Epilogue

As the Spines family returned to the Mystery Shack, Ford returned a small crystal ball to his robe's inner pocket. "Fiddleford says that the memory extraction went perfectly and his abominations will have the 'pigeons' outside the town by morning."

"Yeah, great," Stan groused. "They attack the kids and all they get is a slap on the wrist."

"Not at all," Ford said with a nasty grin. "I suggested to Fiddleford that an escalation like this requires … a message."

"What message?" Dipper asked. Mabel was watching Ford with wide eyes, filled with curiosity and a hint of dread.

"A message to the Emperor that attacking children will not be tolerated," Ford said grimly, his smile gone. "Especially our niece and nephew." Ford sighed. "Fiddleford's memory-removal spell targeted not just their time in Talus Falls … but their memories of magic." He waited a moment for that to sink in. "Fiddleford removed their knowledge of any magic more advanced than a child's."

The rest of the Spines glanced at each other in shock. Removing a witch's memories of magic was … inconceivable. Not only would those three be removed from the Emperor's Coven, they would have to rebuild their skills almost from scratch.

"Damn, Sixer," Stan chuckled. "That's cold."

"And less than they deserve," Ford replied. "Wouldn't you agree, Stanley?"

"Abso-frickin'-lutely," Stan growled. "Now you two head up to bed. It's been a long day."

It was a testament to how tired the younger twins were that they offered only token resistance, even as they climbed the stairs toward the attic. "G'night Grinkle Stan, G'night Grunkle Ford," Mabel called from the floor above. Dipper could only grunt at them as they disappeared into the next room.

The elder twins shared a glance and a wry smile before they started toward their own rooms — only to be interrupted by a brisk knock at the door.

"Shack's closed!" Stan shouted. "Opens at nine in the morning!"

"But doesn't a good fisherman never let a fish escape the net?"

The Stans shared another glance, this one surprised. Stan unlocked the door and opened it up to reveal a demon with smooth grey skin and solid black eyes over no nose and a moustache of cephalopoid tentacles that reached his waist. He was dressed in a brown traveling cloak and fisherman's boots, clutching them in clear exhaustion and no small amount of fear.

"Stanford and Stanley Spines?" the demon asked. "A compass pointed me to these waters."

Stan waved the demon inside and closed the door before locking it tight. Stanford cast a spell circle around the demon's head that writhed a bit before fading away. 'He's clean," Ford confirmed.

"Oy, why do they keep sending newbies our way?" Stan asked, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Because the valley is protected," Ford replied, looking at their surprise guest. "And I assume another reason that they told you about."

The demon nodded and rolled up his sleeve with long, tentacle-like fingers to reveal a coven seal on his inner arm, the green cracked vase of the Plant Coven. Ford took the man's arm in a gentle grip and cast a small spell circle just above the skin, just large enough to surround the tattoo. Then he cast another circle around the first. And another, and another, and another until seven circles surrounded the image of the vase. Sparks flickered between the circles and lines of glowing, light green magic appeared on the demon's arm. The man hissed in pain as the lines slowly retracted toward the seal, the outermost golden circle taking on a greenish cast before crumbling into motes of power. Ford's spells kept feeding off of each other and crumbling from outside in as the lines of the seal kept retreating toward the tattoo. Finally, when only the first circle remained, the vase tattoo burst into green flames and curled into nothingness.

The squid demon gasped as the pain retreated, then gave a slower gasp as he felt something he thought he would never feel again: his magic was unrestricted.

"Thank you," he said, his lip-tentacles trembling with relief and gratitude.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Stan grunted. He cast a spell circle that summoned a crude abomination. "This thing'll take you to an ally who'll put you up for the night and help you get a job in town in the morning." He opened the door again. "'Night." With that, Stan took his leave.

"Get some rest," Ford instructed gently. "In this place, you're safe."

The demon nodded his thanks and followed the abomination out the door so that Ford could close and lock it for the final time that night. He moved to the kitchen to find Stan pouring a glass of apple blood, and then a splash of something brown. He flicked the cup across the table to Ford, who nodded gratefully and took a sip, savoring the faint burn down his throat.

"I know we haven't talked about it," Stan said, eyes hard, "but the kids need to know."

Ford nodded. "After today, I can't help but agree." He paused in thought. "But …"

"Yeah, they're not old enough to join up," Stan scoffed.

"And knowledge of the Order would put them in danger if anyone found out," Ford added. "We have no idea who could be a spy outside the valley, Stan. And if the Emperor ever found a confirmed member …"

"He'd bring us all down," Stan finished, chugging his own glass of spiked apple blood. "So what do we do?"

"For now we keep up as we have," Ford suggested. "Next year, the kids will be old enough to join. And then we can come completely clean."

Stan unconsciously reached to brush his fingers over the back of his shoulder, over the sigil that was branded there. He smiled just a bit at Ford twitching and fighting the urge to do the same to his mirrored brand.

"Still kinda hard to figure that a bunch of wild witches made their own coven," Stan chuckled.

"Not a coven," Ford said. "A team, a brotherhood. The Order of the Great Mackerel is support, not control." He pushed his glasses up to rub his eyes. "And if the trial of the Owl Lady is any indication, things are going to get a lot more mad soon." Another pause. "Do you think the kids'll be ready?" Ford asked, verbalizing what they both had been thinking.

"You kiddin' me, Ford?" Stan cackled. "They're Spines! And so are we." He grinned and took another swig. "We averted a friggin' apocalypse, Sixer." His grin turned to something smaller, but more genuine. "We'll be alright in the end."

Ford smiled as well and nodded before sipping his drink.

It was rare for Stanford and Stanley Spines to completely agree. But when they did … they were always right.

And that is why Ford is a threat to the Emperor: He can remove coven seals. This was a super fun story to write, and if I can think of another plot, I'd love to revisit this AU. Here's hoping OHs2 is full of inspiration!

*The "Order of the Mackerel" is based on a quick line from the defictionalized Journal 3. The public sigil is Stan's fish symbol, but the true symbol is the design of Stan's "tattoo". In case I don't publish another story set in this AU, the Order is a loose confederation of wild witches who adopted the support aspect of the coven system. The members are secretive and are branded with the mark of the Order that mimics coven seals and allows them to operate with fewer problems. ^Eda is not a member, either having never heard of it or refusing to join on principle.^ The Order takes in those who wish to rebel against the system personally but not overtly and is very secretive.

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed this story! May your inspiration flow freely!