Chapter Nineteen

One thing that few knew about Gus Porter was that he was a snorer.

At the moment, as the sun slowly rose into the sky its beams illuminated him sleeping at his desk with his cheek smushed into a book on Oracle magic. Other books on the art, as well as various books from the human realm that Gus had acquired from Eda, lay haphazardly stacked alongside several blank books loaded with notes.

Shimmer faded into visibility, clinging to Gus's bedpost that was her preferred sleeping spot. Unlike the chameleons from the human realm that her shape was based upon, Shimmer could and did move very quickly when she felt the need. As such, she dropped from her partner's bedpost and scurried to his desk with adorable peeps. She brushed open a calendar book and noted that Gus had an appointment, then slapped him lightly to wake him.

He snored on, not even stirring.

Shimmer grumbled and tried a few more times before sighing and scurrying up onto his shoulder and wrapping her tail around it for grip. Her eyes focusing to judge her target, she let her jaw swing down before her tongue lashed out … and into Gus's ear.

"Gah!" Gus bolted awake rising so quickly he almost dislodged Shimmer, who peeped in protest.

"Whoa. Sorry girl," Gus said, twisting his finger in his ear. "But you know I hate that."

'If you would get more sleep on weekends, I wouldn't need to,' Shimmer replied.

"It can't be that bad," Gus waved off as he checked his watch. "It's only- Oh thorns! I'm late!"

Gus gathered several books into his satchel and slung it over his shoulder. He paused to sniff his jerkin and shrugged before looking at Shimmer. The palisman peeped and grew into her staff for Gus to take. He raced out the door, leaving a note for his dad, and took to the skies headed for the marketplace.

It took a few minutes, but soon Gus was stepping off his staff to find Barcus and Hugo waiting for him.

"Heya, Gus!" Hugo called. A short, yellow demon whose face was made up entirely of a bird's beak with eyes, Hugo was a member of the Oracle track at Hexside. He'd garnered a small reputation as an avid supporter of Willow, with his trademark "Go Willow!" shout, and so Gus had asked him for help with learning Oracle magic.

Barcus had been roped into it as something of a student-expert on techniques. Rather than the usual witchling or biped demon, Barcus was actually a beast-type. As he had no bile sac, Barcus relied on indirect methods of magic taught at Hexside, such as potions and artifacts — which meant he knew those methods better than anyone. He apparently had some magic of his own that let him pass the Hexside entrance exam, but that was another matter.

"Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late."

"Ah, we saw it coming," Hugo said with a grin and an arched eyebrow.

"Are you serious? Or was that a joke?"

"Who knows?" Hugo asked, his grin widening. "Just me and Barcus."

Barcus warbled and yipped in his language.

"Barcus says that's the first rule of being an Oracle," Hugo said. "Never let them know what you really know."

Gavin was in his room sorting Abomination components when his dad knocked.

"Gavin?" Darius ventured, his tone uncharacteristically unsure.

"What is it, Dad?" he replied sullenly, his back turned to his father.

"You got something in the mail." Gavin looked up and turned to face Darius, who indeed held a purple envelope in his gloved hand. "It's from Blight Industries."

Gavin took the letter, conjured a letter opener out of Abomination clay to slice it open, and unfurled it to read intently. His eyes slowly widened as his gaze crossed the paper until he slowly lowered it looking a bit stunned.

"So?" Darius prodded. "What does it say?"

"It's from Alador and Odalia Blight," Gavin said distantly. "They're … offering me an internship at Blight Industries." He winced a bit, his stomach turning. And then his dad spoke.

"Are you going to take it?"

Gavin blinked and looked up at his father, who showed not a trace of derision or contempt, only … curiosity.

"Dad, I know you don't like Alador Blight," Gavin replied.

"I've never hid the fact that I don't care for the man," Darius admitted, "but that doesn't answer my question. Are you going to take up the offer?"

Gavin stared at his dad as if the man were speaking a foreign language. "Is this a test?"

"Perhaps," Darius said with a soft smirk.

Gavin looked down at the letter in his hands and turned the facts over in his mind. "It's a huge opportunity," he said.

"That's true," Darius said, loosely crossing his arms.

"They probably saw my duel with the Amethyst Artisan," Gavin added. "I guess this means they were impressed with my showing."

"Also true, and rightly so," Darius noted. "So what's holding you back?"

Gavin growled and rubbed his forehead with his free hand. "I don't know."

"Gavin, do you know why I didn't appoint you my apprentice?" Darius asked.

"I assumed you didn't think I could handle it," Gavin replied.

"Then you thought wrong, son," Darius said pointedly. Gavin blinked and looked up at his father in shock. "I will admit that I'm not a great father. Probably not even a good one." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "But I'm not so poor a father that I would subject my own son to cries of nepotism." He removed his hand and looked Gavin in the eye.

"Gavin, if I appointed you, my only son, directly to such a high position, no one would take you seriously. They would assume that you only got the job because you are my son … and I don't want that for you. It's the same reason I advised you to keep your connection to me a secret at school."

"Advised?" Gavin repeated dryly.

"Ordered, whatever," Darius said flippantly. "My point being that I have never once thought you were unworthy of greatness." He reached toward Gavin, but hesitated and drew his hand back. "I simply think it would be best to draw that out on your own, rather than rely on me."

Sudden anger, a low, smoldering thing, sprung up in Gavin's chest.

"Did that also include never spending time with me? Never once supporting my work? Leaving me alone in this house while you take care of the coven?!"

"Yes it did," Darius said resolutely. "Believe it or not, I did so in your best interests." His eyes softened. "Or at least what I believed to be your best interests." His bun of Abomination clay — a purposeful feature that helped smooth his transmutation spell — grew into a tendril that drew Gavin's desk chair for Darius to sit on. Which he did with a heavy breath.

"I'm sorry, Gavin," he said, though the words seemed to cause him physical pain.

"What?"

"I'm sorry I've been such a poor father." He looked up to meet Gavin's eyes, the eyes he'd inherited from this very man, and Gavin could see the truth there. "I only ever wanted you to succeed on your own merits. And I clearly lost sight of how far to take that." He lowered his head onto his crooked fingers. "Further, I let my duties to the coven overshadow my duties as a dad."

"You're busy," Gavin couldn't help but defend, through sheer habit. His heart ached with those familiar words, old wounds from a child's heart slowly peeling open.

"And how many times have I used that as an excuse?" Darius asked. He looked up, his eyes open, but serious. "So, will you take up the internship?"

Gavin looked at the letter now crumpled in his fist. He smoothed it out and skimmed over it again. "What do you think?"

"I think that this is your choice to make," Darius answered, standing up. "And I think …" Gavin started to draw in on himself, ready for his father's derision, "… that no matter your choice, I will support it."

Gavin audibly gasped and stared once more at his father in shock. "Really?"

"I swear to the Titan on it." Both witches looked up at the faintest sound of thunder.

"I …" Gavin swallowed down his nerves. "I want to try it."

"Do you have reliable transport?" Darius asked, not unkindly. Gavin nodded. "Then I hope it all goes well." He snorted. "If you think about it, there's a kind of symmetry here. I took on Alador's daughter as an apprentice, and my son is offered an internship." He chuckled. "How delightfully ironic."

He turned to leave, but paused. "Normally I would ask that you call Alador a hack. But given you will be working for the man, I would instead suggest not."

"A little fatherly advice?" Gavin asked, his tone just the least bit teasing.

"Long overdue, I'd say."

"Thanks, Dad. I'll, uh … I'll remember it."

"Good. Goodnight, Son."

Gavin felt his heart crack at being called "Son." This didn't solve everything, but … it was a start.

"Night, Dad."

"Skar? You okay?"

Skara jolted from a haze and shook her head. "Huh? What?" She blinked and looked around before remembering where she was. She and Quincey were out on a ranch for snake-horses where he would sometimes work for extra money and a little Beastkeeping extra credit. She toyed with the hem of her orange tank top worn over a denim skirt with her boots, her simple and airy outfit for these visits.

"Sorry, Quincey," Skara said with an apologetic smile. "Just lost in thought."

"That's been happening a lot lately," Quincey noted, and Skara could feel his concerned gaze even from behind those blinding bangs. "Do you wanna talk?"

Skara smiled for real at those words. Do you want to talk? A real question, rather than a command. Skara had known Quincey for years, their moms being best friends since their own days at Hexside who had stayed close even years later. The kids themselves had always been friendly, if not particularly close as Skara's parents started trying to climb the societal ladder.

Then about a year back, feelings had struck. Quincey was a genuinely nice guy, as shown in his treatment of animals. He was … gentle, and sweet, and supportive, while also being firm in training them. So unlike Boscha, Skara's best friend since even before she'd really known Quincey. And as they'd grown, he'd gotten tall and even a little muscley. She'd developed a crush, but she'd been too scared of ruining such a long friendship.

Then he'd asked her out about six months ago, they'd tried and found out that they really did have great chemistry. By the time Grom rolled around, they'd been quietly dating for months and were comfortable enough with each other that way for Quincey's crazy, extravagant, and oh-so-sweet Grom-posal.

And one of the things that attracted Skara more than all the other fine points of her boyfriend was the fact that he respected her. He asked rather than demanded. At the same time, he knew how to reel her in when her spoiled nature started to rear its head. He gave her what she needed rather than what she thought she needed and only wanted.

"It's about Boscha," she admitted.

Quincey's lips twitched and he coughed. "Oh boy. What's she up to now?"

Skara winced and rubbed her neck, taking a deep breath before letting it out. "She's been obsessing over the identity of the Golden Guard for a while now," Skara explained. "It actually got her in deep trouble last week. The only reason she wasn't sent to the Conformatorium was because her mom knows someone." Skara held herself. "I'm scared for her, Q."

Quincey was silent for a minute before he swept his bangs back to reveal large, soulful, solid-brown eyes. He always kept them covered because they tended to freak people out for whatever reason and he could navigate just fine by hearing. He looked at her, his heart aching at the clear pain on his girlfriend's face, then drew close to her side and let his bangs fall to wind his arm around her waist and draw her to him. She completed the soft embrace without hesitation, leaning into his sleeveless brown button-up.

"Skara," he whispered. "Maybe you've done enough, huh?"

"What do you mean?" she asked quietly, eyes widening.

"You've been looking out for Boscha for years," he explained. "Trying to hold her back while having your name raked through the mud with her." He bit his lips, baring his fangs as he did, and tried to push on without hurting his one-and-only girl. "I know you two have been close for ages. But you're not like her, Skara." He sighed and held her even closer, relishing her placing her palm on his chest.

"Maybe it's time to let her walk on her own and … find yourself a new posse."

"You're talking about Willow," Skara said neutrally.

"Not necessarily," Quincey replied. "Though I could definitely think of worse ideas. There's gotta be a reason Blight took off for her and Luz."

Skara felt reflexive anger rise in her belly and she stepped back to give her boyfriend a piece of her mind — but he'd brushed his bangs back again to show those eyes that she personally loved so much … and her anger faded away.

"I can't," Skara said, her eyes filling with tears as she buried her face into Quincey's chest. "Titan, after everything I've put Willow through … how could I ask that?"

"She forgave Amity," Quincey noted, holding her waist tighter. "And she stomped on their friendship way back."

Skara was silent as she thought that over. It was true that Willow had shown remarkable forgiveness to Amity, maybe too much. And that was before Amity and Luz started dating. Could it be possible for her to receive similar forgiveness?

"I'll think about it," she settled on.

"That's all I ask," Quincey said, kissing her temple.

"Holmwood! Get in gear, boy!"

Quincey winced at the summons by the burly, grizzled bull-like demon that ran the ranch's main operations. Lug was a fair enough ranch manager, but also gruff as could be. And he did not take slacking off lightly.

"Yes sir!" Quincey shouted, stepping away from Skara and vaulting over the pen wall. "Right away, sir!"

Skara smiled and hugged herself, her cheeks warming, as Quincey took the reins of a snake-horse to lead around the paddock to help it become comfortable. The beast was quite large, over eighteen hands tall. Like all of its kind, its front half was equine, this one's fur dark as midnight and silky, its mane long to reach past its shoulders with bangs hanging over its eyes, much like Quincey. Long, ivory fangs curved down from its mouth, a forked tongue sliding in and out from between its lips as it danced on pointed forehooves. Its back half was scaly and reptilian, its tail a long serpent capped in a hooded snake's head that was mercifully muzzled shut.

The snake-horse tried to pull away from Quincey's grasp more than once, but he remained firm — never jerking the beast's head, but also not letting it turn away from him. Skara sighed and played with the end of her ponytail at the sight of Quincey's muscles flexing as he guided the snake-horse, talking softly to it as if they were old friends. She bit her lip as moths arose in her belly, a giggle escaping her lips.

And as she stood in the sun and watched her boyfriend, his suggestion slowly simmered in the back of her mind.

"And you're sure about this?" Gwen asked.

"Yes, Mother, I'm beyond certain," Lilith said with fond exasperation. The Clawthorne women were wandering through Bonesborough to meet with an old acquaintance of Lilith's who had reached out to reconnect.

"He's in the Emperor's Coven," Gwen pointed out, though her tone was more wary than vicious.

"And he is a good person," Lilith gently argued. "One of the very few I honestly trust. If he says he wants to meet outside of the struggle, I believe him."

They eventually made it to a small restaurant that Lilith had suggested in their correspondence to find a man in his thirties sitting at a table alone reading a copy of Ruler's Reach. He was a witch of unremarkable features, even his matching silver hair and eyes seeming to fade into the background. Only his sharp cheekbones might draw a look, though not for long. His simple linen shirt and dark pants did nothing to help him stand out, either.

The man looked up from his book as if sensing eyes on him and found Lilith, smiling widely and waving. Lilith waved back with a fond smile. "I'll be fine, Mother. I promise."

"Oh, alright, Sweetflea," Gwen conceded. "I need to get some shopping done anyway for dinner tonight. If you need me," she raised a finger with a glint in her eye, "just call."

Lilith rolled her eyes as her mother left, her smile undiminished, and joined the gentleman at his table.

"It's good to see you, Steve," she greeted.

"Good to see you, too, Mada- Uh, Lilith! Lilith, just Lilith. No … no 'madam'." Steve blushed and rubbed the back of his head.

"It's fine, Steve," Lilith chuckled. "It has been a while."

"True. By the way, I like the new look."

Lilith looked down at her newest ensemble. In addition to wearing her glasses again, she wore a sea green blouse under an open brown vest, paired with a maroon skirt and leather ankle-boots. She ran her hand through her hair and smiled at the faint curls returning to her hair.

"Why thank you, Steve."

With most of the ice broken between the old coven mates, they kept up the chatter to catch up. There was an unspoken agreement to avoid coven-talk, as Lilith was still considered a traitor even if her powerlessness made capturing her seemingly low-priority and Steve was still a member of the Emperor's Coven. But there were still things they could catch up on.

"Wow, you've never felt attraction like that?" Steve asked.

"I can't recall it, honestly," Lilith said with a rueful smile. "Before I might have explained it away as being too focused on my studies, and then my duties and trying to cure my sister, but … With all of the free time I have now, it's become more and more obvious."

"Not gonna lie, that breaks my heart just a little," Steve said. "I might have, uh, had a crush on you for a while now." His eyebrows knitted in over-the-top thought. "And for the life of me, I can't decide if never having a chance makes it better or worse."

Lilith snickered behind her hand at his expression and Steve grinned widely at making her laugh. The expression seemed to transform him from dull to radiant, and Lilith idly thought that Steve would one day make some witch or demon very happy if the coven didn't put such a restriction on personal lives.

"I'm sorry, Steve," she said, adjusting her glasses.

"Don't be," Steve said emphatically. "You can't help what you feel. Or I guess don't feel, in your case. Some people are just that way and there's nothing wrong with it." He took a bite of his meal before continuing. "Besides, I think friendship is great. I like the new you, Lilith. It's not just the clothes, it's-" He gestured at all of her. "It's everything. You seem so much more relaxed now. More … more happy."

Lilith felt her heart warm like it did around Hooty. "I am happy. I-" Lilith's smile faded as a thought struck her. "Steve-"

"You want dessert?" Steve suddenly asked, his voice a little strained. "I think I could use some shock-alot sauce on a cookie. Waiter!"

Lilith sighed at the obvious deflection. Steve had never been great at hiding his emotions unless he was utterly silent, and without his hood, helmet, and visor, he wore his heart even higher on his sleeve. Lilith had come to realize that the Emperor's Coven had made her miserable from start to finish, and Steve clearly did not want to dwell on that.

But the fact that he had anticipated her meant … he seemed to have clued into that himself.

"Steve, may I ask you a question that is … somewhat related to your work?"

Steve tensed and gripped his glass of water before swallowing. "Depends on what the question is, I guess."

"The Golden Guard," Lilith said, her nails running over the wood of their table like a tense cat. "Is he … well?"

"Well?" Steve asked blankly, blinking in confusion.

"Is he alright?"

Steve looked away and seemed to chew on his answer, complete with chewing the inside of his cheek. "Honestly? It's kinda hard to answer."

"I understand," Lilith said with a sad smile. "Too confidential. Why don't we-?"

"No, Lilith, it's not that," Steve said, his tone earnest. "It's literally tough to describe." He scratched his head and made some vague gestures before flicking his wrist. "On one hand, Belos is getting … intense. We can all see it. He's pushing the kid hard, harder than ever before. It's like he wants the guy to slip up." His eyes, narrowed with frustration, widened a little. "But on the other hand, I don't think I've ever seen him so happy." He huffed a laugh. "Rumor's going around that he's having a thing with the Silver Belle. Y'know, the plant apprentice? And if it's true, well, the kid deserves some happiness in his life."

"I suppose so," Lilith replied. She chose to leave unspoken that she knew for a fact that they were having much more than a thing, whatever that meant. "On an unrelated note, have I told you about my pen pal?"

"Pen pal?" Steve asked with interest.

"He's certainly an odd bird, but he's sweet. His name is Hooty."

Chapter nineteen! A fun little break to check in on our side characters; and it was very fun to write!

*The opener with Shimmer (recall: voiced by Tara Strong as Teen Titans' Raven) waking Gus was adapted from the film Tangled, and was my brother's idea. After he suggested it, I couldn't not put it in somewhere!

*Gus's interest in Oracle magic is derived from his canon interest in the oracle sphere from 'Agony of a Witch." I just like the idea of him diversifying because he wants to - and his dad being in the Oracle track allows it to make even more sense. Hugo is the name I gave to the hooded bird-like demon with the yellow face at Hexside ("Yeah! Go Willow!"). It is derived from Hugin, the name of one of Odin's ravens from Norse lore.

*Barcus being a beast-type demon is something I struggled with. My thoughts on it are that he doesn't even speak the typical Boiling Isles language, certain bug-types seem sentient (fairies, puppeteers, Hooty), and we've never seen him use a spell circle in canon despite Viney and Jerbo doing so. His own latent magic is up for debate - I may address it later or not.

*"Any Sport in a storm" really impacted my interpretation of Darius. That's why I wrote this bit with him and Gavin. He's still been a neglectful dad, but I was going to write him worse. He'll try harder from now on. And the invite for an internship just came to me; I think it'll be fun to play with later. FYI, in this AU, Darius attended Glandus. This was written long before TTB,K revealed he attended Hexside with Alador and Odalia.

*It was fun designing the snake-horses (snorses!) that Lilith referenced in "EW&EW."

*Skara's bat-like biped boyfriend's name, Quincey Holmwood, is derived from the novel Dracula. Quincey Morris was the member of the group that staked Dracula (with a Bowie knife!) while Arthur Holmwood was Lucy's fiance who helped Van Helsing vanquish her out of his love for her.

*Lilith's comment on not feeling attraction is based on a in-character letter to Hooty by Cissy Jones over one of Dana Terrace's livestream events. It was also so much fun to write Steve again!

As always, I hope you all liked it! Leave a review if you can. And carry on you delightful weirdos!