, each plane she’d visited had held its own individual strain of fragrant air that she’d come to intrinsically digest.

Stepping foot on Earth’s soil for the first time in half a decade - feeling the soft breeze carried through towering maples and birches and oaks as their limbs scratched out a peaceful, rustling symphony – Luz felt her lungs fill with the scents of her once-home.

The delightful gulp of warm summer air was hampered by the damp decay surrounding their entry point, to some degree. Moaning planks and logs of a rotten cabin voiced their pain to the still evening atmosphere, indistinct shapes coated in mildew and dust looming from dark corners as the mage pushed onto an uneven wooden porch.

Eda’s portal snapped closed with a fizz behind her, and Luz looked over her shoulder, half-expecting to be alone once more – only to find the Owl Lady hauling her arcane device into the immense storage of her enchanted locks, dusting palms across her tattered dress as she met the younger girl at the battered door.

She gave a low, regretful sigh at the planeswalker’s silent question, dropping hands to her hips as she took in the darkened forest before them.

“I know we just finished having a screaming match in the living room. And – I get if you don’t want to come back. Honest.” Dimmed golden irises flicked down to Luz’s person as she spoke. “But if we’re not close enough to your mama, we’ll have to see about some transportation for you before I get back.”

“You don’t have to do that for me.” The murmur was both discomfited and abashed, even as the mage took her first steps down the splintered wood of the front approach. “Were you thinking we just fly all the way there? You didn’t even bring Owlbert.”

“I may not be the best at figuring out human technology, you know, but I do understand cold hard cash. And taxis.” A sheaf of bound American bills slid from her expansive hairdo into a waiting set of claws, matched by the bemused tilt of the woman’s brow as she shook it towards her companion.

“…Ah. That makes sense, yeah.”

Their trek through the shadowed woodlands was unnaturally quiet, the lighthearted banter they’d previously shared withered away in the face of Eda’s iniquities. It left Luz’s gut churning with the embers of frustration – intermingled with a wistful kind of guilt. She had to tell herself there was nothing wrong with her feelings, and that it hadn’t been her mistakes that had led to where she and the Owl Lady now stood.

At least, not completely.

Midnight was fast approaching by the time they located a break in the oppressive trees, spilling out onto a cracked blacktop lane that curved away into the distance; and beyond, the soft glow of squat middle-class housing. The mage led their fractured party at the front, stepping towards the dented metal of a street sign in the dim illumination of the summer moon – and clapped a hand to her mouth as a thrill of excitement and bitter nausea ripped upwards.

“Luz? What’s wrong?” Eda appeared at her shoulder, brow furrowed in conflicted concern as she not-quite reached for the mage’s shivering arm. The witch jerked back, however, as she let out a hysterical stream of giggles at the sight that didn’t sound healthy at all.

“This sign. I recognize it. It’s -” She turned to her companion, feeling horror and bitter amusem*nt biting at her heart. “This is my street. All this time, and I was so close. I didn’t even know it.”

Fighting down the urge to burst into either hysterical laughter or tears, the mage spun on her heel, charging ahead with growing determination as the pale witch struggled to follow in her tracks.

She knew exactly where to go.

A miniscule two-story house loomed around the corner as she passed, leering down at Luz like an unholy phantom of nightly dreams as her feet brought her closer, steps stonily entranced. She noted, distantly, that the lawn looked well cared for, none of the hedges or shrubs bursting from their boundaries to spill towards the road. Not that there were many, of course. For all that Camila Noceda had loved her miniature garden, they’d never had the room or funds to expand its reach.

The spare key laid in its familiar spot, entrenched in a corona of rust beneath a small, grey stone at the foot of the front stoop. She’d always thought that it’d been a terrible place to hide something there – not like the neighborhood was all that bad. But her mother had simply given her shoulder a warm squeeze, commenting how she always wanted to ensure that her daughter would be able to get home safely.

Spikes of corrosion fought the lock as numb fingers slid its counterpart home, but a deft twist of the wrist was all that was necessary to pull the door ajar. Her boot made little sound as the carpet absorbed the impact, cushioning each foot fall as Luz entered her silent childhood home. The only source of light was the soft blue of the kitchen’s overhead lamp, clearly left on to deter any unwanted intruders as the owner remained away for their job.

Camila did tend to work later shifts at the hospital. It appeared that, as well, had gone unaltered in her absence.

At any moment, Luz feared she would awake in her bedroll on the floor of the Owl House with the morning sun, consigning all that she saw to a fading nightmare as she met another day. Seeing the house so… static after her departure – aging furniture still in place, knickknacks and keepsakes kept dusted and shelved – was more jarring than any unforeseen modifications she might have found.

Or so the mage assumed.

When she finally located something to mark the passage of time in her wake, it nearly ripped the breath from her lungs. Shaking hands swept down to trace a wandering thumb over the framed picture of their little family that her mother had placed atop a reclaimed waist-high drawer, a tangle of emotions tugging her throat closed. The photo was perched upon what was clearly a shrine to her missing daughter, depleted crimson candles still standing vigil over the twisting scrawl of Spanish prayers and notes of pleas lying atop the assembly of Christian iconography. Her mother’s favorite necklace was wrapped tightly about the picture’s border, the gold cross mottled by an anxious thumb through years of worrying at its surface.

A hushed whisper slid out, unbidden in the dark.

“Have you ever felt like you died, and nobody told you?”

She almost jumped as the ghostly figure responded at her side.

“Well, yeah. Once or twice. But, uh – those are stories for another time, I think.”

Luz blinked owlishly at Eda standing in her home’s entryway, the image so ludicrous to her fogged mind that it took a moment for it to fully register with the distraught planeswalker. She shook her head to clear the clinging web of befuddlement, softly placing the cherished photo back in its resting place as she gestured towards the kitchen.

“Let me go put some coffee on. I don’t think mo- she’ll be home soon. Nurses always work late around here.”

Slim arms folded over one another self-consciously, the pale woman’s voice unusually shy as she beheld Luz’s childhood abode.

“You sure you want me to stick around for now? If you’re not – if you don’t need me here, I can…”

Even thinking of spending a second alone in the grave loneliness of her empty home left the mage feeling horribly stricken with anxiety, damn her frustrations with the older woman in that moment.

“It’s fine. Trust me. I just need to check some things first. Once my… my mom gets home, you can head out. When you want.”

She left the pale witch seated in her own tiny kitchen, a bubbling pot of black caffeine set upon the counter as Luz tromped up the creaking stairs towards her old bedroom. The second floor was just as cared for as the first – but as the mage examined familiar items more closely, she found the cracks in her mother’s façade. Piles of bills and letters left heaped just out of sight; pattern-less spots of neglected laundry or housekeeping fallen to the wayside; thick coatings of dust where Camila had abandoned anything not of interest for the time being.

Based upon the oiled hinges her door swung on, and the immaculate appearance of Luz’s lumpy bedframe and desk, such things had been deemed as more important than the rest.

A snapshot of her own past stared back at the planeswalker as she froze in the threshold, a wave of satisfied nostalgia flowing through her before the girl slowly dropped to one knee. A questing hand rooted through drawers and shelves at ground level, pulling relics from years gone by for fond inspection. Posters of bands and artists littered the walls, fighting her crude sketches of yesteryear for interior real estate. Stuffed toys were crammed into baskets and shelving, their sagging plush forms soft to the touch. Piles of filled drawing pads resided upon her old desk and bedside tables, the fanciful works of a young girl that had never truly experienced a wider world of magic and adventure beyond.

Luz wasn’t quite certain how long she spent reminiscing in her unlit bedroom, feeling like a stranger in her own skin, before an obscured murmur of conversation down below caught her attention. She scrambled to her feet once more when one of the voices pitched towards furious yelling, skittering down the steps two at a time like she was racing to meet the school bus on a lazy weekday morning.

The mage didn’t fully register anything that was being said, simply reacting to the scene as she found it at the kitchen table. A short figure was advancing on a retreating Eda, hands held out before her to display her empty palms, while the person raised a wooden baseball bat over their head in threat. Luz lunged forward, grabbing the weapon’s handle as she shouted over the chaotic scramble for attention.

“Mami, no! Eda es una amiga!”

Their attacker choked upon hearing the frantic plea, her head twisting around to face the mage as she kept the bat pointed skywards.

Had she always towered over her mother, this way? Or had Camila shrunken in the intervening years since Luz had last seen her? The streak of aged silver in her warm, chocolate bun was new. As was the leanness to her face – an almost gaunt tint to the woman’s features, more likely from exercise than poor health, if the firm muscles pressing against the mage’s hold were any indication. The soft roundness of her mother had dulled with time and loss, clearly replaced by determination in its stead.

A single, quivering syllable rang across the stunned silence in Luz’s wake. She met the reflection of her own brown orbs across their interlocked limbs at the sound.

“Mija?”

Chapter 20: Interlude 3

Chapter Text

“…I’m sorry.”

Indistinct murmurs filtered through the background chatter.

“Why don’t you try to understand me!?”

A voice drifted closer, vague uncertainty blanketing its mumbled words.

Cold metal pressed into her palm as she drove staples into the wooden pole, the flash of a smiling visage crinkled on cheap paper –

“Cam. Hey – Camila!”

She jerked out of the foggy field of remembrance, fingers drifting upwards on reflex to swipe the crumbles of sleeplessness from her drooping eyes. Her cone of vision swung around to behold the frowning face of her coworker, his scrubs tarnished with spilled fluid she had no interest in guessing at.

“Ah… lo siento, Alan. My head was in the clouds. Did you need something?”

“I’m all good, Miss Noceda. Just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.” The young nurse flushed at her distant response, his arms making to fold subconsciously as his discomfort spiked. “Looked like you were about to pass out on the desk for a sec.”

Giving a tired chuckle at the comment, she patted the newest member of her team on his stiff bicep.

“Always so considerate of others. I can see why they’re already looking at moving you up.” Warm amusem*nt chased away the doldrums, if only for a moment, and it made her smile grow to see the flustered man’s blush creep from behind his facemask.

“Just doing my job, ma’am. But, um – if you don’t mind me saying…” An aborted shift towards his sweating nape sent a flash of nostalgia through Camila when she caught it, but the motion went unremarked. “Maybe you should head home a little earlier tonight? We’ve got things covered from here. And…”

She didn’t need to hear his faltering suggestion to know what the junior nurse was implying. Bags beneath her eyes from tireless nights had made their impact perfectly clear on her cheeks, and the need for concealer had slipped her mind in the rush to reach the office on time.

“I’m not so old that I need shorter days just yet.” The stout woman raised her aching body from the plush rolling chair with a grunt, working the kinks from her spine as she gave her colleague a good-natured grin. “But if you’re so insistent on offering – well. Just this once. Don’t need to start on anymore bad habits, after all.”

Alan helped gather her things as she bustled about the small offshoot chamber, ensuring that everything was squared away for the following day’s shift in the wake of her premature departure. Nothing bothered Camila more than an untidy workplace, if it could be helped.

Well – that wasn’t entirely true. She couldn’t much stand for pity from her fellow employees, either, but the nurse knew her young coworker’s heart was in the right place. He’d warmed to her motherly disposition quickly, in spite of any workplace gossip, and was always there to lend a helping hand where needed.

It was always appreciated, especially during this time of year.

The small sedan’s door clicked closed behind her seated form, its dented metal shell popping in the wake of displaced air as Camila gave it a firm slam. Windows creaked noisily downwards, allowing a flow of warm summer evening breeze to gust lazily into the cabin of her old car as the engine gave a gamey growl. Hopefully, the aging girl would give a few good more years before she’d need to find a replacement, but those worries fell far from current concerns.

Riding home with muggy midnight air lashing through the open framework helped clear some of the lingering malaise in her system. Long hours, alongside the heat of a burning midday sun, tended to drive any spare energy from her limbs all too easily. Combined with the creeping thoughts that brushed over Camila’s mind on a quiet, creeping night like this – so horribly familiar to all those years ago – and she had even less patience for lengthy shifts than usual, no matter how she felt about helping others in her field.

Chirping nocturnal insects and fuzzy television documentaries couldn’t chase the quiet from a home like hers.

In no time at all, the worn vehicle rolled to a stop before her cold little home, pale blue light filtering through the glass panes from where she’d left the kitchen fixture on during her absence.

It feels like I’m just racking up the electrical bill when I leave it like this.

Her hand closed around the lukewarm doorknob of her front entrance, its twin fishing around in a sagging pocket absentmindedly.

Would a silly little light even warn someone away from breaking –

Beneath Camila’s clenched fist, the handle gently gave way, leaving her frozen on the porch in sudden, sinking realization.

Stiff fingers pressed inwards, testing the portal for any release – and her pulse spiked as the door fell open to reveal the darkened interior of her home.

In all her years alone in this house, she’d never once forgotten to lock the door before leaving. Call it paranoia, but with just her aging self in the building, it felt all the less secure. There would be no assistance, no second voice raised if someone were to ever take advantage of Camila’s isolation.

For a second, the tired nurse hoped she might have only slipped up, made a silly mistake anyone might have in the correct scenario. That was until she stepped over the steep threshold, her stride light and hesitant – to find scattered clumps of dirt from a booted heel pressed into the carpet.

She hadn’t tracked any mud through the first floor in days. And, from further within, the faint bubbles and clicks of something boiling echoed through the halls.

Fighting for a clear head finally pushed the hovering cloud of unhappy thoughts from her conscious mind as Camila glacially inched the front closet open, her twitching fingers wrapping around the smooth handle of the baseball bat squirrelled away within. In a blink of an eye, one of her worst fears seemed ready to prove itself true – and she didn’t dare let herself hope for the alternative. Not when she needed as sharp a perception as possible, in that moment.

Shuffling forward on the balls of her feet helped deliver some clarity to the sounds emanating from her dining area, the soft shifting of a seated person giving a sigh accompanied by the dying gurgles of freshly brewed coffee. She steeled herself, in the open doorway, preparing for any manner of surprise she found possible – before lunging around the corner, wooden bat half-raised in promised threat.

The first thing Camila felt was a burst of disappointment, that she couldn’t recognize the strange woman before her. A spike of terror flooded her system, however, as the thought fully registered, and the diminutive mother bared her teeth in a frightened grimace at the shocked looking stranger before her.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my house.” Her growl sounded uncharacteristically feral, but there were much greater concerns in the immediate moment as her undesired guest blinked at the heated query.

“I’m just now realizing what this probably looks like. Might’ve been something to consider ahead of time…” The bizarre woman cupped her chin in thought, muttering under her breath as she seemed utterly unfazed by the co*cked bat at Camila’s shoulder. Distantly, the nurse noted that the intruder appeared fresh from either a casino, or a rehab center, based upon the tattered crimson dress and unhealthy pallor to her flesh. What was much more disturbing was the curved golden tooth dropping from the woman’s upper jaw – and the tapered ends of her lengthy ears, peeking from beneath a truly impressive bundle of grey hair.

“I won’t repeat myself again.” A step forward had the criminal backing up out of her seat, some caution finally entering her yellow eyes as her hands came up in a placating gesture. “You have three seconds before I knock you out and call the police. Why are you here?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa – cool it, girl. I’m not here to rob you, or anything.” The accompanying mutter was quiet, almost too much so for Camila to fully catch the individual words. “The kid never said mama was such a fireball…”

Ice flooded her veins at the statement – before a surge of fury, scorching and screaming through her body, brought her towards the intruder with a rising scream.

“What did you say? What did you just say?” Her ‘guest’ bumped into the counter as she retreated, mouth moving soundlessly while the nurse wound her weapon back for a swing. “What do you know about my daughter, tu puta gringa -”

“Mami, no!”

Camila’s racing mind crashed to a halt at the achingly familiar voice, arms jerking to a halt over her head as warm brown hands met her own at the handle.

“Eda es una amiga!”

Soft brown eyes – fearful and hopeful all at once - darted upwards to the pleading voice, meeting their mirror leaning over the frozen woman.

“Mija?”

For a single wrenching heartbeat, she almost didn’t recognize the features peering down at her, the girl’s face cycling through its own rictus of stricken emotions – undoubtedly just like Camila’s. But the nauseating twist of foreign impression passed, and beneath the layers of age and wear, she found her daughter’s face.

Her little girl had sprouted like a weed in the intervening years. Once, Luz had stood level with her mother, a notably unimpressive height at her middle age. Now she almost loomed over the nurse, a good head taller than she’d been half a decade ago. Her hands passed below the dim kitchen illumination, its light racing over countless little scars and burns that met the callouses at her fingertips. A swinging beam revealed the same of her mija’s tender expression, one brow struck through with a clean cut to match her palms – though the twirled stretch of warm, braided locks was a much greater shock than anything else. If the iron grip on her mother’s bat was any indication, she’d certainly shed her unathletic physique, as well.

My sweetheart is all grown up, now.

Splintered wood clattered to the floor as her hands fell open, the girl’s own falling away – only for Camila’s shaking digits to reach up, gingerly running over the soft contours of her baby’s face in the shadows of their quiet house.

She’s grown up and I wasn’t there to see it.

“Mi amor. Oh, my sweet baby girl.” Her voice shuddered with terror and wonder in equal measure. “Is it really you?”

“Si, mami.” Camila would never fail to recognize the dulcet tones of her daughter’s proud voice. “I’m finally home.”

Luz caught her mother as the woman’s knees gave way, pulling them both to the cool tile below as a distant, keening wail reached the mother’s ears. It took a moment for her to realize she was making the sound, a warbling sob dragged from her throat as she finally, finally let the tears of five years apart fall.

“Mija! Mi hermosa cariño!” The bereaved woman buried her face into Luz’s nape, burning tears soaking the girl’s vibrant cloak as she was wracked with grief and joy all at once. “You’re home. You’re home.”

“I am, mom. I’m right here.” Her beloved daughter’s hand rose to cradle her sobbing mother’s head, her own flush of weeping crawling through the girl’s tone. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.”

“No! No.” Camila struggled free of the embrace, missing its warmth before she’d even fought free, catching her mija’s slim fingers with a crushing grip. “It was never your fault, Luz. I – I failed you. I s-should’ve been there. I drove you away, all those years, and I couldn’t even see it!”

The tentative, horribly lost expression that crossed her daughter’s face only drove a greater pit into the woman’s wounded heart when she saw, bared to the world, how Luz had clearly blamed herself for her mother’s own mistakes. She stifled a surge of bawling with the heel of her palm, swiping the hot tracks of salty tears from her cheeks even as Camila snagged her daughter’s shoulders, pulling into a clinging hug once more.

“I’m so sorry - I’m sorry you felt that you c-couldn’t talk to me. I’m s-sorry I couldn’t do more for you.” It was grounding, feeling the living warmth of her lost child in her arms, even as it broke her heart all over again. “I never meant to make you feel u-unloved, Luz. Never that.”

“M-Mami…” Her little girl was just as lost for words as she was, her lean limbs trembling in their shared embrace. Instead, Camila felt as the girl let her control finally slip, and together, they let their emotions pour into the oppressive atmosphere of their shattered home – as mother and daughter.

She didn’t know how long they spent like that, leaning into one another as anchors, kept upright only by their shared weight. But the woman finally felt something immaterial lighten from her shoulders, a pressing crush of doubt and fear and self-hatred, as she held her baby close for the first time in what seemed an eternity.

After what could’ve been hours or even years, their shared sobs slowed to a halt, leaving hiccupping little sniffles and splotchy faces in its wake. Camila untangled from the stranglehold she kept on her daughter, muscles ringing with complaint after being left tensed for so long, before cupping Luz’s hands in her own uncertain grip.

“Please forgive m-me, sweetheart. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to come home safe.” “She hoped that time and distance had helped her child understand what her mother had always desired for her – that maybe, after so long, she could accept Camila’s actions for the love they had held. “It took me too long to realize t-that it wasn’t – not the way… you needed it to be.”

“Mama, I…” Luz gently brought their foreheads together, pressing her wrinkled brow to her parent’s as she whispered gently. Brokenly. “I wish I could’ve been here sooner. I tried. For – for so long. I wish I’d never…”

Seeing the tears threatening to slip from the younger woman’s eyes once more, the nurse broke away, heaving herself off the battered floor as she brought their clasped palms up. Her daughter followed the motion mechanically, expression still so terribly uncertain, as Camila led them both to the open seats at their cracked kitchen table. They sat, side by side, hands still enwrapped in the center of the grainy woodwork as Camila pressed a fierce kiss to Luz’s forehead.

“It doesn’t matter.” Conveying a sense of strength was difficult, when one’s voice was wobbling with unshed cries, but the woman had stayed strong for her little girl over the course of five long, agonizing years. This was nothing. “All I care about, is t-that you’re here now.”

Their arms pressed together as the nurse leaned in, laying her head against the girl’s collar a second time.

“Te quiero. I love you so much, Luz.” A tremor left her fingers flexing under its passage, but Camila held firm. “Please never doubt that.”

“I don’t, mami. I never did.”

If they had stayed like that for the rest of their lives, the nurse didn’t know if she’d have any complaints. But the fragile reunion was interrupted by the intervention of their mysterious third party, the otherworldly stranger surreptitiously swiping a manicured finger under her own eyes as she placed a steaming mug of dark caffeine before each of the dozing Nocedas.

Her alien presence in the house still unnerved Camila somewhat, but clearly Luz recognized the odd woman, if her scrunched look of innocent confusion was anything to go by.

“Figured you two have some chatting to do tonight. Might need to be awake for it.” One claw-like nail tapped against the frothing rim of a chipped porcelain cup, a strained smile accompanying the answer to an unasked question.

“…Thanks, Eda.” The returned whisper was subdued and sandpapered, her daughter’s voice shot through with freshly shed grief as one hand wrapped about the offered drink.

“No problem, kid.” Their guest’s tiny grin gave way to something much less comfortable, the pale woman concealing her unease behind a folded pair of arms and straightened back. “I, uh – think I’ve butted in on this get-together enough for one night. Should… probably be heading back to the boys before they start to worry.” A slim palm passed over her eyes as she gave a low groan. “There’s some things I should discuss with King, too. Don’t need a repeat of… all this.”

“Okay.” Luz’s fingers tapped across the heated mug, clearly troubled by some thought, before her brave little girl soldiered on. “I’d… like some time away from the house. If that’s okay with you.”

“Sure.” Whatever they were agreeing too was clearly not alright, by the older woman’s standard, but Camila didn’t opt to interrupt their exchange as she tracked the back-and-forth silently. “I’ll – see myself out. Get some rest when you can, kiddo.”

The stranger was nearly to the door when her daughter spoke up once more, tone still shaky with complex emotions.

“Hey, Eda?” A heeled boot stopped at the doorway, its owner tilting her head back towards Luz in acknowledgement. “Don’t be a stranger. Okay?”

“…You got it, girly.”

And with that, Camila was alone with her daughter in their shared house for the first occasion in half a decade.

“I guess I… need to explain some things. Don’t I?” Her little girl seemed to crumble a bit at the thought, and she was quick to offer reassurance to the contrary.

“Only if you think you’re ready to talk, mija.” She squeezed their closed palms tightly, basking in the contact. “I’m not going to push. Not right now.”

It was with no small amount of surprise – and pride – that the woman watched Luz visibly prepare herself, squaring her shoulders and taking slow, deep breaths to calm racing nerves. She could so easily recall the days her daughter’s explosive emotions and boundless energy would get the best of her, leaving exhaustion and panic in their wake.

“The real problem isn’t the truth. It’s how… crazy it all is.” The girl admitted, drumming anxious fingers over her cooling cup of unflavored coffee. Sucking in one last desperate gulp of air, her daughter turned to look Camila in the eye, clearly bracing herself for her mother’s reaction.

“The night I – left. I was going to run away from home.” Confidence petered away immediately out of the gate, softening into something wounded and regretful. “I was just so tired of fighting all the time about school. It was… way too much. And I – I don’t know. Wanted you to see how I was really feeling, I guess.”

Unseeing eyes fell from Camila’s lined features, tracing the knots and spirals in their table’s wooden grain under the dim light.

“I got really worked up about it that night. I was hurting so bad. But I…” Luz’s lids squashed shut, expression shuttered with old pains. “I didn’t realize what was going to happen. Neither of us could’ve guessed.”

Bubbling fear rushed to the fore once more, and Camila leaned in closely to examine her tired daughter.

“Luz, what do you…?”

“When I had a panic attack, about leaving -” Frantic words cut across her growing concerns in an avalanche of outpour. “Something changed. I changed. And when I woke up… I wasn’t here anymore.”

She didn’t know how to respond.

“Do you mean the house?”

“On Earth.”

The woman’s head gave a slow shake, something akin to rotting despair creeping up her throat.

“I… I don’t understand, mi amor.”

Was her baby – sick? Something worse than she could’ve ever imagined, or anticipated?

“I know you don’t. I wouldn’t either.”

Gently pulling from her mother’s vice-like grip, Luz stood from her seat, bringing both of her hands to mid-waist. Another voluminous breath filtered through her nostrils and out through the mouth, an almost placid look of peace sliding into place over her closed eyes – and without warning, a rippling sphere of flame jumped to life in one palm; the other was left clutching a jagged eruption of ice that sprouted from nothingness.

“Dios Bueno!” Camila leapt from her seat, torn between lunging for the phone or the sink’s fire extinguisher, when her little girl’s gaze landed on her again with a small, tired smile upon her lips.

“It’s okay, mom. I’m not hurt or anything.”

The unnatural elements faded from her fingertips without a second’s warning, and in their place, a handful of miniature suns floated lazily into the humid atmosphere of the house.

“Magic is real.”

Her disbelieving eyes snapped down from the impossible display, locking with Luz’s deadly-serious features.

“And it’s because of magic that I can travel other places. To other worlds.” Ethereal globes cast her daughter’s expression in an eldritch glow, shadows splaying chaotically across her confident look. “They call people like me… planeswalkers.”

One final sphere fizzed into existence over Luz’s loosely cupped palms, and with great care, the witchlight was deposited into Camila’s unresisting hands to gently bob in place.

This was so far beyond anything she could have imagined. In some way, that was both more and less than the woman could ever have dreamed of.

The sight was mesmerizing. A stroke of her thumb revealed its surface to be rippling with soft warmth, the body of the thing giving way like a globule of jelly as the woman lightly applied pressure. Releasing the otherworldly construct allowed it to ascend skywards, joining its brethren in the shrunken constellation that filled her kitchen with the light of a cheerily burning hearth.

She sat back in her chair heavily, nearly sending its rickety legs skittering across the floor as her full weight dropped upon it.

Not once, in a million years, would the nurse have considered something like this.

“Luz, this… it’s astounding.” She felt her agape jaw pull at the dried tracks of salt upon her cheeks as Camila gave her daughter a look full of both wonder and incomprehension. “But – if you could… move around these places. Then…”

Why did you never come home? Why did you make me wait and fear and hope for you, for so many years?

Why, why, why?

A tightening throat and resurgence of tears overwhelmed her, but thankfully, her sharp-minded girl knew exactly what her poor mother wanted to ask.

“Earth is – different, mami. Same as the Boiling Isles, where Eda is from.” The revelation that she’d played a poor host to an honest-to-God alien would be something she’d have to work through later, it seemed. In the meanwhile, Luz had taken her seat once more, enfolding her distraught parent’s chilled palms in her own warm grip. “There were a lot of protections in place I didn’t – couldn’t have – known about. They ended up slowing things down, for a while. I only got through any of them due to sheer luck, which is how I ended up with Eda.”

“And she… helped you get home?” Camila opted to take each item one at a time, and leave the world-shattering knowledge for another day when her heart wasn’t full to the brim with warring joy and regret at the sight of her returned darling girl.

“Yeah. I’ve been staying with her for a good few weeks, now.” A complicated reel of emotions flickered over Luz’s face, another hint at the stilted goodbye she’d offered to the pale woman just minutes before. “But when I realized that there was something blocking my way home? I never stopped looking, mami. It’s been on my mind every day since I left.”

“Oh, Luz.” If only in that moment, everything felt right with the world when she was able to wrap her daughter in another tight hug. A few solitary remnants of her sorrow dripped down Camila’s cheeks – but that was okay.

They’d finally been given the chance to make things right. To say the things left untouched for far too long.

Everything else would come with time.

~~

“Oh! Uh. Hi there. I… didn’t think you’d be able to reach me here.”

“My influence spans both of our realms, just as my protections conceal them from the greater breadth of worlds.”

“Huh – never thought of it like that, I guess.”

~~

Rolling off the spine-breaking expanse of the living room couch was not the optimal way to begin one’s day, Camila knew. Flanks left stiff and pained by the thinly padded upholstery, scrabbling at the crusty remnants of sleep in the corner of her eye, an absent thought flickered across her mind.

I’ll have to call out from the hospital for a few days. We have a lot of ground to cover…

A glance down at the floor, and the lack of any disheveled bedding across the carpeted boards, made her heart stop in her chest.

It hadn’t all been a horrible, beautiful dream, had it? Camila had fallen into a deep slumber in their foyer, an arm draped low so that loose digits could stay twisted around the slim hands of her beloved baby girl, but she wasn’t –

Snaps of crackling meat and fat slithered out from the tiny kitchen in the bold daylight of late morning, and the woman felt her stricken breath return to her in a gasp – followed by a relieved chuckle.

It had never occurred to her that Luz might’ve matured, since she’d last seen her lost child. Early rising and home maintenance had never been items the girl had held any kind of interest in, the typical blasé faire attitude of a bright and energetic young teenager firmly entrenched. For many years, it had been a static image of the child that had disappeared from their home that she’d retained, but even in those days, it had been a cheap falsehood to cling to in desperate times.

With or without Luz and Camila Noceda, the world would keep on spinning, and time would keep on ticking - a bitter truth she’d had to swallow five summers ago.

Thick slippers muffled footsteps, allowing her to sneak up on the lanky young woman working at their stove, absentmindedly shuffling the popping and spitting blobs of runny eggs with one limb while the other mirrored her mother in chasing exhaustion from her eyes. The nurse believed she’d been quiet enough not to startle her sweetheart, gently leaning into the open-air doorway with half a smile on her lips, but something must have tipped Luz off to her approach regardless.

“Hola, mami.” A yawn ripped through her greeting, the girl’s jaw cracking with a tremendous stretch as it did so. “Disfrutaste durmiendo en el sofá?”

For the first time in what felt all too long a period, Camila’s laugh was carefree and light in the gentle midday sun.

“Not particularly, no. That old thing needed new cushions when you were still a baby, cariño.” Being able to joke with her daughter was something she’d feared they would never experience again. The woman fully intended to take advantage of every opportunity to do so.

Giving a distinctly bemused grunt in response, Luz tilted the sizzling frying pan to the side, depositing a hearty helping of bacon and eggs upon the plates she’d put aside for just such an occasion. Both the meal and girl slid into place at Camila’s side, with her exhausted daughter plopping into the chair with a bit more force than was necessary. She sleepily leaned into her mother’s warm side even as she sloppily poured some orange juice from the squashed carton into a pair of glasses left upon the table in advance, letting out a tired sigh as she dozed on the other woman’s shoulder.

“Gracias, mi amor.” Sipping at the pulpy drink, the elder Noceda gave a slight grimace at the unpleasant texture. “This could definitely use some ice, though.”

Without a word, Luz’s fist snaked out from beneath the wooden fixture, fingers flexing as she did so – and before the nurse’s eyes, a lumpy gathering of ice silently crackled into existence, before being gingerly deposited into the half-filled glass before her.

She’d almost forgotten about that… detail, in the face of everything else that had happened the night before.

“Ah – thank you, hun.” Camila’s expression danced uncertainly at the display of supernatural abilities, ancient tales of witches and black magic briefly rearing their heads from her memories. “…Though I can’t really tell if that was more or less effort than walking five feet to the fridge.”

“Easier than legs. Mana’s kinda cheap.” The older woman didn’t fully understand the statement, regardless of the fact that Luz was still mostly asleep in the crook of her armpit, but that would simply be a question for later. “Crying makes me tired. Wanna go nap.”

“Well, at least some things really don’t ever change, do they.” A small, amused huff left her at her daughter’s comment, in spite of its morbid nature. She was more than happy to make it up to the young girl by squeezing her tightly as they sat together, blearily munching through a late breakfast.

So many ‘firsts’ to be had, now that Luz had returned. Camila was determined to make them count.

~~

“It appears you have found another path to the Human Realm.”

“Yeah, my frie- um. The woman I was staying with, Eda Clawthorne? She has a portal. I was able to get back with that.”

“Edalyn Clawthorne. I have seen that witch come and go many a time. Her name has skimmed the dreams of my scion in recent years.”

~~

Discovering all the ways they had drifted apart over the intervening years was an inevitability the elder Noceda both anticipated and dread in equal measure. To her pleasant shock, however, the first thing she’d truly stumbled upon with her returned daughter were the adjustments she’d made to her daily schedule.

When she’d awoken one blissful early morning following their teary reunion, Camila had made to retrieve her worn workout clothing, halfway through dressing herself for exercise to follow the break of dawn before realizing that she’d have to let Luz know where exactly the woman was going so soon into the day.

The hospital had been kind enough to allow her some time to adjust following aptly-cited ‘family issues’ from a brief call, but the nurse knew that the pull of her calling at the office and in the emergency room would be too strong to ignore at some point. Her daughter had been plenty eager to cleave close to her side, their days mostly filled with quiet, satisfied chatter and evenings spent enjoying the dying nights of summer as she was slowly, but surely, clued in to all the things she’d missed in Luz’s life for so long.

They hadn’t fully returned to the revelations of other worlds and alien abilities just yet, but it hung like a cloud over Camila’s perception. Not something to fear, but – to understand, and eventually accept.

At any rate, the nurse descended from their second floor, jogging sweats in place and ready to wake her daughter shortly so as to let her know about the alteration to her routine they’d skipped in the first few days following her miraculous return. To her mild confusion (and concern), the young woman was most certainly not in bed, nor the remainder of the first floor. Where else could she be…?

Fighting back the instinctive burst of panic at the sight, Camila rushed to the back door, hoping to spot Luz somewhere outside – and came to an abrupt halt as she beheld her little girl lunging across the dewed grass, lengthy staff splitting the foggy air with furious swipes.

Another of her daughter’s alien oddities – she’d shown her mother the weapon one night, excitedly chattering about how the gift was actually still fully alive, able to interact with her magic and react on its own like an actual plant. She’d simply nodded along, not truly comprehending Luz’s pseudo-technical explanation as she watched questing tendrils of vined creepers spool from its end. For all she’d sworn to understand her child and the unnatural things that surrounded her since reappearing, there was still something inherently unnerving about watching an inanimate object search her outstretched palm like a curious hound with its leafy fingers.

Now, Camila watched that very weapon slice apart streamers of mist with determined thrusts and spins. Her daughter’s mock battle brought to mind snippets of martial artists she’d caught over the course of years from television and movies, the same fluid grace of someone intimately familiar with the tool they wielded on screen shared now by her own child. The girl’s face was set in a blank look of concentration, sweat dotting her forehead as she parried a foe only she could see, driving it back with a flurry of swinging blows and kicks.

Luz Noceda had never grown up as a violent girl – their subdued suburban lifestyle and a general aversion to more crude media had ensured as much. As far as her mother had known, she barely even had a combative bone in her body.

And yet – when Camila caught sight of the healed marks of nicks and burns that marred her beautiful baby’s skin, followed the curve of their passage and the narrow slices that dipped in and out of view of her sleeves – she couldn’t help but wonder at what, exactly, her flesh and blood had been forced to do to get by on the surface of distant worlds.

Without fail, Luz’s preternatural skill for spotting her mother’s approach made itself evident as the young woman twirled to a halt, lightly panting as she directed a short wave towards the older woman still sequestered within the air-conditioned household.

“Buenos días, mom!” The heel of her wooden staff planted itself in the dry soil of their untamed backyard, giving her little girl a prop to lean upon as she took a swig from her nearby water bottle. “Didn’t think you’d be getting up this early. Sorry if I spooked you.”

“That’s alright, mija.” If she were honest with herself, it really wasn’t, not to her. But Camila had long since learned that pressing guilt upon her daughter in that manner was more likely to harm than provide guidance. “I see you’ve also been trying to keep in shape. That was some very fancy footwork, there.”

A sheepish laugh barked from the blushing girl, her nervous tick of scratching at her scalp so painfully familiar that she felt a pang somewhere in her chest at the sight.

“Exploring the multiverse needed a lot more muscle than I used to have. No more weak nerd arms for this gal.” Luz flexed her bicep to display the lean frame beneath, a far cry from the skinny little chica she’d once been. “But, wait a sec – have you been working out, yourself?”

The gleefully proud look on the girl’s face brought a small, shy grin to Camila’s face at the sight, even as her gut curled in response to the question.

“I’ve been doing my best to shed some pounds, yes.”

When the loss and apathy had grown so crushing that she’d barely been able to get out of bed, spending days at work in a bland fugue, her coworkers had convinced Camila to try diverting her attention to something else. Anything, really.

She wouldn’t want to see you like this, Cam.

There’s no way she’d be happy to watch you waste away.

Maybe you should give it a shot? Working out. They say it’s pretty good for a busy brain.

Taking chances was nothing new, for a mother with nothing left to lose.

“Would you like to come with me, mija? I like to jog around the neighborhood before the heat gets too bad. It’s great for keeping your heart healthy.” A fraction of hope slipped into her voice with the request, a small twinge at the end of the extended hand to her daughter.

Luz’s glowing smile proved her gamble right, in the end.

“I’d love to, mom.”

~~

“…So, you knew about her portal, and didn’t say anything.”

“Do not take my duplicity to heart. The factors influencing my plans are innumerable. As are the lives that shall be affected by them, for good or ill.”

“…”

~~

After a week or so of learning how to live with her own child for the second time, the chiming of the doorbell took Camila by surprise.

Visitors had never been all too common for the Noceda household. With long evening shifts and few childhood friends, neither of the women ever had much reason for strangers to intrude upon their home.

Thus, it was with some trepidation that she answered the front door, half-expecting to find some salesman or preacher on her porch – only to be left blinking, somewhat stupefied, at the two strange young adults standing there with a pair of hopeful expressions.

“Hello, ma’am!” The boy took point, offering a warm hand to the bemused nurse as an enthusiastic smile crossed his features. “Is this the Noceda household?”

“Ah – yes, it is.” She pumped his offered fist a single time, brows rising at their overflowing excitement at the confirmation. “Is there something I can help you kids with?”

They were collectively saved from what appeared to be a rapidly approaching long-winded explanation by an incredulous exclamation from Luz, somewhere behind her.

“Hold up – Willow? Gus? Is that you guys at the door?”

Camila slid to the side, allowing her wide-eyed daughter to greet the visitors at their door with a bright laugh, before she turned to the older woman at her flank.

“It’s okay, mom.” Stepping onto the creaking boards of their porch, the girl slung her arms about her friend’s shoulders, bringing them in close as she beamed at her shocked mother. “They’re just some of my friends from the Isles!”

Now that she had the opportunity to examine the children before her, Camila supposed that she should’ve guessed as such from first glance. Their style of dress was fanciful, though not particularly outdated by any means; however, the pair had completely forgone attempting to cover their visibly tapered ears with any sort of disguise.

Of course, in this day and age, few people would likely question such an oddity – though that wasn’t exactly the point.

Shaking out of her stupor, the nurse gifted the trio with a tender grin, moving aside to gesture towards the home’s interior.

“Well, go ahead and bring them in. I’d love to meet your new friends.”

Camila was quick to find how Augustus Porter and Willow Park had so endeared themselves to her daughter in short order, their cheery attitudes and outstanding politesse in no way detracting from the obvious sense of awe they felt, examining her home. A whispered comment from Luz pointed out how the witches of their world primarily relied upon their own magics to accomplish most things, but more importantly, the usage of electricity was more of a rarity than anything else. There was no need for clunky strips of wiring and billowing power plants when most of their needs could be satisfied with localized appliances.

It certainly explained Gus’ triumphant exclamation regarding his understanding of the microwave’s physics, at any rate.

Bustling about the kitchen to prepare a modest lunch for her daughter and guests, Camila could almost put aside the nagging, slightly hysterical realization that she was hosting two very normal teenagers from another plane of existence in her very kitchen. She questioned, briefly, if the entirety of her daughter’s tales would ever fully register with her, locked as she was to Earth’s surface. At times, the woman even felt an instinctive, knee-jerk need to reject Luz’s extraordinary claims about the very fabric of reality – but her guests were undeniably inhuman, for all their manners and wide grins. It would have to be an incredibly specific set of circ*mstances to produce a group of people with their attributes and lack of familiarity on Earth without others being aware of their existence.

Plus, it was rather difficult to refute anything involving magic when she’d watched her baby girl use it with her very own eyes.

The rest of their day passed in good spirits, with Camila’s sweetheart more than willing to give her friends a tour of their small homestead, idle chatter and soft laughter following in their wake. She was happy to contribute where necessary, answering Gus and Willow’s questions and comments with a patient pleasure born of empathy. Many years ago, she imagined this was what her grandparents might have felt, moving to the United States in search of more fruitful possibilities. Of course, they probably had a greater comprehension of the technology of their time than Luz’s companions seemed to, but the comparison still held water.

Most of all, she was simply proud of her little girl for finally finding the steadfast friends she’d always been denied as a child, ostracized by her human peers for her entire elementary school career.

That night, they opted to simply order some pizzas to the house, seeing as Luz’s companions were interested in discovering all of the differences between the cuisine of their world and Earth. Gus and Luz excitedly theorized back and forth on where certain similarities could have been sourced from at some point in the past, eventually devolving into a hypothetical debate regarding portals and otherworldly visitors. Meanwhile, the soft-spoken Willow assisted her with maintaining order in the kitchen, the young woman expressing her growing interest in human botany practices and asking Camila plenty of questions about the small pots of herbs she kept on the nearby windowsill.

By the time a message came through on the children’s strange, floating phones asking when they planned to return to their own world, the sun had long since set. The children had barely even noticed, having been chattering on the lumpy couch as they ran through a marathon of films that Luz held close to her heart from her younger years. Being reminded of their obligations elsewhere sobered the party up somewhat, leaving them looking out the front window uncertainly at the deep night they’d have to cross to find their way home.

“D’you think Eda could come pick us up?” Gus muttered, nudging his female companion with an elbow. “I don’t know how we’re gonna figure out a path through the woods with it this dark right now.”

“Eh, I can ask her…” The bespectacled young girl tapped uncertainly at the screen of her phone, giving her surroundings a put-upon look as she did so.

The offer presented itself in a spur of the moment.

“Would you kids like to spend the night here?” The trio looked up at Camila in surprise, Luz’s own eyes gleaming hopefully, as she clapped her palms together. “We have some spare sleeping bags somewhere around the house. It certainly wouldn’t be any trouble if you want to stay a little longer.”

“Woo! Human slumber party!” At least the Porter boy had the right spirit of it, though she wasn’t really certain what defined such an event as being ‘human.’

“Relax, Gus.” The female witch gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes, supposed irritation belayed by the amused smile she wore. “I’ll let Eda know to swing by and pick us up tomorrow.”

“Do you guys need something to sleep in?” The younger Noceda questioned, halfway out of her seat to check the nearest closet. “I’m sure we’ve got some clean pajamas somewhere…”

“Actually, Eda showed me how to store some stuff in a pocket dimension, recently.” Willow pushed herself up out of the flattened divot in their couch, cracking her knuckles as she did so. “I decided to just summon things instead of hiding it in my hair like she does. But let’s see if I can get to it from the Human Realm.”

Their otherworldly guest didn’t cast spells the same way Camila’s daughter did. Instead of a vague flick of her wrist or a snap of intention, the blue-haired witch made a full twirling gesture, crafting an ethereal ring of sparkling energy in midair that collapsed in upon itself – to reveal a heavily packed bag in its place. She caught the translocated object as it fell, tugging open the drawstrings to deposit a bundled lump of cloth into Gus’ arms.

At the woman’s bemused glance, Willow Park gave her a slightly sheepish grin.

“We figured it couldn’t hurt to have some spare clothes and toiletries on the side.”

Camila only chuckled, giving a disbelieving shake of her head as she resumed the effort to leave their kitchen intact.

It wasn’t until the peak of midnight that she was able to pull her daughter aside as Luz stopped by for more snacks, the muffled sounds of a movie occasionally shot through with bursts of conversation and soft laughter.

“Look at you, mija.” Pinching the girl’s cheeks elicited a short mewl of exasperation, making her smile widen slightly. “Making friends and having sleepovers. Your very first, too!”

“Actually, mom…” Luz’s own grin was shy, a little bit of self-satisfaction leaking through as she spoke. “This is my second slumber party.”

This time, when Camila wrapped her beloved daughter into a tight hug, the thought that Luz Noceda had grown up without her didn’t hurt nearly as badly.

~~

“Have you given my offer any further consideration?”

“Do I really need to? I did it – quest over. I found my mom again. I’m home now.”

“Now, who speaks untruthfully?”

~~

“There we go.” Tightly screw-bound boards rattled beneath her victorious slap, jutting from the wall with its glass face ajar for future storage. “A bit more room for your things, Luz.”

Clearing out her child’s bedroom had been a legitimate project for the pair, with much discussion held regarding what was to be retained or ejected. For the most part, Camila had managed to put aside any keepsakes she deemed worthy of holding onto, with most losses consisting of outdated posters and damaged toys that neither of them wanted to keep.

Years of maintaining the empty chamber, with its decorations desperately frozen in time by the care of a distraught woman, made the adjustment all the stranger for both of the Noceda women. But in a way, removing the clutter felt like a step in the right direction – like the shadows of the past had begun to lighten for Camila and her daughter, as they talked and laughed and worked together for a common goal.

Of course, now that there was real estate availability within the cleaned space, Luz immediately sought to fill it with more keepsakes and memories. She’d only given a fond roll of her eyes, before setting forth on establishing a new set of shelves in her daughter’s bedroom.

“Thanks for the help, mami.” The younger girl plopped her worn hiking pack down upon her straightened bedspread, leaving her mother wincing at the aggressive sprawl of wrinkles that sprung from the contact.

“No fue una problema.” A single brow quirked up as Luz reached deeply into the bag, rustling through its hidden contents in search of some particular piece. “Did you have something in mind for what’s going there?”

Her daughter paused the search, momentarily, before returning to digging within the battered satchel.

“Just some of the stuff I’ve picked up over time, is all.”

Camila didn’t respond, eyes narrowing minutely at the dismissive comment as she watched Luz work her way through countless miscellaneous objects in her path. That wasn’t the first time her child had responded with a distracted and evasive answer, since her long-awaited return to the family home. She’d been willing to let it slide, at the beginning, attributing it to standing nervousness or anxiety about letting one’s mother know all of the salacious details regarding a journey beyond her understanding. As the occurrences continued, however, the elder Noceda had only grown increasingly suspicious that there were important details being left out of their conversations.

It was something she’d hoped they had left far behind them.

“Where did… there you are!”

Pulled from her revelry by the satisfied exclamation, Camila blinked at the smooth silver medallion Luz pulled from her travelling bag, its thin chain spooling out of her palm with a gentle clink. Slowly, almost reverently, her daughter undid the upper clasp on the item – and a life-sized hologram of a foreign plant sprung into view, its fronds gently swirling amongst a breeze that didn’t exist.

“It’s gorgeous, mija.” She sat beside her daughter on the covered expanse of her mattress, her bespectacled gaze never leaving the magically generated image before them. “Where did you get something like that?”

“This was actually a gift from Gus.” A short chuckle and fond smile followed the comment, even as Luz swiped her thumb across the image’s roots, causing it to adjust into a new form of flora altogether. “It was his way of saying sorry for a, uh… very awkward conversation.”

Once again, her baby’s grin slipped from her lips, leaving only melancholic silence in its wake – but this time, Camila wasn’t willing to let it get so easily.

“Is there something you want to talk with me about, Luz?” She kept her tone light and conversational, letting only a fraction of the concern slip into her words lest she startle the girl into further solitude. “You said we’d talk about what you were actually up to, when you were – away. But every time we get on the subject… you clam up a little.”

Her daughter didn’t respond right away, gazing down at her beloved jewelry with apprehension, leaving Camila to heave a world-weary sigh even as her palm came to rest upon the younger woman’s knee.

“I promise that whatever it is, sweetheart, it won’t matter to me. All I care about is that you’re as safe and happy as I can help you be. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

“Even if I replaced you?”

The words crawled out like a condemnation, feeling akin to a punch in the sternum as Camila stared at her daughter incredulously.

“’Replaced’ me?” She gave a mildly uncertain laugh, squeezing the tense muscle of her child’s kneecap in what she hoped was a comforting manner. “What do you mean by that?”

Metal links slithered over Luz’s limp hand, sliding taut like a descending anchor as she let the closed necklace hang from a single outstretched finger.

“When I planeswalked for the first time… I didn’t try to come back, right away.” Regret flashed over her little girl’s face, a leaden emotion unfit for such a joyful child. “We were both so angry at each other, and I just – I wanted some space. It… took a little while, I guess, for being ‘far from home’ to sink in. And I met some people on that world that took care of me.” The younger woman’s eyes closed in distant remembrance, tight at their corners with old pains. “They treated me like… like family.”

A kernel of understanding filtered through Camila’s perception, bringing with it some peace in the wake of her returned child’s unnerving question, as half of a sympathetic grin snuck upon her features.

“That wasn’t the last time, either.” Luz stood from the bed, leaving her mother’s side bereft of her warm presence as she crossed the room, inspecting the freshly installed cabinet with her free hand as she remained turned away from the other woman. “The Gruul tribes on Ravnica were like that, too. They always made me feel like I fit in, even if they were pretty rough around the edges.” Augustus Porter’s gift was gently deposited within the glass case, her daughter’s digits hesitantly untwining themselves from its chain. “Same with the Owl House, really.”

She let a relieved huff of air escape her taut lungs, shaking her head as she did so.

“Luz, mi amor, I’d never be upset with you for finding people you love.” Camila spoke softly, encouragingly, as she looked to her daughter’s stiff shoulders. “I’m only glad that somebody was there for you when I couldn’t be.” The older woman turned her head to stare out the window, watching a smattering of narrow clouds dance across the afternoon sky. “Maybe even someday, I would hope to meet them, just so I can thank them for it.”

The bedframe bounced as her beloved daughter fell into place beside her once more, and she glanced back at Luz – only to flinch at the devastated expression on her face, unshed tears twinkling in the dim daylight.

“Mija! What…?”

Her daughter’s clutching hands unfolded, revealing another piece of jewelry from her otherworldly collection, a cleanly flensed rodent skull shot through with harsh lines the color of blood.

“When the Gruul took me in…” Luz’s voice wobbled with the retelling, a single finger running over the macabre piece with bitter nostalgia. “Domri Rade made me this. He was – he was the big brother I never had. He helped me learn about his world and all of the amazing people living on it.” Her questing digits fell limp. “And when it came down to it… I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t help anybody.”

The hand-carved necklace fell to her side upon the covers, discarded in the wake of grief for her sagging backpack, clung to like a lifeline in the dark.

“At least I have something to remember him by, though.” Tears were freely falling down her daughter’s cheeks as she spoke. “I don’t have anything from the Kor – the first people to take me in. It all burned up the same night I lost them.”

“Oh, Luz…” Camila’s arms snaked around her sobbing child’s frame, holding her close as the girl tucked her face into the woman’s collar with growing tremors shaking her lithe body.

“I couldn’t s-save them!” The girl wailed miserably as she clutched her mother tightly, backpack dropping to the cold floor. “I’ve never been able to save a-anybody! Every time I find a f-family, it just – falls a-apart!”

Camila tried to speak, to offer some kind of cold reassurance, but her throat was firmly shut with the horror she felt at the admission her daughter had let loose.

“I was s-so scared to come home. I knew I had to, it’s – I just…” Luz blubbered out, squeezing her mother’s form in search of comfort. “Everyone I l-love always leaves. What if – what if I g-got back and you were gone already?”

An icy fist wrapped around her heart at the words – a memory of dark, lonely nights and even darker thoughts filtering through her mind – as her fingers threaded through the girl’s thick locks to hold her close.

Words had deserted her upon beholding the fierceness of the hurt her poor daughter had kept bottled up inside for so long, and Camila could only hope that somewhere deep in her heart, Luz already knew all of the things she couldn’t say in that moment.

They wouldn’t have wanted you to die for them.

There’s no shame in surviving where others didn’t.

If they loved you as much as I do, mija, then I know that wherever they are now, your family is proud of you.

Just like me.

~~

“I can glimpse the reality of your words with ease. You are the same as all of your kind – and your heart belongs to no singular world. Not anymore.”

“That’s… maybe that was true. Before I lost everybody else. Before Eda lied to me.”

“I do not believe you. In fact, I may even question if your soul was ever firmly bound to the plane of your birth.”

~~

Late, caffeinated nights were nothing groundbreaking for a career nurse. Years had been lost to the foggy blur of ungodly work hours and sudden rushes of emergencies that left the staff winded and helpless. A sudden disruption to a long-term arrangement – fortuitous as the change might have been – did little to quell the natural rhythm her body had settled into decades ago.

Thus, it was with bleary eyes and a demolished pot of pitch-black coffee on her counter that Camila heard the doorbell ring one evening, well after her daughter had retired to her bedroom. Since her breakdown in the previous days, Luz had been somewhat more withdrawn than usual, something her mother hoped would soon pass. In the meanwhile, she maintained her late-night vigil, tackling bills and keeping an ear open for any signs of the nightmares she feared her disturbed child might encounter.

Cracking the front door with a smooth glide, the older woman caught sight of a strikingly familiar red dress, revealing the individual she now recognized as ‘Eda the Owl Lady’ from Luz’s recounting - standing on their porch, an uncertain frown marring her angular features.

“Oh, uh – hey there, mamacita.” The pale woman’s co*cked hip and blank expression might have fooled another into believing she was feeling confident, but Camila had caught sight of her anxiety just below the surface as she’d stepped forward. “I was hoping to have a chat with Luz, if she’s up for it.”

“My daughter’s sleeping right now. We’ve had a long week here.”

“…Ah.” Eda Clawthorne cleared her throat, clearly feeling a tad awkward about her unannounced arrival following the blunt comment. “Well. I guess I’ll… try another day. Or night. Whichever.”

She made to turn on her heel, bare shoulders slumped at the inopportune timing, when Camila blurted out a peace offering into the dark night.

“Why don’t you come in for some coffee?” Her guest spun about, one silver brow peaked upwards, and so the woman clarified before any – misunderstandings could be had about her words. “I mean, you came all this way tonight. And there were some things I’d been hoping to ask you myself.”

The Owl Lady paused on her step, clearly hesitant regarding where the line of conversation may take her, before giving the human woman a half-hearted grin.

“Why not? You’re offering, after all.”

Freshly brewed drink steamed from its position on the worn table, left untouched as it cooled by the duo. Sifting through incomplete documents and lists of charges, Camila crushed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger, blurry text and meaningless numbers squeezed out of alignment by the motion. A good host didn’t invite someone in, only to ignore them for menial work – no matter how late it may have been.

Thankfully, her guest took the first step, lengthy nails tapping an unsettled tempo across the lacquered wood of the table before them.

“You said something about this being a bit of a rough patch the last few days.” The Owl Lady interrupted her own question for a sip of scalding black coffee, plunking the frothing mug back onto the fixture as she gathered her wits. “How’ve things been otherwise? I know the kid was pretty eager to get back here.”

The exhausted woman gave a lackadaisical shrug, pulling a draught of her own portion in the intervening silence.

“We’ve been making up for lost time as best we can.” Camila stared at the minute swirl of her settling drink, watching its spiral with blank curiosity. “There’s so many things I’ve missed in my daughter’s life. She’s always been full of stories, but… this is different.”

“I can imagine.” Her alien guest seemed genuinely sympathetic to their plight – a fact that made the elder Noceda’s buried frustrations surge like bitter bile up the back of her esophagus.

“I would hope so, considering how long you were lying to my baby girl.”

She couldn’t stand to see another grown woman cringe like a beaten pup when scolded for their actions, so Camila stepped to the sink, running water through the caked coffee grounds that stubbornly stuck to the sides of her dulled coffee pot as she channeled her bucking emotions into a brief spurt of labor.

Turning away from her problems never really helped, in the end.

“Guess it’s not just Luz I should be apologizing to, huh.” In any other circ*mstance, hearing someone admit their mistakes with patience and maturity might have satisfied the older woman. But not for something this close to home. “Sorry about – all of that, Miss Noceda. Should’ve known better from the start, but I let my own dumb assumptions do the work for me. Seeing the two of you the other night – I didn’t realize…”

Anger was slipping away with every stroke of the soaked rag over her temporary target, leaving only the dregs of tired, bitter understanding behind. She sighed aggressively, dropping her dented pot into the slick pool of lukewarm sink water.

“…Call me Camila. ‘Miss’ makes me feel like a grandmother.”

“Uh – well. Only if you call me Eda.” Pleasant surprise rang through the willowy witch’s tone, though her amusem*nt remained blunted by the weighty topic of conversation. “At least we can agree that being a ‘missus’ is for the birds. And grannies.”

“Well, I can tell you that I don’t agree with you treating my daughter that way.” Stubbornly dragging the discussion back on-topic, the mother maintained a stern bite to her words as she made her feelings on the matter perfectly clear. “Luz told me about the people she’s lost since leaving home, and how she told you about them, too. She deserves better than to be lied to like a thoughtless child. I know for a fact that your little stunt hurt her.”

Awkward, mortified quiet followed her proclamation, and Camila released another weary gust of breath as she finished drying her hands on a threadbare kitchen towel.

“In a way, though, I can understand why you did what you did.” She gently lowered herself once more into the wobbly wooden chair, a thin line of empathy flooding her tone as she addressed the woman who couldn’t meet her eye. “I know what it’s like to have someone you care for leave so suddenly. It makes the house too quiet. Too empty. So I suppose I can’t be too harsh that you tried to poach my daughter like that.”

She had to give a small giggle at the scandalized look that Eda the Owl Lady shot her, aggravation melting away with her amusem*nt as Camila reigned in her rippling emotions.

“You think I can’t spot another mother from a mile away?” The gobsmacked expression on her guest’s face only deepened, leaving the human woman to fill the void in their conversation she’d inadvertently created. “Luz has always been a lovable sweetheart. It doesn’t surprise me that she found good folks, away from home. Even if they were a little - misguided.”

Her hand found Eda’s slim fingers on the table, softly enclosing the woman’s own limp limb. The brief smile on her lips faded away, replaced with melancholic sincerity.

“And while we’re both a little upset with you… I’ll never be able to thank you enough for bringing mi amor home to me.”

“Seriously?” Conflicted bewilderment choked the pale witch’s response, her posture tense and uncertain. “You’d forgive me, just like that? You barely even know me.”

Feeling the self-recrimination swelling beneath Eda’s disbelieving tone, the nurse stood from the table once more, stepping away to pluck open a knee-high cabinet on the other side of the small kitchen. Old bills fell to the tiled floor as she pawed through the dimly lit drawer, retrieving a stack of creased correspondence from years past.

A twined parcel landed before her guest’s forgotten drink, the lean woman plucking through its contents after an encouraging gesture towards the pile. Her brow furrowed as she perused the yellowing pages, unspoken questions growing behind her intense golden irises.

“When my little girl disappeared…” Camila’s eyes flitted over the stack of cheap paper, fighting back the wave of horror and worry that welled like sticky ink from the thought of years gone by. “I couldn’t stop looking for her. I didn’t rest. I didn’t care about anything else. For three years, every cent I made paid for newspaper ads. Phone calls. Missing persons listings.” The older woman dropped into the chair, feeling the crushing depths of desperation long-past ghost through her once more. “When I ran out of money, it was posters. Going door to door. Watching the news for any sign of where Luz might have been.”

Fingers twitched at the memory of cold steel pressed against them, working meat to the bone as she stapled flyers with her daughter’s face plastered across them over. And over. And over again.

“I never stopped looking. And hoping. But with something like that…” Her unseeing gaze slid across the table, focusing on nothing as she spoke. “You burn out. Things fall out of focus. And somewhere along the line, I thought that maybe – just maybe – if I could be the kind of person that Luz Noceda was proud to call her mother, that she might finally come home.”

Elbows dropped onto the wooden panels, Camila’s eyes sliding shut beneath her sweating palms.

“Volunteering for community service helped. It made me feel like I was finally making a difference for someone, at least. And it didn’t leave me much free time to worry.” Hands dropped away as she sniffled, dark crescents marring her drooping eyelids. “Then I started working out. I got more involved with the town. Anything I could find to keep myself busy.”

Stacked envelopes felt leaden in her grasp, the invisible pounds of baggage attached to their contents dragging towards the ground below.

“Without all the costs from searching for her, I had some savings left over. I started donating them to different charities. Things I thought Luz might’ve cared about, or where it felt like it might do some good.” Rising fingers ticked down the lengthy list as she spoke. “Arts societies. Educational funds. Donations to the poor and homeless.”

She could barely whisper the final words on her own.

“Suicide prevention groups.”

A sharp intake of breath met her admission, the cool touch of unfamiliar fingers twining around her hand helping to steady the elder Noceda.

“Oh, no. Cam.” She didn’t even really mind the nickname, in that moment. “You didn’t think she’d…”

“I didn’t know what to think, Eda.” A single, flat chuckle accompanied the hysterical words. “What do you do when your child falls off the face of the earth? No note. No clues. Nothing… left behind. I could only hope that, wherever she’d gone, Luz could at least be proud of me as her mami.”

The Owl Lady had no answer for her. It was much as she’d expected.

“But that – all of that – is what you did for me.” Camila forced herself to meet the other woman’s eyes, their lids prickling with salty burning. “I don’t have to hope and guess anymore. Because you brought her back to me.”

She’d stayed strong for five long years, waiting for her wayward child to find her path home. Half a decade of hoping, all by herself.

Feeling the pale hand squeezing hers in solidarity as she muffled her cries with the heel of her palm, not wanting to wake her sleeping daughter, Camila felt that perhaps she’d finally earned her right to let some of the tears fall loose – for the both of them.

~~

“Can you truly say you’ve felt accepted anywhere beyond the embrace of your loved ones?”

“No, but that includes my mom here. On Earth.”

“And yet, once upon a time, your ailing soul took you far beyond her reach – to others who might love you as she did.”

~~

Subdued listlessness fell over the Noceda household as mother and daughter processed the last few days of their rough journey as a healing family, the excited energy of their initial reunion humbled in the face of shared pains. Camile made certain that she kept herself treading water for Luz, fighting back the ingrained pit of apathy and anxiety that worried the back of her mind like a yawning maw from the past. Three square meals, and the ever-present offer of a shoulder to cry on, ensured that the woman stayed active and engaged as best she could under the circ*mstances.

Quiet nights together on the couch blurred into a string of grey days beneath passing summer stormfronts, with the exuberance of life slowly filtering back into the wounded homestead. It wasn’t too long before she and her daughter were cracking weak jokes and discussing tales of Luz’s travels once more. She’d truly become an endless well of fanciful encounters or daring adventures, in her absence. The sheer number of fantastical shenanigans her daughter apparently got up to over the course of only a few years both impressed and worried the woman in equal measure.

It was one of said days, as they worked on recovering the momentum they’d originally had, that Camila caught her baby girl contemplatively fingering the end of her expansive braid. The length of thick, chocolate hair seemed to be some cause for consternation, if the pinched expression Luz wore was any indication.

Perhaps she was simply feeling insecure about the change to her appearance, since her mother had last seen her? For as long as the older woman could recall, the girl had loved maintaining her short crop of curly locks. As with so many other items, something must have changed in the intervening years, and it came down to Camila to sniff out its unstated source.

“Have I ever told you how much you look like your abuelita when she was younger?” Luz looked up as her mother patted the top of her scalp, lightly tugging on the twist of deep brown curls in question. “I’d always wondered how it might turn out if you let your hair grow a little. You’re her spitting image, mija.”

The younger girl gave a shy grin in response, her line of sight dropping back down to the palmful of fibers she clutched in her lap.

“I actually started leaving it alone after I planeswalked for the first time.” Her voice was hushed with a tint of fond reverence, twisting the braid back and forth between her fingers. “At first it was just because it was easier than trying to cut it with the crappy scissors the Kor had on hand. But after a while, it sort of felt like… a way to count the days until I could get back home. Like a living reminder, y’know?”

To backslide into another depressive funk was unfortunate, but not unexpected, and Camila braced herself for the outpouring of emotion from her distraught daughter – only to straighten in surprise as Luz set her shoulders, taking a deep breath while a bevy of emotions slipped over her features. After a few long moments, she stood, a determined gleam in her soft brown gaze as she turned to her frozen mother.

“Could you help me trim it down, mami?” She ran a hand through the thick strands, snagging fingers on the twisted segments where the ties held everything together. “It’s been a bit too long since my head had a chance to breathe.”

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” It was certainly a beautiful braid, but if she truly felt it deserved to go…

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Something like peace, or maybe acceptance, settled over her daughter’s expression.

“I think it’s time I mix some things up, again.”

~~

“I know what you’re trying to do! Why are you so determined to make me do this job for you?”

“Because I have glimpsed your heart, tasted your convictions. I know this life alone is not enough for you.”

~~

“And you’re sure this is a good idea?”

“Of course, Luz! This is a skill everyone should have. Just in case.”

“It’s just… I haven’t even been in a car for, like, a full fourth of my life. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Well, that’s why we’re out here today. Even if you don’t have your own transport for a while yet, it’s better to learn sooner rather than later.”

Clutching the steering wheel in a death grip, and staring at the elementary school parking lot with what her mother considered to be undue dread, Luz tapped an uneven beat across the hot black plastic of the directional column.

“I think I’m more scared of wrecking your car than anything else.” The girl admitted, casting a wide glance about to see if any unfortunate pedestrians were within range.

“If you do, then I’ll just use that as an excuse to finally replace this poor old thing.” She gave the hollow metal panel a solid slap, noting the sigh of relief her daughter released before continuing on. “And you might even have the next one paid off by the time you’re thirty if you try.”

“Wuh?”

Camila gave a full-bellied laugh at the flabbergasted look of betrayal shot her way, red shooting over Luz’s cheeks as she did so.

“Hey – mom! Come on, be nice!”

“Lo siento, mi amor.” It was nice, being able to wipe tears of mirth from her cheeks in place of their more bitter siblings. “Now, let’s get started. To start moving, you’ll need to pull on the gearshift here…”

They lapped the deserted lot several times during her instructions, allowing Luz to gain a feel for the complexities and personal quirks of the car she was driving before being released onto the greater roadways. She was no better or worse than Camila had been decades ago, taking her own first steps towards vehicular independence; acceleration was jerky, stops were sudden, and she trusted her own eyes more than the mirrors that had been provided to cover possible blind spots. All the while, her mother retained the same quiet, patient instruction she knew her daughter responded well to as the younger woman was put through her paces behind the wheel.

Several rotations of the schoolgrounds later, she deemed her daughter ready enough to try moving through her first set of narrow suburban roads. A running line of commentary helped reduce Luz’s standing nerves, soft reminders to avoid parked roadside obstacles and remain vigilant of crossing people rising as needed. They slowly cruised beneath the cresting shade of unkempt oaks and maples, their rustling branches splaying wild shadows over the car’s hood as the car darted in and out of the midday sun, windows rolled low to let in the breeze.

Eventually, her child’s anxiety made way for growing confidence, the tight grasp she’d maintained on the wheel loosening minutely as Luz pelted her with various questions regarding driving etiquette. She was glad to impart such knowledge to her baby – for once, it felt as if she truly had a proper hand in raising her own daughter since she’d left the homestead. Mild summer days and pleasant conversation did wonders upon her frayed emotions.

Plus, Camila would have a leg up on teaching Luz how to drive around others respectfully. God knew there were too many rude and idiotic folk on the road at any given moment.

Warm, early-autumn orange was filtering through the canopy above by the time she deemed their lessons nearly concluded, with a comment about taking Luz out sometime soon after to continue their lessons. In spite of her worries earlier that day, her daughter only smiled and nodded, seeming more at ease with the idea after having the opportunity to practice under her own power.

“This is actually pretty fun.” The younger Noceda confessed, pulling her eyes away from the road for a split second. “Though I probably need some sunglasses next time. I can’t see too well with this crappy evening lighting – gak.”

It was a good thing Camila had kept one hand on the emergency brake their entire trip, because having her daughter choke on a passing cloud of summer gnats was not exactly how she had envisioned their day going. Regardless, the car screeched to a stop in the center of the blacktop, leaving the younger woman free to hack up the offending insect in question, giving the scattered swarm an aggravated look as she swiped her hand over her tongue in disgust.

“Are you alright, sweetheart? You gave me quite the scare there.”

“I’m – ugh. I’m good. Just grossed out.” Her dark glare likely could have set the miniscule bugs aflame, had she put her mind to it. As it was, Camila felt a ripple flow across the surface of her mind as Luz’s fist flexed, a spiral of red and green light playing over her knuckles. “Let’s see how the flies like some of my homemade ‘bug repellant’…”

The panicked nurse snagged her daughter’s wrist as she made to slap the side of their aging automobile, intangible power coursing across her palm, as Camila gave a nervous chuckle.

“Whoa there, mija! Maybe don’t, ah, be using spells on the car like that. I’m not quite sure how much life she has left in her.”

“Aw, it should be fine.” Luz reached above her head, grabbing the plastic handle on the rim of the sedan’s ceiling. “I’ve seen way touchier artifacts stand up to rough magic before. Lemme just give the hood a solid love tap, and -”

Weakened polymer snapped free from its mooring just as the girl’s other hand tugged on the door’s release, sending her shocked daughter sprawling out onto the warm concrete below with a yelp. Camila could only stare over the lip of the vehicles flooring, desperately attempting to restrain her amused giggles at the expression of offended defeat that found its home on Luz’s features.

“…On second thought, let’s just put the windows up.”

~~

“And if it isn’t? I’ve still got people relying on me. My mom needs me, and I need her.”

“Just as your other companions do, on the Isles and beyond?”

~~

By the third time an unannounced visitor had appeared on her doorstep, Camila had been certain to be ready ahead of time. The entire first and second floors had been cleaned well in advance, a joint effort between the Noceda women that left every aspect of their small home practically shining under the fluorescent lights. Food was more regularly stocked; the bathroom and its toiletries were properly established – the only thing left to arrive was whoever came to see Luz on the next occasion.

Despite these preparations, the older woman was still not fully prepared for the appearance of her incoming guest.

Having to do another round of introductions had not been on her radar – the names of the last three strangers to come knocking were on the tip of Camila’s tongue when she came face to face with a stiff-looking young woman, her immaculate white cloak fashionably accompanied by cold golden eyes and a mint green curtain of tamed locks.

In the distance, a low rumble of thunder shook the darkened sky like bellowing cattle.

“Hello, Miss Noceda. My name is Amity Blight, of Emperor Belos’ personal coven.” The girl’s ramrod posture never wavered as one gloved hand swung smoothly forward, catching the human woman’s own in a firm handshake to match her declaration. “I was hoping to speak with your daughter regarding some – personal matters, if she is available. I don’t expect it to take very long.”

“…A pleasure to meet you, Señorita Blight.” Was the militaristic look and posture an attempt at intimidation? If so, Camila mostly found it somewhat off-putting, though the same could be said of the pale witch’s little speech. It almost felt as if she were attempting to hide behind her own words. “I’ll go grab her right now -”

“Hey there, Amity!”

“Never mind, she seems to be one step ahead of me.” She spun on her heel to allow Luz access to the front porch, her grinning daughter popping into view as she met the discomfited stranger at the door.

Something in the girl’s façade slipped as she beheld Camila’s energetic young daughter, a blink of surprise and slight drop of her jaw following Luz’s appearance at her side.

“Hello, Luz. You, uh – wow. You cut off most of your braid.” One hand subconsciously reached upwards, touching a bundled strand of verdant locks as Amity Blight gave her companion a roaming, wide-eyed examination.

“I sure did. What d’you think?” Luz’s own palm proudly ran over the shortened sprouts of dark brown hair upon her scalp, giving the other girl a winning grin as she made contact with them. “I used to rock this look back when I was a kid. It felt like it was time to give it another try!”

“It looks great! Really.” Amity Blight’s wandering fingers tucked a loose strand of her own hair behind one knife-like ear – and beyond sight of the conversing teenagers, Camila’s eyebrows shot skywards at the shy gesture. “I just never thought to imagine you with shorter hair. But it fits you.”

“Glad to hear you think so.” Her daughter stepped to the side, mimicking the older woman’s pose as she gestured inwards. “So, how come you swung by for a visit? Not that I’m complaining about seeing a friend, that is.”

Camila had already schooled her expression back into one of polite interest, but mentally, she side-eyed her beaming child with a growing kernel of suspicion at the statement.

Oh really, mija? Just a friend, you say.

Amity Blight, however, seemed oblivious to the nurse’s thoughts, instead falling back on a tense stance as her attention returned to the older woman.

“Oh, I just – had a few questions for you. I didn’t mean to impose on your hospitality, ma’am.”

Inwardly, she frowned at the statement, testing its contents with her internal monologue as she beheld the strange woman’s anxious – almost fearful – deference to the owner of the house. Luz didn’t seem to fully register the oddities in Blight’s shifting reactions, but Camila held a lifetime of parsing out signs of neglect and abuse for the patients under her care.

And the tense wait for a biting reprimand or sharp condemnation was plainly written in Amity’s blank expression.

Forcing her most welcoming smile possible, she dropped the volume of her voice just a smidge, reaching for the warm croon that often helped put fidgeting children at ease as she gave the girl a small nod.

“It’s no problem at all, Miss Blight. And besides…” Camila glanced through the adjacent window pane, her gaze flicking towards the heaving swirl of thunderheads far above. “I’d feel bad making you walk all the way home when it’s about to start raining. So long as Eda is fine waiting for you, anyway.”

Amity Blight traced the older woman’s line of sight, concern visibly etching itself on her face as she caught sight of the approaching storm, its clouds heavy with the promise of rain.

“Well, the Owl Lady did say she’d still be there tonight.” Torn between her obvious discomfort at intruding upon their homestead and the frightened twitch she gave as a peal of thunder cracked closely overhead, the young witch darted across the threshold before her nerves could get the better of her. They all froze in the doorway, awkward uncertainty dancing in the air, before Luz broke the tension with a gleeful clap of her hands.

“Hold on a second, did I ever…? Wow, no. I never told you how rain works on Earth, huh?” Camila’s daughter snagged her hesitant companion by the hand, pulling her towards the backdoor as she spoke with growing anticipation. “Oh man, you’re going to love this. Trust me.”

The mother couldn’t tell what was flustering their guest more – being led without explanation to the backyard where the storm she clearly feared was approaching, or the fact that she was holding hands with the human girl. She followed in their wake, fighting the urge to let out a laugh at the red tinge to Amity Blight’s cheeks, giving the two of them a knowing look they couldn’t see.

Cumulus clouds piled overhead, wind whipping across the yard below their lumbering passage as the first drops of chilled water began to freefall in a light skittering over the shingled roof.

“I don’t understand.” The pale witch’s blush had faded upon hearing rain splatter across the house, eyeballing their ceiling with notable confusion. “How do you protect anything from the storm without magic?”

“That’s the secret – humans don’t have to.” Thin glass panels smoothly glided across their track as Luz peeled the rear door ajar, giving Amity a passing glance that hinted at her warm grin. “I mean, we do have to waterproof stuff so we don’t get leaks. But besides that…”

Her daughter stepped onto the exposed boards of the backstep just as a burst of rainfall pelted the back of their property, eliciting a gasp of fright from her friend as the panicking girl made an aborted lunge towards the open door.

“Luz!”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Camila’s confident little girl swung her arms wide, presenting her unharmed self like a flamboyant orchestral director as she turned to the pair in the doorway. “This is what I was talking about. Rain in the Human Realm is cold!”

Despite the clear evidence before her, their otherworldly guest still seemed uncertain of making bare contact with the descending water to any degree – until the soaked human girl returned to the awning, gently taking Amity’s wrist in her grip.

“I promise it won’t hurt. Just give it a try.” Once more, she directed her nervous companion forward, tugging the trimmed glove from the witch’s hand and exposing her pale digits to the elements beyond.

They sat upon the soggy wood paneling, side by side, as Luz glacially inched their shared palms out from beneath the edge of the roof’s expanse. Camila saw the moment their visitor felt soothing droplets hit her skin for the first time – a short flinch of her muscles, followed by awed relaxation as the sensation fully registered with the girl.

“Wow…” Her reverent tone gusted out, face tilted skywards to the crashing storm above. “I never would have imagined something like this.”

“It’s kinda beautiful, when you think about it.” Her daughter seemed awfully pleased with herself, gazing dreamily to the heavens as she spoke – which meant she missed the heavy gaze that landed on her, Amity Blight staring at the short-haired girl with an expression Camila knew all too well from her younger years.

“Yeah. It is, isn’t it.”

Luz gently chattered on, listing off the various facts she could recall off the top of her head regarding earthly weather systems. Her friend, however, had no eyes for the sky – looking only to the enraptured girl at her side as their shoulders pressed together, hanging on every word spoken.

Camila left them to it with a soft grin smuggled beneath her palm, returning to the kitchen so that they might have some privacy.

Eventually, the pair retired indoors after some time, talking and joking with one another as they dripped cool water across the sleek tiles, headed for the bathroom to towel off. She meant to offer them both fresh clothes so that they would avoid catching a chill from their damp clothes, but her daughter was one step ahead of Camila, snugly wrapping both herself and Amity beneath a duo of separate blankets on the couch. A flex of her fingers left the cloth rippling with comforting heat, drying their clothes with ease as she explained how the spell was intended for chilly nights around a campfire. After some cajoling, she provided the same spell for her mother – and the trio spent the rest of their day relaxing in the living room, listening to the storm above as Luz channel surfed for her favorite movies to show her uninformed friend.

Amity Blight did not end up staying the entire evening, opting to head for the darkened forest after a brief dinner and citing an interest in not upsetting the generous Owl Lady, who had allowed her to visit that day.

“Eda asked that I let you know, and I quote, ‘That the boys and I miss you a lot and hope you’re doing well.’”

“Thanks for passing it on, Amity.” Her little girl sighed, sinking beneath the comfortable expanse of her blankets as she responded. “I’ll have to figure something out for them, I guess. I shouldn’t just leave them hanging in the wind for too long.”

“…You are planning to come back to the Isles at some point, right?” The Blight girl’s voice seemed uncomfortably small, in that moment, though Camila was reasonably certain she already had a good idea of just why the pale witch was put off by the possibility of not seeing Luz again.

“Of course! Just gotta – put some stuff together before I do, is all.” Her daughter shucked off the billowing square of cloth, wrapping her arms around Amity who stiffened in shock at the intimate contact. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Sure. See you soon.” Loosening up just enough to return the hug, she shot a wary look towards Camila’s seated form, who only gave the girl a sly grin at the sight. It was enough to cause Amity Blight some consternation, the young girl breaking their embrace apart to give an exaggerated cough before standing stiffly straight before her. “Thank you for allowing me to stay, Miss Noceda. You have a lovely home.”

“It was no problem, Amity.” Standing from the couch, she took their waning party to the front door, opening it for the witch as she did so. “Feel free to visit any time.”

“Get home safe, Amity!” Luz called from the open threshold to the retreating back of her friend. “Maybe next time I can see your house or something!”

Settling into her sagging bed that night, alone in the shadows of her personal chambers, Camila tried not to let the implication of her daughter’s offhanded words fill the bottom of her gut with a familiar twist of dread.

~~

“You’ve seen the horrors of the multiverse. You know that my words hold truth.”

“…”

“You are not one to allow others to suffer – I have witnessed such, myself.”

~~

“…And this one, I actually did the first day I landed on the Boiling Isles. I came out on the Titan’s knee, so I had a great view of the whole thing. It’s – kinda hard to describe that kind of view, but I did my best.”

“You’ve become a fantastic artist over the years, mija.” Her thumb stroked the stenciled image with a soft reverence, tracing the simplistic copy of a distant world with the passage of her limb. “I still have some of your old drawings from when you loved your crayons.” A teasing gleam entered the woman’s eye as she glanced up at her daughter. “Would you like to compare the old to the new?”

“Ugh, no. Please.” The mortified younger woman dragged a despondent hand across her sagging expression. “Little-Luz may have liked sketching everything under the sun, but I’m a bit more discerning these days. And I’d like to think I have a better eye for detail, too.”

“You just don’t want to sit through me gushing over your baby scribbles, do you?” Camila chuckled at the groan of disgust she received in turn, placing the roughly bound sketchbook beside her emptied dinner plate. “Still. It’s hard to really… comprehend all of this. Even with everything you’ve shown me. Different planets, different people – maybe the strangest part is humans on other worlds.”

“Yeah, that’s something I’d definitely like to figure out at some point. No clue how that happened.” Luz gave a carefree shrug in accompaniment, taking a moment to polish off the dregs of her drink with a lengthy gulp. “But the multiverse is full of mysteries. That’s just one more for the pile, really.”

Her mother paused for a moment, feeling their conversation reaching a lull that promised melancholic regret if left to stew, before pulling away from the table to reach for one of the upper cabinets.

“Now that we’ve finished supper, why don’t we have some desert?”

“Ooh, I’m always up for that!” The excited girl bounced in her seat slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of Camila’s offerings beyond her head and shoulders. “What did you grab?”

“Well…”

It was a good thing she’d left the necessary tools in their hidden pockets ahead of time, otherwise the display would have been notably less impressive. With an inspired burst of showmanship, one of her hands snagged the extended lighter, flicking her wrist over the candles even as she withdrew the hidden treat with her other palm.

“I realized the other day, that we had some birthdays to make up for – so I got you a cake.”

The modest pastry slid into place before her wide-eyed child, silky chocolate icing drawn upwards in sweet little peaks of sugar across the body of their desert. Luz gave a laugh of delight, gifting her beloved mother with a warm grin.

“You didn’t have to do this for me! I would’ve been happy waiting for my next actual birthday to make up for it.”

She didn’t say, in that moment, the thoughts that had gathered at the back of her mind over the course of the prior week. Camila didn’t mention the way Luz sighed when she spoke of beautiful planes and distant friends. Or how when she thought her mother wasn’t looking, a troubled expression settled over her features, and she gazed silently – longingly – towards the deep forest she’d arrived from. Not even how her backpack was always beside her bedroom door, stocked and ready to escape at a second’s notice.

Instead, the older woman laughed and grinned and joked with her beloved little girl as they carved the cake into even portions, setting aside slices for the following nights – and she swore to hold onto every memory made with love in her heart.

~~

“…These monsters you told me about. They’re really… as bad as you say.”

“Worse. Once, they ruled a star spanning empire, slaughtered untold billions, all for petty revenge against a single world. Their hate was unrivalled – indescribable.”

~~

Somewhere slightly beyond a month or so of time spent gloriously shared between mother and daughter, Camila could feel Luz’s departure hovering over them like a far-off bank of rumbling storm heads.

The biggest giveaway was Luz’s inability to look her parent in the eye when they spoke of plans for the future. Nothing concrete, simply – considerations. Getting a general education degree, going on to college, that sort of thing. And perhaps, had she not caught the longing glances her child was constantly sneaking out the window in the interim hours of every day, she might have chalked it up to the girl’s normal attitude towards most things educational in nature.

And so, the evening her little sweetheart approached the table after dinner, nervously palming the back of her scalp with a sweating hand, Camila cut through her stammered attempts at beginning the end of their time together.

“You’re planning on leaving home again. On… leaving Earth. I know, mi cariño.”

“It’s just – I – oh. You knew I was going to say that?”

Was it really so odd to believe that she could be observant – that she’d become more attentive to details, in years of silence and loneliness – when Camila wanted to?

“Mhm. To be honest, I thought you might bring it up sooner.” She circled the knots in their table with a finger, fighting back the bitter well of melancholy in the rear of her throat as she spoke. “Even if you’d never left in the first place, Luz, I knew I’d never keep you here forever. You’ve always been too much of a free spirit to stay ground-bound for so long. School, work, marriage – something was going to pull you away from home.” The older woman cupped her chin with a hand, mumbling around clenched fingers. “I just never would have guessed it was something like this.”

“…I’m sorry.” Her daughter dropped into a kneel, gently clasping her mother’s limp hand as she looked beseechingly towards her only parent. “It sounds stupid, and dramatic, but – I have to do this. It’s not just seeing my friends again.” Her shoulders set with determination, the same defensive confidence seeping into her tone as Luz sought to defend her actions before her mother. “I’m not… some fantastic hero, or adventurer. But there’s a lot at stake with all of this. And if I’m the only person who can do it… the only one who even knows there’s a problem, somewhere… then I need to try.”

Camila reached up, stroking the back of her calloused knuckles across her baby’s cheek as she directed a tender, loving look towards her brave little daughter.

“You’re the best kind of hero there is, mi amor. The one that always tries to help others, no matter what.”

“I’m not very good at it.” The mutter slithered out, shame-faced and self-deprecating, but she chased the sorrow from her child’s face with a firm kiss upon her brow.

“It doesn’t matter. Sometimes, trying your best is all you can do. And that’s okay.”

They met in a tight embrace upon the unyielding flooring, a twisted mirror to the night Luz had been returned to her, but this time it was declarations of her love that she imparted unto her offspring – in place of the outpouring of terrified regret they’d both once experienced.

~~

“You have witnessed the might of ancient evils more than once before. Can you truly stand aside, knowing that another enemy threatens those you hold dear?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

~~

The house was quiet once again, its sole inhabitant sat beneath harsh industrial lighting in the dim interior of her battered kitchen.

Was it dramatic to say that Luz had taken the life from beneath her wings, as easily as it had been returned? Even with how small their home had always been, it was much too large for a single person. Once, there might have been dreams of a happy trio living beneath its eaves, but… that hope had long since passed. And from that moment onwards, it had always been the abode of Camila and Luz Noceda. Two women against the world in their own little suburban hideaway.

It wasn’t entirely accurate to say that she felt directionless, in the wake of her daughter’s second departure. While she might have been filled with righteous, desperate strength once upon a time, the retiring of such burning feelings still felt right, in its own way. A relic of the past given up in the face of progress, of healing together.

And yet, the scars still tugged at Camila’s heart in the dark silence of the creaking house.

Pale light fled from the refrigerator’s interior as she swung its door open, staring at the bottom drawer with bleary, unfocused sight. Slowly, almost painfully, she pulled the compartment open and tugged a bottle of beer free from the build-up of ice in its lowest reaches. The brown glass freely sweated in the muggy interior atmosphere, its curve twinkling enticingly beneath overhead lamps.

Luz hadn’t commented on the presence of alcohol in their house, even though Camila was certain she’d noticed. Catching sight of the girl’s uncertain look at the base of their fridge, her expression looking lost and piteous in the afternoon sunlight as she caught a glimpse of one of her mother’s only taboos in the house.

Before losing her daughter – before losing herself to despair wrapped in dreary hope – she’d forsworn any substance of the sort. No booze, no drugs, nothing of the like, that was Camila Noceda’s rule. And she’d foolishly left the sign of her own faltering weakness out for her daughter to see, for Luz to understand just how badly she’d been shaken by the girl’s disappearance.

They’d passed over the moment with some forced cheeriness, redirecting the stalled conversation to some inane topic she couldn’t quite recall. But Camila couldn’t forget the look of regret, of a hint at the self-recrimination Luz was feeling at the sight, even as the refrigerator door swung shut.

A moment’s deliberation was all she needed before the bottle slipped from her grasp, tumbling back into its tempting compartment to rest untouched. The older woman spun away from the humming appliance as it was sealed once more, a bit of determined heat lending itself to her step as she made to retire for the evening.

She stopped, however, at the small shrine by the foot of the second-floor stairs, her eyes skating across the memorial to a child she’d once feared lost forever. Luz’s crazed toddler grin stared back at the exhausted woman, her own younger reflection laughing without a care in the background of the framed image.

Slowly, carefully, the elder Noceda unwrapped the dangling cross from its resting place upon the chipped wooden frame, feeling the cool gold slide across her fingers as easily as the day she’d purchased it. Her thumb found its old resting place at the crux of the crucifix, gently pressing into the metal’s bite as Camila tromped up the stairs for the night.

Her evening prayers shifted in target – no longer asking for the strength to carry on, herself, but strength for her daughter. A tiny bundle of hope and love burning in her gut, begging for a beloved god to lend her beautiful, independent, tough-as-nails child enough strength to make it home so that she might continue righting the wrongs of her past… together.

Healing and loving, as a family should.

Chapter 21

Chapter Text

As Luz might have expected, her return to the Owl House was met with notable fanfare from the demonic duo inhabiting its halls. She’d certainly missed their exuberant presence in her household, the waspish dynamic between two immature creatures bringing to mind what she would have guessed siblings to act like in most cases. What she hadn’t anticipated, however – caught amidst their excitement at the mage’s appearance in the home once more – was how things would have developed in her absence.

“Hang on a sec…” A single finger flicked the discolored tip of King’s horn, noting the marred zigzag of pearl about its width while she spoke. “Did you grow this back while I was gone? I could’ve sworn you had a chunk taken out of this one, before.”

The Owl Lady stepped into view, her small grin giving way for an embarrassed grimace as she responded before the diminutive demon could speak for himself.

“When you headed back to the Human Realm, I figured now was as good a time as any to clean some other skeletons out of the ol’ broom closet.” Eda’s head tilted to indicate the repaired stub of bone sprouting from King’s exposed skull. “There’s a limit on how much in the way of waterworks I can take in a single month, so…”

“Yeah, things were – a little ugly for a while.” An unusually abashed King of Demons stepped back from the planeswalker’s warm embrace, fiddling with the healed wound with a clutching paw. “It turns out I’m not exactly king of, uh, anything. I was pretty upset with Eda about lying to me, too.”

Luz glanced at the discomfited witch, her raised brow conveying a noteworthy amount of both exasperation and bemusem*nt, before her small friend continued forging through his explanation.

“But – we talked it out after our big adventure. Like respectable adults.” His miniature hands balled into fists at his waist, chest puffed out with pride at their accomplishment in conveying emotional discussion as functioning individuals. “And while we were out, we found the piece of my horn that was missing!”

“Aw, you should’ve seen us, Luz!” Hooty swooned dreamily, encircling the young mage in a tightly snaking hug as the house demon crooned. “I even got to come along for once! We found a spooky hidden island, and fought some crazy mud monster in a giant temple where King came from – it was awesome!”

“Wait, how did you manage that?” The hand not bound against her torso patted her companion on his lengthy form, gesturing towards the point at which he was anchored to the front door. “I thought, y’know, being stuck to the house was kinda permanent.”

The other half of the Owl House’s entourage flinched at the question, frantically indicating for Luz to stop asking questions, and quickly.

“Oh no, he’s gonna do it again -”

“Kid, listen, that’s not a great idea…”

Hooty’s crow of glee battered down their halfhearted attempts to subdue his enthusiasm.

“Lemme show you!”

Traveling the width and breadth of the multiverse had exposed the young human mage to plenty of twisted things, but if she were honest with herself, watching the house demon disengage from Eda’s place of residence was almost certainly one of the most disturbing. After the older woman was kind enough to supply a potion to tamper down the rippling nausea filling her gut, Luz sat heavily upon the couch, feeling her gorge rise in spite of the suppressive alchemy.

“Okay, well, now that we’re past – all of that.” She gave the cushion a hearty slap, a somewhat nervous smile gracing her lips as she looked anywhere but Hooty’s disembodied form, seated in its admittedly adorable carrier. “Why don’t you guys tell me more about this crazy island trip you had? I’ve got a few stories to share about my time back on Earth, too, but uh… they’re probably not nearly as exciting.”

Her friends were more than happy to oblige her request, especially in light of the house demon’s horrific display. King and Eda took turns explaining the context behind their mysterious adventure across the Boiling Sea, and how it had led to a swampy isle far from civilization. The back-furred demon enjoyed embellishing his portions of the tale with great swings of his arms and dramatic proclamations, often requiring the pale witch’s dryly snide remarks to bring him back down to reality. Every so often, Hooty would butt in with an excited comment, draping himself across Eda’s unoccupied shoulder as her other arm supported Owlbert’s small, slumbering body.

In exchange, Luz informed them about her return to the Human Realm, and by extension, the reunion with her mother. With time and distance, the heartbreak of darker moments she recalled for them stung less in their recounting, but the ache remained nonetheless. Their collective encouragement and relief at the mage’s success in connecting with Camila Noceda once more bolstered her sapped feelings, however, a warmth filling her chest at the loving support they shared in spite of how her path had split from theirs for a period of time.

For a short while, it almost felt as if Luz had never left, and that the peaceable dynamic they’d shared in the Owl House had never been disrupted. The afternoon came and went with easy jokes and swapped stories, helping to soothe the lingering consternation she’d left the homestead with in the wake of Eda’s duplicity.

Unfortunately, as was so often the case, nothing good could ever truly last – and she had returned to the Boiling Isles with a mission in mind.

“So, I don’t want to freak you guys out, but… I can’t stay for long.” A deep, bracing breath filled her lungs, before slipping out in an anxious gust. “I decided I’m going to do the job the Titan wanted my help with.”

Eda the Owl Lady didn’t look particularly surprised, giving her a patient look of fondness – only to be shoved aside by Hooty, who wailed hysterically at the statement.

“Why does everyone I care for always abandon me!?”

“Hooty, you know King and I aren’t going anywhere.”

The response did little to calm the frantic house demon, who retreated back to his post with a final shout of despair. King looked on with a vague expression of mingled confusion and disgust, before turning back to Luz with a saddened glint in his large, expressive eyes.

“Guess you coming back to stay was too good to be true, huh?”

She wrangled him into another tight embrace, despite his feeble protesting, patting the warm expanse of his skullcap with a comforting hand.

“It won’t be forever, buddy. I promise. But… this is something I need to do.”

“I wouldn’t have any problem ferrying you back and forth to the Human Realm when you wanted, girly.” The pale witch held a glimmer of understanding in her golden irises as she gazed towards the squirming pair across the coffee table. “But it’s not just about the inconvenience with the back and forth, is it?”

“Well… I think the Titan’s right.” The uncomfortable mage twitched beneath the Owl Lady’s scrutiny, her own eyes darting away with a guilty flick while words poured forth in her defense. “If there’s a serious chance that there’s monsters somewhere out there that pose a real threat to people I care about, and nobody else can do anything about it, then – I guess it comes down to me.”

“That’s not all, though. You said the Titan offered you a free pass to come back here, and to the Human Realm, without a bunch of hullabaloo.” Eda’s head tilted to the side, her tone of confident factuality ringing through the musty air. “It’s about being able to come and go as you please. Right? The independence - to move around when you want.”

Luz didn’t speak, refusing to confirm or deny the other woman’s statement, but her companion only let out a world-weary sigh as she crossed the room, laying her open palms upon the girl’s slim shoulders.

“I don’t blame you, Luz. You think I’d be able to give up my portal real easily?” Understanding and sympathy flooded the pale witch’s voice. “Believe me, I get it. And if this is what you gotta do to be your own woman, I get that, too.”

“…Thanks, Eda.”

“No problem.” The Owl Lady stepped back with a smile, crossing the living room to the front door even as a gesture sent Owlbert’s uninhabited staff arcing across the chamber into her waiting grasp. “Ready to go when you are, kid. Back to the Emperor’s dumpy little palace, right?”

“Yeah.” She gave King one last parting half-hug, whispering a promise to return with souvenirs as the mage stood, meeting her former host at the front door. Hooty was busy rooting through some other portion of the house, indistinct and displeased grumbling echoing from the second floor, leaving them free to step onto the porch without delay. Eda, however, snagged the strap of her sagging backpack, tugging it loose as the mage came to a stop and gave her a questioning glance.

“Before you magic your way off this rock, you mind stopping by real quick one more time?” The witch slid the travel bag from Luz’s grasp, hefting its jostling weight in one hand as she did so. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve to help you out while you’re tripping over every old trap from here to… wherever you’re going.”

“Sure, Eda.” She scuffed one dirty boot against the concrete pad, feeling a bit of undesired shame well up at the offering of peace from the pale witch. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Really. And it’s not like I hate you for not… telling me the truth before. It’s just…”

“Don’t gotta justify yourself with me, girly.” A taloned hand ruffled her shortened locks, warmth dripping from the Owl Lady’s low words like sweet honey. “I’m not trying to guilt you into not being pissed at me. I just wanna see you come back safe.”

Luz only smiled at the sincere admission, capturing Eda’s slim frame in a brief hug before they mounted Owlbert’s carved pole side by side, soaring into the scorching midday air towards the Emperor’s personal domain.

Considering the open aerial approach of a known criminal that cut such a distinctive figure, Luz’s arrival at the foot of the Emperor’s castle was fairly uneventful. No flaring spellfire or arcing arrows raced up to meet her and Eda as they spiraled low through the clouds, landing at the opposite end of the lowered drawbridge. If it weren’t for the pair of Emperor’s Coven guards monitoring the descent with wary caution, the embattlements could very well have been empty of all life.

She didn’t say anything, but the mage felt more than saw her older companion tense at the striking silhouette of Emperor Belos’ seat of power. Owlbert’s staff remained low and ready for any sudden assaults as the pale witch pivoted on her heel, facing the planeswalker with clear apprehension.

“Welp, here’s your stop.” A furtive glance at the unoccupied sentry posts was spared for a moment, before sliding back to Luz’s position. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Don’t worry about me, Eda.” Her fingers ghosted over the concerned woman’s arm as she stepped forward, slowly making her way to the pair of standing scouts as they shared parting words. “I’ll come back to the house to properly say goodbye as soon as I’m done here.”

The flap of Owlbert’s extended wings were all she heard as the human mage faced away from the retreating witch, doing her best to crush any remaining apprehension from her posture during the short walk to the forward portcullis. Distantly, snippets of conversations and jokes on the internet flooded back to her mind, a whisper of a message about fake confidence and its ability to grant you passage to places otherwise blocked to intruders.

Thus, it was with head held high that Luz stopped before the silent guardsmen, clearing her throat and flicking her palm out with a fanciful twist to accompany her words.

“I’m here to speak with the Emperor about a quest. It’s urgent.”

Bubbling enchantment tickled the sensitive flesh of her lower arms as the Titan’s unseen brand sprung to life, stitching out an arcane glyph upon her open hand as ancient magics noticed her arrival at the castle. Confusion shown through their stiff posture, with one of the sentries stepping away to have a rapid, muttered conversation into a small handheld communications mirror pulled from his pocket. After several moments of deliberation with whatever superior he had gotten ahold of, the scout waved his partner down, gesturing for the planeswalker to pass within.

“Deputy Commander Blight will be waiting for you inside, miss. Please stay in the foyer until her arrival.”

Giving the witch a grateful nod, she strode between the duo, coming to a halt in the same entry chamber she’d passed through on the first visit to Belos’ fortress. Luz amused herself with inspecting the various bannerets she’d previously spotted, fighting down the burgeoning nerves working their way through her gut as she stood alone in the grand hall.

Thankfully, it did not take long for Amity to locate her.

“It’s good to see you again, Luz.” The green-haired witch dismounted a hidden staircase with a small, welcoming smile, drawing the mage’s own grin back into the daylight as they met in the center of the hall. “The front guards said you needed an escort to Emperor Belos – something about a symbol on your hand?”

“Hey there, Amity.” Her arm spun about, revealing the softly pulsing marker adorning the meat of her palm for the other girl. “Last time I was here, I got this little mark as a free pass to chat in the future. So – here I am.”

“Ah, I understand.” Taking the lead with a come-hither gesture, Amity strode boldly forward, pulling the pair of them into the castle’s depths even while curiosity rang through her polite questions. “Did the Emperor do that for you?”

“Eh… no. It probably sounds pretty crazy, but this is from the Titan.” Hopefully, her newest friend wouldn’t think she was losing her mind with statements such as that, but regardless of Amity’s opinion on the situation, the facts remained the same.

Oddly enough, however, the answer seemed to invigorate her companion, who spared the mage a much more brilliant smile following her words.

“I see.”

Luz’s brow ticked down at the unexpected response, a probing question prepared to escape her lips – only to be interrupted as they came to a steep doorstep in the staircase they’d travelled, with Amity leaping the threshold and offering her hand to the human girl.

Feeling the warmth of slim fingers wrapped around her own as Luz was hauled over the stoop, the planeswalker’s query lost all momentum as her mind flashed back to the day they had shared in the chilled rains of Earth, the ghostly sensaiton of their clasped hands rushing to the fore. She wasn’t certain exactly what feeling it was that left her chest feeling odd with the remembrance, but the unanticipated oddity was just enough to interrupt her train of thought and allow Amity to regain control of the pause in their conversation.

“I hope your mom is doing well, back in the Human Realm. I know how important it was to you that you found her again.” She seemed hesitant to drop their combined grip, but a moment later the pale girl’s hand fell away from Luz’s, leaving her limb feeling bizarrely cold in its wake. “Were you at least able to part on better terms when you came back to the Isles?”

“Um. Yeah, she – had a feeling I was gonna leave before I could tell her. So, it wasn’t much of a shock.” Pushing the strange thoughts from her conscience, Luz shook her head, homing back in on their continuing small-talk. “I mean, she wasn’t happy about it. But there was a lot less crying than the day I came home, so. There’s that.”

“Fair enough.” Some of the stiffness Amity had carried that one wonderful day in the Noceda household had returned, casting a somber tint to her otherwise clear cheer. “If you get the opportunity, can you thank your mother again for allowing me to stay? I certainly appreciate her hospitality.”

She had to give a small, almost disbelieving huff of laughter at the repetitious request, an unseen shake of her head following the low chuckle.

“Amity, you don’t need to keep thanking her just because you dropped in on us without a warning. It wasn’t a big issue, really. Mom loved having you over.”

“Really?” A sliver of hopeful desire entered the question, before being quashed by the shutter of flat monotone as the next sentence followed hesitantly. Almost fearfully. “…My mother would never stand for uninvited guests. People who show up like that tend to stay on her bad side, unless they’re particularly lucrative business partners.”

Luz didn’t have a proper response for such a weighty comment, opting instead to simply not offend the pale witch with a fumbling follow-up. A moment of silence passed between them before Amity sucked in a deep breath, some of her previous excitement returning to her features as they passed through the unknowable depths of the labyrinthine castle.

“Well. Enough of that for now. We have a meeting to get to.”

“‘We,’ huh?” She grinned lightly at the odd wording, some of their easygoing banter returned with a slight tint of teasing. “So, you aren’t just escorting me to the big boss today?”

“Ah – that is to say, I will be there. Yes. This is a meeting between yourself and Emperor Belos. But…” Stumbling over her words, the witch verbally righted herself, gaze flicking towards the richly carpeted floor as she gave a tiny, abashed grin. “I don’t know. It feels as if I should be there.”

The mage’s elbow gently tapped Amity’s ribs, drawing her line of sight back to the other girl.

“And here I thought you were all about being logical and practical, Miss Blight. When did you lose that attitude?”

A snort of wry amusem*nt escaped the shorter woman’s lips, before her professional countenance slid back into place.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. And I don’t have any desire to look crazy to the rest of the coven, let alone my… only real friend.”

Feeling the conversation tugging back towards the darker thoughts they’d only just wrestled free of, Luz puffed out her chest with false bravado, striking a smug strut as she stepped into line with Amity’s stride.

“Pfft, please! I see wacky stuff all the time. Just try me!”

Another low chuckle trailed her bold announcement, but the pale girl didn’t immediately respond. A beat of contemplation went by, before she spoke again in a slow, pondering murmur that was almost lost amid the plush coverings and banners they passed.

“Do you ever feel like you were meant for something else? Something… bigger?”

“Ah, well. Sometimes, I guess?” Her exaggerated swagger deflated, giving way for genuine consideration of Amity’s quiet wondering. “Being a planeswalker is kind of like that. We’re relatively rare, and when you get around like I do, it’s a lot easier to see some of the huge, scary stuff that can threaten whole worlds. I mean, what are the odds that I would get an opportunity like that, y’know?”

“Yes. I think I do.” Thick gloves came up to rest in the crooks of her arms, a self-conscious motion that belayed the worried gnawing of her lower lip as the coven deputy clearly debated whether or not she could trust the earnest girl at her side.

It was with clear hesitancy that Amity finally admitted the nagging thoughts that had dogged her heels since Luz’s arrival.

“When I visited you, at your house, I… actually came to ask you about something. But in all the – excitement, it slipped my mind.”

That was fair – they’d both spent the day enjoying the fortuitous circ*mstances of the witch’s timing, and there had been little time set aside for any meaningful discussion.

“Have you ever had dreams? That felt like they were more than just some… pointless nightmare?”

Anticipation gave way for caution, worming its way through Luz’s soul as she glanced to her guide warily.

“Maybe. Was it about… anything in particular?”

“Here, on the Boiling Isles. And – the Titan itself.”

“…Yeah.”

The answer was more than a little distracted, her mind racing at the implication of Amity’s query. Had the Titan been contacting her friend, with Luz previously out of the picture for the foreseeable future? But – why? She’d held almost nightly conversations with the strange, godly cadaver, its incessant efforts to have the mage attend to its desired task finally wearing her faltering arguments down over the course of weeks. There had been no reason for it to seek anyone else out to possibly take her place, and yet…

“What else did you see, in those dreams?”

Phyl the lich had indicated that the stronger one’s connection to the Isles’ mana base, the more clearly they could interact with the deceased giant beneath their feet. However, if memory served correctly, Amity had only just begun to make progress with the two colors she’d discovered an affinity for.

“They -” An aggravated sigh burst forth from the coven witch, head tilted in recollection as she fought to put otherworldly messages into discernible communication. “They were never really clear. Not until the last few. I’d be walking through a bony stretch of swamp, or an open field, and I’d see – monsters. In the distance.” She shuddered with the memory, one hand lowering to rest at the hilt of her sheathed blade, searching for a semblance of comfort. “Weird, oozing metal things that would always be fighting something I couldn’t make out. But it seemed like some kind of battle. And then…”

“Then what?”

“Everything would start dying.” The statement fell with finality, landing like lodestones at their feet. “The marsh would dry up, or the plain would turn black and all the plants would fade away. It seemed like a fairly clean-cut message, to me.”

Some of the grim confidence fled her tone as Amity glanced at Luz, softening as the witch continued her explanation.

“But the last few weren’t anything like that. Instead – you were there.”

The mage made an intrigued grunt, mulling over how the description of her friend’s dreams sounded both bizarrely flattering and unnerving, all in one confusing knot of emotion.

“Until recently, I could never catch up with you. It sounded like you were talking to somebody else, but – the fog always slowed me down.” Concealed fingers ticked against the coiled metal grip of the cold sword in a fit of nerves. “And then, something changed. Every night you were getting closer – and just before I woke up this morning, I found you. You were walking through the doors to the Emperor’s inner sanctum, and – someone was calling my name. So I followed you in.”

“Well, that – certainly clears things up a bit. I think.” Reining in her fluctuating thoughts and feelings, Luz turned the new information over in her mind for a few moments longer. “Are you sure that this, uh, is a good idea? I mean – monsters, you know? That doesn’t sound very fun.”

Creatures that fit the bill for the alien visions she’d been gifted, in her last conversation with the shifty Titan’s spirit? She wasn’t quite certain what that interaction implied, but her instincts twinged with a faint sense of warning.

“If this really does mean something – if there’s really a greater calling for me out there, then – I can’t ignore it.” Amity’s steely words brokered no argument as they drew ever closer to Belos’ lair. “I know I’m only one witch. But I won’t just lie down and let something threaten people under my care if there’s something I can do about it. I’m a member of the Emperor’s Coven, and I plan to make that count for something.”

“…I can respect that.” The unknowing echoing of her own conflicted thoughts distracted Luz long enough for her growing counterpoints to slip – and in what seemed no time at all, they stood side by side before the heart of the fortress for the second occasion.

Amity didn’t ensure that her human companion was ready, unlike before – only steady confidence filled her ramrod posture as the witch pushed open the massive panel with a burst of force, gesturing for Luz to take the lead within.

Similarly, there was little in the way of fanfare or mind games on display by the enigmatic ruler of the Boiling Isles. Emperor Belos simply lounged with a bored angle to his masked skull, resting in an open palm, as icy eyes bored into the pair of young women from across the voluminous throne room.

“And so, the human has deigned to grace us with her presence once more.”

Lethargic apathy dripped from his voice, the words at odds with his intense stare that burrowed into Luz’s exposed soul like a ravenous predator.

“I have to wonder, what has drawn you back into my domain?”

Amity had dropped into a steep kneel before her reigning lord, but the mage forwent any pleasantries, her hackles raised at the dismissive tone directed her way.

“Well, I’m assuming the gate guards had to check with you to let me in, since I showed up with a weird symbol as a pass to get inside, so...” The glowing mark flashed into Belos’ line of sight, drawing his voracious gaze away for a moment’s span before frosty blue irises returned to his guest’s expression.

“Please excuse Miss Noceda’s improper etiquette, my lord.” The witch at her side lunged ahead, giving Luz a warning glance before returning to a bow of supplication as she addressed the unimpressed Emperor before them. “It is my understanding that her time with the Owl Lady has done little for her regard of the law, much less any manners.”

Belos let loose a huff of dry amusem*nt at that, leaning forward to eye his dutiful servant with a keen look of curiosity.

“I suppose I shall simply have to endure her boorish attitude, then. What a shame that is.” An avian tilt to his golden visage gave Luz the uncanny feeling that the Emperor’s neck teetered on the edge of an unhealthy snap. “If I recall correctly, Deputy Commander, your duties as an escort for the human have been completed.”

Amity stood at the address, moving to answer the implicit question before her master could fully frame the thought with words.

“Forgive my intrusion, Emperor Belos but… it is my belief that I am needed here. With her.” A finger snaked up to tug at the restrictive cut of her collar, allowing the girl to give a nervous gulp. “If I understand what I’ve been shown, then the Titan desires my presence at Luz’s side. For the moment.”

The masked witch’s pupils were unnerving, though fully mammalian – however, the way they slit at his underling’s words could only be described as dangerously reptilian.

“I see.” Icy disdain filtered through the tense air of the yawning throne chamber, accompanied by his slumped posture as Belos fell back into the expansive seat he sat mounted upon. “Well then, who am I to disrupt our Master’s plan? We are but humble servants before the Titan’s will, after all.”

Faint traces of bitter sarcasm underlined the statement, leaving Luz wondering about how at-odds the ruler of the Isles seemed with his deific confidant - any questions, however, fled her mind as the robed witch slipped from his seat of power, smoothly coming to stand beneath the thundering heart that dominated the chamber.

“Go on, then. You do not want to keep it waiting.”

A tap of his rapidly summoned staff sent a grinding ripple through the immaculate stonework, crafting a flight of rough concrete stairs that arced over his extravagant chair, ascending to meet the base of the Titan’s core. Amity murmured gracious thanks to her dispassionate ruler, but the human mage was already moving, taking the rocky risers with a cautious pace while the green-haired witch raced to catch up.

They met at the peak, a haze of heavy magics warping the corners of Luz’s vision as the man-sized organ trembled with unnatural echoes of life. A magnetic force drew her limp hands from her sides, seeking the burning expanse of dense muscle while ancient enchantments wisped through the smoky atmosphere of Belos’ sanctum. At the edges of her sight, she saw Amity trapped in a similar trance, helplessly drawn in by the sheer power of the Titan’s wasted form.

Their hands met rotten flesh simultaneously, and without delay, the planeswalker felt her mind swiftly succumbing to the familiar grasp of the god’s dream realm.

Foggy lowlands and swirling gatherings of looming clouds set to a dreary backdrop of cracked bones were no strange sight to Luz, after so many visitations by the cryptic Titan.

However, having company for the journey was certainly a new experience.

“What is this place?” Amity’s hushed whisper flitted into the heaving humidity, almost swallowed by the dense thicket of hovering mists that threatened the poor trickle of light into the clearing. “My dreams before – they didn’t look like this.”

“Trust me, enough interruptions while you’re trying to get some shut-eye and this place will get real old, real fast.”

The particular patch of ethereal space they occupied seemed somewhat different from the mage’s usual meeting point with the Titan – less unformed land mass, and more emphasis on boggy terrain mixed with a flooded meadow. Did that have something to do with Amity’s prior visions, how they aligned with the colors of mana the witch had access to?

“You know, Luz, you’re certainly entitled to your secrets.” Her wary companion circled the crouching planeswalker, her head on a constant swivel as she took in the expanse of cloudy dreamscape the duo shared. “But now would be a great time to elaborate on what, exactly, the Titan has been showing you for… how long, now?”

“There is no need.”

Seas of dreary grey split into fading streamers, cascading up and away to reveal the skeletal grin of a prehistoric skull, nigh incomprehensible in its scale. Amity fell back with an awed oath, leaving Luz to face the corpse grin of the Titan head-on.

“Luz Noceda – I see you have returned to our world.”

“Here I am.” She indicated her cloaked form, expression crunched between something exhausted and determined as she stared down the decaying deity. “I came back to take your quest.”

“And so, you have.”

She didn’t appreciate that their host sounded so firmly pleased with the decision Luz had been all but coerced into. Tremendous flaming pupils, sunken deeply into the pits of its fleshless skull, arced between the human mage and her astonished friend at her side.

“It is time that you understand the full scope of the foe I seek knowledge from.”

Loamy soil lurched with abominable life beneath the girl’s feet ,sending them stumbling back as metallic claws and horrid screeching pierced the mystical peace of the dreamscape. A low swear in her mother’s tongue escaped unbidden at the sight, with Amity and Luz standing back-to-back in opposition to the crowd before them.

The unseeing creatures held no symmetry or true similarities between each individual, only the wretched marks of their own metallic warping giving any sign of a shared origin. Running the gamut from humanoid to savage, frothing hounds, the cyborganic beings stumped away with glazed eyes, only a facsimile of monsters long vanquished. They oozed and dripped with poorly contained viscera, weeping slick black fluids from their pores and orifices even as the horde limped into the distance, their illusory target some unknown destination beyond the mage’s reach.

She held out a hand as one revenant passed, brushing calloused digits over the glistening flesh of the alien construct. The thing gave no response, baying lowly as if cattle driven before the slaughter, leaving a greasy film of pitch staining Luz’s extended fingers.

Was it disgust, horror, or pity that struck the girl most in that moment? She couldn’t say – most likely, it was some mingled concentration of the three.

“This is the fate of the beings known by all as… the Phyrexians.”

Even the Titan seemed repulsed by the images it had summoned for their viewing, a thread of contempt winding its way between each echoing word that spilled into the vast world before the pair.

“Unnatural artifice bound to flesh, shot through with disease and rot. A sickness so foul it can rip into the very soul, warping their victims into slavering sycophants.”

In the wake of the creature’s passage, rusting artifice ripped through the churned grave dirt, spokes of jagged wheels and crests of shattered diodes filling the heavy fog with ghastly haunts of wars long past.

“The Phyrexian war machine once consumed an endless tide of worlds, all bent towards the destruction of a single plane: the lands and seas of Dominaria.”

The distant planet’s name fell with the weight of momentous history, slipping through with a reverent sigh.

“It is where I was created. And it is where I – and my creator – were both felled.”

Stumbling phantasms faded away, leaving Luz and Amity alone in the battered clearing, pinned beneath the gaze of a god.

“Their homeworld must be explored – I was unable to confirm its destruction at my master’s hand, before being rendered… incapable. And beyond the twisted reach of Old Phyrexia, a new kernel of plagued madness swells, a blight upon my senses. The threat of both must be ascertained.”

It felt as if the weight of the very world she stood upon was crushing Luz, crumbling over her stiff shoulders as the Titan’s distracted gaze returned to her.

“Will you accept this task for me, Luz Noceda?”

Every remaining ounce of common sense was frantically prickling at her nerves, trying to convince the young, vulnerable mage not to make a mistake she would not be able to rescind. But, against her own inner wishes…

“I will.”

“Good.”

A faint sense of lips peeling away in a pleased grin engulfed the clearing, despite the fact that any such organ had long since disintegrated. With the burning question finally answered by his captive audience, the unfathomable intellect of the fallen giant swapped its attention to the pale girl at her side, leaving the witch looking as if she couldn’t choose between terror or worship.

“Now – Amity Blight.”

“Y-Yes, sir? I mean – my lord. I, uh…” The spooked coven deputy made an aborted attempt to bow, her expression struck through with crippling indecision, before a low chuckle like rustling fields gently caressed their ears.

“I am not a lord, little witch. There is no need to bow.”

“Are you sure -? Ah. Well. Of course, you are. My apologies.”

For as amusing as Amity Blight’s flustered state was, it occurred to Luz that it might have been appropriate to give her friend greater forewarning before the current discussion. As it was, she had no idea how to provide support for someone who was, effectively, coming face-to-face with the deity that was responsible for their very existence.

She promised herself not to tease the other girl too badly about it in the future.

“I have observed your actions upon the Boiling Isles, once you established your connection to the mana of our lands.”

A surprising quantity of warmth infused the Titan’s tone, thankfully helping to reduce Amity’s ongoing anxiety as the massive cadaver spoke down to them.

“Your character – and your cunning – have both left their impression upon me. I have yet to find you wanting on the path you have taken thus far.”

“That – thank you! I-I don’t know if I can express how much that means to me.” Her tense companion stood even straighter, her gloved palms coming to rest at the small of her back even while they grasp one another with vice-like pressure. “And may I say, it is an honor to visit your realm. It is quite impressive.”

Another deep rumble of chuckling sounded through the thrumming atmosphere, before cutting off as if it never were.

“Amity Blight – Deputy Commander of the Emperor’s Coven. Young witch and aspiring mage.”

Grave pronouncement fell over the Titan’s fanciful speech.

“You have borne witness to the horrors of Phyrexia’s strength over the course of the last month. And now, you have seen firsthand the scars it leaves in its wake, even amongst the very slaves it is fueled by.”

Sweat dotted the deputy’s scalp, glimmering in the faded illumination of a false afternoon.

“What say you, to these revelations I have given you?”

Taking the prompt for what it was, Amity stepped beside Luz, her regal posture melting into cool confidence even as hammered pride crept through her lilting words.

“If it meant protecting the Emperor’s lands, I would meet them head-on. My duty is to serve my lord, and the citizens within our care. Even if -” Her throat bobbed with swallowed nerves. “Even if it were something as terrible as that.”

“Good. That is very good to hear.”

Something about the dip in the Titan’s words, the way they almost descended into a cajoling purr by the being’s standards, set Luz’s finely-honed senses on edge. She hazarded a glance to the girl at her side, but the witch seemed outwardly unaffected by the change in tone.

“Would you be willing to go beyond the call of your duty, given the chance? To serve your people in a capacity that passes the means given to you by my chosen apostle, Belos?”

“Without a doubt.” There were stars in Amity’s eyes, a half-formed grin tugging minutely at her lips as she preened at the words. By her metric, the recognition for her efforts had finally been given by something more powerful than she’d ever imagined existing, within the boundaries of her world or beyond.

And that fact had Luz’s fists clenching at her side, snaking suspicion rippling through her sternum.

“You would do anything to serve those under your care, as a guardian to them.”

It was stated as fact, and the answering call was given as firmly.

“Yes.”

“Even if it necessitated you strike first? To aid in delivering the unseen blow upon their carefully laid plans?”

The girl’s answer came more slowly to the second question, but with no less conviction.

“Of course.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

She pivoted on her heel as the fabric of unreality quaked around them, a monstrous lurching silhouette approaching the frozen girls where they stood, soaring through smog and fog with ease.

“Your world needs you, Amity Blight. You and your human companion both. It is imperative this mission is successful.”

Trance-like, the law witch stepped forward dreamily, her eyes set upon the glowing embers of a dying god even while its gigantic, skinless palm rose through the mists with digits extended. They didn’t seem to share the same squalling thrill of danger at the motion, because while Luz was left scrambling away – reaching for the fizzle of magics that refused to heed her call – Amity only tilted her head back and watched a singular, skeletal finger the size of a skyscraper descend from the heavens.

“It is heartening to know that my creations are willing to place their faith in my forgotten spirit, even after such a gulf of ages.”

“Amity? Amity, something’s not right – Amity!”

The mage tried to lunge forward, to have her words reached the dazed deputy before her, but the presence of the Titan’s soul weighed too greatly over them. A thick blanket of foreign influence coated the dream realm, smothering her desperate words while pliant soil gave way below her tread. In seconds, Luz was up to her waist in frothing cemetery mulch, reaching fruitlessly for the miniscule figure of her friend beneath the Titan’s curling grasp.

“I can only hope that you might one day understand how the course of fate has come to shape my actions.”

Finally, the grave cadence seemed to snap Amity Blight from her malaise, but it was too late.

Luz was left choking on a mouthful of putrid soil, desperately trying to croak out her companion’s name as she sank into the hungering fabric of the Titan’s dreamscape – only just able to catch sight of Amity’s eyes shooting wide, meeting the gentle press of the skeletal finger upon her furrowed brow –

“N-No! Leave her alone!”

The return to the waking world was jarring, more than it had ever been before. She rolled across chilled cobblestone, coughing and scrabbling at the phantom sensation of thick mud clogging her mouth. Heart racing, sweating with exertion, Luz’s head shot up to take in the silent tread of the white-robed wraith by her kneeling self.

“So very dramatic, aren’t we?”

Turning over onto her other side, Luz directed a furious, desperate glare up at the impassive mask of the Emperor, practically snarling at the towering witch.

“Not when your boss is attacking my friend, no!”

“I very much doubt that is the case, human.” Scorn dribbled from his low speech, the tilt of his hammered covering giving away the lingering curiosity in his pose.

Ignoring the apathetic man, the mage scrambled over the freshly flattened floor to stop at Amity’s side, hands fluttering uselessly over the girl’s sweating, unconscious body. There was little she could do but check her thready pulse and shake the law witch’s slack shoulders – mind magic was far from her specialty. Worse than that was the fact that she would be competing against a being more akin to an alien god than anything else, and she didn’t need a lick of clairvoyance to understand how well she would fair in such a fight.

“C’mon Amity, you’ve got to wake. Up.” Frantically rattling the other woman’s limp form did little but leave her panic spiking – before, with growing despair, her eyes landed on the frenetic pump and thud of the bloated green heart above them all.

“Tu maldito mentiroso…” Thrusting her will forth beyond the pockmarked cover of the Titan’s omnipotent reach, Luz ripped at the distant strings of other worlds, feeling the crescendo of burning flames lick through her veins as she took aim at the thundering organ. “Let her go now!”

A spear of cinders had barely brushed the fingers of her co*cked arm when a cool length of metal kissed her throat, the pale curve of a winged blade resting at her collar with foul promise.

“I wouldn’t suggest anything so rash, little girl.” Anger spiked Belos’ hiss at the threat to his abominable liege, glowing eyes boring through Luz’s own defiant gaze.

Slowly, almost painfully, she let her hand drop away and the magic fizzle out – the other coming to rub at her nicked flesh as the flanged wing of the Emperor’s staff parted from her body.

Before the mage could bite out a scathing retort, Amity’s still silhouette jerked with a sudden twitch, pulling her ire away from the glowering ruler of the Isles at her side. The deputy commander was muttering in her restless slumber, a barely audible stream of inconsistent babble leaving her parted lips even as she sweat through whatever was being done to her.

“Amity?”

Luz’s fingers curled about the other girl’s flexing palm, and she gave the unmoved form of Belos a plaintive glance.

“Isn’t she part of your coven? Do you really not care she might be in trouble right now?”

“The Titan does not act without reason, human. And there is no point in ending the life of my servants without warning.”

In spite of his harsh retort, Belos finally kneeled at the downed witch’s side, a hesitant mailed fist moving to cradle Amity’s jerking head. He only moved to repeat the same basic motions Luz had already taken, one gloved finger checking the unsteady passage of blood through the girl’s veins, leaving his undesired guest to snort with derision.

“I already checked to make sure she’s breathing. We’ve gotta wake her up, somehow.”

The pale girl’s expression pinched, a short gasp interrupting her companion’s heated statement, discomfited twitching only growing more frantic.

“Oh? And what would you suggest?” His lackadaisical responses were really beginning to grind against Luz’s patience. “The Titan holds her in its grasp. I’m not certain if you understand -”

In a moment, the world shifted sickeningly around them, time and space bending in ways it was never meant to fold.

Suffocating miasma suffused the air invisibly, pulsing through atoms and the void between them, the Titan’s will physically palpable as it plucked at something within Amity Blight – and the last view of the girl Luz caught was her blank, terrified gaze before a displaced clap of air threw herself and the crouching Emperor away from the young witch.

A brilliant flare of light followed the unnatural implosion, searing itself into the mage’s shut eyelids, before fizzing without further ado. Her field of view faded back in following the harsh wash of illumination, only to reveal that Amity had disappeared with barely another whisper.

Brief, agitated growling met her ears in the ringing silence, cut short by their creator as Belos lurched back to a stand.

“Perhaps there was merit to your words, after all.”

Luz didn’t respond, crawling forward to meet the fading patch of warmed stonework left in her friend’s wake, searching desperately for any sign of what fate had befallen the girl. Nothing but departed body heat remained to mark Amity Blight’s passage in the dim light of the throne room, and she felt her horror spike in the cloying quiet.

Mana leapt at her emotional outreach, the three shades of primal magic she’d harnessed thundering through the snapped barrier of the Titan’s existence and gifting Luz a huntress’ view of the rippling aetheric tides. Reality itself was still compromised by the giant’s influence, leaving a warped tinge of non-Euclidean twisting at the borders of her enhanced sight. Sharp shadows and grim lines within the darkened corners of the room jumped into vision, unknowable traces of spellwork darting in and out of sight. Even she and Belos appeared beneath the magic’s effect, a humming wash of various mana colorations oozing in and out like tidal waves.

Where Amity Blight had once laid, wispy tendrils of forged mana connections swirling about, mindlessly lost without their host in place as before. Pearly streamers left an impression of dogged service and determination at the back of her throat, sticking to Luz’s senses like a chemical wash; whereas black tendrils of curling power left only hungry ambition and undercurrents of frustration behind.

It was the magical footprint of a girl the mage had been eager to learn more of, a slurry of half-formed thoughts and feelings left pressed into the aethersphere of the Boiling Isles by subconscious intent – but there was another thread of wills and instincts beneath its surface that dumped ice-water directly into Luz’s veins.

At first, she didn’t understand what was in front of her. The young mage had never attempted anything similar to the spell overlaying her line of sight, picking apart the minutiae of the castle’s enchantments and aetheric currents. And so, when she found the thread of paracausal energy lancing into the sky – trailing sparks and flickering fragments like falling snow – the cascade of inhuman interactions took her by surprise.

“No. That - it couldn’t be.”

It felt like gravel beneath her boots and high winds caressing her face; the kiss of distant suns and countless, alien scents on the gusting breeze. The tattered spell was the anticipation of leaving home for boundless adventure and the relief of returning to a comforting level of normalcy.

It was something Luz had become intimately familiar with for more than half a decade.

And with sudden, crashing realization –

“Dios mio. When we visited Phyl the lich, he…”

- The words she’d dismissed as crass, offhanded commentary flooded to the fore of her mind.

“I suppose that like truly attracts like….”

“He knew all along.”

Another beat passed in horrified silence.

“Well, now.”

Luz flinched, the spiral of indignant rage towards the Titan and stunned disbelief at the progression of events suppressed by the thrill of self-conscious fright from Belos’ ravenous greed, the dark glee in the witch’s voice firmly telling the mage he had connected the same dots she had just put together.

There was no way such information would be anything but a problem, in the hands of someone like the Emperor. But she didn’t have the time to mull over its ramifications just yet.

Amity still needed to be found, and quickly. Her trail was already disintegrating, pulled apart by the soft migration of flowing magical currents.

She spun, snagging the loosely held hand of Emperor Belos in her own sweating palm, drawing a sharp glare from the towering wraith as she dared intrude upon his personal space. Any lingering fear or uncertainties were tamped down with steely determination, a course of action to save her wayward friend already formulating in her soul.

“I need to get back to the Owl House as fast as possible – some of my stuff is there. And if I want to catch up with Amity…”

For a moment, she feared the ruler’s cold apathy would outweigh his desire for greater power and influence, but after only a short pause, Belos gave a put-upon sigh at her request.

“I suppose that I can afford to be magnanimous, if only this once.”

He gave no warning, no explanation of just how he intended to travel across the Isles so quickly – instead, his chilled glove snared Luz’s forearm in an iron grip, and the world spun horrifically as his staff crafted a wormhole at their feet that sent the pair shooting into the void.

When the duo arrived at the edge of Eda’s property – either milliseconds or an eternity later, she couldn’t tell – Luz decided that walking halfway across the island probably would have been preferable.

Belos’ clenched fist released the mage so she could wobble away, pressing down against the growing urge to vomit after being displaced so violently through reality. Planeswalking was a much more natural process than the Emperor’s spellwork – the first and only time she’d ever been left with a disquieted gut was her original trip away from Earth. Beyond that, her body had thankfully adjusted to the rigors of passage through the Blind Eternities with little delay.

While it may have been thoroughly unpleasant, much like the man who had used the magic in the first place, Luz turned around on shaky legs to offer her thanks for the assistance. Manners were important, after all, as the snooty masked man had implicitly pointed out earlier that day.

However, Belos’ cloaked form had already disappeared without a trace, no disturbance of soil or leaves to mark his rapid departure.

She allowed herself a moment to be unnerved by the ghostly witch’s ill social graces, before shaking off the disturbance. There were more important items to attend to.

“Hooty! Open the door!”

Luz came sprinting in through the swinging portal, startling Eda and King as they lounged on the plush couch, a nameless program blaring away on the small crystal ball atop their aged table.

“Kid?” The Owl Lady stood from her perch, her small furred companion giving them both an apprehensive look as she stepped towards the panting young girl. “Is everything alright?”

“No… no time to explain.” Her head spun on a swivel, frantically searching for her bulging pack amongst the heaps of keepsakes and unsorted goods. “Amity’s gone. The Titan – it attacked her. I need to go, now, or I’ll lose her trail.”

“Her trail…? Okay, questions for later.” Eda shook free of her growing curiosity, marching across the room with a purposeful stride to retrieve Luz’s old traveling bag. “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t take my sweet time with this stuff.”

The pale woman handed off the pack to her former roommate, helping her secure the straps at a comfortable length even while rattling off the improvements she’d provided.

“It didn’t look like you had anything special going on with this old thing, so I gave it a little upgrade. It can hold a whole lot more on the inside than you’d guess from looking at it.” She counted off the woven enchantments on her clawed fingertips, giving the camping gear a final critical inspection. “It’s way tougher, too, so you don’t haveta worry about it getting destroyed. I stuck some rations and water bottles in there, just in case. Figured it couldn’t hurt.”

For all their disagreements and stumbling conversation as of late, it warmed Luz’s heart to hear of the older woman’s careful consideration of her needs.

“Thanks a bunch, Eda. I’m sure it’ll come in handy.” She wrapped the witch in a bone-crushing hug, opening her offhand to accept King’s running leap as he demanded her attention alongside his host. “If you get the chance, could you – could you check up on my mom? I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, and I… don’t want her getting lonely.”

“You got it, kid.” She could hear the warm, comforting smile on Eda’s face more than see it, her hot breath tickling the mage’s ear. “Get home safe, now, you hear?”

“I will. I promise.”

A moment to retrieve her idle staff – and cast a single, longing glance around the welcoming interior of the arcane household – was all Luz allowed herself before any doubts could creep in, forcing her hesitant feet towards the open doorway.

Her friends congregated at the door, watching her step onto the lawn with a careful tread. It felt all too natural to reach for the ethereal muscle she hadn’t utilized in months, feeling bands of frothing aether wrap about her lean form as she did so. Her senses stretched, the lingering spell she’d cast at the feet of the Emperor’s throne still locked on to the shredded thread of magic Luz had located with Amity’s characteristics twisted about it.

In no time at all, she felt her physical body melting away, spiraling into the heavens and beyond under the grasp of primordial magics –

- While her floating conscious tracked the splintered remnants of Amity Blight’s first planeswalk.

Chapter 22

Chapter Text

Before her body had even fully reconstituted into a physical form, Luz experienced lofty gusts of aetheric winds – mimicking the realspace currents of the plane below – tearing at her flickering soul. Swirling, lashing tides pulled at her metaphysical being, slowing her descent towards the new world with their tugging, leaving the mage to land gently upon the soles of her worn boots as reality came into view once more.

The planeswalker materialized upon the edge of a mighty plateau, its cylindrical width surrounded by its brethren as they dotted rocky hillsides, reaching to the heavens above with stubby silhouettes. Dust and sand flitted over the edge of the mesa, kicked up by ferocious winds that ripped at Luz’s cloak, snapping it out behind her. Harsh sunlight baked the highlands about the highrise, scorching spare moisture from hardy scrub bushes and winding animal trails through the feet of each mound.

Their majesty, however, paled in comparison to the tremendous staggered valley forming just across the horizon, the twin peaks composing its flanks creating a fertile divot filled with heaving greenery that bordered the sweltering wilds below.

Amity’s fluttering trail ended at the crest of the world’s atmosphere, fading into obscurity to leave the human mage with little to follow.

She could only hope that such a sight simply meant that the spell had ended naturally – and not because the other girl had come to any harm.

Surveying the immediate area provided no obvious path to level ground; clearly, if there were any sentient peoples nearby, they had opted not to embrace the harsh lifestyle associated with cliffwalkers and kite sailers. It was almost familiar enough to bring a smile to her lips, recalling the daring days spent traversing rocky pathways and swooping islands with the Kor of Zendikar. Her tribe had been relatively sedentary, as far as wandering pilgrims went, but they had been certain to provide their newest addition the skills she might need in days to come.

Fortunately, there were easier ways for an elemental mage to conquer difficult terrain.

A blunted spear of rock shot from the edge of the cliff, lurching into being with a spark of green mana called forth – before sliding down the uneven cliffside with Luz atop its peak, directing the unnatural formation with a flex of her will. As she soared towards the ground on her makeshift elevator, the mage reached further with her senses, pulling upon her determination as she sent out a summons into the void of the Blind Eternities.

Odin rippled into being above her, the firebird blasting out of a slash in reality’s hide with his familiar prideful screech. He met her halfway to the bottom, alighting upon Luz’s outstretched arm as the girl welcomed him, giving the elemental a scritch beneath the jaw.

“No time to play around, pal. You remember Amity Blight?”

She knew she had his attention when one keen eye turned to meet her own, his predatory gaze tight with interest.

“She’s somewhere around here, and we need to find her, especially before night falls. Think you could lend a hand?”

With another ringing cry, her summoned companion leapt from the moving spire of stone, spiraling upwards as Odin caught whipping draft angled towards the sky.

The dutiful phoenix circled her position like a common carrion bird as she reached ground level, stepping from the conjured rock as it disintegrated into dust without the grasp of her spell. Winding highland paths met her entrance, rocky soil eroded by time and passing breeze into a soft, sandy coating that clung to organically carved shelves of stone with gritty fingers. It struck at her eyes as well, cast into the air with a careless flick of force by the uncaring desert climate.

A snap judgement of the distant mountainous peaks put her at about a day’s worth of travel from the promising stretch of timberlands Luz had caught sight of on her descent. With any luck, Amity would have had enough of her wits about her to start moving away from such arid plateaus towards a more comfortable assurance of valuable resources. There was no guarantee that more time had not passed amongst the flowing paths of the Eternities, where time and space blended together into something akin to a primordial soup, than Luz had anticipated.

She wondered, offhandedly, whether the Emperor’s Coven would even consider lessons on wilderness survival necessary at all for their members – before banishing the dark thought with a shake of her head.

Regardless of her friend’s preparedness for worlds less hospitable than her own, the mage had to find her, especially if the slow encroach of night brought with it dropping temperatures. They would need her enchantments to stay safely warmed through the evening, assuming that this world held to normal standards for such environments.

A ragged bandana – thankfully still amongst her supplies, despite Eda rooting through her pack earlier that day – protected her vulnerable features from the brutal touch of sun and flying grit as the planeswalker pushed onwards, staff in hand to mark safe paths amongst thick bushes and sandy shale. Every so often, Odin’s call would bounce between looming stone pillars, his flaring wingtips brushing sun-kissed mesas and dried, wispy trees hanging onto life in the edges of life-affirming shade. They moved in tandem towards the gleaming green jewel in the distance, wandering across a meandering path that allowed Luz to check each cubby and defilade in their wake for the displaced witch.

For all the horror she felt at Amity’s situation, and the impending spike of dread nagging at her senses regarding their ominous quest, there was a fair part of her soul that felt a weight she hadn’t realized existed lifting from its reaches. Before Luz had found her way home, things had been simpler. Easier. The journey to her goal of returning to Earth had always been a beacon on the horizon, something to strive for amidst adventure and loss in spades. It had taken her across countless planes, exposed her to secrets and power and wondrous, terrible creatures beyond the stars.

In a way, it was comforting to find herself walking a path she’d spent five years treading, for better or worse.

Baked mud cracked beneath Luz’s tread as she pressed on, occasionally letting out a call of Amity’s name that twisted and rang across the scattered sedimentary columns. Chasing the slither of stony shadows and sagging plant life between the cracks in the earth, she could feel her frustration threatening to bubble over into a true simmer.

The mage had barely wasted any time before leaving the Boiling Isles – surely her companion couldn’t be that far ahead of her?

Her weak telepathic link to the soaring elemental at her beck and call pinged, a brief and fuzzy flash of darkened caves set deeply into looming pillars flitting through her mind’s eye. Odin’s mind was undeniably inhuman, but the questioning burst of a keen hunter’s interest was easily translated.

Luz hurried to dog his path in response to the message.

Unfortunately, further investigation revealed the lead to be only a shallow, dead end, a lightless crack in the side of a monstrous stone growth devoid of any sign of her friend’s passage. Further on to the next highrise-sized sprout of minerals, however, the mage spotted another set of caves peeking out from the depths of its shaded reach.

Shoulders set, staff twisting in the loose topsoil, she set to work on hunting down any sign of Amity Blight amongst the tableau of colorful mesas without further delay.

Sunset had nearly claimed all the remaining light from the sky by the time Luz managed to locate the coven witch.

Plenty of the caverns she’d explored had been empty of most life one might expect. Occasionally, the scurry of some small vermin or a scuttling insect caught her eye, but beyond those small forms of living beings, not even hardy flora reached very far into any of the burrowed tunnels. Perhaps the region was simply too arid to support much life besides tiny creatures – if she trusted her own instincts, however, a faint sense of tension seemed to hint that there may be more prowling the area than Luz’s first sweep indicated.

She and Odin had been running out of meaningful targets for hours, slowly but surely approaching the poorly-defined end of where the great stone risers grew before breaking off into rocky hills that bordered the healthy mountains miles away. Luz had pulled on their bond, calling the phoenix back to her exhausted self as they entered the final set of spiderwebbing tunnels, ready to set down for a rest and continue searching for Amity the next day.

It seemed painfully unlikely that her friend would have ignored the obvious target of a more verdant region in favor of lingering amongst dust and stone. Unless, of course, she wasn’t in her right state of mind after being yanked around like a plaything by the Titan’s machinations.

The mere thought was enough to set the mage’s blood boiling in her veins once more. She should’ve expected an outcome like this from miles away – any kind of being that powerful, acting as sneakily and speaking in vagaries as the Titan did, was not someone to be trusted. But she’d fallen for it, just like Amity.

Hook, line and sinker, wrapped up in the illusion perfected by a creature that had likely spent lifetimes weaving the appearance of a benevolent god.

So caught up in her own roiling anger and worry at the situation on hand, Luz almost missed the lonesome figure silhouetted by the fading light of a foreign day, shoulders hunched beneath a mussed cloak as they faced the sunset at the open mouth of the final mesa’s openings.

Odin’s low croon ripped her back into reality, leaving the mage blinking and stumbling as her companion trained his sharp eyes on the slumped humanoid form at the edge of the darkening wasteland. Her heart leapt into a frantic beat, pushing her forward with a shout –

“Wait, is that… hey! Amity! Are you -”

- Only for Luz to skip to an abrupt stop, arms windmilling in a panic while the shaking tip of the witch’s sword threatened the vulnerable flesh of her torso, leaving Odin to release a shocked squawk and dismount to the irregular stone floor. She’d barely even seen her friend move, a flash of mindless response her single warning before the pale girl attempted to skewer her on approach.

“L-Luz?”

Amity Blight looked, for lack of a better term, borderline unhinged. Careful cultivation and maintenance of her appearance had been tossed haphazardly aside, her painstakingly pleated braid ripped askew to match the dust and grime caked to her normally pristine outfit. It felt like a dull blow to the gut, seeing the splotchy remnants of tear tracks ringing wide, panicked eyes, compounded by the other girl’s unusually unsteady bearing with her unsheathed blade.

“Hey – hey. Everything’s fine, it’s gonna okay.” Her hands drifted low, palms upturned to expose the lack of danger to the upset coven commander. “I found you, right? We’ll get this whole mess sorted out, just you wait -”

She flinched back as the naked length of steel clattered noisily to the ground, followed shortly by Amity’s drooping figure. Luz mirrored her descent, crouching at the unsteady witch’s side even as she dragged in a ragged, rattling breath of gritty air, fingers twisting into dyed strands of hair.

“How is everything supposed to be okay, when I have no idea where we are? Or how we got here?” Her mutter swelled with low despair, and it finally occurred to the human mage that the unflappable witch may be in the midst of a panic attack. “We’re in some strange land, with no supplies, no way home, and I…” Tears throttled the miserable vigor from Amity’s tone. “I’m pretty sure I’m as good as banished from the Isles.”

The young planeswalker faltered, uncertain as to whether her friend would welcome any contact or comforting words – before settling on a simple act of camaraderie in its place. She settled on her haunches, swinging the familiar canvas form of her bag over one shoulder to root through its contents.

It took more than a moment to locate a bottle of water in its depths – just how deep had Eda made her pack with magic? With precious liquid in hand, the mage reclined against the warm stone mouth of the cave, offering a canteen with silent patience to her distraught companion. Amity took the gift after a second’s hesitation, uttering a quiet slip of thanks as she did so. Seeing the stabilizing effect it had on the law witch, Luz listed off her responses to the other girl’s concerns in as soft and comforting a tone as she could manage beneath the encroaching expanse of stars.

“I’ve got plenty of food and water for now, thanks to Eda, so that’s not a huge concern. Plus, there should be a compass somewhere in here -” She gave the rough backpack a brief shake in emphasis. “Which means we can navigate, not to mention those mountains out there look pretty appealing. But…”

Here, Luz paused, questioning herself on how far she was willing to push the obviously embittered coven member – before deciding to forge ahead, setting her spine straight with determination as she leaned towards Amity’s despondent huddle.

“Why do you think the Titan doesn’t want you going home?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” The hysterical laugh that followed was definitely less than healthy. “Maybe because it tried to crush my mind? Or how about the whole time it was squishing my brain inside my skull, I got to see a parade of every time I’ve ever failed while it happened?”

Throwing her caution to the wind, the human mage laid a loose palm over her friend’s shoulder, taking the lack of rejection after a moment’s span as encouragement to continue.

“I may not know every single little thing about your life, Amity, but you’re not a failure.”

A mirthless snort was all she received, the girl’s golden irises failing to meet her own.

“Oh, of course it wouldn’t seem like that to someone like you. But the Titan? It showed me.” Tears clogged her tone, threatening to bubble over as she stewed in her own rotten experiences. “It reminded me of how much of a disappointment I can really be when I put my mind to it. My mother, my father – hellfire, my entire family, really.” Amity’s eyes clenched shut with the recollection. “Even Lilith, and… and Willow.”

Wounded rage spilled from her lips with abandon.

“So I guess the Titan isn’t just a horrible, uncaring god. It’s a liar, too – singing praises in one breath, only to show you what it really thinks with the next.”

Luz wasn’t certain if it was despondent acceptance or flat despair prompting such a comment. Perhaps it was both. Regardless, Amity seemed trapped in a loop of self-blame, and it was her duty to set the witch straight – though she did hold some reservations pertaining to the Titan’s reasoning.

Such thoughts only made the young mage’s stomach twist all the harder, but she set aside the growing guilt for a moment to aim for comforting reassurance.

“It’s definitely lied to me before – at least by omission.” Dust coughed up from the weathered rock as her trousers made contact while she sat. “The Titan never mentioned Eda, or her portal, before I got home the first time.”

Pausing to gather her thoughts, she caught of glimpse of a miserable glance from Amity, prompting Luz to continue.

“Did I ever tell you about religion, on Earth? It’s not… always nice a lot of the time, to put it simply.” Calloused fingers clenched her raised knees, the whitened flesh of her knuckles standing out against tanned skin. “Sometimes, God – just the one, for a lot of mainstream faiths – would do horrible things because it either did something for his plans, or was meant to teach a lesson.”

Anxious digits skittered over Luz’s boney kneecaps.

“It kinda feels like that’s sort of how the Titan operates, at least to me.”

“Oh, so now you’re an expert on divine planning. I see.” Heated frustrations swung towards Luz, briefly, the gnashing teeth of a wounded animal doing little against her steadfast resolve.

“I never said anything like that. But it’d be pretty hard to not pick anything up from religion when it means a lot to your family.”

Furious winds fell away in the face of a calm answer, leaving only a sardonic snort to fill the pause.

“Working towards ‘unknowable’ plans beyond its little mortal servants, huh?” A well of biting sarcasm was the mage’s only warning before her pale companion surged back to her feet, snarling into the evening air with the bare shimmer of tears in her eyes as anger blossomed further. “Then why do something like that to me? What did I do to deserve that!?”

Her hands came up placatingly, expression pinched with unsettled patience as she stared at the furious witch.

“Probably because…”

The Titan wanted someone it could actually trust.

Someone that would do anything it said, even when it hurt them so badly.

Someone – or something – that would be enough leverage to make me keep my word.

“…It was a side-effect of what it actually wanted.”

“You’re seriously saying, that sending me – us – to some random place I don’t even recognize is supposed to help us defend the Boiling Isles from these… ‘Phyrexians?’”

Amity’s tone was veering towards something dangerous, something thoroughly ugly, and so Luz kept her own voice as level as she could for her next statement.

“No, that was definitely unintentional. Trust me, I would know.” The human mage’s cadence didn’t falter, leaving no room for hesitation as she forged onwards. “The first time I planeswalked, I had no control over where I was going to land, either.”

Her friend’s unwavering, uncomprehending stare broke after a lengthy pause, anger fleeing her stiffened posture as the implication of Luz’s words finally hit.

“What? You – no. You don’t actually think I…”

“Travelled here, in a panic, while flying blind? That’s pretty much what happened with me – turns out that I wasn’t as ready to run off into the night on my own as I thought, and I, uh… had a bit of a freakout, there.” Standing once more, she gently grasped Amity’s slack shoulders, looking squarely into her blank eyes in an effort to convey the truth of her statement. “But – yeah. ’Walkers can track each other from world to world. That’s how I found you so quick. And…” She gave a mild sigh, breaking their staring contest to gaze at the dying sunlight on the horizon. “I think that’s why the Titan did what it did. From what I can tell, most people like us only make the jump when we’re under a lot of stress.”

Neither of them moved, frozen amongst the uncertainty in the air.

“I don’t understand.” The law witch’s response slithered out in a wounded whisper. “How could I just… not know about something like that? There’s really no one who would have been able to see it before now?”

“Besides the Titan, anyway? No, not really.” Luz winced, recalling the offbeat comment that had come to the fore of her remembrances earlier that day. “Well, maybe not many people. Phyl sure seemed to have an idea. I just thought he was being kind of an ass and making a joke about us dating, or something, but the way he said it…”

Amity jerked out of her grip at that declaration, a bit of color rising to her cheeks in spite of the shock she’d had for the day. The mage let her go, wincing at the reaction minutely before moving on.

“As for the Titan, it’s practically a god. It was able to figure me out after the first few times I connected to mana on the Isles; considering we’re two of maybe, like, seven or eight people in the entire Demon Realm that can use our kind of magic, it probably wasn’t that hard to give everybody’s soul a look-over and see the similarities. At least, for something that powerful.”

A turn of a booted heel took Amity to the mouth of their shelter, staring at her own helplessly clenching hands like it was the first time she’d ever really seen them. She watched her go, sympathy running through her mind as Luz knew the other girl was grappling with the firm evidence that – for all her hard work, for all the praise she’d once received – life was rarely ever fair or kind. Growing weariness dripped from the witch’s quiet voice, desperation creeping through as she tried to escape the press of revelations for a time.

“This is… this is a lot to take in after the day I’ve had.” The coven commander glanced over her shoulder, catching Luz’s gaze. “That’s really what it’s like, to – ‘planeswalk?’” Shudders ran down the other girl’s spine. “I don’t even know if I can properly describe how that felt. It was… kind of awful.”

“Aw, it’s not so bad once you get used to it.” She gave only a shrug, directing a sheepish grin towards her morose friend. “I’ve gotten pretty fast with it, too. Used to take me a good few minutes before I could get off the ground.”

“Luz, I literally experienced my entire body vaporizing.” The witch’s deadpan was impeccable as she turned fully to give the human mage an unimpressed glare. “I stopped being made out of flesh for a while. That’s not something you just shrug off in a heartbeat.”

“Well, sure, but… you got better, right?”

A gentle, friendly slug of Amity’s forearm only earned her a dirty look that easily cracked into exasperated fondness. Levity slowly, but surely, trickled back into the deputy’s bearing as they stood side by side, silently enjoying the descent of this world’s sun.

Odin fluttered to her extended limb at the sounding of her soft whistle, flaring to a stop atop Luz’s tensed arm.

“We’ll go rustle up some firewood before it gets any darker.” The mage declared, stepping down from the uneven plateau with living torch in hand.

By the time the pair had retrieved a satisfactory quantity of dried scrub bushes and twisted branches, night had fully fallen about their position as a comforting shroud. Amity awaited their return in silence, surrounded by a handful of gently bobbing werelights of her own construction.

The trio scarfed down a quick meal of fried meat and vegetables from the depths of Luz’s pack in omnipresent quiet, the day’s events clearly weighing heavily upon the pale witch’s thoughts even as midnight fast approached. Brief discussion confirmed their plan of action to be an attempt at reaching the distant forest and mountain peaks somewhere in the middle distance, with Amity making no allusions to her newfound abilities or their ultimate goal after departing the Isles. Her companion let the avoidance go without comment, deciding to take it easy for the time being as the coven deputy regained her proverbial footing.

After all, the Titan had no control over the speed at which they completed its errands now that they were free of its burdensome influence.

Privately, however, Luz mentally prepared herself for the inevitable departure to parts both dangerous and unknown – and hoped that her friend would be able to do the same in her own way.

She had misjudged the distance that they’d have to cross in order to reach the promise of improved resources and perhaps even a hint of civilization – in the end, it took Luz and Amity nearly two days to find the base of the canyon the mage had spotted from above.

Rocky foothills spread outwards in a sea of soft slopes, twisting away to kiss the horizon as thick bushels of prairie grass swished in high winds. A riot of greens and tans baked on the open plains, threatening at times to eclipse their heads at the deepest depressions between hills where rain once pooled. Every so often, a blip of movement would catch the planeswalker’s eye as native wildlife darted in and out of the lengthy brush. None of the creatures dared to come closer, and if she were being honest, that suited Luz just fine. Most of the local fauna were probably prey herbivores at any rate, though with their party left scattered by recent events, a lack of any larger predators was a quiet relief.

For the interim, she and Amity made barebones conversation, the green-haired witch still seething with her own conflicted mind.

“This’d be a lot easier if we could just soar over the fields right now.” The firebird circling their position let loose a bloodthirsty warcry, swooping low to snatch some unfortunate plains vermin from its burrow while she watched. “I actually meant to ask you when we went to Phyl’s crypt – do you have a staff like Lilith? It feels weird that I’ve only ever seen a few witches with them.”

Based on how her partner’s spine stiffened at the question, it seemed she’d manage to stumble over yet another sensitive topic, a fact that left Luz internally cursing herself until Amity forced out an answer.

“Unfortunately, palistrom wood has become increasingly rare since Emperor Belos’ rule began.” The words were clipped and pointed, spoken without direct eye contact or addressal as blunt facts. “Constructing a staff for myself was beyond even my parents’ impressive spending abilities. And distribution of the coven’s personal witch staff design is relegated to only the highest-ranking members.”

“What, you mean like Belos’ weird metal one?”

Her head swiveled to follow Odin’s blistering ascent, one ear on the conversation at hand.

“Yes. The Emperor and his researchers have been able to create a number of artificial tools that don’t require an active palisman to utilize.” Amity’s flat tone faded somewhat as she delved into her own expertise, the topic distracting her from more unpleasant ruminations. “However, they’re still only prototypes as far as I know.”

“Huh.”

Several miles later, the law witch voiced her own questions in the warm breeze wrapped about them.

“When you mentioned being a planeswalker, yesterday, you said that they – we – are fairly rare.” Puzzlement echoed through her tone, leaving Luz readily able to guess at the coming query. “Doesn’t it strike you as a little unlikely that you would find the only other person like yourself on an entire world? Even if civilization is relegated to just the Boiling Isles?”

“Statistically speaking, sure. But realistically?” The mage lashed out, sending a palm-sized rock skittering away with a snap of her ankle. “You’d be surprised how often ‘walkers get tied up in each other’s business. Normally, I’ll go a few months without any sign of one, but I noticed something as time went on.” Pausing their hike to gather her thoughts, Luz’s brow scrunched up in consideration as she ran over the major conflicts she’d encountered in prior years. “Almost all of the places I spent time at, there was some huge fight or crazy apocalyptic event going on… and every time, a bunch of other planeswalkers showed up.”

“That seems… odd, to say the least.” Amity seemed unsettled by the obsveration.

“I know. A long time ago, I read something that went along the lines of: ‘Once is coincidence, twice is bad luck, but three times means someone’s out to get you.’” A troubled frown soured her features as she spoke. “I passed number three a long time ago.”

“Could it just be astronomically poor timing, or something?”

“It’s definitely possible; I mean, none of those events ever had any connection to me as far as I could see. And yet…”

“You were still present for them.” The witch concluded, a troubled note in her voice. It was a handful of minutes before she spoke again. “If the pattern holds true – and planeswalkers seem to always be at the wrong place at the wrong time – then what does that mean for the Isles?”

“Hopefully? Nothing, and I’m just being paranoid.”

Her answer hung like the lackadaisical swing of a bladed pendulum over their discussion, and in search of their previous levity, Luz opted for the non-sequitur.

“Oh yeah, I should probably mention that that crazy lich we met is a planeswalker, too.”

“Wait, what.”

“Yup – and a human. That’s a whole lot to unpack, right?”

“Well… yes. That completely changes everything I had been assuming regarding our trip to his enormous subterranean graveyard. Did he tell you anything else I should know?”

Luz was more than happy to shift gears in their conversation, and the gymnastics of Amity’s disbelieving expression warping throughout her explanation of mana’s historical usage on the Boiling Isles was truly something to behold.

“You’re trying to tell me that an entire branch of magic went extinct, amongst witches? Especially with how many wild witches still infest every town.” The deputy commander’s eyebrows had rapidly ascended towards her hairline, and seemed set to remain there. “He’s bluffing. There’s no way something like that would be possible.”

“I don’t know… my world’s got a long history to show how tyrants can hide things pretty easily. And I’ve seen it happen on other planes, too, y’know.”

“That’s totally unfeasible!” Amity counted off the tips of her gloved fingers as she ranted, drawing a muffled snort of amusem*nt from her companion at the intensity with which she denied Phyl’s outlandish tale. “First of all, eliminating every practitioner of any magical school is nearly impossible due to…”

The human mage listened to her friend ramble on, inserting her own commentary every so often even while she let the other girl’s mind drift from more pressing topics in lieu of companionable banter to pass the time.

They camped beneath the stars for the second night in a row, a tiny campfire burning merrily in the darkened air, discussing the finer points of Demon Realm history well into the early hours of the following morning.

“…So you’re telling me that witches still have magically powered laundry machines, even if there’s a spell that can clean somebody, clothes and all?”

“Well, yes. As I demonstrated this morning, it’s fairly intensive and requires a decent amount of concentration unless you intend to lose cloth – or skin. For the most part, it’s used as a stand-in for when you’re on the road, or if you’re feeling lazy at home.”

“You know what, that makes a lot of sense, now that I think about it. It’s probably how Eda gets away with wearing the same dress every day.”

“…Are you serious? Have you ever considered the Owl Lady just – apparently – doesn’t own any other clothing?”

“Wuh – hey! She’s pretty frugal, not outright broke.”

“Really.”

“I mean, y’know. Most of the time.”

Open grasslands had finally given way on the third day of their time on the unknown plane, interrupted by the abrupt sprouting of lanky woodland growth. In short order, the sparse patches of thriving greenery thickened, becoming a fully developed forest that loomed overhead, leaving their halting path over rough animal trailways dappled in soft sunlight. A dense cushion of fallen pine needles cushioned their steps, dampening the sounds of their passage even as the trees absorbed their words with every breath.

Hinterland timbers, Luz found, had a way of setting a pleasant atmosphere that brought to mind the numerous holidays she’d spent with her mother, before her impromptu departure. If she closed her eyes and focused deeply, the distant recollection of scalding hot chocolate could even cling to the back of her palette.

It was an abrupt difference, after spending the two prior days trekking across sweeping fields and sunblasted mesas. The same sensation of rugged, untamed nature pervaded the air regardless, bringing with it the undeniable feeling of being far beyond civilization’s rightful borders – a feeling only reinforced by their isolation at the foot of the great mountains rising above.

For her part, Amity remained visibly perturbed by the facts surrounding their severance from the Boiling Isles and its familiar, if dangerous, reaches. Luz had not ceased her efforts in keeping the other girl’s mind occupied without being overtly aggravating, and so had spent a good portion of their uneventful trip grilling her friend on various hobbies and interests.

Apparently when one was a member of their ruling government’s secret police, they did not have a lot of time to pursue other outlets. Go figure.

No wonder the coven deputy was so tightly wound all the time…

The topic of utilizing her newfound abilities remained taboo, for the time being. Neither girl had any desire to immediately move on, though their reasons varied – Amity likely had little interest in experiencing the turbulence of a planeswalker’s journey to becoming a regular multiverse traveler; whereas Luz was wholly willing to indulge that momentary apathy if it meant avoiding the hellscape that inevitably marked the next step of their quest.

Fingertips passed over the bark of a roughshod tree, in passing, and the mage wondered to herself what the surface of Phyrexia would look like. Glimpses of its terrain had bled through the first time the Titan had shown her what awaited on the other side of space and time, but it had been a poor picture, distant and out of focus amongst the slideshow of horrors forming in the mists of the Boiling Isles dreamscape.

If its people were any indicator of what shape their world might take, they likely had a very hostile journey ahead of them.

Odin’s curious call bounced between soaring evergreens, drawing Luz’s mind and eye back to the present.

“I think he might’ve spotted something - let’s check it out.”

All-encompassing woodlands splintered into reaching fingers of growth, giving way for the tightly packed uniformity of erected timber construction that competed with the soft slope of the adjacent mountain. Felled trunks sprouted skywards, bound by frayed cord and sharpened to dull spearpoints that penetrated the forested gloom for a refreshing burst of sunlight. Luz tracked the lazy curl of smoke from unseen habitation drifting into the heavens, trying to guess how many people lay beyond the imposing walls in the nestled village beyond.

The pair slowed to a halt, running eyes over the first sign of proper civilization they’d found in half a week, and were met by the return of their aerial scout.

“Alright, buddy, get up real high and use those hawk eyes of yours so we’ve got an idea of who’s living out here.”

They crouched on the border of the encroaching woods, keeping a wary lookout for potential hostilities as the human mage waited for her telepathic connection with the firebird to snap into place so she could catch a glimpse of what the eagle might see.

“Is it normal to be so… paranoid, about towns on other worlds?” Amity seemed offput by the carefree girl’s unusual caution, but Luz undercut the thought with a shake of her head.

“If I knew where we were, it’d be different. But in the wild? You never know when folks aren’t willing to play nice. Plus, there’s no reason to find out the hard way, with Odin in the air.”

“Hmph.” The pale witch seemed dissatisfied still, resting back upon her haunches while they waited. “If these places had stronger leadership, that might not be a problem.”

“Not everywhere’s as ‘civilized’ as Earth or the Isles, Amity.” She tapped a light, aimless beat across the warm length of her stave. “Even if they were, that doesn’t mean anything. Ravnica is an entire plane covered in city, and its still got plenty of wild spots – and people.”

“I suppose we do still have an awful lot of wild witches walking free.” Her companion begrudgingly conceded the point, folding her arms over her front. “You’re lucky you shacked up with the most powerful one around. The Coven tends to make a point of weeding them out when and where they can.”

She almost let her knee-jerk reaction slip out, the question that had been on the tip of her tongue since their first lesson together –

And how much of that bunk do you actually believe?

- But the timely activation of the mental link with her summoned companion pressed into the pause in their conversation, scratching at the base of her mind for entry. Setting aside the contentious feelings bubbling in her chest, Luz flicked the spell’s chord with an intangible lick of will, and without further delay her perception fled its earthly bindings.

Grainy color and too-sharp silhouettes milled about without urgency below the circling form of her phoenix, tending braziers and cookfires along the length of a central road running from one opened gateway to the other in a meandering gravel tributary. Grainy wood and smooth river stone construction rose from churned muck, their smudged details still giving a clear image of a pervasive homeliness to the settlement. A twitch had Odin gazing beyond the camp’s borders, spotting the exposed curve of a distant river deeper within the verdant valley, met by the slow crawl of artificial roads sprouting organically from the far end of the village before them.

The spell ended with a silent crackle, leaving Luz blinking the unnatural afterimages from her sight as she gave Amity her report.

“Welp, there’s a bunch of permanent buildings, so they probably aren’t bandits or nomads. Didn’t seem like there were too many guards, either. This place doesn’t seem like it sees too much trouble with it right off the edge of the plains we came from.”

“Could you make out who – or what – is living here?” A slim brow raised in accompaniment to the query.

“Eh, they were all bipedal. Some regular humans, maybe a few elves. Looked like some minotaurs and orcs, too.” Her shoulders bobbed in a brief shrug. “Pretty standard for a hodge-podge little place like this, from what I’ve seen before.”

Nodding at the statement, Amity straightened into a stand, offering the human mage a hand after a moment’s pause that Luz gratefully took. They descended the subtle slope of their observation point, Odin winging down to perch atop his summoner’s pack and bundle against the mage’s sweating nape as he rested.

In spite of the fortifications, no guards met them at the parted doors, only smoking torches flanking their passage into the township proper. The village, Luz concluded, was similar to the handful of others she’d encountered in her travels far and wide, yet another out-of-the-way homestead with perhaps a few hundred residents occupying the typical medieval fare of most uncolonized and industry-free worlds.

She and Amity wound their way between stubby households, tracking the rough quality of craftmanship and trying to match the stained timber to the living trees they’d passed on the journey into the mountainous valley. Gritty creek rocks and crushed shale crunched underfoot, matching the hustle and bustle of local peoples with its soft susurrus. Few of the strangers they passed did any more than give them a passing glance, polite interest and the natural wariness of spotting unknown individuals in their midst bringing curious eyes about. Her initial assessment had proven correct – the primary inhabitants of the small settlement were standard humans, coming in the wide variety of skin and hair tones she’d seen amongst intermingled populations of both pioneers and city-dwellers across the multiverse. More interesting by virtue of their scarcity were the other mix of species ducking in and out of shaded doorways as they passed; a handful of goblins scattered in their wake, set to their given tasks for the day, while the lumbering figure of a musclebound orc split lumber with mighty swings of a well-worn ax.

“Is it normal to see so many humans beyond…’Earth?’” The witch unknowingly touched upon her own unvoiced thoughts, her golden eyes scanning back and forth with the most liveliness Luz had seen in her gaze since their arrival. “I haven’t spotted a single witch or demon I could identify amongst anyone in this town.”

“Humans are super common, yeah. Same with elves for less settled areas, most of the time.” She paused, running her own line of sight across the sleepy turnover of everyday life for the numerous strangers they passed while making their way from one end of the village to another. “Frankly? I’d never even seen a ‘witch’ like you’d know it until I reached the Boiling Isles. And demons in the rest of the multiverse tend to be… a lot less agreeable than people like King or Hooty.”

“But – why? What makes your people so common?” The other girl seemed genuinely baffled by the explanation, giving the surrounding buildings another wide-eyed glance.

“I really couldn’t tell you. It’s just another mystery on top of all the others, I guess.” Luz gave a bemused snort at her own sentiment. “Like there weren’t enough already.”

As with most towns of such a size, the presence of a modest tavern marked the camp’s center, it’s multi-story plank sides vibrating with the passage of hurried bartenders and thirsty customers in spite of the midday sun. The girls didn’t enter, only making note of the structure from the street, another landmark in the unnamed village for future reference. Small shops accompanied the bustling cookery, flanking its side about a cobblestone core that made up the town’s center. Fragrant smoke and murmured conversation rippled through the air, a lively chorus of sensations that had Luz’s stiff spine relaxing a fraction, the signs of harshly cut civilization reminding her of simpler times on the path to a far-off goal.

It took less than an hour to take the settlement’s measure, their brief exploration halting at the foot of the parted gates that mirrored those they had passed through on the opposite side of the enclosure.

“I could try pawning off some of my coins and other junk for the local currency, but there’s no guarantee a bunch of people in the mountains would be interested in something like that.” One hand cupped the mage’s chin as she mused, the ringing clangs of a small, homely smithy behind her piercing the words with a comfortable rhythm. “If that doesn’t work, looks like it’s another night in the woods without any cash on hand.”

Amity grimaced at the comment, palming her ribs with a wince.

“If we could avoid having to sleep on solid ground again, that would be appreciated. I don’t know how much more my back can take.”

“Well…” Luz hemmed and hawed, tugging her arms defensively close to her chest and dropping her volume minutely. “We could always move on. To, you know. Another plane where I still have some funds set aside.”

She knew the suggestion was a poor one the moment her companion flinched, her unoccupied hand coming up to tug at the end of her braid for a second before determination filtered back into her posture.

“I’m just – not certain we’re ready to move on, is all. Especially not to where the Titan wants us to be.” The title snuck out in a bitter hiss, before softening to a more stable tone. “I don’t… I know we’ll have to move again, at some point. But I – I don’t…”

“Hey. It’s alright.” The human mage grasped the pale witch by the shoulder, giving a sympathetic squeeze. “I get it. You still aren’t feeling one-hundred percent yet. That’s fine. We’ll take a breather, whip up a game plan, maybe make some money. After all…”

Luz’s free limb swung wide, twisting her indigo cloak about herself as she delivered her grand announcement and dislodging Odin with an indignant caw.

“The world is your oyster! Every single one of them!”

A cheeky grin stole over her features at the muffled giggle Amity tried to smother, knowing she’d succeeded in distracting the distraught girl for the moment. Her phoenix winged away with a shriek, opting to light upon the forge’s roof across the street and bask in the glowing warmth of hammered steel beneath his chosen perch.

The sound of crashing metal slowed, and then plinked to a stop with a hiss of steaming liquid.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re ridiculously irreverent?” It was nice to see some color return to Amity’s cheeks – she was beginning to the think her friend had managed to default to an even starker shade of white since they’d arrived on this plane.

“I don’t know, are you suggesting I’d even listen to them say it?” She leaned in for emphasis, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively and drawing an amused huff of air from her companion.

Thin wooden panels rattled in their frame, matched by a squeal of aged iron clasps snicking closed.

“Probably not.” The coven deputy admitted in good humor, giving an exaggerated nod at the words. “At any rate, have you whipped up any schemes on finding us some money? Surely your time with the Owl Lady would’ve taught you how to…”

Her shining eyes flicked over Luz’s shoulder, the wry twist to her lips left floundering as she tensed at the sound of crunched stone underfoot.

“Hail, travelers.”

Deep bass rumbled through the dusty air, the clank of iron chain links underscoring the polite greeting – and the mage’s eyes shot open at the familiar sound.

“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation…”

She spun with half a gasp escaping her lips, prompting Amity to twitch one gloved hand towards her waiting blade – only for the witch to stop, blinking, at the slow, delighted exclamation that left Luz at the sight.

“No way… Angrath?”

Hoarse, rattling chuckles followed the girl’s excited call.

“I knew I recognized that cheery tone, even all the way out here.”

The mage collided with his waist, fingers snagging in thick, curled fur and drawing a whoosh of breath from the mountainous man at the impact.

Their unexpected arrival towered over the duo, a tower of bulging muscle and densely-packed black hairs giving the minotaur his intimidating stature. A full two heads taller than the young human mage hugging his middle, the bull’s exposed abdomen and muzzle were pockmarked by countless scars, a scrimshaw of passing blades that marked his successes as the fierce warrior Luz knew him to be. Polished iron circlets clattered gently across the dense ivory of his arcing horns, rustling with motion to match the half-embrace he delivered unto his old companion with a hearty laugh.

The ferocity of his scarred appearance was offset by the kind smile that pulled at his lips, flames of the forge dancing in his eyes matched only by the corona of crimson that formed his modest beard.

“It’s good to see you well, little one. I’d been wondering.”

Chapter 23

Chapter Text

Bowls of stew slid across the ragged tabletop, skidding to a stop before each of the seated guests without a single droplet of broth flying free.

“So you finally found a way back to your blood-family, after all these years.” A bovine snort of amusem*nt followed the statement. “What a familiar tale – I’m glad to hear it didn’t take you nearly as long, in the end.”

The final bowl of steaming goulash landed before Amity, drawing her eyes from tracing the grains of the cracked wooden counter with a whiff of promised sustenance.

“Yeah. It was… weird, after all this time. But good. You know what I mean?”

“Indeed.”

She kept only half an ear on the conversation taking place at her side, the ravenous rumble in her gut reminding the young witch how she’d only been subsisting on the bland, filling rations from Luz’s pack for the last few days. Having a homecooked meal waved under her nose was much too enticing to pass up for any input she might’ve offered – not that there was much to say, when she barely even knew their generous host.

It seemed the Owl Lady truly was awfully invested in keeping the human mage hale and healthy as best she could. Amity would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit to believing, at first, that Edalyn Clawthorne had simply managed to sucker some poor bumpkin into her newest schemes with fancy words and a wink. After all, that was all she’d ever known of the woman who’d taken in her former best friend, before meeting Luz – secondhand accounts and whispered rumors in the coven barracks, derogatory and begrudgingly admiring in equal measure.

It wasn’t like Lilith Clawthorne had ever made any effort to protect her sister’s name amongst the gossip-mongering rabble that were her scouts.

Oh, Titan. Lilith. I hope she doesn’t get too worried while I’m gone…

“I guess I should probably do some introductions, right? So, Angrath -” Amity snapped from her swarming thoughts, gaze twisting away from the meal she was sucking down as politely as possible to meet her friend’s eyes. “This is Amity Blight. She’s from the Demon Realm, which is where I’d been living for a couple of months before I got back to Earth. Amity…” The other girl gave their host a hearty slap on the shoulder, his stocky frame unmoved by the impact. “This is Angrath. He’s another ‘walker like us. I met him on Ravnica, during that big battle I told you about? I think I mentioned him before, when we were down in that spooky crypt.”

A long moment passed as the witch parsed through her memory, finally dredging the vague allusion in question to the forefront and giving her companion a single nod.

“I can recall that, yes.” Swiveling in her uneven seat, she gave the towering minotaur a gracious tilt of her head. “A pleasure to meet you, sir. I must thank you for your hospitality.”

“It’s no trouble, truly.” The hand that came to rest on the other mage’s shoulder was much more successful at shaking the human’s slimmer form. “Any friend of Luz’s is welcome in this home, the same as herself.”

With the reminder of their prior conversation, Amity couldn’t help but pass a critical eye over the bullish man who’d allowed them access to his household on seemingly a whim.

This was the person Luz had cited as being a dark mage, another user of black mana and its vicious spellwork? She wouldn’t say a mature bull of his size and stature was anything far from a possible threat, but the easy grins and hearty laughs he shared with her only real friend belied his potential for cruelty with a homely veneer. The impressive collection of scars crisscrossing exposed flesh told their own story, however – no warrior with that many markings was a slouch when it came to fighting for their life.

In the moment, however, it was difficult to remind herself of such.

“I’d been hoping you might find your way here, after Ravnica.” Angrath paused in the midst of ladling a mouthful of piping hot meat and sauce into his blunt maw to co*ck an exaggerated eyebrow at Luz. “It was worrying, you know, leaving a young woman to fend for herself on the streets.”

“And – like I told you before – I was fine.” A dramatic gesture indicated the mage’s intact form, accompanied by a good-natured eyeroll and grin. “As if I wasn’t shacking up with the Gruul clans until you got there, anyway.”

“You should know that’s not very comforting to hear, either.” In spite of his grave words, the old minotaur’s eyes crinkled with his smile at the corners.

Luz’s line of sight flicked back towards Amity’s silent figure as the pair shared a chuckle, and the witch realized that perhaps she should add her own commentary before the other girl began to worry.

“You’ve brought this fight up a couple of times, now.” The coven commander spared their third member a glance. “Mostly with an abbreviated explanation. How, exactly, did that lead to you two meeting?”

Squared shoulders and a puffed-out chest met her question, overblown pride shining on the human mage’s face as she prepared her retelling of the referenced events.

“Well, after the zombie invasion began -”

“Don’t forget to mention they were crystallized zombies.” The bull’s tone was almost painfully wry, clearly having heard this form of the retelling previously.

“Yup, sorry, the crystal zombies – anyway, after Nicol Bolas summoned them to Ravnica, all of the trapped ‘walkers not working for him met up at the hall where the Guilds would talk things out, instead of just beating each other to a pulp.” Vigorous swings of her empty fists punctuated the description. “When they saw how young I was, they put me on evac duty so I could stay out of the fighting. The only problem with that, is when the city’s under siege and the entire world is city…”

“There’s nowhere for you to run.” Amity finished the trailing sentence for her friend, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the grand amount of fun Luz seemed to be extracting from spinning tales at the dinner table.

“Got it in one. And ‘cuz of that, since Angrath was on street-clearing duty for the heavy hitters – which is also where all the citizens were stuck in the middle of everything – we paired up to help keep things clean for the other planeswalkers.”

Broad shoulders rolled, settling their host’s impressive weight more comfortably across the crude counter.

“A good thing we did, too.” Amusem*nt warred with wariness in the older planeswalker’s tone. “I lost count of how many times one of my thralls turned aside a blade swinging for your scalp, youngling. Hence why I was willing to make a few trips to keep track of you, once everything was said and done – it didn’t seem right to leave you floundering when I’d already saved your hide plenty before.”

It struck Amity, in that instance – as exasperation muddied the fondness in Angrath’s expression, directed as it was towards Luz at his side – how similar the minotaur’s herding of the girl was to the Owl Lady. Both seemed to view the other girl as a wayward soul in need of assistance – or perhaps, as someone kindred to their own plights?

Unfortunately, her friend seemed more than willing to push the boundaries of their patience with her cheek.

“I definitely didn’t lose track of all the attacks for you I had to stop.” The human mage plopped her chin into an open palm, false sweetness coloring her voice as she gave the man a challenging stare. “Let’s see, it was somewhere around…”

“Five undead, one chunk of flying masonry, and an unusually large crystallized hippopotamus.” His response came with the rote recitation of someone who had heard the diatribe all too often in the past, an indulgent eyeroll following the verbal list. “You’ve made quite certain I am aware of how many times I brushed with death that day, yes.”

“Fair’s fair, big man.” Luz tapped the back of her knuckles against the minotaur’s bulky forearm, a gleam of enjoyment in her gaze while she sat back upon the stool she’d claimed. “I’ll let it go when you do.”

Angrath snorted at the mage’s lack of negotiation skills.

“That’s not very likely. S’pose I’ll simply have to live with your little tally.” A hand the size of Amity’s dinner bowl snaked around, ruffling Luz’s shortened locks and drawing an indignant squawk from the girl that was met with the bull’s guffawing laughter.

He certainly seemed at ease amongst guests, this veteran mage and traveler, posture free of tension as he joked and traded tales with someone he’d known for only a short time. Perhaps, Amity reflected, it was the effect of being surrounded by the comforts of home that worked its spell upon Angrath’s temperament. She’d seen the same in some of the older members of the Emperor’s council, those that had seen battles in the earliest days of unifying the Isles beneath a single banner. Guards and soldiers that bore scars beyond merely physical reminders – solid servants of Belos’ regime, who needed a fragment of calm at the homestead to root themselves in the present.

The bull’s multitude of healed battle wounds certainly implied as such.

“If I had to guess, I’d say there’s a reason the pair of you practically landed on my doorstep – and intuition says it isn’t simply a house call.” His crimson gaze roved over the duo’s dusty clothing, question clear in spite of the bland statement made.

Luz sighed, glancing away from Angrath’s inspection.

“…Yeah. We’ve, uh, got a job. For some big shot, back in the Demon Realm.” Amity thought that was rather underselling the point – considering it was a god that had handed them the task in question - but refrained from correcting her companion, at least for the moment. “We’re not in a big rush – part of the deal was, um. Having Amity’s spark ignite. This was her first trip.”

“Ah.” The pale witch bit her lip, sympathy in the old bull’s words making her skin itch beneath the bleached expanse of her coven cloak. “I’m betting that wasn’t much of a pretty sight? Rarely ever is, for most like us.”

Amity averted her eyes, suddenly and keenly interested in inspecting roughshod floorboards beneath them, the sudden gulf of silence answer enough.

“Well, I’m not here to pry. You’re guests, after all.” Monstrous fingers easily pinched the slick rims of their empty bowls, carrying them to the primitive sink without comment. “I will ask, though… just how dangerous do you expect this little adventure to be? I’m certain there’s something my daughters and I could -”

Thin wooden panels rattled in their frame, shuddering as they bounced off the wall of the main foyer just out of sight. Angrath gave a brief hum of amusem*nt at the sound.

“Hmph. Speak of the devil.” Tossing a glance over his shoulder, the bull gave a wave and a call of greeting to the newcomers, even as he retrieved a pair of clean cups from the rustic kitchen cabinets.

“Welcome home, girls! Long day out in town?”

“Gah, when isn’t it?” A bass voice returned the offering with its own gruff rumbling, feminine undertones scoring across the deep reverberation of bovine vocal cords.

The pair of female minotaurs were almost as striking in appearance as their shared father; one of them – scowling mildly as she approached, likely the disgruntled responder – was marked by a thick, shaggy hide that matched Angrath’s coloration, barring where it faded to a dusky volcanic gray at the wrists and ankles. Her sister, meanwhile, seemed to carry an inverted set of features, with her fur closer to a shade of bleached bone, their contrasting appearances compounded by her slimmer build and exasperated expression. Both wore their modest wealth openly, jangling bracelets and snug horn rings creating a tinkling symphony upon their arrival.

“Sister, you always say that after shopping.” The fading trail of an old argument patterned the second woman’s words with well-worn ease. “Have you ever considered being a tad less – aggressive, when you bargain?”

“Not when the fools are out to flay me down to the bone with their prices.” An unladylike snort escaped the shorter daughter, her head tossing in agitation at the thought.

Their parent stepped away from the countertop, a steaming bowlful of soup clutched in each hand distracting them from the burgeoning anger in the stockier sister’s diatribe.

“Here’s hoping a warm meal might help with the sting of overpriced groceries.” Depositing the containers upon the table’s open expanse, Angrath tilted his horns towards their guests in clear warning. “And besides, we have guests. Let’s save the complaints for another hour.”

“Guests?” The aggravated minotaur blinked, some of the hostility leeched from her tone in place of dry humor. “Since when do you have any friends to visit, father?”

The comment startled a snort out of Luz, still seated at the table, even as the man’s taller daughter made a small, mortified sound at the jab. Angrath only gave a huff of amusem*nt, returning to his seat with dull metal spoons in hand for his children’s meals.

“When you’ve traveled as far as I have, you tend to pick up… unusual companions.”

His children startled at the statement, blinking and staring at their guests with dawning understanding. The softly-spoken woman was the first to react.

“Oh. So, they are…like you, then.”

“Indeed. Girls, this is Luz Noceda – who I believe I’ve mentioned in the past – and her partner, Amity Blight.” His shaggy head swiveled, pinning his visitors with a look. “These are my beautiful daughters, Rumi -” The short-tempered of the two gave an affirmative snort at his reference. “- And Jamira.” His second, quieter child gave an uncertain wave in response.

“A pleasure to meet both of you!” Luz piped up, her ever-cheerful tone ringing through the blanket of awkwardness with a crack. “Angrath’s told me a lot about you guys, the last time I saw him. All good things, I promise.”

The freshly-identified Rumi leaned forward to inspect the human mage, running a critical eye over her naturally lanky form, the minotaur’s brow furrowing in disgruntled consideration.

“You’re the one our father said saved his life?” Her bovine features obscured the expression, somewhat, but Amity rankled at the dismissive tone her host’s daughter took in regards to the witch’s friend. “A bit on the runty side, aren’t you?”

She anticipated the return of Luz’s battering kindness, that stubbornly persistent attitude of understanding and sympathy that made her so unflappable even amongst enemies – but the coven deputy felt her eyelid twitch in bemusem*nt as her companion lurched forward to match the bulky woman’s advance, a note of playful challenge entering her voice.

“That’s because it’s runner muscles, not what I need for throwing an anvil around. You don’t have to be built like a brick house to be good in a fight.”

“Hrmph.” Rumi’s wide eyes narrowed at the retort, propping her pronounced elbow on the splintered furniture with an extended paw. “I’d like to see that bravery when I put your squishy little limbs right through the table.”

To Amity’s mild alarm, Luz didn’t back down from the contest on reflex, instead bringing her own slim palm around with a sharp grin.

“You’ve got muscle, I’ve got magic – that makes us almost even. Let’s do it.”

“Alright, you two, that’s enough.” Angrath’s thick mitts enveloped each of the warring girl’s forearms in their mighty grasp, a thread of warning entering the deep bass echoing from his chest. “No wrestling at the dinner table. I refuse to buy any new furniture on account of rough-housing.”

Whatever strange tension was strung between the two didn’t fully fade, as they retreated – but even then, Amity caught glimpse of the beginnings of something like respect in Rumi’s eyes. The witch risked a glance over at her companion, who’s expression had softened to its original, generally pleased set.

Did you know something like that would work, Luz? Or was it a lucky guess?

Their meal resumed without further comment, neither of the new arrivals seeming overeager to pelt Amity or Luz with questions as to their origins. Was it a lack of interest in something so difficult to imagine, them being from an entirely separate pair of worlds, or did the sisters simply find the entire exchange to be too unwieldy to consider pestering them?

Alternatively, perhaps they were simply tired of fantastical tales from distant lands after hearing their own father’s adventures.

Regardless, their introduction to the household passed without further incident, the delivery of heaping helpings from a bowl squirreled away in the back of the fridge chasing any lingering tension with the addition of a post-meal desert. Before today, Amity didn’t think she’d ever really experienced the sensation of true care being put into her meal, barring a few outstanding occasions – the Blight household, and the coven barracks, relied on hired servants or summoned abominations to handle grunt work. Why would they do anything else?

And yet, Angrath’s cooking was undoubtedly better than the mass-produced rations in the castle kitchens since her arrival. On the heels of their trip through the adjacent badlands, it was a refreshing sensation.

The bull was kind enough to show them the small guest chamber they’d be sharing for their stay – waving his hand through any meager protests of not infringing upon his hospitality by the human mage – before returning to the common room with a warm comment about catching up on all they’d missed between them.

“Feel free to talk, Luz. I think I’m going to lie down for a bit.”

She watched her friend’s retreating back for as long as it took the eager girl to escape their temporary chambers, before dropping onto the soft mattress with a whump.

Their arrival had been so turbulent, the journey just rough enough, that Amity felt herself slip into an easy doze without much care for the cloak still wrapped about her shoulders or the boots on her aching feet.

With no firm time decided upon for their inevitable departure, and a lack of any kind of available finances, Luz hit the town in search of odd jobs to bolster their nonexistent purchasing power at Angrath’s suggestion.

Amity had volunteered to go along, if only for lack of anything else to do. Menial labor wasn’t exactly what she’d signed up for, when she’d set her sights on joining the most prestigious organization on the Boiling Isles – but then again, the witch certainly hadn’t anticipated this step in her career, either.

Being a multiversal traveler was something they’d forgotten to put in the brochures, it seemed.

As it turns out, however, the deputy commander apparently didn’t hold the right skillset. Which sounded ridiculous, frankly – from her experience with Luz’s magical abilities, the average mage didn’t necessarily emphasize generalized spell use for everyday tasks. Witches, on the other hand, integrated their natural abilities into every facet of their lives with relative ease. Even with the advent of coven tattoos to limit a person’s access to all schools of magic, there were many ways to work around such a limitation.

But the people of Angrath’s small town weren’t looking for a pale stranger who could strip dirt from their clothes and skin with a wave of her hand. And… were she being honest, perhaps a few of the more mundane spells had slipped from her education itinerary over the years. So what, if she didn’t know how to fold laundry with a flick of her fingers, or magic food into a pot? If anything, the townspeople could use the handiwork of her abominations, being a source of virtually free physical labor.

When she’d suggested such, though, Luz had seemed a bit conflicted right out of the gate.

“Let’s test the waters first.” Came the hesitant counter from her friend. “People tend to get weird about things they don’t understand, and even Angrath keeps his magic on the down-low. According to him, though, my spells are pretty close to what traders and druids around here know, so it might not spook them too bad.”

She’d given the roosting phoenix above the minotaur’s workshop a sardonic glance at that statement, but apparently, Luz was impervious to the recognition of irony. The other girl had left without much else to say, promising to be back by lunch with their friendly host.

In short, said series of events was how Amity Blight found herself chopping firewood for the aging bull in the rear yard.

Becoming a swordswoman under Lilith Clawthorne’s tutelage required a level of dedication and physical exertion that could not possibly leave a student without a developed sense of physical fitness. In a world where martial arts were slowly edging towards extinction, with most witches reliant only upon magic or enchanted instruments, the lessons were doubly difficult. Seeing as this was the case, Amity Blight was no slouch when it came to exercising, or caring for her body.

This did little to change the fact she’d never wielded an axe before, or that cutting logs in half was something normally reserved for servants in her experience.

“You’re overextending yourself on the swing.”

It was only well-honed instinct that kept her from startling like a booted cat at the sound of Angrath’s rumble, the hulking man otherwise silent in his approach on the soft, dewy grass of midmorning. Amity glanced up at the observing minotaur, politesse hammered home by countless hours under Odalia Blight’s thumb the only thing keeping her reflexive temper in place at the comment.

Seeing he’d grabbed her attention, Angrath stepped forward slowly, his movements advertised so as to give her room for retreat if she felt uncomfortable. The witch simply watched, allowing his large hands to shift her stance about in example, one tremendous boot knocking gently against her ankle to bring the angle of her body closer to parallel with the stump she’d been swinging at.

“When you tilt yourself towards your target, you can bring your hands closer to the head of the axe.” His tone was that of a patient tutor, the warm, gravelly words honed by years of herding younglings with a father’s understanding. “It allows greater control of your tool without sacrificing the power of a downwards swing. Give it a try.”

Her first blow sank deep into the dried piece of timber, the furthest it had gone since Amity had put her efforts towards the task. The achieved depth made the follow-up blow all the easier, her repeated motion slamming through the last of the log’s core with little complaint.

“Good.” Should she really have felt a bolt of satisfaction shoot through her, at praise from a relative stranger? “Keep that up, and I’d bet you’ll be cutting those in half with one swing in no time.”

“…Thank you, sir.”

“It’s no problem. And, please – call me Angrath.” He turned away, making towards the corner of his smithy that held the modest forge and belching smelter that made up his livelihood.

Side-eyeing the stacked pile of shoddily splintered wood, she opted to follow in his wake, dropping the dull blade by its resting place for the time being before setting off around the edge of the rickety structure.

Production for the day was in full swing as Amity approached, the modest dome of the smelting pot billowing fumes mingled with poisonous vapors and the sharp tang of red-hot metal. Sparks burst out of the forge’s open maw, showering an unmoved minotaur in their wake as his enormous mallet pounded a malformed shard of iron into the beginnings of sharpened steel. The flickering flames reflected in his crimson irises, shadows playing hellishly over the walls in spite of the early hour.

There was no wasted movement, nor fragmented seconds of hesitation in his actions. Angrath was clearly at home in his professional environment, a sentiment belayed by the easy set of his broad shoulders between swings of the flat-headed maul. She wasn’t quite sure how he could handle the clamor – hissing steam and ringing metal pricked at her sensitive hearing, harsh enough to elicit a wince and quick flick of her wrist to cast a dampening spell on her own ears.

At least that was one basic skill that hadn’t slipped to the wayside in the face of endless combat drills and legal documentation.

No, she was not bitter about being left on her own by her only friend. Not even a little bit.

The flash of the spell circle must have caught Angrath’s eye, because he paused the project currently taking form beneath his dexterous digits, setting the hunk of crude metal into a thick bucket of lukewarm water at his side before turning to face the standing witch. His expression betrayed none of his thoughts, only a gentle sense of contentment in his eyes to match his easygoing body language.

“Was there something else you needed help with, Miss Blight? Or – do you prefer Amity.”

“Amity is fine. I don’t stand much on formality.” That was not even close to truthful, but she wasn’t trying to posture for the generous man – the coven deputy was looking for information. Not intimidation, for now. “I’d been hoping to ask you some questions, after our introduction yesterday.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. About your magic.”

“I see.” He shifted to face her fully, no tension in his posture, only the mild wariness of someone who could sense an impending conversation of some importance. “What would you like to know?”

She let the budding sigh of frustration slip from her lips, more than willing to display the nugget of vulnerability that would convince Angrath to humor her line of questioning. Lilith had never been one for the kind of subtlety Amity had employed for years, under the yoke of her mother’s iron grasp, or the vicious halls of teenage education.

Since the day she’d sent Willow Park packing from her birthday party, sobbing her little heart out, it had been a set of skills worked tirelessly towards perfection.

“Luz said that… she’d seen you use black magic before. And I couldn’t help wondering just what – form, it takes. For you.”

The scarred bull’s shaggy head twisted, his eyes dancing over the slow play of burning embers at the base of his smithy as he contemplated her query for a long moment. When their gazes met once more, she could see he’d arrived on the implicit source of the witch’s wonderings.

“Magic, like so many things, is a tool, Amity Blight.” Soft words, spoken as if to a wounded animal, turned her stomach with a bitter burn at the underlying sympathy behind them. Or was it only bland pity? “What often matters the most is how you use it.”

“Well, that’s a fantastic philosophy, and all, but – it only works if you know what you’re doing.” She tried to reign in the frustration, allowing only a hint of sarcasm to enter the retort and point towards a lack of knowledge she hated admitting to.

A stray stool sat beside the workshop table slid across the packed dirt floor, its height bringing her line of sight closer to level with the towering minotaur’s stature, even when seated.

“The first time I touched black mana…” Evidently, she would have to offer the opening move, seeing as Angrath was proving more reticent than originally expected. “I ended up killing a whole lot of carnivorous plants with it. Which is what I wanted to happen, but. Well. Poisonous fumes and rotting spells don’t really have a friendly outward appearance, something that I find… problematic.”

And maybe just slightly excessive, not to mention immoral. Just a smidge.

Her counterpart grumbled softly, a thoughtful pair of fingers the width of sausages tugging at his close-cropped beard. Whatever he thought he saw in her golden gaze seemed to mollify the hesitation he’d held, leaving the old bull to shift in his seat, one meaty paw swinging wide. The blacksmith snagged the rim of a cracked wooden barrel, hidden beyond his impressive frame, dragging it closer with a rattle of lumber and metal. An assortment of catch hooks, fishing spears and pitchforks clattered against one another, their tines and teeth bent horribly with the wear of time and misuse.

Plunging the first of the damaged tools into blazing coals steel-first, Angrath spoke without meeting her eyes while he worked.

“Did Luz also tell you what I did, before that battle across Ravnica? Who I was for many years?”

She murmured in the negative, the beginnings of a frown creasing her brow. Suspicion took root in her mind. This had the makings of a cautionary tale if she’d ever heard one.

“When I first left this world behind, I had no grand ambitions or lingering trauma.” Air escaped broad nostrils in a sardonic snort. “By all accounts, I was as innocent as our type can come. Believing in your ancestor’s faded stories about the afterlife meant the existence of other worlds was not much of a stretch, once I was in the know. And a bull of my talents had no end of work or services to provide for strangers.” A single, wry chuckle slipped out, seeming almost to surprise Angrath. “I traded trinkets for trinkets, wherever I went – metal baubles and fishing hooks in exchange for curios, that my beloved daughters might appreciate.”

The shadow of mirth fled his face, cast in stark relief by a burst of flames at his station.

“I was a fool, who let his sentimentality blunt instincts. It had been too long since I’d roamed the bloody foothills and brought war to my foes. I’d sought to escape the trappings of primitive tribalism my parents and elders still clung to, in the wilderness, letting my warrior’s blood simmer to an even keel. And I paid dearly for it.”

It wasn’t a haunted look that he turned on the startled witch, not quite, more a grimace from a barely healed scar that pulled with every motion.

“I lost fourteen years to a watery hellhole full of bloodsucking parasites and monstrous lizards.” He’d retrieved his scorched mallet, punctuating the story with short, bell-like taps across each of the tool’s limbs. “There were no minotaurs on that world; the only mountains I ever saw were buried under miles of jungle and river. Not a soul on that plane was friendly, when I first arrived. Not for the frantic ‘monster,’ screaming about being trapped by something he couldn’t even describe.” The undertone of a sneer warbled over the pained recollection.

“Drowning at sea was never something I’d feared, in the mountains. But on Ixalan? There was only ocean for as far as I could see.” One strained eye spared her a glance from his labor, peeking over his own bulky arms. “The only reason I’m here to speak today is because a pirate cutter passed me by. Pure luck. Nothing more.”

A fat globule of spit hissed as it passed his lips like a curse, bursting to vapor amongst the coals.

“I was so very grateful, at first. A bull may never see the sea as long as he lives, but I’d always known hard work, and it was no different on a ship. That wasn’t the issue, in the end.”

“What happened?” For all the dull dread his tale had inspired thus far, Amity found herself leaning forward on her perch, eager to see what lessons lay at its conclusion.

“It was the crew. The culture of thieves and cutthroats, you see.” Angrath’s words dropped from his mouth like lodestones, his weariness matched by the demonic crackle of burning fuel at his hip. “They never had any trouble from an outcast smith in their midst, who was already worrying about crazy things like never seeing his children again. But the rest had no such compunctions about behaving themselves.”

He snorted again, in agitation, and it made the coven deputy flinch when his chest flared with trapped heat beneath. Tendrils of flames pushed against flesh, aching for release, licking over his tongue as the burly minotaur continued speaking with rage curled over every syllable.

“I’ll never forget the first time I saw a man pushed overboard into the waiting jaws of a shark, just for pilfering bread from the galley.” Angrath’s hammer descended in force, working his frustrations through the yielding batch of steel strapped to a well-worn pole. “The other crew barely reacted, mumbling a bit at the sight, but that was all. No regret, no fear. This was normal to these humans and goblins and orcs who’d lived so far from shore for years. It was an awful way to die, and in that moment, I saw the fate that awaited me if I did not act.

“Now, where did you first use black mana on your world? By a bog, I’d wager?”

The seeming non-sequitur had Amity lurching back, whiplash at the subject alteration leaving her struggling for a timely response.

“Ah… yes. At least, there was a swamp nearby. We were in an underground crypt.”

“About what I expected.” Satisfied with the form of the spearhead in his grasp, the red-hot tip was dunked into the stubby water bucket, sending steam screaming skywards in flitting ribbons. “What Luz likely failed to tell you, is you don’t always need a certain kind of terrain to sniff out the right color of magic. Sometimes it blends and shifts, like paint.” A critical eye inspected the reforged tool, found it acceptable, and swapped the item for its next cousin. “The ocean is deep, and dark, and merciless. Blue magic is just as much about ambition as black is – but where that’s about working around a problem, darker stuff focuses on dominating it.”

Fire cooled in Angrath’s breast, returning the thick snarls of his dusky fur to its normal hue, accompanied by a low hum of unpleasant amusem*nt.

“Once I’d taken control of the ship, I knew there was no turning back. I would push on, use everything at my disposal to escape these barbaric people, or die trying. By the time things came to a head, I was at the vanguard of one of the fiercest pirate fleets that world had ever seen.”

“And… you used your magic to accomplish that.” But how, how did becoming a monster give him the answers he sought for? How would it help her avoid doing the exact same thing?

How could she prove herself better than the person the Titan had showed her true self to be?

“To a degree. Fear and power can go far on open seas.” Angrath shook his great, horned head at the statement. “No, my magic came from what I hadn’t had from the moment that thrice-damned Golden Sun artifact trapped me – control. My enemies could only do such much when I’d force their men to cower before me, or submit to my will and turn on their misbegotten allies.”

“But why? I still don’t understand how you could just – do something so awful to those people…” It certainly wasn’t the impression she’d received from the joyful father of two who’d given them room and board without blinking an eye.

“I never made it personal. The only thing that mattered to me was escaping with my life.” There was no shame in his gaze, nothing cowed in his posture. Only the quiet, dignified acceptance of a man who’d made mistakes and lived to tell the tale. “And that is why I would either break free, or burn the entire world to ash in doing so. Because beyond the petty struggles of greedy sailors and righteous vampires were a pair of little girls and their mother, waiting for someone who had never made it home.”

“…You still haven’t told me how not to become a monster with more power than she should have.” The words tasted like crumbling cinders on her tongue, strained and weak as they were.

Angrath only shook his head slowly, turning back to the crackle of flames and cooking alloys.

“It was never about my skills or my magic, Amity. Only the boundaries I was willing to break down to reach my goals.

“The rest can only come from you.”

Dissatisfaction drove the pale witch to wander the streets after the day she’d spoken with Angrath, absorbing the sights of a compact township buried in the throes of escaping primitivism.

Luz had easily proven her worth with her capacity to sniff out sources of coin, returning to the ramshackle home of the smith with jingling satchel in hand. It was almost enough for Amity to forget how she’d struggled with even the basic task of chopping firewood, under the brilliant gleam of her best friend’s growing grin. The human mage’s time away from home had taught her well in how to fend for oneself, a skill – or set of them, really – that the deputy commander now found she’d spent more time honing.

Prideful refusal of assistance from others had been crushed out of her by countless team exercises with her fellow coven members under the stern tutelage of Lilith, but it had done little to give her the functional abilities of the average working-class witch beyond how she might serve her lord as his dutiful servant.

In her wanderings about the unnamed encampment, she realized why the roughshod housing and billowing smoke tickled at her sense of familiarity; this place looked – and stank – just like the port town of Latissa, one of the closer neighbors to her native Bonesborough. Occasionally, the odd assignment or delivery had seen Amity make its acquaintance, and in retrospect, the comparison seemed obvious. There may not have been sweeping docks and staggered buildings, nestled between the folds of hills engulfed in urban sprawl, but the overall feel of the place was much the same.

Workers scuttled to and fro, weaving in and out of the streets with dogged purpose and rucksacks of goods. Resting citizens dotted the porches and alleys and cook pits, making low conversation as they ran curious, if cautious, eyes over the strange newcomer in their midst. The crackle of burning wood and sweet scents from spiced meats oozed from every other doorway, marking the primary difference between this world and the towns Amity knew by heart: there was no sense of overwhelming tension amongst the common folk.

Here, in this place, it was not the citizens of the Isles versus their governmental overlords. Nobody seemed to be bracing themselves for a crackdown on a wild witch coven, or shrinking into the darkness with illicit goods in hand.

She didn’t appreciate the knot of confused frustration that observation added to her already muddled perception.

It was pure coincidence that brought her to the foot of the first of Angrath’s daughter’s doorsteps, a split-second decision upon buckling under the ongoing stares bringing her feet towards a quaint shop near the center of the market. Carved wooden panels, twisting on their clinking chains in the light breeze, proclaimed the store to be The Tanned Hide.

Sounded more like a crappy tavern than anything else, really.

Thus, it was with some dull surprise that she met the flat silver eyes of Jamira on the other side of the counter, the young cow gently swiping her oak countertop clean of dust with a pockmarked rag.

“Oh! Miss Blight. I wasn’t expecting you to visit, today.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I was… mostly just exploring.” She pivoted on her heel, taking in the exposed edges of bleaching vats and hanging stretches of treated leather peeking tauntingly out from behind the minotaur’s wide form. In-depth leatherworking was far from her forte, and a niggling of curiosity struck her at the sight of the darkened workshop.

“It’s no trouble. All are welcome to my store, after all.” Jamira seemed to relax at the admission, returning to her efforts of scrubbing out the dark stains and light coating of dust from her storefront. “I suppose you’re in search of paying work, like your companion?”

Amity gave a noncommittal grunt at the question.

“Maybe if Luz wasn’t worried I’d scare your neighbors. She said that ‘goopy purple golems’ might start a riot. Personally, I figured people would be happy to have an extra pair of hands around.”

The store’s owner gave a small, warmly amused hum at her disgruntlement.

“I appreciate your effort to not upset them, for what it is worth.” The bulky woman paused to consider something, before moving to pull out a half-bundled clump of goods from beneath the counter’s surface. “If you are looking for some spending money, I do have a packet that needs to be delivered to the other side of town. I anticipate a large order coming in later today, and won’t have time to make it myself – Rumi is not one for waiting.”

Her mother had always drilled it into her children to make the most of a business opportunity, but the potential for more important gains had practically offered itself up on a silver platter, courtesy of Jamira.

“That’s quite generous – but I have something a little different in mind, right now.” Amity stepped forward to rest an arm on the counter, adopting the easygoing countenance of a merchant more in line with the Owl Lady’s theatrics than one of Odalia Blight’s caliber. “I’ll gladly make the delivery for you, if you tell me a little more about your father. I’ve been hearing some interesting things as of late.”

Her conversation with the man himself had left her unsettled, by its conclusion. An unshakeable conviction, so similar to her own, had stared her in the face and told her without remorse that his abilities had been used to kill countless people – and very likely worse, if her knowledge of seaborne rogues held out. It was clear that Luz’s perception of the old bull was shaped solely by her own encounters with him and little to do with additional context.

But this was one of his beloved children, a girl Angrath had once chosen before all others when he’d taken up dark magics on the journey home. If anyone could give her a better idea of how much cruelty hid behind his fatherly façade, it would be someone that lived with him from day to day.

Where did he draw the line, when it came to using such powerful and dangerous spells?

“Ah, well. I don’t suppose there’s all that much to tell?” The leatherworker gave an uncertain shrug, an awkward smile pulling at her mouth. “My father is a wonderful man. Very dedicated to his family and craft. I’m not quite sure what else might be said about him…”

“I can tell you confidently that Luz never mentioned he was a pirate captain, at least.” Perhaps being a bit blunter would shock some answers out of hiding.

“No, I do not get the impression she would have considered that… overly important.” Jamira almost seemed to cringe at her own response, thick fingers tapping erratically at the wooden counter as her eyes skittered away from Amity’s own. “It is clear she holds him in rather high regard.”

“And you don’t.”

“It’s not that simple.” Her horned skull shook in disagreement, sending braids twisting and piercings tinkling against exposed bone. “I love my father dearly. He has always done his best to provide for my family and I, when possible. We first sought life beyond petty tribal disputes so that he could put his skills to use serving the people, instead of making war on the mountaintops.”

There was sorrow in her gaze, when she turned to face Amity once more.

“One of the things I admire most about him is his tenacity. No task has ever been truly insurmountable, to him. And it helps that he is a powerful mage in his own right.”

The witch’s brow furrowed, catching the implicit clause behind the statement.

“You don’t approve of his methods, then?”

Jamira didn’t answer immediately, instead taking the time to deftly complete the knot holding her sister’s parcel together, her broad palms doing little to slow the task as she pondered Amity’s words.

“I cannot deny that I am overjoyed he has come home. Fourteen years was a long time to live without the warmth of his love and care, and they were not easy. But knowing what he did, and how he did it – all the people he’s fought…” The young minotaur looked well beyond her years as she spoke. “I would not trade his presence here for their lost lives. And I believe that is what bothers me most.”

She pushed the wrapped set of hides towards the shorter woman, some of her shy grin returning as she quietly, but firmly, bookended their brief conversation.

“I am sure that Rumi has her own opinions on the subject. Perhaps she could help you more than I – it may surprise you, but sisters do not always agree on anything.” Amity was well acquainted with the Clawthorne sisters; if anything, it was depressing that Jamira indicated their behavior was more common than the witch had thought. “Thank you for your help, Miss Blight. I hope you can find the answer to your questions.”

It seemed that the other woman was more observant than she’d let on, if the minotaur had caught that there was some subtext to Amity’s line of curiosity. Regardless, she returned the thanks, scooping up the sorted leathers as she made her way towards Rumi’s shop with a parting set of directions on the way out the door.

Finding the town’s only other smithy wasn’t that difficult, especially with clarification provided by some of the passersby when asked. It lay cleanly across the width of the fortified camp from Angrath’s own shop, its paneled walls and sloped roof a close mimicry of the older establishment. And seated by the small, roaring forge was Rumi, the stocky woman leaning intently towards her battered bench as she pinched a set of superheated chain links together with delicate tongs.

She jumped at the witch’s bland call of greeting, prompting a bemused quirk of Amity’s eyebrow at the cursing that emanated from the muscular blacksmith that swiveled on her stool to glare at the newcomer. In spite of the cow-woman’s inhuman features, her visitor could clearly spot the sagging bags beneath her eyes as she attempted to burn a fiery hole through the shorter woman with her fierce look.

Long nights stoking the forge fires, I suppose.

“Who the hell – oh. It’s just you. The pale one.” Rumi swapped her attention back to the hissing span of metal loops, some of the aggravation bleeding from her tone as she offhandedly dismissed the other girl, bringing Amity’s lip up in a snarl at the slight. “Something you wanted? Or are you just here to gawk?”

“…I have a package for you. From your sister.”

“Drop it over there, then.” A careless wave of a gloved fist indicated a crowded table off to the side, a random assortment of half-finished projects littering its surface. “Don’t need to hold your hand for that one.”

Amity did as instructed, mulishly taking up a silent spot beside the workbench until Rumi glanced at the stone-faced witch for a second time, giving her guest an indecipherable examination.

“What’re you waiting for, payment?” The rude cow gave a grunt, one hand digging around the table’s sheltered eaves in search of some discarded container of currency. Or perhaps a weapon, Amity couldn’t tell. “How much did Mira say you’re worth for this?”

“She said that you might be able to help me with some questions I had.” Not strictly true, but the other minotaur’s words could easily be misconstrued as such, if they pushed her on it in the future. “I was wondering about your father. He’s an interesting man - quite generous.”

Rumi tensed – she might have missed it, if the coven commander weren’t explicitly watching for such a reaction – before turning away once more with a low growl.

“Not feeling up to talking about him right now.”

“Oh, come on,” She let some of her roiling exasperation bleed through with the words. “He was a pirate, for Titan’s sake. He was globetrotting and traveling worlds for years. You really don’t have any insight into what he’s really like? The things he’s gotten up to? Luz said he’d even -”

“Pah!” Rumi cut her off with a harsh bark of laughter, taking a moment to swipe at her tired eyes as she grumbled. “Luz Noceda. The less spoken about her, the better.”

Indignance on her friend’s behalf welled up in Amity’s breast at the unkind sentiment, mingling with the growing frustration she felt swelling with every passing minute talking to such a boorish woman.

“And what, exactly, is your problem with Luz?” Her tone very clearly indicated the danger of giving the witch a dissatisfactory answer. “She’s been polite and helpful since we showed up. I should know – it’s all she ever does. Everywhere.”

“Oh, yes. The perfect little darling for my father to coddle. Just what our household needed.”

It took a moment for the derisive words to fully sink in, drawing an incredulous stare from Amity that left the minotaur scowling defensively.

“Is that what this is about? You think your dad is replacing you!?”

“And why not?” The scathing retort shot back without hesitation, belying the hurt beneath the simmering anger. “He’s already lost his chance to raise my sister and I. Now another daughter has up and fallen into his lap, all wrapped in her own little problems for him to fix.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Came the bold counter, a bit of steel entering Amity’s rebuke. “If Angrath wanted to give up on you, there was no reason for him to come home at all. He could’ve started a new family while you thought he was dead and gone.”

Rumi opened her mouth to argue, choked on her words in the process, and opted instead to set aside her current piece of crafted armor with a short dunk into the accompanying bucket of water. She took to wrangling solid steel plates in its place, plunging the curved pieces of an unfinished pauldron into the embers with a jerky motion, hands roaming restlessly over her hammers as she waited for the chance to pound something with abandon.

But Amity wasn’t willing to take the brush-off for what it was. And for better or worse, she’d spent a long time learning to pick apart others’ problems with the precision of a blood-seeking scalpel.

“This isn’t about Angrath at all, is it.” Rumi didn’t even turn away from the forge. “It’s about you. You’re upset he left your family, even if it wasn’t intentional, and – what. Now it’s your fault, somehow?”

The minotaur rounded on her, nostrils flaring with her rage as soft crimson eyes bulged in their sockets – before she visibly reined in her flaring temper, thumping back onto her stool with an angered grunt.

“I am upset because he’s a stubborn, thickheaded bastard.” The clang of her hammer rang ferociously, verging on drowning out her own words with each swinging punctuation. “Him and promises don’t get along very well. They tend to end in tears.”

The air rang with the ensuing silence, broken only by the hiss and pop of splintering coals. The minotaur seemed to struggle with herself over something, her jaw grinding away in consternation at her internal debate. The interruption of a layered yawn seemed to shatter her indecision, and with the defeated air of someone well beyond exhausted, the smith's hand crept up to the thick neckline of her vest.

Rumi fished a narrow chain from beneath her collar, revealing the stamped metal of an ancient coin. Its dull grey surface sucked in the light of the burning embers, greasy black staining the foreign angles of its make as it dangled from a punctured hole in its crown. Amity didn’t recognize it as anything local as she’d seen so far – her intuition whispered that it very well could’ve been a gift from some far-flung world.

“Children are thick-headed dullards at the best of times,” She continued, seemingly apropos of nothing. “And worse are the parents that indulge them. Sometimes, they get so wrapped up in the details, the bigger picture flies right over their dense skulls.” Her sunken, resentful gaze swiveled back towards the witch, seemingly remembering her presence in the smithy. “My father loves being the bearer of gifts, especially for a snot-nosed brat with high demands. So caught up in playing the dutiful parent that he went and got himself tangled up in a mess too big for one man to handle – and left a pair of daughters behind with a sick mother.”

The minotaur’s dark pupils kept their sullen focus on Amity’s wrinkled expression.

“So, yes. Plenty of regrets to go around. I’m sure you know how it goes.”

Seeing the tears sprout in Willow’s eyes time and time again as she tore their friendship to shreds, the specter of Odalia looming over her young form with one icy hand gripping her shoulder; the bite of Lilith’s scolding as she told Amity off for being reckless and aggressive once more; the sharp disgust in her mother’s face as she told her of her placement in the Emperor’s Coven, instead of at the head of their own empire –

The Titan showed her these, and so much more as she writhed in a formless dream, Luz’s screams fading beneath upturned soil.

Fights and loss and the bullying, all that hurt she heaped upon her former friend just to try and save Willow’s future – Willow again, standing between her and the hulking form of Grometheus –

She snapped back to reality, laying a sympathetic hand on the minotaur’s arm.

“Those things weren’t your fault. There’s no way anyone could have predicted or stopped them from happening.”

“And yet it was my father’s choice to risk his life gallivanting about when he had mouths to feed.” Rumi didn’t sound combative, anymore. Only tired. “Just like it’s my choice to keep loving my father, and try to forgive him. It isn’t an easy one.”

Amity almost offered her a list of choices that ‘weren’t so easy,’ but the smith pulled out of her grasp, returning to the forge with none of her previous spirited fury.

“If you see Jamira again, let her know I appreciate the drop-off.”

Taking the final dismissal for what it was, Amity left the older woman to her work, no more satisfied in her need for another’s opinion than she’d been upon setting out for the day.

The remainder of the week passed in blessed peace, no words exchanged between guests or hosts regarding Amity’s individual conversations with them. Luz remained blissfully unaware, chattering away good-naturedly with Angrath, and even Jamira, by extension. At least, when the quiet tanner was willing to indulge the shorter human’s endless tide of questions and comments.

Unfortunately, the easygoing departure from their rough arrival had lulled the pale witch into a false sense of security, as things fell into a gentle rhythm beneath the minotaur’s roof. Not even Odin, being a mildly rambunctious phoenix amongst countless wooden houses, caused any issue. No, what she’d forgotten was that – just as Luz had previously commented – trouble seem to follow in the human mage’s wake.

Someone less paranoid than the scion of House Blight might call it bad timing. At this point, Amity had just accepted that all of her close associations were magnets for trouble.

Trouble which started, appropriately, with a ferocious roar echoing off the mountainous peaks surrounding the nestled township – and the arrival of an exhausted elf, draped in ragged green robes, his attire and lengthy hair singed at their edges.

They’d been working in the backyard, Luz taking her turn carving through the supply of logs for keeping the house warm during winter months – and if anyone had the gall to accuse Amity of ‘ogling’ the lean girl as she exerted herself, the witch would consider incinerating them – when the distant notes of a bestial shriek rolled over the valley, distorted by its passage across miles. The mage staggered to a stop mid-swing, both of them turning wide eyes to the sky at the challenging call, before catching notice of movement around the side of Angrath’s smithy.

A ragged looking man panted for breath at the foot of the spiked fortifications, his outfit shredded by brambles and ruined by soot. Several villagers milled about, watching the heavens with fear in their eyes as one of their number spoke to the distressed individual in the low, lilting tones of a language she couldn’t recognize. Frantic hand gestures indicated some threat of notable size, likely roaming the bracket of mountains surrounding the town’s foundation, if Amity had to guess at what the knife-eared wretch was saying.

How peculiar, that he appeared so similar to a witch…

Her musing was cut short as Angrath sent the door clattering in its frame, a worried grimace stealing over his features at the sight that only intensified as another monstrous scream ripped through the air. The bull spared his guests but a glance, murmuring apologetically as he squeezed his bulk past their frozen forms, moving to speak with the hunched survivor and his anxious attendees.

“…What kind of animal sounds like that, around here?” Her whisper was just loud enough for Luz to catch it, drawing her nervous gaze to the witch at her side. “It sounds enormous.”

The human mage’s grim look sat well at odds with her normally cheerful countenance, matched only by the expression she’d seen on the bull’s face in passing.

“I have an idea, but let’s see what Angrath’s got to say about it.”

As the stranger was led further into town for medical treatment, their hulking host returned, a troubled look in his crimson irises that had Amity’s hackles up before he could even speak.

“A drake’s moved into the upper reaches of the valley.” His leaden gaze slowly tracked the procession of townsfolk as they took their impromptu guest to a healer, the low clap of their feet on uneven cobblestone echoing in the grave silence of a disrupted afternoon. “We’d thought they had moved on or died out after hunting the prey animals around here down to nothing, before my time. But it seems this one’s got a taste for people.”

Face twisting in disgust, Amity glanced towards distant fingers of stone, stabbing hundreds of feet into the air.

“One puny drake causes that much of a problem for you?”

“If you think a lizard the size of the town hall is ‘puny,’ then yes, it does.” The minotaur let out a snort of displeasure, trudging past the witch and her friend as he made for the forge’s makeshift armory. “That elf’s ruined caravan can attest to it. Half a dozen guards, turned into morsels for the blasted thing. What a waste.”

Only an iron will stopped Amity from giving an exasperated sigh as Luz darted into the house with a parting comment about finding her staff, a determined look on her face. Titan forbid her literal only current friend in the multiverse not throw herself headlong into danger.

She wasn’t certain what it said about herself, though, that she didn’t even hesitate to retrieve her own weapon just after.

They’d just reconvened beyond the overhang of Angrath’s home – the man in question slowly winding an expansive length of wrought iron chain about his barrel-like chest – when his daughters came tumbling to a stop in the street, panting with exertion.

Surprisingly, it was the soft-spoken Jamira who voiced their shared objections, hurt indignity filtering through the desperate plea.

“Father, no. You – you promised us. No more stunts.” Her lip quivered slightly at the sight of the bull arming himself for war, her gentle nature set aside for a growing tremor of anger. “You said you wouldn’t leave us again, not like… this.”

Rumi remained silent, threading her fingers between her sister’s own limp hands, but the harsh, anxious furrow in her brow spoke volumes.

“And leave this beast free to burn our homes, slaughter our neighbors? To hunt my children? No.” His retort brokered no argument, mellowed only by the affectionate embrace he enwrapped the two fussing women in. “You worry too much. Ixalan’s dinosaurs were much larger than anything like this.”

His daughters seemed unmollified by the comparison.

“He won’t be doing it alone, either.” Luz stepped forward, one tanned hand wrapped about her craggy staff as she spoke confidently. “Amity and I are here to help.”

Their heads turned to the witch, both in question and seeking confirmation, to which she only gave an exhausted nod in response.

Luz Noceda was lucky that she appreciated her company, and she hoped the mage knew it, too.

“Just out of curiosity… do we really need to kill this thing?”

The words came halfway through their journey up the mountain path, tracing the frenetic smattering of boot marks left behind by the wounded merchant on his way to sanctuary. Odin soared far above them, kissing the tips of the pine trees with his flaring plumage as the bird of prey kept watch for any sign of their quarry. The trio of planeswalkers had been moving for over an hour, and their older companion assured them it was as far a trek as they might’ve feared.

Angrath’s shaggy head swiveled, fixing a gimlet eye upon his favored guest.

“You mentioned arriving in the badlands, southeast of town?”

Luz nodded, uncertainty in her tense pose.

“My elders once told tales of how this entire region was flush with herds of prey and shallow ponds, between the hills.” The aging bull turned to the rocky path once more, words echoing with the remembrance of a far-off tale, recounted second-hand. “The plateaus weren’t always filled with desert. Decades ago, it was as lush as this forest. That is, until a ravenous brood of dragons and their spawn torched the plains and fields to scare their meals out of hiding. If the druids of the valley had not stopped the brushfires, our little village wouldn’t even exist.” His statement rang with all the finality of funeral bells.

She could see the remaining resistance burn behind Luz’s gaze, but her argument went unstated, though her sulking expression left little to the imagination regarding her concerns on the subject.

Admittedly, Amity held some reservations herself – putting down a wild animal was one thing, but slaughtering a thinking being for its crimes was a whole other school of thought. There was no question that the witch would prioritize her own health over that of a dangerous troublemaker; but it still added another layer of complexity to the situation that could only complicate things. And that was without the further addition of bystanders, or comrades.

The question wasn’t taken out of her hands or off her mind until the moment they were ambushed.

Coming over the curve of the hill revealed a smoldering wreck of wagons and carriages burning fitfully in the muddy road, a smattering of ruined goods and what may have been torched victims surrounding the damage. They dropped to a crouch, Luz’s soft whistle bringing Odin winging back down to rest in the coverage provided by ground-level brambles off the path.

A moment of terse silence did not unveil the possible threat, leading to Angrath pointedly taking up the front vanguard as they advanced. The spools of chain he’d secured at his waist and breast slipped free, dangling from his great hands with muffled clinking to match their new position about his wrists. His line of sight scanned the battered battlefield, cleaving close to the horizon’s line just past the titanic evergreen trees.

“Let’s see if there are any survivors first.”

She doubted the possibility, but it was certainly worth a try.

The beast they hunted must have been more cunning than they’d originally assumed, because it wasn’t until the trio had split apart – each of them taking a different destroyed vehicle to inspect – that it took flight from further uphill, a demonic call leaving its fanged maw. It winged from a shadowy outcrop of shale just beyond their vision, tearing through the air quick enough that Odin couldn’t even bark out a warning. Jolting at the sight, the spare seconds of shock that left them reeling was all the winged creature needed to swoop towards their party, the lumpy form of clumped boulders clasped in its rear talons.

“Get down!” Amity tackled Luz to the side as the monstrous drake’s makeshift artillery was released, crashing to the earth all around them in a shower of deadly stone projectiles. Several larger pieces battered the annihilated caravan’s wreckage, spilling sloshing barrels and rattling crates onto the path. She poked her head up from the barrage just in time to witness the horrid thing turnabout, preparing for another pass over their position as the duo scrambled, fire building in its gaping jaws –

And then Angrath was there, roaring like a berserker as the burst of sticky flames washed over his imposing stature. They parted before his whirling chain, scalding everything in a cone around their downed spot, buying Luz and Amity just enough time to shakily hop to their feet. The deputy commander’s mind raced, fighting against the instinctual panic at seeing such a large predator – it was like Kikimora’s forsaken mount, but with more scales and less hands – as she ran through the spells she knew that might help.

Her first reflex was to summon a horde of abominations and dive for cover, but they’d be little more than gooey distractions as ground-bound fodder, and she didn’t have time to work out any more complex forms for them…

“Amity!” Luz’s forceful tone pulled her from the rush of adrenaline-fueled planning, even as Angrath darted forward to draw the beast away from their vulnerable position. “Can you throw one of those barrels when it comes back around!?”

“What? I -” Catching sight of the scattered debris from the wooden wagons, she gave her uncertain affirmation. “Yes, probably!”

“Okay, we’ll try that first!”

They’d have to discuss their tactics after the battle – the human mage’s shorthand communications could use some work, because Amity had no idea what the other girl was planning. Unfortunately, that meant she’d have to have faith that her companion knew what to do, even if it chafed to rely on something so vaguely defined in the heat of a brawl.

Still, the witch dutifully lashed her searing mana whips about the downed cargo, her steely fortitude pulling on distant mana bonds with no room for resistance in spite of their otherworldly nature. Spinning on her heel in a rapid circle, the leaking container leapt from her grip on the second rotation, flying well above their heads just as the airborne nightmare peeled off from snapping at the scarred minotaur. The liquid-laden cylinders arced through the cool mountain air; at the peak of their flight, Luz’s fist punched forward – and a spear of jagged lightning blasted them apart in the face of their reeling foe.

Countless splinters pelted the shocked creature, but the possibility of a stunning strike from a point-blank blast wasn’t the aim of her friend. Instead, Luz sucked the heat from the vaporized water with a flourish of her staff, forcing the scattered droplets into a thick sheet of ice that coated the drake’s wings and skull plates. It spun, frantically, as its aerial circuit completed, the sagging weight and biting cold at its shoulders and precious limbs leeching the grace from any further movements.

With a horrendous crash of scale and bone, it fell to the earth at their feet, kicking up an impressive amount of cloying dust in its wake.

Angrath was moving before the cloud had even settled, sending his chains forward with unnatural momentum. One snagged the monster’s snout as it rose out of the displaced soil, snaring its maw shut and dragging the raging warrior all the closer. He swung on the axis of the iron links, releasing his death grip on the superheated metal just in time to skid past the thing’s wild lunge. Searing flames engulfed his limbs as the minotaur closed the distance, delivering earth-shattering blows to the drake’s collar, followed by a booted kick to its swinging snout as it made for a retaliatory snap.

A frantic swipe of its wing was enough to bowl the former pirate lord away from its vulnerable underbelly, and bought just enough time for its clawed forelimb to rip his length of chain from its battered muzzle. Before it could make for the recovering mage, though, Luz charged into its line of sight, slamming her staff into the nearest wing with a crackle of discharging electricity. Screeching in enraged distress, the drake flapped at her, forcing the human mage back once more even as Amity sprinted forward to provide support.

Hissing and spitting like a frightened cat, the enormous reptile backed away, retreating before their three-pronged advance – Angrath swiping blood from a split lip, after regaining his balance - as they corralled it further towards one end of the merchant’s shattered assets.

“Keep it up!” Came the fierce shout from her side, mana burning in her fists as Luz rallied with a confident cheer. “It looks like it’s gonna leave -”

Too late did the witch realize that the proto-dragon’s beady eyes darting back and forth was less a sign of panic, and more a calculating glance from an animalistic opponent.

“Wait!”

Her warning too late, the scaled creature pivoting on its heel even as the words left her lips. It spun about, bringing its large, rudder-esque tail to bear and scooping the nearest cracked hull from the caravan up with the movement. Amity had to hit the ground for a second time as the wagon careened overhead, nearly splattering the agile coven deputy regardless.

She caught a glimpse of one severed wheel striking Angrath in the side, bearing him to the churned ground as it splintered into countless fragments on his unyielding form. With a rush of horror, Amity turned to look for Luz, a half-formed prayer leaving her mouth – but the mage seemed unharmed, merely entangled by the wadded tarp that had sprung loose in its impromptu flight.

“Amity…” Her friend fought free of the canvas sack cloth, her eyes widening in alarm. “Look out!”

A burst of primordial fire billowed past her as she dodged, sending sweat skittering across her forehead at the near miss. What she didn’t spot was the drake’s true target, as she was left preoccupied by its diversionary attack.

Luz let out a frenzied cry of bereavement as the voracious predator lunged towards the downed Angrath, tearing across the distance with reckless abandon. He was still staggering to his feet, flames in his chest sputtering under the influence of his injuries, and their opponent was closing quickly.

As she watched it bear down on the man who’d let her into his home without question, hearing her friend’s scream of terror for her old companion over the roar of flames haloing the monster’s furious features, a small voice in her mind accompanied the curdle of fear through her gut.

Don’t throw your life away for nothing, came a voice that sounded horribly like Odalia Blight. You don’t owe these people anything. They aren’t your flesh and blood. They aren’t your lord’s servants.

You’re so much better than this, Amity Blight, how could you just let your future slip through your fingers like this to be a servant –

She was moving before the thought had even registered, a spike of energy flooding her limbs even as she pulled out one of the sneakier tricks Lilith had taught her in their mock bouts.

The drake was almost on top of Angrath, now, skidding to a stop so it could rear back and bear down on his exposed body. She couldn’t cross the distance necessary quickly enough – at least, not by foot. Her free hand spun a spell circle into being at her side, gripping the magic as it formed and tugging on it like a leash, pulling her through space and time even while her sword snicked free of its sheath –

And then she was inside the drake’s defenses, past the wall of flames billowing from the pendulous swing of its snaking head, and the crash of mind-numbing fear mixed with desperate rage worked to coat her naked blade in hungry shadows.

The enchanted weapon speared through the beast’s hide with ease, the rotting skin of black mana tearing through dragon scale like tissue paper. She sank the blade up to its hilt in the thing’s thick neck, backing away as it choked and thrashed against the needle of steel puncturing its side.

She felt a starburst of lingering regret as they watched it die, clawing and tumbling away in a futile attempt to escape – but the fresh memory of her best friend shrieking as she prepared herself to watch someone she loved die was enough to harden her resolve.

Wire-taught tension fled her muscles as their opponent finally collapsed, leaving her wheezing out a single, disbelieving laugh as the frantic energy of battle flushed form her system. Angrath and Luz hobbled up beside her, a spread of conflicted emotions clear in their faces at the sight of the dying lizard.

A brutish paw gently clapped her sagging shoulder.

“My thanks, Amity Blight.” The weary minotaur’s eyes didn’t leave the drake’s corpse, but his words softened into an appreciative murmur nonetheless. “I have no doubt that if I died here, my daughters would’ve taken up necromancy just so they could kill me again. No need to let them start on any bad habits anytime soon.”

She couldn’t stop the snort that left her chest at the statement, a reaction she heard Luz mimic as well. Glancing at the human mage, Amity felt a spike of anxiety as she turned to face her friend, fearing the possibility of her disapproval at permanently ending the threat to the trio.

All she found in the other girl’s expression, however, was tender relief – and pride. Something loosened in her chest as a burden that she hadn’t even realized was there finally lessened. For the first time in over a week, the Titan’s words didn’t seem to cut so deeply.

The lean mage wrapped her in a one-armed hug that she gratefully returned, enjoying the warmth of their embrace. Luz leaned forward to brush her lips against the rim of Amity’s sensitive ear, nearly making her shiver at the contact.

“Thanks for saving him, Amity. I owe you one.”

If the hot, prideful feeling growing in her gut was what Luz experienced whenever she did something stupidly heroic, maybe there was something to being a reckless romantic, after all.

She could get used to being the good guy.

Chapter 24

Chapter Text

The return to the village was met with notable fanfare.

They’d stormed off to face the threat before news of the attack had properly spread to the remainder of town, as evidenced by the congregation of slapdash men-at-arms who greeted the trio’s triumphant retreat. A gaggle of male and female villagers alike, ranging from too-young teens up to aging grandparents and all dressed in whatever relics they’d kept from long-gone armories, milled about nervously behind the spiked gate.

Luz could see the fear in their eyes turn to hesitant hopefulness, and then jubilant victory, when Angrath hefted the severed paw of their kill over his head with a roar.

It seemed they weren’t used to the kind of proactive mages most planeswalkers ended up being. Not all of their kin were particularly inclined towards heroics, or even overt morality – but as she’d explained to Amity, it was difficult to not run headfirst into trouble when you’re always on the move. And these people were clearly farmers, nothing approaching career soldiers or even less organized warriors. Personally, she’d be shocked if there were more than a handful of spellcasters in their midst at all.

Raw relief in the faces of the oldest let Luz know all she needed about how grim they’d found the return of even a single dragonspawn to their territory. Scars from the last assault must have run deep – but not quite deeply enough that their children grew up with anything more than stories in place of first-hand experience.

She did, slightly, regret the creature’s demise. Killing wildlife was not a favorite pastime of hers, though the occasional bout of hunting or fishing to replenish her stores on longer trips was nothing new. Worse was the fact that many drakes and dragons were quite intelligent, running the gamut from keen predatory minds up to the malevolent genius of individuals like the dreaded Nicol Bolas.

But what, then, did that say about something that had slaughtered an entire caravan without mercy, all for the sake of an easy meal?

Watching that thing bear down on Angrath’s stumbling form was like Zendikar and Ravnica and being stripped from her mother all over again. It had taken Luz’s considerable will to not break down in a panic at the sight, and even then, she’d barely managed to restrain herself enough to fight through the greasy tarp keeping her trapped. Had it just been the pair of them, maybe even if Odin had dared wing from cover to provide a distraction, the bull likely would have been the screaming monster’s next meal.

If it hadn’t been for Amity…

The mage had caught a glimpse, only a fractional second, of the conflict that played out across the pale witch’s face. She’d seen indecision cave into fear as sweat beaded her forehead, watched the struggle to draw her sword from her sheath or make a lunge towards her downed self – only for it to give way for frantic determination. It looked sickeningly easy for the other girl, plunging the blade with little resistance into the drake’s soft underbelly where the scales thinned out at the base of its collar. Luz knew, intellectually, that that wasn’t entirely the case – the surge of black magic that rippled over the sharpened steel was mostly the culprit in allowing Amity to practically behead their quarry in a single lunge.

For as terrible as it had all been, the whole event was nearly made worthwhile just by way of the confidence it had seemed to restore within the coven deputy. She hadn’t seemed fully pleased, per se, to take a life in such a manner. But the proud set to her shoulders, even in the face of exhaustion, told Luz all she needed to know about how Amity felt after the fact. Her dressing down by the Titan had left the normally unflappable girl’s self-assurance in tatters; the mage wasn’t even certain she’d seen her friend crack a single, genuine smile since their arrival on Angrath’s plane.

Pulling her thoughts away from reflections that could wait for that night, Luz watched as an older man – the collar of his jacket all too tight around his sweating neck – broke from the crowd with an official-looking entourage in tow, his expression slightly disbelieving upon beholding the minotaur’s morbid trophy.

“Ah – ahem. Smith Angrath.” This guy was definitely trying too hard at being officious for someone (presumably) in charge of a relatively small village, but at least he didn’t seem outright slimy like some politicians she knew of. “I see that we have you to thank for dealing with the threat to our town. And in a… rather timely manner, I must say.”

Any hint of the raging berserker bull that had parted flames and fist fought a dragon faded away like smoke, and suddenly it was only the bashful, gainfully employed father of two giving the shorter human a slightly sheepish look. The change was immediate, though only really noticeable to someone who knew his temperament better – which begged the question of how much Angrath’s neighbors understood of his past.

Had he never told them the truth of his journeys in the intervening years between his disappearance, and eventual return?

Based on the shocked looks adorning most of his neighbors faces – offset by the grim and uncertain looks his own daughters were directing him – it seemed that not everyone was fully aware of the bull’s supernatural experiences.

“I certainly couldn’t have handled it on my own.” One blood-soaked paw landed on Luz’s shoulder, smearing the viscous fluid into her precious cloak, but it didn’t bother her too much. Amity had scraped worse out of their clothes already with that spell she seemed fond of for staying clean. “Luz was a great help for the battle – and it was Amity who struck the final blow.”

The crowd’s relieved celebration didn’t dim, but now their awestruck gazes were not reserved for merely Angrath. She gifted them a shy smile and wave, trying not to quail beneath the attention, especially considering she felt like most their success laid on the others’ shoulders. Regardless, the people were obviously pleased with the outcome of their efforts, even directing a few warm and appreciative glances towards Amity, the least known member of the party.

“Well, ah, we thank you all for your bravery today.” Some of the taut fear in the town official’s spine lessened, and when he shook each of their hands in turn – barely even flinching at the blood coating them – his smile was mostly genuine. “Angrath, we’ll need to speak with you further on what else you might’ve seen up there. The caravan will have to be salvaged; the roads surveyed for damage…”

Luz noted, without comment, the lack of commentary about ensuring such a threat did not rise again – and knew the hopeful looks on the townspeople’s faces were likely the only reason their mayor wasn’t in more of a tizzy.

“Girls, head back to the house without me. This may be a while yet.” Their host waved his free hand in the direction of his workshop, moving to drop the severed talons into Luz’s grip and wow, was that heavy. “Feel free to clean up – you’ve more than earned it.”

Neither of them were particularly keen on loitering any longer than necessary, and Amity shifted position to help haul their evidence of the kill home without comment. Adventuring, Luz had long since come to understand, was exhausting work. You could go all day at a strenuous, labor-intensive job – but getting into fights? It either ended in an adrenaline dump that would keep a person wired for the next day straight, or an adrenaline crash when all the death-defying experiences caught up with them.

She knew which was hitting her, because frankly, Luz could’ve done with a nap after all of that.

The last glimpse she had of Angrath was the bulky man walking alongside the streaming crowd of town leaders, shaking a bit of crusty gore from his mane as they spoke in low voices – only to stop and catch his children in a tight embrace as they barreled into him. He seemed surprised at their reactions, pleasantly so, if she understood the look on his face correctly. Jamira had buried her snout in her father’s arm, presumably so no one could see any tears she might shed. Her sister, however – for a moment, Luz thought she might fly off the handle, curse out their parent for endangering himself and others on a fool’s errand, but no. The shorter minotaur only burrowed into Angrath’s side with a look of sagging relief, before breaking away so that he could continue on.

Turning away from the scene so that nobody could spot the small smile she was sporting, Luz waddled towards the forge with the limp claws of the drake caught between herself and her companion.

Neither the old warrior, nor his offspring, returned to their family smithy until the long fingers of sunset had extended their grasp over the horizon. Luz and Amity had spent the intervening hours cleaning themselves off, stripping the dust and blood and sweat from traveling clothes before settling in to doze. She’d spent a good hour or two fighting the urge to nod off as they sat in the small offshoot lounge, the hypnotic simplicity of watching the reinvigorated witch wipe down her blade with a oiled cloth and loving care. Just as sleep had snagged her eyelids, Angrath returned with daughters trailing behind, beelining for the bath with a mumbled groan about not letting fluids stain his only good tunic.

Rumi and Jamira found them there, in the living room, entering the chamber with undue uncertainty in their steps. They seemed unable to look Luz or Amity in the eyes, only glancing around the space as something clearly bothered them both. The mage simply waited for them to say their piece, her pale friend taking the silence as an indicator to give them the opening to speak.

Finally, it was Jamira who broke the quiet, giving them an unsettled look.

“Father told us that – well. If he’d been alone, the drake might have…”

“Hurt him?” Amity quietly supplied, snagging Luz’s pack from its place beside the couch to store her cleaning equipment.

“Yes. That.” The eldest sister appeared unsure of how to converse with them, a look of… pity in her gaze? “He had made mention, before, of the companions found on the way home. How they had proven themselves as fierce warriors, allies he was proud to stand beside.” Her bulky arms came to rest, folded over her chest, as she restrained an obvious urge to fidget. “I suppose I simply didn’t understand that they might not be as… experienced, as he is, with the world. It is – strange to consider, with how Father is…”

At first, Luz couldn’t understand what Jamira was implying – until she realized the tall cow was looking down at them, clearly examining their shorter statures and slimmer builds.

Did she think that they were too young to be fighting like this, too weak? To travel the width and breadth of worlds, uncover their secrets? She was barely older than either of them, and if that was her impression, then Luz had some stories to tell Angrath’s daughters because they didn’t seem to fully comprehend just what it meant to be in the line of fire, no matter where you went or how far you ran.

The mage bet that they’d never even heard of anything as horrifying as an Eldrazi titan, let alone survived gazing upon one.

Sensing the awkward atmosphere she’d contributed to, Jamira ducked out of the room, muttering her thanks for keeping their father’s hide intact before fleeing to freshen up. Rumi, however, made no move to escape immediately. It was a few long moments before she spoke, begrudgingly contemplative.

“When you first arrived, I’d pegged you as a little milksop dogging my father’s boots. I figured he’d felt too bad about leaving you on your own, and maybe he saw a chance to baby someone when he’d missed out before.” Amity bristled at the slight, even as it was directed at Luz – but she only gave her a shake of her head. If this conversation had to do with the low simmer of hostility the planeswalker had picked up from the stocky minotaur throughout their stay, it would be better to have everything laid out before them.

Now it was Rumi’s turn to inspect the smaller human, but Luz could tell it wasn’t the same as with her sister. Where Jamira saw only the similarities of another daughter who’d lost their childhood innocence too early, the young smith sought out bruises and cuts, comparing them against the wounds undoubtedly sported by her father. She’d seen the damages he’d shrugged off to return home, and then speak with the mayor – it was not a pretty sight.

“S’pose I owe you an apology.” The words did not come easily, but they did not seem to hurt Rumi to say, either. “He doesn’t like to talk about the first few years away, you know. Gets an awful look on his face whenever he tries. But you?” She shook her broad head, shaggy mane twisting in its wake. “He always liked to tell us about the brave little human he met in the middle of a war. Said she was a survivor, like him. I guess I see it better now.”

Nothing was said for a lengthy stretch of seconds.

“So, well. Sorry.”

Luz didn’t really know how to respond, but Rumi seemed satisfied with having said her piece, and retired to her chambers the same as her sibling. Amity, feeling bemused at the conversation she’d practically been excluded from, summarized their shared feelings succinctly.

“Huh. That was… kind of weird.”

She had to laugh at that.

“Yup.”

Another week passed in Angrath’s company, during which the duo steeled themselves for departure.

After witnessing the restoration of Amity’s spirits in the face of their successful hunt, she’d been waiting for the other girl to say something about moving on. The coven witch was not one to remain content and sedentary, as far as she understood her. And so it was with little surprise that Luz was caught by her friend on the arm as they filed out from dinner one night, dried soap scum from the sink leaving the witch smelling freshly fragrant in its wake.

“Hey – Luz. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” So very serious, all the time. The mage had hoped by now that Amity didn’t always need to keep up her professional face around her, but she’d take the use of informal contractions for the small victory it was. “I think… I think I’m ready to move on, and get to work. Only if you’re feeling prepared as well, of course, this isn’t just about me -”

“That’s fine, Amity.” She had to cut across the stuttering, just a little bit, before Amity could work herself into a mess of words with a single conversation. It was odd - some days they could speak for hours without stumbling, and on others, it was like the witch expected to be punished for rambling on. Just another piece of the puzzle to work through, in the end. “We should let Angrath know, though. I think he’s been sneaking around the last few days and I have a feeling it has to do with something for us.”

“Ah – well. Alright. I’ll – leave you to it, then.” Amity blinked, seeming shocked at her easy acquiescence, before returning to their shared room with a grateful nod.

Luz assumed the deputy had been expecting more of a fight on leaving so soon, considering how comfortably they’d fallen into a rhythm with her old companion. And the planeswalker did love spending time with Angrath – it never stopped surprising her, how gentle and thoughtful the former pirate lord could be when it came to those he cared about. But for all their shared camaraderie, visiting him – staying here, with his family – was not something she’d ever anticipated going on for too long.

Taking on the burden of the Titan’s task was not exile, not really, but it was still an obstacle between Luz and her ability to see her mother once again that would itch at the back of her mind until it was completed. Perhaps that was somewhat literal, seeing as if she focused hard enough on the hum of mana floating about her, she could just pick out the strands of the Titan’s enchantment upon her body that would direct them where they needed to go.

But it was more than that – Luz had no intention of abandoning Amity to the will of something as fickle as a god, and just as importantly, she knew her friend would not let go of their quest unless it had been seen through to completion. It was too personal, too weighed upon by the stakes of the situation, for the witch to simply give up. Not to mention she had no experience with the wider multiverse, or the threats throughout it.

For good or ill, Luz would be by her side until they had fulfilled the Titan’s wishes, and the sooner they completed those goals the faster she’d be able to see her other friends and family again.

When she brought up the point of their leaving the homestead at breakfast the following morning, a sheen of sweat streaking her forehead after early morning chores, Angrath asked that they give him just a few more days of their time before moving on.

“My daughters and I have been working on something to thank you, for your assistance and company.” His polite request was given with a smile, but Luz could see the fatherly worry beneath the curve of his lip.

It warmed her to know he cared so deeply about their safety, but for as much as she loved him for it, Luz also knew he would understand. There was a bond between them, forged in the crucibles that had taken down the road to finding their blood families once more; Angrath would never, in good conscience, stop her from doing something that would see the young mage returning to the world of her birth.

She’d admit to a bit of selfish wishing, though, on the final night before the bull’s promised gift. They sat together beneath the thin wooden awning of his workshop, basking in the relieving gust of fresh air rolling through the smoky little building as deep evening descended, fanning the sparks of his equipment with an affirming breath of oxygen.

Glancing at Angrath, Luz sucked in a breath, ready to break the taboo they shared with but a fear-fueled word when the scarred minotaur shook his head slowly, a bit of wistfulness on his face.

“I know what you want to ask of me. And… I’m sorry, Luz.” The final bout of seething embers burst from the work pit at his hammer’s descent, before he dunked his project for the day into a bucket for tempering. Meeting her eyes, he must have seen some reflection of his own expression in her features, because he let loose a world-weary sigh. “It pains me to let you and your friend head into something dangerous without my help.”

His gaze skipped to the homely shack behind them, a forlorn determination filling his person.

“But I’ve made my daughters a promise. I already had to break it, when that gods-damned Golden Sun pulled on me once more.” His thick fingers rubbed at the tendons of his throat, as if imagining marks from a sealed collar digging into flesh. “I would hope that you, of all people, can understand.”

“Yeah. I do.” She swallowed own the disappointment, the nugget of uncertainty that had prompted the forbidden request in the first place, and forged ahead while the iron was still hot. “Do you know anything about the Phyrexians? Our ‘boss’ didn’t have a whole lot to tell us, when we were given the… job.”

“Not much. And nothing good.” He turned his eyes to her, and she witnessed concern for herself and Amity glowing within the crimson orbs – the same flavor of fear he’d shared with her months before, on a dark and damp night, where the tired bull wondered aloud if his daughters could forgive him for leaving them a second time. “I hope our efforts will be enough to keep you both safe. But it seems…” Angrath pulled the unfinished blade from its resting place, inspecting the roughshod form of unrefined steel with a solemn, experienced eye. “Only time will tell if that is the case.”

“The first and last thing I tell my customers is this: these are not going to make you invincible. They’ll just help keep you alive long enough to crawl back to a healer. Do not expect anything more or you’ll regret it.”

It took more effort than Luz would’ve liked to hold back her laughter, but really, who could blame her? Watching Rumi the blacksmith strut back and forth like a drill sergeant pulled straight from a twentieth century military film, barking out philosophical demands to her ‘squad,’ was just a little bit much to handle. She could tell her amusem*nt was not isolated – behind the stern woman, her sister and father wore pinched expressions that implied they, too, found it hard to stifle any chuckles.

The way Amity nodded along at the barked words, though, taking the deadly serious warnings at face value was simply the icing on the cake.

Opting not to infuriate the person who’d just delivered a heartfelt and helpful gift, Luz made to fiddle with the cuff of her new bracers, tugging on their rim so as to sit more comfortably against her flesh. The gauntlet was only a single piece of the handcrafted armor she and her friend had received from the family of smiths and tanners, each of them now clad in lightweight leather equipment intended to help protect them from blades and the elements alike.

Primarily, the armor was focused at Luz’s wrists, shoulders, and shins, with a thick tunic acting as a sort of breastplate. The real strength behind the armaments, however, were the treated scales glimmering with the bolts of sunlight that struck their fractal surfaces; peeled from the hide of the drake they’d defeated, and reinforced with steel and Angrath’s own enchantments, the smith boasted that all but the most crushing of blows would do more than skirt free of the coverings.

Luz understood that, realistically, no armor was perfect. It was why she’d begun training for combat with next to nothing beyond the essentials – if she was quick enough to survive with only her wits and her staff, then anything more would be a bonus. But a relatively minor addition to her protective measures was still welcome, nonetheless.

Whatever Angrath had done in conjunction with Jamira’s artistic eye, it had developed rather well. The human mage had no idea how they’d forced the drakescale to change color from the dull red it had once been, but now they matched each of their respective outfits – a deep indigo to match Luz’s cloak, and a creamy pearl set for Amity’s own coven gear.

It was one of the most thoughtful gifts she’d received in a long while, and based on Amity’s reaction, that was a sentiment she shared.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you so much – all of you.” Rumi looked offput, the wind beneath her sails cutting out at the cheerful words, before giving an exasperated huff at Luz’s heartfelt statement. She shifted aside so that the shorter woman could move past, wrapping Angrath in an embrace that barely put her level with his chest. “I’m sure it’ll come in handy while we’re out there.”

The bull gave a sardonic snort, placing one massive hand on her scalp with tender care.

“I’d rather hear you never had need to make use of it, but I know what life is like for our kind. I suppose we’ll simply have to be satisfied to hear about the blades it turned aside instead.”

“Would you be willing to take orders from… foreign organizations?” Amity questioned, a note of intrigue slipping in as she ran her fingers over the rippling pelt of draconic leather. “This is much better than anything the scouts in the Coven are given. I’m sure I could convince our commander to pay for something like this…”

Angrath gave a good-natured chuckle at the semi-serious inquiry.

“Tell you what – let me know how it performs in the field, and when you come back with tales of how you waded into fights without fear, I’ll give it some thought. There’s enough leftover scales to arm half a battalion, still.” Some of his humor subsided, and he gave them both a serious look. “Jokes aside, if I had any say in it, I’d demand you spend at least a few weeks sparring to become used to fighting in something like that. It may be light, but there will no doubt be an adjustment period. You’ll have to be additionally cautious until you can work out the kinks.”

“Well, the last five planes I’ve ended up on, we had a ridiculous hike to go through before anything exciting happened, so that should give us some time to figure it out.” He didn’t seem overly contented by her words, so Luz only squeezed him all the tighter, before finally releasing the tall minotaur from her crushing grasp. “We’ll stay safe, Angrath. I promise.”

“You shouldn’t make promises you know you can’t keep, little one.” For a moment, it seemed as if he intended to make another gesture – but the moment passed, and he stepped away from the pair of adventurers. “Make sure to visit us again. It was a pleasure having you.”

“Thank you again, sir. You’ve been very accommodating since our arrival.” Amity gave him a gracious nod, before co*cking her head to the side, a thoughtful expression stealing over her face. “You know, I don’t think either of us even knows what this world is called? Luz sure didn’t seem to expect seeing a friendly face here.”

The statement startled a huff of shocked amusem*nt out of Angrath, who hummed low in his chest with consideration.

“Our people are a simple one. Most don’t even think of what they might find beyond our own skies.” He gave them a small, secretive grin. “But the people of the mountains say this world knows itself as ‘Angorrah.’ Something about the world’s soul speaking to them.”

Luz nodded in acknowledgement, tasting the foreign name on her tongue even as she stepped to Amity’s side. Her pack was stuffed full of purchased supplies; Odin was already dismissed and resting on Ravnica; they were ready to take up the Titan’s quest once more. Offering the witch her hand and an encouraging smile, she turned to give the bull and his watchful daughters one last parting wave even as she felt cool, gloved fingers encircle her own.

“We’ll stop by and give you an update when we get the chance. Wish us luck!”

They stepped forward as one, and the last thing Luz heard before everything faded to the nonexistence of the Blinding Eternities was Angrath’s deep, confident rumble as he gave their journey his blessings.

Metaphysical forms tumbling over and past one another, Luz led Amity with a tug of intent towards the beacon underscored by the Titan’s will some nonlinear distance from the world of Angorrah. She’d never traveled side by side with another planeswalker before; it was an odd sensation, seeing as the Eternities technically left them deprived of normal sensory inputs, barring the odd sort of vision that came from her mind plying its currents. But she remained aware of the witch’s soul at her side as they barreled forward, aiming for the dark star that was Old Phyrexia.

They’d discussed a plan of action for their arrival in the wee hours of the morning before departing. If the dead god’s visions were to be believed, it was entirely possible they’d be walking into a fight from the get-go if they weren’t careful. Spotting individuals was not easy, from a distant essence-based point of view, though Luz knew it was possible to lock onto a familiar planeswalker’s unique signature during travel. Instead, they would perform the inverse – avoiding any brilliant blobs of soulfire that lit up the ancient world’s surface, and move from there to wherever their scouting mission took them.

The first cracks in their admittedly light-on-details plan began before the pair had even arrived.

As she fed mana and willpower into the tenuous bond between herself and the Titan, feeling it ping the enchantment it had woven about her to act as a guideline, a great wall of void seemed to rise up before them in the silvery not-light of the space between worlds. Her gut reaction was one of spiking concern – what if Phyrexia had figured out its own version of the spell used to hide the Demon Realm from unknowing passersby? The appearance was not exactly the same, seeing as reaching the Isles had been liking picking at a scab one could barely see against the rest of their flesh, but swathing an entire plane in shadows and leaving any foreign entities coming in blind was a significant hurdle.

Luz’s essence flickered, her hurtling descent slowing to something more controlled as her caution arose, and she felt more than saw Amity’s mind and soul do the same. She wasn’t certain if the flicker of concern from the other girl was real or imagined – the Blind Eternities was a strange place, where reality unfolded like the petals of a flower and the strange became norm. Regardless, the duo of adventurers approached Phyrexia’s dampened surface with a curdle of trepidation between them, even as their physical forms faded back into existence.

She’d tried to aim for the scene from her memories, the great chasm caused by a massive blast that had seemed to lance through the world to its core. Nebulous mental imagery was not much of a guarantee against being stranded in the middle of nowhere important, especially if the location in question was only the figment of a dying deity’s mind, but it was better than going in entirely blind.

They splashed down in an oily puddle, the world resolving beneath their feet in a flare of fading light, and Luz took in her first impressions of the multiverse’s once-greatest threat.

She and Amity stood ankle-deep in a mucky overflow of poisoned water, it surface shattered only by their passing boots as streams of polluted liquid flowed down the gentle incline of the depression’s lip to fill in its depths and folds. Her heel pressed down, testing the mud, only to find soil unyielding beneath her boot’s tread. A quick glance around told the mage why – below the thin coating of flaking rust combined with silty ashes was metal, thick hexagonal plates of some blackened alloy that simulated a jungle floor with a parody of organic curvature. And it was jungle, or perhaps more accurately an overgrown swamp, akin to Phyl the lich’s residence – except here the trees were spindly and inorganic, their steel branches reaching for the sky in a helpless plea for sustenance.

Opening her senses to the desiccated world around her was a mistake, because as soon as her mind made contact, rotting black mana flooded the connection. She flinched, taking a half-step back as it washed over her soul, formless and without direction. There was no semi-sentient prickling in the rear of her brain, the current of life and death and the need to enact change – only placid dominance. Nothing challenged the dark, bloated magic here – she couldn’t even make out a single speck of any other mana type for miles around.

Maybe they just didn’t exist anywhere in this place.

Cutting a glance to her similarly frozen companion, Luz felt a tiny tickling of dread as she anticipated the girl’s reaction to being surrounded by so much power – but if anything, the sickened look on Amity’s face gave her a small measure of relief that she wasn’t feeling swayed by the promise of untapped mana.

Making to place a comforting hand on Amity’s shoulder, she paused as the clouds overhead swirled vigorously, caught by some invisible stream of air as they took their corrupted rains elsewhere. A smattering of drops splashed over them, coating their cloaks and scaled armor in its inky waste before departing – only to reveal the sunless, bloody sky that enwrapped the planet’s atmosphere. No light nor stars broke through the veneer of gory red heavens, only the dim illumination of worldwide crimson providing them any bit of sight.

Luz dropped her hand back to her side, and spoke the first thing that came to mind.

“Well, this place is a dump.”

“This place is wrong.” Amity’s conviction seemed to startle even her, before she doubled down, a worried scowl marring her fair features. “I’ve never seen anything this horrible before. Is the entire world made of metal?”

“Looks like it might be, yeah.” The toe of her waterproofed boot scraped through the topsoil, revealing a dull glimmer only inches beneath.

“At least on the Isles… everything felt alive.” Shivering despite the lack of windchill, her friend moved forward, eagerly stomping towards dry land. “The magic here doesn’t taste right. There’s no balance. It’s as if…”

“Everything here is wet, squicky, and decaying.” Luz finished for her, following on the pale girl’s heels. She tried not to let the swirl of conflicted dread growing in her breast show too easily on her face.

“Exactly.”

The forest was dark by virtue of its overgrown nature – if it could even be called as such; do metal trees sprout on their own? – and it took them a few tense minutes to stumble out of its embrace into the wider world. Her head stayed on a swivel the entire time, watching between the boughs and trunks for any marauders moving to intercept them. Which was at least a little ridiculous, if Luz were honest – planeswalking was a relatively discreet kind of magic, though she knew that someone’s spark igniting could be a bit… dramatic. Regardless, her eyes tracked the woods around them as they marched towards where the simulacrum jungle seemed lightest, and not a single thing reacted to their presence.

No wildlife, barely any ‘vegetation’ – she knew they’d been aiming for the least populated space possible, but this was just silly. Where was… everything? Everyone?

After an indeterminable period of time trudging between sickly trees, passed only in silence beneath the horrid red sky, they found a groove in the earth that could have maybe been a path at one time. The only reason it wasn’t completely obscured by the wear of time, its metallic carvings pressed down into a smooth divot by wind and rain, was because the flora of Phyrexia seemed perfectly content in its static nature. No roots curled over the iron bricks, nor creepers slipped through their cracks; without the weather overhead, it seemed the world would exist without motion until it all rusted away.

Luz was disturbed, to say the least, but that didn’t stop her from walking the old trail with a determined bit of energy to her steps.

They pressed on, hands on their weapons and eyes on the oily jungle spread, until the foul plants gave way to the curve of a slippery hill – and beyond, the first sign of civilization they’d found.

A jagged black spire erupted from the metal plates without warning, almost a mile from their position, overlooking another dip in Phyrexia’s crust atop its own precipice that bordered the low valley before the pair. It looked like a twisted mockery of the skyscrapers Luz knew of her own world, but where they were blocky and firm, this monstrous construction looked only sickened. Its surface was formed from slick black metal, a warped knob of bony artifice ascending skywards to overlook the plains and greasy jungle around its base. A great cavernous opening spiraled from the center of its jagged, cubic crown, looking for all the world like a great, invasive eye glaring down at the miniscule invaders in the distance.

“Seems like we found our first goal for the moment.” Her lips seemed frightfully dry, with those words, and not even a swipe of her tongue could alleviate them. Beside her, Amity didn’t speak, only reaching over to give her hand a quick squeeze in solidarity before taking the lead without comment. Luz dogged her heels, eager to stick close as they journeyed.

Nothing interrupted them, either through crossing the girls’ path or even making any sound. No birds chirped; no squirrels skittered. Their path was absent of predators or their passing. Only the metallic groan of creaking trees echoed, every so often, encrusted in rust and swaying scraps of decayed matter.

There were no Phyrexians to be found, either. She wasn’t certain if that was a good thing.

To climb the watchtower’s reaches, they had to explore its jagged foundation before locating something akin to a door to be accessed. Really, it was more of a gaping, organic hole in the wall that sat at odds with its clearly manmade nature, but neither of them was in the mood to be picky about naming conventions.

Dusty, indistinguishable shapes littered each floor of the structure as they made their way to its peak. Luz picked one up on a whim, displacing its generous coating of red flakes as she did so, only to grimace in disgust as she beheld the corroded glass and steel of what had once been some kind of injector gauntlet. She had little idea of what it might have been actually used for, with spindly cups and braces crafted for something that had more than five fingers, but the young mage could probably guess it was nothing good. Tossing the stained thing back into the pile of scraps and medical waste that it had come from, she moved to catch up with Amity, trying not to let the play of shadows from tinted glass windows spook her too badly.

“Not gonna lie, I’m not seeing the big deal.” She broke the unnatural stillness with a bout of griping, trudging up what she hoped was the final flight of stairs behind the quiet coven deputy. “People definitely lived in this place before, but we haven’t seen a single gross monster or cackling megalomaniac since we got here. How much of this place d’you think the Titan wants us to…?”

Her question splintered on the last word as she almost ran into Amity’s stationary back, just past the edge of the ascending staircase, where the witch gazed from one enormous aerie opening towards the harsh surface far below. She shuffled past her, a bemused query just beginning to form, when she caught sight of what the other girl had spotted.

The hole piercing Phyrexia’s layers was even larger than the Titan’s distant visions, creating a crater so wide it bowed over the horizon. The closest edge of the opening kissed their conquered tower’s footprint, the blasted metal flesh of the world ripped asunder by whatever monstrous forces had decimated the plane countless years before, and it occurred to Luz that the precipice she stood upon should have been only one of many – except for the fact that its siblings had been reduced to rubble, torn asunder and flung about across the treacherous downwards funnel of buckled metal.

Just at the faint edge of where the impact zone peeled back metal plating, she could make out a gap between layers of the planetoid, where tremendous pipes and struts descended from the outer skin’s base towards parts unknown.

“Wow.” Her whisper came out hushed and awed, in spite of the undoubtedly tragic events that had led to this monument of destruction. “I can’t even imagine… what would be powerful enough to do something like that? A meteor, maybe?”

Something as simplistic and unthinking as a falling rock from the heavens didn’t seem proper, though; a basic act of divine will upon such supposedly evil beings just felt unlikely, as if the force of their will and horrible actions should bend away any unforeseen loss. Perhaps it was just dumb luck, though.

“I have no idea. But we’re going to find out.” Tone uncompromising, Amity pointed towards the epicenter of the truly enormous blast zone, her eyes full of steel and fear. “There’s construction under the earth. This entire world was made to be a fortress, just look at it – if there were anywhere their rulers might have been hiding…”

“It would be with the best protection – as far down as they could get.” Luz surmised, cupping her chin in consideration. “That’s as good a plan as any, but. Uh. How do we get down there?”

Spinning on her heel, the green-haired witch gazed about the reaches of the tower they’d climbed, moving away from the mesmerizing sight of disaster in search of answers. The human mage turned at the sound of her intrigued hum, spotting just what had caught Amity’s eye in passing.

Metallic corpses littered the unnerving structure’s uppermost floor, sagging metal bodies hidden within the depths of its crevices and protected from all but the soaring, burnt winds in its penumbral depths. She jogged to catch up with the other girl, running one curious gloved hand over the side of a flopped over body – and realized, with a startled laugh, just what she was looking at.

It was if a message from some greater power, a humorous play on coincidence that they found themselves surrounded by the darkened, motionless forms of drakes. A dozen, maybe two, of the deceased dragonkin filled the quiet tower – but they were not of flesh and blood like their prey the week before had been. Each of them was a parody of organic life, a soaring reptilian predator recast in titanium plating that remained remarkably untouched by the corrosive nature of Phyrexia’s surface. Or perhaps, she noticed with a grimace, they were not fully mechanical in nature. Dust spilled from the confines of one jagged head and she and Amity tugged at the lifeless cast metal, a tumble of disintegrating bone and ash falling from the emptied shell. They’d clearly been bred, or designed, with passengers in mind if the gaps between spinal scales were any indicator.

That was disturbing, at least in implication if not function. The fleshless, empty eye sockets of the clockwork dragons – set into headlight-esque blinders that stared emptily outwards – seemed to taunt them during their exploration.

“I…” Amity began slowly. “Have an idea.”

Her friend explained, as she rummaged around inside of an artificial dragon’s torso, some of her family’s more experimental endeavors as the forefront of Blight Industries.

“Dad’s played around with the limits on abomination construction, ever since he used to have his eye on the coven leadership.” Swiping sweat from her brow, the dust-streaked witch gratefully accepted the offer of a half-full canteen, taking a swig before returning to scraping the empty shell’s innards clean. “The current Abomination Coven head, Darius, has made a lot of progress on expanding how that kind of magic works. Teleportation, acting as a spellcasting medium, body modification…”

Amity scooted back, sweeping a handful of skeletal fragments out of the ancient carcass so that she could more easily crawl inside, inspecting the inactive drake for any faults or useful ports beneath the illumination provided by one of Luz’s werelights. They hadn’t even touched the mass of synthetic muscle or fiber optic wiring taking up half of its chest cavity, but the witch remained hopeful that it might provide some type of framework.

“But Alastor Blight’s specialty has always been changing form and function for abominations, not grafting it to himself like a mad scientist.” When she retreated from the cavernous body once more, a small, satisfied smile graced her lips. “And I was the one to help him do half of it. It was just about the one thing my mother ever really approved about my ambitions.”

“And you’re sure it’ll be able to… flap?” Came the tentative question, even as Luz glanced over the metallic war beast with fervent concern.

“Definitely. If you can’t breed mounts…” A handful of corroded wire was ripped out and tossed aside. “And you don’t own an airship…” Oozing goo slopped messily as it impacted steely walls. “Then you learn to do something in-between.”

It took them several tries to get their experiment off the ground – literally. Luz cringed every time one of their test subjects took off from the tower’s balcony, only to stall and crash to the ground in a horrendous shriek of metal that shook the structure’s base. She’d kept watch at the open bays, nervously watching the edges of the forest and the sunless, red plain of sky above it for any sign of retaliation for their lack of stealth.

There was none. Only lofty breezes smelling of burnt metal reached their hideout.

Finally, after half a dozen disastrous crashes under autonomous control, they’d found a winning combination.

A mid-sized dragon engine was located, determined to be of appropriate size, and was set upon by the pair of mages. Luz would extrude a length of living wood from her staff, drawn from it like water to the earth’s surface by her magics, providing the framework for long-dusted bones within the ancient machine. Rolling mana stones and trinkets over her palms to strengthen the connection – feeling dark magic buzz over her mind as she did so – the sapling would expand, formed into a rough simulacrum of a functioning skeleton to fill the beast’s body.

Somewhere, something divine was laughing at the irony of their attempts to resurrect a dead drake with some unholy motley of clashing spells.

Once the miniature dragon was filled to bursting with still-living woodwork, Amity would move in, flooding the remaining space with animated sludge. Purple slime scraped along wooden bones, flowing into spaces once occupied by dense musculature. The thing’s rudimentary brain formed in the skull, naturally – a much more intelligent form of abomination mixture than was commercially employed, as the witch assured her – and with the cessation of its filling, the draconic abomination was wrought into existence.

The test flight for the eighth or so construct was the one to bear fruit, being directed around the tower’s aerie with a barked command by an exhausted Amity. Its mind formed from the snatched tendrils of bonds and memories that the magic borrowed of the witch’s consciousness, the thing learned where its brethren could not, and both the take-off and dismount were made without major injury. But the witch wasn’t immediately satisfied, not until their prospective vehicle had completed a number of circuits without issue, her keen eyes tracking its progress through open air.

Perhaps something so slapdash and simplistic could not have been done anywhere else, Luz mused. Black magic was the primary source of necromancy, but just as important was that it could be used to bring other forms of life into existence. Many historic examples of artificing required some measure of dark mana to animate golems and other mobile totems. She knew Amity had been channeling a steady flow of magic into her work, the same ironclad confidence with which she plied white mana being repurposed to guide more volatile forces into the bending the world to her will.

She’d feared the allure of power for her companion, at first, but the witch had quickly proven herself more than capable of mastering her own impulses. The coven deputy was nothing like Rakdos’ sad*stic performers that pranced through Ravnica’s shadowy alleys, lunging out to shock others in displays of cruelty and adrenaline-fueled nonsense for the bloodthirsty. If anything, Amity’s behavior smacked more of Angrath’s proud countenance, or even that of the Boros guild’s enforcers – someone who knew what they wanted, and that their desire was righteous enough to follow through on it without delay or worry. It was something that had been missing from Amity’s behavior, until she’d proven herself in combat with the drake they had slew.

That force of personality was almost magnetic – and Luz had come to appreciate it in the pale witch’s company. Her cute expression of scrunched-up concentration as she worked probably helped with that, too, and –

Wow, was now really not the time to be entertaining thoughts like that. Luz’s stupid brain couldn’t figure out a better time to realize it might, possibly maybe, have an interest in her friend than on a planet that was probably slightly less hospitable than Christian Hell?

Any further spiraling panic was halted by the witch’s exclamation from beneath the dragon’s dense wingtip.

“Looks like we’re good to go!” She slid out of the construct’s reach, slapping an exposed palm against the rusty hulk’s broad expanse. The activated abomination’s enormous head swung around to observe them both with a screech of locked-up joints that would, hopefully, pass with future movements. “Is it getting dark yet? We should be able to wait until tomorrow, if it’s necessary.”

“Ah…” Wrenching her traitorous mind away from her prior musings, the mage peeked out around the rim of the balcony, taking in the unchanging sky with a blink. “I think you need a sun and a moon to have a day-night cycle. How tired are you feeling?”

“A little beat.” Amity admitted, wiping her greasy hands off on a scrap of cloth before moving to cast her cleaning spell. “But the sooner we get moving, the faster we can get out of here. It’s felt like someone stepping all over my grave since we showed up.”

“No time like the present, I suppose.” Her staff reacted beneath her warm grip, shuddering as it ejected a splinter that swelled into a ropey bundle of cordage under the influence of her magics. It would make as good a rein as any for the abomination-drake.

They’d just re-armed and armored themselves, nestling in between the mechanical beast’s central spine-plates, when something occurred to Luz.

“Oh! Wait a sec!”

A moment’s effort at the construct’s skull had her stepping back, and their mount swung its great head towards Amity with a snap of the pale witch’s fingers. The other girl quirked a single brow at her addition to the voids of its eye sockets.

“Really, Luz? Headlights?”

“Hey, you don’t know how dark it’ll be down there.” Came the defense, even as the human mage mounted up a second time. “Better to be prepared.”

She enwrapped the witch from behind to secure her position, handing off the reins to her companion. Luz tried to press down the tiny surge of guilty pleasure at the warmth and closeness of their contact, a feeling that only niggled at her belly all the harder when Amity’s amused chuckle vibrated through their shared space. She’d get over this stupid thought eventually.

“Whatever you say, I guess.”

Without delay, the vines snapped her grip, stinging the metallic hide of their creation harmlessly and driving it forward. The young planeswalker couldn’t resist whooping in a combination of elation and terror as the monstrous drake tore from the aerie into open skies, winging its way towards their goal:

The crater of whatever had ended Phyrexia’s reign of terror across the stars.

Chapter 25

Chapter Text

They descended into the world’s core, two planeswalkers and their golem mount, spiraling downwards in a lazy, drifting arc that took them beneath Phyrexia’s metal skin.

Meters of warped, reinforced metal making up the surface’s crust passed by them in a mountainous slope, the ancient remnants of a steel landslide that had followed in the wake of whatever burrowed towards the plane’s center. The only thing Luz could compare it to was a Russian nesting doll from back home, its numerous layers of painted woodcraft drilled through by a sizable auger as a part of some destructive experiment. Except in this case, the peeled remains of each sphere were hundreds of feet thick, struck through with hexagonal plating and mammoth girders that dwarfed the skyscrapers of urban Earth in their scale.

Their drake couldn’t simply pull into a dive and rip them down into the bowels of the planet – their entry point was too uneven, despite its immense scale. Whatever had rent Phyrexia’s flesh asunder had done so haphazardly; even from their vantage point thousands of feet above the next segment of once-inhabited plating, Luz could tell that the following section of tearing through the second layer was made so in a completely differing shape and size.

Gears began to turn in her mind as she took in that fact, but there was no concrete suspicion to follow, not yet. She and Amity had barely even broken the surface of the mystery that was the Titan’s ancestral foe.

It was in the open void between the uppermost crust and its adjacent sibling that Amity perked up, her eyes straining in the firelit darkness that made up the blasted segment of the second sphere. With a twist of the reins, their beast spun out of its controlled descent, flapping noisily towards what the witch’s keen eyes had caught a glimpse of beyond the precipice of destroyed terrain. Whatever it was, Luz couldn’t make out its silhouette in the permeating dark of the plane’s underworld – the occasional belch of flames and smoke from building-sized smokestacks did little to illuminate the sunless cavern’s expanse.

Rooting through her pack with one hand, the mage rolled some of the craggy bits of mana stones and trinkets she kept through her palm, brow creased in thought. Maybe she could…?

By the time they’d landed before a jagged black outcropping of a structure, its unyielding stone walls backlit by the glow of distant furnaces, Luz had pulled on enough green and blue mana to rush together a makeshift night vision spell, derived from the multitude of sense enhancements she was more familiar with. It cast the metallic blackstone of the fort in stark greys and whites, where fading orange fire failed to fill out its crevasses, and allowed to her make out the same details that Amity had spotted.

Tattered rust and metallic scraps ground beneath their boots as the duo passed beneath the entrance arch, their target silent as the grave. Something like bulbs lined the wall, but if they were once intended to illuminate the interior of the fortification, their time had long since passed. Alcoves split from the main hall, threading off into branching arteries just as dark as the building’s heart.

The only sounds Luz could pick up, beyond her beating heart, was the distant whoosh of stacks belting out fumes and ash, the vents of an unseen machine far beneath them.

It took them some investigation before the young mage stumbled across the building’s purpose, entirely by accident, when her booted heel sent a fragment of dulled steel tumbling over the craggy stonework. Cringing at the clatter that broke their stillness, Luz mouthed a silent ‘Sorry’ towards Amity, who had tossed her a disbelieving glare at the sound. Stooping to pick up whatever her toe had dislodged, she paused, turning the bladed head over in her hand before tracking its resting place with her modified sight.

Following the crumbling trail of iron splinters, she turned a corner, and found… enormous batteries? Old, rusted cylindrical hulks, their delicate filaments and iron-banded caps long since warped with their glass sides turned to shards and dust. And just beside them, a rotten crate, holding a bandolier of corroded metal that draped from its interior like a limp tongue.

She returned to Amity with her find, handing her the chunk of an old crossbow bolt that had made so much noise.

“I think they stored ammo here. What for, I don’t know. Maybe ships or something? The Titan wasn’t very specific on the kinds of tech that these people used, when they were on the warpath.”

“It’s possible, certainly.” Amity turned over Luz’s find before tossing it to the side, gesturing for her companion to follow her to a nearby staircase. “Let’s get to the roof – I want to confirm something I thought I saw out there.”

The steps wound tightly about themselves, ascending skywards, onto a narrow balustrade exposed to the fouled air of Phyrexia’s underlayers. They shuffled out from beneath the shadowed alcove, gazing into the distance towards massive, belching furnace heads and squat, misshapen buildings dotting the horizon.

“My vision and hearing have always been pretty good – it’s part of why I’ve worked so closely with the Emperor’s Scout Corps for as long as I have.” Amity gestured towards one of the far-off lumps, the iridescent scales of her gauntlet faintly catching the distant flame’s reflection. “And if my eyes aren’t lying to me, then there’s at least a dozen more of these buildings in that direction. And that’s only what we can see from here, or in the air.”

Luz’s mouth felt as if it were full of cotton, just then. There was an entire world beyond their vantage point, curving out of sight, a plane within a plane by all accounts – plenty of space for anything and everything to be lying in wait.

“That’s… that’s a lot of bullets and bolts they had here.”

Amity nodded.

“And this structure was mostly empty. That ammunition was used, or moved, years ago. There’s enough storage room on this layer alone to arm…”

To arm an entire world, she didn’t say. But she didn’t really have to.

“…Let’s keep moving. We’re burning daylight – er, you know what I mean.”

They returned to the dragon engine without a word. The silence wisped at their heels as the girls passed, unbroken but for the great bursts of gases and smoke they could just barely spot, miles away.

Another sphere of Phyrexia passed by in their travel downwards, its contents plucking at Luz’s thoughts like a surreal piece of art. The third skin of the world was a crazed maze of piping and vents, monstrously sized ductwork packed tightly together in zigzagging strips running from layer to layer that left her feeling like they’d cut into the plane’s very veins. Even with the crater being miles wide, they found no opening large enough to exploit amongst the tangle that would have allowed for the drake to slip through with them. Neither girl was eager to abandon their only transportation at any point, regardless of how peaceful the journey had been thus far.

They did alight upon one dangerously curved edge of the blast zone, if only for posterity’s sake, to say that they’d given exploration in this portion of the world a chance. Luz dismounted the artificial creature with a whuff of breath, pulling out of her crouch to inspect the nearest bit of piping as Amity kept watch, her head on a constant, paranoid swivel at the mage’s back.

Metallic tubing was left unmarred by the passage of time, whatever selection of alloy the Phyrexians had chosen proving more able to weather passing dust and winds than the expendable examples of their works, like the battered equipment the girls had found far above. Rune-carved steel passed under Luz’s light testing, unyielding before her gloved hand and warm to the touch. Whatever chugged along far below, whether it be machinery or more chaotic thermal venting, it still delivered its payload towards the surface through the arcane stretch of artifice before them.

She traced the ground-out curves of alien lettering with her finger, feeling the buzz of low-level magic humming within. It plucked at her senses, leaving the mage feeling leaden and dour, as if her feet could never lift off the ground again. Pulling her hand away, the itching touch of enchantment thankfully faded, taking the oppressive sensation with it.

Casting a doubtful glance towards the impenetrable forest of pipework beyond, boggling at the scale of the industry that it must have taken to produce such a monstrosity, Luz returned to the drake so that they could continue their passage into the center of the shattered world.

Not even vermin scuttled between the thrumming tubes as she and Amity left.

After the passing of an uncertain quantity of time, they fell into the fourth eggshell of Phyrexia, and there the duo began to finally see proper signs of sentient occupation.

The monstrous drake twirled around jutting smokestacks and twisted spires reaching into the sky, a dark reflection of a sprawling city found in its jagged precipices. If she squinted and tilted her head, Luz could just make out the simulacrum of a functioning metropolis amongst the jumble, broad pathways for passing vehicles and warbeasts replacing narrow corridors that one would expect from human civilization. Structures varied wildly in size and height, their footprints filled out into whatever crazed shapes could be made to fit amongst the overgrown clutter. Here and there, ancient machinery still struggled along, mindless belches of heat and gases filling the air with the stench of burning sulfur.

It was here that they began to find something of an answer as to Phyrexia’s pervasive silence, as well.

Soaring past towering laboratories mingling with unwelcoming habitation blocks, they followed a trail of destruction that led away from the crater’s sundered edges, a snail’s path of ragged and shattered construction leading into the zone’s darkened heart. Amongst toppled buildings and mountains of dust mingling with ruined scrap, Luz pointed out the towering silhouette of something alien between the piles of debris, shouting to be heard over the wind.

“Down there! It looks like something other than a building!”

She felt Amity nod from their closely pressed forms, and the witch tugged at their mount’s lead, sending it into as gentle a landing as the clunky thing could manage. Metal shrieked and buckled under the impact on the nearest thoroughfare, the artificial drake tumbling to an uncertain stop so that its riders could investigate the area more thoroughly.

Grotesque, organic structures surrounded them on all sides, shot through with rivulets of magma welling up from deep within Phyrexia’s unnatural core. No two fortifications look the same, their only uniformity found in the inhuman planning that had once wrought them into being; chitin and metal swirled together to give the impression of great, barnacled growths suckered into the base of the world itself. Tendons and bones draped from the heavens above or rose up to meet them, guy wires for great erections of arcane construction that swayed in the ragged breeze billowing in the wake of poisonous smokestacks.

But in the gap between hellish outcroppings and massive, bubbling vats of toxic sludge, sat a foreign remnant strewn amidst of the damages brought to bear upon the world.

The great, humanoid vehicle’s co*ckpit was blasted outwards, sundered by some cataclysmic failure within the eldritch machinery that had once powered its countless servos and gears. Hunched shoulders provided a frame for hulking gunmetal grey limbs, bristling with countless cannons and emptied racks of missiles. It towered over the shortest of the buildings in the impromptu square, easily several stories high, laid across a trio of collapsed towers like a fallen, avenging angel.

“Whatever this is…” Amity stepped forward to examine one immense clawed foot, taking in the masterwork of artifice that had once clearly arrayed itself against Phyrexian opposition, deep within their world’s hidden sanctuaries. “It certainly did a number on this part of the plane. Even more of the city was flattened, past this point. But…”

The witch hesitated, leaving Luz to finish the uncomfortable, incomplete thought.

“It looks like it was sabotaged, instead of brought down.”

Not to say that there were no signs of combat, given where they were. Luz lifted her boot from the inches-thick carpet of ash littering the impact site, eyeballing the massive, flame-scorched nozzle attached to one of the machine’s limbs with a bit of dread tightening her throat. Just how many people had died to this thing, Phyrexian or not, before it was stopped?

“Yes. Which begs the question – who had the power to do something like that, to a war machine this huge?”

“I don’t know. But, Amity…” The mage turned her head from boulevard to empty boulevard, looming like ghosts of the past – silent and eerie on all sides. “I think – I think this place is done for. Not just this city. Maybe – maybe even the entire world.”

She’d explored ancient ruins, in her time amongst the stars. The Gruul and the Kor were no strangers to plundering prehistoric structures in search of treasure and resources, an activity she’d partaken in while pursuing a childish sense of curiosity about the whole thing. And for all that they’d found below the surfaces of those worlds, for good or ill, they had never been as empty as Phyrexia.

Not a single specimen of sentient life had greeted their search, or moved in the distance. There was no fauna to speak of, and the only examples of plant life were static and unmoving in their cradles. Barely any airflow penetrated the lower depths, motivated only by the tumbling of mindless, purposeless machinery presumably abandoned. Standing structures were left untouched to decay and crumble to pieces, with not a bit of repairs or replacement in sight.

As far as the young mage could tell, Phyrexia had died long ago, and not a soul cared enough to return.

Amity didn’t immediately respond, clearly disturbed by the implications, even as she continued prodding the refuse left behind by ancient battles. A flick of her wrist, grasping the drawn length of her blade, sent a cascade of rubble down the side of a battered concrete mound – only to unearth a bleached skull of some alien beast, its fanged maw glaring down at them, motionless in its death throes. Her companion took an involuntary step back, eyes running over the revealed grave and the other bits of exposed, calcified remains amongst the ruins.

“I think you might be right.” Her whisper was just audible, over the haunting whistle of far-off winds, and the pale witch shook her head as she returned to the drake’s patiently waiting form. “We should keep moving. It doesn’t seem like there’s much else to find here.”

A final sweep of the area before they left revealed little else of import, the unknowable arcane purpose of rusted construction rendered inoperable by the passage of time. They walked amongst long-shattered glass tanks and cooled vats of sludge, their bubbling green contents shot through with fallen grime and left to inactivity. Surgical equipment and training fields littered their path back to the rim of the crater, full of broken, worthless items and the occasional hint of a fallen alien warrior.

Only one object stood out to Luz, as they retreated from the battered city. They’d turned the corner of a single crumbling avenue, Amity in the lead with drake following loyally behind, when Luz spun her head around on a whim and caught sight of a tremendous spoked wheel, ripped from its cradle and leaning against a nearby tower. Nothing stirred as she slowly approached, looking over the spiked ring in its final resting place, tracking a trail of wires and crystalline dust in its wake, ripped free of the building-sized base that once hoisted it. The glittering teeth of a metallic grinder straddled its footprint, fragments of copper and steel still trapped in its maw.

“Luz?” Startling the human mage from her examination, she turned to face Amity, the other girl wearing an expression of weary concern. “Did you find something?”

“…No.” Shaking her head, the girl stepped away from the downed artifice, giving the monstrously sized metallic hoop one last glance. “We’re good to go.”

Remounting their reconstructed dragonkin, the girls took wing, returning to the vertical shaft formed by Phyrexia’s destruction. Luz kept her eyes trained on the shrinking form of the great ring she’d uncovered, pondering its mysteries – and was caught by surprise by the flash of distant lightning amongst a swell of growing clouds. The bolt illuminated the black city below, and for an instant, the mage could make out the forlorn forms of countless other portals, their jagged shapes strung between spiked towers with malevolent promise laid dormant – and then the flare of light passed, leaving the fourth sphere in darkness once more.

Wind howled, buckling beneath the formation of oily thunderheads at their heels.

From the moment they broke through the layer of lingering smog that choked the ‘skies’ of the lower layer, Amity had stayed tense against Luz’s embrace, her shoulders set and ears twitching with nerves as they flew towards the ground miles below. The witch didn’t seem able to verbalize what, exactly, had twinged her trained senses, leaving her friend to simply shrug and promise to keep a sharp eye out for an approaching trouble.

Not that Luz really expected something like that, at the current point in their journey.

Beyond the crater’s continuing expanse of carnage, a basin of sorts formed around the impact point, the natural swell of metallic soil into hills melding with upturned, buckled plates to isolate the incredible damage from the remainder of the world’s fifth layer. Because of this, the tremendous sea of lapping, frothing black liquid that filled the entire zone still existed, prevented from tumbling into the abyss below by sundered hexagonal plating. Islands rose from the ocean of ooze, offering bursts of sanctuary between cresting swells of unsettling fluid that washed across the land. The massive tarpit seemed to greedily consume any light falling upon it, leaving only Luz’s werelights set into the drake’s skull offering any significant illumination, beyond the scant red rays filtering down past jagged shards ringing the tear in Phyrexia’s core.

Black mana surfed over the waves, lethargic and predatory, casting a supernatural pall across the entire layer.

“Hey, Amity -” The coven deputy jolted in her seat, leaving Luz to wince at the reaction, mumbling a brief apology before pressing forward. “We’ve been at this for most of the day. You think it’s time to take a break, maybe grab a bite to eat and get some sleep?”

She could clearly see the other girl warring with her instincts, glaring at the writhing sea below even as her eyelids fought not to droop too deeply. The green-haired witch growled under her breath, shaking off the stupor of exhaustion long enough to give her friend a tired nod.

“I guess we should. Let’s make for one of those islands down there, we can set up a camp on dry ground.”

Her tension, however, only ratcheted higher as the trio set down on worn metal. The islet they’d chosen was decently sized, leaving enough space that the reanimated drake could maneuver itself if necessary, while still being small enough that there was little room for any hidden surprises to linger. Admittedly, with the entire outcropping being bare of even the smallest form of life besides themselves, Luz figured they would be secure on that front. But… better safe than sorry.

They took a seat around the modest campfire the human mage constructed, setting a molten ball of witchfire to smolder as replacement for the dried tinder they lacked in such a barren space. A few aggressive stamps of her heel failed to properly soften the cold ground in its wake, prompting Amity to step forward, summoning a torrent of semi-liquid abomination sludge to act as makeshift padding, before siphoning off the slick remainder into a pair of goopy guards she sent absentmindedly patrolling their perch.

It was a pleasant surprise when Luz pressed her naked palm into the thin mat of purple goop, only to find it plush and unable to stick to her skin. Settling in on the impromptu seating, the mage retrieved a handful of preserved meats and vegetables from her seemingly bottomless pack – seriously, Eda had some explaining to do when they returned to the Demon Realm – before starting a pot to boil for a modest stew.

Poor lighting, coupled with an oppressive quiet broken only by the swishing of gentle waves, was beginning to wear on Luz’s nerves as she spooned steaming soup into her ravenous gut. The silent bobbing of werelights provided little relief from either, the darkened metal ground soaking up any remnants of illumination that escaped the great, bubbling sea beyond. Every so often, the drake’s line of sight would wash over them as it patrolled the small atoll, bringing a brief burst of shine like a lighthouse amidst a raging storm before turning away, its blind eyes roving oily tides. Amity was not much better – she seemed horribly spooked by their surroundings, more so than any of the previous spheres they’d examined that day, her confidence gone in the face of whatever her instincts told her was waiting in the dark.

Bravely, Luz attempted to strike up a conversation, perhaps in the hope of providing some comfort for her anxious friend.

“So, Amity…” She graciously ignored the other girl’s startled flinch at being addressed, giving her a moment to orient properly before continuing. “You said something earlier about helping your dad out with his abomination spells? What kind of work did he have you doing for that?”

Her companion relaxed a bit, some of the tension in her posture loosening with a welcome distraction, and a small grin stole over the witch’s face with the thought of happier times.

“Well, as Blight Industries is one of the leaders in abomination design and production, my father is in charge of research and development. As such, he would usually keep me on hand to help test new construction methods, or spar with his creations to see if they were combat-ready.” A shadow briefly flickered across her expression. “Mother is the head of marketing and finances. The rest of work with the company comes from dad and I, besides the other people we employ.”

“And you make – what, servants? Guards?” Her head tilted to the side in curiosity at the thought – it wasn’t unheard of for artificers to craft golems that would protect themselves and their more delicate works.

“Guards… and soldiers. One of our – their – biggest sectors is private security.” Grimacing at the self-correction, Amity averted her eyes for a second. “The Emperor has not always approved of citizens arming themselves like that in the past. These days, the lower quality models are sold for home defense, while the more powerful units go to the Coven or other agencies that need protection.”

Luz squinted at the pale girl, a tangle of thoughts bubbling to the surface as a few pieces clicked into place.

“It sounds like you don’t think you’re a part of your parents’ company anymore. And -” A conversation from weeks ago arose from the murk, leaving her blinking in consideration. “I think Gus mentioned you had some siblings before? Don’t they help you guys out with abomination stuff?”

Amity wilted a bit at the questions, her eyes sunken with exhaustion.

“Dad was never as ambitious as my mother.” The words seemed to pain her on the way out. “If he was concerned with status and money, it was in a more general sense than having a particular goal in mind. She, however…did. And it was not to be a ‘lackey’ for the Emperor.” She could practically see the air quotes hanging around the statement. “As for Edric and Emira – I haven’t heard from them in months.”

The witch curled in closer to herself, clutching her bowl of goulash tightly.

“My mother said they were too busy to speak, after I graduated Hexside. Something about training for their ‘roles in the family,’ and that they didn’t have time to spend on someone who couldn’t get their priorities straight.”

“That sounds like a load of garbage, to me.” Amity glanced up in shock at the forceful counterstatement, meeting Luz’s unyielding expression. “Were you guys really that distant from each other? I have a hard time believing siblings would just… drop each other like that.”

It sounds, Luz very carefully didn’t say, like your mom is a nasty, lying bruja that doesn’t appreciate you for who you are.

“I thought so too.” She shifted in place, meeting the mage’s soft brown eyes with her own unflinching stare. “But if that’s the case, then where are they? Why haven’t they – written, or called, or – or anything for so long?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never met them. But, if they’re anything like you, Amity, then I’m confident that they’re wonderful, intelligent people.” Sitting back from her tensed hunched, Luz dropped her empty dinner utensils to the side. “Just sounds like they haven’t gotten the chance to prove it, yet.”

She didn’t receive a response, the other girl burning a hole through the side of her wooden dining ware with a modest blush stinging her cheeks at the compliment. While Luz’s comment seemed to have settled her fears, somewhat, the conversation had failed to lighten any of the load hanging over both of their heads, leaving the human planeswalker to let out an exasperated sigh. At Amity’s look of slight confusion, she only shook her head.

“Okay. So. All that did was bring up depressing stuff. How about, um…” What could they talk about – magic? The deputy commander’s job? Clawthorne sister gossip? It felt like all of those were likely to stumble right back into unknown territory.

Hmm. What about…

“School! Let’s talk about school.” Catching Amity’s wince, she cut the witch off before she could protest. “Up bup bup, wait a sec – I don’t mean all of that bad blood in the water between you and Willow and Gus. I already know you guys have got some deal going on, and I’m not going to pry.” For the moment, anyway. She couldn’t deny her burning curiosity. “I mean, do you have any funny stories, or maybe classes you really liked – what about college? I don’t even know if witches have secondary education like that, nobody’s bothered to tell me.”

“Ah – well, technically there are universities after high school.” Relieved at the avoidance of yet another tender topic, Amity was happy to follow the tail of a less-offensive thread of discussion. “There aren’t many, and they tend to specialize in a single coven’s magics, due to legal requirements under Emperor Belos’ reign. Besides that, there’s apprenticeships, which is a legal version of what Willow is doing with the Owl Lady…”

Slowly, Luz managed to bleed the remainder of Amity’s discomfort with her endless tirade of questions and thoughts on the education system of the Boiling Isles. Its basic structure was remarkably similar to the American schooling hierarchy, though there were a few points of deviation – such as the lumping of numerous grades of students together, due to their overall smaller size when accounting for the Isles’ population. Even in a small town like Gravesfield, there were more than enough children present to warrant the typical separation of younger generations of learners into smaller subcategories. Whereas Luz had spent most of her time in the system with only one or two other grades around her own, Amity was much more used to encountering even very young witches and demons in the halls of Hexside.

“When we get back to the Demon Realm, I’ll have to see if I can sneak in a tour for you.” Amity sighed, clearly reminiscing of her time in the hallowed halls of Bonesborough’s primary school. “For someone as crazy about learning and teaching magic like you, it ought to be interesting.”

“Actually, I got to see some of it when Willow and Gus were around – they took me to visit their human club on campus. But…” She continued before disappointment could set in, a sly grin on her face. “I didn’t get to poke around in the abomination wing of the school. I’d love to experience that, if you’d still be interested…?”

“Of course.” The witch shot her a small smile of her own. She’d finally let her guard down, no longer darting nervous glances at the lapping seaside tides every so often, her eyes only for Luz in the moment. “It would be my pleasure.”

We’ll call it a date, then, the mage nearly said, just barely managed to strangle the semi-joking retort before it could leave her lips.

That kind of thing, it just – right now, it wasn’t appropriate. She didn’t know if it ever would be, really, besides in the realm of jokes. A part of her was too frightened to figure it out.

Of course, now the thought was bubbling in her subconscious, just asking to escape – and she let some of it slip with a thoughtless comment as they continued speaking in low tones.

“Wait, wait, wait – so you’re telling me you guys have Grom, an annual school dance, but you don’t know what prom is in the Human Realm?” She couldn’t stifle her giggles at the thought, eyeing Amity dubiously as the witch raised her hands in surrender.

“I swear to you, I have never heard of anything like that for humans before today. And the tradition goes back at least as far to Hexside’s founding.” Some of her own amusem*nt leaked through, her brows and lips quirking in a tangle of confused laughter at the statement. “How could that even be a coincidence, though? Are you sure it wasn’t witches being copied here?”

“Maybe.” Luz chuckled, shaking her head at the thought. “I mean, let’s see – we have music, food and dancing; getting your date is always a big deal, so many people make a huge show out of it; all the teachers get roped into chaperoning for it and most of them look like you kicked their dog the entire time…”

“It certainly sounds like Grom, at any rate.” Amity squinted at Luz, a curious tilt to her head as she considered the girl before her. “Do you have to fight a dangerous demon before the party, though? I would assume not, seeing as your world doesn’t seem to have much of anything that I would consider ‘normal’ on it.”

She laughed at the suggestion, throwing her head back in mirth at the joke – only to come up short at the serious look on the cove deputy’s face after her query.

“Hold on, you, uh… weren’t kidding about that?”

“No.” Enjoyment fleeing her expression, Amity’s lips turned down in a fanged grimace. “The name of the event comes from ‘Grometheus,’ the nightmare demon that was bound underneath Hexside. Every year, a student – the elected Grom King or Queen – has to beat him back into slumber, lest Grom escape and wreak havoc on the township.”

She took in the return of the witch’s defeated posture, the way she shied from attention beside the campfire, and came to the obvious conclusion.

“You were Grom Queen one year, weren’t you?”

“Yes. It…” Amity stared into the wicking fire, her face left carefully blank, but the façade failed to fool her human companion. “It went – poorly. Very much so.”

Before melancholy could close the gap, Luz leapt back into the stuttering conversation, palming the base of her skull as she spoke in a rush.

“The worst thing I had to deal with for prom was finding a date. I had a bit of a rep, y’know, after all of my unique art projects and bringing snakes to school. Stuff like that.” She rambled through some of the best and worst of her time in the education system, intentionally skimming the details of how lonely those days had been, without the friends she’d come to love at her side. “And that meant finding a date was gonna be practically impossible. So… I made a list. Of everyone in my grade! And I went down it, one by one.”

“…Your entire class?” Amity seemed to hone back into the discussion, a bit of interest filling her gaze once more, and encouraged Luz to keep speaking.

“Yup. First, I tried the guys, but uh, they weren’t too keen on it. Most of them had an eye on other assets than what the skinny weird girl had, if you know what I mean.” She gave a nervous chuckle, tapping sweating fingertips together. “Then there were the other girls in my grade. Most of them had boyfriends, so they already weren’t too interested, and…”

Luz’s train of thought screeched to a halt as she realized just what, exactly, she’d admitted to a friend who she was growing closer to every day. Picking up ‘signals’ from others had never been her forte, a fact proven time and time again from every faltering attempt she’d made at anything romantic – hell, that was why there’d been just enough distance between Domri Rade and herself that she hadn’t followed him right into the dragon’s trap, on Ravnica – and she had no point of reference for Amity’s preferences.

But the witch had clearly caught the implication of her blathered words, and perked up at the statement, an indiscernible expression crossing her features.

“You asked the other girls out, too?”

Oh, mierda.

“Ah – yeah. I… I did. Yes.” There was no reason to be afraid of who she was. Luz had always held a strong understanding of her own interests regarding attraction, and that wouldn’t change, even if Amity didn’t approve. Not for anyone.

But the small, hopeful part of her heart that said Maybe there’s something here if you just try prayed Luz wouldn’t have to make that choice, even if it wasn’t something the witch accepted.

Amity didn’t say anything for a long moment, seeming uncertain about where to look, before meeting the mage’s eyes once more. Her golden irises seemed unusually intense as they shared eye contact.

“You know, I never actually went to Grom with a date.” The statement seemed nonsequitur, almost rudely abrupt, but it was clear from the coven commander’s tone that her words were of great import.

“You didn’t?” Her throat seemed a little drier than she’d thought.

“No. I suppose…” Her line of sight roamed over Luz’s hunched form, then – not crude in its passing, but intentionally blatant. “I just wasn’t brave enough to ask the right person, in the end. If there even was one at the time.”

“…Ah.” Luz refused to let her traitorous, stupid thoughts jump to any conclusions, even as the possible implication of Amity’s words rung through her mind. It seemed like the mouthful of cotton balls had returned, and left her licking lips in an attempt to force her speech into motion once more.

Whatever it was that her friend had intended her words to be – an admission of sorts, perhaps – it seemed to rouse her from the half-asleep stupor they’d fallen into as they rested, and the pale witch moved to set out her sleeping bag.

“I think it’s about time we get to bed. We still haven’t even found rock bottom for this place yet.” Just when Luz’s heart threatened to jump into her throat, a bit of fear over Amity’s abruptness rising to the fore, her companion graced her with another small grin. “Thanks for the distraction, Luz. I appreciate it.”

“No problem, Amity.” Her surge of concern assuaged, the mage turned to her own tightly bundled roll, pulling it apart and settling the cloth padding into the mat of abomination goo they’d placed upon the ground. Falling back into its bulky coverage, stripped of her thicker travel-wear and armor, she let the soothing sounds of slopping, oily resin lull her into a doze.

Absentmindedly, she reached out with her senses, letting the wash of placid black magic pull her into slumber. It was so peaceful, for such dark mana. Gently caressing her mind unlike the wild and ferocious pull of a vicious swamp, tugging the young planeswalker into deeper dreams, leaving her melting into her sleeping arrangements with a sigh…

It could’ve been minutes or eons later when she felt desperate fingers grasping her thin tunic, shaking the groggy girl out of the descent into a dark, uninterrupted dreamland, sound popping back into her perception with a sharp fizz.

“-uz! Luz! You have to get up now!”

“Huhwuh… Amity?” She fumbled around for something to physically anchor her half-asleep mind, anything, and found her crumpled pack beside their camp. Frantic hands pulled her over in a tumble before she could grab onto anything solid, the witch’s shouts bordering full-on panic as she dragged Luz up the soft slope of the metal beach.

“You have to burn it, it won’t stop coming!”

The disoriented planeswalker rolled out of the sleeping bag, kicking it free as Amity tugged her to her feet, and she could just barely discern a dark outline from her blurry vision, slithering up the shore towards their resting place.

Her response was more instinct than thought, adrenaline spiking her veins with enough red mana through the haze of lapping black magic that a bolt of flames spat towards the incoming mass. She swiped the crust from her eyes, blinking groggily as her fire ate away at the thing approaching them –

Only for her heart to leap into her throat as she realized two things. First, it wasn’t any slimy creature or oozing monstrosity moving towards the girls, it was the sea itself, inching over metal plating as it encroached upon her sleeping bag and pack. Secondly – and much more frighteningly – it receded from the retort of her molten bolt as it descended, separating from the mass being burned to a crisp before continuing its inexorable advance.

The ocean wasn’t just mobile, it was aware, and the tendrils of sickly oil were homing in on their shrinking position.

A fan of panicked fire swept from her palms over the beach, crisping fingers of glistening liquid and leaving Luz just enough room to lunge forward, snag her equipment, and cram it together into whatever opening was available on the pack before scuttling backwards. Amity did the same, her pale face streaked with frightened sweat in the sole light of their dwindling campfire, a sharp whistle ringing from her lips for their drake to retrieve them.

“I-I tried to distract it with the abominations…” Her voice shook as they scrambled up over the dragon’s back, watching the slow creep of malicious oil over the berm they’d sheltered on. “It didn’t even stop, it just ate them, t-there’s something wrong with them -”

Luz took the lead, grabbing their mount’s reins and sending it forward into a winging charge that had them flying off the shrinking island, feeling Amity cling onto her back for dear life. The susurrus of black mana that had lulled her into false security seemed to hiss and scrape against her subconscious now, its malevolence kicked up in the wake of the failed ambush. Even their near-mindless drake construct seemed agitated, its faux-muscles pressing them all vigorously into the sky with a determined beat, leaving the engulfed islet behind them in their haste.

Foggy with sleep, clutching the dragon engine’s scales in a low-slung hunch, Luz almost missed the sight of Amity's abomination against the hungry advance of the dark oil tides. It stood there, motionless, as black veins crept through the purple miasma that made up its body. Limbs drooped and shoulders slumped as the construct’s form fell apart, but its brainless yellow eyes never left their backs, even as its face was swallowed by darkness.

She tried to not focus on the cold shiver that ran down her spine at the sight, and instead urged the drake on more harshly into the blackened air.

The human mage didn’t know how long it took them to flee downwards, into the gaping wound in Phyrexia’s flank, hurtling into the sixth sphere’s skies with the reckless abandon of pursued prey. The atmosphere of the adjacent layer filled its false heavens with an empty expanse of white, dirtied parchment bordering the dull grey horizon with its stain, starkly outlining the great metallic construction of additional native occupations. Rolling hills stretched away from the ragged crater, coated in what seemed like fine hairs that swayed in a breeze blessedly free of burning metal and chemicals for once. But Luz didn’t aim for any of that, instead opting for the nearest patch of cleared terrain around the rumpled border of steel soil and the yawning hole that had torn the world asunder.

They all but crashed into the sheared field, landing haphazardly as her control of the drake gave way to gravity. It was a long few seconds before she could unclench her hands enough to dismount, an action made all the harder by Amity’s terrified clinging to her back. The horrible realization of her paranoia from their entrance into the fifth layer seemed to have badly startled her, and the other girl seemed unwilling to leave her companion’s side for the moment, eyes wide and ringed with dark bruises from her exhaustion.

“Okay, lemme just – just check the area around here.” Luz bit back a yawn, the fear of the last hour or so receding in the wake of her desire for uninterrupted sleep, even as she turned to face the distant fields of swaying silica grass. “Need to make sure there’s no more of that goo anywhere…”

“It didn’t touch you, did it? You’re not soaked anywhere?” Jumping a bit as gloved hands patted down her shoulders and flanks, the human mage spun to face the frantic witch.

“Amity – Amity. I’m fine. You got to me just in time, see?” She grasped her friend’s shoulders, ignoring the dampness soaking the other girl’s cloak. She looked awful, clothes shot through with wrinkles and sweat, eyes bloodshot in the baleful light from above.

“I need to make sure. Hold still.” Magic fizzled over their forms, the coven witch’s scouring charm ripping dirt and dust from each of their bodies and outfits in a wave that almost had Luz jumping at the discomforting sensation. Finally taking a moment to breathe, Amity stepped back, her posture sagging. “Alright. I think we’re good for now.”

“Okay. So.” Luz eyed the other girl, taking in the relief crossing her drawn features. “What do you think would have happened if that stuff touched us?”

“It’s – I don’t know. It was just. Bad.” She steadied her shaking hands with another bracing breath, finally stripping her additional layers as they slumped against the drake’s side in tandem. “I saw it moving, just past the campfire, and – and suddenly I was staring down a charging Slitherbeast. I just knew I couldn’t let it get us. It’s probably what I was smelling when we landed.”

“You… smelled the water?”

“Not water. Oil.” Amity shook her head as she corrected the human mage. “It was like someone stuffed rotting meat up my nose. I could hear it moving all night, I could smell it from all the way up in the sky, it was like my skin was trying to crawl off my bones. Just – awful.”

“Okay, okay. I believe you.” She patted the witch’s heaving shoulder comfortingly, drawing her into a one-armed hug. “But… just try to relax. We’re in the clear, for now.”

“Not yet, we are.” Arm jerking, Amity sketched out a rough spell circle, her free hand slicing through it with an overlapping ring that split it into half a dozen glowing hoops. With a flick of her fingers, the magic resolved itself, and six abominations swelled into being around them.

“Secure this area. Don’t let anything moving approach us.” There was steel in her voice, steel and fear. The golems shuffled away without a single groan between them.

When no reports of alien life or sounds of combat reached them, after lengthy minutes of silence, the girls set about reestablishing their base camp. Their sudden flight had drained them of any lingering reserves, and so they reset spells and summons without another spoken word, this time adding their own assortment of magical tripwires and runes to the preparations in case of another ambush.

They huddled on an abomination mat up against the resting drake’s metal hide, makeshift stakes tying down a spare sheet in conjunction with the beast’s wing to shade them from the glaring pearl sky far above, its sunless expanse offering no respite from the brightness. Luz didn’t comment or argue when Amity dragged their sleeping bags next to each other, barely a few inches apart, too exhausted and strung out to even consider anything remotely joking or romantically-inclined by the action.

Harsh whiteness seared through the corners of their slapdash tent, chasing them into a restless slumber, curled against one another’s side through bulky fabric below the expanse of a draconic metal appendage.

Dreams came and went, perturbed by the events of the day, more akin to nightmares than anything else. It wasn’t the molded dreamscape of the Titan’s will, but it was still more than unformed nightly visions, perhaps spurred by the umbral power that enwrapped Phyrexia’s globe.

Luz watched as geometry filled the blank space before her, sprouting sides and angles until the world was made of lines, of calculations and artifice, filling with its first rattling breath of life – only to spew forth shadowy beasts from its pores, the sky stained red with their birth cries. Metal jungles swallowed the girl, pulled her into the world –

And then she was in a hospital, or something like it, waiting in line to be called. Faceless, formless figures were picked up by darkened monsters, cradled like babes, and then it was her turn. They pushed into a theater of sorts, her in the creature’s arms, approaching a table of saws and scalpels –

And then she was the beastly orderly, carrying another’s body to the table. She laid it down with care, knowing that comple(a)tion was at hand, and that she was its instrument. Doctors circled the other tables, working on their own patients, each of them a mass of metal in the form of a person.

But the patient on the table wasn’t some foggy silhouette, it was Amity Blight, watching the surgeon with a smile. When Luz turned, it was no cyborganic beast, but the Titan, draped in a doctor’s scrubs with skeletal grin exposed.

“You can only fight perfection,” it said through a fleshless jaw. “With perfection.”

It advanced on Amity, a chart clutched in its bony hand outlining the anatomy of a witch, focused on the vital pulse and flow of the bile sac as the god reached for the first knife –

Luz awoke in a cold sweat, feeling the witch’s soft breaths run over her shoulder and spine, and tried not to think about anything at all for just a little while.

“Huh. Guess this isn’t technically grass, then.”

Barbs of iron resisted her tugging, angrily working against Luz’s efforts to free her poor staff from the sharpened tendrils she’d opted to poke. A handful of shavings fell free with the motion, scattered across the metal ground even as she overbalanced, nearly toppling when her weapon swung upwards.

Dim glimmers of bleached light reflected from the matt surface of the square they were inspecting, ancient structures arrayed in a central lane surrounded by a ring of barracks - and something like a nightmarish version of a post office – that cut across the line with its construction. On all sides they were hemmed in by spools of wire masquerading as living plants, filling the space between structures and the untamed hills beyond, swaying and bobbing under a harsh wind that had kicked up shortly before their arrival. There was no midday heat or burning sunlight to warm Luz and Amity’s backs – if anything, the whitened illumination from above served only to emphasize the chill that permeated this segment of Phyrexia like a disease.

Most of the manmade constructions in this gathering were flattened, pounded to dust by the rotting mechanical titans that lay in the street. Equal in size to the previously discovered vehicle, one had been ground to pieces by damage that matched the weapons mounted on its sibling. The twin suit, meanwhile, had its massive co*ckpit blown out in a similar manner to the war machine far above.

Luz didn’t let her mind linger on the implications any longer than was necessary.

After the encounter the previous ‘night,’ the duo had approached further exploration much more cautiously. Amity’s abominations scouted every ruin before they even considered stepping foot within, and Luz kept her makeshift night vision spell close at hand, letting it bubble into being whenever entering a new location. The rattled witch had recovered with a good few hours of rest, but they were both undeniably more wary of any potential lurking dangers than before. The silence of the plane had gotten to them, lulled them into a sense of unearned security in hostile territory. Slithering feelers of oil had reminded the girls of the possible peril that awaited.

“Let’s check out the central structure, it looks like something meant to house scribes and project managers.” Amity stepped forward, blade drawn, leading their party into the shadows filling the empty building that clung to its edges like fouled paint.

Only a few moments into their scouting, it occurred to the young mage what they were looking at.

“Is this a church? Didn’t think a bunch of nutty robo-people would care about religion…”

In some gruesome fashion, such a discovery made sense. Some of the worst of humanity’s long history on planet Earth had come from holy wars and crusades, armies whipped into a frenzy by the promises of religious zealotry, along with a healthy dose of personal gain. If the Titan was to be believed – and she definitely took its words with a grain of salt – the Phyrexians had once dominated the multiverse with their plotting, all in the hopes of felling their oldest foes. So, in a twisted way, Luz could understand why they might turn something like that into a form of worship.

The pulpit, if that was what it truly was, held slabs of etched brass bound with coiling metal spirals. Scrawling, spidery text filled each of the text’s thick pages, indiscernible to someone not versed in the long-dead language. If she squinted and tilted her head, Luz could almost make out the beginnings of a few familiar words, but the sprawl of calligraphy was beyond her. She cursed her lack of knowledge in that moment, alongside the general disinterest in technical writing skills that had long since plagued her.

From the other side of the jagged, organic altar, she heard Amity loose a dismissive snort.

“If that’s the case, I’ll go check out the other buildings. I doubt we’ll be able to read anything in here.” Her companion retreated from the darkened house of worship, voice fading with distance. “It might be more interesting if we had any way of figuring out the first thing regarding their culture.”

“Stay safe out there!” Luz called after her, catching the thumbs-up sent her way before the witch turned the corner and left her line of sight.

She wondered, in the sanctity of her own head, if Amity’s disregard for spiritual things had more to do with the crisis of faith regarding the Titan that the witch had only started to recover from. Not that the human planeswalker could really blame her for that. Her friend wasn’t wrong, though – without any way to decipher the scripture that filled the rusting pamphlets and arching convent walls, any further investigation would be pointless.

Luz’s brow furrowed as a thought occurred to her – and she rummaged through her expanded pack, pulling her old sketchbook from its depths. She’d left some of its contents at her house, before leaving Earth once more, so that records of her older travels wouldn’t be damaged or overwritten. But there was still plenty of space within, and so she stripped an open page – the one just past the collection of snowflake designs she’d drawn out from her and Eda’s trip to the Knee – and pulled out a thick-tipped pencil from a side pocket.

The rough coverage of graphite across the page struggled to capture the full scope of such delicate writing, but much like the gravestone rubbings her idea was based on, it managed to convey most of the inscribed text successfully. There weren’t many tablets to copy, and so she dedicated a few pages to her find, idly wondering where they might locate a translator in the wider multiverse. Surely someone out there had to hold knowledge of the written Phyrexian language.

As she turned to leave the unsettling church, Luz took a final glance at the swooping columns that cut between the cold, stony pews, their clawed feet melded into the brick flooring like they’d grown into their role. She ran a gloved hand over the swirling iconography, tracing the curves of the most prevalent symbol amongst the lot: a simple circle, shot through with one jagged line from top to bottom.

Huh, she thought to herself. Looks like something from one of my old science classes.

And then she had to blink and do a double take, with a step back and a furrow in her brows when she reexamined that internal comment, because yes – she did recognize this symbol from her brief time in physics and chemistry courses from her time on earth. Something… Greek? Yeah, a Greek letter – the icon for phi.

Phi, phi… The letter phi, scratched deeply into the walls of a Phyrexian chapel.

The girl - didn’t know what to make of the realization, swallowing past a sudden lump. On the Titan’s word, if these people had ever found their way to Earth, then it was almost certain that humanity would not have remained the dominant species on their world for as long as they had. With eons of technological advances far outpacing all but the most modern discoveries of her kind, the ancient Greeks and their wider world would have surely crumbled before the implacable might of such dangerous foes.

Perhaps it was just… another coincidence. After all, she’d already spoken with Amity the previous day about how odd it must be, for human students to have prom while young witchlings held their own Grom. Nothing about either tradition’s origins was shared between the two, and yet the final product of such events was eerily similar – almost uncannily so.

She’d felt some doubts, seeing the ruins of Urza’s war with his ancestral foes – for who else could have brought such destruction to the fortress-world they walked? – and how clearly one-sided the devastation had been, at one point. That was without even beginning to consider how the remnants of blasted buildings so closely matched the damage that had exposed the plane’s inner core to open air, wherever the titanic invading behemoths had once tread, their mechanized weapons turned against the world itself.

But if there was a connection – if this race of ruthless warriors and scientists had once breached the barrier between their worlds, touched down upon Earth in the infancy of her people – then their threat to all that she held dear may have been even greater than the Titan theorized. Nothing was stopping them from returning, if they yet survived somewhere beyond the cradle of their civilization. Luz left the church with questions churning in her mind, following Amity’s echoing footsteps out of the encampment’s edge, steadfastly refusing to turn and see once more the clawed, damning symbols that peered down like predatory eyes at her cloaked back.

Ultimately, the two mages spent very little time within the seventh and eighth spheres.

After the placid fields of razorgrass and blank skylines, it was shock to Luz’s system feeling the boiling updraft that arose from their next step downwards. The fragments lining the world-shattering chasm glowed with heat, catching excess belches of flames and spewing volcanic gases on their way towards the upper layers.

Flying over the edge, catching a glimpse of what lay beyond, it took more of her willpower than expected not to bark out a curse that would’ve had her mother washing her mouth out with soap, if word of it ever made the trip home. She did, however, fall back on a gesture from foggy childhood years, the throes of religious symbolism wrapped about her mother’s own formative years – and for the first time in a decade, Luz crossed herself at the sight of what lay ahead.

They’d finally located the source of the billowing thermal vents and stacks that had speared skywards, carrying precious heat to the remainder of Phyrexia; it’s seventh interior realm was composed entirely of bubbling magma flues, spiderwebbing across mountainous peaks and interrupted by the occasional blackstone garrison crafted by a long-dead civilization. Rusting hulks littered the few open spaces available, their crumbling blades and whips a testament to the wickedness of its inhabitant’s minds. Monstrous, desiccated maws of grinders the size of houses descended as uneven stalactites; their gnashing teeth fallen silent with the passage of many years. There was no sign of industry, or cheap labor outlets to be spotted; only empty racks and spikes, where once dissidents must have found their final resting place.

A burst of cloying fumes left both her and Amity’s eyes watering, a bout of rough coughing following in its passage. The witch turned in the saddle, eyes streaming with tears, as she shouted to be heard over the din of crackling lava.

“We need to keep going! We’ll get fried if we try to stop here!”

For a moment, Luz instinctively moved to argue the idea, a retort ready on her lips – until she spotted the barren wasteland sprawling past flaming stone peaks, and realized the futility of such attempts at further exploration. Nodding her ascent, biting back her words, she allowed Amity to steer them away from the foreboding scene and back towards their point of entry.

The penultimate layer, Phyrexia’s eighth eggshell, was a study in contrasts to its brethren.

Plunging through smoke and soot, they broke away from the hell that lay above, their drake nosing into a steep dive – only to blast headfirst into all-encompassing darkness. A void surrounded them, sucking the agitated orange light from above straight out of the open space they now occupied. There was nothing, nothing and no one to be found. Only the silence of something that once was, a loss of some unidentifiable feature so profound that Luz felt a pang of second-hand regret well in its place, blinded by the dark as she was.

A part of her wondered if perhaps what was missing was the plane’s very soul.

Winging through the emptiness, sound and sight stolen from them, they could only trust that the drake would follow its last directive to the letter, and continue to orient itself towards whatever finality lay below. Their only point of reference, for inches and miles alike, was the shrinking maw of ruin far above that marked their entrance.

Another stretch of infinity later saw the return of solid ground once more, miles below or above or beyond them – Luz could barely tell anymore. A delicate sphere, nestled in Phyrexia’s center as its precious yolk, defended by all the wasted horrors they’d managed to surpass. It was the smallest of the layers, appropriately so, and even then, the ninth sphere was the size of a tremendous island.

It was a relief to feel mobile air flood their lungs, allowing Luz to take what felt her first breath after a lifetime of oppressive darkness. Gasping just for the sensation of it, the winded mage tumbled from the landed dragonkin, catching herself on its plating as she fell to the ground. Likewise, Amity slid free of their seat, and gazed upon the bared core of the war-driven plane with undisguised interest.

“You think this is where we’ll find the megalomaniac overlord?” At Luz’s confused glance, the witch elaborated with a narrowing of her eyes and frown marring her expression. “The level of industry and cult influence implies a strong central leadership, maybe an extended council for delegating different sectors. Seeing as there were eight or nine levels to the entire planet, after all.”

“Makes sense to me.” The human mage nodded along with the deduction, glancing about at the soggy, pseudo-flesh texture of the ground they trod. “Just surprised me to hear you say it, is all.”

Amity co*cked a brow at the response.

“And why would that be?”

Honestly, her gut reaction to the question was to say, Because I didn’t peg you as somebody who read too many fantasy novels like I did. But her hesitancy as she formulated a proper answer was enough for the pale witch to fill in the blanks with her own assumptions, a stormy expression briefly appearing on her fair features.

“I may be a member of Emperor Belos’ regime, Luz, and believe that it is good for the wider Demon Realm. But that doesn’t mean I can’t figure out a comparison like this when it’s staring me in the face.”

Her friend reeled back at the mildly heated words, scrambling to respond even as Amity took the lead, hiking towards the distant walls of oozing steel just on the edge of their landing site. She had to jog to catch up with the other girl, their pace eating up the miles with ease.

“Whoa, hey, I wasn’t gonna say anything like that! Jeez, you’re making me feel like the mouthy, too-political uncle at the family dinner.” Luz paused for a moment, considering the choked reddish atmosphere above, before continuing begrudgingly. “I mean, you’re definitely right. There’s a case to be made between this and some of the, uh, more controversial things your government’s done. But hey!” She sped ahead, throwing her arms out to encompass the hellscape they found themselves trudging through. “At least Belos didn’t decide that turning everybody into an electrical socket was the way to go, you know?”

“That is… somewhat hard to argue, given the evidence.” Amity admitted, slowing her frustrated pace as she examined their surroundings once more. A gusty sigh followed the loss of her anger. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be putting words in your mouth. It’s not you I’m upset with – or, hells, even this terrible place. It’s just… been a little rough, since we left.”

“I get what you mean.” She nodded along with the words, falling into step beside the weary witch. “Having the Titan pull the rug out from under you like that wasn’t the most tactful thing I’ve seen in a while. And Eda straight-up lied about having a way to get me home for, like, months. So. Yeah.”

Amity didn’t immediately follow the observation, and so Luz continued, voice softening as she fell further into extrapolation.

“And now that you’re questioning your bosses’ boss, and how he could serve somebody so messed up, you’re wondering what else has gone rotten about the whole thing.”

“It’s not just that.” Her curtain of braided green locks trailed with the shake of her head, a contemplative look in the deputy’s golden eyes. “I guess the issue is more that it brought up a lot of old fears. About myself. About if it’s really right to be a member of the Emperor’s Coven.” She hesitated, worrying at her lip, before speaking in an undertone that implied the release of a grand secret. “Lilith’s asked a lot of questions like that since I met her. It makes me wonder what she’s seen that would shake her confidence in the Emperor so badly. It scares me, too.”

“Maybe it’s time to consider she might have a good reason for that kind of talk, Amity.” The mage wanted to say more, to widen the gap she’d found in Amity’s once-unshakeable faith in the ruling class of the Boiling Isles so she might begin to see some of the underlying issues present, but they’d already arrived at their goal on this final bastion of Phyrexian might. Such concerns would have to be explored another day.

Bony rock merged into loamy orange soil, rising into the air in a great ring that marked the beginnings of an abominable coliseum of sorts, a tremendous death’s head of some leering, awful deity watching from above with gem-wrought eyes. Its terrific gates were blasted apart, scattered across the portcullis that had marked its entrance in ages past. They strode beneath the shadowy arch, side by side with weapons drawn and conversation silenced, watchful eyes on abandoned rows of seating far above as they inched across a sandy pit stained with rust and primeval blood.

It was if they’d entered the belly of some great, slumbering beast, a measure of awareness to the world about them that had been absent from all but the insidious ocean of glistening oil they’d already passed.

Something awaited them past the blackened tunnel that bracketed the coliseum’s far exit, but what it could be, Luz was unable to say.

They descended into the bowels of the ancient fort, treading dark tunnels and slick stone that stank of greased metal, even well after such rank residues had evaporated from the walls. Steps spiraled inward, a confusing mess of stonework clearly intended to befoul the invading and unwary, but the helpful application of Amity’s scouting abominations kept them from wasting too much time on dead-ends and pitfalls.

At the end of the decaying path, the pair found answers amongst the detritus.

“Give me a hand with these, would you?”

Luz threw her weight against the sealed titanium doors, grunting in exertion as Amity matched her efforts, a little infusion of red and green magic lending their muscles just enough power to pry open a portal that had not seen newcomers for countless years. They burst through the opened passage, stumbling into a massive, dusty cavern of surgical equipment and disintegrating glass tanks – nothing overly special, compared to what had been uncovered before. The primary difference came from the center of the room, dominated by monolithic arrays of computational devices and cracked screens, all arranged to face a massive, sunken depression in the floor from which a command throne of extravagant proportions sprouted.

And sprawled across the devices, over the spokes and sundered cables, were numerous bodies.

Drawing the edge of her cloak up over her nose to block any debris, the young planeswalker flipped over the closest carcass, sending the cyborganic mummy tumbling from its perch. The thing looked like a pterodactyl merged with a skeletal robot, its great fan of wings poorly cloaked in flaky flesh that had dried in the arid heat sweltering out of the sealed cavern. Its claws were dulled to rounded points, crumbling to pieces with the disturbance of their owner’s body, sprinkling to the hard floor below. Every other specimen shared the same fate, if not exactly the same physical attributes, the winged metal gargoyles leering with a grin of death at the morbidly curious adventurers.

She took a look around, her eyes catching on the many examples of what had once been some cackling monster’s ambitions laid to waste by time and entropy, before voicing her final thoughts.

“Is this really it? A bunch of dead robots and security cameras?” Luz glanced past the banks of computers and calculators, giving the vacated throne a befuddled glance. “Hands down, this has been the single most depressing field trip I’ve ever been on. No contest.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” She craned her neck to look at Amity, the pale witch stepping tenderly between fallen Phyrexians as she gave the command pulpit a contemplative glance. “This is proof for the Titan: Phyrexia is no more. It’s just dust and bad memories, now.”

It would have been easier to agree, to bank on the hope of a job well done without misstep, but something held Luz back from throwing in the proverbial towel so quickly. A niggling at the back of her mind held her tongue, even as the mage stepped around the desiccated body on the floor, crouching low to take in its shrunken visage.

“Luz?” Amity seemed to sense the flow of her thoughts, coming to stand just on the edge of the girl’s sightline as she squinted harshly at the fallen demon.

“Something…” Her gut feelings swelled from her chest and out her lips, airing the unrealized concern. “Doesn’t add up about all of this.”

Standing once more, the human mage paced slowly about the room, taking in everything from the tumbled arrays of fallen surgical gear to the immense runway that spanned into the darkness of some far-off escape tunnel, mind running a mile a minute.

“We’ve seen bodies so far. A good amount of them.” Best to go over each point, one at a time, and find the final picture they created. “But not a lot of them. This place was – huge! Enormous! An entire world made of factories.” Her arms flew up and out, palms upturned towards the dank stalactites above. “So where are all the workers, and the robots, and the cars or ships or whatever? Where did they all go?”

“They might not have left anything behind, you know.” But Amity didn’t seem to truly believe her words, a thoughtful lilt to her tone implying she only wanted to goad Luz’s considerations further.

“Except that’s the thing. We have seen signs of people. Weapons, bodies…” She nearly tripped over the mummified body before her, staring at its lifeless form – and finally, the thought that had been nagging her appeared once more. “These guys weren’t prepared after they died. They were just left here.”

“Alright.” The witch side-eyed at the smattering of corpses. “So what about it?”

“The Titan said that it had been ‘millennia’ since it fell. After the Phyrexians killed it, and then lost the war.” The mage gestured to the bones around them. “But if it had really been that long, there’s no way we’d have found anything like this. On Earth? It takes a lot of little things for mummies to survive that long. And this bunch didn’t have anything like that. Not to mention the bones, up above – a few thousand years woulda just left a bunch of dust behind. Not actual, you know, bodies.”

“Which would mean that… the Titan lied about how much time had passed.” Her eyes narrowed at the implication. “But – why? What purpose could something like that serve? We’d figure it out, either way.”

“No idea. My point is, there’s a lot we can’t figure out from just a trip like this. A bunch of the stuff we thought we knew was wrong.”

Amity caught the implication rather quickly, a sharp intake of breath following her shuttered expression.

“You think the Phyrexians aren’t all gone. Some of them must have survived.”

“And… left.” It was difficult, voicing such a growing fear, but the young mage soldiered on with a skywards gesture. “That ring we found, up on the, um, fourth-ish level? There was more. A lot more. And they all -” She gulped a bit at the thought. “They all looked like they were hooked up to some kind of power grid.”

“Portals.” Amity breathed, her voice hushed with awe and terror alike. “That’s how they spread. That’s how they became such a huge threat. I guess – I guess that makes sense, yeah.”

“Which is probably why the Titan pointed us towards two major places of interest, not just one.” A frown stole over her lips. “Even if the second isn’t as obvious as the first.”

Booted heels clicked across buckled metal paneling as Amity circled the battered assemblage of rusting spy screens, her eyes not meeting Luz’s.

“This is big. A lot bigger than just us, Luz.” Familiar steel entered her voice once more. “We’ve got to find out what the next step in their plan is. The Titan has to know.”

Gears spun in her mind, warming with the conversation as a faint memory clicked into place.

“Yeah, we do. And I think I know just how to find it, even if the Titan didn’t know where this other plane was.”

“Oh?”

“That battle on Ravnica brought a lot of ‘walkers together at once. Some of them were pretty old, too.” She shouldered her pack, tapping the butt of her living staff against the cold, unfeeling floor as she verbalized her experiences. “The real issue would be keeping track of where all the old farts got off to that might be able to help us. But – one of the guys there would probably know just where they went.”

“That would be awfully handy.” Amity’s brow furrowed with confusion. “Why would he bother tracking them all, though?”

“Oh, believe me. Huge nerds are all the same. If he didn’t keep tabs on at least a few of those planeswalkers, I’ll eat my traveling socks, post-adventure and uncleaned.”

She grinned at the exaggerated gag that statement received, looking back around at the last great remnant of Phyrexia’s original push to control all of existence.

“Let’s give this place one last sweep before we head out. Just in case we find some souvenirs.”

Giving an amused snort at the sentiment, Amity stepped away to examine the operating tables and spiderlike claws of fragmented medical equipment as the flash of steel caught her eye. Luz, instead, opted to step forward and give the grand seat before them a look.

If they hadn’t spent hours upon hours staring at the evidence before them, she wasn’t certain she’d have believed the tales of these people’s power and reach, once upon a time. But their trip had corrected her naïve assumptions, revealed the greater threat hidden behind the veil of time. They had a mission worthy of legends, now, and even if it ended with them running back home, tails tucked between their legs, it still would mean an advancement of things.

The Titan would surely like to know what they’d found, the scheming bastard.

She didn’t actually have much interest in taking any mementos with her, despite her jesting comment to Amity. It didn’t really feel like there was much of value to be found, in this silent grave.

It was mere coincidence that her hand brushed the cluster of gouges left behind by the ancient demons’ scything claws as she crouched low, the murmuring stir of trace mana making Luz startle. Her curiosity rising, the girl ran sensitive fingertips over the ragged cluster of scratches – no, the jumbled text of Phyrexia’s delicate script – feeling black magic activate in response. It wasn’t so much a spell, as an echo of intent.

A wheezing spurt of wind brushed her ear, the final breath of a dying creature given to slavish devotion in its passing, a whisper of only two syllables.

Yawg. Moth.

Pulling her hand away, Luz realized that the damage she’d mistaken for frantic clawing from some frenzied battle all shared the same attributes. The same characters.

A single message, etched into the metal panels encasing a throne once meant for a single being amongst the countless populace of the ravaged world, repeated hundreds – thousands – of times.

Yawg. Moth. Yawg. Moth. Yawg. Moth.

“Ready to get out of here, Luz?” She jumped at the sudden sound of Amity using her name, breaking the mage free of her trance to find the witch standing behind her with one gloved hand resting at her hip. “Nothing left here but a bunch of junk.”

“Nothing but nasty memories.” The unsettled planeswalker agreed, tearing her eyes away from the sprawling letters made by ancient talons in a desperate plea. “Let’s get going.”

“Actually, hold on a second – what about our little pet project?” Amity rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, a bit of almost parental concern filtering through at the thought of abandoning their mechanical steed. “It doesn’t feel right, just leaving it to rot up there.”

“Guess you’ll have to summon him when we get to friendlier waters.” Luz responded, a bit of cheer reentering her voice at the thought. “It’s about time I showed you how to bring backup that isn’t just your abominations, anyway.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” The witch promised, offering an upturned palm to the smiling mage.

Taking her friend’s hand, letting the pull of the Blind Eternities snatch at her clothes, Luz assumed the lead into more familiar territory without even a backwards glance to the dusty, miserable tomb they’d peeled open together.

Chapter 26

Chapter Text

Stumbling to a standstill beside her fellow mage, blinking the blinding flare of sunlight from her strained eyes, Amity had to ask herself when – exactly – planeswalking would stop being so disorienting.

Luz had made a comment, previously, about the nausea and vertigo fading with time, presumably alongside the fright that came with discorporation and traversing multiversal tides. Yet the last few times they had embarked, their arrival was enough to make the pale witch upchuck, and she was beginning to tire of it –

“Welcome…”

Luz released her sweating hand, stepping forward to sweep an arm before them in an encompassing wave towards the brilliant glare of the sun.

“To the city-world of Ravnica.”

Taking her first steps across the surface of another new plane, finally regaining the full extent of her sight, Amity’s jaw dropped as her hands came to rest upon the thin brass railing at her hip.

They stood atop a windswept expanse of sandstone and marble, the twisting medieval parapets of an ancient tower framing the girls’ perch and curling about the horizon beyond with stone-wrought fingers. Theirs was only one of countless other reaching limbs, towering trunks of architectural artifice that flew heavenwards in their grandeur in a sprawling honeycomb of buildings. Hundreds of meters below, in the shadows of titans, she could just make out the shifting trails of pedestrians moving to and fro, bustling between tendrils of midday sunlight that managed to pierce the curtain of metal and rock about them as thousands of people went about their day.

In that moment, Amity could only think faintly of Bonesborough, and the way its cozy residences bucked any and all sense of conformity or even safety. No two towers boasted the same frame, each of them rising in staggered waves that tore into the thin air of the upper atmosphere and creating a bizarrely terraced appearance for whatever district they found themselves in. Shadows splayed madly across stained glass, wreaking havoc on her depth perception, and leaving the stunned girl wondering if the shapes that moved behind their panes were more of the innumerable throng of citizens, or only tricks of the fickle light.

“Yeah, I made a pretty similar face my first time here, too.” Her friend nodded sagely off to her side, just in sight, giving a nonchalant nod as she leaned against the frighteningly miniscule banister with a co*cked hip.

Giving the coven witch a sudden and gleeful grin, practically vibrating with anticipation, Luz took her by the arm and led her away from the edge of what seemed like infinity.

“And you haven’t even seen the best parts yet! Oh man, we’re definitely coming back here when we get the chance.”

Finally tearing her gaze away from the eclipsing sight, Amity blinked away her confusion, making to ask Luz a question – before her words caught once more, a softer sort of awe filling her breast as they approached the center of the tower they’d alighted upon.

“This is one of the Selesnya Guild’s ‘rising gardens,’” The human mage summarized, softening her stride so as to not yank her companion off her feet. “I used to come here whenever I felt a little too hemmed in by the streets and the like. At least, before I moved further out of the city center with some friends of mine.”

The platform they crossed formed the peak of the structure, the cupped climax of an arching artificial shell formed from sanded rock that gave way to packed, loamy soil hosting a riot of arboreal growths. Banks of various trees and bushes sank into the chiseled blocks, sprouting skyward with eager branches and forming a manmade canopy over a park that hid high above the clouds. Lower platforms boasted similar havens, the spiraling edifice composing an entire ecosystem within its heights.

“It’s part of some initiative one of the local councils cooked up before the whole zombie invasion thing happened.” Luz hummed, giving the healthy plant life a content glance. “I’m glad to see those idiotas didn’t get the chance to wreck this, too.”

Amity nodded her agreement, silently observing the rippling roots of hearty hardwoods, and thought with some stricken sense of nostalgia how much of a shame it was that her once-friend Willow Park would never get to see a place like this.

Being a public venue, if somewhat sequestered from the average hustle and bustle of the city, it was no trouble to find one of the enchanted slabs of limestone acting as a hovering, near-silent elevator near the structural core of the tiered gardens. They wisped down the mighty length of the ancient structure with nary a sound, stepping off onto another platform some ways down. In fact, they hadn’t even found solid ground yet; instead, Luz directed them towards –

“Part of the reason I love this place is because it connects to one of the city skyways.” Her eyes twinkled with poorly-concealed mischief as she shot Amity another smile. “Riding on a train for the first time ought to be a treat for a gal from the Isles.”

Crossing a narrow walkway that spanned the gap between two tremendous towers, the pair found themselves finally inserted into the never-ending stream of colorful citizens milling about at some form of public transport station. Amity did her best not to stare too openly at the innumerable folk passing them by, the loose cloth of vibrant garments flitting in and out of her sight on the way to their unknowable destinations. It helped that, by the standards of her homeworld, there was little in the way of true oddities that stuck out from the crowd – at most, her eyes lingered only on the hunched form of a massive minotaur standing head and shoulders above the crowd, and the smattering of chattering goblins swarming underfoot as Luz marched them up to a rickety turnstile.

She couldn’t stop the double-take upon spotting a group of narrow-eared fair folk on the other end of the station, but a moment’s reminder that they were likely elves, not the witches of the Demon Realm, was enough to tear her gaze away.

In the meanwhile, her cheerful companion continued rambling on, the clinging darkness of their time on Phyrexia sloughing from her shoulders in the wake of her confident conversation.

“There’s a few places where the skyrails dip underground, depending on what district you’re in, but the two are mostly separate. The city wouldn’t be able to shut stations or tunnels down for maintenance if it was all interconnected, even if there are a lot of them.”

A moment’s pause found her reaching within the folded depths of her expanded pack, drawing out a battered satchel ringing with the clink of coins so that Luz could deposit a pair of gleaming dollars into the whirring artifice before them. Snatching the duo of tickets that sprouted from its hissing mouth, the human tore them apart, handing one to the bemused witch at her side before slipping through the humming gate that divided the embarkation platform from the remainder of the odd station. Amity followed in her wake, steps slow as she took in the sights of Ravnican citizenry.

After a few minutes of being nearly jostled but what seemed the entire population of the open-air structure, she received her answer to what, exactly, a ‘train’ was.

With a rattle and a clatter that had her teeth vibrating in her skull, a great metallic centipede screeched into port, its fat-bodied silhouette rounded out by polished steel and glimmering glass. Clawed feet at its base kept the construct hovering over its tracks, the faint emission of some gravitational sorcery keeping the ponderous beast on its course and allowing its unnatural locomotion from station to station. With a gusting sigh, its sliding doorways parted, allowing a stream of mingling riders to come and go from its depths.

Luz stepped forward to follow the flow, and Amity went with her.

They found a seat at a two-person bench, erected at the perpendicular to the nearest window, reminiscent in its shape to theater seating from its cushions to its stiff spine. Her friend graciously allowed the novice rider the window seat, plopping down beside the pale girl and practically bouncing in her chair at the sights beyond the shimmering window.

“If there’s one thing that makes up for the crowds and, uh, smell of public transport, it’s the view. Look!”

Amity’s first attempt to look was stymied by the lurch of the locomotive beneath them, leaving her lunging forward to stop from smacking her vulnerable face on the hard-backed seat in front of them. After the momentary disorientation of departure passed, however, and the engine picked up speed towards their unspoken destination, the witch was more than happy to indulge in her companion’s excitement, once again finding her breath stolen by the sight.

A sea of buildings flashed by at breakneck speeds, the nearest occupations a smeared blur that belayed the world beyond their border – and it truly was an entire world past their hazy forms, because the city simply didn’t end. Variations in height and width allowed slips of the wider district to peek through, exposing the countless differences in facades and materials that made up the organic growth of the enormous settlement. Tracing the boulevards and breakage of parks far below, Amity could almost track the city’s history of expansion, the fading borders of merging and emergent styles in construction melded together between the cracks and foundations of an infinitude of architecture.

“It’s called an ‘ecumenopolis.’”

Roused from her reverie, Amity gave her partner a distracted glance, pained at the thought of being torn away from the wonder before them.

“I’m sorry?”

“Ravnica. It’s an entire world, covered in one city – or, like, ninety-ish percent is.” Luz craned her neck to glance around the witch’s head, basking warmly in the beauty of the city racing past their perch with all the grace and speed of a diving falcon. “A few of the science fiction books I read as a kid used that term. Though, most of those took place in the super future, so, you know. All of the buildings were unrealistically tall and they always got really preachy about technological dystopias, and…” She glanced at Amity’s quirked brow, and the amused tilt of her lips, before blushing and turning away. “Sorry, I’m rambling again.”

“No, no. It’s fine.” Twisting back towards the city for a moment longer, taking in the expanse of halls and public centers coated in countless insignias of the world’s factions, Amity returned her attention to the bashful human mage. “That sounds like an interesting comparison. If those books weren’t completely accurate, where would you say Ravnica differs from them?”

Luz perked up at the prompt, and happily spent the remainder of their trip on the speeding train covering the various differences between science-focused fiction and the realities of magic-based city planning. Amity relaxed in her unyielding seat, feeling herself mellow beneath the barrage of explanations and hypotheses of the exuberant girl at her side, occasionally contributing her own commentary or insight where appropriate.

After their ordeal on the prior world, it was nice to bask in friendly conversation and personal passions. Phyrexia’s gloom had been an omnipresent thing, made all the worse by its maddening silence and the placid sea of dark magics interwoven into its very foundations. She wasn’t entirely certain Luz understood just how deeply entrenched such sorcery had been in the foundation of that place, being only loosely attuned to black mana; but Amity had felt it.

Pressing in on all sides. Welling from every seal and pore of the world. Always looming, but never threatening, not until the moment that mechanical hellhole chose to strike, and then it was a sea of vipers hissing and snapping at their ankles as they fled –

Oh, if there was one thing that absolutely boiled her blood about that trip, it was their misbegotten pit stop amongst the clinging tides of that horrible oil. It had been all she could manage to not strip her skin to the bone once they’d escaped, the crawling sensation it had incited within her since their arrival on that layer prickling flesh and marrow with its blind malice. The witch had never felt such a raw, unsettled feeling before, not even during her bouts of wilderness training when wild animals stalked her campsite with curiosity in their hungry eyes. It had been visceral, deeply rooted – an instinct bred deeply into her body and soul that had never seen the light of day before their fateful encounter with the insidious, creeping oil.

Worst of all was the fact that it had completely wiped away any chance of their discussion that night being continued without delay. The only thing that had managed to make Amity’s heart jump harder than the sight of that slithering menace creeping up the metal dunes was the haphazard comment made by her best and only friend, the sheepish girl quickly admitting to her romantic interests in the fairer sex, and –

It felt traitorous, to bask in the warmth of their clasped hands and the little touches Luz bestowed her every now and then, palms on her shoulders and forearms whenever the mage’s excitement spilled over. As if, even with her knowledge of the human girl’s own preferences, to twist something friendly and light between them with some – some kind of intent that wasn’t actually there was wrong. Untruthful and unclean.

That didn’t do much to stop the enjoyment Amity felt at the contact, though. Even if it made her perk up a little more after their talk that night.

She could’ve burned that miserable pile of metal and dirt to ash for interrupting them. Amity knew she’d seen understanding dawn in her companion’s eyes when the witch had told her of their shared problems in securing dates to dances across two worlds, but they’d only skipped around the topic with the uncertainty of two friends fearing one another’s boundaries. It would be nice to have some actual, direct discussion, but, well –

The train’s whistle shrieked shrilly as they approached another skyborne platform along its route, and Luz once more took the lead as the pair stood by the automated doors in anticipation.

…Maybe they’d return to that chat sometime soon.

Another winding path through the crowded terminal and down a floating elevator, Amity received her first street-level view of Ravnica’s metropolis, though it may have been more accurate to state she lost sight of the greater perspective being airborne had provided. On the cobblestone and brick roadways, grand edifices to the city’s venerable history blocked the sun and their contemporaries in equal measure. Patches of chilled shade interspersed the countless intersections and alleys, bathing passersby in its comforting shelter from the peak of the day’s heat.

Thankfully, whatever destination Luz held in mind seemed to err towards the more brightly lit and cleanly kept section of whatever neighborhood they had entered, her traipsing gait winding away from the hints of the world’s inevitable underbelly wherever they peered out from blackened corners. Down low, where warmth began to wane and the network of sewers Amity imagined must honeycomb the underground found their outlets, the witch spotted the occasional gatherings of shady figures mucking about, just beyond the reach of law-abiding persons. Their actions betrayed no overt sense of criminality; only her trained eye was capable of picking out the small tells that set them apart, cloaked blades and darting eyes giving away the nature of their back-alley dealings.

The growing urge to curl her lip in disgust at such devious figures, however, fell away as they turned a corner into lessened traffic – only for the crowd to fully give way in light of the ruination before the pair.

Swooping skyscrapers and dense streets had hidden the destruction from easy surveillance on their approach, but as Luz’s steps faltered, Amity found her own giving way in the wake of the unsettling sight. At some point, the exterior façade of one of the smaller towers had sloughed away, brought low by the crumpled form that jutted from its peak – a noxious combination of gold bangles and luminous amethyst crystal, scrapped by the world-shaking impact that had led the wretch to crash face-first into the building. Rubble spilled onto the street, shattered blocks the size of carriages flooding the roadway, set amongst dust and debris like a tumbled anthill. Beyond the splintered structure, similar damages could be seen marring countless other ageless architectural pieces, their scarred faces standing stiff and proud in the blazing noon sun.

With a wrenching feeling in her gut, Amity couldn’t help but compare it to the devastation they’d borne witness to on the blasted surface of Phyrexia, tracing the scattering of brick and mortar with uneasy eyes and imagining how a colossal metal fist might have once wrought the same toll on that rotten world.

“…We’ve been pretty lucky to avoid most of the downed buildings so far.” Luz’s sigh sounded much too exhausted for someone her age, as did the sadness that tugged at the corner of her soft brown eyes. “There wasn’t a single district that didn’t get hit by Bolas’ army when he came through. Last I heard, they’re still… trying to dig people out.”

The last of her sentence slipped out in a whisper, all but lost on the winding breeze that kicked up chalky particles, a miniature sandstorm amongst the city’s walkways. In that moment, the witch realized the shifting forms clambering up the sides of the pitted construction weren’t dislodged rubble, but civil servants, sifting through obliterated concrete in ankle-deep piles of stone. The work crew turned over bricks and shifted aside piles of refuse, calling down every so often to the organizers down below; of the bunch, only one bellowed with any kind of fervor, and the remainder of his squad came trudging over with renewed vigor at his excitement.

On the fringes of their demolition zone, miserable citizens sat, dejected and world-weary as the work crew dug through what was once home to them. Their hunched backs and downturned faces let Amity know all she could ever want about their hopes of salvaging anything worth their time.

“Come on. This isn’t what I had in mind.” The pale coven commander was more than happy to let Luz take her by the wrist, and traverse any other street than the one before them.

Crowds swelled about them once more, the flow of traffic trickling onto a widening array of boulevards that spanned outwards in an octagonal web, diagonal roads crisscrossing one another as hundreds of people walked their well-trod paths. In the epicenter of the square, where each of the various streets intersected one another, a park nestled within its heart. The density of unbound growth, however, had been stripped to the roots, allowing walkways of sturdy cobblestone to mark out a number of raised stone pads, creating a blank foundation upon which numerous colorful stalls and tents rested. The crowd burrowed through these artificial tunnels, browsing the wares of the mind-boggling array on offer, lending a gentle murmur of content conversation to the slight breeze.

They dove into the spread, taking a meandering route past the hawkers and their goods, with Luz seemingly in no hurry to blast through to whichever roadside businesses she must have had in mind. Instead, with a slight gesture of her wrist, the duo slowed to a stop alongside the half-shade provided by a flapping, trapezoidal tent off the beaten path. An elderly elf rose to greet them, the thick streaks of crow’s feet along the woman’s features hinting at a lifetime of good-natured grins. Enticing scents of steaming buns and baking jams oozed from her stall at a lackadaisical pace.

“And how might I help you two fine ladies today?” She sounded like a typical grandmother, doting and warm, the croon of her low timber left creaking with age.

“Just looking for a bit to eat while we’re out and about,” Luz replied, injecting reclaimed cheer into her tone after their rattling encounter with the scars of battle. “I’ve always had a weakness for pastries, no matter what time of day it is.”

She received a short, tinkling laugh in response, the shopkeep taking a moment to pull out a roll of waxy paper from beneath her aging counter.

“Well now, a sweet tooth is right up my alley. What would you like?”

Luz secured a quartet of piping-hot buns and muffins for the both of them, making easy small-talk as she hemmed and hawed over what selection seemed most appropriate. Amity, unfamiliar with what crops might be available on a world so far removed from her own, simply let the human mage take the lead on her snacks of choice. The older woman was in no rush, happy to chatter along with her customers as she wrapped up their fare with a length of twine, forming a pair of papery sleeves to protect their fingers from the scalding heat of the treats.

“Thank you kindly, ma’am.” Her companion dropped a handful of gold coins into the elf’s palms, before quirking an eyebrow at the grateful stall owner. “Any idea where we might be able to get some good coffee to go with these?”

Carefully memorizing the woman’s verbal instructions, they left the stand behind with meal in hand, and Amity turned to Luz with a question on her lips as she cradled the pastries she’d been given.

“I’m not one to turn my nose up at free food, but I don’t quite see how this is supposed to get us where we’re going.”

“Relax, Amity.” Luz singsonged as she nudged the witch’s elbow with her own, careful not to topple the steaming innards of her bun with the motion. “It’s all a part of the plan. I’ve been navigating markets like these for years.” She gave the bemused girl a wink and a smirk, turning to survey the shops further along the forested trail. “You’d be surprised at what turns up in places like this. Such as, for example, plenty of gossip.”

“You…” The realization finally clicked, leaving Amity blinking at her partner in contemplation. “You hunted down information on how to get home from farmer’s markets? The entire time?” She puckered her lips in thought. “I suppose that explains why you made for the Owl Lady’s stall so quickly, not to mention stuck around when the Coven showed up to try and take her in. Did you ever actually manage to find other signs of humans from your world doing that?”

“Not directly, no. But it’s a fairly simple method -” Luz spun on her heel, treading backwards as her free arm gestured towards the wider market square up ahead. “Customers talk, which means shop owners hear all sorts of things. And if there’s anything folks like chatting about, it’s world news and crazy, otherworldly stuff. Like weird people and scary aliens. Which, if you butter them up just right… they’ll tell you all about.”

She spun back into line with Amity’s stride, nodding to herself as they plunged back into the crowd.

“I may not know where our resident nerd may be, but if there’s one thing bookworms like him enjoys, it’s coffee and dusty old tomes. I’ve got a rough idea of where he lives – somewhere in this district, after all the fighting and passing his role in the city government on – but we’ll figure it out. He’s pretty memorable, from what I recall.”

Amity would simply have to take her words at face value, and hope the trip didn’t take over-long.

Six stops at bookshops and caffeine stands later, over the course of an hour or so, and they found a hint as to where their target was regularly living.

“Yeah, that sounds a mite familiar – tall, skinny bloke with a penchant for blue, right?” At Luz’s enthusiastic nod, the owner of the latest coffee stand gave a low grunt, running a rough palm over his course stubble. “Heard someone say he’s some bigshot who lives out of the Allevara Suites, near the edge o’ Precinct One. Place is about three blocks goin’ north, can’t miss it – it’s the only one with a giant dome for a roof.”

“Thanks a bunch for the help, sir!” The elementalist gave him a short wave as they departed, leaving behind a few of her engraved coins in the man’s tip jar while Amity cradled her frothing coffee in one hand.

Sipping a bit of the superheated swill, she bobbed her head in appreciation at its taste. Not a bad brew at all.

After their lengthy pursuit of any relevant tidbits of information, the walk to the aforementioned residence was nothing. She had to admit that it had been enjoyable, simply taking some time to explore the marketplace and ogle some of the more interesting items for sale, especially in Luz’s comfortable presence. No stand of any import passed by without a whispered word of commentary in her pointed ear, or perhaps a baudy joke at the expense of the more extravagant and out of touch merchants milling about. With the wilted horrors of Phyrexia fresh in her mind, smiles and laughter came easily in such a lively place, driving the last of the chill from her spine with their easygoing conversation amongst the trees and stalls.

The merchant, it appeared, had not been exaggerating in his description. Of the multiple opulent sets of apartments lining the outer segment of the block, only one of them was expansive enough to support what appeared to be a fully developed observatory at its crown, the extended arm of a monstrous telescope jutting from its peeled eaves towards the sunlit heavens with its shining eye of crystal.

If Amity were a betting woman, she’d say their man was almost certainly the one occupying such a magnificent, borderline lavish penthouse – but it wasn’t nice of her to make assumptions. Or to gamble on the job, but that was another argument entirely.

No security detail met them at the glass doors, to her mild surprise, nor did any bellhops or other busybody employees. Her impression of the area was that it was upper class, or some equivalent to such a thing; a lacking presence of the help indicated either supreme confidence in their service and safety, or that the structure held some other sleight of hand hidden in the awnings for any potential sources of trouble. The sharply dressed human attendant at the front desk, at least, seemed to be going about his job with a clear sense of focus; he only looked up at their approach when they’d closed with a handful of meters, directing a professional smile towards the pair as they stepped before him.

“Welcome to the Allevara Suites, madams. Is there something I can assist you with this fine afternoon?”

“Ah, hello sir. My friend and I…” Luz swung her wrist between the two of them, tilting her head beseechingly. “Were wondering if you might be able to help us find someone. Some acquaintances of ours said he lived here, and -”

“My apologies, young lady.” The clerk held up a stiff hand to forestall her spew of words, an apologetic twist of his brow forming in their wake. “But it is our company policy not to disclose information pertaining to our clients, including their residence in the building, even if you know them by name. It’s a matter of internal security, you see.”

“Ah – okay. Well.” Luz hedged, tapping her fingers together as the confident front she’d been maintaining slowly disintegrated. “This is some… pretty important business. It has to do with a lot of people, not just us or your, uh, client. Is there any way we might be able see him, or visit his apartment…?”

“The only method for contacting any guests of the Suites is through third-party communication, or prior arrangement with our management staff regarding visitation.” His tone firmed at the faltering plea, some of his softened countenance falling away. “We’ve had issues recently regarding unregistered guests causing trouble on our premises, and -”

Amity considered herself a relatively patient person, but while their walk in the park had been enjoyable, this interaction with a stern desk jockey was anything but. Gently shifting past her befuddled friend, the witch assumed the stance and expression she normally reserved for particularly aggravating offenders, the leather of her gloves creaking as she tucked her arms together with an unamused lift of a brow.

“Alright, I think we’ve been skirting the problem a little too long here. We’re here to see the owner of the penthouse suite. Tall, lanky, likes wearing blue robes and drinking too much coffee?” She leaned close, just over the rim of the counter, so that the attendant was forced to shift backwards so that his space went uninvaded. “We know he’s here. We know where he’s been. And we have some very important business to discuss with him. Of the otherworldly variety.”

She swirled her thumb about alongside the step forward, and when her hand came to rest upon the counter, the alien features of a miniature abomination peered between her digits at the wide-eyed clerk as it slithered over her glove.

When Luz had described the invasion of Ravnica earlier that year, and the response it had invoked from the trapped planeswalkers, Amity had made a few observations that she’d kept to herself in the intervening discussion. Primarily, that any kind of discretion normally applied to multiversal interactions – which the mage had previously, if briefly, made reference to – would be near impossible to maintain on a world frequented by such visitors, who had openly witnessed their counterattack on the foreign attackers. While the common citizenry may not truly grasp the implications of such an assault on their world, she was certain that the realization had made its way into the general public at least somewhat.

Her hunch was gratified when the clerk paled, reaching up to tug nervously at the cuff of his jacket with an exaggerated swallow.

“Ah. I. Yes. I see. You’re here for that sort of conversation.” His free hand drifted over, lightly tapping the engraved glyph set into an array of buttons at his side, the small terminal releasing a cheery chime in response. “He has been alerted to incoming visitors. You will find the elevator at the rear of this lobby available to you.” Regaining some of his composure, the sweating man straightened up, a bit of desperate resolve entering his gaze. “All that I ask is that you do not destroy our building if there is to be any – disagreements. We can ill afford any such repairs, considering the state of the city these days.”

“We’ll keep that in mind.” Reaching over to her friend’s pack, and ignoring her squawk of shock, Amity dug out a small stack of the larger denomination of coins Luz kept – ‘zinos,’ she’d called them – before depositing them on the counter before him with a sharp clack. “Your assistance is appreciated. If we have any questions, you’ll be the first to hear.”

Stepping away without another glance, the witch left the help to stew on her implication of a threat as she took the lead for the first time that day, striding towards the indicated elevator with confidence. It was important to leave an impression on those who provided them with assistance – especially if such help had come reluctantly. Vanishing her little creation without even gesturing was just a fun sleight of hand to really sell the show.

Her mother had never seen the point in indulging those beneath her, especially if they were under the employ of the Blights themselves, but Amity’s time in the Emperor’s Coven had taught her the value of applying pressure and reminders in the proper places.

“I could’ve handled him, y’know.” Luz pouted all the way to the open-walled platform, a reaction that brought a small, mischievous grin to the witch’s features. “No need to browbeat random people just because they’re a little obtuse.”

“I’m sure you could’ve,” Amity reassured her, giving the other girl a condescending pat on the shoulder that made her frown only deepen. “But look! I saved us so much more time to bug this mystery person of yours instead of his landlords. I doubt he’d appreciate being kicked out for having irritating visitors, after all. Wouldn’t you agree?”

She chuckled heartily at the grumbling her comment received, the whoosh of air through the vertical chamber drowning out any hope of discerning individual words between the two. The coven deputy made certain to keep her limbs away from the finger-snapping rush of condensed bricks flying past them, the hum of the device’s enchantment mixing with displaced winds to create a thrumming of white noise.

Hopefully the residents didn’t have to hear this all day long. That would drive her insane, were she living here.

A small vestibule crested their ascent, allowing them to step off the raised stone and watch it recede back towards the distant ground, before a pair of sturdy stone sliders shifted into place so as to prevent any mishaps in the elevator’s shaft. Glancing at Luz by her side, Amity gestured ahead, allowing the human girl to resume their march into the proverbial lion’s den.

From further within the penthouse suite, the tones of a lyrical, cultured voice swelled into the entry foyer.

“Please, come inside. I’ll be down shortly. I assume – whoever you are – that Randel wouldn’t have let you up here if you were making too much of a fuss in the lobby.”

The apartment was as lavish as she’d have expected from its hosting venue. Bookshelves dominated the rear walls, arching towards the curved ceiling, stocked to the brim with countless volumes of varying size and age. Astrological instruments dominated tabletops, surrounding a crowded living space that played second fiddle to the projects littering the chambers. The thin hum of mana zinged about the room, fluttering about the enchanted gears and fragments of artistic artifice that served some arcane set of directives.

Several lengthy seconds passed, before the clomp of thick boots on creaking floorboards descended from the twisting spiral staircase that dominated the center of the chamber, and Amity received her first glimpse of the man Luz had sought out.

He wasn’t all that much older than either of the duo, somewhere in his early- to mid-twenties; and he did, indeed, seem to favor dressing in deep hues of blue. Amity wasn’t much one for interest in members of the opposite sex, but she could admit the human male before her was attractive – his hair spiked from beneath a crumpled hood, offset by angular facial features and eyes the same shade as the robe-like vestment he wore at the moment. Trinkets and baubles clinked against each other as they bounced at his hip and breast, alight with the glow of sorcerous fortification etched into their surfaces with twirling runes. His smile was polite, but the sharp glint of his gaze gave away the force of character hidden behind them.

This one was clever. Hopefully, that did not mean he was a threat.

When the mage’s eyes fell upon Luz’s cloaked figure, his expression softened somewhat, a spark of recognition in his crystalline irises. Distantly, Amity’s sensitive ears noted the fading hum of something electric after the man caught sight of them – perhaps his blasé faire entrance had been more for show than he’d have liked them to know.

“Wait a moment – I remember you. Luz Noceda, the elementalist, correct? We fought alongside one another during the War of the Spark.”

“…Is that seriously what they’re calling it?” Her friend grimaced a bit at the other planeswalker’s words - for that must have been his nature if he had participated in Ravnica’s counterassault alongside the girl - and he had enough wherewithal to wince in return.

“Ah. Well. The historians needed something to remember it by, and everything else came across as… crass. It didn’t help that those who stayed had to come clean regarding some planeswalker lore to avoid the angrier members of the city councils, afterwards.”

“Fair enough, but let it be known I find that name incredibly corny, and it should seriously be revised as soon as possible.”

“Duly noted.” Their host’s lips twitched a bit with his mirth, before his attention centered on Amity once more, causing the witch to straighten her spine under his scrutiny. “It’s a pleasure to see you again. However, I don’t think I encountered your friend last time we met…?”

“Nah, you wouldn’t’ve known her. That whole shindig was before her time.” Luz elbowed her in the side, lightly but somewhat unnecessarily, and she stepped forward to introduce herself with a quick clearing of her throat.

“Hello, sir. My name is Amity Blight. I am an agent of Emperor Belos, native to the Demon Realm.”

“She’s a newbie ‘walker!” Her friend called playfully, giving the witch a cheeky grin when Amity shot a brief glare towards the other mage. The willowy man barked out a short laugh at the statement, however, stepping into range so that his outstretched palm met hers neatly in a firm grasp.

“Don’t worry, we all were at some point.” He gave their interlinked fists a single pump, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Jace Beleren, at your service. Mind mage, former Guildpact of Ravnica - and planeswalker, as you likely surmised.”

“A pleasure, Mister Beleren.” Nodding at the other mage, they stepped apart, her hands coming to rest at the small of her back in parade rest as a small, nervous tick she hadn’t managed to fully eliminate. A mind mage, he’d said? Mental spellcasting was not something the Coven was overly familiar with – for most members, the relatively few spells on offer came too close to blurring the borders between wild magic and the limitations of the Emperor’s systems.

“Please, I’m not even three decades old. Call me Jace.” Thick blue cuffs swung as he gave a magnanimous wave of his hand, the tension he’d held upon their arrival melting away with ease.

“If that’s so, then you can call me Amity.”

“Gladly.” He must’ve been a hit with other women – the smile she received was small and charming, a respectful acknowledgement that cast his sharp jaw into frame. “Now, I’m assuming that this isn’t simply a house call. I was glad to work alongside you before -” At this, he swiveled to address the waiting Luz. “But I can’t say that we had much time to interact, previously. End of the world and all that.”

The lithe elementalist snorted, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly.

“When isn’t that the case, these days?”

Her mildly bitter wit must have tipped their host off to the import of their visit, as some of the levity that had found its way onto his face slipped away for something more solemn.

“That does not fill me with confidence in the least. What’s the situation?”

In a flash, the easygoing Jace Beleren had disappeared, replaced by the confident tones of a man comfortable with either tackling his problems on the battlefield, or sequestered away within a logistics tent directing troop movements. Begrudgingly, Amity found herself impressed by his maturity in the face of legitimate concerns.

Shaking her head, Luz folded her arms across her ribs, drawing the indigo folds of her cloak closer.

“It’s nothing local, or super pressing.” The young mage flicked her hand towards her companion. “We’re on a quest for a kinda-sorta god from Amity’s world. Turns out, it’s from way back when, and has a bone to pick with some of the other players from that time. Our job is to scout things out, see how bad they’ve gotten since it lost contact with more of the multiverse.”

“And what, perchance, might those enemies be?” Jace’s brow rose with his query, a bit of anticipatory dread filtering through his expression.

“Phyrexians.”

“Ah.” The mind mage’s twisted lips formed into a full-blown grimace, baring his teeth in a snarl at the mention. “It’s that sort of business, then. You have my condolences.”

With another step, Amity resumed her place beside Luz’s tense silhouette, directing a flat look towards the male planeswalker as her hands came to rest at her worn belt.

“What we need from is information, not apologies.” The pale witch angled her head towards her singular friend, a calculating look in her eye as she examined the mage before them. “Luz believed that you might be able to help us locate others who are in the know on the Phyrexian’s secondary stronghold. We’ve already visited the first – as far as we could tell, it’s a graveyard. But…” Her lips thinned at the thought. “More importantly, it’s a graveyard full of old portals.”

An impressive sigh escaped Beleren as he ducked his head in thought, capturing his chin between a trio of fingers. After a moment’s hesitation, he swept towards the staircase he’d descended, a curl of his hand bringing the pair of them along behind as they ascended into his personal study.

“I,” Jace began exhaustedly. “Have not, personally, come into contact with the multiversal threat of the Phyrexians. They were – and are – dangerous enough to warrant being aware of their movements, but no ‘walkers in recent memory have found any success in meaningfully combatting their advance.” His face scrunched up with a weary sort of sadness. “I should know. I‘ve spoken to several of them.”

They paused at a massive desk, drowning in envelopes and opened correspondence, perched at the peak of the stair’s landing with a wide view of the chambers below. Carefully maneuvering past the mountain of parchment, Jace rifled through the upper drawers of the groaning furniture, narrowing his eyes in consideration.

“What you must understand about the Phyrexians, though…” A thick journal flopped onto the slim bit of spare space atop the desk, its contents bound with a shimmering cord of blue silk that frothed with completed spellwork. “Are two primary things: how they spread their influence, and how far they’ve already gotten.” Another tome met its sibling upon the straining wood, evidently not the only piece he was searching for, based upon his return to the depths of the drawers. “Phyrexia has conquered numerous planes – no one is certain just how many – though most of those fortress-worlds are just satellites, self-contained since their portals failed several decades ago.”

Finally, a wafer-thin notebook appeared from Jace’s drawers, and the mage gathered it up with its siblings, tapping their spines against the desktop. His stare was leaden and dour as he gazed at the adventuring pair.

“Their newest conquest, however, displays a disturbing development in Phyrexian technology. Specifically, their capacity for micro-engineering, and the construction of toxic substances.” The pages of his smallest booklet flapped in an unseen breeze, swinging open to a particular page as blue mana swirled about Beleren, his finger dropping upon the words contained within. “Formerly known as ‘Mirrodin,’ currently considered ‘New Phyrexia.’ Not a particularly clever name, but they are pragmatic, if nothing else.”

Clearing his throat with a cough, Jace’s eyes flickered over the pages of his own notes, a culmination of interviews and reports from those he had come into contact with in years past.

“According to Karn, the creator of said world, the first generations of Phyrexians manually altered themselves to fit their harsh metallic environment, through bioengineering and mechanical prostheses. However, he unknowingly carried a trace of Phyrexian nanomachinery, a relic of the last days of their war with Dominaria of old, which was intended for terraforming and conversion of conquered planes. The introduction of this glistening oil to the world’s core eventually caused its downfall, and a rise of second-wave converts dedicated to expansion of their ‘perfection.’”

Amity’s chest tightened painfully, as she shot a frantic glance towards Luz, who met her gaze with equal fervor. She knew instinctually that the other girl was vividly reliving that horrific night fleeing the shores of a great, shimmering sea, and how close they’d come to being overwhelmed by its tides as they settled in to rest. The witch was suddenly, terrifyingly glad that she’d all but stripped any crumbling remnants of filth from their bodies and clothes once they’d escaped the malicious waves. Who knew how nefariously pervasive such a thing might be?

Bone-deep wariness of the eldritch wonder that was Phyrexia’s oceans didn’t seem all that unreasonable, anymore. She wasn’t certain what was more frightening, though – the monstrous danger represented by such an abominable creation, or the simple fact that these beings had already used it to great effect, and could do so again.

Jace continued on, only giving a brief, concerned look following their reaction, gesturing to his tattered journals with a gloved hand.

“If that’s where your journey is taking you, then I’d recommend you try hunting down some of the older mages who have more intimate experience dealing with Phyrexian incursions.” Swapping out one book for another, the telepath cycled through its contents with a finger. “I’ve recorded information regarding most of the other ‘walkers I’ve encountered, over the years, when I get the chance to speak with them. Primarily they’re entries on my closest friends…” At that, a spark of grief swept over his expression, before being buried by cool determination once more. “But I know of several that could assist your endeavor.”

One hand snaked out, deftly entering a precarious pile of unsorted mail, only to reveal the prize he had snagged – a simple, engraved sphere of interlocking quarters, its brassy surface glimmering dully in the soft light of his home.

“I’m somewhat busy at the moment, and won’t be able to guide you personally. However, I’ve been working on a method of tracking planeswalkers and transferring messages remotely, so that people can stay in touch and remain up to date with goings on.” Jace presented the small ball to the attentive pair of women. “All I need to do is calibrate this marker with some of my memories regarding their unique magical signatures, and it will point you towards the mages in question. I should be able to get it done within the day.”

“That’s perfect. Thanks for the help, Jace.” Luz shot the taller spellcaster a brilliant smile, shaking off the gloom of fearful hindsight, something that did not leave Amity feeling envy at all. “Is there anything we can do for you while we’re around? If not, I’ll probably just give Amity here a tour of the city. I haven’t been to the Tin Street Market in a while.”

“Let me see…” Setting the enchanted orb beside his excavated books, the man scanned his overcrowded furniture with a keen eye. “Most of these are reports or demands for information from people who seem to think I have nothing to do all day but answer questions. I’m not even in charge of anything these days, let alone Guildpact responsibilities.” A short, aggrieved sigh left him at the thought. “It seems I don’t have much in the way of pressing official business, so you should be fine to…”

His eyes caught on an unassuming envelope perched at the corner of the towering stack, cutting off his sentence with a strangled curse at the sight, face paling a bit under the swing of the overhead lamp.

“Something the matter?” Amity asked, a tad concerned by the gaunt look that struck his fair features.

“I thought I had this mailed days ago!” Jace snapped up the envelope with a frantic swipe, double-checking the address and swearing under his breath in an unfamiliar language. “I intended for this to arrive tonight. Stars know that she’s always…” Shaking his head to clear the intrusive thoughts, the mage directed them a pleading look, holding out the innocuous letter pleadingly. “Are you familiar with Precinct Six?”

“I’ve been there a couple of times.” Luz took the offered item, glancing down at it with undisguised curiosity. “What are we looking for out there?”

“There’s a large residential complex, on the border between the district itself and one of the major entrances to the Undercity.” Flexing his hands, a ghostly overlay of a city map shimmered into being before them, highlighting a zigzagging tram path in flickering blue witchfire. “The local train station should be able to get you there fairly quickly, its partner platform is only a few blocks away from the apartments in question. I need you to take that letter to the room listed on its envelope, simple as that. No need to wait for a response – I’ll know if it was received.”

The human girl examined the chamber before them, unknowingly voicing Amity’s own thoughts as she spoke.

“Isn’t there a faster way for this kind of stuff to get around? I doubt sending individual couriers out every time you have a letter is very practical.”

“There are, but they aren’t very secure these days.” A dark look slipped into Jace’s gaze, his eyes flicking away uncertainly. “The Dimir – ah, that would be the resident guild for spies and assassins, Amity – have been vital in rebuilding Ravnica following the damages caused by Bolas’ minions. Unfortunately, this means they now have their fingers in a lot of city infrastructure, and conventional communication can be… easily compromised.”

“Gotcha, boss.” Luz gave a whimsical salute, retreating to the stairs as the coven witch trailed behind. “We’ll get there as soon as we can. I suppose we’ll meet you back here once we’re done?”

“That works, yes. I’ll see you ladies tonight with the marker and the dossiers you’ll need.” Directing a grateful nod to the duo, the mind mage sat heavily before his creaking desk, and they departed the apartment without further delay.

She managed to suppress the bubbling swarm of realized concerns prickling in her chest until they’d left Beleren’s home and made it to the station he’d pointed out. Then, to both of their shocks, it was Amity to reach out first, snagging her friend in a choking embrace as they stood before the exposed tracks of the tram station, prompting Luz to jerk in surprise, before returning the hug without a thought.

“Hey, what’s the matter? We’re all good!” The human mage seemed a bit unsettled by the witch’s action, patting her comfortably on the shoulder. It wasn’t enough to stop the shudder that ran down Amity’s spine as the fear that had sprouted wracked her. “I doubt this’ll be anything tough. Jace is a pretty good guy, as far as I know -”

“Oh Titan, Luz, it’s not about the damn mail.” They broke apart after another few seconds of lingering warmth, leaving her feeling chilled in the wake of their reestablished distance. “I can’t believe how lucky we got that I didn’t fall asleep when we made camp, that first time. Did you even hear what he said about that oil? If that had reached us…”

The concept that such a substance could warp a person – or an entire world – so thoroughly was utterly horrifying. Its delivery system was insidious, easily concealed and undoubtedly infectious to the core. Even the idea of feeling its terrible effects left her shaken, wondering just how a simple, pathetic fluid could do that to a sentient being. Did it destroy their mind?

Could it change someone’s very soul?

The only comfort she could reaffirm with herself was that if they’d been touched by such a thing, there would almost certainly be signs. Such a weapon did not sound very subtle, barring outstanding circ*mstances. And they would have noticed anything as obscene as… what, becoming a fleshy, metallic scarecrow or some such grotesque thing?

“Amity, listen to me.” Her companion’s fingers dug into the bones of her upper arms, just a smidgen tighter than the grasp had been before, as some of Luz’s own strained feelings surfaced in her sobering expression. “I’m worried about what Jace told us, too. It’s definitely something we’re going to have to keep in mind for part two of this trip. But seriously.” She gave the panicked witch a small shake for emphasis. “As far as we can tell, it didn’t get us, you cleaned us off right after, and I can guarantee if you keep worrying about it this hard you’re gonna go nuts before we even reach New Phyrexia.”

“I know, I know. It’s just…” Glancing at the partially populated landing pad around them, the coven commander made a concerted effort to vocalize her tangled emotions as they fought her steely control. “Before we came here, the danger didn’t really – stick. You know?” Boots clacking on polished stone, Amity pulled away, pacing about as she thought aloud. “We saw the ships, and the training grounds, and the portal frames. But none of it was… insidious. Concerning, yes, but not something you could ever call blatantly evil.”

“Yeah, uh, mind controlling people and turning them into freaky cyborgs while you eat up their planet definitely falls under something I’d say is pretty ‘evil.’” Palming the nape of her neck, Luz grimaced at the reminder.

“Exactly.” She stared into the uncomfortable mage’s blinking eyes, her own gaze severe. “And now we’ve encountered witnesses of that weapon being used. It exists. It works. Our only hope is that it’s either too costly to use consistently – which doesn’t seem likely, given the literal ocean of it we found – or that they can’t transport it any further. For whatever reason.”

“…Yeah.” The creeping concern etched itself into Luz’s features as they stood together, looking for anything that might distract them, until the clatter and rumble of another engine came rolling into port.

“Tell me more about the city,” Amity stated as they took their seats on the padded bench. “Anything. Everything. As long as it gets our minds off this mess.”

“Ha! Gladly.”

A tentative smile gracing her lips once more, Luz set off on a rambling dialogue regarding the sea of concrete and sandstone passing them by, occasionally pointing out the window at some particular item that grabbed her attention. She let herself doze off as they crossed a span equal to lesser metropolises, absentmindedly absorbing the slow shifts in form and function as they raced away from the heart of Ravnica’s upper class and towards the destitution of the worker’s gatherings. Sleep was not something she desired, though – the witch feared what terrors might skitter through her subconscious after the information Jace Beleren had foisted upon them.

Towers and drake roosts slid by like oil, slowly whittled away towards the ground far below as the average heights of each structure slipped further and further downwards, their bricks worn by age and graffiti. Luz quietly pointed out the overlap in gang signage and guild markings, how the vandalism demarked both official guild territory and the small spaces carved apart by the guildless, respectful of Amity’s half-asleep state. By the time their train stopped, the tumultuous clash of cultures had faded somewhat, and they were squarely in the zone of what her friend called the ‘Golgari.’

“They handle a lot of the grosser jobs in the city limits,” She described as they passed through twisting roads packed with shady humanoids and shambling, blighted forms that Amity skirted. “Prep and disposal of the deceased, fungus farming, manual labor, all that stuff. They’re the best at what they do.” Tapping her chin in thought, the mage hummed as they passed by the low-slung sloops of dimly lit businesses, their interiors burning with phantasmal light. “Actually, they’re in charge of regular recycling and trash, too. It’s part of how the streets stay pretty clean.”

Amity wasn’t certain clean accurately encapsulated the boroughs they walked by. Certainly, there was little in the way of refuse or outright grime – but somehow, the inhabitants of the area had managed to capture an eternal sensation of dusk amongst the twisted bricks and spires of their home, locking the streets in gloomy twilight to spite the burn of the sun above. On the roads where breezy willows and looming fungal trees spun from the walkways, will-o-wisps darting between their branches and casting the darkened storefronts in a merry glow, she could see the appeal. It did little to deaden the sight of crumbling buildings and defaced shops where they appeared, though.

…She’d be kind, and just chalk the destitution up to the recent turmoil on the plane for the moment.

They lost track of time, hunting down Jace’s given address, following the occasional sign of warped bark strung from wrought-iron lampposts to find their way through the dark. Luz didn’t seem overly bothered by the odd neighborhoods, well at ease as they walked the streets. Amity couldn’t tell if such a non-reaction was borne from familiarity, or confidence in their abilities. Perhaps both, seeing as most who gave them more than a passing glance seemed the frailest of the bunch, rotten flesh or sunless skin flashing in the sun as some of the clearly undead inhabitants shambled off to their destinations.

“I’m assuming it’s normal for zombies to be walking around here, and not just a remnant of that ‘War’ you’re all so fond of referencing.”

“Hm? Oh! The rot farmhands.” Her companion nodded towards a gaggle of ghouls in sight, their pack headed by a skeleton bound in weeds in rusting platemail as they marched by. “Yeah, the Golgari are super big on necromancy, since it has to do with their spiritual beliefs about things like life and death. Honestly, it’s never bugged me too much before, since most of their guys are for picking mushrooms and eating trash.” Her eyes narrowed briefly, stopping to stare more openly at the passing group with pursed lips. “Though I am a little leerier of them these days considering. You know. Everything that’s happened over the last few months.”

Oh, joy of joys. Normalized usage of cadavers for labor. That didn’t smack of another undead apocalypse simply waiting to happen.

Whatever – that wasn’t Amity’s problem until it started, so she was more than willing to ignore it. If anything, it was more off-putting that Luz evidently considered such a thing normal enough to be unbothered, when she’d been so adverse to displays of dark magic and the restless dead in the past. Perhaps it was because, as she said, such things weren’t done out of any sort of malicious desire?

Their guts were rumbling and the sun was arcing high by the time their target came into sight, based on the navigation assistance available to them. The apartment block stood as a dark mirror to Jace’s own housing, its walls unsettlingly organic as they curved and bubbled upwards. No extravagant dome formed its peak, instead giving way to a rooftop stretch of greenery hosting a truly impressive set of swamp trees. Admittedly, they were quite beautiful, obviously well cared for even at a distance… but Amity had to admit, she was much more a fan of the ordered gardens they’d first arrived upon than the wild scrabble of shrubbery present in Precinct Six.

No security slowed their pace, the front desk seemed more a formality than a proper posting – the coven witch frowned bemusedly at the sight; leaving the building entrance unattended seemed an odd choice for such a large residence. It wasn’t until they ascended the spiraling stairs that she caught wind of the subtle defense worked into the building. Craggy faces, cleverly disguised within the bark of the wooden landings and columns, peered out as they passed with observant eyes. Following her hunch, Amity glanced up at the drapery of vines and interwoven flowers that bordered the walls of the stair – and sure enough, they quivered with unnatural vigor as the girls moved past their resting spots.

Whoever – or whatever – lived in this building wanted its walls and halls to seem unimportant to the unobservant, without compromising security. Just who had they been sent to visit?

Without a frame of visual reference, they had no idea how the chambers they passed were spaced. None of their doorways seemed evenly placed, though they were thankfully easy to navigate. This was, hands down, one of the most surreal experiences Amity’d had in a while. It was not at all normal to be consulting floor maps set in the walls of intersections, carved from living wood oozing with sap, as skeletal servants passed them in the hall laden down by towels and laundry. Luz’s reaction was no less bewildered, though she seemed a good sport about the whole thing, which was more than the witch was willing to say about herself.

Locating their target, and without further ado, Amity rapped her knuckles against the largest door on the upper floor, its corridor clearly guarded by fleshless skeletons embedded within its walls. After a moment’s hesitation, the portal swung inwards, and the pair of adventurers came face to face with a surprised snake woman.

On a second bout of examination, that description didn’t fully fit – yes, their letter recipient was tall and lithe like a serpent, her scalp playing host to a writhing bundle of tentacled tails that seemed to flex in tune with the expression crossing her features. More importantly, however, were the burning golden eyes that had Amity freezing in place, thankfully not literally. The Boiling Isles was home to many a dangerous individual, made even more so by the wild mutations present in demonic populations, but the witch was not unfamiliar with the cold visage of a gorgon when she saw one.

Dark rumors abounded in the depths of the Emperor’s castle, casting glaring comparisons between the enchanted stone gaze of murderous reptilian females, and the wretched thing their liege used to petrify the most dangerous of criminals caught by his loyal devotees. Some of the older guards told ghost tales of tormented screams and shattered statues below the foundation of the fortress, but they were stories – nothing more. Or so Amity hoped.

Clamping down on her jumping nerves, the young witch shifted forward to make the first move.

“Hello, ma’am. We’re here to deliver a message for you – your eyes only.” Realizing the unintentional wordplay only after it had escaped, she leaned over to elbow Luz in the ribs when the exotic woman glanced down to her extended hand, putting a quick end to the girl’s subdued mirth as the envelope was delicately plucked from her extended fingers.

“I do hope…” Their letter’s recipient spoke in a deep reverberation, regal and slithering all in one musical tone, her slit irises running over the folded parchment curiously. “That if this is an assassination attempt of some sort, you have assistance waiting in the wings. A frontal confrontation is rather bold. But I’ll still give you credit for your temerity.”

“Ah, no, no desire for murder here.” Luz swiftly flapped her hands in surrender, her small grin growing strained at the implication. “Just trading favors for favors. It’s from, um, Jace Beleren. Used to be pretty important here? Likes the color blue too much?”

“Oh.”

Without warning, their lanky counterpart’s stiff, challenging posture gave way – slumping into unamused irritation as she held the letter high over one shoulder, aggravation snarling her expression.

“So, our once and former Guildpact is too high and mighty to deliver mail the proper way these days?” The undertone of venom in the gorgon’s words could have etched steel. “Or, perhaps, simply use a courier hawk? Instead, he contracts unfortunate strangers to spat with others, now.”

Sharing an uncertain glance with Luz, Amity turned a neutral look on the towering lizardfolk, features set in determination.

“He seemed concerned about interception of whatever was in the letter by interested third parties. Presumably, he believed the same of a singular airborne transport.” Feeling her annoyance at the awkward situation they’d been pawned off onto grow, the witch folded her arms defensively, tilting her head towards the letter clasped between two manicured fingers. “Mister Beleren is providing us with a rather important service, so if you could at least give his writing a glance, we’d appreciate the confirmation the message made its way into your hands.”

So we can leave, her flat glare said, and all of our time will stop being wasted.

“Of course. Excuse me for just a minute.” Unintimidated by Amity’s attitude, the woman stepped back from the door, letting it swing partially closed as the faint sound of torn paper snuck past the crack.

They stood there, for a few lengthy minutes, before the darkly-scaled woman gave a grunt of intrigued surprise, slipping away from the entrance without a word. She returned just as the ensorcelled letter in her grip faded into wispy sapphire dust, streaming towards a cracked-open window just on the edge of their sight. Something in the gorgon’s posture had softened further, a faraway look in her predatory gaze as she hefted a small, tumbling sack in her smooth palm.

“My apologies for the hostile greeting, girls. I’ve been under an enormous amount of stress as of late, what with the reconstruction and running an entire guild most days.” Wait a moment, this woman was… who was Jace sending them after without even a sliver of warning!? “Please give Mister Beleren my regards. Most likely, he already knows he has them, seeing as the letter had an enchantment built in so I could respond.”

She passed the jingling bag to the human mage, who took it gratefully, tucking it in her larger money satchel at her hip.

“It’s not much, but I think I can at least afford to pay for your lunch.” Grimacing briefly, the stranger looked back towards the interior of her apartment. “There hasn’t been a bit of food through these rooms that isn’t leftover takeout in well over a month. However…” For the first time, a bit of a slim smile appeared on her thin lips as she leaned in conspiratorially. “If you’re looking for a good layover before you return to Precinct One, I would recommend O’Malley’s Swamp, a block north of the nearest tram station. If they ask, tell them Vraska sent you. You have my word they make an amazing gumbo. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Thanks for the advice, ma’am. Glad to be of service.” Luz gave her a simple nod before turning on her heel, the pair stepping away so that the sturdy oaken doors could close upon them.

Returning to the intersection that hosted the sprawling apartment complex they’d departed, ruminating on the odd conversation they’d just had, Amity caught her friend’s excited expression as she gazed towards the aforementioned restaurant, where it lay only blocks away.

“Gumbo for lunch?” She questioned pleadingly, a mischievous look in place.

“Alright, fine. Gumbo.”

In Luz’s eagerness to try new and delicious dishes, she missed the heartfelt grin that graced Amity’s face as the human mage let out a whoop of anticipation, charging off into the great unknown.

Bold sunlight had faded into a mellow evening mélange by the time they approached the steps of Beleren’s expansive residence for the second time that day. Bellies full and hearts lighter after the disturbing news from prior hours, the girls were glad to meet the mind mage as he descended from his proverbial tower, tugging at the neckline of a new outfit. It was some odd blend of dusky cobalt robes intermingling with more formal attire, shedding the airy teals of his previous cloak for something more fitting for a ballroom dance.

Thinking back on the regal gorgon’s fond expression after reading his letter, and the way she’d bustled off with a hum, the witch felt a curious mix of amusem*nt and exasperation that they’d played wingman for Jace’s date that night.

Oh, well. At least it was honest work, if tedious and not a little overdramatic.

“My thanks, ladies.” Jace called as they intersected beneath the apartment’s awning, his eyes dancing warmly with gratitude. “You don’t know quite how much that little trip of yours means to me.”

“Hey, gotta help a guy out every so often, right?” Clearly having caught on to the subtext of the telepath’s sensitive correspondence as well, the lithe elementalist gave him a playful nudge and a wink, eliciting a nervous grin from the taller man.

“Certainly. And speaking of things along those lines…” Mana crackled in his palms, summoning the small sphere he’d shown them earlier, along with a bound scroll container, into his waiting hands. “I’ve provided you with as much information as I can regarding the ‘walkers I’m aware of who’ve had notable interactions with Phyrexians. The marker has enough of a charge to hunt down most of them, and you should theoretically be able to energize it with some meditation and blue mana. But to avoid any undue, ah – difficulties, I’d recommend trying to avoid doing that.”

“Thanks again!” Slipping their prizes into her bottomless pack, Luz turned her gaze back to the waiting mind mage, a bit of curiosity flitting over her expression. “Hey, so, it seemed like you and your friend had a bit of nasty business between the both of you. At least, she definitely gave that impression. You’re not walking into a dinner date to the death, right? ‘Cause it’d be a poor way to repay you, watching you walk off to your stony doom or something.”

“Well, it couldn’t have been that bad, if she agreed to a meal and a show.” Jace gave a gusty sigh, his simmering anxiety burning through his outer cheer, and he turned worried eyes towards the other mage. “I recently had a… change of heart, after a trip to Zendikar. Are you familiar?”

The teasing joy fell from Luz’s eyes, leaving her to nod solemnly, giving a low hum of affirmation.

“I and another friend of mine had a rather serious disagreement there, regarding the fate of the plane. After defeating the Eldrazi, after forming the Gatewatch… she’s much more protective of her home than before.” Pain tightened his features with a twist. “And in her mind, I didn’t have her or her world’s best interests at heart, whereas she was more willing to make sacrifices than I to protect it. Even if that meant giving up powerful opportunities.”

His face puckered, as if he’d bitten into bitter citrus.

“I still think she was being a bit bullheaded,” Jace admitted softly. “But our spat made me realize that even if that were the case, I know I’ve been burning bridges with my attitude in the past. After so much we’ve gone through, I consider my morals important to me.” Blue eyes slipped closed with his words. “However, standing all alone because you won’t work harder for compromise is not something I’ve found I enjoy.”

Another, shorter breath of air left his lips.

“So, after that debacle, I’ve decided to try and put aside some of my inflexibility, and work for second chances.” A rueful smile grew in melancholy’s place. “I’ve also been told that twenty-seven years old is too young to be living with regrets anyhow. Might as well try and buck the trend, as it were.”

Jace’s head jerked up, piercing gaze looming through the descending gloom as he caught sight of his approaching date.

“On that note, I do believe I have some apologies to be made. Thank you both once again for your help tonight.” Hesitating for a moment, the lanky mage clapped them both on the shoulder, some of his earlier confidence raising its head. “Amity, I wish you luck with your explorations of the multiverse. Your first few worlds are always the most exciting, though I understand your missions is somewhat less than desirable. Luz -” His attention swiveled to the tanned girl in his grasp. “I’m glad to see you’ve been doing fine as of late. And… well. I don’t mean to pry, but – you may wish to visit Zendikar someday soon. It’s come a long way from the days of the Eldrazi. It might do you good to see it healing.”

“Yeah. I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

Apology flashing across his face in the early evening light, the cloaked scholar gave them a parting nod, turning on his heel to meet the regal gorgon striding down the street.

“Good luck, both of you. I hope to see you again when you get the opportunity.”

They watched his retreating back, wrapped in a jacket that fluttered with the cooling thermals of the late day, taking in how his posture loosened with every step towards the bemused woman awaiting him. The pair exchanged low words, too distant to hear with the lofty breeze circling the street, but the gorgon’s challenging expression swiftly melted for something much fonder than before. Jace leaned in close, some witty comment lost on the wind, looking as if he might go in for a kiss if his partner would allow it – only for one of the tendrils bedecking her scalp to lunge forward, yanking his hood up over his eyes and sending the composed mage stumbling. The peal of laughter that escaped was bright and clear as a bell, bookmarking her offered arm that the recovering telepath gladly took.

Not quite certain she wanted to see the remnants of whatever horrid memories their benefactor had accidentally drudged up on Luz’s face, Amity said the first thing that came to mind.

“They make a pretty cute couple, don’t they?”

Shaking herself from haunted reverie, her friend gave a small smile, watching the pair shrink into the distance.

“Definitely.”

The human mage made a comment about bedding for the night, glancing at Amity to gesture forward, and the duo took off at a sedate pace for the nearest motel Luz could recall nearby. All the while, though, the witch thought of Jace’s parting admissions of initiative and relationships, her eyes tracking Luz’s back in contemplation the entire way.

“Alright, so, let’s take a look at what our main man was able to dig up.”

They unraveled the packaged scroll across the rumpled covers of the cheap hostel room, spreading out each curled document so that they could read them side by side, eager to see what leads Beleren had found.

Almost immediately, they encountered resounding disappointment.

“Dead, missing in action, dead, a criminal assassinated by another 'walker, busy on Innistrad – wherever that is – and two almost unaccounted for, disregarding month-old reports.” Amity recited the information on each dossier page in turn, glancing at Luz with tired eyes. “Not very promising, to be frank. If Jace had needed anything more involved than a simple letter drop-off for this, I’d be hunting him down for a refund right about now.”

“Okay, hold on. There’s gotta be something helpful here.” The human mage snatched the papers from her loose fist, a bit of desperation lending itself to the movement. “I… really do not want to go back to Innistrad. A lot of bad memories with that place. But…”

Parchment shuffled back and forth, her determined friend burning holes through the sheets with the force of her gaze.

“All of these ‘walkers were bouncing around the multiverse like crazy.” A thoughtful hum escaped her as fingers tapped a dance across her chin. “There’s no guarantee that they’ll stay in any one place for too long, so we’ll have to be pretty quick. But, with Jace’s marker…” She hefted the enchanted orb in question, tossing it gently into the air like a mere ball as the blank face of the parchment mocked their efforts.

“Whoever we choose to track down, we’ll have to pick wisely,” Amity cautioned, looking to the sphere in Luz’s palm. “There’s only so many chances we’ll get with that, and there’s no guarantee it can actively track someone if they’re moving.”

They looked over the forms once more, staring at the bolded text highlighting the life and times of their distant kin. A knight, a conniving cyborg, an artificer, lost to time; a warrior native to New Phyrexia, trapped somewhere within its depths; a golem, ancient wizard and cat-man, all pursuing their own agendas on some far-flung world. Not a single one sounded trustworthy – or available – enough for Amity’s liking, and so she deferred to Luz’s expertise. Not only was the other girl more experienced, but as far as the witch was concerned, if Luz could figure out a way to wring friendly relations from herself of all people, then the human would find the best bet for locating assistance.

Her decision came after a moment’s silence.

“Him. The big kitty.” She lifted the page in question, squinting at the smudged ink beneath the dim ceiling lamp. “’Ajani Goldmane.’ He was another guy that stuck around to help with the final push on Bolas. If I remember correctly, he was a big fan of either healing the wounded, or smacking around crystal zombies with an axe the size of a tree.”

“Sounds like he’d be fun at a party.” Amity deadpanned, scooping the stray sheets from their resting place for the evening and tossing them aside with a flick of the wrist. “I call dibs on first shower, by the way.”

“Wuh – hey, that’s not fair!” Luz sputtered, looking utterly betrayed by the non-sequitur from the pale witch. Amity smirked at her reddening cheeks.

“Too bad. No peeking, now.” Her grin curled even further as the other girl erupted into a full-on blush, a bit of uncharacteristic thrill running through her gut at the bold-faced flirt. Amity still hadn’t forgotten the red-faced mess her friend had left her that day in the market, and was determined to make her pay in due time for such an embarrassment. It felt… safe, now, to speak about such things, even in a joking sense.

Luz had stuck by her side through fire and flame, thus far. She was the first friend to the youngest Blight in a long while, and after the things they’d spoken about around that doomed campfire on the shores of Old Phyrexia…

It was most certainly food for thought. Looming danger had a certain way of pressing the point on things like love and war, something that the approach of their next target was leaving all the clearer.

Amity wouldn’t let opportunity slip through her fingers as it had done so, time and time again. She was sure of it.

At first glance, Amity almost believed she’d fallen into the crack between worlds as she’d laid down to close her eyes, falling into the gaping maw of the Eternities that robbed her of eyes and flesh and voice as payment for its crossing. She couldn’t call into the misty void about here, only pad without sensation across the ghostly ground – except no, the realm beyond space and time didn’t have a floor. Nor looming trees grasping through the fog, their bark hides ghastly and pale in the unlight that surrounded her.

Had she the ability to draw breath, perhaps fear might have ruled Amity – but she couldn’t feel her lungs, and a Blight was brave besides. No unearthly woods would make her stray the path. With that thought, half-buried in groggy wakefulness as it was, she set off down the ‘trail’ that unspooled before her like a rolling stretch of twine.

She found a proper clearing the woods, a clear break in the trees where a handful of knee-high shrubs interspersed the grassless forest floor. Her fingers were wispy, incorporeal and unable to touch the strange plant life with its marbled leaves, and it was wit ha sudden jolt of dread that she recognized the strange dream world the witch walked.

Before panic could develop, an irate voice rung from the brush, smothered by the fringes of non-Euclidean geometry.

“Oh, we’re really doing this load of mierda again? C’mon, man! I just want to get some sleep.”

Luz stepped into the clearing, her silhouette unwavering and full of color, unlike the greyscale ghost of Amity’s body. That didn’t stop the coven deputy from taking a step closer, opening her mouth in a silent query – no, what stopped them both was the bush that burst into flames before them, leaving the mages stumbling back as it roared into a towering bonfire.

The ageless echo of an unearthly baritone emanated from the pyre, striking her with a bolt of anxiety.

“And so, you have witnessed the horrors of the Phyrexians firsthand. I am glad to see you’ve both survived.”

“Oh really? Because it certainly didn’t seem like it.” A bitter snarl stole over Luz’s lips, her arms crossing belligerently as she stared the crackling inferno with a bullheaded look. “You tossed us, headfirst, into that mess without a single actual detail about what we’d find. You didn’t say anything about their damn oil! You ignited Amity’s spark!” The girl was nearly working herself into a froth with every accusation. “And, what, you expect us to trust you!? Just skedaddle back home with a skip to turn in our report cards or something?”

“I desire your trust, but do not expect it. Nor is it required – I know both of you are well beyond abandoning a task simply because it is dangerous.” Somehow, she could tell that the Titan’s attention had turned to her ethereal form, a shiver slithering down her nonexistent spine as it reoriented to gaze upon her insignificant mind. “Their weaponry is dangerous, to be certain, but I knew you would be able to avoid its grasp. Amity Blight is a full-blooded witch, her ancestors all convergent lines of power – her instincts would not fail you both, so long as you cooperated. And here you are, unmolested.”

She really wanted to know what that comment was supposed to mean, but the Titan’s avatar was already refocused on Luz’s defiant stance, unblinking and unyielding.

“Had I warned you of what must have been done to provide her a means of navigating the multiverse, you would have balked. Additionally, had she been aware of my intent, her subconscious would never have believed the danger of my assault, and she would be left without the abilities necessary to assist your journey. You cannot survive on your own in this endeavor, Luz Noceda.”

“That was never a problem, you raging prick,” The human mage snapped, glaring about the clearing in a huff. “And if you think she’s so important to getting things done, why’d you only bring me for a little fireside chat? I’m not the only person who had her feet on the ground.”

“Amity Blight is present for this meeting.” The Titan boomed, a tone of patient explanation overtaking its monotonous recitation. “Our minds have met at a crossroad between worlds, but my ability to draw upon your essences is still reliant upon your connections to the lands of my flesh. She has unlocked but a fraction of the mana you wield from your time upon my shores, and thus, she is left weakened in this place.”

Recognizing the confusion spreading across her friend’s face, Amity ghosted closer, waving her misty limbs before Luz who stumbled a half-step back as her transparent form made itself known. Eyes wide, the human made an aborted attempt at touching the witch’s shoulder, before her face set in a defensive scowl and she placed herself between girl and Titan, lifting her chin at the primordial god before them.

“Well, why are we here? Did you want an actual report or not?”

“Amity’s thoughts shall reveal the truth of the matter where her voice cannot, and aid your own words. Now.

Tell me everything.”

It could’ve been hours or mere minutes that saw their tale laid bare before their temporary master, with Luz providing a begrudging narration that did an admirable job of covering most everything they’d seen and found. She even went so far as to inform the Titan of their current preparations regarding hunting down the location of New Phyrexia, and how the reach of the once-conquerors had made its mark upon the community of worldly travelers over the years.

Every so often, Amity ‘interjected,’ recalling particular details with a silent set of gestures that seemed perfectly able to convey her point to the god of the Isles. In spite of its claims that it couldn’t draw upon her mind further, intent still communicated easily in the dreamscape, and she felt doubt at its words. Internally, though, she was relieved that it had not invaded her mind once more, nor could it. Luz’s protective stance shielding her from the bonfire’s line of sight would have been ultimately futile, otherwise, but the gesture still warmed her heart with undercurrents of blossoming affection.

After a time, the Titan seemed satisfied with their recollections, somewhere around the point that the shadows began to lengthen in the unwaking world around them.

“You have done well thus far,” It claimed, looming over the intrepid pair of adventurers. “Our time here grows short, however. I cannot delay the waking of your minds across the boundaries of space and time. If you hold any further questions, voice them now.”

Frankly, the pale witch had quite a lot, but she wasn’t able to fully put them forward without a functioning set of dream-lungs, at least without colluding with Luz ahead of time. They were fruitless, frivolous things anyway, bundles of hurt at her mistreatment by something she all but worshipped as a god, thoughts that clearly held no meaning to the uncaring thing that watched her now. Luz, however, stepped forward with a curious gleam in her eye, like she’d stumbled upon some great insight.

“When we found Phyrexia’s core, there were a bunch of mummies down there. The thing is, with how nasty that whole place is, there’s no way bodies like that could survive for thousands of years.” She ticked off her fingers as she spoke, going down the list of the oddities they’d uncovered in their exploration of the dead world. “Metal was rusted, but not so bad everything was in pieces. A lot of the machinery was old but looked like it might be serviceable. You told me once that you’ve been fiddling around in the Demon Realm for eons, but there’s no way that lines up with what we were seeing there. So – what gives?”

Flames shifted and crackled, the mind of the Titan turning over in ponderance of her wonderings. After a time, it responded in a flat voice.

“Your observations are correct. By recent estimates, the fall of Phyrexia has occurred only within the past millennium, perhaps only a few centuries. But my vigil over my world has been much longer than that.”

“Okay. How, exactly?”

Trees fell away from the edges of the clearing, replaced by a faint overlay of starry skies and swirling nebula, each twinkling with the burning span of their ferocious energies. Distantly, a great world loomed over them all, its surface enwrapped by deep oceans and sprawling continents.

“When my master began construction of my body and soul -” Hey, wait a minute, Amity felt like they were skipping some details here… “He sought a safe haven where I might enact my growth cycle without interruption or delay. His homeworld, Dominaria – war-torn and under threat of invasion – was not a suitable candidate for such a tremendous undertaking.”

Stardust and asteroids spun into view, coalescing violently high above the world’ glimmering atmosphere, smashing and melding into the beginnings of a planetoid.

“Urza required more than could be found in any meaningful timeframe, and thus, sought to create such a fortress for himself. Or, more accurately, a number of such bastions.”

Celestial forces tumbled and combined, a tumultuous mash of billions of years compacted by the will of one godlike man into one, then two, then a dozen twisting orbs wrapped in the streamers of life’s origins, water and iron and carbon woven into a tapestry that mimicked the birth of complex organisms under the gaze of their mother-world.

“One such world became what you both know now as the ‘Demon Realm.’ It is here that my genesis began.”

A corona of new planets swooped into being, orbiting Dominaria’s globe like solitary moons, before winking out like fading stars as they slid into place in the greater scheme of the multiverse. Amity couldn’t have torn her eyes from the glorious vision if she’d tried.

“Alas, in the time since Phyrexia’s defeat, life has not stood still. Countless stories have been spun into being, each a tale unto itself, and many of them collide in unexpected ways. One such intersection came from the instabilities introduced to Domnaria and its purpose as the center of the multiverse, created in the wake of thoughtless experiments with time and space by those desperate to save life as they knew it.”

The diagram zoomed out by lightyears, showing a tremendous web of worlds and stars interconnected by strands of light and mana – only for the array to fracture, with the world of the Titan’s creator splintering off from the heart of reality, dragging a number of worlds in its rending wake.

“The universe was left unmoored, floundering in the face of the terrific forces once wielded as last resorts against the Phyrexian offensive. And with it came the satellite worlds of Dominaria, cast about on the tides of linear time, slipping from their core like grains of sand.”

A grave horror seemed to enter its voice without conscious intent, the weight of ages dripping from every word.

“In time, the wounds dotting reality were mended, sealed by a grand sacrifice that saw space rewritten to stricter laws that stitched our worlds back into the canvas of the greater whole. It is the selfsame event that robbed your kind of their deific power, rendering them all but mortal once more.

Before salvation came, however, many years passed within my drifting, shattered world where I lay, rotting and alone, feeling every cell of mine turn first to gristle and then stone.”

The Titan spoke in barely a whisper.

“Many, many years, indeed. More than enough time to plot and plan.”

Awestruck, Luz seemed ready to unleash a barrage of questions upon their interrogator, but the godlike being seemed weary of such painful remembrance. Despite her burgeoning disgust with the Titan, Amity’s gut clenched in sympathy at the sentiment.

“Our time has passed, and the night wears on. May fortune favor you upon the next leg of your journey.”

The drag of normal sleep was already pulling on Amity’s spirit, tugging her back into the folds of comforting darkness and out of Luz’s ephemeral arms, the human mage opening her mouth for one last hurried request –

The Titan’s dreamscape faded in her mind’s eye, melting into the depths of the evening and leaving as many questions as it did answers.

Amity, however, slept on undisturbed by further wretched dreams, relaxed in the grasp of sweet oblivion for the night.

Chapter 27

Chapter Text

Trailing Jace’s probe proved no more difficult than tracking the comet trail of another passing planeswalker – the runed little orb blasted ahead of their path, cutting through the murky tides of the Blind Eternities by dint of Luz and Amity’s presence, nestled within the corona of their power as it guided them onward into the metaphysical sea.

Their journey remained smooth and untroubled for its majority, altering only once the ethereal horizon of a brilliant world glimmered into view of their souls, brimming with crawling life and unfettered mana flues wrapped about its intense presence like burrowing roots. Their enchanted guide seemed to stumble, for lack of a better word, as the duo approached the magnetic pull of realspace beneath the streams of aether. Luz could sympathize – it felt as if a morning jog had been impeded by a sudden spurt of cracked and bulging sidewalk, the wounds of some tremendous calamity once passed leaving their mark so deeply entrenched that it transcended conventional reality.

Regardless, the humming device did not falter further, and tugged against the grasp of her will towards one of the stitched fragments of land below that echoed most strongly of plains and forest and the warm, summer pull of writhing seas. The pressing sensation of dissonance in the plane’s core faded as the human and her witch companion descended towards their chosen landing grounds, agitated swells of mana fading into the background for the moment as existence faded into being before them once more.

Luz emerged, blinking, into the bold face of simmering day upon the open savannah. Feeling the packed dirt press against the soles of her boots, stumbling under the oppressive rays of baking heat, she could almost imagine they’d returned to the Boiling Isles amidst its hottest season – only for the crash and tumble of distant waves to help assuage any lingering confusion. The brilliant sapphire sea encapsulating the distant horizon met the massive plains in a gentle slope, not the harsh climb of bony cliffs, hewn from the Titan’s carcass. Seaside outcroppings dotted the water’s edge, rising into soft hills, but none of the jagged harshness of the Demon Realm existed in their newest destination.

Sensing Amity simmering into being behind her, the fading whisps of a completed planeswalk melting into the background noise of the world’s aethersphere, Luz released the sleek form of Jace’s invention into the air –

Only to lurch forward, hands cupped to catch the trinket as its humming form drooped, the etched lines of glowing blue magic crisscrossing its hull dimming in the bright light of the afternoon. Her friend stepped up beside her, both of them inspecting their intrepid navigator as it droned lowly, laying listless amongst her fingers.

“Seems like Beleren overestimated his mileage on this thing.” A dull tinkling rang from its side as Amity wrapped a gloved nail against its surface, before glancing up at Luz. “Do you think you can refuel it with blue mana? There’s no point in going all the way back to Ravnica if we can keep it charged on our own.”

Her digits curled over the warm shell as a frown tugged at her lips.

“Lemme give it a shot…”

With the warm pulse of the nearby sea at her back, it was child’s play to dip into the plane’s native mana, weaving it into the thin band of magic that spanned worlds to find her and direct a brief, but intense, jolt of concentrated spellpower to the recalcitrant artifact.

With a buzz, the drone jumped into the air, shuddering as its small capacitor soaked in the arcane charge provided by the mage. After a moment’s hesitation, Luz felt its enchantment brush across the surface of her mind once more, skimming the girl’s thoughts for the keyword that would see them moving forward – and it set off at a sedate pace through the sluggish summer atmosphere, parallel to the coast that bordered their right flank.

“Guess that answers that,” Luz commented with self-satisfaction, dusting her hands off with a clap as she directed a small grin towards the pale witch. “Shouldn’t be too much of an issue to keep the little guy trucking along if that’s all it needs. Ready to get going?”

By the time they came across any meaningful sign of civilization, the sky was shot through with bands of deep purples and oranges, and Luz considered the reprieve a blessing.

It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the globetrotting necessities of their visits to prior worlds, since departing the Isles – quite the opposite, in fact. Peacefully digesting the sounds and sights of wondrous new planes, letting the tendrils of her influence propagate throughout the land and link new wellsprings of mana to the young mage’s mind, making thoughtful conversation and observations alongside good company… it was the sort of experience she’d yearned for, years ago, thrown to the whiles of fate as home after home burnt away from beneath her feet. With a mission nipping at her heels and monsters around every other corner, truly relaxing while crossing the multiverse could be a difficult feat to achieve.

Unfortunately, it seemed that such worries were determined to rear their heads once more, and Luz was more than happy to accept more impactful distractions than a pleasant nature hike.

Jace’s parting words had haunted her through the fitful sleep she’d managed in that dingy hostel room back on Ravnica, and they’d certainly persisted through the pervasive silence of the two girls trudging onwards in the wake of their well-earned tool. The knowing, weary look in the mind mage’s crystalline eyes as he stared down at her, sympathy tugging at the corner of his mouth.

‘…You may wish to visit Zendikar… it may do you some good to see it healing.’

It wasn’t that she hadn’t properly comprehended what his and his companions’ victory over the encroaching Eldrazi Titans had meant, shortly after her flight from the world in question. The self-proclaimed had held the line at the immense port city of Sea Gate, had felled the great alien intelligences that sought to consume Zendikar to its bedrock and make off like thieves into the night, another plane in their monstrous sights. Heck, the continued presence – and good health – of Big Green even pointed to the improving state of her once-home, and the elemental had never seemed too perturbed by its own inhuman considerations whenever the girl had time to summon him for a brief visit.

A part of her, though, still felt the stomach-curdling terror that had seen her second planeswalk taking Luz far, far away from the final gasps of her second family. Every so often, she’d be shaken from slumber by the return of that dreadful night beneath her shuttered eyelids, and the girl would wake with a strangled gasp entwined with a pounding heart. The nightmares had lessened, with time, and her self-control in the wee hours of the morning had only grown since that fateful day. Luz had managed not to wake anyone with her screams for a long time.

That didn’t mean that her hands didn’t shake and her brow slicked with sweat the few times she’d considered, really truly thought, about going back. Back to that familiar patch of jungle where everything would almost certainly be pounded flat into flaky dust, where no life would grow ever again even as the rest of Zendikar moved on, and healed, and forgot who and what they had lost –

It was all well and good that the vigorous, untamed plane she once loved could move past the scars that littered its surface. That didn’t mean she wanted to see the ones where the wound ran too deep to hide beneath a veneer of new growth.

Sometimes, Luz reflected with a sardonic snort, it felt like she and Amity had spent their entire ‘quest’ volleying back and forth on who’s personal hang-ups took center stage for each leg of the journey.

And so it was with no small sigh of relief from her pressing thoughts that they came upon the first town they’d found following their arrival, the human mage mouthing her silent thanks to the heaven… only to wince, moments later, as she and the coven deputy took in a more detailed view of the village below.

Perhaps even calling it a ‘village’ was going a little too far – the cozy collection of whitestone buildings amidst the sea of wooden shanties barely covered a square mile as it butted up against the peaceful tides lapping at the powdery shore, taking advantage of a natural swell in the terrain to construct a measly assemblage of piers that strung themselves above the briny waters like skeletal fingers. Great wooden posts ringed the encampment, reminiscent of the same defenses they’d found defending Angrath’s home from exterior invasion – except the fortifications before them had clearly seen better days. The few swathes of wall that hadn’t been torn down to their base by some monstrous beast were scuffed and scraped to pieces, a ramshackle defense that spoke poorly of the small hovel’s capacity to protect itself from the outside world.

“Ouch...” A hissing breath slipped between Luz’s clenched teeth as they took in the dismissal sight before them, her gaze briefly skirting to the expanse of forest she could spy beyond the furthest edge of the township’s gates. “This place is looking rough.”

Amity took a moment to run a critical eye over the pathetic bastion of wood and twined boards, a troubled hum echoing low in her throat, before she stepped forward down the hillside.

“So long as they have food and beds, it’ll work for now.”

“Amen to that, sister.” She cracked her lower spine with both hands for emphasis, a brief grunt wheezing out as the limber human shook their walk’s strain from her ligaments. “It’s a good thing I kept up with my cardio before I showed up on the Isles. Can you imagine how rough this all would’ve been if neither us bothered taking a hike every once in a while? I’d probably spend the whole time feeling like Eda on that one trip.”

Her friend quirked a brow at her over one shoulder, a bit of mirth tugging at her lip.

“What, do you mean your little stint up on the Knee? That time where you nearly caused a landslide slinging lightning around with the Owl Lady?”

“Mm-hm.” She bobbed her head in a nod, adjusting the strap of her pack to leave it resting more comfortably across her shoulders. “Did I tell you she decided to wear heels up a mountain?”

The pale witch’s responding laugh was clear and bright in the setting evening air.

It took them only a handful of minutes to come within sight of the paired guards standing atop the frontal barricade, the two shabbily-dressed militiamen glancing down at them in wary interest as their cheap iron hauberks clattered noisily with their shifting. The mind mage’s drone deactivated with a flick of intent, falling into Luz’s waiting grasp to slip quietly within a spare pouch.

“Ho, travelers!” The first man called down to them, his roughshod voice rendering his accent – some dialect faintly similar to Britannic speech – gravely and torn as the guard spoke. “What brings you to Engleton’s lands?”

“Just looking for a place to sleep and a meal to eat, sir!” Luz responded in kind, cupping her palms about her mouth.

Her brow furrowed as the grubby human male shifted in place, sharing an uneasy glance with his coworker, before returning his attention to the two visitors below.

“I s’pose you could find what you’re looking for here.” He gave them a noticeable once-over, expression scrunching with uncertainty. “Have you ladies been traveling all day? Or did you make your way here from the next village over?”

“We’re a bit further out than that.” Amity stepped up beside Luz, features flat as she rested her hands at her belt, the only sign of her growing irritation at the ongoing delay. “I hope that wouldn’t pose a problem for you or your town.”

“Not a problem at all, lass.” The guard shook his head, casting a wary look over his shoulder towards the deep woodlands some ways out, the shadows of approaching dusk slithering between the trees as umbral serpents. “Only that I’d say if you could find it in you to keep walking, I’d tell you it’s better for your health. Raiders ‘round here take a bit too much pleasure in pickin’ us apart night after night.”

Feeling a bit of bravado rise in her breast, Luz allowed a skeletal splash of lightning to skitter over her extended fingertips, quirking an eyebrow at the guards as their gazes tracked the display of magic.

“Bandits aren’t too bad with the right prep – though a little extra firepower always helps.”

The first guard barked out a rough laugh, surprise coloring the utterance.

“Well, you’ve certainly got the stones to be handling the foul ilk that gather ‘round our walls.” He leaned over the battlements, his critical eye gleaming in the deepening dusk. “And you’re a mage, too. The both of you are?”

She glanced at Amity, who simply tugged her blade a few inches free of its sheathe, allowing a whorl of shimmering white to pass over the steel before returning it to its resting place without a word.

“Ha – even better!” Some nugget of hope seemed to swell in the dirty man, and he hopped out of sight to throw open the gate’s latch for the pair, his voice carrying distantly over the wooden pikes. “If you’re willing to lend a hand or two, I’m sure our mayor’d be glad to keep you fed and clothed while you’re in town.” The strapped bundle of poles swung outwards on its creaking axis, allowing the guardsman’s words to ring more clearly in the quiet air as they stepped inside. “Head to the town square – you can’t miss his place. It’s right beside the old tavern. Whether or not he talks you inta pitchin’ in, you’ll find a warm meal and good beds that way.”

Considering they’d yet to find any kind of income, for however long they’d be staying on this plane…

“Can do. Thanks for the advice, sir. Have a nice night!” Passing the duo of watchmen a parting wave, Luz and Amity set off in the man’s suggested direction, tracking their steps between faded cobblestone walls and rickety wooden construction that flooded the streets of Engleton. The setting sun splayed homely shadows over crude houses, the deep orange of seaside light starkly contrasting with the darkened alleyways they passed. Few citizens seemed to be out and about, regardless of the hour – and the handful of humans and lanky, avian beings they did manage to spot were in the midst of all but boarding up their homes as if night itself threatened to chase its way beneath their doors and into their frail houses.

The easygoing grin Luz wore slipped with every harried person they passed, a niggling sense of concern growing in its place. These were not the actions of a society that was in any way secure. Amity seemed tuned into the circling tension as well, and her offhand never left its position beside her undrawn sword as they came upon the center of the darkening hovels.

While the settlement may not have been overtly populous, its precarious state had necessitated the inclusion of a central barracks, a squat multi-story structure of overlapping river stones and pasty mortar that straddled the lot between the townhall – a stately edifice of wood construction, worn at by the grains of time – and the tavern the guard had referenced, an agitated crowd of half-armored soldiers flowing in and out of its doors as the local garrison buzzed with grim looks around the main plaza. Rattling cart wheels mingled with clattering steel and whinnying steeds in a ringing cacophony, men and women darting around shouting orders in addition to every other clashing source of sound.

Banking on the front guardsman’s suggestion, the pair strode past the readied troops towards the open doorway atop the broad stone steps of the main hall, a faint orange light spilling from within. The interior of Engleton’s administrative heart, as small as it may have been, was no less busy than the exterior property. Amity hissed under her breath as they ducked aside to avoid a charging aide on their way to the lower floor, face streaked with anxious sweat while they carted an armful of documents below. Locating the village headman was simple – they simple traced the frantic assistant’s point of departure, swinging around a door or two further within until their path spilled out into a wider conference room, its core dominated by an impressively dense table beset by stacks of map and fading parchment blueprints. The team of administrative personnel glanced up as their boots ran afoul of the creaking curved floorboards, and their leader – a lanky fellow swimming in a thick wool coat, his swarthy skin seeming unhealthily pale – stepped away from the command center to speak with them.

“If your business is not urgent, my good ladies, then I have little time to spare for conversation,” He spoke bluntly, wetting his lips with a darting tongue. “I fear Engleton has little time left to prepare itself for an all-out assault by our less than gregarious neighbors, and I must see to our final preparations.”

“Your man at the gate implied as much.” Maintaining a neutral expression, Amity moved past the town mayor to glance at the collection of documents, her eyes flickering over their contents appraisingly. “He also said you might have room and board for a pair of mages willing to lend a hand with your bandit problems.”

“Ah – mages, you say?” Clammy fingers tugged at his tunic’s strangling collar, allowing the village official enough room to wheeze out a weak laugh. “Well, the support of your abilities would be most welcome. We’ve a few battlemages on hand, but most are mere novices with hardly a healing spell under their belts.” He gave them both a weak grin. “If we can manage a defense of the town, and anything remains standing after the battle, I would be glad to offer our good saviors something so basic without charge.”

Luz gave the sweating man a nod, stepping around him to stand beside her traveling companion and eyeball the tattered maps his other aides were still in the midst of sorting and unraveling.

“We’re not the type to leave a bunch of folks up the creek without a paddle if we can help it.” Tapping a finger against the tabletop, the mage glanced back at Engleton’s nominal leader. “Any ideas on what we’re up against? What about backup, maybe any strategies you guys cooked up for this?”

Grimacing, the mayor turned towards the overburdened stand, flattening one of the sheets with his palms as a harsh sigh escaped him.

“Our first warning came several days ago, when our ranging group of lumberjacks came back down half their number and looking scared out of their wits. They claimed that deeper within the forest, a mile or so north of town -” His pale digit stabbed down at the crude map, indicating a patch of simplistic trees sketched out in charcoal. “A party of undead raiders ambushed them, slaughtered their fellows, and dragged the lot off for… repurposing.” One of the man’s hands left the table to tug at his fallow brown locks with a spike of anxious movement. “The only reason the wretches would do so is if a lich were leading their band – and none of those raggedy revenants has ever been spotted with anything less than a truly monstrous horde at their heels.”

Eyes closing in pained recollection, Engleton’s mayor let his nervous fingers fall away from his scalp.

“It would explain why so little traffic has come through Raifen Wood as of late… and why the runner we dispatched two nights ago has yet to return. I fear the worst for all the souls who lay beyond the forest’s furthest edge.”

Biting her lip at the unnerving report, Luz glanced to Amity, watching her expression dance between concern and a steely determination. Abandoning these people to their fate would be tantamount to taking up arms against the villagers themselves, but she’d be the first to admit that their odds did not fill her with confidence. Still… the thought of turning tail brought back the hovering memories that Jace Beleren’s careless words had unearthed, flashes of terror and flight as another encampment burned around her flitting across her mind’s eye.

The pale witch straightened, spine ramrod straight, as she assumed the tone of voice the human girl had come to associate giving a problem the consideration it warranted – and Luz knew her friend had arrived at the same conclusion.

“If that’s the case, then we’re burning daylight.” One gloved palm smacked into its open partner. “Fill us in on everything you’ve got – armaments, soldiers, plans of attack. We’ll go where we’re needed most.”

As the sun crawled towards the horizon’s lip, the mayor informed them of everything and anything he could think of – and slowly, a plan percolated beneath their hurried discussion.

“Lookout below – wide load coming through!”

In spite of the general urgency pervading the town’s high-strung atmosphere, the militia members Luz passed still found time to rubberneck as she passed by, her passing heralded by the clatter of rocks on cobblestones and the trembling of wooden foundations.

Such a reaction was to be expected, honestly, considering the trusty steed transporting the human mage to the coming battle’s frontlines. Big Green rumbled and chirped as it bore the pair of them towards another gaping hole in Engleton’s defensive fortifications, the whistling cries of jungle fowl that made up its voice flowing musically through the evening air. Following her and Amity’s hasty discussion with the mayor regarding how they might aid in the town’s defense – assisted by the input from one of his aides, a grizzled whitebeard sporting a wild scar that had taken an eye in years past – the planeswalker duo split off to bolster the rough bulwark where they could.

Amity had peeled off in the direction of their original approach, a swelling legion of summoned abominations gathering lumber and tools as they made to hunt down the glaring weaknesses in the gate ringing the heart of the settlement. Luz, meanwhile, set about performing a similar mission with her own personal twist on the method, taking a moment to raise her elemental companion’s soulform from a standing pile of rubble and weeds beside the old tavern they’d arrived at. Sporting a jutting foothold of rock for her to light upon, the mage rode her old friend to the outer defensive layer, fingers threaded in a loose scrap of fibers dangling from its shoulders, catching the eye of every passerby on approach.

At each breakage in the established wall, they would come to a stop, and Luz would tug some of the hearty saplings springing from the craggy elemental’s spine and plant them between each towering trunk composing the spiked wall’s border. She and Big Green took turns pouring frothing green magic into the transplanted sprouts, carefully sculpting each of the nascent hardwoods into a tremendous, spiky growth that hungrily tangled its branches and roots amongst the upright carcasses of its repurposed kin. The coverage wasn’t perfect – it was a significant challenge to force years of growth in the span of minutes, not to mention the force of will and concentration necessary to direct its expansion into a useful set of dimensions. Most of their contributions left narrow slits between the segments of wall and new trees, barred only by jagged branches and sprouts, but Luz deemed such a thing acceptable considering the circ*mstances.

One small mercy, which had helped sculpt their plan of action for the tumultuous night, was the lack of threat from sources of flame. According to the mayor and his veteran entourage, raiding parties of undead tended to shy away from its scalding touch on account of how vulnerable their massed hordes of ambling, groaning tinder were to burning. Unfortunately, in the name of defending the hovel, they would be unable to respond with such a powerful tool due to the shared weaknesses of their massed construction.

If even a single flaming ghoul ran afoul of a shack composed of dry pine as they advanced…

And so instead of lighting every torch and arrowhead they could get their hands on, Luz travelled the corners of the encampment with her lumbering fellow by her side, commanding hearty oaks into being and having the hulking Zendikari spirit haul boulders from the nearby fields into place where the plants wouldn’t take in the loose, plainland soil. It was exhausting work, a concern that nagged the back of her mind as they set about their task, but it was an imperative one. Without the assistance of the newcomer mages, the second phase of Engleton’s plan would fall to pieces in the face of their faltering defense.

They retreated as the local star’s face was eclipsed by the ends of the earth, having secured their assigned section as best as their meager time would allow. At such an hour, no citizens wandered the streets nor guards flitted to and fro – every person in the town was either sheltering or at one of their predetermined hardpoints, scattered around the exterior gates of the border wall. It had been Amity’s suggestion, following their ‘war council’ in the heart of Engleton, one that the more experienced soldier types had supported once it was voiced. In place of allowing the undead to scourge to batter down their vulnerable walls and have free reign of the trapped people hidden in their houses, the local militia would throw open the gates and attract the bloodthirsty attackers with vigorous attention… and straight into the reinforced killzones they’d established within the walls.

Due to nonexistent visibility on the plains, and the fear of wielding fire in the rain-starved grasses all about the port village, the few archers and volunteer townsfolk that could be gathered would instead take to the roofs surrounding each gate, and form the tip of the proverbial spear to bottleneck the assault. With just enough of an enticing target at each entryway, protected by hasty barricades and barrels of wastewater, the militia commander hoped they would be able to chew through a solid quantity of hungering revenants before they decided to break away from the more obvious clusters of the living to attempt a more subtle breach.

And if they did decide to peel off before anticipated, that was what the girls’ horde of abominations – backed up by the towering form of Big Green’s broad form – would be on the lookout for.

Luz slid from her stony perch upon the elemental’s back as she approached the south gate, landing on the soles of her boots beside Amity where the pale witch had taken up position at the center of the rear barricade. Her composed companion gifted her with a small, reassuring smile, offering the canteen at her hip as the human mage sidled against the pile of hammered-together wood. She took it with a low murmur of thanks, concealing her undercurrent of anxiety by taking a drawn-out sip of cool water, enjoying the feel of it down the back of her tightened throat.

They didn’t really say much, seated beside a cluster of nervous guards as the men and women about them fiddled with weapons or adjusted their armor. Luz took the companiable silence as an opportunity to sort her thoughts, to focus on the spurt of heroism that had driven her bold declaration of assistance earlier that night and not how a traitorous little voice in the back of her brain was telling her how much of a bad idea sticking around had been.

In all fairness, taking off past the village as soon as they were warned would likely have been just as dangerous, considering they might have run headfirst into the oncoming army as the pair traveled. Still… it was a lot easier to spout confident promises when you weren’t staring down the metaphorical barrel of a charging gun. The wait was truly grating on the nerves, leaving her tapping feet and fingers against any flat surface as the pervasive silence of night failed to bring about any sign of attackers.

It would almost be less stressful if a horde of skeletons had just appeared on top of the gate without warning, rather than stand around and wait for them to rear their ugly heads!

She wondered, briefly, if this was what it felt like to be a soldier in an actual army, fighting wars far from home – and decided that she hoped to never have a firsthand answer to such a question.

From the opposite end of the wall, a reedy cry flew up from the battered trumpet in a watchman’s hands: the enemy approached. Pulse picking up with her gasp, Luz stood ready before the barred gate, her shuffling mirrored by those standing around her as they tensely awaited their attackers from beyond the hills.

Long minutes passed without anything to shatter the anxious stillness, only the sounds of breathing and rattling chainmail interrupting the night – until, finally, the mage and her compatriots could make out the low tones of the swarming undead over the fortifications. It was an audible morass of whispery groaning and the clatter of poorly maintained weaponry, pierced every so often by echoing roars and ululating shrieks. Once they were in earshot, it took their foes little time to reach the barricaded walls, and the handful of archers by the gate set to their work with little fanfare.

In the darkening shawl of night, Luz knew few of their rangers would have resounding success in blunting the ghouls’ vanguard, but every so often a moan or scream would cut short as their shots took their toll. In totality, the defense did little more than draw the zombies’ attention to their targets as intended, and the roped-together mass of the great doors shuddered violently as bolts of rot and relentless fists crashed against their flimsy protection. Their battle plan relied heavily upon the thin veil of misdirection that the groaning revenants might be susceptible to, and so it was not overlong that the unprotected gate began to splinter beneath ax heads, shaken to pieces as groaning corpses leered through breeches at their prospective meals. The bowmen above abandoned their high ground to take up position on the adjacent roofs amongst their fellows, huddled against tiles as meager cover while the horde finally, with a thunderous crash, ripped flagging wood from its mount.

“Hold, men!” The thick-necked lieutenant directing their portion of the defense roared over the din of the falling gate, veins taut in his throat. “Let the buggers line themselves up for our boys up top!”

It burned against all of Luz’s instincts to let the seething horde take even as much as the doorway without laying into them, but it was imperative that the defense cleave closely to their tactics. And so the rotten thralls spilled inwards, boiling down the cobble street implacably as they bore down upon the white-faced militiafolk, ten feet, then twenty, a handful more –

“Fire!”

With their lanterns and torches lining the walkway, it was much easier for the archers to reap their toll amongst the undead. A scattershot wave of arrows toppled the initial charge of ghouls, bearing the cadavers to the dirt and tripping their shambling fellows as the single-minded undead sought to clamber over their fallen. In the moments between barrages of arrows, Luz herself struck, and a twist of her wrist saw writhing tendrils of vines sprout between displaced cobblestones, snaring ankles and bursting upwards into thorny thickets that helped to throttle their advance. Zombies tumbled into one another as bloodthirsty stranglers tore into them, jungle creepers tearing sagging limbs from bodies in their wake.

Air whooshed over the mage’s head as Big Green lobbed a pumpkin-sized boulder down the lane, the stony projectile splattering a dozen ghouls before it burst into splinters somewhere beyond the gate. A bulging barrel followed shortly after, dousing the horde in chilled water that froze beneath Luz’s gaze as she reached out, entwining her perception of the trickling liquid with streamers of frosty azure mana. The clattering marauders halted as frozen crystal burst through their vulnerable forms, gluing them to the floor and shredding rotten musculature. For the handful of carcasses beyond the reach of her ice magic, Luz pumped a spiraling bolt of lightning into the crowd, its energy scorching the doused invaders in its wake and blasting several apart.

Spiting all their efforts, however, the horde pressed closer, trampling the few dozen casualties as bony claws lunged out at the first line of entrenched pikemen, swordbearers and armored abominations. A swelling sense of alarm filled the planeswalker’s breast as the dozens of attackers grew to what might have been hundreds, jostling amongst one another as they crawled into the narrow corridor of the battered gates even as their forerunners made contact with Engleton’s ground-bound defenders. Farmers and soldiers alike stabbed back at the enemy as they advanced, rotting raiders dueling the living amongst barricades and sharpened stakes as the archers desperately tried to lessen their ranks.

Amity and Luz joined the fray in full, darting in to fill the gaps left by their buckling lines as the undead threatened to break the spine of their fortifications. She did her best not to focus on the grim sight of the putrescent creatures before her, or how the screams of those fighting and dying around her soured the cool evening air. All that mattered was the swing of her staff as she cracked one brittle skull, then another, knocking the zombie’s head from its shoulders with a backhand swipe. Bands of frost spewed from an outstretched palm, beads of sweat arcing from her knuckles and expanding into a blast of jagged icicles that tore apart another pair of undead.

Her friends fought beside her, striking down the marauders with impunity. The pale witch’s sword reaped a deadly toll, darting in and out like a striking snake as sizzling black and white magic writhed over its steel. Amity was a whirlwind, plugging the faltering militia line, inky bands of living midnight lashing out from the low cloud surrounding her ankles to disintegrate rotten flesh with every touch. A bola of energy left her hands and tangled another trio of opponents – leaving them easy pickings for Big Green, as its hulking fist of jagged shale crushed them into paste. The elemental shrugged off wound after wound that would have killed a lesser being of flesh and bone, allowing swords to rake across its bulk as it interposed itself between a downed guard and her would-be killer. Each swing of its rocky limbs pushed back the tide with raw strength or the lashing of vines –

Suddenly, a ghastly shriek rang over the sounds of battle, and her summoned comrade was forced to juke aside with a surprisingly nimble motion to avoid the blast of concentrated sound that soared by, ripping apart rooftiles in its wake. A writhing form of rags and claws winged its way over the horde of undead men and beasts, the cold white eyes of the growling banshee locked onto the Zendikari native. The air rippled, seemingly alive, as its horrid voice split the night with each attack. Out of the corner of her eye, Luz saw the archers reel, blood pouring from the ears of those closest as they flinched backwards into cover.

Big Green, however, charged boldly forward, slamming through the frontline of attackers to reach its nemesis. The banshee attempted to twitch out of the way even as it lobbed more attacks at the unburdened elemental, but the mage had caught onto its movements, and a spidery lash of lightning stunned the horror long enough for her friend to grab it in one tremendous paw, crushing the shocked creature with a moment’s thought and lunging towards safety before the tidal wave of zombies could clamber up its craggy spine.

Lengthy seconds spun out into eternal minutes as Luz bobbed and weaved between charging zombies, a constant influx of magic thrumming through her soul. Their trio was the heart of the storm, a hardpoint that the undead broke against in splintered waves as white mana funneled into their vulnerable forms at her direction, coalescing into being as ephemeral, flickering shields and bolts of frantic energy to bolster flagging muscles. From one moment to the next, she swapped between blasting out spiked ice and the heat-friction of captured storms, only to renew her enchantments in turn as the horde continued unabated. When the swell of corpses grew despite their counterassault, she allowed her sharpened perception to swipe out, pressing against the buzzing lodestones of mana adorning her fingers and satchel to draw upon further wells of power.

For all their efforts, the tide of battle was slowly swiveling out of the defenders’ grasp. It came in fiercer clumps of hissing marauders, the split-second faltering of footwork and swordplay that saw another brave guardsmen or stalwart golem swallowed by the inexorable tide encroaching upon the beleaguered homestead. She could see the fear growing in her allies with every meter given to the enemy, each last-ditch blast of magic and shattered barrel failing to confine their enemies in the way they needed to survive the onslaught.

Luz fought valiantly against her own unfolding panic, lancing forward with her staff of thorns and steely wood to batter another groaning body to pieces – only for her heart to fall into her gut as a rattling roar belted out from the rear lines, and not one, but three tremendous undead ogres tore down the flagging framework of the wall, opening the floodgates even further as they crushed their meager minions underfoot in their haste to reach the living.

It was funny – staring death in the face as she was, so similar and yet far beyond her last horrible night on Zendikar, all Luz could think to herself was, Mami would kill me if I died on some silly quest right now.

The desperate mage reached further than ever before, plumbing the depths of her magical reserves to their limits as the slavering beasts drew closer, feeling the sweat bead her forehead as static electricity arced over her petrified form –

From beyond the wall, rolling over the cacophony of a hundred snarling zombies, came the long call of a victorious trumpet, clear as a bell and just as regal in tone.

The ragged defenders fell back as the assault ground to a halt, the raiders’ rear line collapsing and spinning about to combat the approach of some unseen threat from beyond their writhing flanks. Two of the heaving giants turned heel as well, giving guttural growls of challenge – only for one to stagger and collapse as a brilliant spear of eye-searing magic struck it dead, flying straight and true from somewhere past the battered walls. Every few seconds, she could just barely spot the silhouette of unstained white whirling about, tearing through the crowd astride mighty steeds.

With their foes failing to meaningfully engage on two fronts, Amity gave a rallying cry and a raised blade alongside her abominations, their raucous call being taken up by Luz and the exhausted militiamen as they surged unto the breach, cutting into staggered and reeling lines of zombies with renewed vigor. The collected energy of a bristling thunderhead she’d gathered moments before burst from the human mage’s palms, incinerating the last ogre’s rotten torso and casting it, boneless, to the churned muck far below. The sight practically worked their compatriots into a frenzy, and it was short work that saw a dozen undead speared, then two, before swiftly transforming into a full-blown rout as their unseen allies annihilated the marauder rear guard.

Staggering forward as her final opponent fell, green magic fizzing from her staff as it unwound the necromantic sorceries from the disintegrating cadaver, Luz beheld what an upturned cemetery might look like, assuming a titanic hand had descended and flipped the whole lot on its head. A veritable carpet of felled undead blanketed the rough roadways, the occasional curl of wandering smoke drifting upwards from where her lightning had burned cleanly amongst dry flesh. The entire gate and its mounting had been ripped asunder by the conclusion of the skirmish, and the newly created ends of the defensive structure leaned limply apart as twisted logs threatened to topple over. A house or two had been partially knocked over by the larger zombie beasts, coupled with the banshee’s wails and the ogre charge. Tragically, she could just make out the sight of some of their slain comrades, dotting the remnants of the invaders where they’d made the ultimate sacrifice in service to their community.

In spite of it all, though, Engleton’s southern border remained standing – and the fading sounds of battle from the opposite gates implied much the same for the other squadrons of guards and scouts, likely aided by their own contingent of last-minute saviors.

They’d survived the raider’s assault, and broken their siege over one knee, unsteady as it might have been.

“I kinda feel like all we do is take naps ever since we left the Isles, but I…” Luz presented one lightly shaking digit for emphasis. “Could personally fall into a coma for the next few months and probably still be tired.”

Amity groaned as they slumped against the side of Big Green, doing their level best to ignore the gore staining both themselves and the resting elemental.

“Agreed.” The slumped coven commander cracked her tense jaw with one bloody hand, groaning at the click of her own spine. “Remind me to ignore any further heroic impulses next time we stumble across a bunch of poor saps. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.”

Luz gave a weak laugh at the joke, and blithely ignored the uncomfortable ache in her belly as she recalled her brief bit of cowardly thoughts in the fight’s darkest hour.

Assisting the people of the town was not a mistake, even if doing so might’ve held deadly consequences had they failed. But that didn’t mean she was very eager to participate in any more dramatic last stands for a good, long while.

“…You wanna save the victory party and chit-chat for tomorrow?” Luz tried to keep the desperate plea out of her voice, and mostly failed.

“Definitely - let’s let the rest of this dingy town know we saved them this time, and find somewhere we can pass out.” Amity stretched like a sinuous feline, cracking knuckles through her worn work gloves. “Our mysterious saviors can be a problem for the next day.”

Getting back onto her feet through sheer force of will, Luz took to salving the wounds amongst their party as best she could, feeling her connection to lands afar fuzz and strain in tune with her slipping concentration. Thankfully, the iridescent scaled jerkins they toted had turned aside many of the blades aimed for their bodies, though a few knicks and slices had snuck through and stabbed across her more exposed limbs. Amity joined her after a moment’s respite, and the two young mages healed the cuts and bites they could with their diminished reserves as a squadron of mounted riders swung away from the gate, a portion of their number taking off after unseen stragglers across the hills. Some of the militia members were too deeply harmed for their junior understanding of magical aid to solve; in those cases, the girls did their best to get those men and women up and moving, limping alongside the drooping guards as the less able-bodied retreated towards the center of the hamlet. Big Green remained behind, a stalwart fixture coated in dried blood and shredded vines standing vigil over the victorious few that stayed to man the destroyed gate.

The mayor met them on their approach, his expression quivering with a glimmer of hope at the sight of the exhausted fighters, and Luz flashed him a tired thumbs-up on the way towards the stumpy barracks beyond. Brightening with the gesture, the village administrator turned to his hangers-on, barking energetic orders to bring forth the few doctors and healers on hand to treat their wounded. She was more than happy to hand off the heavy soldier leaning on her shoulder to someone more qualified than her in regards to supernatural aid, and at the grateful headman’s allowance, the weary planeswalkers crawled their way to the deserted tavern and up into one of the available rooms.

Shucking off her battered armor and torn cloak, making a mental note to stitch their damaged sections back together with a bit of spellwork when she was less ready to drop, Luz faceplanted her chosen mattress and promptly departed for dreams of happier times. Amity followed shortly behind.

Formless dreams dogged her heels, shaped like boney jaws and wailing wraiths that quavered as she lunged towards their indistinct shapes. Their bark was much worse than any bite, in the foggy sea that was her subconscious.

Seemingly seconds after feeling the lumpy pillow cradle her skull, Luz was being dragged back into wakefulness by the brilliant beams of sunlight sprawling through a crack in the curtains, a fact that had her rumbling low in her throat at the displeasing sight. The clash and clatter of the bustling township could just barely be made out through the frosted glass panes, though the ambient hum was more comforting than anything else. It was reminder of the good they’d managed, despite the horror of Engleton’s situation – without Luz and Amity’s intervention, it was possible that the gates would have fallen much sooner, or that the attackers would have had more points of insertion to ravage the undefended homes within. It was entirely likely, even, that the last-minute addition to their arrayed forces would have arrived only to find the village razed before they could even bear arms against the ravenous undead.

Speaking of which… it was, unfortunately, a good idea to go and greet their saviors. If only to thank them for the timely assistance.

Amity was not far behind in waking for the new day, jolting up and setting about rearming herself with militaristic precision, in spite of the sagging bags that pulled at her eyelids. Luz could sympathize – the aches of the prior day had not completely faded, especially considering how hard they’d both pushed themselves to draw upon ever increasing quantities of magical power. The freshly scabbed and scarred slices along her arms briefly tingled as fresh underclothes and ragged armor rasped over them, matched by the dull throb of a healing cut along her calf that protested the presence of her shin-high socks. Hopefully, her mami would have the wherewithal to not question why it looked like something had tried to claw her left leg apart – informing Camila Noceda that zombies were real might be enough to send her into a fit, honestly.

It was pretty disturbing by her standards, too, and the mage was much more well-versed in the struggles of the living against the undead.

Descending the stairs into the cantina proper, satchel slung over one shoulder alongside her staff, Luz was the first to break into the fresh sunlight of the new dawn at the head of the duo. Blinking beneath the brilliant rays, rubbing sleep from her eyes, the impact of last night’s battle was not readily apparent in the center of the town square. Any damages had mostly occurred around the border wall of the villa, leaving its fragile heart unmarred in spite of the raiders’ best efforts. Yet, as they strode towards the exterior defenses, Luz handing off some of her packed granola and nuts to a grateful witch at her side, the evidence of their success became plainer to see.

Whereas fear had ruled the dusky remnants of the fading day when they’d arrived, now Engleton buzzed with hopeful grins and low gossip, people flitting to and fro from homes and businesses even as fresh supplies streamed towards the gates at their flanks. Luz and Amity had to duck out of the way of a large tarp-covered wagon, laden with fresh lumber and mortar, as it rattled towards the ruined battlements down rocky cobble pathways. Most of the citizenry didn’t seem familiar with their presence, having sequestered themselves away before the girls’ arrival in the face of an oncoming assault, but every so often a townsperson would recognize their distinct appearances and call out a hearty greeting that they returned in kind. The undercurrent of humming conversation tilted towards their appearance as they closed with the destroyed gates, relieved stares and calls following in their wake.

It was beyond the border of town that they caught sight of the layered encampment that their true saviors had pitched, a modest sea of gleaming white tents arrayed just past the flagging wooden posts that had valiantly withstood the zombie attack only hours before. Stallions and griffons alike snorted and trampled the edges of the field, picketed in by stakes driven into thin soil, bracketing the ordered array of temporary housing that conferred a measure of privacy to their erstwhile riders. Campfires belched hearty tendrils of smoke into the heavens, the tents shot through by bands of soot and the occasional call of an armored figure just past the edge of sight while the camp’s inhabitants milled about. A slim note of metal on moistened rock could be made out beneath the hustle and bustle of warriors preparing for their next battle, whetstones ringing off shining lances and longswords as Luz stepped within the confines of the settlement.

None of the assorted humans or lanky, feathered avens sporting mail and plate made to stop the pair, only glancing curiously after them as the two planeswalkers stepped carefully between the eaves of expanded tents. It was not until they stopped before the largest cloth enclosure that someone barred their way, a metal-coated fist put before them as a hulking knight took a step between the two newcomers and the entrance to what was presumably their leader’s chambers. She could feel the roaming eyes of interested onlookers just over her shoulder as they trundled to a stop, giving the roughly-hewn man an opportunity to speak.

“Halt, civilians.” His voice seemed to carry the weight and grit of freshly crushed gravel, and just beneath the curve of his cuirass, Luz could make out a ropey scar silhouetted against pale flesh. “The Knight-Errant is not available to speak at the moment. She is quite busy with preparing the remainder of our journey. State your business.”

“Ah - sorry about that.” Glancing at Amity out of the corner of her eye, her spine straightened, a polite but firm tone overtaking her words. “We just wanted to thank you folks for your help last night, maybe ask a few questions about the area. We’re pretty new to town, and stopping to assist was a pretty last-minute thing for us, so…”

At the recognition of their contribution, the guard softened slightly, gracing Luz with a nod before directing his eyes towards the gentle flutter of the tent’s flap.

“I see. Allow me a moment to speak with the commander – she may wish to have a word with you, before any plans you might have to depart from here.”

Stepping into the shade of the draped canvas, low voices filtered beneath the loosely held cloth at the soldier’s passing, mutterings at low volume that told her nothing of what was occurring within. After a few moments of heated debate, the knight returned, his expression remaining professionally neutral.

“It appears she was expecting your presence.” He tugged the thick tent flap aside, gesturing with a mailed fist towards the cool darkness within. “Please proceed.”

Striding through the offered gap, Luz swept her eyes over the cluttered folding table at the lean-to’s center, the overflowing bundles of maps and aging reports reminiscent of the scene at the village’s townhall the prior night. Where their preparations stank of rampant desperation, however, the chaos of a mobile army seemed tempered by an iron sense of discipline. Heading the wild assortment was a stalwart knight, her plate plainly scuffed and battered even in the dim interior light of her tent. The scratches adorning the armor did little to bow her, however, and her stormy eyes alit upon the newcomers without concern or hesitation.

“Hail, strangers. The Third Valeronian Outriders welcome you to our camp.” One unyielding gauntlet clapped against her bowed breastplate, steel clattering against steel with a sharp note. “It is my understanding that it was your contributions that aided Engleton in withstanding the onslaught before we could make contact with the enemy.” The sturdy commander inclined her head in acknowledgement. “I thank you for your assistance – few would have remained to stand with a doomed settlement against overwhelming odds, in this day and age.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it was no big deal, but… we were happy to help.” Luz presented one open palm, an offering her towering counterpart shook without delay. “Luz Noceda and Amity Blight, at your service. I’ve gotta say, you’ve got a great sense of dramatic timing.” She cracked a small, crooked smile that could not fully conceal the unease that lingered in the wake of their climactic defense only hours before. “We would’ve been up to our teeth in skeletons and other gribbly nasties if it weren’t for you and your people.”

“Indeed.” Dark amusem*nt flickered across the craggy woman’s features, before melting away before her solemn countenance. “I am Knight-Errant Alwen Rezad, minor Lady of the kingdom of Valeron.” A war-weary sigh escaped her pressed lips, and in an instant, the weight of the world seemed to deposit itself upon the noble’s shoulders from one breath to the next. “Speaking frankly, it was a near thing indeed. If my troops had been moving any slower, the town’s runner may have missed our approach when they passed. The nearest reinforcements for the region would have been days away, at best.”

A shiver ran down her spine at the realization of just how nearly poor fortune had skirted past their efforts. Shifting into place beside the human mage, Amity’s shrewd gaze roamed the spillage of documents between themselves and their host, before returning to the leader of men before them.

“It looks like you're ready for a full-blown war. Are there are any other fights we should be trying to avoid on the road out of town?”

Alwen Rezad shook her head, setting the compact braid of black hair at her nape swinging with the motion.

“Our vanguard struck down the few that attempted to retreat last evening. Barring any unforeseen complications, the primary body of the marauding forces of that band should be destroyed. No, we are on the move towards lands afar.” Slapping the pile of parchment before her, the commander’s free hand gestured lightly to the camp beyond. “The Third heeds the call to arms of the kingdom’s noble families. Their message was clear – all able-bodied warriors are to assemble at the Sun-Dappled Court, our land’s still-beating heart.”

Her line of sight blindly slid over the compiled reports weighing down the sturdy camping table, her mind on a goal countless miles away.

“In the wake of the destruction that has battered the entirety of Bant’s nations, following the horrors unleashed by the thrice-accursed Conflux -” The term struck Luz as vaguely familiar, something exchanged by word of mouth in passing amongst more storied planeswalkers. “Word has spread of legends and honored heroes, once again on the rise, gathering those that remain in an effort to secure ourselves against further invasions. That is the hope that we chase now, slim as it may be.”

Brows scrunching in consternation, Luz opened her mouth to question the embittered comment, only for her companion to beat her out by half a moment’s pause.

“You don’t seem very confident in finding what you’re looking for, considering how much you’re moving in manpower and supplies.” The pale witch gave the commanding knight a curious glance, daring the woman to refute her observation.

Lady Rezad’s features firmed with her guest’s words, her lips drawn tightly together as if something sour had slipped past them.

“If you had asked me before our world was beset by abominations and savages from beyond its borders, I would have gladly informed you of my deep and abiding faith in the grace of our kingdom’s guiding angels. Perhaps I’d even quote some of the legendary tales that have shaped my family’s scope of rightful rule as historical anecdotes to be reflected upon.” Digits encased in dulled metal threaded through her immaculate locks, clenching at her braid, as a gaze left sunken by bruised restlessness met Luz’s own eyes. “But I’ve witnessed too many horrors since those wretched realms befouled my homeland’s soils to believe so blindly in such things. It is a matter of practicality – our nation’s governance has been sundered; its ruling houses scattered. Without resupply and reinforcements, our brigade cannot operate indefinitely. And there are no others to protect our vulnerable coastlines and seaside villages.” The statement was delivered blandly, a bleak declaration of fact that failed to elicit even a wince from its bearer. “Either something changes, or we fight until we fade away. There is no other course to take.”

Grimacing at the defeated sentiment, Luz’s teeth snagged at her lip, biting back the instinctual offer of assistance that bubbled up from within her chest. These people faced an issue well beyond the scope of any help she and her friends could offer, though admitting such a thing stung her heart. They’d helped to save this town, against all odds, and now the saviors of the hour could only say that the war they fought was all but lost? That their only hope lay with faith in something they couldn’t even prove without witnessing it firsthand?

She knew well the power of even small gestures of aid; after all, Luz and Amity had only provided the finishing touches to Engleton’s defense in the face of an undead tide. They hadn’t constructed the walls of the defiant little village, nor stocked its gates with the brave men and women that had laid down their lives to stand as a bulwark against the darkness beyond. Perhaps, if there was a way for them to give back, maybe offer healing or magical tutoring for the members of Rezad’s Outriders – anything, really…

“We’re on a bit of a mission ourselves – a mutual friend of ours told us that we might be able to find someone in the know on some pretty major fights out this way.” Rifling through her pack as she spoke, Luz drew the hibernating drone from its resting place within the cavernous bag, allowing the thrum of living mana to seep into its receptive etchings. “Which way did you say you were headed for this big meet-up?”

Eyeing the brittle sphere of sloped silver in the mage’s grip, the commander responded with an edge of caution, “We aim for the heart of Valeron – the Court lies within the central expanse of the kingdom, just beyond the foothills that lay to our north. It is a journey of several days, yet, more so if any further delays occur along the way.”

Letting the shuddering orb float out of her upturned palm, the three women tracked its slow advance as it wobbled skywards, before puttering towards the side of the tent – an approximation of northern travel guided by the tracking spellwork engraved upon its hide.

“Looks like our little buddy here says we should be heading the same way as you and your troops.” Reclaiming the delicate device once more, Luz gave the intrigued knight another glance. “Got any room for a pair of up-and-coming mages to follow along for a bit?”

“In fact, I believe we do,” The armored Lady responded slowly. “A portion of my men are to be stationed within the town to bolster their militia and provide additional training, though their mounts and supplies shall be coming with us. However, we cannot afford to slow our travels for two untested hangers-on. I don’t suppose either of you know how to ride a horse… or griffon.” Her words were spoken as more of a statement than a question, and if it weren’t for the fact that they were true, Luz might have rankled at the suggestion of her lacking such skills.

“Nope.” Popping the end of the single syllable response with her tongue, the mage gifted her counterpart with an eager grin. “No time like the present to start learning, right?”

For the first time since their conversation had begun, a ghost of an answering smile lifted Rezad’s lips at Luz’s unflagging enthusiasm.

“Indeed. If that is the case… then we’d best get you started before the men are prepared to move once more.”

The dedicated steel of a hardened general replaced her warm amusem*nt at the thought.

“Tomorrow, we ride at dawn.”

Chapter 28

Chapter Text

The remainder of the day before the Outriders’ departure was spent rearming and reconstructing, along with a crash course on how to successfully navigate mounted travel. To Luz’s slight dismay, riding a horse was not, in fact, a skill easily picked up on the go.

Their difficulties began with the integral first step of finding a mount that would accept two amateur young adventurers.

She couldn’t claim much knowledge of equines or their various breeds, only understanding by sight that what the milling camp of knights rode upon were certifiably warhorses. They certainly looked the part, bedecked in slatted plates of steel and strips of leather that left them as well defended as the men and women that rode them into the thick of battle. Countless pack beasts hoofed and snorted at the trampled patches of grass yet uneaten, their legion of retainers brushing manes and handing out bribes of food to the more unruly members of the tamed herd. The lanky animals remained intimidating to the uninitiated duo of riders as they searched the crowd for any available mounts.

Of course, there were more exotic options as well. Several of the armored column strode through the encampment on the backs of muscled griffons, the predatory fusion of bird and beast all the more frightening for their harsh gazes. Had Luz or Amity been feeling a bit more adventurous – or, perhaps, foolhardy – they might have opted to try soaring across the skies in place of hoofing it with the grunts.

What really caught the human mage’s eye, though, was Lady Rezad’s own impressive steed of choice.

She watched with no small quantity of envy as the party commander snaked through the hustle and bustle atop a truly monstrous lion – a leotau, as one knight was kind enough to inform them. The regal male was large enough to put a car of middling size to shame, and the dark-haired knight rode the impassive creature with the well-earned ease of lifelong partners. Several more of the Outriders’ pride could be spotted beyond the picket line of their temporary quarters, now that Luz was actively seeking them out, lounging about in the thin reeds of prairie grass as the occasional squire hauled fresh meat over to the sleepy felines.

Amity gave her a concerned glance when she let out a put-upon huff, dropping onto a nearby fencepost with a drooping frown as her eyes tracked the majestic lions just past the sea of tents.

“What’s the matter, Luz?” The pale witch tracked her companion’s line of sight before returning to the other girl’s aggravated expression with a single brow co*cked. “They seem to have plenty of big cats for you to ride – I bet if you asked the commander nicely enough…”

“It’s not that.” Belting out a dramatic groan, she titled backwards to a dangerous degree, the angular stretch of wood barely keeping a grip on the seat of her pants as she gazed at the sky. “I bet they would. It’s just… we’re looking for a bipedal lion man. What kind of message would it send if I marched up on a giant cat right in front of him? That’d be like saddling somebody’s cousin or something. I can’t afford to blow any goodwill out of the water before we even get to ask Ajani for favors.” She did allow one more sigh to escape. “No matter how cool it might be.”

“Well -” Luz knew Amity well enough by that point to determine the wobbly tone in the other ‘walker’s voice was most definitely from restrained laughter. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a very good job of being considerate.”

Letting out a low moan as if she’d been stabbed, the human mage slipped off the rickety post into a comfy bed of thick weeds, shielding her eyes from the glare of the merciless sun even as her friend gave a few guffaws at the dramatics on display.

“Being a responsible adult stinks.”

Of course, Amity was bound to encounter her own hiccup in an otherwise average procedure.

The first horse they offered her was broad in the shoulders and bright-eyed, her polished hooves stamping the springy turf flat with each pounding step. Even Luz could spot a well-cared for mount when presented with one, and the equine’s midnight black coat rippled under dappled sunlight.

She didn’t miss the tension that suddenly slithered through the witch’s posture, however; a perception that was only confirmed when her friend failed to take the offered reins from the helpful squire before them, her features caught in an odd rictus.

“This may sound… strange,” Amity began nervously. “But she doesn’t… breathe fire?”

Their young assistant blinked at the non-sequitur query, glancing at his snorting charge with a look of bafflement.

“Ah – no, m’lady, not insofar as I know.”

“Okay, that’s good. Great.” The deputy commander hesitated once more, a gloved hand coming up to anxiously cup her chin. “And she’s an herbivore, correct? No meat of… any kind?”

Luz was beginning to spot a pattern, here.

“Hey, pal, how about we try another one?” She suggested, sidling up beside the terminally confused knight-in-training so as to throw an arm about his shoulders. “It’d probably be easier to just find a less intimidating horse for Amity, instead.”

They watched the boy retreat with relief coloring his expression, taking the docile beast of burden with him as they trotted back towards the makeshift stables.

The human planeswalker deliberately kept her voice even and judgment-free as the dark horse’s flank disappeared around the side of a gathering of ragged tents, hands resting casually at her hips.

“Somehow, I don’t find it very surprising you guys have nightmares on the Boiling Isles. Honestly, it’s weirder that I didn’t see any when we went on our big, spooky swamp adventure.”

“You’re familiar?” The relief at Luz’s non-reaction plainly filtered through Amity’s words, but the human girl had enough tact not to call attention to it, only gracing her companion with a small grin instead.

“What, you mean do I know about the giant, carnivorous horses that swoop down out of the sky to eat innocent travelers and burn down anything too close to their cruddy bogs? Oh yeah.” She leaned backwards, cracking a kink out of her stiff spine as they loitered. “One tried to run me over that time I visited Innistrad. The Rakdos have a few of them for their circuses back on Ravnica, too. Blegh.” An involuntary shudder raced down her back at the memory.

“You don’t seem to be their biggest fan,” Amity observed with a curious look, her prior anxiety slowly melting away with their conversation.

“That’d be because they have two heads… that are flaming skulls.” She paused briefly, a grimace stealing over her lips. “And they like to eat goblins. Also, alley cats.”

“…Oh. Oh, wow. That is way worse.”

“I know, right?”

In spite of their various hang-ups regarding the numerous available mounts amongst the milling Outriders, they each eventually settled on a steed to their liking.

Luz found herself receiving the reins to a timid young mare by the name of Meadow – or, perhaps, ‘Mellow Meadow,’ as the grinning knight fondly referred to her – while the sun crested its midday height, baking the thick clay of the earth beneath boot and hoof. Her chosen steed was neither scrawny nor bristling with muscle; the shy horse was rather middling by all accounts, including her rather tepid attitude towards newcomers. The mage found herself smiling, however, as her newest companion gently lipped an offered carrot from her outstretched palm, one ear on the low chatter of directions and explanations from her camp guide as he walked the girl through caring for the beast in question.

Swinging one leg over the dappled grey mare’s back for the first time, feeling her weight settle into the creaking leather saddle with a sense of rightness, Luz’s inner child finally understood the appeal of horses and ponies to the young girls of her homeland. There really was something magical about feeling the powerful flex of equine muscle beneath her as they trotted about the encampment, putting the new partnership through its paces before the hardships of lengthy travel could occur.

Satisfied that Luz had a beginner’s grasp on her lessons, the soldier waved her off to go about whatever business she might find, and so she set about stabling Meadow wherever Amity was as the other girl sought her own horse. Once reunited, the pair of planeswalkers left their chosen mounts pitched beside the commander’s tent – Amity having selected a similarly sized horse of slate complexion, christened by his keepers as Storm – before wandering out of the bustling city of tents and lean-tos to seek sustenance and any work that ought to be finished up before departure.

As graciously promised by the mayor the day before, Luz and Amity found themselves resting beneath the rickety cloth awning of Engleton’s central tavern, sandwiches and cheap drinks in hand, free of any further charge. The human mage took a moment to contemplate whether or not she truly wanted the sloshing mug of beer offered to her, before accepting that it would be quite rude to turn away free food, and vowing to simply not mention it in the presence of her mami anytime soon. Their brief break from sweating away under the unyielding blaze that assaulted Valeron’s coasts gave the pair plenty of time to spot a number of ongoing construction projects in the wake of the village’s desperate defense, and once they’d returned the wooden cutlery and plates to the tavern owner, they each set off to assist with the much-needed repairs of Engleton proper.

It was little surprise that the combined brawn of Big Green and Amity’s legion of freshly summoned abominations were just as useful in peacetime projects as they were building fortifications for the hamlet. By the time dusk had begun its descent unto the plains and beaches once more, they’d managed to meaningfully contribute towards the construction of new gateways and housing alike. Most of their work was brute labor, unskilled and direct, but it aided the beleaguered builders nonetheless as raw materials were hauled into place as required. She only barely remembered to slip Big Green free of its summoning, allowing the elemental to return from whence it came as the day concluded.

Aching and sore from two days of intensive physical efforts, the duo fell into bed that night with nary a worry for the trip ahead of them, dreaming only of the starry skies above as the world’s brilliant lunar body soared overhead in a glowing crescent.

No further attacks gnawed at the battered borders of Engleton, much to everyone’s relief.

As the light of dawn splintered the calm of night, the Third Valeronian Outriders took off across the plains.

It was not a full-tilt sprint, nor the plodding and inexorable march of a swarming army, but the timely departure of a scouting brigade. Their few wagons rattled and creaked over patchy brickwork roads intermingled with bare soil, dragged along at a hastened pace by horses twice as tall as Luz. Griffon vanguards took to the clear skies, circling the caravan like carrion birds as their keen-eyed riders kept watch for any signs of incoming dangers. In the midst of the wedge of mounts and knights sat their party’s soft underbelly, the unarmored and inexperienced horses and squires hemmed in by veteran members of the troop – and that was where she sat astride her galloping horse, Amity at her side.

Keeping Meadow moving at a brisk trot was more than enough to occupy her mind on the winding roads that passed beneath them, the clenching unfamiliarity of one’s first foray into a freshly learned skill keeping Luz taut with vigilance to avoid any costly mistakes. Not that she needed worry, overmuch – as the horse’s former caretaker had remarked offhandedly the day before, her steed remained unperturbed by her rider’s nerves, following the billowing cloud of ankle-high dust tread by their companions with ease. Amity, on the other hand, seemed much more at ease with her first foray into mounted travel. Or perhaps that was simply how she always was – a steadfast, almost bored tilt to her gaze and her lips, a picture-perfect representation of unimpressed boredom on the move.

Or, she would be, if Luz hadn’t caught her glancing about with muffled curiosity, taking in the dips and swells of the coast at their shoulder, or the sprawl of forest opposite the cresting waves.

It was… distracting, watching the conflicting expression play across the witch’s face. Whenever she caught herself staring overlong at Amity’s sculpted features, or the way her golden eyes darted over the hills and plains to catalogue every detail with a critical eye, she had to force her own sight elsewhere.

Luz was not a kid, anymore. They were on a mission, one important to both of them, and the mage had little intention to make a fool of herself over… what she might, hesitantly, admit to herself was the beginnings of a crush. Or perhaps a bit further into the process than just the start, but – it didn’t matter.

Regardless of her own conflicted feelings, simply spotting the stark contrast in Amity’s ongoing thoughts and her own exterior presentation was enough to have her brow furrowed in consideration. The coven deputy seemed bound and determined to provide the world with an aloof countenance, unshaken and indomitable, even amongst nominal friends or allies. Frankly, it struck her not that such an affectation was obviously false to anyone that might know Amity Blight well enough, but that such an attitude was shared by one Lilith Clawthorne. From their few interactions, the elder Clawthorne sister acted much the same way, only allowing some of the starched snootiness to fall away under duress.

Had Amity picked up her questionable habits from her mentor, after years under her tutelage? Or could the blame come to rest at the feet of her blood-mother, Odalia, who by all accounts seemed to Luz as a borderline abusive parental figure?

She was no psychologist – but the signs were present, even to a layman such as herself. The mere fact that Amity’s mother had been so unkind as to imply that her siblings had no time for someone of ‘wasted potential’ was enough to set off alarm bells – to divide her children, to sow strife between an apparently discordant relationship… the mere idea of it was plenty enough reason for Luz to grit her teeth sharply.

Say what she would about her and her own mother’s less-than-stellar interactions leading up to her first planeswalk, but at least Luz’s mami wasn’t a walking, talking case for child protective services.

Such ruminations haunted her as the mounted brigade rumbled onwards, dust and ash swirling at their heels all the way. Her friend must have caught something in the human ‘walker’s eyes as she contemplated their complicated lives, and the first leg of the journey was spent in companionable silence.

Only the clatter of hooves and scrape of folded leather against her trousers dared to interrupt the day’s growing heat.

The better portion of a week had passed before any signs of something to shatter the monotony came into view.

Luz had assumed that horse riding would be another exciting adventure to dive headfirst into, a broad new field to practice mastery of with the watchful eyes of mentor figures all about – and while she learned plenty on the winding path that hugged Valeron’s windswept coast, none of it was about the red-hot pound of adrenaline from mounted combat, or death-defying displays of horsemanship her old fantasy novels waxed poetically about.

Instead, the young woman mostly found herself discovering how dirty somebody could get when they sat in the contrail of a shifting dust cloud for the majority of four days, give or take, when they weren’t breaking for a brief spell of light camping during the starry evening hours.

“Welp, I can confirm that any plans to retire on a cute little farm have been kiboshed by now,” The sweating mage grumbled, doing her best not to wrench the brush too firmly through Meadow’s twisted mane as the horse clattered faithfully onwards. “Don’t get me wrong, I love farm animals, but if I ever see another horse turd after this trip, I’m probably gonna scream.”

“Oh, really?” She may have made an attempt at toning it down, but Amity couldn’t fully conceal the slight smugness that edged her voice as she directed a sly smirk towards her human companion. “I’ve found this whole thing pretty relaxing. You’d be surprised how similar horse care is to building new abominations in the lab.”

Luz shot her an unimpressed glance.

“Listen, working hard isn’t the problem. Taking care of beautiful horses isn’t the problem!” Her hands swung up in exasperation. “But pile daily poo duty on top of sleeping next to a bunch of sweaty guys that snore every night, and it gets to be a tiny but much!”

“You should spend some time in the scout barracks when we get back to the Isles,” Amity remarked, her grin unfurling into a fully-fledged challenge. “It might help with some perspective next time we go on a road trip with a bunch of soldiers.”

Alright, burgeoning attraction to her friend or no, Luz was inching dangerously close to tackling the other girl off her horse with that snarky little bit of –

The shrill trill of a squawking trumpet cut through her mutinous thoughts, pulling both of their heads towards the front of the pack as the caravan shuddered to a stop, horses and armored warriors milling about anxiously while they awaited any news from the head of the proverbial spear. They craned their necks in a futile effort spot whatever commotion was afoot over the tops of angular wagons and puttering horsem*n, but their position at the heart of the convoy’s formation made such a thing all but impossible.

Finally, after several tense minutes, the sea of people began to siphon away, sergeants and ranking knights barking orders to their various squadrons as they directed the mounted crews off the beaten path, whipping their mounts into a charging frenzy as they did so. Sharing a concerned glance with her friend, the duo pushed through the thinning crowd towards the head of the snaking caravan, hoping to find whatever the grim-faced soldiers had brought their trip to a stop for.

They just barely managed to snag Rezad’s attention as she hoisted herself up onto the massive spine of her idling lion, waving the harried woman down as her retinue swarmed away at her gesture. Disconcertingly, Luz could just make out the wispy tails of floating smoke billowing towards the upper atmosphere, nestled somewhere within the thickening brush of the nearby forest. Sidling up before the commander, she opened her mouth to ask the question burning at her lips, only to be cut off by the noble’s raised palm.

“I understand that you both are more than capable in an emergency,” She began firmly. “But I am not one to throw civilians into the proverbial…” Lady Alwen tilted her head back to eye the flaming contrails with disquiet. “Or literal fire, regardless of their abilities. My knights are quite ready to handle whatever might await them in the woods beyond at this moment.”

“…Alright, well, I was mostly going to ask what was going on.” Luz let her words slink out slowly, biting back the instinctive offense at being kept from providing what aid she could. “But the second question was definitely where you wanted us. Guess that answers that, then.”

The knight-errant looked them over, taking in the silent and expanding frown gracing Amity’s mouth as the pause grew lengthy.

“If anything, you’d be of much greater help remaining at the ready to receive any wounded that return.” Her gaze did not soften, but some of the enforced harshness bled from her tone as she spoke. “Healers are always in high demand for a mobile group such as ours. Beyond that, I am already concerned about sending mounted men into thick undergrowth – horses do not fair well when trapped between trees, regardless of how much space they are afforded. Griffons are all but useless in such a situation. And with what seems to be a blaze flaring up…”

“Yeah, I get it. You’re right.” Luz tried not to sound too huffy, flipping a hand casually at the reasonable argument presented to her. “Doesn’t mean we have to like it, though.”

The pair retreated back to the line, allowing Rezad to press onwards with the next wave of readied horsem*n as she and Amity sought out wherever the healer’s carriage had gotten to in the tumultuous mix of mounted travel. The field medics and surgeons were already bustling about when the girls located them, preparing winding strips of gauze and running fingertips fizzing with white mana over delicate steel tools as they doggedly readied themselves for the inevitable injuries.

Luz helped where she could – setting flames beneath pots to boil water into sterility, coaxing blocks of earth into seats and tabletops where directed, dropping lumps of steaming ice into bowls at the doctors’ requests. Amity did much the same, her horde of gooey golems shuddering to life as harried orderlies attempted to set up emergency supplies for any incoming wounded.

It was less than an hour past when they began to see the first few fighters trickling in, nursing burns and scratches that had snuck past their leather undergarments or seared past the platemail. And for a good few hours, the day passed in much the same way – tending to the scuffed and tired men and women of the Outriders, patching them up to be sent back into the fray or ordering them off to rest amongst the stopped wagons and mounts. Luz lost any sense of progress made, no true indication of success of failure provided by the constant low-level trickle of pained warriors as they sought treatment for their ails.

By early evening, the flow of soldiers had all but ceased, and the exhausted mage teetered out of the tent to hunt down whatever food anyone was willing to offer her after a long stretch of unbroken hauling of cargo, interspersed with spellwork meant to keep their supplies in working shape. She met with Amity, sat around a small fire and pot only a short distance from the medical tent, who offered her a sympathetic grin alongside a careworn bowl of meaty stew. So engrossed was she that Luz barely noticed Rezad until the captain was already upon them, letting the wooden dish fall from tipping its contents down her throat to spot the battered knight returning from the doctors’ hut.

“You have my appreciation, girls.” To the planeswalker’s muted surprise, the cavalry commander plopped down onto the rough log beside her, leaning forward to shovel out a portion of gruel for herself into a clean bowl. “The healers say you were instrumental in ensuring they remained well-stocked and responsive for the men. Good work, both of you.”

“Of course, Lady Rezad.” Amity scraped her rough spoon around the rim of her own cup, still managing to look quite composed in spite of the abomination sludge staining her cloak for the moment. “We only wish we were able to do more on the frontlines.” The knight looked as if she had something to say to that, but the pale witch bullied forward, changing the subject to something less contentious. “Do we have any idea what started the fire? And were there any other survivors or combatants we should worry about?”

Swallowing back whatever she’d originally intended to say, the minor noble only shook her head.

“The only signs of the flames’ source were the remains of an old camp, badly charred and quite rundown.” A shadow of something deeper flickered over the woman’s expression, for just a moment. “Of course, we found remnants of some of the travelers’ totems. I can only assume that they were another raiding party – savages, come crawling out of the woodworks of Jund to pillage our fair nation.” She poked idly at the slopping soup, her hunger somewhat forgotten in the face of such bitterness that lined her cheeks and eyelids. “Likely human, perhaps goblin or viashino. Had a dragon accompanied their little camp, the entire forest would have been incinerated long before we arrived.”

Before Luz could offer any comment in return, Amity piped up once again, and Luz almost bit her tongue trying to prevent any reaction from slipping through at her words.

“I’m sorry, a ‘viashino?’ I’m unfamiliar with the term.”

The human mage wanted to elbow the other girl in the side, or – something, anything really, because that was not the kind of question that someone attempting to keep their foreign nature on the down-low would be asking. Rezad, however, only gave them a calculated look over the rim of her bowl, a bit of uncertain wariness working its way into her expression.

“They are a race of crocodilian bipeds. Most of them have foul tempers, and fouler hygienic habits.” The knight let her bowl come to rest on the flaking log beneath her, wiping any remaining goulash from her lips with the back of a hand as her eyes flitted back and forth between her two guests. Amity must have caught onto Luz’s sudden tension, sat just beside her, because the coven commander made no move to thank the older woman for answering her unusual query.

Finally, after an eternity’s wait, the Outrider’s leader spoke slowly and surely, her palms carefully kept in plain view.

“You are both rather far from home, are you not?”

“Ah, well, you know how it is.” Slinging an arm about Amity’s shoulders, the sweating girl offered their companion a strained grin. “Humans and elves growing up near each other, lots of big talk about seeing the world, going on adventures together. Just the usual kind of thing going around these days, am I right?”

“Perhaps,” Lady Alwen allowed, giving a shallow nod that clearly spoke of her disbelief. “Two strangers in unusual clothes, of unusual origin, and wielding magics the likes of which I’ve never seen before.”

Luz – being so very used to staying mum in regards to anything planeswalking, lest it invite further trouble – failed to formulate a meaningful response before the armored woman stood again, dusting the dirt of the day from her plated skirt of leather and steel.

“Once, years ago, a dragon arrived to bring ruin upon the whole of Bant. He wielded strange abilities and an icy disdain that brought life as we knew it to a close. Perhaps he might’ve done more, were it not for the brave souls that stood before him.” She looked down upon the reticent pair, her features unreadable in the growing dusk. “Such a monster was not of our world, nor the others that he dragged into contact with the kingdom’s borders.”

At this, she glanced away, shuffling the strap of her sword with a single hand.

“The dragon’s evil came not from his strangeness, but his actions. It was his choices, and his alone, that led to so much death and destruction. He certainly didn’t put up cots or offer ice packs to wounded soldiers.” At that, Rezad tromped away, waving a lazy gauntlet over her shoulder as she submerged once more into the ocean of canvas and rucksacks for the evening. “Get some rest, you two. We have another long day of riding ahead of us.”

Neither of them spoke as the knight departed, Amity steadfastly avoiding Luz’s eyes as she busied herself with cleaning out the drying crust of their evening meal, before the human mage spoke up.

“Y’know, I kind of think I might want to write up, like… a primer, or something, about what I know from different planes. Just so we don’t keep running headfirst into letting the whole, ‘aliens from another planet’ thing slip.” Her tone was wry, growing only ever drier as she caught view of the witch’s knife-like ears heating up in embarrassment at the reference to her faux pas. “That sound like something you think you might be interested in, Amity?”

“…Ah, yes. Please. That would be nice.” She still had yet to face the other girl as she bustled about the campfire.

“Cool, cool. I’ll just stick it in the back of my sketchbook for now.” Tapping at her chin, she rifled through the battered backpack, fingers wrapping around the worn spiral of her drawing pad. “I wonder if I could make a buck selling this to other newbies if we run into them? Maybe I could call it… ‘A Planeswalker’s Guide to the Multiverse,’ or something.”

After a few seconds of additional reflection, Luz winced.

“Yeah, probably not, that sounds sorta copyright infringing. I’ll… figure it out as I go.”

Amity, as she might’ve expected, had no comment for that.

When they weren’t wrestling with cheap cloth-sack tents or putting out fires, when only fresh air bit at her lungs and chalky grit invaded her mouth, Luz allowed herself to melt into the presence of the world around them.

The smooth, loping motions of Meadow’s unending trot, combined with omnipresent summer warmth, were the perfect combination to lull the girl into a trance without constant diligence on her part. She’d watch the hills and miles roll by, checking in with Jace’s sputtering little probe every so often, but nothing ever seemed to truly change amongst the clopping horses and mounted soldiers. They’d fallen into a fugue – one of weary readiness for combat, on their part; as for the young mage, though, it was the first time she’d truly felt at peace in a long while.

Shimmering seas of pearly mana wafted about their beaten path, thick blankets of dozing magic pressing in from all sides even as it mingled with the soft blue pulses that drifted in on the crash and rumble of the tide at their flank. It wasn’t the same sensation she’d encountered that day on the plains of the Boiling Isles, sat beside Lilith and Amity; the fields of the Demon Realm, like everything else, seemed hardened at its edges, the kind of toughened wariness Luz associated with predator and prey on the sweltering savannah.

But in Valeron – and, by extension, the rest of Bant – she couldn’t help falling back into the gentle cushion of ever-present magics, letting them wash over her aching and sweating form as long days on the road took their toll. She could tell that Amity was doing much the same, the tension leaking from her posture even as the coven deputy kept her head on a swivel, though the human mage wondered if that could be chalked up to her friend’s dabbling in darker mana. Did white and black mingle like that, to sort of even out between self-assurance and paranoia?

Perhaps that was simply Amity’s nature – vigilant, perceptive, and oh so critical. And yet Luz found she really didn’t mind, especially on the occasions where she’d broken through the other girl’s hardened persona with laughter and needling.

It was not unusual for a burst of high winds to whip their cloaks into a frenzy, scrabbling across the scales of her modest armor with heated gusts of air coming off the dips and dives of the plains they traveled. On a drowsy whim, the planeswalker reached out during one particularly persistent squall that buffeted the rumbling caravan they were a part of, letting the snarls of white mana following in its wake tangle and curl about the open fragment of her mind as it snapped over her face.

Operating on instinct more than any informed sort of instruction, Luz raised an arm to snake through the air, her wrist twisting and tumbling – only to blink in surprise as the frenzied breeze parted before her, swirling around the motions of her limb as if she were conducting the weather with her very presence. Which, in a way, she was, because it was not a one-off occurrence. Head lolling to the side in undisguised curiosity, the young mage allowed herself to remain on the edge of that unbothered trance that had prompted the discovery in the first place, lazily basking in caressing surges of magic as the wind split at her command. It was less direction of a new gust, and more control of something already energized by outside forces, but it was a start nonetheless.

Luz amused herself for the rest of the day testing the small embers of her newfound affinity for white mana as they trudged onwards, rolling softly coruscating werelights between her knuckles as she focused on chasing the feeling that had led to her newest foray into unknown magic. It was a sensation much too ethereal to pin down, to grab on and command into being like fire or earth. Instead, it was the sort of mellow meditation that had never been her strong suit, the kind of acceptance of the current moment that was poorly engendered by a life on the move. For all the stressors that bore down upon her, in that instant, she felt she might be able to handle anything the world tried to throw in her path.

Green mana may have enforced the natural order, and red fought against it tooth and nail, but white magic seemed to bask in the glory of a second stretched into infinitude – the upholding of a process, crafted with every passing minute. And for all the chaos present in the plane’s atmosphere, it too adhered to its own set of rules in some esoteric way that blended past and present neatly together.

“Huh…”

She watched streamers of air wrap around her fingers, barely strong enough to tickle her bronzed flesh – and yet there they were, distortions in the natural world, bringing a blessed sensation of spreading chill with their passage over skin and joints.

“Neat.”

Days passed without an end in sight, and not for the first time did Luz wish there were an easier way to get about. Sure, she wasn’t familiar with the world they strode upon before their arrival… but it would’ve been nice if they’d landed a bit closer to their goal.

Maybe if she’d held a better picture of Ajani Goldmane’s soul in her mind, that unique signature she associated with another of her kind whenever they traveled in close proximity… Perhaps Jace could’ve provided them maps, as well, so that she could direct the primeval magics of her nature towards their desired destination.

But, no. Instead, days turned into a week, and then another half again, before their party found any signs of greater civilization from the backs of their flagging mounts. It was subtle, at first; an uptick in road markers and pavers, grass and roots beaten flat by wooden wheels giving way for the creeping sprawl of uneven brickwork. Distant buildings dotting the horizon, small farmsteads and creaking barns denoting the calmer atmosphere of the lands surrounding Valeron’s capital. Slowly, the tremendous expanse of inland forest began to wane once more, allowing the fields of wheat and untamed weeds take precedence in the brilliant sunlight.

Scars remained present, though, even so far into friendly territory. Great gouges and scorch marks littered hillsides springing upwards into the ridges of far-off mountains, shattered shells of siege weapons and the abandoned wreckage of lonesome camps lining the roads where they’d fallen. The odd patch of soil might be blackened beyond recourse, pitted with arrowheads and the hazy glimmer of magical damage to the environment, lingering long past the days of their fuel being expended in anger.

The quiet days between the village of Engleton and their journey to the Sun-Dappled Court were filled with melancholic watchfulness by the men and women around them, their eyes warily tracing ruins and lingering structures afar for any sign of hostility as they sharpened swords and hammered armor back into working shape. It was… disturbing, to see the pull of war tugging at their shoulders and mouths, grim lines set into exhausted faces as the valiant Outriders did their due diligence of warding the realm from horrors abroad. They were quite clearly tired, and only ever growing more so, but their gallantry remained unbowed in the face of the endless hordes that seemed to lurk just past their line of sight.

Perhaps its was just paranoia, on both their and Luz’s parts. But the evidence spoke otherwise.

How many planes looked like this, this… miserable slice of life amongst the detritus of battles and invasions? The human mage liked to think she wasn’t naïve, or at least, not overmuch anymore. People, and countries, and entire worlds were always scuffling over one thing or another. And sometimes, that meant not everybody was going to go home happy at the end of the day... if they returned at all.

And yet – and yet, some planes seemed almost mired in their constant battles. No respite, no happy ending, and it boggled her mind. Luz tried as best she could to imagine what life must be like, as the necromancer that had attacked the innocent little settlement of Engleton, for example.

What, in the end, did such a thing accomplish? A few hundred more hapless folks dead, turned into ravenous zombies, and for – what? Power? Maybe even pleasure?

The young mage pondered how one could ever arrive at such a decision. Perhaps it was something less shallow, though she doubted it. Politics, perhaps, or a longstanding feud between the villagers and those that had sought their end. In reality, though, Luz could only ever guess at the truth of the matter. Perhaps that lich didn’t even know the answer themselves.

Imagining a life spent on the move, on the run, seeking enemies when the multiverse seemed plenty willing to toss them your way with little prompting… Seeing the marks of devastation around her, and the daily battle against despair that the knights of the Third Valeronian Outriders struggled with at all hours…

A life of war and nothing else, Luz Noceda concluded to herself, must be a very lonely one indeed.

The flap of the tent that the pair of planeswalkers shared flapped open in the cooling night breeze, preceding the reappearance of the mint-haired witch with lantern in hand.

“Luz, could I ask you for a favor?”

“Hrmph – yeah, wut izzit?”

She crushed the burgeoning sleep from her eyes with a balled fist, fighting free of the sleeping bag snagged about her lower half. Realistically, there was still plenty of actionable evening left before the dark of the night became too overbearing to do anything meaningful, but the lengthy stretch of days spanning miles and miles were taking their toll on the mage’s energy. Adjusting to such an unusual style of living was a time-intensive process, and in the interim between an amateur understanding of riding to that of proficiency, Luz’s body found itself ready for deep, uninterrupted slumber without fail.

“I could use some help with redoing my braid.” Amity wrung her dangling locks with a slim hand, the low squish of dampness filling the tent indicating she must’ve taken a haphazard soldier’s bath recently. “Magically reapplying it every morning only works for so long before you have to restart it manually. And it’s… been a while since I did it by myself, so…”

“Yeah, it’s no problem. Lemme just -” A jaw-cracking yawn escaped Luz against her will, leaving her smacking lips in its wake. “Turn up the light a bit in here.”

A palmful of witchlights were more than enough to illuminate the darkened lean-to, casting a fan of fading shadows around the girls’ laps as they sat on the beaten grass between their cots, Amity facing away from Luz and towards the open flap twitching in the breeze.

“Alright. So. For this braid, you’ll need to…”

The human mage glacially followed the witch’s instructions as she led her step by step through the relatively complicated knot that formed her hairstyle, twining strands of the sleek locks between dozing fingers in an almost meditative trance. The form that slowly took shape reminded her, vaguely, of the Dutch braids she’d caught sight of in an old fashion magazine, discarded on the coffee table by her mother, the thick bands layered over a flowing backdrop of loose hairs to rest just above Amity’s shoulders.

Some days, she nearly regretted having her beloved mami lop off the dense ponytail she’d kept bunched up across the back of her skull… but letting it go, in the end, had meant much more to her than if she’d retained it. Not to mention it was significantly less hassle with her favored boyish cut, day in and day out.

With deft fingers darting just over the coven commander’s collarbone, the knots and twists fit snugly into place, and Luz let her hands fall away so that Amity could view her work. A spin of the girl’s wrist summoned a slim mirror in a sparkling spell circle, and she gave the braided length of hair a critical look – before a small smile stole its way onto her blank features.

“I’d say this is even better than I normally get it. Thanks, Luz.” The warm glance sent her way shot a shiver down her spine with the praise, but the planeswalker shook herself briefly, before returning the good-natured grin.

“Glad to be of help!” Without thinking overmuch about the motion, one of her hands snuck back up to skim across the folded locks, her thumb rubbing over a bend in the hairdo before her. “Dyed or not, you’ve got beautiful hair. It’d be a shame to leave you fighting bedhead every day.”

The faintest tinge of red was visible around the curve of Amity’s cheek following the compliment.

“Well – thank you. I do try my best to avoid looking too disheveled.”

“Oh?” Luz drawled, a teasing lilt to her voice as she leaned forward, both of her hands now gently massaging her friend’s braid. “So you let yourself be just a tiny bit disheveled on the daily, as a treat?”

Amity chuckled softly at the insinuation, letting her chin drop into an idling hand.

“Yes, actually. I have to drive my mother up the wall somehow, after all. And when she’s not around, it’s the principal of the thing.”

Despite the jesting tone of her words, Luz’s brow furrowed at the reference to Odalia Blight, her eyes trailing the stained mint hue of Amity’s hair.

“Lemme guess… she’s the one that likes green in the family, right?”

“Oh, she more than ‘likes’ it,” Came the rueful snort, a bit of aggravation bleeding through. “Edric and Emira were the ones lucky enough to come out with the correct, natural color.” One of her arms snaked backwards to grab at her braid, bouncing the swath of hair for emphasis. “I was informed that copper was out of season… permanently. She always wanted all of her children to match.”

The last word hissed out with no little venom, but Amity’s smirk did not disappear, only twisted towards something bittersweet.

“Of course, considering that her firstborn twins were unabashed miscreants at heart, whereas I angled more towards a bookworm, she never really got her way, in the end. Plus, I know for a fact she hates this hairstyle, too.”

“Huh. Really?” It certainly looked perfectly fine to Luz, but perhaps that was simple pride in her efforts speaking.

“Yup.” Amity viciously popped the final later of her response. “She may not look it, but Lilith Clawthorne is a massive history buff. So, when I expressed my… interest in something other than the ponytail my mother always insisted on, she and I searched for something suitable in the books she had regarding the Savage Ages. This setup, right here -” Her fingers shook her hair once again. “Was pretty popular amongst barbarians and warrior princesses, a good few centuries ago. And guess who else was well aware of such a fact?”

The witch’s smile turned downright mean, in the silence between her words.

“None other than Odalia Blight, who has always been rather obsessed with history. At least, her own history. Can’t brag about yourself and everyone up to and including your excessively rich great-great-grandmother if you don’t know anything about the past, after all.”

“Ha!” Luz barked out a laugh at the thought of the older woman’s puckered face, something she imagined to look much like her friend’s own features, except with any hint of humor stripped from her entire being. “I bet that put a real bee in her bonnet.”

Amity hummed in amused agreement, subconsciously leaning backs into the gentle fingers trailer down the length of her hair, angling back on her palms so that she was all but falling into Luz’s lap. They sat there in companiable silence, for minutes that stretched like hours, before the pale girl spoke up again. Her words came much softer than before, an air of wistfulness to them – or perhaps something akin to regret.

“She was the one who set me up for this job, you know.” She spoke softly, as if afraid of shattering some calm that existed by way of the world’s ignorance to her problems. “Or, well, the apprenticeship that became a full-time position. Being Lilith’s prodigy didn’t exempt me from coven tryouts. At first, it surprised me – not only did she have the ear of the Emperor’s Coven head, but they weren’t even all that friendly. Maybe it was… favors, or something. A bribe? I don’t know.

“In retrospect, it was probably the Abomaton that turned her sour to the idea of having me serving the Emperor directly.” At the confused hum she received, she angled her head just a bit to catch sight of Luz’s uncertain expression, taking it for the request it was. “It was a project that Dad had been working on, during my sophom*ore year at Hexside. ‘The next step in home protection and defense,’ my parents called it. They were definitely effective – it turns out that giving regular abominations metal armor, and…” The coven commander leaned upwards briefly to pantomime the motion of firing something akin to a gun, before settling on the heels of her palms once more. “Goo grenade launchers, and goo beams, makes them pretty good soldiers. Or at least, that was what the Emperor determined, once he learned of the project.”

Luz winced at the thought, letting out a pained hiss between her teeth.

“Oh, great. So Belos has a spooky army of mega-abominations wandering around somewhere? That couldn’t possibly end horribly at all.”

Snorting at the girl’s barbed sarcasm, Amity shook her head.

“For the most part, they’re used as backup for police and coven actions. Apparently, people get nervous when their jobs are threatened by automated workers, so they kicked up a fuss and the Emperor had to reel back their public usage before any riots could start.” A short, aggressive sigh burst from her lips to punctuate the statement. “No, the real problem – at least for me – started when my mother probably started pushing Emperor Belos too hard on sales numbers and logistics. Odalia Blight is, and always will be, a harsh haggler.” Her mouth tightened into a grim line. “But you don’t haggle with the ruler of the Boiling Isles, and you definitely don’t keep trying at it after the first time, either.

“After a meeting with the Emperor’s people a few months before my graduation… I’m pretty sure she finally found the one thing she wouldn’t bend on in regards to making money, and that’s her pride. She came home furious, practically ranting about how foolish the Emperor and his lackeys were for their ‘shortsighted approach’ to crafting an army of mechanized golems.” Her gaze remained distant and forlorn, fixed on the hint of horizon just past their exposed tent entrance. “And from that point on, she did her level best to denigrate anything and everything to do with His Majesty. I’m honestly surprised she didn’t get herself hauled off to jail with a nasty slip of the tongue,” She confessed quietly.

“Dang. I guess your mom does take herself pretty seriously,” Luz muttered in faint shock. “And, lemme guess, she decided to pick on you since you weren’t planning on swapping career paths at the very last minute?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” The responding laugh was bitter and low. “She got so bad at one point, Ed and Em considered sabotaging some of Dad’s work to flood the manor with abomination goop just so that she’d have something else to get angry about.”

“Aw, how sweet of them!” Luz crooned softly, cupping her hands before her. “All for their favorite little sister? I wish I had siblings that’d do that stuff for me.”

“Want to take mine? It’s only handy when they’re on your side,” Amity joked dryly, letting a wry smirk flit across her face.

They shared a chuckle at that, their mirth fading quietly as the conversation petered to a stop, leaving the witch sagging in exhaustion against the human’s shins. After a few further moments of simply basking in the peace of the night, Amity shook herself out of the descending stupor, a spin of her fingers sending a flash of magic over her scalp – before the braid tugged itself apart neatly, its shape memorized by the enchantment to be re-braided the following morning.

“Thanks for letting me vent again, Luz. I think I needed that.”

“No problem-o, hermana. What else are friends for?” She slung an arm about Amity’s shoulders, giving her another wide grin. “I’m always here if you need to blow up about your mom some more.”

“Only if you intend to listen to a lot of complaining about ballroom etiquette and half-finished lessons on finance,” The witch groused, a slim smile in place. “I don’t even want to know how much money she spent on those dancing lessons for high-society partying, and I’ve never needed them once.”

“Really?” Luz asked, intrigued at the thought of her friend being anywhere near a proficient dancer. “That’s a shame. It sounds like it could be kind of fun!”

“Not when you’re stuffed into an overly frilly dress and forced to make small talk, it isn’t.”

“No, no, like – the dancing itself.” She flapped a hand at the thought of socialite entertainment. Ugh. “With those moves you pull when we’re in a fight, I bet you’re a great dancer.”

“You, ah -” Amity seemed taken aback at the suggestion, a hint of red highlighting her cheeks as she tucked a wayward strand of loose-hanging hair away. “You really think so? My tutors always praised me during lessons, but it never really… registered with me.”

“Definitely.” Grinning down at the slightly shorter girl, Luz took up a mildly teasing tone. “Maybe you could show me how good you are one day, Miss Blight?”

Her friend didn’t really answer, looking wide-eyed and flushed in the face – and it was only in the void of silence that sprung up that she realized just how close they were to each other, only a foot apart or so after standing from their haircare session. Taking a step back seemed to snap Amity out of her momentary trance, and she cleared her throat roughly, turning on her heel to reach her cot and shuck off her stained outer layers for the day.

“I’ll, ah. Consider taking y-you up on that, someday, Luz.” She shot the lanky mage a quick glance, before steadfastly returning her eyes to the creaking bedspread before her. “I think it’s time we get to bed, don’t you?”

Surrounded by the quietude of falling night minutes later, their lights extinguished, Luz felt a blush of her own stain her cheeks as she reflected on where her sudden, irresistible bout of… flirtiness came from. She was getting much too distracted – they had a mission, and she doubted Amity would appreciate them taking a detour in the middle of something so important for something silly like holding hands, or, or thinking about going anywhere on anything like a date and –

Luz needed to calm down, and let herself go to sleep. After all, what would her mother say if she could see the state her daughter was in now?

…Wait. No. That’s not helping at all.

Spinning about in bed, mashing her burning face into the lumpy pillow, the young woman decided to never again contemplate what Camila Noceda might say about her child’s love life for fear of how embarrassing her theoretical commentary would inevitably be.

After ten days of putting out fires and grappling with the basics of extended horse care and riding, the outer borders of the Sun-Dappled Court and its Twelve Trees crested the horizon with sturdy walls interspersed with flowering, towering trees.

Or perhaps, it would be more accurate to describe as the fortifications being constructed about the grand arboreal hulks that wheeled off into sprawling glades, capped with golden beams of coruscating light betwixt drooping branches. The masterful craft of the masonry on display gently contained the patches of wilderness without throttling their growth. A ribbed tunnel of oaken limbs soared overhead as Luz and Amity pushed their steeds into a trot beside the Outriders, staring open-mouthed at the cultivate beauty before them. Softly sloping upwards, the paved road splintered into orderly lines of cobblestone walkways that revealed the terraced nature of the artificial forest all about them. Each tier bristled with stringy sunflowers and stubby shrubs, wrapping about the roots of each grand woodland arbiter like streams of crawling ants.

The ever-present infusion of distilled sunlight gave the city a dream-like quality, enwrapping every austere detail while gently washing out the inherent imperfections of an integrated existence with nature from one scene to the next. By the time they broke the cover of the interlaced canopy she’d chased the entire way with her eyes, Luz could barely tell where the edges of the outside world began and ended amongst Valeron’s capital.

Beyond the distant rooftops of slate and shingles, angling upwards in stacked defensive columns, she could make out the silhouette of some truly enormous trees – their noble branches dwarfed the roads they covered in scale, looking for all the world as if someone had uprooted small skyscrapers and set them into the trunk of some monolithic set of hardwoods.

Within the metropolis proper, signs of civilization were much less subtle. Loamy earth gave way to brick and mortar, rising like a cluster of healthy mushrooms towards the clear sky far above. True defenses ringed the inner sanctum of the Sun-Dappled Court, its heart armored and patrolled by countless blocky bulwarks manned with stern-faced knights. Here, the harsher realities of Bant’s difficulties could be spotted once more amongst the settlement’s occupants, their faces lined with dirt and stress even as a hearty few cheered at the sight of the returning brigade.

A quick consultation of their gifted probe revealed only the same – an unerring gesture northward, further into the expansive walls of the community. Jace’s trinket hummed excitedly with every step, and Luz opted to take such a thing as an indicator of their closeness to the device’s target, seeing how it had been fairly steady throughout the long days on the road to Valeron’s core.

“Welp – looks like this is where we get off.”

Giving Meadow a grateful pat on the head, Luz slipped from the soft leather of the worn saddle, flicking the reins forward to lead her trusty steed forward on foot as Amity did the same.

Ultimately, their departure from the company of the Third Valeronian Outriders was much the same as their arrival – it was little trouble to find Rezad at the head of her proverbial pack, and thank her for the opportunity to ride with the more experienced men and women under the Lady’s command.

“It was no trouble at all,” The noble stated with a small smile. “In fact, it was a pleasure. It is quite rare to meet polite and efficient strangers in our travels, these days – a fine change of pace, by my count.” She co*cked a brow at them then, glancing back at the horses they brought in tow. “I suppose you have some other way of navigating the streets?”

“Just gonna follow our little buddy here – he hasn’t led us astray yet.” Luz hefted the thrumming orb in her palm, giving it a light toss.

“I see. In that case -” A mailed fist crashed against her breastplate. “May the angels keep your blade sharp, and your aim true. Good luck to you both.”

And with that, Lady Alwen took the reins of their steeds in one hand and strode back into the seething crowd of her foot soldiers, barking commands as if she’d been born and bred to do so. Considering her heritage, it was very well a possibility.

With their thanks and goodbyes given, the duo of offworlders stepped out from the crush of armored warriors in the direction of the nearest clear avenue, allowing the drone to bob between them as it drifted forward unhurriedly. They crossed winding thoroughfares of carriage paths and tightly-packed buildings, the winding stretches of sun-faded grey bricks cut through by troughs of flowering bushes and craggy trees. Combined with the supernatural canopy far above, the streets of the Sun-Dappled Court struck as airy and welcoming, even within the packed confines of buzzing residences and commerce hubs that it was.

The two drifted pasted flowering corridors and wheeling plazas until the evening burned overhead with the local star’s fiery descent – and it was as dusk approached that they find Ajani Goldmane, sequestered within a property lined by a pair of roots the size of train cars.

Their erstwhile little guide brought them to the edge of a towering watchtower, its arcing stonework leaning protectively over a sheltered training ground nestled at its hip. Even with night slinking over the horizon, they could still make out the clatter of blades and susurrus of conversing sentients, their echoes hovering into the open roads. When Luz and Amity turned the corner, though, their eyes immediately alighted upon their target.

His description in the dossier did Ajani little justice – it had failed to fully encapsulate the imposing figure of wiry muscle and shaggy, ghostly fur that dwarfed the armored humans training at his side. His beastly countenance was only compounded by the scrawl of black markings surrounding his one – and only – blue eye, and much like the more familiar figure of Angrath, his athletic grace was marred by a war’s worth of scars. For all his gruff appearance, though, bedecked in buckled leather and clanging pauldrons, his open posture and hearty laugh were all that were necessary to put Luz’s heart at ease. Watching the grim figure clap a soldier about the shoulder, sharing a low joke in warm tones, it was clear to see why Jace Beleren was willing to count the veteran leonin amongst his trusted allies.

They opted to watch and wait for the yard to clear, idling against the chest-high fencing as squads milled about, shucking off dented metal plates and rasping oily cloths over dulled swords as they made conversation. The albino planeswalker walked amongst them, lending a hand or a kind word where he saw it appropriate, hauling a carrying pole of sloshing buckets over to a corner of the nearby armory without pause. It wasn’t long before he was the last man standing within the courtyard, spending the quiet minutes by himself setting racks of weaponry upright and sorting their contents with a keen eye.

Glancing around the evacuated training grounds, Luz pushed up on her heels to lean over the fence, preparing to call out –

“Are you girls coming in?” The lion called back in a friendly rumble without turning to face them. “It looks like you were hoping to have a conversation, tonight.”

For a moment, it felt as if Luz were a child on the floor of her living room, situated between the warm legs of her mother and father, watching in rapt attention as animated creatures danced and sung, spinning about their tragic feline ruler with his rich, quaking voice. But the illusion passed easily, leaving her anchored in reality once more.

The wind taken out of her sails, the human mage rocked backwards, giving Amity a brief shrug before pushing open the rickety wooden gate and striding boldly in.

“Sorry to interrupt your cleanup, Mister Goldmane,” Luz stated cheerfully as they stepped up beside the feline mage. “A mutual friend sent us your way – he said you might be able to help us out with a, uh… job.”

He turned about to take in their appearances more closely, then, towering over the pair of young women as his sole eye appraised their dusty garb. His gaze lingered on the human spellcaster a moment longer than her companion, the broad expanse of his nostrils twitching as a memory seemed to spark in his mind.

“Ah – I thought I recognized that scent.” A warm grin worked its way across his muzzle, as Ajani let his tired arms fall to rest at his beltline. “You were there on Ravnica, were you not? At the final push against Bolas’ forces?”

“Yessir!” Luz provided him a gamely salute, standing at exaggerated attention. “Luz Noceda, at your service. This is Amity Blight – she’s a bit newer to this stuff than you or me.” Unlike last time, she firmly resisted the urge to rib her friend at her expense.

It wasn’t easy, but she managed.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Blight.” Ooh, he was good. Apparently the leonin had an eye for the upper-class vibe that she’d come to associate with the coven deputy. “Now, who’ve you been speaking to about my help? I’d assume, with how far it seems you’ve come, that it must be something serious.”

“You’re correct, unfortunately.” Mirroring the elder ‘walker’s pose, Amity fiddled with the loops of her trousers with an anxious twist of the fingers. “We met with Jace Beleren, in his apartment back on Ravnica. A… deity, I suppose you could call it, of my home world, sent us on a quest to discover what we could about the modern-day Phyrexians.” The pale witch’s tone grew ever more dire as the words hesitantly poured forth. “It believes they present a serious danger to both the Demon Realm, and the rest of the multiverse. From what we’ve seen so far, of their old plane? It’s right – and we need to know what they’ve been up to on New Phyrexia, the sooner the better.”

Had he not been coated in thick white fur, Luz thought, Ajani’s expression at her statement suggested he might’ve gone pale in the face at such a request.

“…Well then. I see why our mutual friend seemed to believe I might be of some assistance.” His unnerved look slid away for something closer to bafflement, tinged with a mild amusem*nt. “And – a god sent you on this quest, you say? I’m somewhat shocked that Jace suggested me as his first pick for aiding you.”

“Really?” Luz queried, a bit of worry slipping out. “Um… sorry. Technically, he did give us a few folks to pick from. Are you, uh, an atheist…?”

“No, no. It’s no matter,” Goldmane waved a paw dismissively, the massive digits swinging through the air with ease. “I doubt either of you are from the plane of Theros, so it is unlikely you serve any masters I might take umbrage with.” His cobalt iris shined with something dangerous, for a split second. “I very much doubt I’m their favorite person, these days.”

“Nope; I’m from a world called ‘Earth’. Or… the Human Realm, if you ask certain people.” She threw a pointed thumb over her shoulder. “Amity’s from the Demon Realm, like she said. I’ve never even been to Theros, honestly.” Momentarily forgoing their dire quest, the human mage glanced up at the cat-man’s scarred face, her eyes sparkling with interest. “Not really sure I’ve really heard other ‘walkers talk about it, either – what’s its deal?”

“Theros,” Ajani indulged her curiosity. “Is a land of eternal summer, moderate and warm for the most part. It is a harsh land of city-states, the people’s central ‘poleis,’ with the world beyond their walls dominated by tribal beings and great monsters alike. Its seas rage against the shore, its mountains soar high into the clouds, and the airy terrain between is filled with abundant, fertile soil for any farmer hardy enough to weather its cruelties. And lording their supremacy over countless mortals for countless years are their gods – born of hopes and dreams, given to petty squabbling after millennia of ruling the world uncontested.” A mirthless grin appeared on his lips. “Well, until most recently. Not everyone was willing to roll over and show their bellies to the callous hands of their beloved deities.”

The impassioned response left dead air between the three of them in its wake, and after recognizing the somewhat awkward silence that his words had engendered, Ajani cleared his throat roughly, ears swiveling downwards in contrition.

“At any rate. Regarding the Phyrexians, and the stronghold they’ve corrupted Old Mirrodin into with their twisted machines…” The second time examining them, his gaze was much more critical, brow furrowing in thought. “I have little interest in dragging a pair of helpless cubs into a fight they cannot win. And make no mistake – the horrors that lay in your current path are not the sort of beings you wish to underestimate.”

Folding his bulky arms over one another, a huff of heated air escaped his flattened nose.

“I would like an idea of your capabilities. Experience, specialties, known magics – whatever you are able to offer.”

They took turns rattling off their qualifications, listing the numerous scrapes and battles they’d been in since early adolescence. Luz unholstered her staff, swinging it easily over deft palms, giving a few exploratory jabs to an imagined opponent as she worked her way through the rambling, disconnected list of spells she’d acquired over the years. Amity did much the same, in a clipped and clinical tone, summoning forth a basic abomination for the skeptical warrior to inspect. The girls spoke of their efforts together in conquering first a dungeon, then a fearsome drake, before plumbing the depths of Old Phyrexia for its greedily guarded secrets. Through it all, Ajani’s expression remained stonily unmoved, revealing no indication of what he thought of their sprawling adventure.

Finally, when they’d shot forward lights and ice and sparks, the elder mage presented his verdict.

“You both have promise, and passion, in spades. There is plenty to work with, here.” His claws tugged at the short fur of his wide chin, an uncertain hum rattling in his broad chest. “But I do not know if I am comfortable, taking you into that hellish place. Regardless of your awareness of the dangers that Phyrexian oil represents… there is a significant difference between seeing the bones of their ancient crimes, and to face the living evidence of such things in combat.”

She tried not to let any of her bruised feelings show on her face at his words – but Amity was not so inclined, an aggravated sneer curling at her mouth.

“Well, regardless of whether or not you approve, we -” Her golden eyes flicked over to Luz. “I – have to do this. I refuse to leave my people and my world vulnerable to those monsters. It’s up to you if you’ll be there to help – but if you don’t think it’s worth your time, tell us now. We spent long enough as it is tracking you down.”

The young mage feared that their potential guide might bristle at the dismissiveness in the witch’s tone – but the scarred leonin only nodded slowly, grumbling wordlessly to himself as he gave them one final inspection. After long seconds of tense contemplation, Ajani seemed to arrive at a decision.

“I won’t take part in sending you to your deaths unnecessarily. But.” Looking about the emptied and darkening courtyard, taking in the smattering abandoned equipment that awaited his ministrations, the great lion continued. “My time amongst the men and women of Bant is coming to a close. Truthfully, I’d only returned at the request of an old friend I’d once thought lost.” A ghost of a fond smile passed across his muzzle. “She’d wanted my help to arm the innocents of the land she’d come to love, in the face of the darkness we’ve faced together. And now they prepare to march on to war, while I find myself without a goal at hand.”

Goldmane’s expression solidified into solemnity as it returned to his beseechers.

“In less than a month, these soldiers will depart. The days leading up to such an event will be occupied by them training for the harshest battles that Alara, as a whole, has ever seen in recent years.” Shoulders stiffening, his singular eye focused on Amity’s defiant posture. “Thus, you have my terms – train with these men and women. Learn how their ways of honor and comradery have adapted in the face of foreign dangers. Demonstrate to me that you are both capable of surviving in the wilds beyond the walls.”

One monstrous paw swept wide in a lazy arc.

“Impress me with your progress, your skill – and I will take you to New Phyrexia.”

Luz shared a look with her friend, uncertainty and impatience plain in their shared glance – but really, what other choice did they have, without wasting more time hunting down the alternatives?

The witch stood straight as she delivered their answer, hands clasped behind the small of her back with military precision.

“We’ll take that wager, Ajani Goldmane. When do we start?”

Chapter 29: Interlude 4

Chapter Text

Once upon a time – before the light of life her came barreling back in, only to spin back off into the darkened unknown – Camila could predict every tick, every tremble of sound to be found in her house on a given weekend.

The dishwasher would rattle and rumble with the swish of boiling water on porcelain, competing with the coffeemaker as it burbled merrily with crackling caffeine. The birds outside the window, bordering the edge of the forest, would chirp cheerfully, incessantly, underpinning the murmur of suburbia and the hum of cars with a blanket of white noise. And then autumn would come, chased in by the approach of winter, and high winds would replace twittering birdsong. On some days – only some, mind you, and thus outside the grayscale comfort of normality – the radio or television might fill the dead air with their own tinny brand of disruption.

And then, for a brief and shining period, her house became a home once more, her daughter’s voice cracking the stillness every so often with its warm tones. Laughter and conversation flooding the void left by years of nothing, of words unspoken without any to hear them. All too quickly did that bracing solace disappear – gone like it had never been – but now, the silence that stretched across the Noceda household remained something akin to… anticipatory.

Awaiting the day that her beloved Luz would walk its halls once again, safe and secure in the territory of her childhood.

Of course, all of these ruminations, these… daily contemplations of static quiet broken by the expected hum of life over the last half-decade or so, could not account for extenuating external factors brought in the wake of her child’s second departure.

The chipped rim of a half-full mug rapped mildly, if sharply, against the firm wood of the kitchen table. A brief, appreciative sigh filled the room as a prelude to the continuation of a rant long in the making.

“I don’t know about you -” A pale hand brought the cup back up to tip precariously towards Camila, flinty golden eyes narrowed in remembered annoyance, as Edalyn Clawthorne gestured melodramatically at her host. “But personally? I really wonder how the hells my parents ever got on money-wise, with how dumb my ma can be with the family finances, sometimes.”

The first time she’d received an unexpected visitor following Luz leaving to risk life and limb for her alien friends and their world – a fact that still left Camila’s chest tight with pride and terror, on lonely nights – her impromptu guest had come as a bit of a shock. After all, why should she anticipate any of the strange, otherworldly folk that her mija had introduced into their lives to follow up in any way?

By most standards, she meant little to them. A borderline non-entity, beyond their shared relationship with the brilliant girl that was her daughter, and the brief time Camila had spent allowing them into her house during the glorious time spent catching up on Luz’s busy life beyond their world.

And so it was with no small amount of bemusem*nt that she beheld the pale figure of the titular ‘Owl Lady’ standing on her porch, bold as brass in broad daylight, looking only slightly anxious about her odd intrusion into the unassuming nurse’s weekend cycle.

“Ah – oh. Eda Clawthorne?” She hadn’t meant it as a question, though the inflection seemed appropriate. “Buenos días…” Her faltering greeting trailed off, expression nonplussed, even as the lanky woman almost visibly sweated out the awkwardness between them. “I – wasn’t expecting to see you today. Is there something I can… help you with?”

“Hey again, Mama Noceda!” To her credit, the other woman’s grin only came across as slightly forced, a tight wave following in its wake. “I was doing some, uh, spring cleaning back at the ol’ homestead, when I dug up some of Luz’s extra clothes, a few odds and ends, that sorta junk. Not much, really. Girly always seemed to pack pretty light.” She jostled the bundle Camila had originally missed with her occupied hand, drawing the bleary-eyed human’s sight down to the packet of folded cloth at her strange guest’s hip. “Thought you might appreciate having it for when the kiddo swings by again.”

“Oh. Well – thank you, señora. I’m sure Luz will be happy to get these back.” She took the collection of personal effects, thoughtfully bound in a length of twine, and leaving a strand of silent uncertainty between the two as she reclaimed her daughter’s belongings. “Was there anything else you needed? I was just getting ready for a morning jog, so…”

“Ah… nope! Not at the moment.” Giving a brief, insincere chuckle, the woman – what was it Luz had called her people, las brujas? – stepped back off the porch, her pointed heel clacking against the worn concrete of the front walk. “I’ll swing by if I hear anything important, let you know, assuming Luz doesn’t get around to it quick enough.”

“…I look forward to it. Have a nice day, Miss Clawthorne.” With a short parting wave, Camila stepped back inside, clothes in hand and a bit of befuddlement in her chest as she tracked the foreign woman’s progress back into the leafy press of Gravesfield’s woods.

It seemed she might need to make a more concerted effort to keep the house clean in the future, on the off chance of any further surprise visitations. The mother was… not fully decided, on how she felt about such an event. On one hand, it had been rather considerate of Eda to come by simply to drop off some of Luz’s stray belongings. The Lord knew that girl could be forgetful when it to anything less important than the absolute essentials. On the other, however… she hadn’t forgotten their last conversation, the mixed burn of emotions caught in her craw as she thanked the other woman for helping her daughter so much, only to hurt Luz in the final stretch with her carelessness and self-serving attitude.

Opting to put aside the tangle of uncertainties temporarily, she trudged upstairs to deposit the bundle on her child’s unoccupied bed, and made a note to keep an eye out for any other alien visits.

Thus, with part of her focus dedicated to remaining vigilant for the roaming witch’s presence, she was much less taken aback when Eda Clawthorne made another appearance at her door in the early morning light only a week later, idly munching on something fried and sugary as the co*cked lid of a cardboard box draped over her arm.

“Gearing up for ‘nother sunrise run, Cam?” The pale woman, Camila noted, seemed much more co*cksure of herself than the prior visit to the Noceda homestead. “I was in the neighborhood to pick up some fancy breakfast for the boys back home, thought I might swing by and try to ruin your diet a little.” She shook the container of donuts with ill-disguised teasing, her golden fang pressed against her lip in the muffled impression of a teasing smirk.

Perhaps, the elder Noceda pondered, I should’ve run her off the last time she came by.

Ultimately, she did – in fact – indulge in a donut, as offered by the tempting witch. They puttered about for a few minutes in the indulgent warmth of a late summer morning, sharing only snippets of meaningless small-talk about the burgeoning day, before the other woman proclaimed that she needed to take her remaining treats back to the house, lest she return to a riot at her delayed arrival.

As she stepped away, however, her outstretched leg jerked, and Eda paused to look back at her erstwhile conversational partner with a somber expression.

“Eh, meant to say – no word from the kid on my end, just yet. I’ve got my ear to the ground, but…” One slim hand seesawed back and forth with trepidation, the gesture intentionally vague. “There’s only so much you can do to keep track of stuff across entire worlds, even with magic. Here’s hoping the trip’s quick, though.”

“It’s no problem.” Ignoring the tiny surge of disappointment at the proclamation, Camila gave a good-natured shrug at the report. “I’m keeping my expectations low, just so that I’ll be pleasantly surprised when Luz comes home. I appreciate the thought, though,” She added after a moment’s hesitation.

The taller woman gave a noncommittal nod, but made no immediate move to resume her departure. After a few long seconds of debate, she looked back over her shoulder, clearly worrying at her lip in thought.

“Hey, I know you don’t have any way to get in contact with me on the regular, but you’d, uh – you’d say something if anything came up on your end, right?”

For a moment, Camila was almost truly offended at the implied notion of Eda’s question – but when their eyes met, gentle brown to soft gold, it almost seemed to her that she was staring down a worried mother hen, fussing over a prematurely emptied nest.

Something settled in her breast, seeing the wound tension binding the witch’s posture – not for herself, but for Camila’s own beloved child, and her answer was delivered firmly and clearly.

“Of course. You would be the first to know, after me.”

The grateful grin she received in return, stripped of any slyness, was rather beatific. Watching her visitor’s retreating form, noting the lightness of her step as the willowy woman strode into the trees, Camila marveled at the clear evidence of yet another person who’s heart her pequeño amor had managed to worm her way into.

Licking the lingering sugar from her fingertips, the nurse wondered briefly if the treats had been an attempt at a peace offering, or even apology, and decided that the difference didn’t really matter all that much, in the end.

After that encounter – and the lack of rejection at the visits, on Camila’s end – the Owl Lady seemed determined to make her presence more regularly known. It never became intrusive, per say, though the human woman had certainly not expected the stranger to form a habit of lurking on the streets of a sleepy little town like Gravesfield. It almost struck her as out of place, really. Eda Clawthorne made little effort to disguise any of the bravado or flair she carried with her like a badge of honor, the same crimson dress catching the elder Noceda’s eye every time it passed, matched only by the silvery mane that flowed over it.

Honestly, she considered it a minor miracle that nobody seemed to take notice of the visiting witch’s extravagance, or the alien features that clearly marked her as other. She broached the subject in passing, one day, on an overcast morning where the other woman intercepted her on return from her early day exertions.

“Whaddya mean, how do I avoid attention?” The pale foreigner snorted, a hand at her hip. The other was occupied balancing a nondescript sack over one shoulder, bulging with indiscernible cargo as it rattled about. “You must not’ve kept a close eye out in the past – this ain’t my first time digging around for goodies, in this fun little backwater.” She shifted a bit, a trickle of self-consciousness entering her voice. “I mean, y’know. There’s a few stores around here that might keep my face up on the wall with a ‘do not serve’ sign, but hey. That’s just the norm honestly.”

Before Camila could question that vaguely ominous statement, the witch waved her palm, clearly unwilling to linger on the topic.

“And besides – anybody bugs me about standing out, I just tell ‘em I’m headed to a party. Works a good… ninety? Eighty-five percent of the time? Something like that. The rest of the time, when I’m not elbow deep in gullible saps, I just throw a bandanna on to cover up the ears. Then folks just assume I’m a nutty grandma, and not an alien.”

“…Okay.” Opting to take the high road and roll with the rather strange punches, Camila gave her an indulgent nod, her brow wrinkled with confusion. “But still, what are you even doing in town? Don’t you… your people use a different currency? I wouldn’t think doing any business would be easy around here, for you.”

“Welp, it’s less a case of ‘honest work,’ and more a bit of good ol’ ‘reclamation of goods,’ if you know what I’m saying.” She patted her sagging rucksack for emphasis, adjusting the hefty load with a shoulder. “Not sure how much Luz got around to telling you, but I hawk lots of the junk you humans love tossing out to all the little demons and witches who want a taste of weird stuff from another world. I’ve even figured out how to fix some of it, too. Makes it easier to mark stuff up and when you know what it’ll get done for ya. And since it looks like you’re hitting the end of summer out here, the garbage gets mixed around – helps keep the variety on market days.”

It was, admittedly, a bit of a struggle to not show her disdain for the witch’s implication of scamming, taking advantage of the unfortunate and uninformed to make a quick buck. That fact paled in comparison, however, to the idea of having the witch wander near and around her property after spending the entire day dumpster diving.

Camila Noceda was, first and foremost, a career nurse, and she knew just how unhealthy that kind of habit could be, after years of patching scrapes and giving out stitches to countless curious teens and bashful trash pickers around town.

She silently decided to give the magical stranger the benefit of the doubt, however, and assume she kept some kind of… spell, or artifact, or whatever that would help keep her hale and hearty, not to mention unblemished. The mother certainly hadn’t noticed any signs of exertion with her on-again-off-again conversational partner that pointed towards Eda getting away with being unacceptably filthy.

Unmarred by rubbish she may be, but the signs of work on a hot day remained present on the Clawthorne woman’s person. Sweat beaded her forehead as they spoke, and Camila was able to make out the snail-trails of its passage across her pale shoulders under the approaching midday sun.

There was some hesitation, as the words made their way up through her chest, but the mixed bag of conflicting feelings yet to be compartmentalized lost to the trappings of hospitality from a lifetime of serving troublesome patients; and so, she found herself asking –

“Do you want to step inside for a few minutes? I’ve got a fresh pitcher of lemonade cooling off, if you’d like some.”

Eda perked up at the offer, hiking the bag over her spine so it could be dropped off at the door.

“Ooh, don’t mind if I do! Isn’t that kind of stuff super acidic, though? How’d you nullify that without any spells to handle it, some sorta weird human alchemy, or whatever?”

“Ah… no, it’s – it’s not that sour. I made sure to sweeten it a bit after I squeezed them.” The bespectacled woman blinked, nonplussed, before amending her statement, “I mean, the sugar isn’t good for you, I suppose. You aren’t diabetic, are you?”

“I’m not entirely certain I know what that is,” Eda proudly declared, marching up the front drive with her stolen garbage in tow. “But I guess we’re going to find out.”

Camila followed quickly behind, one hand going for her keys.

“Wait, no, diabetic shock isn’t something to kid around about, tu vieja bruja loca -”

And so, without either of them really noticing, it was no longer so odd to see the otherworldly woman seated around the Noceda kitchen table in between her trips to and from her bizarre home. She didn’t appear daily, perhaps only every two or three days, but it was enough to keep Camila on her toes in case of another semi-consistent stopping-by.

On the first time she’d been truly invited into the little house the human woman called her own, Eda came across as somewhat self-conscious, keeping her undisguised curiosity regarding the trappings of suburban life to herself, though her host caught her looking about with naked consideration in her eyes. They stuck to safe topics as Camila doled out a sweating glass of homemade juice, speaking offhandedly of the slow alteration to the climate as fall knocked on the door, or about any juicy bits and bobs the witch had found while digging for scraps elsewhere in town.

When silence fell between them, though, and it seemed they’d run out of chit-chat for approximately the next week, the pale woman suddenly spoke up, a story about Luz’s first experience at her town’s flea market rolling off her lips with a sense of necessity, as if it came as a confession. It was a small thing, really, just the portions Eda could attest to about the preparations needed and the short order of events from the day. She told of packing and hauling junk, of the slew of sales made that day – and then the strange girl that had arrived at her stand, who’d made a ruckus at her bequest and their harrowing escape from the law.

She’d heard it all before, of course, from her own daughter’s throat as she regaled her mother with endless tales of alien vistas and hair-raising adventures. Camila couldn’t say she was pleased with the decisions made, on the spot, and how it had put her mija at risk because of a lackadaisical regard for the police. But it was – satisfying, in its own way, hearing the other side of the tale coming from another firsthand participant in the story.

Eda made no move to defend her own egregious attitude, simply allowing the account to lay where it fell, and let Camila draw her own conclusions. If anything, she simply seemed happy to speak of the young teen in question, to lay out their time together for the girl’s mother to – judge? Commiserate? Perhaps, acknowledge and accept?

The elder Noceda wasn’t fully certain, as was often the case when it came to Edalyn Clawthorne. But she could respect the fact that the woman was more than willing to own up to her mistakes, even if she didn’t appear all that remorseful for some of them. Then again – had they not met as they did, then who knew how long it might’ve taken Luz to return to the world of her birth once more?

All she knew was that she was thankful to be given such an offering by the pale witch, and she told her so, bookending their meeting for the day with a pleasant goodbye and something like anticipation for the next time they’d see each other once more – perhaps, even, with further tales of her displaced sweetheart to be told.

For the next week or thereabout, that was how Eda chose to repay her hospitality. She would put forth the times she’d shared with Luz, living amongst the seeming insanity that was the ‘Owl House’ and its population of miscreants. Honestly, even with knowledge of things that fell outside her understanding of the natural order, the stories the witch shared beggared disbelief at times. Demonic roommates and horrible bird worms burrowing into the walls of her house seemed so fantastical, not even magic could fully encapsulate such ideas. And yet there she sat, conversing with a stranger from beyond the veil of another world entirely, so perhaps the inclination towards skepticism was simply an issue of her own.

As the well of embellished retellings began to slowly run dry, Camila found herself contributing her own stories of Luz’s childhood in their unassuming little home, set amidst the temperate forests and urban sprawl of Connecticut’s expanse. She and her guest shared laughter at recollections of an adventurous young girl set loose upon the world, and ogled at embarrassing baby photos that the mother had managed to collect in the space between the disastrous absurdities of an untamed childhood.

She was not one to jealously horde her memories of the time spent with her beloved little girl, even if there had been much too great of a gap between them for her liking. It felt uplifting, in a way, to speak of happier times from so long ago, in exchange for secondhand tellings of the void that breached her relationship with Luz. However, Camila did not quite miss the way that Eda, herself, clung to such things; had she been any less than hyperaware of the woman’s presence in her home, the elder Noceda might’ve missed the way the pale witch gently but firmly prodded her for old stories and ancient snippets of her efforts to capture such things. It seemed – at least, by her estimation – that at times it was like looking into a mirror, seeing a woman estranged by those she cared for, and hoping at a glimpse into something she could not have on her own.

In some ways, it was both a disconcerting – and comforting – observation to make. But she did not begrudge Clawthorne for the love she held of her intelligent, willful daughter.

Eventually, as the weeks progressed and the stories waned, their conversation gave way to discussion of themselves, and their respective worlds. Shared memories of her waylaid offspring turned to recalling their own youthful misadventures, folding into the differences in childhood between humans and witches, melding into griping about parents and bills and everything that spanned the gap of such things.

Hence, Camila found herself sat before the strange woman that was rapidly becoming more friend than living mystery, weeks after Edalyn Clawthorne first reappeared on the streets of Gravesfield, as she opted to bitch about her overbearing mother and her eccentricities.

“I just don’t get it.” The complaint echoed across the tabletop, muffled by her cheek being mashed into the cool wooden surface, a deadened look of exasperation dominating her features. “Like, I’ll make a bad buy every once in a while. Happens to everybody. But how does a witch with two kids that took Potions at school, who joined the Beastkeeping Coven herself – all of which has to do with keeping things alive and kicking - fall for Titan-damned healing crystals of all things?”

Disguising her snort of amusem*nt as a muffled cough against her own mug, Camila took a sip to center herself, before putting forth one of the questions that always buzzed across the back of her mind when her visitor spoke of things she held no context for.