Notes: this piece was meant to take place in my Season 2 project, specifically between "What's Past is Prologue" and "The Pleasant Valley Poltergeist," and I wrote this specifically for the occasion of what would've been Vincent Price's 110th birthday. Today also would've been Christopher Lee's 99th birthday, and yesterday would've been Peter Cushing's 108th birthday, as well, so that's why I have Voudini and Byron Befuddle featured in the first scene of this fic, as well.
Lastly, the description of the Greek goddess Nyx later on in the fic is based on her appearance/portrayal in last year's Hades game (which is where Dionysus's Premium Vintage comes from, as well).
Saronic Islands, Greece, Year 35—
The skies above the Saronic Academy of the Magic Arts—lovingly nicknamed what translated to "Terror Tech" by the students—were particularly clear that witching hour. Contrary to the name, the students were, in fact, discouraged from being out and about during the witching hour; they received endless warnings about the dangers of being discovered by mortals—mortals who were brave enough to try to find mages during the witching hour, assuming them to be active then.
Of course, there were exceptions; three years ago, the Academy had seen the entry of a brazen group of young mages into the Advanced Class who repeatedly pushed their luck and bent the rules just far enough to prevent them from breaking. Having just finished their exams for their third year, three of them were blowing off steam during the following witching hour on the roof of their dormitory building, enjoying the clear spring night—and unwinding with a little help from a bottle of Dionysus's Premium Vintage.
Vincent Van Ghoul had been the one to put forth the idea of the jaunt on the roof—Voudini, his closest compatriot, had agreed right away, as had Byron. Boris, on the other hand, couldn't be bothered to get out of bed—but he had been the one to furnish them with the bottle of Premium Vintage as a gift with which to enjoy themselves. As for Miranda and Alisa, well… as audacious as they were, the trio had no desire to test the repercussions of sneaking into the girls' dormitory.
The night air and the wine soon had Vincent extemporizing a poem about Nyx, goddess of the night, as Voudini and Byron listened intently.
Vincent now raised his crystal ball to the night sky.
"See the gems of stars she wears upon her endless locks; they pierce the darkness and illuminate the very paths on which we walk…" He trailed off, however, as a woman was reflected in the crystal, wearing a disapproving look on her face.
"Instructor Endora!?" Byron exclaimed.
Voudini turned around sharply to confirm it was really her, and he quietly cursed in Quenya.
The three of them had been a little tipsy, but sobered up in a hurry as they all now faced their teacher, standing at attention.
Endora stood with her arms folded in disapproval.
"Why can't you just throw a feast like everyone else after exams are done?" she queried. "You're supposed to be followers of Athena, not Dionysus!" She frowned at the half-empty bottle of Premium Vintage. "Where did you even get that, anyway?"
"Boris," the three of them replied, in unison.
Endora rolled her eyes in exasperation.
"How did you know we were here, Instructor?" Voudini queried.
"Your version of Orpheus here was so loud in his poetic recitations that the cleaning staff could hear him from halfway across the campus!" Endora informed him, staring pointedly at Vincent.
"…But did they say it was good?" Vincent asked, prompting both Byron and Voudini to facepalm.
And Endora stared at Vincent with an unreadable expression; silently, she acknowledged that a descendant of the feared Asamad Van Ghoul would undoubtedly be capable of far worse than tipsy rooftop poetry sessions, but, nevertheless, she was tasked with the responsibility of making a responsible warlock out of him—regardless of the fact that his powers made hers pale in comparison.
"I have my hands full with you pulling stunts like this and dragging your compatriots into them—what makes it worse is that you're the best students in the history of the Academy!" Endora raised her hands in the air in exasperation.
"…What exactly did we do wrong, Instructor?" Vincent asked, innocently. "There is no rule against stargazing on the dormitory roof." He glanced back skyward. "The Heavens seem so infinite, and even as mages, we are limited in what we can see—how do you expect me to just ignore such majesty that defies description? I felt drawn to it, Instructor."
Endora gave him a sharp glance again. Sheer power and the lackadaisical ways of youth did not make for a good combination. Unless he somehow received a serious wake-up call and learned to be responsible, he was a disaster waiting to happen—and the only reason it hadn't happened yet was on account of the fact that the boy did, mercifully, have a good heart. You wouldn't have caught Asamad marveling at the night skies, that was for certain. Still, once again, Endora had to put her foot down, for the boy's own sake.
"That's your excuse for everything you lead the others into, isn't it—that you're drawn to it?" she scoffed. "That's what it's been for the past three years—I thank Demeter that I only have to deal with you for one more! And I pray to all of the Olympians that, one day, you find yourself laden with the worries of looking after a bunch of youngsters who give minimal thought to the future and find themselves drawn to trouble!"
Vincent quickly covered up a forced cough as an excuse to hide the snark he was trying to suppress. Endora gave him another glare, not fooled for a moment.
"…Go back to your dormitory and join the feast tomorrow like everyone else," she ordered, confiscating what remained of the half-empty bottle. She waited for the three of them to teleport before letting out an exhausted sigh and taking a much-needed swig of Premium Vintage for herself.
Back in their dormitory, Boris gave an exasperated glance as the trio returned before turning away from them in his bunk.
"You lost the wine, I presume?" he asked.
"Unfortunately—but we enjoyed half of it before Instructor Endora confiscated it," Voudini informed him. "I assume you can furnish us with more?"
"Not while Instructor Endora is in that mood—or else," he countered.
"That reminds me," Byron said. "Vincent, what was it about what she said that had you so amused?"
"Oh, her little boon she was asking the Olympians for—that I may 'find myself laden with the worries of looking after a bunch of youngsters,' as she put it." He actually laughed aloud that time. "Really—I mean, really—can you honestly see me being the mentor type?"
"No," Boris said, not even bothering to look back. "You live your life at full speed; it's all we can do to try to keep up. No one else could."
"Exactly!" Vincent declared.
"The future can surprise you, my friend," Voudini said. "Boris may be right about you living your life at such a breakneck speed, but you have a kind heart that would compel you to slow down if it meant looking after others."
Vincent leaned his elbow on his bunk, propping himself against it as he glanced back at Voudini with an incredulous look.
"…That'll be the day," he said, at last.
La Fortuna, Costa Rica, Year 2016—
The day was a long time in coming, but Voudini had been right in the end. Endora had gotten her wish fulfilled, though she didn't know it yet. And Vincent had found himself spending the past year and a half looking after a gaggle of short-sighted youngsters—three humans and two dogs.
They were mortals—Endora would not have approved of that fact, but it made no different to Vincent; all five of them had burrowed their way into his heart, and they were his kids now—his family. But as Endora had hoped, they seemed to be drawn to trouble—the latest being a lava monster that had been spotted on a Costa Rican volcano that, if left to its own devices, would surely have caused the volcano to erupt.
That could not be allowed, and so, they had teleported from Tibet to Costa Rica to deal with it. Thankfully, it hadn't taken much to dispatch of it; the youngsters had willingly distracted the lava beast, allowing Vincent to cast a barrage of Blizzara spells to keep it at bay until it was weakened enough for the gang to capture it in the Chest of Demons.
It had been a simple maneuver, and aside from some mild panic in the (literal) heat of the battle, it was almost a milk run (or, as much of a milk run as monster-catching could be). The gang were chatting casually as they left the volcano and headed back to town, trekking across a grassy field as the volcano lumbered behind them as a backdrop. Vincent patiently listened to their chatter, and would have joined in had he not turned around and seen the same, wondrous night sky, ablaze with stars, that he had seen on the dormitory rooftop all those countless centuries ago, with the Milky Way arched over the peak of the volcano.
And, just as he had so long ago, Vincent had to pause to admire the night sky's sheer vastness. He had seen a lot in his two thousand years of life—but the night sky was once again a reminder of just how much there was beyond the reach of even a warlock like him.
"I don't suppose there's anything else for us to do here, right, Mr. Van Ghoul?" Daphne was asking. She paused, as well, as she realized that Vincent wasn't following them, having been distracted. "Mr. Van Ghoul?"
"Like, wow; looks like Mr. V is spaced out—literally," Shaggy mused, earning a few exasperated looks on account of his pun.
"Rhey, Mr. Van Ghoul!" Scooby called.
"Earth to Vince!" Flim-Flam added.
"Hmm? Oh!" Vincent turned back to them with a slightly embarrassed look. "Ah, forgive me; it seems that Nyx has cast her spell upon me once more."
"Who's Nyx?" Scrappy asked, curious.
"The goddess of the night—she's not an Olympian like Lady Pallas, but she's older than all of them. And she puts on quite a show, doesn't she?"
"It is a beautiful view," Daphne agreed. "You just don't see a sky like that in Florida—too many city lights."
"I'll say—you usually gotta head out to the desert for a view like this," Shaggy agreed. "But then it gets so cold in the desert at night; here it's actually nice and tropical!"
"The perfect stargazing weather!" Scrappy grinned.
"Rheah!" Scooby agreed. "Rhe gonna stay and watch the stars for a bit?"
"Hey, I'm all for that!" Flim-Flam said. "No aurora, but there's still a lot to see here!"
Vincent looked back at them again in surprise.
"You'd actually be interested?" he asked.
"Sure," Daphne replied. "Why wouldn't we be?" She smiled. "Or did you forget about our friend Velma—the one who works at NASA? She's been telling us all about space and astronomy since we were kids."
"Yeah, like, she'd be over the moon if she was here right now to see this!" Shaggy grinned, pleased at slipping in a second space pun (once again, he earned a round of exasperated stares for it).
Hiding his amusement, Vincent now conjured a large picnic blanket on the grass, and the six of them reclined on it, making themselves comfortable.
"So, Vince, do the positions of the stars affect certain magic?" Flim-Flam asked. "You know—Venus is ascending into a house or something?"
"Yes, but astrology doesn't work the way you mortals seem to think it does," Vincent informed him. "But that isn't even what I'm interested in."
"Yeah? What is it that you're interested in?" Scrappy asked.
"Honestly, just seeing all of this is enough," Vincent admitted. "It's incredible to think about all that separates us from the edges of the universe—and we can only see a tiny fragment of it. And yet, we are connected to all of it."
"Through magic?" Flim-Flam asked, his eyes wide. "Cosmic energy?"
"In a way," Vincent replied.
"Like, I think I know what you mean," Shaggy said. "There was a quote that Velma always loved from a famous space scientist… Oh, man—what was it again?"
"'We are made of star-stuff,'" Daphne quoted. "Carl Sagan said that."
"That's the guy! Thanks, Daphne."
"I remember Velma quoting that, too," Scrappy recalled. "But what does it mean? We're really made from stars?"
"The short answer is yes," Vincent said.
"Rhwow," Scooby mused.
"The long answer is that everything we know is made of the same atoms that make up all of the stars in the universe," Vincent continued. "Everything that ever was—and ever will be—emerged from the Primordial Chaos of fourteen billion years ago, scattered through space and time by the force of exploding stars."
"And how does Nyx fit into all of this?" Daphne asked, genuinely interested in the melding of science and magic.
"Nyx was born of that same Primordial Chaos that birthed the universe. You mortals call it the Big Bang, I believe. No one really knows what the Primordial Chaos looked like—all we can see is the result of it." He gestured skyward.
"Well, I'd say things turned out alright," Shaggy determined. "For the most part, I mean. Not too crazy about the ghosts and monsters, but the rest of it is pretty good."
"Rheah, it's great!" Scooby agreed, grinning.
"It sure is—and it's all so fascinating!" Scrappy added.
"Yeah, it really puts things into perspective," Flim-Flam chirruped.
Vincent suppressed a quiet chuckle.
"Well, I'm glad you all find this interesting, too," he said. "You know, during my time at Terror Tech, I once composed a poem that was an ode to Nyx. …It was, sadly, rather unappreciated."
"Do you still remember it?" Daphne asked.
"Why do you ask?" Vincent queried.
"I'd like to hear it—I'm sure we all would. Right, everyone?"
The others agreed aloud, unanimously.
Vincent paused for a moment.
"Obviously, I didn't recite it in English, but I do believe I can without anything getting lost in the translation…"
As he had that night so long ago, he raised his crystal ball to the night sky, projecting the image of the goddess Nyx, in her robes of black, gold, and purple, and her dark hair glittering with stars. This time, he was uninterrupted as he began to recite—
"Goddess of Night, consort of Dark,
For eternity, her steps have tread.
Mother to Sleep and also Death
And of the Fates who spin their threads.
From Chaos born at the dawn of time,
Her realm extends beyond unknown.
None shall ever know its reach—
Only she, upon her throne.
She treads at dusk, with all her grace,
And there is none to halt her quest;
Question not—she reigns supreme,
And all occurs at her behest.
Every footfall brings the dark,
And none can halt her firm approach,
E'en Apollo must retreat-
Upon his skies, she will encroach.
And yet, though the dark does spread,
She, benevolent Queen of Night,
From her tresses, bears a gift,
A gift that is from her own light—
See the gems of stars she wears
Upon her endless locks;
They pierce the darkness and illuminate
The very paths on which we walk.
She stays until the dawn will break
And bid Apollo his return.
Softly, her steps steal away,
And thus, the night has been adjourned.
The day shall take its place again
As it always did before,
But when the eve returns, so shall she,
With her noble grace once more."
There was silence as he finished, prompting him to look back at the others to see what they thought, and he was both surprised and moved to see them staring back at him in awe—with all of his vast powers and the magical feats he was capable of, this was what had left them in speechless wonder?
"That was beautiful!" Daphne exclaimed, being the first to find her voice again.
"Yeah! And you said that no one appreciated this?" Shaggy asked, stunned. "Like, wow… Did they hear the same poem we did?"
"And it wasn't just the poem, it was how he said it!" Scrappy added.
"Rheah, who could dislike it?" Scooby wondered aloud.
"Unfortunately, everyone's a critic," Flim-Flam sighed. "But take it from us, Vince—that was great!"
"I'm glad you think so," Vincent replied, unable to fully hide the hint of pride in his voice.
Daphne smiled as she glanced back up at the sky.
"Well, as long as we're still here and Nyx is still putting on her show for us, do you have any other poems for us to listen to?"
The others immediately clamored for more, and, realizing that he had such an enthusiastic audience, Vincent was more than willing to oblige them.
And so, they spent the remainder of the night beneath the stars, listening to more of Vincent's recitations. Anybody else would have questioned why a bunch of mortals would have requested something like this from an all-powerful warlock, but it was never a question for them.
They were family. It was as simple as that.