Now with post-demise at hand

"Rilla!" exclaims Miranda as she walks down the street from where I know the bus stop to be. Clearly, she's surprised to see him loitering around opposite her home and who can blame her? I came here unannounced, hitching a ride with Ken who had to return to Edinburgh to deal with some work stuff, and have since been waiting for close to twenty minutes on the sidewalk for Miranda to return home.

"Miranda! Fancy seeing you –" I interrupt myself and sigh, muttering, "Oh, who am I even trying to kid?"

"Are you here to check up on me?" Miranda smiles and crosses the street to come towards me. "That's very kind of you."

Uh…

"Um, sure! Yes, absolutely! I wanted to see how you're doing!" I laugh brightly, hoping that Miranda won't see that that wasn't quite why I came to be here. I mean, she's right, it's totally why I should have come here, but I guess I'm just not as good a person as she is by a mile.

Miranda's smile widens. "That's very nice. Do you want to come inside for a cup of tea or coffee?"

"Coffee would be grand. I could use a little pick-me-up," I agree, wondering privately when I started using words like 'grand' and 'pick-me-up'.

With a motion of her hand, Miranda invites me to follow her. She unlocks the front door to her home while explaining, "My father is out. I know he wasn't very nice to you the last time you were here."

"Oh, that's okay. I understand. He was just worried," I assure her, though silently, I'm relived not to have to deal with Mr Pryor today. After everything that's happened, I'm not sure I have the patience to grin and bear it right now.

"Please have a seat," invites Miranda once we're in the living room and points at the floral sofa. "I'm just going to make us some coffee."

I have to bite my tongue to keep from telling her not to mind about the coffee. After all, despite Miranda perceiving this to be a social call, I came here with a very clear agenda and I'm too antsy for niceties. Still, I was taught manners at Susan Baker's knee and though she was often exasperated with me, it wasn't all in vain, so I remain seated and wait impatiently for Miranda to return with coffee.

She does so after a short while, balancing a tray with two mugs and a small plate of cookies. Carefully, she places the tray on a low table in front of me and hands me one of the mugs.

"So, um, how are you?" I ask, cradling the mug in both hands.

Miranda smiles bravely, if a little shakily. "I'm okay. The uncertainty is making it a little difficult, but I'm doing my best to be courageous and not let it get to me. I went out to the shops on my own today and it was… it was fine."

"I'm glad to hear it," I reply and do genuinely mean it, too. I might not have come here specifically to check up on Miranda, but now that I am here, I honestly do care about how she's doing.

"I read in the papers that they found other people who were kidnapped," remarks Miranda after a moment of silence. "Do you think…"

I nod. "Yes, we believe it was the same place you were held."

"Hmm." She hums, pensively. "And what about…?"

"He's gone," I answer simply.

I can see her take a deep breath before she raises her mug for a long sip of coffee. "So, do you think it's, you know, safe?"

"You've got nothing to fear anymore," I assure her. After all, Ken checked in with both Ermintrude and Robert, who believable told us they had no idea what Owen Ford was doing, so we've got good reason to believe he was acting alone.

Again, Miranda takes a long sip of coffee and when she lowers her mug again, I can see tears glistening in her eyes. They are, clearly, tears of relief. "That's good to know," she replies and while her words are simple and her voice quite composed, I know that a lot of fear and uncertainty just lifted from her shoulders.

For a few moments, we continue drinking our coffee in silence, while Miranda appears to work through her emotions and I try to think of an elegant and non-insulting way to change the subject and broach the reason why I came here in the first place.

"So," begins Miranda after carefully having placed her mug back on the tray. "Why are you really here?"

"Um," I pause, stumped. "Excuse me?"

She smiles. "It's okay. I can see that something is on your mind. If there's anything I can help you with, I'm happy to try."

Well, that was easier than I thought it would be and yet… somehow, now I feel even worse than before.

Still, it's the best opportunity I'm likely to get, so there's nothing for it but to soldier on.

"I… I'm glad you're saying that, actually," I state, hoping to appear suave. "Obviously, I did come here to check in on you, but you're not entirely wrong in saying that there might be something you can assist me with."

Ugh. When did I start sounding like an adult?

"Does it have to do with the ghost who came with you and is now waiting in the hallway?" asks Miranda mildly.

I nod, breathing a sigh of relief. My entire plan depended on him coming here with me, so it's important to know that this, at least worked out. It felt supremely odd to be standing in Leslie's kitchen and loudly telling him that we needed to talk and that I needed for him to accompany me – odd enough, certainly, for Agnes to eye me with much distrust – but I didn't really know how else to do it. Since I also have no idea how ghosts travel and thus, didn't know whether he was in the car with Ken and me on the way here, I made an already uncomfortable drive even more awkward.

"Yes, he's the reason I'm here," I confirm to Miranda. I don't quite know how to tell her that the ghost in the hallway used to be the man who kidnapped her, so instead, I explain, "He's Ken's father."

"Oh." Miranda looks concerned. "Did Ken ask you to contact me about his father?"

"No." I shake my head. "No, I'm not even sure he knows his father is a ghost."

Strictly speaking, before Miranda confirmed it to me just now, I couldn't have been sure of Owen Ford sticking around as a ghost either instead of moving on, but somehow, I never really doubted that he did. I hardly knew the man and never had any desire to know him more closely than I did, but it's clear to me that he has unfinished business. Whatever else he did, he also returned my powers to me solely so as not to disappoint his son, so for his family to find out that he was a kidnapper and criminal without him having a chance to explain… no way he could move on!

"Shall we call him inside?" asks Miranda kindly.

I hesitate. She doesn't deserve to run into this without any sort of preparation. She doesn't deserve not to be able to say no.

"He's the one responsible for the kidnappings," I inform her, the words coming out in a rush.

There's a long pause as Miranda processes this. I can see emotions flit over her face like shadows and realise, in that second, that I was wrong to come here.

Abruptly, I get to my feet. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here and asked you to do this. I couldn't think of another demon to ask, but that's no excuse. It was inconsiderate of me and I'm sorry. I won't bother you any longer. Thanks for the coffee and… I'm really sorry."

Miranda shakes her head. "No, please. Sit down. I'll help you."

Very slowly, I sit back down. "But… why?"

"I help people. It's what I do," she replies, very matter-of-factly. "And also… I need answers as much as you do, perhaps more so."

"Are you sure?" I study her face. "I don't want you to feel worse over this."

There's a brief pause, before Miranda nods. "I'm sure. I want to speak to him. I want to know why."

And she's not the only one.

"Okay, then… let's call him in, right?" I smile in what I hope is an encouraging way, before calling, louder, "Owen Ford, you can come inside now."

Nothing happens, at least not to my eyes, but after a few seconds, Miranda nods. "He's by the window. He looks…" She grimaces slightly.

"He was crushed by a car," I explain, not knowing how to put it more delicately.

Miranda keeps her eyes averted from the place by the window where I know a ghostly Owen Ford to be and I can't say I blame her. I caught a brief glimpse of the body after it happened and… I can imagine it's the sight of nightmares.

"Did you do it?" Because she's looking at me and not at him, it takes me a moment to understand that Miranda's question is directed at Owen Ford.

She listens for a moment, before meeting my gaze and nodding slightly.

"Did you act alone?" I want to know, taking up the thread of questioning.

Another pause, another nod from Miranda.

I let go of a long breath. At least we're safe now. At least there's that.

"Why?" Miranda's voice is unusually forceful, giving me an idea about how important the question is for her.

This time, the pause stretches for a much longer time, with Miranda listening intently and me shifting impatiently in my seat. I know this is the only way to communicate with Owen Ford right now, but God knows it's frustrating to be the only one who's privy to just half of the conversation!

Finally, finally, Miranda raises her lowered head and looks at me. "He was studying us."

Studying?

But…

"But why?"

"Our magic," she clarifies. "He was studying our magic. He held different magical beings to study the way they used magic."

This… I'm not sure this makes any sort of sense.

"To what purpose?" I ask, feeling somewhat exasperated with how slowly the information are coming, drip by drip by drip by drip.

Miranda briefly looks at the window, thus direction my question over to Owen Ford. This time, she begins speaking sooner, in a low voice, giving me the feeling that she's repeating his words while he says them instead of waiting for him to finish. "At first, it was just curiosity. We have six different known types of magic in the world and we know next to nothing about them. Witchcraft is the best studied sort, but in the case of fairy magic or shapeshifters, so much is unknown. It seemed worth studying in further depth."

"By kidnapping people?" My voice catches and trips as I speak.

I think Miranda is wanting to know much the same thing, because she looks at me meaningful, before relaying Owen Ford's next words, "It was done in the most humane and considerate way possible."

Humane?

Considerate?

What the – ?

I have to take several deep breaths to compose myself and force down the words lying on the tip of my tongue. We still need more answers from Owen Ford, so it won't do to start insulting him now. Besides, this isn't about me.

Thus, the only thing I'm asking is, "Are you okay?" It is, of course, directed at Miranda, because she's the one who experienced this so-called 'considerate' treatment and anyway, what do I care about Owen Ford's well-being, ghost or not?

I can see Miranda gather her courage, before she attempts a shaky smile and nods. She really is, I must say, stronger than one would imagine just from looking at her.

"He says," she continues after a moment. "He says that he put us to sleep most of the time so we wouldn't be scared while being held and that he did everything to keep us healthy and safe." It's to her credit that she can say this without any sarcasm in her voice. "When he had studied someone for long enough, he used their own magic within them to block their memories of the time with him and then let them go."

Considerate, huh?

The sheer arrogance of it is breath-taking.

Miranda appears to be thinking the same thing, because she turns towards the window and states, with only a light tremor to her voice, "Wiping our memories didn't make it right. We still have to live with the knowledge of having been taken, of having lost weeks of our lives. To know that something happened but not knowing what happened is… it's a horrible thing. What you did was a horrible thing. There's nothing considerate about it, not to the people you took nor to their families who worried for them. It was a horrible, horrible thing."

She says it so plainly, clearly fighting to stay calm as she does, but there are emotions behind every word, barely concealing how much she suffered because of what he did to her. It feels like a punch in the gut even to me and if he has a heart, or if he ever had one, surely Owen Ford must see it, too?

I'd give a lot to be able to see him now, but lacking that power, I have to wait until Miranda turns her head to look back at me. "He says he's sorry. He says he didn't consider how it would feel like afterwards. He says he thought by blocking our memories, he was making it alright."

Idiot.

Bloody, stupid, effing –

"I don't see how he did it. Witchcraft isn't capable of that kind of magic," I remark so as not to call Owen Ford all the names I want to call him. "Actually, I don't think any being is."

"He says that you are," points out Miranda a mere second later.

I shrug. I'm still not entirely sure what I'm capable of with regards to my magic and besides, I'm not the one we're talking about.

"This isn't about me," I parry. "This is about what he did and about how no witch is capable of putting others to sleep and wiping their memories."

Except no witch should be able to block someone else's magic either and I'm living proof that Owen Ford did.

"He says that he studied witchcraft more intensively than any else and that he found it to be capable of much more than anyone knew before," relays Miranda. "When there was nothing more to study about witchcraft, he turned to the other types of magic to try and understand them better."

"And to use them." I don't know where the thought came from, but the moment it leaves my lips, I know it to be true. "He claims to be a scholar, a student of magic, but this isn't about understanding or knowledge. If it was, he would have stopped at knowing and wouldn't have acted on it. If it was, it would have been enough for him to know that he could block memories and block magic without having to do it."

I meet Miranda's eye and incline my head towards the window. "Ask him whether he studied the different types of magic to learn them – to use them."

Because suddenly, it all starts making sense. My magic radar was never quite able to place the kidnapper as being a witch, because by this point, he had acquired other forms of magic, too, confusing my radar enough so to make him unplaceable.

"He says that it wasn't his intention," answers Miranda in Owen Ford's stead and I secretly admire her for how calm she can be about this. "He says it was really just about understanding and about furthering the knowledge of all magical beings, but then he got curious about whether he could stretch witchcraft to cover other types of magic, too."

"Successfully?" I raise both eyebrows.

Miranda listens for a moment, a look of concentration on her face. "He didn't have much success, he says. He ruled out vampirism from the beginning and found dwarf magic too difficult to access properly. He was working on shapeshifting and demon magic, but only managed small steps in direction of approximating their form of magic. He thought that fairy magic might be easier, because it's active, like witchcraft."

Hence why he went after me, in the alley behind the bar and later in the woods behind his own home. Me, the one fairy in the world whom he knew to have no protective powers, because he himself made sure of it.

"Sort of makes you wonder what would have happened if he had succeeded, huh?" asks Miranda with a wry little smile.

If he had succeeded in stealing or copying the magic of other beings, she means. Owen Ford, loath as I do to admit it, is – or was, I suppose – one of the most powerful witches I ever encountered, stretching witchcraft beyond the realms of what many considered possible. If he had, in addition, gained control over demon magic or, worse, fairy magic… the consequences are unthinkable.

"No single being should be that powerful," I murmur, before looking up at Miranda. "That was his reasoning for blocking my own powers as a baby. No single being should be that powerful. And yet, he himself strove to be more powerful than anyone else. The hypocrisy of it… I mean, it would almost be funny, except it really isn't."

"No," agrees Miranda tonelessly. "There's nothing funny about it at all."

I don't know if Owen Ford has anything to say to that and if he does, Miranda doesn't repeat it to me. Instead, she searches my gaze and asks, "What do we do now? Do we think his family wants to speak to him?"

"Does he want to speak to his family?" I ask back, raising both eyebrows.

Briefly, Miranda looks back at the window, before replying, "More than anything in the world. That's what he says, anyway."

Yes, I thought so.

"I could make it happen." From the corner of my eye, I look towards the window, but of course, there's nothing there I can see. My magic might be quite special itself, but seeing ghosts remains the realms of demons.

"You?" Miranda is clearly confused. "I thought I would play go-between."

"You certainly can, even though I really don't want to bother you further with this," I acknowledge. "But I didn't mean going through an intermediate. I can make it happen that he can speak to his family directly again. At least I'm pretty sure I can."

"How?" It's Miranda speaking, but I'm not sure whether it's her question or Owen Ford's. Probably, it's from the both of them.

I take a deep breath. "I can bring him back."

"Back?" asks Miranda. "Back back? As in, back from… the dead"

"Uh-huh." I nod slowly. "I should probably say that I can make his death undone."

"You mean you can… go back in time or something?" Miranda stares at me, her already round eyes even rounder.

"I can turn back time," I amend. "At least supposedly, I can." It could, I can't deny, be disinformation, but since everything else Elizabeth Grayson predicted did come true, I don't see why this one aspect shouldn't be accurate.

"That's… that's…" Apparently, my revelation rendered poor Miranda speechless.

Smiling wryly, I remark, "So much for one person having too much power, huh?"

She blinks, nods, then shakes her head. "No, no. That's not it. I'm just surprised."

"And with reason," I admit. "I can't tell you much about how it works, unfortunately, only that I'm reasonably sure that I can turn us all back to minutes before he died and redirect the course of the car. I don't dare go back any further for fear of throwing history off its course, but this is just a few days. I can manage to go back a few days."

At least I hope I can bring my magic to do so.

"And would we remember how it was?" Her shock wearing off, curiosity begins to appear on Miranda's feature.

I shake my head. "No. Apparently, I will be the only one to remember how things originally were. To everyone else, the new course of action will be the only one to ever have happened."

To everyone else, Owen Ford will never have been dead, which is sort of the point of why I'm doing this at all.

"You're doing this for his family," realises Miranda. "You're offering to bring him back to them, for them."

"Yes," I confirm simply.

She nods slowly. "I understand." I really think she does.

"They will still learn about what she did though," I continue. "I won't hide him or cover for him or anything. He will have to face them and answer their questions and deal with the fall-out of what he did."

He won't have to face criminal charges, because there's no way to explain what happened to the human police, but he will have to face his wife and children, which, I think, might well be worse.

"He says that he understands that," Miranda relays to me. "He says that there's nothing he wouldn't do if only he could see them again."

"They might not forgive him though," I warn, thinking of Ken. "Or, not all of them might."

"He understand that, too," Miranda tells me after only a second or two.

It's no real surprise to me. If Owen Ford knows his son at all, he also knows that his actions are such that Ken cannot and will not forgive them easily. Certainly, he won't forget them, and I have a feeling Leslie and Persis won't be willing to just brush over them either.

"I have two more conditions," I remark, my gaze flickering from Miranda over to the window and back. "One, he needs to try and make up for what he did, at least as best as possible. I want him to promise that he seeks out everyone he subjected to his studies and does whatever is in his power to help and support them. I also want him to do so anonymously so as not to upset them further."

"Nothing he could do could make this right," points out Miranda quietly.

"No," I acknowledge immediately. "No, I understand that. But if there is anything he can do, I want him to do it. I want him to promise that he won't forget those he made suffer."

A brief silence fills the room.

Then – "He promises."

Good.

Like Miranda said, nothing Owen Ford or anyone can do could ever be enough to

"What's the second condition?" asks Miranda when I don't say anything more.

"Right." I nod, business-like. "I considered his opinion about how no single being should have that kind of power and I agree with it. Therefore, I don't think it's feasible for him to return to be among the living while in possession of his magical powers. He has used them for evil and frankly, I don't trust him not to do so again."

"You mean you want to…?" Miranda trails off.

"I will block his magic and I will make sure it's permanent," I explain. "He can come back, but he cannot come back as a witch, certainly not one as powerful as he used to be. I will bring him back so his family can get some sort of closure, but I will block his access to magic beforehand so he can never make anyone suffer like this again."

He said he'd do anything to see his family again. The question is, does he love them enough to give up the magic that was a part of his entire life, so much so that I doubt he truly knows who he is, if not a witch?

"He says it reminds him about what they did to you as a baby," relays Miranda, a slight frown of confusion on her face. "Back then, he helped block your magic and now you want to block his. He says it's a full circle."

"In some ways, it is," I agree. "And yet, there's one very important difference."

Miranda looks at me expectantly when I pause and I can almost feel the eyes of Owen Ford on me as well, willing me to continue. Before I do, I turn to the window, imagining him to be standing there.

"I'm giving him the one thing I never had," I state calmly. "A choice."

The title of this chapter is taken from the song 'Simple together' (written by Alanis Morissette, released by her in 2002).

To Guest No.1:
Owen didn't fight his family per se. As Rilla notes in chapter 32, he's using objects to block them in, meaning that he's trying to prevent them from reaching him, but without actively trying to hurt anyone. That doesn't turn him into a good guy, but it does mean he was trying not to hurt his wife and son, for whatever that is worth.
Returning Rilla's powers actually went against Owen's master plan. For one, he had an idea that he could use Rilla to study fairy powers, because while her powers are still there, she couldn't access them and thus couldn't protect herself. For anther, Rilla's magic matches and possibly even outmatches Owen's own, so he's got not much interest in creating a potential adversary in her. That he returned her powers to her was solely because of Ken. He couldn't look his son in the eye and deny something that Ken was so strongly advocating for - which is actually quite an important little fact, so I'm glad you asked about that =).
The relationship of Rilla and Ken is quite an interesting one, because I originally thought I'd pair them up properly much sooner in the story. As I was writing though, I realised that they (Rilla especially) really has enough to worry about without adding romance to the mix. I don't think it'll surprise anyone to hear that this is where they're heading, but for now, they have a mystery to solve and people to protect, which means they work together and support each other without complicating things with romance for now. I agree that in the long run, they'll be stronger for it, too, because it gives them a foundation they might not have had if things had turned romantic right away.
Manipulation of time is very tricky! Rilla knows that there's one restriction, meaning she can't manipulate time further back than her own birth, so as not to create a conundrum she couldn't possibly solve. However, the logics of time travel and time manipulation are always impossible, so I generally try not to dwell on them too much, lest my brain turns itself into one big know ;).

To Guest No.2:
Rilla can't travel back in time as such. It's more that she turns time itself back, which then causes a new timeline to be established. The difference, to me, is that she can't travel forward into her old timeline again if she felt like it. Once she changes time, the new timeline becomes permanent and can't be undone again. Though I must admit that I find the concept of time travel to be quite mind-bending in general and try not to dwell on the logistics for too long of I can at all help it... ;)