Author's Notes: Howdy everyone! Sorry for the long wait for this update! Life and other projects kept getting in the way, as they are wont to do. Lol. But for reasons that I'm sure will become apparent soon, I wanted to get this next chapter out in the month of December. Heck, some of you might be able to guess the gist of why just from this chapter's title! Lol

Anyway, here is the third chapter of The Owl Lady's Million to One Chance: No Better Present


They reappeared.

The four witches and one human all reeled as they fit back into the patchwork of History.

WELCOME TO ANKH-MORPORK.

All five of Death's living companions regarded the sights around them, or this Ankh-Morpork.

The city was as huge and imposing as it was surreal and old looking as far as Luz thought. It was the kind of place she could have spent weeks exploring like that most dreadful of Discworld species–-a tourist. Even the hardened residents of this seedy city's seediest sections that were seedy enough to likely bear fruit which was better off not eaten by any sort of rational creature were unnerved by that particular offshoot of Life. The fundamentally optimistic and joyful mindset, the inability to think that anything bad could happen to them and that any encountered hostility was merely the result of some easily fixable misunderstanding, the childlike ignorance that allowed every rubbish infested street corner to be viewed as if it were a unique marvel, the paramount desires to simply look at everything around them and to purchase overpriced and tacky "cultural" garbage that was both mass produced and just yesterday came from someone's trash…none of the Ankh-Morpork's natives wanted to believe such things were shared features.

The particulars of the sight surrounding the gathering of those from the Boiling Isles would vindicate this profound distrust only rivaled by their undying bitterness towards street mimes. The silent buggers!

Ankh-Morpork was a metropolis that defined the word 'teeming' in the same way that spoiled milk defined 'rancid.' A city that never slept, though this was maybe to make sure your gold was still there in the morning. A city that didn't have neighborhoods so much as ecologies like great landbased coral reefs that had been divided for reasons most of those living there had long since forgotten. A city that, despite some fleeting examples of sporadic modernity and basic common sense present here and there, was still in sore need of either more extensive governmental help, or for preference, a flamethrower. It couldn't be called squaild because that would stretch the word to breaking point. It was beyond squalor and out the other side, where by a sort of Einsteinian reversal it achieved a magnificent horribleness that it wore like an architectural award. Even with not a soul in sight, it was noisy, sultry, and smelled like a cowshed floor.

Even the heavy piles of snow here and there didn't lessen this sense of vainglorious slumminess. That powdery whiteness only added a semi-concealing aura of whimsy to that which seemed fatally allergic to such fancies despite having it anyway. The effect was like throwing a few handfuls of pretty glitter over the corpse of an elephant that had been rotting for a few hot days.

Signs full of archaic spelling boldly advertised products and services of pretty much every sort. Despite being brazenly garish and direct in their verbiage, they were somewhat hard to read. Oh, the words were recognizable enough, often looking like someone wrote down the words as they sounded, not how they were traditionally written. It was vaguely similar to Middle English, the 'forsooth' heavy dialect of pretentious playwrights in frilly collars that Luz often said sounded similar to the Azura the Good Witch books, despite the eager protests of her English teachers. The words often replaced i's with y's and had prosthetic e's at the ends of words like "all," "you", "wish," "for", and "gold" (which, incidentally, could've been thought of as a crude motto for the cruder city, everyone in Ankh-Morpork wished for gold). These and other misspellings reflected an archaic alphabet that was functional despite its failings. Like the sloth, by all rights it should have been rendered extinct for its innumerable deficiencies but it kept soldiering on anyway mostly due to many alternatives of written information being even more cumbersome for communication. At least the Ankh-Morpork alphabet didn't take an entire day's time to write a single sentence about how pretty the flowers were through indecipherable pictographs.

One particular sign, one that seemed barely standing with the name Floating Bladder Pictures above a crudely drawn image of the aforementioned body part doing what the first word suggested, prompted Luz to point at it, to ensure someone else saw such an unexpected sight. This was abruptly abandoned due to an experience that was a far more unexpected sight instead.

Her own extended arm and hand, looking as if it were made of somewhat transparent blue light.

This was sufficient to take her attention off Ankh-Morpork. A spike of fear shot through her until she poked her extended limb with its sister limb and found that she was just as solid as always. Her one hand didn't pass through her other arm, as the hispanic human feared it might. That was good. But there were still unanswered questions. Like, for example, how and why was she floating slightly off the ground? Oh, and why was she suddenly blue and kinda see-through?

'Oh…my…I'm a Force Ghost!' Luz thought eagerly, before a duet of new thoughts replaced it. 'Wait…does this mean I died after all? Does this mean I have the Force!?' Then she paused. 'No…no…that's silly. I can't have the Force. I wasn't taken away from my mom!'

Convinced of her lack of any supernatural abilities outside of the magic she was attempting to learn under Eda's (somewhat lax) tutelage, the human turned to face the four witches with her. They were apparently in a similar state to herself, initially alarmed but starting to adjust regardless. All five of them had a vaguely blue transparent quality to them and somehow their feet didn't quite touch the ground. They all just kinda bobbed a few inches in the air like transparent yet incredibly detailed and masterful balloon animals in the shape of humanoids.

Having seen enough fiction to make some educated guesses based on these few details, despite the probable lack of any connection to any sort of Force, Luz decided to test the nature of her current state's solidity by using the most objectively valid means of scientific inquiry possible.

She put her face into things.

Phasing her face into a house wall, a street, and then a stray dog that was walking by proved her hunch correct. The dog didn't react in the slightest and just continued searching for food.

AS LUZ HAS SHOWN, Death began, YOU CANNOT INTERFERE WITH THE PAST. OUR WORDS CANNOT BE HEARD. OUR FORMS CANNOT BE SEEN. AND OUR GESTURES CANNOT BE FELT. WE MAY OBSERVE WITHOUT HARMING HISTORY. NOW, PLEASE TURN YOUR ATTENTION TO MONEY TRAP LANE OVER THERE.

The five turned to where Death was pointing.

In the middle of Money Trap Lane there was a set of small stone steps leading up to the door that were underneath a street lantern post. A hanging sign above the stairway bathed in lingering torchlight had the following written on it: Thimble's Pipe and Tobacco Shop.

Someone was lying on the stone steps as if they were a bed. The group gasped. Their astro-projected forms moved towards the positioned out form. All of the semi-blue faces showed confusion and worry, no one more so than Eda. That was surprising to all of the others. Eda wore her status as a 'bad girl' like a proper petticoat, relishing in doing things most of society frowned upon. But she did have morals, and some lines that she wouldn't cross. The Owl Lady was starting to get worried if her worst was her bringing someone else into Death's bony embrace. The space between themselves and the steps seemed infinite, for reasons Eda couldn't have begun to explain in any sort of coherent manner. Eventually though, they all stood over the form draped over the small set of stone steps.

It was a heartbreaking sight. It was a teenage girl, likely about the same age as Luz or Amity, covered in tattered clothing with their original colors impossible to determine thanks to all the filthy stains covering them. She was curled up on the top step, as if trying to force her knees into her chest. Hunger the likes of which neither of the youngest females had ever known clearly had this desperate child in its grim grip due to how utterly emaciated she was. Her shriveled body was vexed by a bizarre paradox, at once moving too much and not nearly enough. On the one hand, this young woman was shivering rather severely in the cold. But on the other hand, her chest was hardly undulating, depressingly infrequent in the intakes of needed oxygen.

The five folks out of Time were just barely floating above the sorry shape. Luz had attempted to reach out to the clearly suffering young girl out of reflex, only to find that her hands passed through this girl as they did everything else and her comforting words fell on deaf ears. This caused the human to pout, with the expression looking more adorable than it had any right to be. She and the other four present were as sympathetic to the sight before them as they were utterly confused as to why Death brought them here to witness this unsettling sight. Any attempts to pry answers from the towering skeleton were about as productive as if any of them had attempted living without skin or organs. Death could pull off that look but not everyone could do so. Finding no answers forthcoming, they all turned to try and gleam some answers from the sight before them. Five sets of eyes were more critically gazing now, searching for anything of note.

Though covered in layers upon layers of grime that created a grim parody of a rainbow, the young woman's face hadn't been reduced to total ugliness by her far less than ideal state. Long strands of red reached down the shivering back and ended at the quivering behind. Once it was as vibrant and orange as freshly fed flames but now it was more like the torchlight flickering above. Faded and sputtering along with apparent difficulty, with many of the crimson hairs muddied by actual mud and other random less identifiable debris. At least, it was fervently hoped by all those watching that it was predominately mud. The city did smell like a cowshed floor, after all.

Staring out at nothing was a pair of golden eyes. Eyes that had likely once gleamed like freshly polished fortunes were now dulled and dirtied like coins weathered and well since past spent. There was no comprehension in those eyes, only a vacancy of any intelligence. They were eyes that had seen too much far too soon, that had been burnt out already.

Apart from the baseline empathy such a sorry state couldn't help but elicit from anyone who wasn't already a hardened sociopath, none of the four witnesses in their teenage years obtained much by staring at this. But their elder, she was a different story. Edalyn Clawthrone felt something gnawing at her within her unconscious mind at seeing this wretched thing before her. A million little whispered suggestions of something much larger and deeper were gathering as she regarded this poor child. Then, out of nowhere, with the force of a meteorite the size of the Boiling Isles itself, Eda was struck by an epiphany as dominating as it was terrible. As much as her logical mind screamed that the conclusion she had reached was utterly impossible. Swarms of unbidden thoughts and memories began to relentlessly claw their way to the surface. Within their writhing waves of recollections, the Owl Lady achieved awful understanding.

All at once, Eda knew exactly why this pitiful shape reverberated so strongly within her subconscious mind. Being able to gloss over the less savory details that reflected recent misfortunes on city streets, the Owl Lady recognized this girl. Recognized her face. How couldn't she? It was a face she had seen so many times.

Anytime she opened a photo album.

"Th—that's…" Eda began, before an express train of sequential recollections slammed into her skull. All at once, she remembered how after her curse showed itself for the first time at the duel to join the Emperor's Coven…she didn't return home after running off as the owl-beast. No, she just ran and ran and ran as far away as she could, confused and terrified, not feeling like she could have anyone help her without hurting them. Then, thanks to her newfound powers of natural flight, she got very far away from those she knew. Too far for Lilith or her parents to have any hope of finding her. She had ended up in a really big city. A city just like this…

"That's…m—me…" Eda added, after an eternity of reminiscence. "That's me as a kid! I—I was a match girl for this place. But—but then…" Her normally white skinned face paled even further, as if a white wall had been drained of the other colors within its imperfections. None of those present, not even Luz, had ever seen the Owl Lady this utterly terrified.

While the elderly witch looked, the young Clawthrone took a harsh and haggard breath…before an eerie silence that chilled more than the wintery weather reigning over the empty night street. Golden eyes lost their luster, the sheen of Life slowly but inevitably replaced by the dull void.

The five witnesses had just met Death the Being earlier that day…but this was the first time that any of them save Eda had seen Death the Reality. And this hit the Owl Lady the hardest of all.

No words can convey the horror of seeing your teenage self as a separate being. And that lack of ability to be communicated had nothing on seeing your teenage self…being dead. It was too overwhelming to be processed in any manner beyond a shell shocked staring out into space.

Mere moments after the last breath had been taken, Luz reacted. As if a puppet that had its strings cut, she fell. She fell onto her knees, which still didn't quite touch the ground. The human didn't even grasp that as she began to wail and sob and lose any sense of being a cool adventurer. She was just a teenager who had seen the two most awful things imaginable wrapped into one.

The death of a child…and the death of a loved one.

Luz and Logic were only casual acquaintances at the best of times. Doubly so now, given the sight before her. Not even her mentor standing, more like mildly floating, beside her lessened her absolute sorrow. And said mentor was too overwhelmed to fathom anything else, even her beloved crying student.

Luckily for Luz, there was another present who found herself able to act. Amity Blight did act. The falsely green-haired young witch couldn't have said exactly what spurred her on but she really didn't like the idea of this odd, irritating, and truly wonderful human being so sad. Amity took her future fellow Hexside student in her arms and gave her the tightest hug she could. In the back of her mind, the youngest witch noted how good it felt to be this close to the human's warmth. But that was on the backburner. The only thing on her mind was trying to help this unique creature. Her fingers brushed their way through somewhat chestnut brown hair as she whispered some smoothing words. Luz was too far gone to grasp the words but she found that Amity's voice was doing wonders to keep the flood of annihilating despair from drowning her. The calm whispers about their future Azura Book Club in particular buoyed her spirits. Even so, Luz didn't stop crying, as tears like raindrops of cyan glass fell, before vanishing on the ground.

As Luz cried and Amity consoled, something happened that stole everyone's attention. It was enough to cause the tears that fell but didn't stain the dirty street to cease as Luz focused on it.

A flying object pulled by some manner of creature landed at the far end of the street.

Flying vehicles were not uncommon in Boiling Isles, but they were mostly magical staffs for individual witches or winged carriages of some sort for large groups of the magic using humanoids. This craft was none of those, rather it was the kind of thing that shouldn't have been able to fly. And yet it apparently did anyway. It was a sleigh; a sleigh that looked like it had been built of crudely sawn tree trunks laid on two massive wooden runners. It looked ancient and there were faces carved on the wood, nasty crude grinning faces that looked quite out of place.

Four creatures had pulled the sleigh. They were pigs, or at least, everyone assumed they were pigs, unless there was some unknown species of hippopotamus that had pointy ears and rings through their noses. Each of the beasts was huge, grey and bristly. A cloud of acrid mist hung over each of them as if it were a personal raincloud of toxic ether. They didn't look sweet, to say nothing of being even passably charming. Small red eyes with eons of savagery and bloodlust behind them surveyed the empty street. Their gaping maws had tusks longer than a grown man's arm stabbing the air. Rather than the innocent "oink" of modern swine, these creatures that seemed dug up from a time when the world was nastier and smeller went "Ghnaaaarrrwnkh!"

The primeval pigs were all male. This was proven when one of them urinated on a streetlamp. A tremendous cloud of yellow steam arose from the corroding metal.

They were the sorts of terrifying creatures that scared parents away but had children gravitate towards them like flies to jam. Luz saying how cool they looked proved this.

Before any of the others could question her on this, two figures left the parked sleigh.

Slowly, they started to make their way through the only partially illumined night street towards the gathered group of those observing from a different time. Of the two, it was the one on the left, walking with a stride of effortless confidence, which grabbed the eye.

Said figure on the left was several feet taller than the one on the right. As he approached, the random placements of light via street lanterns offered suggestions of his appearance. He wore mostly bright red clothing with furry white trim, including a large covering hood. As he walked, the figure in the red hood adjusted something around his stomach. The mortal witnesses all realized, against all odds, that this was a pillow under the coat.

A pillow meant to mimic a round, jolly belly for a being that had no belly, jolly or otherwise.

Most of the taller figure's face was hidden between the heavy hood of his red coat and a long white beard that looked artificial. Not much more than the eyes were visible. But that was enough. There was no mistaking those eyes, or rather those shining sapphire sockets.

Luz had seen innumerable oddities since arriving in the Boiling Isles, but nothing—not a centaur with his face on his chest, not puppeteer demon Adegast, not Eda in her owl beast form—could have topped the sight slowly walking down a darkened alleyway. It was a sight striking enough to briefly lift her from her state of absolute despair.

Death dressed as some kind of Santa Claus.

COME ON, ALBERT. That unmistakable voice called out from the dressed up Death, ensuring that there could be no doubt that this was the Death from this point in the past. The five being undetectable to the Past turned all at once and saw Death standing beside them even as his past self went about whatever business he was undertaking.

Alongside said Past Death's right was the other figure. He was far less impressive. For one thing, he was human. For another, he was a skinny and unpleasant looking old man. And finally, he was wearing the kind of get-up that belonged on an elf who had been turned away from Father Christmas' workshop: gaudy green clothing that looked more like old pajamas than anything else, matching pointy hat, and obviously fake elf ears.

"You know you're not supposed to do this sort of thing, Master," the sad elf, Albert it seemed, called out as he struggled to keep pace. "You know what happened last time."

THE HOGFATHER CAN DO IT, THOUGH.

Luz pondered what that meant. It sounded like a title, like President or Archmage or something.

The four witches all knew the legend of the Hogfather. Back in times long past, in the deep Winters, the people of old feared that Spring might never again come, so they gave bloody sacrifices of hogs to the Hogfather to ensure the sun as they knew it would arise again and bring back Spring's warmth. In the thousands of years since, on Hogswatchnight, the now literal spirit of the holiday traveled to bring gifts to all the children, or at least, those who believed in him.

Luz knew none of that but she picked up on the superficial similarities to Old Saint Nick. Though that left her in the dark as to what Death of all beings was doing here dressed like this.

"But… poor little match girls dying in the snow is all part of the spirit of Hogswatch, Master!" said Albert desperately. "I mean, people hear about it and say, 'We may be poorer than a disabled banana and only have mud and old boots to eat, but at least we're better off than the poor little match girl,' Master. It makes them feel happy and grateful for what they have got!"

I KNOW WHAT THE SPIRIT OF HOGSWATCH IS, ALBERT.

Saying nothing more, Past Death at last reached the steps to Thimble's Pipe and Tobacco Shop. He looked down at the tiny shape under the falling snow.

Death, no matter if Past or Present, had a perfect memory. He remembered…everything.

Everything that had ever happened, a good chunk of the things that would someday happen…and all of the horrible things he had seen before being required to do his Duty over the many eons.

The End of All Things knew that to tinker with the fate of one individual was unfair and wrong. Everyone had one life to make their own. No one single person warranted any special treatment. To grant it could destroy the Disc in ways even Death couldn't know. He knew that children died all the time. It was the way things were. He knew these things. The knowledge was built into him.

But now, at this moment, to the tall skeleton in the red coat with a pillow tied around where a belly should have been, he realized…all of that was so much horse elbows.

As sockets shimmering with sapphire stars kept staring, Past Death reached into his coat and pulled something out. An hourglass trimmed in red wood with markings along it that suggested either the hooked talons or the wide-eyed and small beaked stare of an owl. A life-timer.

Along the top was a name embossed in gold, with a sort of erratic flourish to the letters.

EDALYN CLAWTHORNE.

To the shock of none of the witnesses, there was no sand in the top chamber left to fall. Everyone from another time watched the scene under the street lantern very intently.

The skeleton dressed as a stand-in for Santa Claus touched the top chamber with a finger. A blue spark flashed across.

Nothing changed and yet all of Reality seemed utterly different somehow. There hadn't been any sound or movement but there was the intangible and abstract suggestion of both on an unfathomable scale. It felt as if the Totality of Existence had taken a lungless breath, not too dissimilar to the fade-in that signaled all Substantiality being altered whenever Death "spoke."

The previously empty glass vessel was instantaneously flooded with fresh sand.

The adolescent Eda's body released a ragged gasp as the breath of Life returned to her.

"You ain't really allowed to do that," said Albert, feeling wretched, perhaps even guilty.

THE HOGFATHER CAN. THE HOGFATHER GIVES PRESENTS. THERE'S NO BETTER PRESENT THAN A FUTURE.

The Death of the Past scooped up the girl and strode to the end of the alley. The snowflakes fell like angel's feathers.

The five still living ghosts of Hogswatch Past stood their opened mouthed at what had just occurred before them. Nothing in any of their expressions suggested any opinions they had on the events. They would need time to process the magnitude of what they had just witnessed.

And their bewilderment had nothing on the slack-jawed countenance of the held child. Her huge golden eyes, so weary and dark around the edges by the signs of lethal exhaustion but glowing so brightly at their center with the spark of renewed life, looked upward at her unexpected savior.

"I…I didn't think you were real…" Past Eda said softly, her voice seeming miles away.

Past Death ceased walking and regarded the little girl in his arms. AND NOW?

"I…you don't–you don't look like you're supposed to…I see strings on your beard, but…I don't know if I should be scared or impressed…I don't know if I should laugh or wet my pants…"

JOLLY GOOD. I LOVE SEEING THE LOOK OF THAT ON YOUR LITTLE FACE, EDALYN. THAT IS BELIEF. AND IT WARMS MY RIBCA–ER, I MEAN HEART. YES, HEART. I DO HAVE ONE OF THOSE, YOU KNOW. BEATS AND EVERYTHING.

Past Eda gawked at the figure before her, showering him in the kind of look he liked so much. Then she thought of something that was probably rude somehow but as usual, she didn't care. "You mean it isn't my mom and pop who–?" she started to inquire.

OH, YES, said Past Death, cutting her off, with what almost sounded like sarcasm, I'M SURE YOUR PARENTS ARE JUST IMPATIENT TO BANG THEIR ELBOWS IN TWELVE FEET OF NARROW UNSWEPT CHIMNEY. SO MANY DON'T BOTHER TO CLEAN THEM.

The skepticism of the young child found itself unable to counter that logical reasoning. After all, Past Eda knew that she certainly would never want to be all crammed up and covered in soot.

For that matter, so did Luz, even though she thought she knew the truth about Santa Claus.

To say nothing of Amity, who had been pointed blank told as much about the Hogfather by her elder siblings, both of whom suddenly looked as if they had been conned out of all of their money. Somehow, that made the youngest Blight child feel a little bit better.

The little grumpy looking man in the tacky green elf costume nudged the imposing Hogfather. "Uh…Master…remember, they're supposed to thank you," he said.

Past Death turned to the shorter fleshy man. ARE YOU SURE? PEOPLE DON'T, NORMALLY.

"I meant they thank the Hogfather," Albert hissed. "Which is you, right?"

AH, YES, OF COURSE. The apparently forgetful Hogfather said before turning back to Past Eda. AHEM. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO SAY 'THANK YOU.' FOR YOUR GIFT, I MEAN.

Past Eda blinked a few more times. "Thank…thank you…"

AND BE GOOD. THIS IS PART OF THE ARRANGEMENT.

The look on Past Eda's youthful face showed she didn't necessarily like that concept but she nodded in the affirmative regardless, being unwilling to argue with the guy who resurrected her.

THEN WE HAVE A CONTRACT.

Despite her youth, the teenager already knew she truly hated that loathsome word…'contract.'

I SHALL TAKE YOU ON MY SLEIGH BACK TO THE BOILING ISLES ONCE I FINISH MY JOURNEY AROUND THE DISCWORLD. AND YOU WILL HAVE YOUR FILL OF THE BISCUITS AND SHERRY LEFT FOR THE HOG–ER, ME, BEFORE YOU GET HOME.

"Uh…Master…" Albert said before whispering something into an earless spot of Past Death's skull.

ER…NEVER MIND ABOUT THE SHERRY. YOU ARE TOO YOUNG FOR THAT, IT SEEMS. Past Death paused. HONESTLY, THAT IS FOR THE BEST. CHILDREN AND INTOXICANTS RARELY PRODUCE HARMONIOUS RESULTS. BUT YOU SHALL HAVE ALL THE BISCUITS. BISCUITS ARE GOOD, ESPECIALLY THOSE WONDERFUL BISCUITS WITH CHOCOLATE IN THEM THAT ARE BAKED WITHOUT MELTING IT.

The absolute End of All Things dressed as a beloved gift-giving holiday spirit paused once more.

YOU WOULDN'T HAPPEN TO KNOW HOW THAT IS DONE, WOULD YOU? HOW IT DOES NOT MELT DESPITE BEING BAKED IN A RATHER HOT OVEN?

The teenage Eda blinked a few moments, before moving her head in a way to show she didn't.

A PITY. ALL WELL. I SHALL FIND THE ANSWER ONE OF THESE DAYS.

Past Eda looked at the bizarre and slightly intimidating vehicle parked in the middle of the street. Then her golden eyes focused on the beasts that pulled the thing. There was a tremendous cloud of yellow steam and the sounds of metal buckling and bending. "I think your pig–?" she began.

YES, I KNOW THAT, Death interrupted, ALL OVER THE STREETLIGHT, YES. THEY DO THAT, YOU KNOW. THAT'S ONE OF THE THINGS ABOUT REAL PIGS. HO, HO, HO.

The all-consuming awe that had dominated the child's golden eyes was finally starting to recede. In its stead was a slightly lesser version of the more cynical stare the troublemaker had perfected.

To his horror, Past Death knew exactly what was occurring and was utterly powerless against it. Most living things on the Disc developed a convenient and selective blindness that came with the intimation of personal mortality. Put simply, being able to fathom one's eventual death made them unable to see Death until it was their time…or if they had some kind of magical power. However, one other group could see him with no issues. Children.

True, this Eda was technically on the verge of her teenage years, but that was no guarantee. Teenagers were usually scared of him but there were always some late bloomers in the mix. And any children in general often made Death feel a little embarrassed and in need of reinforcements.

Past Eda paused. "Your 'Ho, Ho, Ho' doesn't sound right. It's not…uh…lively enough…"

As Past Death had feared, Past Eda didn't seem that scared of him. Not really.

The Hogfather uttered a rumbling groan like thunderheads slamming onto cement blocks. THAT HAS PROVEN TO BE DIFFICULT TO MASTER. IT'S BEEN CHALLENGING TO MIMIC A BIG BELLY LAUGH WHEN YOU DON'T HAVE A–ER, I MEAN…NEVERMIND.

Past Eda's attention soon drifted to something that had been said before tips about the most effective way to laugh avuncularly and the piddling habits of swine who most surely existed. The youthful countenance so recently refilled with life became considerably more dour and grim. Her mind buzzed with the lightning storms of thought that recalled many recent painful memories.

A duel with her sister. A transformation. An inability to know how dangerous she might be.

THAT WON'T DO AT ALL, said Past Death, apparently noticing the child's bleak expression. THIS IS HOGSWATCH. CHILDREN LIKE YOU SHOULD BE HOME AND HAPPY.

"But…what if home isn't happy? What if…things are…bad there?" Past Eda said, her voice sounding the softest it had ever been, the most weighted down by a sorrow far beyond her years.

Past Death was silent. A breeze carrying some snowflakes flew past him on the empty street. I DON'T BELIEVE IT'S THE HOME THAT'S THE PROBLEM, IS IT YOUNG EDALYN?

Past Eda didn't say anything. But truthfully, she didn't need to. The look on her face said it all. Said face was more a kind of fleshy painting to the deep sorrow and dread that was alive in her. The fear of what she later grasped to be a curse was just as potent now as it was when she feld. Sure, she was an unapologetic bad girl who loved getting into trouble and giving annoying adults big headaches, but she had never wanted to actually hurt anyone. And there was no way she could stop herself if she turned into a raging owl-beast and…well, she didn't want to dwell on it. However, as was often the case when a person didn't want to dwell on something, that was exactly what she did. Eda found herself unable to think of anything else in the whole wide world.

At least, until a sound that by all logic shouldn't have existed appeared yet again. Death's voice.

OH BUGGER THIS, Past Death said after a lengthy consideration. I'M ALREADY BENDING ONE RULE TONIGHT WITH YOU, SO WHERE IS THE HARM IN BENDING ANOTHER?

Past Eda had no idea how to respond to that, so she said nothing.

WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO TELL YOU A SECRET, YOUNG EDALYN CLAWTHORNE, EVEN IF YOUR CONSCIOUS MIND WOULDN'T REMEMBER IT?

"If I can't remember it, then what's the point?"

YOUR CONSCIOUS MIND WOULDN'T REMEMBER, BUT YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS WOULD. YOU WOULD BE LEFT WITH THE IMPRESSION OF THE MEMORY BUT NOT THE CONTENTS OF THE MEMORY. WOULD YOU LIKE TO HEAR THE SECRET?

After giving it a little thought, Past Eda nodded.

THERE WILL COME A DAY MANY YEARS FROM NOW WHEN YOU WILL BE AT PEACE WITH YOUR CURSE. IT WILL NOT BE THE AFFLICTION YOU BELIEVE IT TO BE. AND IT WILL EVENTUALLY LEAD TO THE GREATEST HAPPINESS YOU SHALL KNOW. BONDS OLD AND NEW WILL BE FORMED THAT WILL BE WORTH THE PAIN.

The golden eyes of the resurrected child said so much while her mouth hung open. Within those glittering spheres was a furious storm of clashing emotions, of confusion and doubt and hope. Gradually, a shaky and uncertain smile started to stretch itself across her youthful face.

The Owl Lady from the future found her eyes shifting from her past self, before falling on Luz, whose big beautiful brown eyes were laser focused on the vignette from a prior time playing itself out. Future Eda's semi-transparent face showed a smile. The more experienced witch named Eda didn't know what the Death of the Past was referring to with the 'bonds old' quip but she had a pretty damn good grasp of what was meant by new bonds. And she agreed very much.

NOW THEN, said Past Death. LET US GO AND SLEIGH THAT NEGATIVITY. HO, HO, HO.

Past Eda blinked. Sockets with bright blue stars in them stared at her as all remained still.

THAT WAS A PUNE OR A PLAY ON WORDS, Death of the Past said after a painfully long moment that had long since stretched into awkwardness. I DON'T KNOW IF YOU–

"Hahahahaha!" Past Eda laughed with a gusto that caught the near omnipotent Death off guard.

SEE, ALBERT, the towering skeleton from a prior point in Time said to the little man in the bad elf costume. SHE NOTICED MY FORAYS INTO VERBAL BANTER.

"Right, right. I'm laughing like hell deep down, sir."

VERY DEEP, I WOULD GUESS.

Past Eda laughed even harder.

As the child in his arms laughed away, Past Death turned his head without any warning towards the gathered ghosty group who had witnessed this whole episode. Present Death didn't so much as flinch, despite all those who still had a pulse doing enough flinching to make up for it.

Past Death said nothing after a few long seeming seconds. Then his head gave a slight nod, just barely exposing the string of his beard. Present Death returned the gesture just as minisculely.

As the resurrected child kept laughing, Past Death carried her away to her present, to her future.

Present Death, the four witches, and one human then disappeared once more from History.

Back to the present, and to their futures.


And that was the third chapter! As always, I hope you all enjoyed it!

This chapter was a lot of fun to write! As this chapter might show, Hogfather is one of my favorite Discworld books. And the scene with the poor little match girl is part of the reason why! It's just so emotional and sweet! And it nicely sums up part of what makes the Death of Discworld such a great character. Despite being hilariously stoic and pleasantly inhuman, at his core Death has compassion and dignity befitting his eternal existence.

Fun fact, while I obviously used the scene from the novel, of course, my main inspiration for this scene was the adaptation of this scene from the BBC adaptation of Hogfather. That's where little details like the first ragged breath from the revived Eda came from.

Speaking of which, getting to the obvious…I swapped out Sarah, the match girl from Hogfather with Eda as a child, after fleeing the tournament where she was transformed by her curse for the first time. As I was writing the first chapter, I thought at some random forgotten point, 'What if after fleeing Eda just flew away and ended up all the way in Ankh-Morpork, too scared of her hurting her family to return? And what if that leads to her being the poor little match girl who died but then was given the present of a future?' Not sure why that came to me but I'm not going to complain! Lol

I was initially worried about fitting this into the Discworld timeline, with this implying that the bulk of the Discworld novels have already happened before the events of Owl House. But then I thought…'who cares?' lol. Don't think about it too hard. I sure as heck didn't. Lol

Anyway, did you think I nailed the atmosphere of Ankh-Morpork? And what did you think of Luz's initial 'Force-based' reaction to all of this? Lol

As you can guess, the interaction between Past Death and Past Eda was a delight to write! I'm tempted to go through the bits one by one but I don't want to repeat myself too much. So let me ask, what are some of your favorite moments in this long scene between them?

Anyway, that's about all I have to say about this chapter. I'm planning on there being one more chapter to this story but I have no idea how long it will take for me to finish this. Please be patient as I attempt to flail my writer's block! Lol

Until next time, please read, review, favor, fellow, and spread the word! :)