I do not own Soul Eater or Owl house.

If I did... nah, I'd still be hyped for season 2.

The intense heat of Death City was something the young Reaper always found to be pleasant. Despite the near constant complaints of his companions, and the black, starched suit that was firmly in place, he never found the desert's sear to be stifling; just the opposite, rather.

To him, the heat was invigorating, something that urged him to put a spring in his step. He didn't know if it was because he was a Reaper, and thus did not feel the same sort of discomforts that a human being might, or if he just enjoyed the high temperatures, but in the end, it did not matter. The fact of the matter was, he loved the arid air as much as he loved the perfectly clear blue skies and the perfectly symmetrical silhouette of the academy above them.

He did not, of course, allow that spring to manifest. That would be unbecoming of a Reaper.

He did, however, smile as they made their way up the steps.

"Finally," Liz groaned, "We've gotta find a shorter route to get up here…"

"It wasn't so bad, sis!" Patty was perched on the railing, arms stretched out as she carefully put one foot in front of the other, perfectly managing her balance even as she ascended the steep incline.

"We took a really meandering pace taking the so-called 'scenic route,'" Liz snapped, voice rife with irritation, "Couldn't we have just taken your skateboard, Kid?"

"Come now, Liz," he kept his eyes fixed firmly ahead, "You don't expect me to pass up an opportunity to examine a perfectly sculpted mural, do you?"

"Considering it took us away from the campus? Yes," she tugged at her jeans, "We've been walking in the sun for way too long and now I'm all sweaty. At this rate, I'm gonna get sunburn."

"I did tell you both to invest in sunscreen," Kid reminded her.

"And I didn't think we'd be out here for an hour!" Liz exclaimed, throwing her arms up in exasperation, "I thought we'd be sitting in an air conditioned room by now, not still climbing up these stupid stairs! Didn't your creepy dad at least put in a ramp!?"

"He did," the boy nodded, taking the comment on his father in stride; Liz tended to get snide when she was upset, "The stairs are automated to flatten out into a ramp in case of delivery trucks, or to accommodate those who are wheelchair-bound or similarly impaired."

"Then why aren't they showing up now!?"

"Simple," he couldn't quite restrain the smirk, "You don't need them."

A choke, then a hissing breath of frustration from the elder Thompson gripped the edges of her hat and yanked down, doing her best to hide under its shadow.

"… I'm sorry, Liz," he finally began, turning to face her, "From now on, I'll make an effort to have our trips to and fro more expedient. It was not my intention to make you physically uncomfortable."

She raised the brim of the Stetson slightly, glaring briefly before sighing, "… alright."

"Look," he gestured as the academy's silhouette filled the skyline, "We're almost at the top. We can take a few minutes to sit down once we're out of the sun."

"… we gotta look at a map anyways, figure out where we're going," Liz conceded.

"Think we should just skip the whole day?" Patty asked, hopping down from the railing, "Just walk around, explore?"

"And get into more trouble than we already are?" Liz crossed her arms, though she visibly relaxed as the trio finally entered the shadow, the sun disappearing from view, "I'd rather not."

"Liz makes a good point, Patty… though I do think we should at least figure out the rough location of the Death Room first and foremost," Kid agreed, "It always pays to know in case of an emergency."

"Can't you just call your old man at any time?" Patty cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, but that's more of a private phone call. Knowing where he is physically is a different matter entirely."

They finally came to a stop at the top step; he blinked at the gathering of figures that had positioned themselves around the entrance, an air of tension surrounding them all.

Two boys, each as different as could be; the one with white hair lay back against the wall with a casual ease, his attire absolutely atrocious in both its colour scheme and its lack of symmetry. Kid already had to bite down on his urge to stride over, hoist him to his feet by his lapels, and put everything into place, hands itching to unstitch everything and then sew it back together if need be.

The other was perched atop the great red spike above, grinning broadly as if under the impression that he was cleverly hidden, the only asymmetrical thing about him beyond his utter nightmare of a haircut being the star shaped tattoo on his shoulder – though the significance of the mark actually made the Reaper think twice. Perhaps it would be better if that mark were removed, rather than copied to the other side.

The pair of girls, however, were a bit more subdued; the taller of the two had long black hair, the asymmetry of her outfit only barely noticeable behind the gentle aura she put off, hands folded behind her back as she spoke gently to the other. Granted, Kid noted that given the style of the outfit, there was likely precious little that could be done about the asymmetry – such robes didn't typically lend themselves well to it, with one side needing to be folded over the other, and again… there was that star to consider.

The other, smaller girl was the one that caught his attention, nose buried in her book as she offered half-hearted responses to the her taller companion, eyes of green sweeping back and forth across the pages of her book – unlike the others, she was almost perfect in her symmetry, one of her grey pigtails only slightly further back than the other, slightly enough that she probably hadn't even noticed.

'… I wonder if her father has told her about me,' the thought rang through his mind, unbidden, but not unwelcome as he once again looked each of them over.

"… well, well. Look who finally bothered to show," slowly, the first of the boys pushed himself up, baring his teeth in a wide, but not particularly friendly smile, "And here I was starting to think you weren't gonna come at all."

"… sounds like he's pickin' a fight," Patty whispered from behind him, a note of dark glee in her voice.

"Patty, settle down," Liz warned, stern, "This isn't the Bronx. Don't be the first one to swing."

"Fine, fine," the younger Thompson grumbled, "Spoilsport…"

"Apologies," the Reaper began, stepping forwards with his best smile, "I suppose you could say we got distracted on the way here. I would assume you are Soul Eater?"

The boy seemed genuinely taken aback, smile slipping and eyes opening wide as he straightened, however briefly, out of his slouch; for the first time, the girls were taking notice as well, breaking from their conversation to look at Kid and his Weapons, fixing on him with an equal measure of curiosity and wariness.

"… yeah, that's me," Soul nodded, "How'd you guess?"

"I didn't guess; I already know all your names," he pointed to the figure above, "Black Star-"

There was a loud, startled curse as the shinobi slipped, and fell from the spike, landing on his feet with a mighty crash.

Kid continued as if he'd never been interrupted, pointing to the girls, "-Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, and Maka Albarn."

All of them were openly staring, bewildered now, save the irate ninja, who simply bared his teeth with a grin, "So, you saw through my hiding place, huh!?"

"Not hard to do that when you stick out like a sore thumb," Liz said, deadpan, "Not that I'd say you were 'hiding.'"

"Yeah, big sis is right," Patty quipped, "That was less 'hiding' and more 'standing out in the open with a big flashing neon sign that says 'Somebody please snipe my big stupid head right off my shoulders.''"

A moment of silence passed, everyone's gazes now having shifted to Patty; she glanced about, as if she genuinely didn't understand what she had done to garner such looks of fascinated horror and disgust. Even Black Star was gaping, working his jaw as he struggled to decide whether he was insulted or simply baffled.

"… what?" the bright blonde raised her hands, "It's what I'd do to someone who put themselves in the open like that."

The black clad boy closed his eyes, pinching his nose with a long, slow sigh.

"Congratulations, Patty," the elder Thompson's words were laced with exasperated frustration, "You've successfully established your reputation as school crazy in fifteen seconds. New record."

"I was trying to help!" Patty pouted.

"… please don't mind Liz and Patty," he sighed, "We're all just a bit excited for our first day, is all. Speaking of," he cracked open an eye, letting his hand fall to his chin, "I don't suppose you're here to show us around?"

"… heh. If you wanted a tour, you should've been here at seven like everyone else," Soul cracked his neck.

"Soul, don't be a jerk," Maka huffed, stepping forwards to gently cuff him in the back of the head, more scolding than truly angry. Her narrowed eyes quickly fixed on the Reaper, however, "Seriously, though, how do you know our names?"

"We were watching your test," Liz shifted her weight, "You know, the one against Sid?"

"… and how do you know about that?" Tsubaki inquired, finally speaking up herself.

"Let's just say being the Weapons of a Reaper has its perks," Patty smacked the back of Kid's head in a gesture that was probably supposed to be affectionate, but felt more like getting slapped.

"A Reaper?" the Magic Dark Arm blinked.

"… ah, yes," Kid nodded, "I've just realized that we haven't introduced ourselves yet."

He bowed with a flourish, hands stretching off to the sides as the Thompson sisters aligned themselves behind him. A smile crept onto his lips again as he spoke, adding a hint of flair to his words, "These are my Weapon partners, Liz and Patty Thompson. They are the best Weapons I could ever ask for, and we've been working together for over two and a half years as of today.

"As for myself, my name is Death. Death the Kid, to be precise," he straightened, arms still outstretched, "I'm a Grim Reaper – the son of the Reaper who founded and runs the DWMA."

The red headed Weapon let out a sigh, the events of the past hour still all too fresh in his mind as he leaned forwards on the balcony of the DWMA, looking out over Death City.

This wasn't how he'd been hoping to spend his day. He'd wanted to just settle back in to his routine, chat with Lord Death, maybe give that little punk Soul Eater second thoughts about trying anything with Maka.

But now… those were the last things on his mind as he stared out into the distance, listless, replaying the brief meeting in his head…

The scream had been far higher pitched than Spirit would have liked to admit.

It welled up from deep in his core, but had resonated high in his throat, vocal chords practically vibrating right at the back of his mouth as he let out a shriek that, were the Reaper's mirror made of glass, would have shattered the reflective surface into countless tiny shards.

But it wasn't made of glass. The Death Scythe wasn't even sure it was made of silver. If anything, it seemed entirely unique, something that didn't quite match any material he could think of, akin to liquid mercury in its smooth reflectiveness. When Lord Death received a call, it even rippled, going dark and making it look like a pool of obsidian – which didn't make any sense, obsidian couldn't be a pool unless it was molten, and molten obsidian was a painfully bright orange and moved more like a sludge than a liquid.

Strange things were learned when one was bored and scrolling the internet, like whether or not it was possible to cast a sword out of obsidian rather than just making a macuahuitl. As it turned out, the answer was no – the stuff was too brittle to form such a large structure without immediately snapping, which is why chips and chunks were what was needed to form any sort of blade. Blades of obsidian were ridiculously sharp, to the point of being used frequently in medical work as scalpel blades because of how they could cut the bonds between molecules with their aforementioned ridiculous sharpness, but this in turn made them spectacularly fragile and generally ill suited to hitting things with, ridiculous sharpness be damned.

Despite Spirit's best attempts at this blatant distraction from the fact that he was staring at his first partner in the form of these barely connected, not at all relevant thoughts, they completely and utterly failed, the scream continuing to block out his mind in a single continuous sound-

At least until the Reaper's hand collided with the back of his head.

It had been a while since the suit-clad man had received a full-blown Reaper chop. The experience, though hardly pleasant, had at least taken him out of the present for a moment as he tried to pull himself together, fighting through the haze that had filled his skull like a thick soup comprised entirely of headache.

"I think you might have hit him a little too hard, Lord Death," he felt cold, clammy fingers stretch his eyes open; was the Death Room always that painfully bright?

"I needed to get him to stop screaming," the Grim Reaper's familiar voice echoed, a little more distant.

"All due respect, sir, even I could tell you that there are better methods of doing that."

"Well, I didn't see you doing anything!"

"I wanted to see how long he could maintain that scream for; Spirit's always had a pretty impressive lung capacity. He reached twenty seconds before you knocked him unconscious."

"I wouldn't say I knocked him unconscious-"

"He's been laying there for-"

The Weapon let out a groan, slowly pushing himself up into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his head.

"Ah, Spirit!" the Reaper exclaimed, clearly relieved.

The bright light in his eyes suddenly disappeared, Stein pulling away his flashlight with a smile, "Welcome back to the world of the living."

"I don't feel alive," he slurred, taking a moment to examine his palm, "How long was I out?"

"About five minutes, give or take?" the scientist shrugged, "I've been more occupied with making sure you don't have a concussion than keeping track of time."

"Damn," Spirit sighed, glancing up at the jagged shadow, "You couldn't have knocked me out for the full day?"

"I wasn't trying to knock you out at all," Death bowed apologetically, "It wasn't my intention to hit you so hard… I must be getting rusty."

"It has been two weeks," Stein noted, "That would make anyone at least a little bit rusty."

Spirit just groaned, slowly pushing himself to his feet. He shifted his weight, back and forth, forwards to back, and then finally let out a slow sigh, "… okay. I think… I think I'm good."

Stein adjusted his glasses with a chuckle, "You'll be happy to know that you don't, in fact, have a concussion. Your body is reacting as normal."

The Death Scythe gave him a dirty look, "And how do I know you're not just saying that?"

"Come on, Spirit," the doctor gestured to himself, "Do I look like the kind of person who would lie to you about your medical condition for my own amusement?"

"Yes," he hissed, tone pointed.

"Wow, you've gotten cold since I last saw you," Stein brought a hand to his heart in a gesture of mock-hurt, "Though I suppose you aren't exactly wrong."

"The screw through your head and the stitches don't exactly help," the Weapon's cyan eyes narrowed.

"Alright, alright, that's enough out of both of you," Death raised his hands, chiding, "In case you've forgotten, there is actually something of great importance that we need to discuss."

"Right, right. Apologies," Stein sobered, smile fading.

Spirit turned, turning his gaze on the Reaper, "… so, what's this about? I'm assuming you wouldn't have dragged Stein back here if it weren't so important."

There was a brief pause as Death regarded him with a strangely sombre look, "… I'm afraid you're not going to like this, Spirit."

"Frankly, I don't really like being in the same room with him," he grunted, "Can't be much worse than that."

The dark chuckle from the patchwork man beside him, followed by the heavy sigh from behind that pale mask, made Spirit immediately regret his choice of words.

Albeit not as much as the next sentence to leave Death's mouth.

"I've summoned Stein here in order to ask you two to act as a Weapon and Meister pair again."

He stared at the Reaper. Then at Stein.

Then at the Reaper.

Then at Stein.

Then at the Reaper.

"… you're not serious," he managed, weakly.

"Oh, no, I'm quite serious, Spirit; and you know I wouldn't ask this of you lightly."

It was the grave tone that emanated in the Reaper that kept Spirit from protesting. All the cheer that Lord Death formerly had was now entirely gone, leaving the Death Scythe with an overwhelming sense of foreboding as he peered into the swirling darkness behind the mask.

"… did something happen while I was gone?" he asked, "What did I miss?"

"Nothing that you would have been able to do anything about," Stein assured, "I only got the news recently myself. It's the main reason I was brought back to the DWMA in the first place, in fact."

"That doesn't answer my question," Spirit insisted, "Lord Death, what's going on?"

"… do you recall the series of massacres that have been occurring over the past few months?" Death inquired, "The ones that all seemed to have been done with some sort of blade?"

"… of course I do," the Death Scythe's eyes narrowed, "All about a month apart from each other, give or take a week or two. All over the world, from the States, to China, to Brazil and the UK. We only heard about most of them in passing."

"No one was ever caught," Stein elaborated, "By the time Weapon and Meister teams could be deployed, the perpetrators had vanished without a trace, and all the cases occurred so far away from each other, and the victims so varied in background, ethnicity and gender, that it was assumed that there was no connection between them despite the relatively quick succession – a series of unfortunate coincidences."

"And you're suggesting there's a connection?" the redhead raised an eyebrow.

"Not suggesting," the doctor pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Eventually, Death Scythe Azusa Yumi noticed something no one else did when looking over the evidence; after filing a request with Lord Death, she sent images of the crime scenes to forensic experts, and then to me for confirmation."

He took out his phone, holding it to eye level for Spirit to see before flicking through several photos; though the Death Scythe did not flinch at the sight of the corpses and blood, his expression grew grim as the images cycled through, giving him a perfect view of a grisly fest of gore and murder. Thugs in alleyways, travellers on a subway, people gathered in church – all seeming to have been hacked to pieces, with neither mercy nor distinction.

"Every single one of these murders was committed with the same weapon. Going off the nature of the wounds, a fairly heavy longsword," Stein slipped his phone back into his pocket, "Undoubtedly committed by someone capable of utilizing their Soul Wavelength to increase their physical capabilities."

"… and they pulled it off by advantage of the differing jurisdictions between the DWMA branches to slip right under our noses," Spirit brought a hand to his forehead, cursing, "How the Hell didn't we notice this connection before?"

"We simply didn't think there was a connection to make; we only have Death Scythe Azusa's sharp eyes to thank for finding any correlation at all," Death mused, "Whoever is doing this has considerable resources, The tools to get from one landmass to another relatively quickly, easily, and without being detected; in addition, the ability to murder a large number of people very quickly, and then disappear without a trace before authorities arrive, leaving us with effectively no suspects. To say the very least, we are dealing with a cunning opponent."

"You think it's a Witch?" the Weapon asked.

"Entirely likely – in fact, it's probably the most likely candidate," the grey haired man reached up, and began twisting the screw, forcing Spirit to do a double take – he hadn't been sure that thing could even be moved, "A powerful Witch is the most likely entity capable of pulling feats like this off, especially since their positions are so difficult to monitor to begin with."

"But it's not the only possibility, either," the Reaper sighed, "I don't want to consider it, but the fact is we can't take the worst case scenario off the table, either."

"… the worst case scenario," Spirit closed his eyes, bobbing his head with his lips drawn into a thin line, teeth grit, "… you think… these massacres might mark the emergence of a Demon Sword?"

"We don't know," Death 'shrugged,' "All we know for certain is that massacres have been committed, a pattern has been established between them, and that all of the human Souls from each of these incidents were taken before any investigation could be launched. Witch, Demon Sword or otherwise, this is a worrying pattern, and we can't afford to take any risks in handling it."

"Which is why you want us working together again," Stein stated, "Is that right?"

"That's correct," the shadow glanced between the former Weapon and Meister pair, "As uncomfortable as the situation may be for you, the fact of the matter is that you are the strongest pair of fighters that can be brought in on short notice. This situation needs to be dealt with, swiftly and decisively, and mustering other Death Scythes and their Meisters would take time we may not have to get this situation resolved. We cannot risk the emergence of a Demon Sword – if that occurs, we will have a monster on our hands that is well on its way to becoming a Kishin."

"God Damn it…" Spirit muttered, once again bringing his hand to his forehead and digging his fingers into his scalp with a low, hissing breath, eyes squeezed shut as he tilted his head back.

He did not want to do this. Right now, he didn't even want to be in the same room as Stein – he hadn't even known they were in the same city. If he were going to meet with his old partner, he'd have preferred it be over drinks with about a week's prior notice and a companion to keep an eye on his glass. This was moving too quickly, the request itself was too much, and just seeing Stein had been enough of a shock that he wanted nothing more than to go home, curl into a ball under his sheets and die. Or at the very least, not come out for a week so he could actually process the theoretical fastballs being hurled at his head.

… but unfortunately, it didn't seem that he was going to get what he wanted.

"… alright," he managed, taking a breath to force a measure of calm into his chest, "Alright… I'll… I'll do it. But," he turned sternly to Stein, who was watching him with an expression that could be described as almost bemused, "… I'm gonna need some time to think. And, we are going to have to draw some boundaries. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," slowly, a grey-skinned hand stretched out, rough and calloused, "I look forwards to working with you again, Spirit."

The Scythe stared at the hand for a long moment before letting his eyes rise back up to meet that pale, almost clammy face. The doctor smiled, and for a moment, Spirit was a student again, looking at what he believed was Stein's first smile of genuine happiness, eyes closed and lips curling upwards…

He didn't return the gesture.

He simply turned away, walking towards the guillotine gates.

"I need some air," he huffed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he slowly made his way to the door.

Distantly, he could hear Lord Death and Stein exchanging words, but at the moment, he didn't care. He just needed to process, continuing to walk until long after the Reaper and his old colleague had fallen out of earshot.

"… Hell of a first day back…" he huffed, resting his chin in his hand. Right when he thought things couldn't get more complicated or stressful, here they were, coming along to slap him in the face.

Just like almost everything else, lately.

"Lost in thought, Spirit?"

"… not in the mood, Stein," he muttered, not bothering to turn around.

Wordlessly, the doctor approached, moving to stand beside his partner on the edge of the balcony, hands in his pockets.

Neither of them spoke for a long while.

"… never thought I'd see this view again," Stein stated, digging into his pocket and pulling out a box of cigarettes.

On reflex, Spirit reached out, snatching the whole box out of Stein's hands before he could pull one out to light, glaring.

"Really haven't learned since highschool, have you?" he snapped, "No smoking on school grounds."

Stein let out a dry laugh, pulling out a second box, "That only applies to students and non-faculty visitors, Spirit. And only when they're indoors. We're both DWMA faculty now."

At this, Spirit raised an eyebrow, "What, you're working with Doctor Gorgon now?"

"Not officially, though I am counted among the medical staff," Stein lit his cigarette, taking a long, slow drag before letting out a slow exhale, a cloud of smoke rising into the pure blue sky, "I'm actually a professor now."

"A professor?" Spirit rose to his full height, then blinked, startled; it was the first time he was noticing just how much taller Stein was than him now. He hadn't really noticed in the Death Room, but now he could see that the stitched man had half a foot on him.

Nonetheless, he didn't back down, instead redoubling his scrutiny, "Lord Death made you a teacher?"

"He did," Stein reached up, adjusting the screw again; his face went rigid with sudden concentration as he ran it back, then forth, as if trying to find a channel on a radio or find a precise setting. After a moment, he relaxed, and let his hand fall, "Believe me, no one is more surprised about this than me. Lord Death must really trust you to keep me in line."

Spirit snorted, looking back down at the city with a stubborn glare, "I'm not your baby sitter, Stein. I shouldn't have to keep you in line."

"Hm. Makoto's rubbed off on you, I see."

It probably wasn't a deliberate jab on Stein's part, but that in no way detracted from its sting; the Scythe's jaw tightened, and he forced himself to take another calming breath, crossing his arms and leaning on his elbows.

"… sore subject, I take it?"

"… we divorced over a month ago," he sighed, "I…"

"… I see," another drag of the cigarette, "I'm sorry to hear it."

"You?" a red eyebrow rose, "Sorry?"

"As sorry as I can be, at least," Stein turned, leaning back against the railing and staring up at the three spheres at the top of the DWMA, floating with no visible supports, "I don't particularly like Makoto, for a number of reasons, but she seemed to make you happy while you were together."

"Didn't think my happiness was something you cared about," Spirit let his eyes fall back to the city below.

"Please, Spirit," a tap on the cigarette, ash falling to the ground, "I might not be capable of understanding abstracts, but I at least understand how emotions work. They're chemicals and hormones in the body, scientifically quantifiable, and therefore can be studied and understood."

"When you put it like that, you make them sound like-"

"Experiments?"

Stein's interruption was neither angry nor scornful; if anything, it sounded more like a genuine question than anything intended to pierce. There was no malice behind it, the grey green of Stein's eye locked on Spirit with a genuine curiosity. He let the word hang in the air for a long moment before smiling, closing his eyes, "They are, in a way. Isn't everyone carefully monitoring what they say to the people around them, lest they say the wrong thing and get an undesired reaction? Slowly venturing to see what they can get away with and what they can't in which settings, with which people they surround themselves with?"

"You always did have a dim view of social interaction, Stein," Spirit let out a resigned sigh, straightening, "I suppose that hasn't changed."

"No. But that doesn't mean I'm not capable of caring, either."

"Really?"

"Really."

"You care about me?" the Weapon faced his former Meister, voice flat, lips drawn into a thin line, "About how I feel? What I have to say?"

"Of course I do," the Meister blinked, seeming actually surprised that Spirit would ask such a thing, "If I didn't, why would I listen to you?"

The two men stared at each other for a long few moments, each with their silent inquiries. Suspicious cyan staring into limestone, inscrutable as its namesake.

Eventually, Spirit broke his gaze, "I give up. I'm never gonna be able to take you at face value anyways – not without a Soul Resonance, at least."

"I'm willing to do one with you now if it would make you feel better."

"I'll pass. We're probably gonna have to do one sooner rather than later anyways – I'd rather not freak out the rest of the faculty when we do."

"Fair enough," another puff of the cigarette, then Stein held out the box to the Weapon, "You want one?"

He pushed the box away, "No. My drinking habit's bad as it is. I'm not gonna add smoking to the list of habits I have to break."

"Suit yourself."

Again, the quiet reigned as the two men stood alongside each other, one with his eyes on the ground, the other watching the sky…

In hindsight, it really should have occurred to Luz that illegally selling potions on behalf of a wanted criminal was going to be harder than it actually sounded.

Actually entering Bonesborough had been easy enough; the heavy walls of bone and stone were dizzyingly high, conjoined with the towering cliffs she had nearly fallen from the day before. No one had even given her a second glance as she slipped in through the open gates, the guards not even bothering to give her a once over, too wrapped up in their own conversations to notice.

Navigating the town, however, was another matter entirely; its multi-level construction made reading the multiple maps Eda had given her exceptionally difficult.

Bonesborough had four separate layers; one at sea level, and three more on a series of increasingly high and treacherous cliffs, roads and walkways built into their sides, stones and bricks tumbling down from above with alarming regularity. Tunnels were carved into the rock, leading to some sort of undertown that hadn't been included among the maps the Owl Lady had handed her. Buildings were even built upon other buildings, adding yet more layers to an already dizzying labyrinth as entire districts were separated by singular stairwells and bridges, some sturdy as stone, others hastily constructed and feeling like they might come apart beneath her if she made a single misstep.

More than once, the teen had to sit down and consult her maps to find an address in the sprawling maze of stone and bone, steel and teeth, King impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for her. Worse, she'd found that Eda's customers weren't all too keen to trust her, often screaming in her face to leave and only relenting when they had seen the little Demon at her side – and that was when their doorbell didn't try to eat her when she put her finger to it.

And those were hardly the only problems they were giving her...

"… this isn't the right amount," she muttered, counting up the number of bills again to make sure her math was correct.

"You've been keeping track of how much they've paid you, right?" King asked around a mouthful of cockroach in a bun.

"Yeah," she nodded, holding up her phone and the paper, "I've been making sure. I've got the list right here and I've been keeping note of our progress."

"Then don't worry about it," the Demon shrugged, swallowing the last of his disgusting snack, "If you've been keeping track, Eda'll be able to find whoever didn't pay up."

"Yeah, but I wanna do my job right," Luz huffed, stuffing her phone back in her pocket, lifting the bag with a grunt; with all the walking they'd been doing, it was feeling considerably heavier, even with all the successful deliveries they'd made, "I don't want Eda to think I'm doing a bad job because people are short-changing me."

"Eh," King shrugged, eyes closed, "She'll cut you some slack. Maybe. Probably. First day and all."

"I hope so," she sighed, leaning back against the post, the cool surface of the metal in the shade a blessing against the hot sun. The smells hadn't gotten much better, either; it seemed the faint, but distinct sweetness of rot that Luz had caught that morning through her open window was not exclusive to Eda's forest and shoreline. It permeated the air all the way to town, and it had only gotten worse as the day progressed and the heat of the sun intensified.

It wasn't to the point where she couldn't breathe – there were enough other scents on the air to counteract the stench, and the occasional breeze brought in a fresh wave of salt from the sea – but it certainly wasn't helping her gag reflex.

"I thought this would be… different."

"Different, how?" King crossed his arms.

"I dunno… more exciting? Less people screaming at me?" she gesticulated, trying to find the words, "More like yesterday, with the prison riot, I guess. It was like something straight out of Good Witch Azura…"

"Oh, that," he rolled his eyes, still seeming utterly dismissive, "Hate to break it to ya, Luz, but that kind of thing doesn't actually happen all that often. Eda tends to, you know, lay low most of the time?"

"I guess that makes sense," she sighed, pushing herself to her feet with a grunt, "Witch criminal and all. Certainly explains why she's out in the woods."

"If every day were a high octane heist, she'd have been caught a long time ago," King quipped.

"Can't argue with that… still, this has been a rough day," Luz looked down the list, "We've only got one more delivery to make… let's drop it off and go home."

The two made their way down an alley, Luz's feet aching with every step she took. Slick with sweat, her clothes stuck to her body like a film, forcing her to peel them away from her skin every now and again with a shiver, and though it didn't hurt yet, she could feel the beginnings of a headache settling into the top of her skull.

At this point, her enthusiasm had been thoroughly curbed.

She just wanted to get back to the Owl House.

"… it's only your first day," she reminded herself, adjusting her grip on the heavy bag and doing her best to rekindle her spirits, "Even Azura needed a few weeks to get her first magical quest… stupid timeskips…"

"Okay, seriously," King scampered ahead a few steps, glaring up at her, "What's this whole 'Azura' thing you're so obsessed with?"

"It's a book series," Luz did her best to explain while also trying to follow her map, "It's about a Witch who tries to make the world a better place even though it's all been stacked against her because the world is afraid of her and afraid of Magic. She's still learning in the first book, and it takes half the story for her to complete her first quest from Gowther the Wizard… but she always tries do the right thing, whether it's battling the gigantic Gildersnake or trying to talk down her rival Hecate."

"Pff. Sounds lame."

"They are not lame," she snapped, suddenly very aware of how much King's backhanded comments were beginning to get under her skin, "They're my favourite novels!"

"Doesn't make them not lame!" he said, cheerful as ever as he turned around, "Dunno why you'd want to be like her so badly."

The Latina bit down on a growl of frustration, "Why wouldn't I want to be like her? What's wrong with being kind and wanting to use Magic to help… people…"

She trailed off as they emerged from the alley, coming to a halt with a gasp, pains and aches forgotten.

A veritable castle stood before them, its walls every bit as massive as the buildings they were surrounded by, soaring dozens of feet into the air, towers topped with flags that fluttered in the wind. Golden light filtered down through the clouds above, illuminating the entire structure in an enticing, heavenly shine.

"… pretty," she managed, the headache fading from her head entirely as she quickly skipped ahead, moving up to the towering double oak doors, inspecting the bell.

"… I don't like this," King started, sudden concern working its way into his tone.

"Yeah, well, you've made it abundantly clear you don't really like anything except yourself, King," she snatched a small stick off the ground, experimentally poking the blue doorbell. It rang out, miraculously not attempting to eat the stick or her hand, and the doors swung open with a heavy rumble.

"No, seriously," the Demon insisted, "Big houses like this always belong to big whack-jobs. Let's just chuck the package inside and go."

"We gotta collect the payment, King. Or at least try," the teen stepped inside, calling out, "Hello?"

"Hey, wait-!" he ran after her, the door swinging shut with a heavy slam as he entered, making him yelp in a distinct mix of surprise and fear before resuming his chase, keeping pace directly behind the Latina.

"I'm delivering a package," she continued, squinting to see through the shadows, "From Eda, the Owl Lady?"

The room came to life with a sudden roar of flame from the fireplace; all at once, long dead embers and wicks ignited from nothing, candles bursting into flame and casting a warm glow throughout the expansive room. A massive staircase stretched up from the center, rising up to multiple levels until they reached the very top of the room. Nearly every wall had a bookshelf built into its surface, thousands upon thousands of books neatly in place along the wall, not a single one showing the slightest hint of mistreatment.

At the very top of the stairs hung a portrait of an old man in purple robes etched with stars, his kind, warm eyes half lidded as if in contemplation as he smiled down at the girl and Demon from behind his folded hands. His long beard and hair flowed down in waves, immaculately combed in lines that alternated between grey and pale violet, half moon spectacles gleaming as the man himself padded out from underneath his own visage.

Luz's eyes shone as he slowly descended the steps, lips pulling back so far her cheeks ached, "Magical wizard…!"

"A weird old man in jim-jams," King sniffed, tugging at the hem of her hood, "Come on, let's go…"

"I was in my oscillarium," the old man began, voice warm and inviting as he reached the bottom of the steps, "Reading the stars… and who might you be, with eyes so full of curiosity?"

"… uh…" Luz swallowed, trying to choose her words carefully, "I-"

"Young lady," he interrupted, approaching with a hand on his chin, "Dareth I say, I sense something… unique about you."

The man stepped back, snapping his fingers; a chair of white silk rose behind him, decorated with gold and burnished wood, followed by a tea table laden with pastries and a pair of china cups, a second chair appearing across from him as he sat down, "Please, won't you join me for tea?"

"Okay!" The teen couldn't help but feel charmed, moving to take a step forwards…

Only for King to grip onto her leg, doing his best to pull her back.

"C'mon, let's scram!" the little beast insisted, "He's just a creepy old man with glitter in his pockets!"

"King!" she scolded, "Don't be so rude!"

"Wizard is a fancy word for sham!" he snapped, "Are you really gonna trust a guy you only met a second ago?"

"I trusted Eda," Luz insisted, "I'm trusting you!"

"That's different! I'm totally trustworthy!" he scampered up her back, perching himself on her shoulder and glaring at the wizard, who remained totally unperturbed.

"Oh, come on," the teen sighed, "You won't get anywhere in life if you're suspicious of everyone you meet."

"Weh!" King turned up his nose, refusing to budge from his spot on Luz's shoulder.

"… plus," she began, tone conspiratory, "I see scones on the table…"

"Scones!?" his eyes snapped open, shooting around the room, "Where!?"

When the Demon's eyes finally landed on the plate of snacks on the table, he leaped down from his perch, sprinting on all fours and scrambling up the table cloth.

Doing her best to hide a chuckle, Luz met the wizard's gaze, slowly setting the potions down as she moved to sit down across from him, "We'd love to join you for tea."

She picked up the cup, the handle warm in her hands as the wonderful, unfamiliar scent wafted into her nose, a sweet blend that she couldn't even guess at, at least not off the top of her head. The sound of King messily shoving snacks into his mouth somehow only added to the already warm atmosphere as she settled back into the chair, sighing with satisfaction.

"I do hope that the blend is to your liking?"

"It smells wonderful," she nodded, then took a small sip, "… oooh… can I ask kind of tea this is?"

"A unique recipe passed onto me by an… old acquaintance of mine," the wizard chuckled, taking a sip from his own cup, "Fire-lilies are a rare find in Bonesborough, so one must always be sure to purchase them when you find them."

"Fire-lilies?" she tilted her head, finally noticing the leftover heat from the tea on her tongue, "I don't know what those are, but from the name, it explains the slight spiciness."

"I find a little spice does wonders to any warm beverage – if your intent is to stay awake, at least," he chuckled, "But where are my manners? My name is Adegast, Wizard of Bonesborough."

"It's nice to meet you, Adegast," the teen stated, "I'm Luz. Luz Noceda."

"Luz… now that is a nice name," he set his cup back on the coaster, "Now, forgive me for being so rude… but I wasn't aware the Owl Lady was open to having an employee. I was under the impression that Eda made all her deliveries in person."

Luz let out a weak laugh, memories of other suspicious customers flooding her mind, "Yeah, well… this is my first day, so…"

"Aaaah, that explains it," Adegast nodded sagely, "And what exactly did she hire you for? Just delivery?"

"Oh, no, I'm not just an employee," the Latina waved a hand, grinning, "I'm her apprentice!"

"Apprentice?" for the first time, Adegast seemed genuinely surprised, blinking as his smile faded.

"Yeah. I'm training to become a Witch," she bobbed her head, shifting in her seat slightly.

"I… see," his tone contrasted against his words, seeming genuinely perplexed as his eyes went unfocused, staring off into space for a long moment. He seemed to go limp, shoulders slumping as his hands fell into his lap.

"… Adegast?" Luz started, rising in her seat slightly.

He jumped, everything snapping back into place with a startle, eyes fixing back on Luz with a powerful intensity.

"… are you alright?" she asked, tone hesitant.

"… yes," he cleared his throat, shaking himself out of his reverie, his warm smile returning as he settled back into his chair, "It's just… well, it's most unusual for a Witch like the Owl Lady to take on an apprentice. Let alone a human apprentice… are you enjoying the experience so far?"

At this, the girl leaned back in her chair, feeling her lip twist as she debated the question to herself, stomach simmering with conflicting emotions as Eda's devil-may-care grin flashed in her mind, golden eyes and fang glinting…

"… it's…" she raised a hand, gesturing back and forth, as if physically searching for the words, "… well, you gotta keep in mind… first day, right? First day is never gonna be best day. Eda and I don't have everything really… sorted out yet? I don't even have a bed yet, I just kinda… sprang this on her out of nowhere."

"I see… though I sense, despite this due consideration, you have… misgivings," the wizard ventured.

"… sorta, yeah," Luz admitted, "Today's been… rough. I just feel like I've been getting yelled at all day and like I'm not really doing as good a job as I should, even though some of that… really isn't my fault," she let her elbows rest on her knees, "It's been… a slog.

"And, look," she straightened, staring Adegast right in the eye before he could interject, "I get that not every day can be a big magical adventure or quest. Eda even told me she wouldn't teach me for free. If I'm gonna live with the Owl Lady, I gotta earn my keep, and I'm not opposed to that – I even offered to work for her in exchange for lessons. I knew going in it wasn't going to be easy or all fun and games… but…"

"… it's easy to realize that in your mind… but far more difficult to actually reconcile that reality with your expectations and feelings," the old man finished.

"… yeah," she sighed, "I dunno. I guess I just hoped it would be like what I read about in my book."

There was a heavy pause between them for a long moment.

"… but," Luz clapped her hands down on her knees, regaining her smile as she pushed herself back up, "Like I said. It's just my first day, and it's not even over yet. Maybe Eda will have something in mind for me when I get back."

"Maybe," Adegast agreed, "But perhaps I can offer you something more… immediate."

"Immediate?" she perked up, tilting her head.

"You said you were hoping for a quest," he reached into his beard, pulling forth a scroll, "And I might have just the thing."

Luz watched in awe as Adegast broke the crimson wax seal; the scroll unfurled, revealing a beautifully calligraphic map, weathered at the edges and seeming truly old. The path led through the orange forests and through the hills, to a far off shrine surrounded by a crystalline pool, the white staff gleaming against the backdrop of the waterfall.

"The prophecy foretells of a young human girl, who will claim the Celestial Staff, and free the world of an ancient evil," he handed the map to her, as gently as if he were handling the most delicate of flowers, "Perhaps thou hath cometh here for a reason."

She looked the map over with a growing smile, "Perhaps I… hath…?"

The Latina trailed off, eyes finally fixing on the pile of jars and bottles beside Adegast's chair; the same sorts of magical glass and assortments of potions and solutions as what Eda had given her to deliver, and a none-too-small stockpile of it, either.

"Should you believe yourself worthy to attempt this quest," Adegast's voice was distant in her ears.

"… so worthy," she murmured hesitantly, still letting her eyes shift back and forth through the stock. Boil cream… greyscale ointment… she hadn't completed her delivery to Adegast yet, and she was certain it wasn't nearly that big…

"You should know the road is dark and perilous… Luz?"

"Hm?" she snapped back to reality, meeting Adegast's eyes, "Sorry, sorry… got… lost in thought, there…"

"I could tell," he stated, seeming genuinely concerned, "Are you quite alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just…" she let her eyes fall back down to the floor, "… Adegast… do you happen to sell potions?..."

He blinked, then glanced back; after a moment, he let out a quiet, subdued chuckle, "Why, yes. I dabble in potions, with a small business."

"You should run a business of more scones," King snapped, "Into my mouth!"

King's lack of decorum did absolutely nothing to put Luz at ease as he scarfed down the last of the pastries. Her previous comfort had been replaced with a sudden sweep of anxiety, as if she were somehow only now realizing that something was very, very wrong.

Despite her better judgement, she let her eyes rise back up to meet the wizard's, trying to maintain her previous easy calm, "… but if you make potions… then… why would you be getting a delivery from Eda…?"

At this, Adegast's body convulsed. His fists and teeth clenched as his eyes bulged violently in their sockets, neck going limp as his shoulders rose, making him seem less like a person and more like a marionette. His limbs were at once tense and limp, eyes too big and lolling in their sockets and mouth not closing properly, almost seeming hinged, making the Latina's face and hands go cold with a fresh wave of fear...

Just as quickly as it had happened, however, his body returned to normal, his smile gone as a deep frown creased his features.

"… it does chafe me to admit it," he sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "But the fact of the matter is, the Owl Lady is… more proficient at making certain types of potions than I am. Orcilae, for example; a powerful pain relieving concoction, but most doses will render its patient… physically unsteady and mentally muddled for the duration. Eda is one of the only people capable of making orcilae with all of the benefits, and none of the unfortunate side effects."

Luz was only half listening to the explanation; her mind was too fixated on Eda's echoing words as her heart careened into the pit of her stomach.

'I'm not the only one selling potions illegally. Even if you don't take the Potions Coven and the guilds into account, I've got rivals who want to bring me down, and they won't hesitate to use you to do it.'

A moment ago, she had been chomping at the bit for the opportunity to go on a quest, to potentially salvage her first proper day on the Isles.

Now, it was finally occurring to the girl that she might be in very real danger.

"It's nothing more than a business transaction," the wizard assured, seeming unaware of her turmoil, "Not everyone can be good at everything, and there are some potions Eda likewise has trouble with. Making sure you have a stock of everything is just part of the business. You understand?"

"… yeah!" the teen quipped, trying to resummon her former cheer, even if it was only a façade. The smile was now genuinely painful as she tried to force it to seem natural, "Yeah, totally understand! Speaking of," she snatched up the sack, digging through it and glancing at her list, "You ordered… formaldehyde... ethanol… preservatives?"

"Ah, right, yes," he spoke quickly, "I have some taxidermies on display. I've been running low on the supplies to keep them properly maintained."

"Okay," Luz nodded, rising to her feet and handing him his bottles. She didn't bother counting the bills and he handed her in turn, simply stuffing them into her pocket.

"Well, your food is gone, and so are we," King hopped down from the table, "Nice chat, sparkly jim-jam man. We gotta get back."

"Yeah, Eda warned us to be back before sundown or risk 'mortal peril,'" Luz hefted the bag of potions, resisting the urge to sprint for the door.

"Right, right, I'm sure," Adegast flashed them one final warm smile, "I will see you out."

The Latina and the Demon following the wizard as he led them back out to the heavy doors; they swung open as the trio approached, and Luz felt herself physically relax as she stepped out into the afternoon sun.

"Please, don't hesitate to stop by for tea again," the wizard began, "I very much enjoyed our conversation this afternoon."

"Yeah, we'll be sure to do that," King stated offhandedly, sounding bored, "C'mon, let's go."

"Coming," Luz started forwards, again resisting the urge to run, "Goodbye, Adegast."

"One last thing, Luz," the old man called, "Only the Chosen One can pull the Celestial Staff from its post."

"… I'll be sure to keep that in mind," she nodded, smiling, holding up the map he had given her.

When the door finally shut, sealing Adegast from view, she broke into a sprint. She didn't care about the glass smacking into her shoulders, digging into her skin with every impact.

She just wanted to put as much distance between herself and that castle as possible.

"Hey-!" King shouted, struggling to keep up on his stubby legs, "Luz, what gives!?"

"I just wanna get back!" she called back, slowing just enough so that the cub could keep pace. She slipped into the alley, and began making her way back towards the gates of Bonesborough.

… she didn't see the illusion dispel behind her, the light fading as stone disappeared and wood vanished into thin air, leaving only a ruin behind.

Nor did she see the baleful golden eyes staring into her back, alight with malicious frustration…

Sorry this one took so long. I admit I had trouble writing Luz's section because I do NOT like Adegast.

Bit more to talk about here! Writing Stein is an interesting exercise. There's a lot to dig into with him because he's got just enough empathy that sometimes you think you can understand him, but then he does something that no one with a functioning conscience would ever do and you remember "Oh yeah! He's fucking CRAZY!" He's got basically the bare minimum regarding his sense of empathy - and it's honestly easy to forget.

As for Patty, I actually have a decent basis for her personality now since I'm trying to make her more than just a total dumbass with no personality beyond "I do and say funny shit for no reason." Ever heard of Helluva Boss?... yeah, I've based her at least partially off of Millie from the very same show. Feel free to give her a matching Texan accent if you wish, because the image of Patty talking like a southern cowgirl is Goddamn hilarious.

Luz and Adegast, as I said before, was tricky. I wasn't all that sure where I wanted to go with it for the longest time and wound up writing like a hundred words a day for it until I finally found the rhythm I wanted. I'm still not totally sure I'm happy with it, but eh, it's done now.

Regarding the differences in Luz's reactions to Adegast from canon, Luz has a bit more context as to the whole relationship between humans and Witches than she does in Owl House proper, and a better frame of reference as to how a life of adventure works in the form of Maka. She has a better understanding of her task at hand, and that it is by no means going to be easy or 100% fun and games all the time. All this in mind, she's a liiiiittle bit better at picking up the context clues and red flags than she was originally - such as "why would one potion merchant be buying potions from another merchant?" (though admittedly Eda's warning helped)

Also, the mention of Orcilae potion is a direct reference to Evilsnotbag's Lunar Eclipse Owl House AU, one of the main inspirations for this story. I highly recommend going and giving it a read, it's an excellent sit.

Just as a side note, what would you guys think if I were to open a for my own original writing? To clarify, this would be entirely for my own original stories, no fanfictions, tributes or anything like that. Entirely my own work, built in my own worlds. Would you all be open to that idea? I've been considering this for a while now and I'd like your thoughts on it.

... before I go, I just want to say... rest in peace, Kentaro Miura. Your work on Berserk has done fucking wonders for me and my own work. I'm sad to see you go, even if I never knew you personally. Thank you.

Sorry to leave you all on a somber note like that. Please be sure to leave your thoughts below. I hope you all enjoyed the fifteenth chapter of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance.