Chapter Six

"You want me to represent the Illusion Coven?" Emira asked.

"Indeed I do, Ms. Blight," Head Witch Caroll said, taking a sip of tea. They were seated in one of Blight Manor's tea rooms. Luckily for the twins, their parents were out of the house on business, so they — "they" meaning Odalia — were not here to try and force the issue or suck up to the head witch that had dropped by the manor with no warning. Like a true illusionist. And neither Edric nor Emira were foolish enough to turn away the head of their own track's coven without hearing him out, hence the tea and the tea room. "You were highly recommended by a young Master Porter."

"Gus recommended me?" Emira chuckled. "He probably thinks it's some kind of gag. Trust me, I'm not the girl you want."

"Augustus claimed you were skilled in your track," he said lightly.

"Of course," Emira said without a trace of humility, "but it takes more than magic to run a coven."

"He claimed you were smart, as well as clever."

"I'm not an idiot."

"That you have experience guiding others." That one drew Emira up short.

"Okay," she admitted, "I don't know where he got that." Edric chose that exact moment to stick his head into the sitting room.

"Hey Em, do you know where my glasses are?" Few realized that Edric needed to wear glasses, as he used an illusion spell to hide them when outside the manor. Said glasses were raised to settle on his forehead.

"Tap your forehead," Emira said blankly. Ed did and his expression brightened. He thanked her and waved to Caroll as if he were some witch crossing the street and not the head of a main coven before ducking out of the room as quickly as he'd come. Emira looked back to the coven head, who had leveled a flat, amused look at her. "Okay, fine. I know how to work people," she admitted. "But my goofball brother isn't exactly the same as an entire major coven."

"True," Ludwig admitted, "but it's certainly a start." He smiled. "You know, when I was in school all I did was cause trouble. I pulled pranks and tricks the likes of which even you wouldn't believe, and I never considered my future too deeply." He swirled the tea in his teacup in thought. "Until I saw a dear friend, another illusionist, get beaten to death for the snails in his wallet." His grip on the cup tightened until the glass creaked. "They targeted my best friend because he was an illusionist, whom they thought couldn't fight them." He relaxed his grip and gently placed the teacup back on the table.

"So you wanted to make a difference," Emira surmised.

"I decided that I was tired of wandering through life with no purpose," Caroll said.

"Who says I have no purpose?" Emira asked pointedly.

"And that would be?" Ludwig asked lightly. "I mean, besides your hobby of jokes and avoiding the pressures of your parents. Have you considered what you would do with your life beyond school?"

Emira was silent as she thought over his words. In point of fact, she had thought about it. The difficult thing was that she wasn't sure what she wanted to do. Up to this point, her secret goal had been to protect Ed and Mittens from their mother's influence. Which, admittedly, she had failed miserably at.

And despite appearances, Amity wasn't the only Blight child with high expectations foisted upon them. As the eldest of the Blight children — beating out Edric by a whole three minutes — it was expected that she would take up the business side of Blight Industries when she came of age. She would essentially act as her mother did, using charisma and savvy to build the company while Amity or a … prospective spouse in the Abomination Coven would support Alador in the research and development side.

But this, what Ludwig Caroll offered … was something more than running a business she didn't care about. And it would be her choice.

Emira put down her own cup of tea and smiled wickedly. "You know what? I'm in." She held out her hand to shake, and Ludwig shook.

"Wonderful, Emira," he said, rising as well. "I'll consider your schedule later. For now, enjoy the rest of the week as time off before you begin your new duties." He nodded before his smile fell and he looked at the door. "Uh oh. Your dear parents are home." He held a finger against his lips. "Be a dear and intercept your brother before he rats me out. After all, I was never here." He smiled and winked before he dispersed into glittering smoke.

"An illusion," Emira said. "Okay, that's really impressive."

Willow collapsed onto her front on her bed as soon as she got home, Clover plopping off her shoulder to buzz with the same tiredness. Today, Feronia had examined her ability to mass-produce plants while leaving none stunted or misshapen — a rare and sought-after skill called furnishment, used by farmhands in the Plant Coven to grow huge numbers of crops. It seemed that her mentor was determined to have her hone and master even the most specialized and obscure of plant magics.

She had also, mercifully, permitted Clover to work with her. Though Willow was beyond nervous about bringing her palisman into the castle on the infrequent occasions she accompanied Feronia, with Clover never once leaving her inert form within its walls, the Plant head was seemingly fine with and even encouraged Willow's bond with the bee.

Another factor had apparently been publicity. Many members of the Plant Coven had seen her learning to furnish plants, and in-between the tremendous spells, she'd heard whispers of awe and encouragement. At another time, she would have been shyly flattered by it; right now, though, it just made her more tired.

At least she'd been promised a day off tomorrow to recuperate.

Willow groaned and turned over onto her back, and felt something crackle under her hair. She sat up with a whimper of sore muscles and a throbbing bile sac and looked over her shoulder to find a golden-sheened envelope on her bed, signed To My Dearest Willow in lovely cursive. Willow picked up the envelope and delicately tore it open to remove crisp parchment covered in the same cursive. My Dearest Willow …

Willow slowly read over the letter, her eyes gradually widening behind her glasses. It was certainly from Hunter. He wrote about how he felt when separated from her — Like a piece of me is lost ... What he admired about her — Even with all of your beauty, there is so much more! Your mind, your wit, your will and determination. But more than anything … you're the kindest soul I've ever met. Kind enough to accept a fool like me into your heart ... And what we wanted to pursue with her — I don't know what the future holds, but I couldn't hope to see it without you.

With all the love in a broken heart … your Hunter.

A few tears had dripped onto the paper as she read, thankfully missing the calligraphy. Willow sniffled and lifted her glasses to brush her eyes, her heart swelling. She choked back a sob of joy, of longing, and of love. Then she gently folded the paper and placed it on her pillow before searching her desk for some florist tape that she used to tape it to the wall above her bed.

When she was done, Willow held her face in her hands and just basked in the love that seemed to pour from the parchment. She only looked away at a knock on her bedroom door that heralded her papa coming in. "Willow? Did you find the letter I left on your bed?" Eun asked. Willow turned with faint tear streaks down her cheeks and a watery smile.

"Yes, Papa," she sighed. "I found it."

"Why can't I find you?"

Angmar sat in the basement of his mother's home, staring at a cork board covered in images of the Silver Belle. The centerpiece was one of the Plant Coven's recruitment posters, depicting the Silver Belle from the side, her head turned to face the audience as she sat with her legs elegantly crossed, perched on a brick wall covered in vines. Others were images he'd gotten off of the crystal ball network at the Latissa library that depicted her growing flowers for the sick or crops for the hungry. And on the fringes were charcoal sketches he'd made himself of her in more … coy poses.

Angmar looked away from the cork board and flipped through a list of Plant track students from Glandus. All of the boys' names were scratched out in blue ink, the first thing he'd done — there was no way the Silver Belle was a boy! Then he'd been slowly crossing out names of the girls in his track. Red ink indicated lack of power or skill, and he'd been very careful to watch for that. Green ink indicated … physical differences. While Angmar had only seen the Silver Belle in person once, and from a distance, he knew she was shorter than average. And her various posters and her … clinging dress hinted at a full figure, which cut out thin girls.

In the end, every single name on this list had been crossed out. Which meant the girl of his dreams wasn't attending Glandus.

"Why does it have to be so hard?" he asked aloud. "Unless …" He blinked and followed a sudden line of thought. It was supposed to be hard … because it was a test of his resolve! This was a way to prove to the Titan that Angmar deserved to stand beside the Silver Belle!

He tossed away the Glandus roster and began sorting through what he would need to secure rosters from other schools like St. Epiderm or, ugh, Hexside. The thought of his school's rival brought to mind that girl who had been with Gus and the human all those weeks ago, the one with glasses. His eye twitched as he recalled how she had fought, with vicious power that wouldn't have been outside the norm at Glandus. A flare of admiration was strangled by the memory of jeers and sneers from students who had heard about it. He, Gavin, and Bria had been mocked for weeks after that and their position in the school's hierarchy had been hampered even more than before the galderstones.

Angmar's thoughts were interrupted by the door to the basement opening. "Angy," his mother called sweetly, "Gavin's here to talk to you! I'll bring down some punch in a minute!"

"Uh, thanks Mom," he called back uncertainly, dragging a curtain over his cork board.

A cacophony of steps heralded Gavin's descent down the stairs, and he emerged looking tenser than Angmar had ever seen him. "Hey, man," he greeted through grit teeth, "can you spare a minute? I gotta let off some steam."

Angmar blinked and shrugged. "Sure."

Fifteen minutes later and both boys were leaning over with their hands on their knees, breathing heavily and sweating with stumps, shattered wood, and splatters of Abomination clay littering a small nearby park. Angmar stumbled to the side and braced himself against a tree, not one of his, as he caught his breath. "So, what's the problem?" he asked.

"My dad," Gavin snarled, kicking a rock in his anger. "He took on an apprentice!"

"Uh, okay?" Angmar said. "I mean, he is the leader of a major coven."

To be more specific, Gavin was the son of Darius Pilos, the head witch of the Abomination Coven. Gavin didn't spread that little piece of gossip, knowing that it would make him a target for the cutthroat high-ups in Glandus High's student body. Well, more than he already was as a moderately-talented member of the Abomination track who had been humiliated by two recent events: the Looking-Glass Ruins mission and the defeat by the Hexside kids.

Angmar and Bria were two of the few who knew the truth; even Mattholomule didn't know. And as such, they were the only ones aware of Gavin's troubles at home. Darius was a prideful and self-centered man, and rarely took time to be any kind of father to Gavin. He rationalized it to the boy as "needing to put the coven first" or "being so blasted busy keeping the Isles afloat," but the result was the same: Darius was never around.

Granted, Gavin didn't exactly go hungry. Darius owned a large home in the well-off portion of Latissa where Gavin lived, provided food and clothes, and paid for his son's tuition at Glandus. But he still left Gavin with that hole in his heart where his dad's love should have been.

That had been Gavin's motivation to found the galderstones, after all. To do something his father couldn't ignore.

"He took on a teen apprentice, Angmar!" Gavin snarled, his fists clenching as he summoned more Abomination clay and molded it into a huge spiked ball that rolled and tore up the ground around them.

"…Oh," Angmar said. "Okay, yeah. I can see why that would sting."

"And y'know what's the best part?" Gavin chuckled humorlessly. He bared his teeth in what could only generously be called a smile. "She's from Hexside."

Angmar actually winced at that. "Oh boy." He scratched the back of his neck, seriously unsure of what to say. "What, uh, what're you gonna do?"

Gavin's scowl deepened even further, if it were possible. "I don't know," he admitted, his posture sinking. Only to tense back up with a growl of rage. "But it's not going to be pretty."

Eun hummed to himself as he prepared for his workday. As a member of the Potions Coven, he'd held a long-term position as an alchemist at a moderately-sized apothecary — a business subsidized by the Potions and Healing Covens that produced the various medicines supplied to stores and stands across the Boiling Isles. As he gathered his coin purse and keys to the apartment, someone knocked at the door. He blinked in surprise at the hour and cautiously approached the door, very much aware that anything could be waiting on the other side.

Eun looked through the peephole and found a tall, lean figure shrouded in a hooded cloak. Tracing a spell to summon fire, the weapon of choice for potion witches, Eun unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door to the length of the security chain. "Can I help you?" he asked warily.

"Eun Park, isn't it?" the figure asked, the voice feminine.

"It is," Eun replied. The figure glanced around before dropping the hood of her cloak to reveal … What? "Madame Lilith?" Eun asked in shock.

Lilith chuckled humorlessly. "No one calls me 'Madame' anymore, Mr. Park," she said. "Just Lilith, when they don't say 'traitor'." She partly lifted her hood again, hiding her silhouette from any prying eyes. "May I please come in? I, ehm … I need to speak to your daughter."

Eun tensed his jaw as he considered the request and everything he knew about Lilith. Everyone had known of the leader of the Emperor's Coven, and he and Gilbert had been just as shocked as anyone when she was tossed into a cage to be petrified along with the Owl Lady that Willow had spoken so highly of for weeks. You know, for the few seconds before they had been beside themselves with worry at Willow spurring a defiant crowd. He knew that Lilith had been living with Eda and Luz for some time before returning to her childhood home.

But what could she want with Willow?

He came to a decision and shut the door … before unlocking the chain and opening it again. "Come in," he sighed. Lilith nodded her thanks and did just that, removing her cloak and hanging it on a coat rack to reveal a patched dress under an ash-gray, off-the-shoulder tee with some strange, presumably-human symbol on the chest.

"Make yourself at home, I suppose," Eun said. "My husband will be up soon to get ready for work, too." His gaze turned flinty. "But please do not wake up Willow. She's … gotten a new job and it's been hard on her."

"A 'new job,' you say?" Lilith said, a faint smile in her tone. "As the shadow of Lady Feronia?" She snorted at Eun's surprised look. "My sister has kept me up to date, and even if she hadn't, her dear house demon would have." She smiled fondly. "And has, at great length." Her smile faded. "I only wish to offer some advice in her new role."

Eun narrowed his eyes and adjusted his glasses. "I suppose you would know a thing or two from your prior occupation."

"Indeed," she said flatly. "Rest assured, Mr. Park, I am a guest in your home and will act with all the propriety I can bring forth. Your apartment will still be standing when you return."

Eun sighed through his nose and gave a curt nod before scribbling something on a notepad and handing it to her. "For my husband, Gilbert, when he wakes up." With that, he gave her one last tense look before taking his leave, summoning their staff capped with their she-bear palisman, Needa, and flying to work across the city.

Lilith glanced around before settling upon a loveseat with a groan of relief. She summoned her staff to allow her white raven palisman, Branwen, to detach from the interlock and hop onto her lap with a soft croak, almost a purr. Lilith chuckled and fondly stroked her wooden plumage. Branwen croaked again and playfully nibbled Lilith's fingertip before ruffling herself and spinning in place to nestle upon her partner's skirt.

Lilith continued to absently pet Branwen as her thoughts turned to where they often turned these days: her time in the Emperor's Coven. In this instance, more specifically to Belos's … treatment of palismen. She shuddered at the numerous memories of him consuming palismen to fight his curse, from cracking them open like eggs to drain liquid magic through his eyes, to snapping them from staves to breath in their power and leave them rotting to ash.

She was torn from her thoughts by a surprised yelp from the apartment hallway, glancing up to find a heavyset, dark-skinned man — Eun's husband and Willow's other father. "Lilith Clawthorne?" he asked in shock. "What-?" Lilith held out Eun's note to him between her fingers with a blank look. He took it and read it, his brow creasing with worry before he sighed and tucked the note into the pocket of his apron. "Alright, fine," he said. "But please don't wake Willow up. She's exhausted."

"I'll do my best to let her sleep," Lilith promised. Gilbert gave her a wary side-eye before shaking his head and taking his leave as well, his workplace within walking distance.

Lilith passed the time as the sun crested the cityscape and slowly rose either tracing glyphs, writing notes on possible combinations, or quietly playing with Branwen. She was tempted to test some new combinations, but decided it would be too hazardous in someone else's home.

After quite some time, Lilith glanced up from her notepad at the sound of heavy footfalls in the hallway. Willow emerged from the shadow of the hall, her glasses pushed up on her forehead as she rubbed at her eye with her knuckles. Lilith winced at how tired she looked even after just waking up. A palisman modeled on a bee rode on her shoulder, no doubt the "Clover" that she had bonded with from Eda's rather creative idea of palisman adoption.

Clover was the first to notice their presence and buzzed loudly before flitting from Willow's shoulder to dart at them. Branwen let out a croak of challenge and clashed with Clover, driving them both to the coffee table before her eyes glowed with white-gold light, Clover's mirroring the glow as they communicated in the way of palismen.

Willow, though, was faster on the draw than she appeared. As soon as Clover had left her shoulder, she'd cast a spell circle that had one of the potted plants that dotted the room — a Kraken shrub — swelling and striking out at Lilith with a cry of shock. In response, Lilith calmly stood and crushed a plant glyph in her hand that summoned a rush of vines from her palm to counter the spell.

"Ms. Park, it's me," she said, her voice level, but carrying.

"Lilith?" Willow asked, flicking her glasses back into place and blinking as she distantly commanded her plant to retract and return to its pot. "Wha-? What are you doing here?"

"I came to speak with you," Lilith said, and her eyes became more remote as her summoned vines shriveled into husks, "about your new boyfriend."

Willow tensed and glanced at Clover and Branwen, who had separated and were watching their partners with keen interest. "I know that you don't like Hunter," she said crisply.

Lilith's expression turned stony. "He's a brat, Ms. Park," she said carefully. "And fanatically devoted to Belos. Keeping ties with him is beyond dangerous." She lifted an eyebrow and gestured at Willow's arm. "Just look at where it has left you."

Willow looked down and at the coven brand on the inside of her wrist, the green symbol — one that could be seen as a flower, a vase, or a closed man-eating plant — contrasting with her faintly-tanned skin. "This was my choice," Willow said.

"One that was made for the Golden Guard," Lilith said back.

"It was my idea," Willow argued.

"As far as you know."

Willow blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"How certain are you," Lilith continued with her hands behind her back in a stately pose, "that the Golden Guard and Lady Feronia did not arrange matters to end up binding you to a coven?" She took a few steps to her side, Willow tracking the motions. "How sure are you that he hasn't been lying to you from the start?"

"He did," Willow admitted, but her gaze was as far from contrite as could be. "Luz and Eda did, too, to see what Hunter would do. And then I found out about him from a coven captain, of all things, trying to get in touch with him. The fear in his eyes was real when it happened."

"It's a ruse, Ms. Park," Lilith said coldly. "Another mask." She took a breath and tried to appear honest. "You can't trust him."

"Eda and Luz trusted you," Willow pointed out, folding her arms as Clover flew to perch on her shoulder and buzz in support. "Despite everything you've done, they took you in and trusted you."

"That's different," Lilith snapped quietly. "Edalyn is my sister."

"Whom you cursed," Willow added. "And then you lied about it for thirty years." She scoffed. "Compared to that, a month of hiding his identity really isn't that bad."

Before the petrification ceremony, Lilith was certain that she would have lashed out. But her time at the Owl House, reconciling with her sister, and her friendship with Hooty — not to mention her reunion with her parents — had done much to soothe her temper. Even so, Willow's words stung and she had to make an effort to keep herself calm. "Ms. Park, please see reason. I just want to help."

"I believe you," Willow said, her gaze softening behind her glasses even as it stayed resolute. "But you don't know Hunter as well as you think you do. You know the mask, the cocky right hand to the Emperor." Her cheeks pinked and she smiled, her folded arms loosening. "You don't know that he has the soul of a scholar, how his eyes brighten when he gets passionate about something … that he studies wild magic."

Lilith's eyes widened and she took a step back. "You're not serious."

"I'm very serious," Willow said. "And did you know that he has a palisman of his own? One of the Bat Queen's protectorates that bonded with him on an adventure with Luz. He's kept and protected Lil Rascal for months."

"How do you know this?" Lilith asked.

"I've seen them together," Willow said. "Frequently." She chuckled and lifted her shoulder that Clover perched on. "And if you don't believe me, just ask Clover. Or your palisman." She blinked and looked at the white raven. "I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced."

"Her name is Branwen," Lilith supplied.

Branwen croaked and flapped to Lilith's shoulder, her eyes glowing again. Clover's did, too, and they were silent for several long moments. Then the glows faded and Branwen croaked to Lilith. "It can't be," Lilith whispered, clutching her head as her world seemed to teeter.

"You've changed, Lilith," Willow said with a sad smile. "Other people can do that, too." Then her smile faded as a thought crossed her mind. "Why did you come here to warn me about him?"

Lilith sat again and steepled her fingers, her head lowered. "Because of what I did to you and Augustus," she said, "the day of the field trip." The day she dueled and captured Eda and sent Luz back to the Owl House. "I have much to answer for, Ms. Park, and I thought … that helping you would be the start of penance."

Willow approached and sat beside her, eyes fixed on Lilith's even as the older woman refused to meet them. "I'm not gonna say it's a fond memory," Willow admitted, "but … I know you could have done way worse." She smiled faintly. "It's in the past, Lilith."

Lilith finally met Willow's eyes and huffed a laugh. "I don't deserve forgiveness," she said.

"I know a few people who would disagree."

Lilith finally twitched a smile, her eyes misty. "Are you certain about your 'Hunter,' Ms. Park?"

"Without question," Willow said firmly.

Lilith brushed the backs of her fingers over her chin in thought. "I suppose you would know better than I," she admitted, though the words sounded bitter. She nodded resolutely. "I'll leave your relationship to you, then." She chuckled. "I suppose Edalyn was right." She blanched. "As hard as that is to admit."

Willow laughed at that, and Clover began dancing with glee while Branwen croaked to urge her on. Lilith smiled and looked at Willow, blinking as she looked closely at the witchling's glasses. "Ms. Park, may I ask you something of a random question?"

"Just call me 'Willow,' Lilith," she said. "And, sure. What's the question?"

"Do you happen to visit a Dr. Armina as your oculist?"

Willow blinked and thought to the kindly, ancient cyclops who fashioned her glasses. "Um, yeah. Why?"

Lilith laughed. "I can't believe the good doctor is still alive." Lilith fished a photo from her skirt pocket and showed it to Willow, a picture of a Hexside-aged Lilith, Eda throwing her arms over her two companions' shoulders to draw them close, and another familiar figure in a Bard track uniform and with a single earring dangling from one ear. "Armina was my oculist as a girl, as well as for Raine Whispers." Lilith gestured to Willow's round glasses that almost perfectly matched the young Lilith's and Raine's. "I can tell by the style; it seems that she never did change."

Willow laughed as she looked at the photo, glancing between the young Lilith with her fluffy, red hair and the present woman's straight, ebony locks. Willow lifted an eyebrow at the sight of the faintest red roots growing in.

Then she looked back at the photo and her smile dropped at the sight of Raine Whispers mid-laugh and blushing like mad. Clearly they'd been attracted to Eda even back then.

"Lilith … can I ask you a question, too?" Willow asked solemnly. Lilith tilted her head at the girl's somber tone, but nodded. "Have you ever … bound someone with a coven seal?"

Lilith blinked. "I'm sorry, what?" she asked, and genuine confusion rang in her words. "Bound them how?"

And so Willow told her about the fate of Raine Whispers.

Chapter six is here!

*The tidbit of Caroll's backstory came to me after rewatching "Through the Looking-Glass Ruins," and considering how illusionists are looked down upon; and yet they are a major coven.

*I struggled for literal hours trying to figure out Hunter's letter. I almost wrote a full letter, but decided it would slow the piece a bit too much. So I took what I felt were the highlights and pieced them together. I can only hope it came out well.

*Gavin being Darius's son is my own headcanon. I think they look similar enough to be related - dark skin, green eyes, full lips - and Darius's general demeanor of a snide jerk plays perfectly into Gavin's daddy issues. not to mention the idea that he joined the Abomination track to try and emulate and/or impress his distant dad. And yes, this will be a recurring plot element.

*Pilos, the surname I gave to Darius and Gavin, is Greek for "clay." Many writers use the term "goop" for the matter of Abominations based on Willow's term in "Teenage Abomination," but I think my choice is unique. I also throw in the terms muck and sludge every now and then, hehehe.

*The idea that fire is the weapon of choice for potion witches comes from evidence in canon. Our three major potion witches - Eda, Lilith, and Boscha - all use fire as their go-to combat spell.

*The name I have given Lilith's palisman, Branwen, is a girl's name of Celtic origin that translates literally to "white raven" - on the nose, I know - and figuratively to "blessed raven." I likr to think that Lilith would consider it a noble name. As for canon, I really hope we get more information on Lilith's palisman. I mean, we know more about Hawksley - Gwen's hawk palisman - than Lilith's We haven't even seen the raven out of statuette form!

*The interpretations of the Plant Coven symbol are my own observations.

*The idea of Willow, child!Lilith, and Raine going to the same oculist (a very old-fashioned term for lens maker that I thought was perfect for the Boiling Isles term for "optometrist") hit me like a truck when I realized they all have similar round glasses. I thought it was too good to pass up. Dr. Armina - the cyclops doctor - is named for the Arimnaspi, a tribe of one-eyed peoples living in the far-northern "Riphean mountains" in classical mythology. The idea that she is a cyclops just makes ironic sense for someone who makes glasses.

As always, this was a blast to write and I hope beyond hope that it was enjoyable to read. Leave a review if you liked it; support is what keeps the flames of inspiration stoked! And may those flames in your hearts and minds burn bright!