I do not own Soul Eater or Owl House.

If I did, I probably wouldn't know every line Eda has in canon off by heart.

The forest only grew thicker as Luz chased the owl through the trees. There was at least something of a path, stomped down dead earth and cleared away trees leading deeper and deeper into the woods. The Latina had no idea how such a tiny bird could pull around a sack as big as she was, much less do so at a speed that forced her to nearly sprint just to match… but lo and behold, it did just that, completely disregarding all the physics she had spent so much time trying to wrap her head around.

But even as the trees grew closer together and the path grew more and more overgrown with underbrush, Luz refused to give up the chase even to give herself a chance to breathe.

She was not losing that book. Even if it weren't a first edition, it was a present from Papi. She'd had it for over five years now.

She was getting it back if she had to chase that bird into the next state.

Abruptly, the forest around her opened up into a clearing; she skidded to a halt, a chill shooting down her spine as she stared into the doorway of a decrepit house. What was left of the window panes were broken and dusty from years of neglect; the wood of the house was an almost uniform dead grey, bringing forth uncomfortable reminders of a tombstone, half of the boards rotted, the other half splintered and cracked, all of them probably completely unsafe to stand on. Even the roof seemed ready to collapse under its own weight, tiles missing, and several large holes indicating where the structure had failed, either from damage or from the simple march of time, exposing the rafters within.

The owl flew on, completely unfazed, through the open doorway and into the dark beyond.

Luz only hesitated for a second before clapping her hands to the sides of her face with a growl, determination and anger taking over and pushing her forwards, fear overridden completely. She ran across the clearing, leaped over the porch, and into the building without so much as a second glance, heart pounding in her ears so loudly she didn't even hear the door slam behind her.

"Stop adorably hopping away, you-!" she stopped, blinking, "Huh?…"

Whatever she'd been expecting to see upon stepping into the house, it wasn't this; she wasn't in a dark, colourless, musty house that could collapse at any moment.

She was in a deep purple patchwork tent, surrounded knickknacks and oddities of all sorts, stuffed haphazardly into bags, crates and cardboard boxes. Weathered books, random assortments of clothes, mismatched shoes and a broken television were the least bizarre things Luz's eyes fell upon; strange toys and dolls sat on shelves, poked out from piles and hung from the many ropes and rails that hung overhead, all uniquely disturbing in their own ways, most of them sloppily fitted together with limbs and heads that didn't match their bodies. Gardening tools leaned against the back of the tent, a fridge stood beside an upturned couch with innumerable gouges in its surface. Plates and utensils sat unsorted in their boxes, and an antique grandfather clock sat silent and motionless right beside a rusty oil drum – and that was to say nothing of all the garbage, toys and paperweights scattered across the cobblestone floor.

Her eyes widened as she saw the doorway she had entered through, standing entirely on its own. A brilliant light shone through the portal, almost blinding, with absolutely no way to tell what lay beyond; the wood was intricately carved, forming a shining golden eye that stared at her with an unblinking intensity, tempting her to touch it to see if it was alive. The edges of the door were carved in flowing patterns akin to wings or petals, though which it was, Luz wasn't entirely sure.

"… whoa… I thought I had a lot of weird stuff," she murmured, absolutely mesmerized by the sheer mishmash of items surrounding her. She picked up an unfortunate lizard plushy with a clothes hanger jammed through his baby doll head, one of his arms replaced with a fork; she could have sworn she saw it move a moment ago, reaching for her, "But this?... this is impressive."

"Finally!" a voice called, "You're back."

Luz's heart nearly leaped into her throat, dropping the doll, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a screech; she turned towards the flap of the tent, quietly pushing it open.

"Well, let's see what we got here," the voice continued, effeminate and flippant; the woman leaned over the table before her, the same owl from before standing over the sack. She was clad in a long, slightly tattered red dress, her silver hair held back by a green tie-on shawl, complete with polka dots…

But her skin was white. Not Caucasian, but almost bleached-bone white, with only a slight tinge giving her any colour to her skin whatsoever in the form of a nearly sickly parchment yellow-grey.

And yet, she was not sickly at all; she moved with a casual ease, raising a wooden staff directly in front of the owl as it flapped up into the air. It landed atop the staff, and she gently patted its head before actually grabbing hold, and twisting the bird in place.

Luz stared, confused as the full rotation was made; feathers bled together into one smooth surface, the talons disappearing into the main body. As the rotation completed, the owl had transformed from flesh and blood and feathers to a wooden carving, wings folded and eyes blank. There were even visible knots in the wood that might have once been feathers, as if the silent bird of prey had never been alive in the first place.

Despite her best efforts, the Latina couldn't hold in her gasp; she'd watched Dad transform his fingers into blades countless times, but this?... this was something else entirely.

The woman began digging through the sack, her long yellow nails in and of themselves looking much like talons as she pulled out the first item, only inspecting it for a second before tossing it with a dismissive "Garbage."

It landed with a crack that made Luz wince; now that she had a better look at it… was that a phone?... yeah, that was a perfectly good new phone, its screen now shattered from the impact it suffered on the cobblestones.

Her eyes shot back to the woman, who now held something else entirely in her hand – a golden ring with the largest diamond Luz had ever seen. A little tacky, sure, but at least it should fetch a good price for the gemstone alone-

"Garbage," the woman once again declared, tossing it without a second thought beside the phone, the gemstone popping out of place upon impact and forcing Luz to restrain a disappointed whine. She was tempted to try and reach for it, but forced herself to stay put, not wanting to give herself away.

The next object the stranger pulled out was immediately illuminated with a light from the heavens, a light that put even the sun to shame; an audible heavenly choir filled the air, and Luz was left staring in awe at what she could only assume was the Holy Grail, golden and perfectly polished with an incredible splendour. Was it possible that the tales of the Round Table were somehow true-

"Garbage," a mild edge of annoyance had entered the woman's voice now, tossing the golden cup. The light from the heavens faded and the choir stopped as if someone had gone and yanked a record out of its player without even turning it off first, undoubtedly scratching the whole vinyl. The grail hit the ground, immediately denting, its perfect polish splattered with dirt and grime, scratched as it skittered across the cobbles and came to a stop at the corner, sitting there like an abandoned Burger Queen cup without a lid or a straw.

Luz stared at it in abject horror, once again restraining the urge to run and scoop it up, "… well, I guess nobody's finding it, now…"

Suddenly, the woman gasped, a note of joy rising in her tone as she pulled out the next item, "Now this…!"

She unfolded the cheap black glasses, and put them on; after a moment, the large, plastic googly eyes fell, dangling from the poorly-attached slinkies, "… this will make me rich!"

Luz felt her head tilt of its own accord, eyes scrunching in confusion. Those could be found in any dollar store in even the most remote of small towns. They were made entirely of plastic and cheap metal and the slinkies didn't even work properly; how were they in any way, shape or form worth more than a phone, a diamond ring, and the Holy Grail?

She didn't have any time to ponder the question, however, as the woman had moved on to the next item in the bag; she inspected the Good Witch Azura novel with an appraising eye, "And this…"

'Please don't throw it, please don't throw it, PLEASE DON'T THROW IT,' the brunette found herself repeating, her hands clenching so tightly her nails dug into her palms through the fabric of the tent flap.

"… eh, it'll make good kindling."

Luz only had an instant to process her horror before the woman held the book over the lit candle that the Latina hadn't noticed before; the small flame licked eagerly at the bottom of the book, and she didn't even try to stop herself.

She rushed forwards, snatching the book right out of the silver haired woman's talon-like fingers, "'SCUSEMESORRYTHAT'SMINETHANKYOU!"

Luz could feel the woman's eyes on her back as she sprinted back for the still open door, the light almost beckoning her back to familiarity and sanity – but before she could get anywhere near it, it slammed shut of its own accord, the sound of a lock sliding into place sending the Latina's heart plummeting like a stone even before the door folded, like some sort of demonic origami sculpture, floating up and away into the shadows above – her sealed exit now hopelessly out of reach.

The harsh clack of heels on the earth echoed in her ears, prompting her to turn; for the first time, it struck Luz how tall this woman was, looming over her in the shade of the tent, the deep purples somehow turning the silliness of the googly-eyed glasses into something truly uncanny.

Then she reached up, pulling the glasses off, exposing eyes of gold. Not hazel, but actual gold, matching the jewel set in the middle of her chest and the single golden fang – a fang – sticking down from her lip. Her brow creased in a severe frown, somehow making her already sharp, predatory features seem even moreso, chin and nose and cheekbones all sharp like knives.

"You're not going anywhere," she growled.

Luz let out a yelp, quickly stuffing the book back into her bag to free up her hands and running to the back of the tent, throwing the fabric up and scrambling underneath. As soon as she was through, she kept running, all thoughts of getting back through the door simply gone. The only thing left in her mind was getting away.

At least, until she noticed the sheer cliff right in front of her.

She skidded to a halt just one step away from the edge, staring down over what would have most certainly been a fatal fall; the ground was thousands of feet below, the rocks she displaced in her desperate attempt to escape taking several seconds to fall out of her sight. She didn't even hear them hit the ground, but had no doubt that they would have shattered or embedded themselves deep in the earth upon impact.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze, and a strange locale stretched out before her, a place stranger than even the picture Papi's descriptions of Death City had painted in her mind's eye. Beneath beige-gold clouds and a purple sky, the sprawling city stretched all the way out to the horizon in a countless number of spires that eventually gave way to an ocean of fuchsia. Moreover, it was hard to tell how many of these spires were constructed and how many were, for lack of a better word, grown; for every house and building that seemed somewhat normal, built from wood and glass and plaster, there was another that had flesh and eyes and teeth. Some even had limbs, a pair of grotesque, spindly arms reaching up from the ground hundreds of feet into the air at the very least, one having houses built into its side and carried between massive claws. Veritable mountains of solid bone stretched up and out of the earth like horns or broken ribs, structures carved into and out of them, and actual oversized femurs were being used to hold up some sort of overpass that stretched out over the city. And above it all, stood what could only be described as a cathedral, its stained glass windows visible even from the cliffside.

And that was to say nothing of the city's inhabitants.

From what Luz could see, not a single person in this place even resembled a human.

Most of them didn't even resemble each other; a hooded man with a tail pulled out an ice cream cone for a creature with purple skin whose head was all mouth… only for the ice cream to spit out a tongue, which proceeded to wrap around the purple person and yank him into a maw with teeth made of frozen vanilla and chocolate. In the background, an oversized bird and a woman with only a head and legs walked past, oblivious or perhaps apathetic to the ice cream's victim, not so much as giving him a second glance. A caterpillar with a man's face and a bowler hat spat out a bird with lips, and they kissed before going their separate ways.

She swallowed harshly, taking a step back from the edge, watching as an actual Dragon circled overhead – only for one of the limbs to snatch it out of the air, and abruptly descend into the city, disappearing from sight entirely, "… what's going on?... where am I?..."

Finally, her eyes locked onto something that looked at least somewhat friendly; the tiny humanoid fluttered on butterfly wings, her skin purple, eyes violet and her hair done up in a manner that resembled a rose.

Luz let out a sigh of relief, "… oh… hello, little fairy… you're not gonna tell me that I've just fallen asleep and I'm dreaming a bit more vividly than usual, are you?"

The fairy's only response was to pull her lips back in a snarl, much, much further back than what should have been possible, exposing teeth that absolutely should not have fit in her mouth as her head tripled in size, screaming, "GIVE ME YOUR SKIN!"

The Latina shrieked, smacking the fairy out of the air; it unceremoniously fell to the dirt, making an audible gurgling sound as its eyes spun, teeth locked onto a particularly large stone.

"Where am I?..." she mumbled, stumbling back and once again staring out at the town, "Did I die?... I don't remember getting hit by a truck, so an isekai is out… am I in the Bad Place?..."

A talon-like hand clapped down on Luz's shoulder, grip strong and unyielding; the silver haired woman stood over her with narrowed eyes, red lips curled down in an expression of distinct disapproval, "You wish."

"Goooooood morning, you two!"

Maka groaned into her hands as Blair's voice rang in her ears, the cat cheerfully sitting on the counter and waving her paw back and forth, causing the pan on the stove to shift in tandem with her motions. Soul was already sitting at the table, fiddling with his phone, inclining his head towards her in greeting.

"… wasn't it you who said that getting up at six in the morning was punishment, Blair?" she grumbled, opening the fridge and pulling out the milk.

"Well, yeah," she smiled, tipping out the pan onto a plate; several pieces of bread fell to the ceramic, all golden brown and paired the scent of freshly cooked eggs filling the room, "But I'm a cat, Maka. I wake up and go to sleep whenever I want."

"So, again," the Meister queried, "Why are you up this early?"

"Oh, fine," Blair sighed, though she maintained her cheer as she returned to her human form, sitting down at the table, "There's a couple reasons, actually. The first being," she raised her hands for effect, "I finally got a job lined up!"

Soul perked up slightly, glancing up from his phone, "No kiddin'?"

"No kidding! I actually start tonight!" the magical cat snatched up a piece of French toast, "You can officially stop calling me a moocher, because I'm going to be bringing cash of my own into our little household, on top of all my savings!"

"… well, I guess it's better than what you've been doing," Maka took a slow sip of milk before reaching for the toast, taking a small piece.

"Hey, why so sullen, Maka?" Blair tilted her head, "I thought you'd be happy to hear I got a job."

"… it's not you," she rubbed the back of her head, closing her eyes, "I've just… had a lot on my mind, the past couple days, is all."

"… is it the whole thing with your teachers?" Blair ventured, "The mission you were given?"

This time, Maka didn't answer, instead reaching for another piece of French toast, as well as the small bowl of icing sugar.

"… you've both been so quiet these past couple days," Blair continued, glancing back and forth between Weapon and Meister, "Is something wrong?"

"I don't think so," Soul shut off his phone, pocketing it before reaching for some of the toast himself, "I think we just… needed to process. That sound about right, Maka?"

"Something like that," she acknowledged, finally taking a bite. Then she blinked, the taste somehow snapping her the rest of the way awake; she stared at the toast in her hand, disbelieving.

"You alright, Maka?" the cat asked.

"… this is good," Maka confessed, "Really good… how is this so good?"

Blair chuckled, leaning back, "My career has taken me to a lot of places. You'd be surprised what I know how to do."

"Clearly," the Scythe Meister muttered dryly, though she failed to completely take any sense of impressed surprise out of her tone; she scarfed down the rest of her toast, and finished off her milk before checking the clock on the microwave.

Ten minutes after six.

"I think we have time to sit down and enjoy some breakfast, Maka," Soul smiled, "We're not late."

"We're still up later than I'd like," she grumbled, "I still haven't checked over the classwork we've missed…"

"Which is one of the other reasons I made breakfast today," Blair assured, "After all the hard work you've done? I'd say you've earned at least one easy morning."

"Really trying to butter me up today, aren't you?" Maka snorted.

"I'm allowed to be nice with no ulterior motives," the cat took a bite of her own French toast, smiling, "… yep. Still got it. Thank you, Eda Clawthorne."

"Eda who?" Soul raised an eyebrow.

"Just an old friend," she waved the question off, "Taught me how to cook."

"Is she a magical cat too?" Maka gave a crooked smile.

"Not quite. She's more of an owl, really."

"Great, magical owls are a thing we have to look out for now," the Scythe laughed, "How many souls do they have? Ten? Twenty?"

"Just the one, as far as I know," she stated, "Don't worry, you won't have to worry about what happened with me happening with her."

"And why is that?"

Blair smiled at Maka, "For one thing, you'd have to find her first."

Maka huffed, but maintained her smile with half lidded eyes, drumming her fingers on the table, "Yeah. I guess so."

Her smile faded, however, as her drumming continued; it wasn't a simple, consistent thrum from her thumb to her pinky, or vice versa. It was slow, gentle beat, one she couldn't get out of her head – and over the past two days, she'd found herself drumming it out with one hand or the other every time they were left idle, letters echoing in her mind with no rhyme or reason that she could recognize.

Right thumb. C.

Right thumb. C.

Right ring. G.

Right ring. G.

Right pinky. A.

Right pinky. A.

Right ring. G.

She changed hands, picking up her final piece of toast in her right hand, and the drumming began anew, her left hand slower and more methodical, but no less perplexing.

Left pinky. C.

Left ring. E.

Left middle. F.

Left ring. E.

Her lips twisted into a grimace. What was up with this pattern?

"Maka?"

She shook herself out of her reverie, clenching her hand, "I'm fine! I'm fine."

Blair was now looking at her with a half lidded eye, concern evident in her expression as the Meister got to her feet, hair whipping back and forth slightly as she began gathering plates, "We should get ready. I'd rather be there a little bit early than risk running late."

"Leaving at six thirty is plenty early as it is, Maka," Soul stated, "It's a twenty minute walk."

"Well then, we'll have an extra twenty minutes to study before class starts," she countered, placing the dishes into the dishwasher, "That hunt for Sid didn't exactly put us ahead. We have a lot of work to do."

She sped into the entryway, throwing on her coat; after a moment, Soul followed her in, pulling on his jacket and headband, Blair leaning back against the doorframe of the kitchen.

"… I'm gonna get some sleep once you guys are gone," she began, clearly not wanting to let them just leave, but also not wanting to pry, "If I'm still asleep when you guys get back, please wake me up. I don't want to be late for my first night on the job."

"We will," Soul huffed, practically swallowing his last piece of toast whole, "Where did you say you'll be working, again?"

"A local bar called Chupacabra's," she grinned, "They need another bartender. It'll be a good chance for me to polish off my skills, though I'll need to do a little practice here. It's been a while."

Maka immediately felt her mood sour, and it must have shown on her face, as Blair's expression slowly dwindled into yet another concerned look, her brows upturned. The Meister looked away, fishing in her pocket for her keys to make sure she had them…

"… Maka? Are you sure you're okay?"

"… I'm fine," she repeated, one last time, the snap in her tone a little more harsh than intended, "Enjoy your nap, Blair."

"… okay. Have a good day, you two."

"You as well," Soul raised his hand in a mock salute, and the two crept out the door, quietly closing it behind them.

Luz was roughly shoved back onto the wooden stool, pulling her knees to her chest as she stared into those golden eyes; the silver haired woman had an almost unnatural focus to her gaze, pupils noticeably dilating and contracting as she looked the Latina up and down, even leaning on one elbow to meet her eye level. Finally, she settled on staring deep into the girl's eyes, unblinking, lips curled down in appraisal as if Luz were just another object to pawn off.

The girl was too terrified to keep her mouth shut; she was immediately babbling, voice high and loud and only barely coherent, "I'msorry! I just wan'ed my book!" she broke her eyes away, squeezing them shut as she extended her arm, "If you're gonna eat my skin, please, just make it quick! Just do it now!"

"Eat you?" the woman's tone was totally dismissive of the idea, "Why would I eat a potential customer?"

Slowly, Luz opened one eye, her jaw loosening and her arm wrapping back around her leg; the woman was smiling now, a broad, encouraging smile that was entirely discordant with the sheer menace she had been putting off earlier.

The girl glanced to either side, taking in the contents of the shelves that stood on either side of the strange woman; unlike everything that was in the tent, which seemed to be in some state of disrepair, most of what was on display here at least appeared to be intact. One set was dedicated largely to various bedside clocks, from a simple alarm clock with a built in radio, to a pair modelled respectively after a pyramid and a tyrannosaurus, with several miscellaneous toys and knickknacks scattered about, including a Rubik's cube and a toy sword. The other shelf was a tad more random, with an oddly well-kept plush doll in a dress sitting beside an unplugged desk lamp, an old desktop beside a monster truck.

Above it all, though, rested a hand painted sign that read, in dark red letters, "HUMAN COLLECTABLES," awkwardly nailed to a lopsided hockey stick attached to the tent, a worn Number 1 wearable hand pointing straight down towards the stand.

The woman reached under the table, pulling forth a single, lime green croc, "Can I offer you a human foot, filled with holes?"

Before the Latina could answer, she had already set the croc down, pulling out a stick of deodorant, unscrewing the end, "A bar of green human candy? Oh, oh!" she ducked under the table, pulling up a blank, handheld television, "How about this black shadow-box, that reflects only sadness?"

Luz stared into her reflection in the tiny television, eyes wide; all at once, it clicked into place. The random assortment of items, the way this woman chose googly eyed glasses over a miniature computer, actual jewellery and a potentially priceless artefact…

'... this lady has no idea what half of this stuff even is,' she realized, 'Let alone how much any of it's actually worth or how it even works. She's running a flea market stand of used junk and garbage gathered by an owl.'

Despite the potential danger she might be in, despite the former hostility the woman had shown in that fierce expression, the sheer absurdity of the situation was too much for Luz to handle. She tried, and failed, to stifle a giggle before erupting into laughter – and the woman's confused expression only made her laugh harder.

When she finally settled down, she hopped off the stool with a smile, "That's not all it can do. Here, lemme see."

She tested the power button, only for nothing to happen; nodding, she popped open the small lid on the top.

"Thought so," she bobbed her head, "Empty. Do you have any batteries?"

"… batteries?" the woman parroted, tilting her head.

Luz glanced back and forth, getting up on tiptoe before her eyes finally fell back down to the table, "Oh! You do!" she cheerfully reached into the small bowl labelled "Human Candy!" pulling out the two double As from amidst the paperclips, buttons and coins.

"Hey-!" the woman snapped, but before she could stop the girl, Luz had already inserted them both into the television, and pressed the power button again.

Immediately, it came to life, all neon lights and some fast paced, auto-tuned parody of disco music as a man in a leotard rapidly danced with weights in his hands, shouting encouragement as he moved.

"Voilà!" Luz said, setting the television back on the stand.

It didn't take long for the noise to begin drawing attention; creatures of all sorts began emerging from other stands and around corners, drawn in by the sudden burst of noise and colour.

"Whoop," Luz slipped off to the side, getting out of the way as the woman stared in pure bewilderment, approached by cat people, three eyed lizards, a four eyed dog, what the Latina could only describe as an imp, and more; they were staring in wonderment at the tiny TV, murmuring among themselves before one of them shouted, holding a stack of papers in his tiny fist.

"I'll pay forty snails for the screaming box!"

"I'll give you a hundred!"

"Can I eat the tiny person inside?"

The cacophony only grew louder as each creature shouted over the other, growing into an overwhelming drone of noise that actually made Luz's ears sting, each of them trying to shove money at the woman so they could have the box for themselves; she was quick to capitalize on the opportunity, grinning, "Alright, alright, slow down everyone. Screaming box goes to the highest bidder. Highest bid I heard was a hundred snails! Do I hear a hundred ten!? Hundred ten, anybody, hundred ten!?"

The woman continued to raise the price as more and more people kept raising the bid, Luz quickly getting lost amidst all the noise; when it was finally over, the box was taken away, and the woman cheerfully counted out the papers and shell-like coins as she spoke to the rest of the crowd, "Go ahead and browse! That box isn't the only human treasure I've collected over the years!"

Eventually, she set what the tanned teen could only assume was money into what looked like some combination of cash register and typewriter, shooting the girl a smile, "… what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't," she snickered, "But I'm Luz. Luz Noceda."

"Luz…" the silver haired woman pursed her lips, then snapped her fingers, baring her teeth in a self-satisfied grin, "Aha! Spanish," she chuckled, crossing her arms, "Took me a second there. Means 'Light,' doesn't it?"

Luz sputtered, startled; of all the responses she had been expecting, that had not been among them, "… y… yeah. How'd you…?"

"Spent a few years in south-western Spain," the woman said offhandedly, "Had to pick up a couple languages to really make life there work. It was worth it, though – or at least it was, until the Reaper's little goons started sniffing around," she snorted, "Damn Scythes…"

"… Reaper?" Luz asked, voice weak, "Scythes?... as in… Death Scythes?"

"Yep."

"… but… that… that means…" Luz murmured, now openly staring into those intense golden eyes.

"Eh, all that's neither here nor there," the woman brushed the comment off, eyes half lidded, "Credit where credit's due – that was pretty clever. For a human, at least."

Luz's mind stopped dead in its tracks. Her heart hammered against her ribs as the pieces of the puzzle slid together, eyes so wide they stung and her breaths quick and shallow.

The owl on the staff – once flesh and feather, now solid wood.

The folding door, obviously magical.

The brilliant golden eyes and the knowledge of Death Scythes…

"… you're a Witch," she realized, uncertain if the rising squeal in her chest was one of elation or fear.

"Oh, wow," It was the Witch's turn to blink, an eyebrow climbing her forehead, smile widening, her tone now genuinely impressed, "You really are clever, aren't you?"

She reached up, and pulled off the shawl, her silver hair now completely loose; from the way it stuck up over her head and seemed to float rather than flow down her back, it seemed to behave more like feathers than actual hair, smooth and silky at the edges, but stiff and bristled at the center of each hair, making it stick up a bit at the base before eventually being weighed down at the end. It was even toned differently, a long streak of grey that bordered on white cutting through the silver on either side of her head. Her large ears perked up, ending in sharp tips rather than in rounded edges the way a normal human's would, all only adding to the very not human, very much magical air the woman seemed to exude. Her sleeveless, ragged dress was both rough and elegant, her skin unnatural without being sickly, her jewellery gaudy without being hideous – and all adding to a visage most definitely predatory.

"… oh my God," Luz breathed. She should have been afraid. She should have been terrified. She should have run screaming from the woman in front of her right then and there – but she did not. Elation won out over fear, and she felt her lips curl up in a smile so broad it actually hurt as she struggled not to scream outright, "OhmyGodohmyGodOHMYGOD-! You're an actual Witch!"

"Not quite the reaction I was expecting. You're not scared?"

"Scared!? I'm ecstatic!" Luz threw her arms out in an attempt to show her sheer excitement, "I'm talking to a real-life Witch! I never thought I'd get the chance!"

"Ooooh, I see…" the woman began, her tone mischievous, "Well, I guess it'll make you happy to know you're not talking to just any old Witch, either," a grandiose flare entered her voice as she stepped up onto the table.

"I am Eda, the Owl Lady!" she declared, "The most powerful Witch on the Boiling Isles!"

The crowd around the table, who had all been examining and fiddling with objects, only seemed to add to the draw this woman had, their clamouring seeming to shift into something akin to a cheer; Eda basked in it, a hand on her chest as she continued, "I am respected, feared-!"

"Busted!"

A sudden gruff voice accompanied by the sound of breaking wood; the table collapsed under a heavy blow, Eda needing to quickly shift her weight to not fall with it, instead perched atop the very edge, her smile gone and frown severe.

The crowd immediately dispersed with a scream, everyone running in a different direction; within seconds, only one man remained, not quite as tall as the Owl Lady, but much, much more broad, his heavy chainmail gambeson taking his rotund, but powerful form and making it seem even heavier. Thick leather gloves accompanied a beak-like iron helm, a white shoulder-length cape wrapped around his shoulders and a heavy sword hanging from his belt.

"Eda the Owl Lady!" he shouted, holding up a parchment, "You are wanted for Misuse of Magic and Demonic Misdemeanours!"

"… Witch criminal?" Luz whispered, still in awe of the scene unfolding before her.

The massive guard reached out to grab her by the arm, "You are hereby ordered to come with me to the Conformato-"

Eda shifted her weight back, slipping out of his reach; as she did so, her broken half of the table flipped up, striking the guard in the chin and sending him sprawling onto his back. She hopped back to the ground, seeming only mildly annoyed, "Would you guys stop following me around? I haven't done squat."

The guard groaned, pushing himself up with a glare of his dark blue eyes, "You just assaulted a member of the Bonesborough Imperial Guard!"

"Uuuuuh, no I didn't," she pointed, smugly, to the broken table, "All I did was get off the table. Not my fault it sprang up and smacked you."

"You shifted your weight so it would do that!"

"You can't prove that. Besides, I'm not seeing any witnesses around."

"There's one right here!" he grabbed Luz by the hood, hoisting her off the ground with a yelp, "Moreover, she's coming too!"

"Whoa, wait!" the Latina protested, "What did I do!?"

The guard glanced at her, "Fraternize with a criminal."

"W-What!?" Luz squirmed, trying to slip out of his grasp without tearing her hood, "But-but I- I didn't know she was a criminal!"

"Alright, alright, fine. You win," the red-clad Witch huffed, reaching under her stand, "Just lemme get my stuff."

Eda's next motion was so fast Luz had only barely caught it, despite looking right at her; an ear-splitting crack rang out as the staff collided with the guard's helm hard enough to dent the metal plating. He was knocked clean off his feet, his grip on the girl slipping as he flew back across the cobblestones and crashed into another stand, scattering merchandise throughout the alleyway.

The Owl Lady held up her staff, spinning it between her fingers before slamming the tip into the ground, golden lightning shooting out from her body and into every object around her.

Luz let out a yelp as she fell, throwing her arms up to protect her head from the impact; it jarred through her bones, her jaw clicking shut with a sharp pain that gradually faded into an ache. A groan escaped her as she pushed herself up, carefully picking up her book and slipping it back into her bag before looking up once more.

A golden glow had surrounded Eda's belongings, lifting everything, from the shelves to the clocks and toys to the tent itself, clean off the ground. It all floated in the air, the tent deconstructing itself, the poles and ropes and fabrics coming loose and laying themselves flat across the unravelled purple.

"Couch… fridge… generator… ah!" she reached back into her hair, pulling out a key – a key with the same eye and design as the door that had earlier floated out of Luz's reach, "Can't forget this!"

She pressed the eye as if it were a button, and the door flew into the pile of objects. The purple sheet wrapped around it all in a gigantic bundle before shrinking as Eda clenched her fist, compressing into a much smaller bundle, this one the size of a backpack and tied into a knot at the top. She slipped her staff through the top, an ecstatic grin on her face as she shouted, "Follow me, human!"

Luz did not have to be told twice. Even as the guard began to stir, moaning, she was already hot on Eda's heels, the two running through the now empty flea market at a breakneck pace, the sound of harsh clanking armour soon echoing behind them.

"What did you do that has that guy so angry at you?!" the girl shouted, trying to keep the panic out of her voice, "What was he going to do to me!?"

"Ha! Not important, kid; I won't let him hurt you," again, those eyes fixed on her, unblinking, the Owl Lady's breaths entirely even, "A human like you is much more valuable to me alive than dead."

"Wait, what's that supposed to meaaaaAAAAAA-" the question was quickly replaced by a scream as Eda wrapped an arm around her waist, and, howling with excitement, jumped. Easily, she propelled herself ten, twenty, thirty feet into the air from physical force alone, carrying Luz with her. Her staff came to life, the owl's eyes glowing and the wings unfurling as she slung her legs across, Luz plopped unceremoniously in front of her.

Had the Latina not squeezed her eyes shut, she would have seen the guard shaking his fist at them in impotent rage before vanishing from view entirely, the flea market, and the city itself, quickly shrinking into the distance as the Witch's staff carried them up into the magenta morning sky.

"… that was a little harsh, don't you think?"

"Hm?" the Scythe Meister cocked her head, green eyes drifting towards her partner.

"To Blair, I mean," he clarified.

She snorted, turning away, "Why do you care?"

Soul frowned, leaning forwards on his desk with his chin on his arms, "Just seems like she's not the person you should be taking your frustrations out on, is all."

"Hm."

That was the only response Soul needed to know that he wasn't going to get anywhere with her on the subject.

He sighed, watching as she turned the pages of her notebook; it wasn't exactly hard to guess what was setting her off, even amidst the thoroughly unpleasant chaos of their shared remedial lessons.

After all, the idiot was coming back today.

His nose scrunched up in disdain; every time Soul had the dubious pleasure of having to speak to Maka's sorry excuse for a father, he was always presented with either some thinly veiled threat, or a direct one – always made to discourage the Scythe from making any romantic moves on his partner.

Except Soul never felt particularly threatened by the Death Scythe. If anything, he just felt thoroughly annoyed by the guy, tuning out half of what the red-headed teacher had to say and responding to the other half with mild, half-baked sass, not once considering the man worth the effort of truly scathing commentary.

He had some standards, after all, and Maka's father had already hit rock bottom.

Kicking a man while he was down just wasn't cool.

He could only imagine how Maka felt, though; her resentment of the man was far beyond disdain, and it bled through into everything she did whenever she had him in mind. Even mentioning the bar the Death Scythe frequented, as Blair had earlier, was enough to completely ruin Maka's day, rendering nearly every comment to leave her mouth snide and waspish.

… and yet, somehow, the thought of Maka's father led him to the image of someone else entirely.

Her skin was almost as deep a brown as the dark chocolate of her hair; it was cut short, but not to the point of it being a military crew cut, since there was still enough length that she seemed to have a permanent case of bedhead, as if she'd cut it just short enough that she wouldn't have to brush it out. A pair of dark studs were present in her ears, and her brown eyes were bright with excitement, her expression seeming caught in an eternal grin of joy. He couldn't quite place her age, but if he had to guess, he'd have said about a year or two older than himself at most.

It was someone he had never even seen, but somehow, he knew at least her name.

Luz.

He felt his mouth draw out into a thin line; ever since that night at Stein's laboratory, he hadn't been able to get the girl out of his head, or at least not completely. The feelings of anxiety she stirred seemed more attached to her image than anything that belonged to him; a strange cocktail of unease, resentment and guilt, all projected onto his own emotions somehow, making it difficult for him to make any judgements of his own.

It was not lost on Soul that she had the same name as whoever it was Maka had been talking to on the phone in the days leading up to the remedial lessons.

He didn't know any context beyond that... but…

"Good morning, Maka, Soul."

He snapped awake, suddenly distinctly aware of how close he'd been to dozing off; he clutched his head with a groan before looking up, meeting Tsubaki's gaze. Black Star stood several steps behind her, unusually quiet.

"Morning, Tsubaki, Black Star," Maka gently closed her book, setting it aside.

"How are you two this morning?"

"Exhausted," Soul muttered.

"Good," Maka kept her tone neutral, "Good… what about you two? I haven't seen you since you woke up at Doctor Stein's lab."

Black Star snorted, dropping down into his seat muttering under his breath. Tsubaki sighed, sitting down in turn with her arms wrapped around her stomach, her smile fading, "We've been… coping."

A pang of uneasy guilt shot through Soul's stomach; they'd spent most of the night in that laboratory, waiting as Stein tended to the shinobi pair, using his Soul Wavelength to heal their wounds.

Their panic upon awakening had been expected, but no less difficult to handle; Black Star had come out of unconsciousness swinging for the fences, destroying several beds and a good deal of expensive equipment before Sid had managed to pin him down, and Tsubaki hadn't been much better, even if she was vastly relieved to see her partner was alive and well.

It had taken a call to Lord Death for an explanation to finally get them to settle down – and even then, it hadn't put them fully at ease.

Not that Soul could blame them, really.

He hadn't even been the one to experience it, and he could still see Black Star laying in a pool of his own blood, Tsubaki falling to the ground unconscious…

To say he hadn't been frightened – or that he hadn't since had nightmares of a man in stitches and a white lab coat, for that matter – would be a blatant lie.

"… sorry," he murmured, his voice only barely audible.

"It isn't your fault," Tsubaki assured, "You both did what you could."

"We all got tricked," Black Star huffed, arms crossed, "And at least we're still here. We passed, apparently…"

The four fell into an uneasy silence.

"… so," Soul began, "Who do you think they'll bring in to teach us this time? I hear Sid's gonna be getting back into teaching, but he needs to get caught up with the material he missed."

"I'm surprised they're still letting him teach, to be perfectly honest," Tsubaki admitted, "I thought that Lord Death would have mandated that his Soul be collected after the lessons concluded."

"Well, he doesn't have a Kishin Egg Soul," Maka pointed out, "His body is dead, sure, but his actual Soul isn't in any way corrupted. I think as long as that remains to be the case, Lord Death doesn't have any issue with letting Sid stick around – especially since Sid actually requested this, for our benefit."

"Idiot," Black Star leaned back in his seat, hands in his pockets, "You'd think, for all the crap he gives us for making dumb decisions, he'd be a little smarter than that."

"I believe the phrase is 'Do as I say, not as I do,'" Soul ventured, risking a smirk – which only widened when Black Star let out a small snicker, a small smile finally gracing his angry expression.

"Anyways," Maka snapped her book shut in emphasis, "I'm fine with just about anyone at this point, even Von Nonameheim. Just as long as it isn't my Dad-"

The door to the classroom burst open.

A wheeled office chair raced through the doorway, spinning wildly across the classroom floor before finally tipping over, dumping its sole occupant onto his back on the floor, staring blankly up at the notes in his hands through his round glasses, his familiar stitches and lab coat making Soul immediately blanch.

"Alright, students, settle down," the sound of clicking as the man adjusted the screw in his head confirming the Scythe's fears, "I'm going to be your new teacher for the remainder of the semester."

The pit in Soul's stomach only continued to grow.

"Possibly the year."

Now the pit was filling with stones.

"Actually, this may be a permanent assignment for me, we'll see how things turn out."

The clicking of the screw may as well have been the grinding of gears to a halt as Soul struggled to process the declaration; all around him, students were whispering to each other, asking each other if they knew who this man was.

Slowly, he picked himself up off the ground, dusted himself off, and moved to the chalkboard.

"My name is Franken Stein," he stated as he scratched out his name with the chalk, "But you will all either call me Professor or Doctor Stein. Either or, doesn't matter to me. Now open up your biology textbooks to page two ninety three; I'd like to start on the right foot, and there's no better way for me to do that than to start with my personal favourite subject."

Slowly, Soul obeyed, flipping through the book until he reached the requested page.

The instructions for a frog dissection lab stared back at him in one final, condemning confirmation.

"… this is real," he whispered, "I'm not dreaming…"

Maka was pale, eyes shooting from her textbook to the teacher, and back again as Black Star and Tsubaki stared blankly at the man that was now wheeling in a refrigerated cart. Finally, she spoke up, "… guys?"

"… yes, Maka?" Tsubaki answered, sounding every bit as dead inside as Soul felt.

"… I take back what I said," she stated, hugging her arms around her stomach, "I think this is the first time I've ever wanted my Dad…"

Soul's only response was a cold shudder as the scalpels and dead frogs were slowly passed down the desks.

"… this is so not cool…"

Did you know it takes at least three hours if not four to translate less than three minutes of the Owl House's first episode into text?

I didn't.

Did you know that those less than three minutes of the first episode of the Owl House also translate to roughly 4,000 words or more, accounting for variations in language and conversation progression based on changes to the characters from canon?

I didn't.

And now I do.

But I'm hoping to get the first episode wrapped up in the next chapter, so it all evens out. Plus I have a plan to introduce Kid, Liz and Patty - yaaaaay!

... also, here's something I've been wanting to say for a while now, but have been debating whether not to... but I feel I have to, now.

Please, please do not leave one or two word reviews. I do not find reviews such as "Good chapter" or even just "Good" to be particularly helpful to my growth as a writer. If you have something to say, please make it something with a little more substance or meaning.

All that being said, I am legitimately grateful to you all for reading my story at all. Thank you, sincerely, for taking the time to read this story.

Please be sure to let me know what you think! I hope you enjoyed the tenth chapter of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!