Notes: I can't be the only one who thought of "A Night on Bald Mountain" when Vincent mentioned in episode 3 that Befuddle Manor was located there—Chernabog and all. So, this story happened. I gave Byron Befuddle the role of the one who sealed Chernabog away 400 years ago as he is the one who lives at the base of the mountain, plus, since his design in episode 3 is clearly based off of Peter Cushing, it's a nice call-back to Peter's role as Van Helsing in the Hammer Dracula series.
Additionally, this officially marks the end of the first "arc" of Daphne's magic training. I'll be adding to this oneshot collection as I get the inspiration for it, however, and the next installment of the Season 2 project will start in December!
"Home sweet home!" Shaggy exclaimed, as they arrived back in Florida. He then paused. "Hey, this isn't the castle…"
"Yes, I figured you would wish to celebrate Halloween with your friends, Fred and Velma," Vincent pointed out.
Daphne checked her phone.
"That's right—there's that Halloween party tonight, right after trick-or-treating."
"Rhoh boy!" Scooby exclaimed.
"It's perfect," Shaggy grinned. "We can take Flim-Flam and Scrappy trick-or-treating, and we can join Fred and Velma at the party right after!"
Daphne folded her arms, giving him a look.
"…And I'm supposed to assume that you and Scooby aren't going to be collecting candy for yourselves, too? Because I know that's exactly what's going to end up happening. You're just using Flim-Flam and Scrappy as an excuse."
Shaggy and Scooby exchanged glances and shrugged.
"Like, there's no point in denying it," he said.
"It's okay, Shaggy," Scrappy grinned. "Flim and I don't mind you and Uncle Scooby going with us!"
"Yeah, it'll be fun!" Flim-Flam mused.
"Rhand the best part is that rhall of the rhosts and monsters on Halloween are fake!" Scooby declared.
"…Who told you that?" Miranda asked, incredulously.
"It's just a fact!" Shaggy exclaimed. "Common knowledge!"
"Common knowledge isn't always accurate, Shaggy," Vincent warned.
"I told you your Halloween aligns with our Samhain," Miranda added. "Spirits are more active now more than ever."
"If anything, all of the mortals dressing up and decorating their land is the perfect camouflage," Vincent finished. He sighed as Shaggy and Scooby gulped. "But you don't need to worry—most spirits are benign. I know we run into a disproportionate number of malevolent ones, but we seek them out."
"Speaking of seeking them out… Vincent, there was another reason why I asked you to come back for Samhain," Miranda confessed. She gave him a sheepish look as he glanced at her, an eyebrow arched. "Do you know what year it is?"
"Of course—it's 2016. What does that have to do with…?" Vincent trailed off. "…Oh."
"Exactly," Miranda said. "Byron needs our help."
"Help with what?" Daphne asked. "What's this about?"
"Something that happened four hundred years ago, in 1616," Vincent said. "You remember when you encountered Morbidia after she had taken over Byron's mansion?"
"Like, how can we forget?" Shaggy sighed. "Facing Morbidia and her creeps in that creepy mansion at the foot of that creepy mountain…" He shuddered. "Why does Mr. Befuddle want to live there in the first place?"
"It wasn't entirely by choice," Miranda informed him. "But I can tell you that no matter what it was you saw of Morbidia and her minions… you still haven't seen the worst that Bald Mountain has to offer."
"There is an ancient and evil deity of darkness known as Chernabog who ruled the mountain for millennia," Vincent said. "In 1616, Miranda, myself, and the rest of our gang—plus my former mortal companion at the time—happened to be fleeing into the Ukraine when the High Inquisitor was after us—and we had made it to Kiev around Samhain. That's when we saw him, terrorizing the village at the foot of Bald Mountain. He was able draw spirits from the afterlife and force them to serve him, night after night. He would toy with both the living and the dead as though they were his playthings, with no regard for how they must have felt. And the villagers, having lived under his shadow all this time, were crying for relief."
"Even with our own problems, we couldn't abandon the villagers to their fate—to say nothing of the countless spirits that Chernabog was tormenting, too," Miranda added. "Byron, especially, seemed to sympathize the most out of all of us; he was the one who led our all-out magical offensive against Chernabog—the six of us against that evil deity, in the presence of Vincent's mortal companion to bear witness to it."
"It was a foolish thing to do," Vincent lamented. "As powerful as we were, we knew better than to think that we could defeat a god, so we went for the next best thing—to seal it away, within the mountain itself. The five of us did our best to hold Chernabog's attention as Byron invoked Lady Pallas's Sacred Seal by using one of her medallions. It didn't have any right to work, but it did. The villagers immortalized the battle on a tapestry, featuring us surrounding Chernabog, fighting him." He scowled. "The High Inquisitor claimed that the tapestry showed us worshipping Chernabog—so as to claim that us mages were demon-worshippers to gain support for his misplaced crusade."
"…So that's where that came from," Daphne sighed. How unfair, that an act of selfless heroism had been twisted into something that couldn't have been further from the truth!
"We had to run, of course, but poor Byron had drained his mana sealing Chernabog in the mountain; he didn't have the strength to continue on with the rest of us as we fled," Miranda recalled. "Byron insisted that we go without him. Of course, we refused at first—until the grateful villagers promised that, as thanks, they would look after Byron and hide him from the Inquisitor and his men if need be. They were true to their word, and even after Byron recovered, they begged him not to go."
"So he conjured up Befuddle Manor and continued to live at the base of Bald Mountain," Vincent added. "The maze inside made it impossible for the High Inquisitor and his men to ever find him, in spite of however many times they came back to look for him. It turns out that it was a lucky thing that he stayed—after every 100 years, on Samhain, the Sacred Seal that holds Chernabog in the mountain needs to be re-strengthened. It doesn't take as much mana to re-strengthen the seal as it does to create a new one, so Byron's been able to do it on his own. Which begs the question, what's different about this year that has Byron asking for our help to re-strengthen it?"
"…Asmodeus," Miranda admitted, hating to be the bearer of bad news. "He apparently held Chernabog in high regard—"
"Of course he would," Vincent muttered. "His demon form even resembles Chernabog somewhat—and I doubt it's a coincidence."
"—Vincent, Asmodeus has been trying to weaken the seal even more," Miranda said. "Ordinarily, Byron would be able to keep it shut himself, but with Asmodeus's sabotage, he needs help—our help! Once night falls on Bald Mountain, Byron won't be able to hold Chernabog alone through the entire night!"
"Well, there's plenty of time," Shaggy said. "It's only noon."
"Kiev is seven hours ahead, Shaggy—the sun is setting there even as we speak!" Daphne reminded him.
"The others are already there," Miranda said. "Maybe we can do this without you—"
"No; Asmodeus is my responsibility, and I will not let my old friends face him without me," Vincent insisted. He turned to the others. "I do hope there won't be any complaints about my going this time? I won't be alone this time." He sighed. "I'll cast protection spells on all of you, just to be sure that nothing from beyond troubles you, and you can go about your Halloween the way you normally would. I believe dawn will break in Kiev just before that party of yours starts here—I'll join you there."
The others didn't say anything; they did want to be with Vincent—but they also knew that facing an ancient, evil god was way, way out of their league.
"Very well, then. I'll just—"
"Mr. Van Ghoul?" Daphne asked, her voice timid.
Vincent sighed, already knowing what her request would be.
"Yes, Daphne?"
"Please… Take me with you."
Vincent shut his eyes, struggling with the decision.
"Daphne, you are a highly talented witch who has learned more in these past few weeks than most mages learn their entire four years at Terror Tech," he said. "But if six experienced mages of the Advanced Class had been unable to seal Chernabog away without divine intervention, how could I, in good conscience, allow you—my daughter-by-choice—to face an evil god of darkness?"
"Well, I thought the whole point was to keep him sealed so that no one had to face him," Daphne pointed out. "And with Asmodeus having a hand in this, any extra mana helping to keep the seal intact is useful."
"…She does have a point, Vincent," Miranda sighed. "In this case, I would have sided with you, otherwise."
Vincent looked away for a moment before turning back to Daphne.
"You may come with us," he decided, at last. "However, if the worst should happen and Chernabog breaks free, I will be sending you back here, and nothing you can say or do will change my stance on that matter. I've seen Chernabog do terrible things to his own demonic brethren; I will not let him get his hands on a mortal—especially you."
"I second that," Miranda said. "This is not the same thing as breaking up a satyr love potion ring—get that through your head immediately."
"I… yes," she said, surprised at Miranda's stern tone. It was the same kind of parental worry that filled Vincent's voice.
Satisfied, Vincent cast the protection spells on the others.
"Shaggy, Scooby—look after Flim-Flam and Scrappy," he instructed.
"Rhe will," Scooby promised, looking nervous and worried for them.
"Yeah," Shaggy sighed. "…Good luck."
Vincent, Miranda, and Daphne nodded as Vincent teleported them out.
An instant later, they were with the others—Voudini, Byron (and his Shadow Demon), Boris, and Alisa (who was meeting Daphne for the first time in person, as well.
"I wish I could give you a proper greeting, but there just isn't time," she said. "We've got work to do."
"I understand," Daphne assured her.
Asmodeus, who had been trying to weaken the seal with Bogel and Weerd by his side, now retreated in a fury as Vincent and Daphne arriving, assuming on of them to have the Chest of Demons.
That left the mountain—and the seal that was crackling with weakened energy as Chernabog continued to try to break out.
"Byron, now!" Vincent ordered. "There isn't time!"
Byron nodded, raising a medallion with Athena's crest in his right hand.
"By the grace of Lady Pallas Athena, most beloved daughter of Zeus, King of Olympus, I invoke the Lady's light!"
"I invoke the Lady's light!" the other five mages echoed raising their hands.
"I invoke the Lady's light!" Daphne also called, raising her staff.
Light poured from the medallion, surrounding Byron first, and then flowing around the rest of them. Seven points of light—one from the medallion, five from the other mages' hands, and one from Daphne's staff—now struck the mountain.
"Re-strengthen the Sacred Seal!" Byron called.
"Re-strengthen the Sacred Seal!" the others repeated.
A fierce, angry roaring emitted from the interior of the mountain.
"What now…?" Daphne asked, as the mountain shook and quivered.
"Now? We hold this until dawn and hope Chernabog doesn't break through it," Vincent said. "Continue maintaining your focus, Daphne—it's going to be a long night. And steel yourself for the Witching Hour. Chernabog's power will crest then."
She'd expected as much—that there wouldn't be much of anything besides this. But, still, she was helping—and she would continue to do so.
She didn't know what time it was as they all stood there, holding the Seal in place—she was so focused on her work that she wasn't keeping track of the time aside from the clock tower bells in the village.
And, once it struck Midnight—the Witching Hour—something happened.
The Seal tensed, ever so slightly, and then, it suddenly stretched and caused a small crack, revealing a dark pit within the heart of Bald Mountain—and a giant, glowing eye, seething with rage, glared at them, sending shivers down Daphne's spine. This was far, far more terrifying than the angry satyrs—she could feel the pure evil emanating from its gaze.
And then, shadows and darkness poured from the crack, flowing down the mountain like a sick and twisted waterfall—and everywhere it touched, ghosts and monsters rose up from the ground.
"He's trying to weaken our light!" Vincent yelled.
"Maybe… maybe I should send the Shadow Demon in there—maybe he can fight from within…" Bryon said, sweat pouring from his brow with his efforts.
"I think not—" Voudini frowned, but he was cut off by a gasp from Daphne.
"That's exactly what he wants!" she realized. "He knows about the Shadow Demon—Asmodeus probably told him! If you send him in there, Chernabog will control him; that's his power—shadows and darkness. That's why he'll stop fighting at dawn!"
"But the Goddess's light isn't enough!" Boris retorted. "We must think of something more—or else!"
"What about our light—we have light, too!" Daphne said. "Why can't we add it to Athena's light?" She shuddered as a wailing ghost flew just over her head. "We have to try before he gets too powerful and breaks the Seal entirely!"
"She's right—prepare to multi-cast!" Vincent said. He focused even more. "One… two… three!"
"DIAGA!" they all yelled.
The light intensified, combining with Athena's light. Daphne's heart gave a thrill as the shadows dissipated, the ghosts were freed, and the monsters vanished—and she saw the giant, glowing eye wince in pain, unable to stand the light. The tear closed up, and the Seal remained in place, strengthened even more than they'd anticipated.
Mercifully, it held the rest of the night, and as dawn arrived and the freed ghosts returned to the afterlife, Daphne and the mages relaxed. Byron was a bit more worn-out than the others, but he was otherwise alright.
"That was some quick thinking," Miranda complimented. "What gave you that idea, Daphne?"
"Everything that's happened these past few weeks," she admitted. "It got me thinking… I know I'm not as strong as you all, since you're mages and I'm just a mortal. But I'm still able to do things that adds to your power, and I can help in that way. And that got me thinking… you all aren't as strong as Athena, since she's a goddess, and you're just mages… but, maybe, like me, you're still able to do things that add to her power and help in that way." She grinned. "And it worked!"
"My heiress, Ladies and Gentlemen," Vincent declared, proudly, causing Daphne to practically gush with pride.
"Yes, I do believe Miss Blake has earned her place at our table for our Samhain festivities," Voudini agreed. "The change I've seen since I saw her last is nothing short of phenomenal."
"I'm afraid we must decline the Samhain festivities," Vincent lamented.
"Again?" Alisa sighed. "We thought that you would join us this year, given… everything."
"And I would, except I promised the rest of my little family that I would be present at their Halloween party."
Byron sighed, still trying to catch his breath.
"Next year perhaps?"
"Perhaps," Vincent returned.
"In the meantime, you're all invited to the Halloween party," Daphne offered. "We'll have to keep your identities secret from most of the guests, but I'm sure Fred and Velma would like to meet you all." She looked away, a little embarrassed. "I don't know… I realize it's super-short notice, but I thought it would be nice to have both of our gangs together…"
She looked to Vincent, who gave a nod of understanding.
"Oh, why not?" Miranda mused. "I'd like to see how the mortals celebrate the night, wouldn't you?"
"It would be an interesting study—and no doubt amusing," Alisa said. "You've got nothing else to do, right, Boris?"
"Well, I was going to submit this footage—"
"Right, Boris?"
"…Right. …Or else."
"Exactly," she smirked. "We're in."
"I, too, would be honored to attend," Voudini said, with a polite bow.
Daphne returned his bow with a curtsy.
"I'll have to take it easy—and will need some help getting there," Byron said. "But I think I could use something like this to relax after what just happened."
"Looks like the gang is all here," Vincent mused. "Very well, Daphne, that makes you the hostess for this evening."
"I'll do my best," she grinned.
It had been a long and harrowing night, and yet, she was eager for what was promising to be the most interesting Halloween party she'd be attending in a long time.