Before we begin, I would like to note two things.
First, a thank you to a good friend of mine who gave me some massive inspiration for how to progress this story. For the sake of their privacy, I shall refer to them simply as BK. Thanks a lot, man! This chapter would still be on the backburner without you!
Second, a warning. This chapter includes characters that appear at the end of Owl house season one and in season two proper, as well as dropping some hints as to their backgrounds that may or may not line up with what is in Owl House proper's canon.
If you have not seen The Owl House season 2 or have not reached the end of The Owl House season 1 yet, and do not want to be spoiled for these characters, then please stop reading now.
Consider yourselves duly warned.
With all that out of the way, let us proceed.
I do now own Soul Eater or Owl House.
If I did, the Emperor's Coven would probably be a much bigger threat...
The sound of gunfire and clashing steel.
The flash of light as sparks fell to the floor from steel crashing against steel.
The sensation of sweat plastering his shirt to his skin as he raced to get ahead, teeth grit, Tsubaki's heavy scythe blades spinning on their connecting chain.
The split second shots that forced him to change direction on a dime just to avoid being hit.
A whirlwind of steel and sound.
That was what Black Star was experiencing.
He pivoted hard, hurling the Kusarigama in his right hand while keeping a firm grip on the chain, letting it sweep inward in a gentle arc around the young ninja's body; the crescent blade arced in towards the self-proclaimed Reaper, who gracefully sidestepped the swipe without even looking, simply continuing to aim and fire with those twin pistols.
He then twisted, ratcheting on the chain and whipping it down, Tsubaki's blade gleaming in the light.
Though it didn't meet flesh, a flash of satisfaction shot through Black Star as Kid's eyes widened, realizing his miscalculation; the gunslinger dove into a forward roll, and the shinobi shot towards his opponent, 'Tsubaki! Ninja Sword Mode!'
'Right!'
The familiar weight of the short, almost dagger like blade spun easily between his fingers as he closed the distance. He lunged, eager to plunge his weapon down-
Only to stop dead in his tracks as the first of the handguns popped up, the gunshot just barely missing the underside of his chin. A pink flash of light shot past his nose, quickly followed by another as the second handgun rose, the pinkie finger squeezing the trigger almost faster than he could blink.
He dove to the side, sidestepping another shot and cleaving through another as Kid propped himself up on one knee, continuing to fire as if nothing had happened, eyes narrowed in concentration amidst the continuous volley.
Black Star grit his teeth. It wasn't as though he'd been expecting an easy fight, despite his earlier boasting. In fact, he'd have been disappointed if it were easy; there was nothing that soured his mood quite like a weak opponent.
After all, there weren't many things he hated more than punching down instead of up.
In that regard, the new kids hadn't failed to deliver in the slightest. They were extremely well coordinated, clearly comfortable with placing their lives in each others' hands as any Weapon or Meister should be. From the moment they'd stepped into the arena, Black Star had been able to tell they were strong from Kid's footing alone.
None of this, however, was a cause of the shinobi's frustrations.
Rather, those frustrations stemmed from the nature of the challenge they posed.
The young Star's own experience with firearms was limited, but he knew enough to read at least a little into the trio's fighting style; each of their shots carefully calculated and targeted despite their sheer number and speed, mere split seconds passing in between each one. The trio were pushing him back with every resounding crack from each firearm, forcing him to waste his energy dodging as he was pushed back into a corner. Every step he took was answered by another shot at his feet, his knees, his hips – aiming for his joints to ensure that if he didn't keep up the pace, he'd be crippled and beaten then and there.
He was confident it would take more than one shot to stop him, but that didn't change that he couldn't risk it until he could find an opening – something that wasn't happening as long as he was being forced four steps back for every two steps forwards he took.
But there were no openings to exploit; they didn't seem to need to reload, which meant their bullets had to be some sort of Soul Wavelength technique. Nor did they ever stop to rest, instead continuously harrying their opponent with a constant barrage of attacks in an attempt to wear him down, and there was nothing to indicate that they were anywhere near their limit.
There had to be one, of course, but the boy of the Star Clan wasn't about to engage in something so boring as a war of attrition.
'They're stronger than I expected,' Tsubaki confessed, shifting back into Kusarigama mode, 'I knew they were going to be capable, but…'
'Well of course they're strong!' Black Star felt his lips move with each word as he sent the thought back, flipping forwards into a roll and hurling the first handscythe, 'Anyone claiming to be the Grim Reaper's kid can't exactly half ass it!'
This time, Kid wasn't taking any chances; keeping one of the Thompsons trained on the ninja, he raised the other to aim at the incoming weapon, shooting the scythe out of the air with impeccable accuracy.
He hadn't even glanced away from the shinobi.
'Can't even distract him!' he reeled the chain back in with a single powerful yank, catching the hand scythe and spinning it, once again deflecting the bullets getting too close.
'… so that's what they're doing,' the Dark Arm murmured, voice quiet with sudden realization.
'Got something we can work with, Tsubaki!?' the spiky haired boy didn't dare look away from his opponent.
'Just a theory, but it would certainly explain a lot,' she began, 'All I know for sure is that they must be sharing their senses so that Kid doesn't have to look down the sights at all; that's the only way that sort of guns akimbo fighting style would even be able to work. The sisters are aiming every bit as much as he is, and they may even firing of their own accord!'
'So there's no point in distracting him!?'
'If I had to guess, Kid is the one handling general observation; he's been paying very close attention to our position this entire time and he's the one reacting to our movements,' Tsubaki extrapolated, 'Meanwhile, his partners are handling the details of actually aiming; if I'm right, then they're either directing Kid so that he aims where they need him to and firing once he's lined up, or they're directly projecting what they're sensing to him, so he effectively has eyes in his hands along with his normal vision. Either way, it's a potent and ruthlessly adaptive tactic.'
'Well that's just wonderful,' Black Star hissed, "No wonder this guy's such a pain in the ass to hit!'
As soon as he felt his back hit the wall, he sprang up in a backward flip; planting both feet on the wall, he launched himself forwards with every ounce of force he could muster, leaving cracks behind from the force of his jump. Tsubaki's scythes spun on their chains as the younger ninja turned himself into a human missile, deflecting shots from Kid as they closed the distance.
Calmly, Kid raised an arm to the ceiling, and pulled the trigger; a bullet-shaped burst of Soul Wavelength shot upwards. There was the squeal of metal upon metal, and pain erupted in the center of Black Star's back.
'Black Star!' Tsubaki called, her panic adding to the painful throb, 'What happened!?'
'Don't know, don't care! Just keep going!'
Time seemed to slow; Black Star hit the ground, rushing forwards with both of the kusarigama spinning on their chain.
The Reaper pulled the trigger once more; the pink flash shot upwards.
The ninja spun, dodging left as he hurled the first scythe to his right, hoping to catch his opponent in the clothesline…
The bullet pierced the ground mere inches behind him.
'Ricochet…?' Tsubaki wondered, 'Off the ceiling?'
Kid leaned back, slipping harmlessly under the chain, already slipping back to maintain his distance.
But it was too little too late; the knuckleheaded ninja had already closed most of the distance, and wasted no time in rushing forwards, reeling in the scythe and beginning to slash at the black clad boy before him.
It was only now that Kid's calm veneer began to slip, gritting his teeth as he found himself on a steady defensive; each swipe and slash of the scythes was close, each miss mere milimeters away from his body as he pulled back, clearly hoping to gain some distance and regain control over the battle.
Black Star, however, did not let up; he kept going, his frustration swiftly supplanted by catharsis as he felt the tide begin to shift.
There was absolutely no question that Kid was someone who preferred fighting at long range – and really, the shinobi could hardly blame him. His Weapons were built for it, and they'd clearly spent a long time honing their techniques and their partnership to maximize their effectiveness in a fight. That, Black Star could certainly respect.
But where the fight had been completely imbalanced in Kid's favour when he had managed to keep some distance, it had completely reversed as soon as Black Star had managed to force a melee.
The Reaper knew at the very least how to throw a punch – there wasn't a single person here who didn't – but Black Star lived and breathed in the pulsing heartbeat in his head and the vibration of his fists upon contact that were the centerpieces of a physical clash. Every attempt the suit clad son of the Grim tried to raise a gun to attack, Black Star either slipped past it or smashed it aside, and every step back was met with yet another vicious lunge.
Finally, the kusarigama made contact.
A surge of adrenaline and satisfaction flooded Black Star before he could truly process what was happening; the impact was cathartic, a sign he was finally beginning to get somewhere-
But then he felt more than saw the hand scythe refuse to move, caught between the barrels of the handguns like a vice.
Barrels that were aimed directly for his chest.
"Got you," Kid said coldly, pulling both triggers.
The ninja dropped as quickly as he could, each shot striking him in the shoulders rather than the chest as his opponent had intended. The force behind the strike sent him stumbling back, but he was quick to repurpose his momentum, spinning before he was sent sprawling and lashing out with his feet.
On the first kick, Kid's legs were taken out from under him, the Reaper tumbling head over heels; on the second, he was struck full in the chest, sent rolling back across the floor under the force of the Black Star's sheer strength and momentum.
The shinobi wasted no time in pulling himself up and out of his spin, rising to his feet-
Only to find Kid had managed to stand as well, converting his sideways roll into a backward one that allowed him to rise to his feet with minimal effort, weapons raised once more.
For a long moment, neither moved.
"… I must admit, you're better than I gave you credit for," the Reaper stated.
"Starting to realize you're outmatched?" Black Star jeered, smirking, "I'll admit those ricochet shots you made off the roof were a neat trick, but you'll need more than cheap party gimmicks to beat me."
"Not in the slightest," those golden eyes didn't so much as blink, "I'm still certain that my partners and I are going to beat you."
"Must be a nice dream. Too bad I have to wake you up now," he rolled his shoulders, sinking deep…
He sprung as soon as Kid began firing again.
'Shuriken Mode!' he commanded.
'Right!'
The familiar weight of the oversized ninja star slipped smoothly against his fingers as he spun, letting his momentum carry into the throw; the heavy blade shot forth from his fingers, the great steel star rushing in towards Kid's head.
As expected, the pale boy easily side-stepped the projectile, eyes narrowed as it passed; though nothing was said, he was clearly questioning the purpose of such an attack, throwing away one's Weapon in such a way…
"Tsubaki!" he called, "Smoke Bomb Mode!"
The burst of smoke instantly swallowed Kid into an inky haze of black fumes; Black Star couldn't hide another grin at the shock in Kid's eyes in the millisecond before they disappeared.
"Let's see how much you like fighting blind!" he shouted, before leaping into the smoke himself.
When he tried to strike, however, his fist found naught but empty air.
Somehow, Kid had slipped away without making a single sound.
He came to a dead stop, listening carefully to get an idea for Kid's position; the Reaper had stopped shooting, and an eerie silence had fallen over the room. He was blind and deaf but for his own heartbeat, a constant, heavy pulse in his head and chest that was always at the periphery of his awareness.
"Clever prick," he muttered.
A harsh crack rang out.
Black Star only saw a brief, faint, distilled pink flash before the gunshot hit him, making him stumble, foot falling heavily as he caught himself-
"Found you."
Kid's voice bore the slightest hints of smug pride as he resumed his fire, shots following the sound of Black Star's feet as he rolled and scrambled to regain the advantage.
"You really gotta learn to shut up!" the younger Thompson giggled, voice distorted within her Weaponized form as she shouted over the gunfire, "Stealth doesn't do jack if you keep running your mouth!"
"Ghhh…!" the shinobi snarled, picking up his pace again, 'This is stupid! I can't get anywhere near him!'
'Black Star,' Tsubaki's thoughts emanated to him through the smoke, faint in the fumes, only barely noticeable.
'Tell me you've got an idea, Tsubaki!'
'They can't see you; the smoke is obscuring their vision well enough that they can't target you. They're shooting at you based entirely on the sounds you're making.'
'And how does that help me!?'
'Every sound you make gives away your position. From there, they approximate where you are compared to where they are and take shots accordingly.'
'So what, I just gotta stop making noise!?'
'… yes.'
For some reason, he hadn't quite been expecting such a blunt answer. He was all for a simple victory, but this seemed a little too simplistic – and he doubted Kid would be fooled by sudden silence alone.
'You remember Mifune, right?'
'How could I forget?' he groaned mentally, 'What about him?'
'… this may be a good opportunity to use the same technique we used back then. Shadow Star.'
He leaped, pushing up off the ground with all his might over the sideways hailstorm of spiritual gunfire, gracefully letting his momentum carry him backward through the air.
'… Black Star?'
'I heard!' he acknowledged, tone more of a grumble than he'd have liked to admit. He hadn't wanted to resort to something like Shadow Star against some upstart, but if he wanted to defend his place as the big man of the DWMA…
Well, he couldn't afford to not pull out all the stops.
'Alright, no more screwing around!' he finally settled, determined, 'Tsubaki!'
'Right!'
All at once, his breath disappeared.
He landed silently, the balls of his feet absorbing the force of his fall, the impact displaced up through his heels and into his knees as he crouched. He closed his eyes, maintaining the silent exchange of air from his lungs.
Though he couldn't see Kid's face or hear his voice, he could sense the abrupt confusion from the equally abrupt disappearance of gunfire, the last echoes of the contained explosions fading into the general quiet.
'Assassin's Rule Number One: Silence,' a rehearsal, and a reminder, Black Star's voice and Tsubaki's in one, 'Dissolve in the darkness and erase your breath. Wait for an opening to attack your target.'
Silence reigned for a long few seconds; eventually the faint sound of leather on tile made the shinobi's ear twitch. He opened his eyes, letting them drift in the direction of the noise as Tsubaki's breath became audible, a convincing mimicry of his own harsh breaths from before.
Someone trained to differentiate such mimicry from the real thing may have picked up on the ruse… but Kid was hardly what could be referred to as a spy.
'Assassin's Rule Number Two: Transpositional Thinking. Analyze the target to predict their thoughts and movements.'
"There you are," Kid's voice rang out, and the gunshots resumed – but not at Black Star.
They echoed from the shinobi's left – if he had to guess, less than twenty feet away.
He gave a vicious grin as he glanced up; the smoke was slowly beginning to clear as Tsubaki's form consolidated. Kid had his back to Black Star, guns outstretched as he took shots at the indistinct mass in the dissipating smog, shaped to resemble him.
'Assassin's Rule Number Three: Speed. Before the target notices your presence…'
Tsubaki's impeccable disguise became visible, dancing between the gunfire with incredible ease. When one shot grazed her shoulder, however, the disguise began to crumble, an illusion of the Soul that quickly began to fade. The veil fell to dust and wooden splinters in the air, her determined expression one of the exact reasons Black Star was so proud to call her his partner.
"… you're-" Kid faltered, abruptly realizing his error.
But it was too late.
Black Star was already closing in, footsteps silent.
'… take them out!'
To his credit, Kid reacted quickly. Keeping one Weapon trained on Tsubaki, he spun, raising the other to meet his opponent. Black Star only shifted his head to the side milliseconds before the Reaper pulled the trigger, the shot just missing his temple and the sound of the gun making his ear ring with pain.
But it didn't matter.
"BLACK STAR BIG WAVE!" he roared, driving his fist into Kid's ribs. His Soul pulsed, sending out a shockwave that shot out in every direction, shattering the tile and rupturing the concrete beneath his feet.
He could feel Kid's body violently ripple under the force of the blow as it tore through his body; the sheer physical force of the shockwave by itself was enough to lift the Reaper's body clean off the ground even without the punch that accompanied by it.
To his credit, Kid did not scream; he didn't make any vocalization at all, though that might have been the shock and pain that was currently running through his system. His entire form ragdolled, limbs limp in the air for a brief moment before Black Star followed up, bringing another strike into the Reaper's already soft ribs.
He didn't get in more than three punches, however, before Kid pulled himself together. The shinobi only had an instant to process the cold fury of those golden eyes, and the gun barrels being shoved into his lips, jarring his teeth and sending a far more severe ache through his mouth than such a small impact should have made, disorientating him...
And then the triggers were pulled.
The first two shots brought blinding pain, figuratively and literally; his eyes were filled with a pink brilliance so overwhelming it stung, and the sensation that shot through his lips and jaw was akin to having a grenade go off in his mouth. The taste of smoke and gunpowder flooded his mouth and nose, along with the distinct iron tang of blood, and the ringing in his ears only grew louder from such close proximity to the firearms. His hands flew to his face on an impulse he couldn't control, at once trying to protect his face, clear his eyes of the sudden splotches of light, and staunch the pain.
It did not help against the shots that followed. His elbows, his knees, his hips, all were subject to shots as Kid got to work on his now stationary target, with more pain flooding through his body with every thunderous crack. Black Star's head was swimming, even as his eyes cleared, but he didn't let that stop him; as soon as he could see, he threw himself forwards, swiping with both hands and pulling himself out of the bulletstorm.
Even as Kid dodged nimbly back, Black Star was regaining his ground, pushing on despite the pain, forcing the Reaper further and further back-
Until he had come within Tsubaki's reach.
Silent and patient as a viper, she immediately lashed out as soon as Kid was in range; her hair transformed into a chain, spinning between her fingers before lashing out in a long, thin whip, wrapping around Kid's wrist and pulling taut, both hands working to keep the chain in place. The pale boy was pulled off balance, aim thrown off and several bullets firing off somewhere to the side, Black Star only distantly aware of their ricochets off the wall.
He paid it no heed. He rushed forwards, fists raised again, even as the Reaper continually adapted, raising his pistols to fire at both the shinobi and the Magic Dark Arm-
"Time's up!"
Sid's voice echoed in Black Star's ears, forcing him to skid to a halt; he glanced at the zombie in his peripheral, keeping most of his focus on Kid, who had gone stock still, and Tsubaki, who had turned all her attention to their teacher.
"The allotted time for the duel has run out," the cadaver specified, holding up a watch, "This match is over."
"Death the Kid and Black Star have run out of time with no overall victor!" Kilik declared, raising his arms to form an X, "This match is a draw!"
"A draw!?" Black Star gawked, eyes wide as a flood of outrage welled up from his stomach, "You gotta be kidding me, I was nailing him!"
"You got in some solid blows, Black Star, I will give you that much," Kid acknowledged, sighing as he relaxed his grip; the paired pistols glowed before transforming back into their human forms, "But I would hardly say you were guaranteed to win."
The shinobi glared into those glowing golden eyes, "Big talk coming from someone who just took the full brunt of my Soul Wavelength."
"And yet, here I am, standing perfectly well on my own," a slight, cocky smile crossed his lips, "And if I had to guess, you were expecting that strike to end that fight."
At this, Black Star couldn't help but grind his teeth, fists clenching as he clawed through his mind for a retort, only to find none.
"Hey, don't feel too bad," Patty folded her hands behind your head, "You did better than I thought you would."
"You gave as good as you got," Liz agreed, stretching, "You even managed to catch us off guard with that decoy trick, and might've even pulled out a win if you'd closed the distance in those last few seconds. But you were on the back foot for most of that fight. You two have a lot to learn."
Before anything else could be said, Sid interjected, gesturing with his clipboard, "Kid, Black Star, Tsubaki, Liz and Patty. Please return to your seats so we can get on with the next match."
His hands shook as he kept glaring into the back of Kid's head; he'd been so close to winning that fight. Just another few seconds, and he'd have had the Reaper on the ground screaming uncle-
A hand gently came to rest on his shoulder.
Tsubaki's calm smile did not dispel his frustrations... but it seem to put things into focus, those dark blue pools drawing him in like nothing else in the world possibly could. For an instant, all else was forgotten but their silent exchange, even the retreating back of the Reaper ceasing to exist.
It wasn't as if the loss just ceased to matter. It stung, as losing always did.
But somehow, his partner's calm made it sting just a little bit less.
He closed his eyes, taking a breath. However slightly, his anger receded, and the pulsing haze pulled back from his forehead, settling down into the back of his mind even as his stomach continued to simmer with a brimming, but controlled rage.
When Black Star opened them again, he felt his lips form a grin rather than a snarl as he'd intended, "Don't think this means you won that!"
Kid did not turn back to face him, but Black Star could hear the smile in his tone "As long as you don't make the same mistake."
The shinobi snorted, turning and stomping back up towards his seat even as the rest of the world flooded back into his senses, the excited jabbering of the other students a distant noise in his periphery. He settled back into his seat, pointedly ignoring the conversation unfolding between Tsubaki and Soul and Maka, instead staring up at the ceiling, trying to puzzle out how he would beat Kid the next time they fought.
It hadn't exactly been easy, after the day she'd already had, for Luz to let Eda tie the blindfold around her eyes – even after the lesson, the Latina still felt the creeping dread, her hands shaking whenever she stopped to think about her meeting with Adegast. With the sun rapidly setting in the distance, the scorching heat of the day had rapidly been replaced with a biting chill Luz hadn't been prepared for, leaving her shivering the instant she'd stepped outside with the Owl Lady and the Demon. Did the Isles' seasons not match up with the seasons of home?... did the Boiling Isles even have seasons?
These questions had been quelled once she felt Eda sit her down on the staff, and then gradually rise off the ground. She could feel the climb was slow, but smooth, something she was grateful for even as she clamped her arms around the Witch's waist, the breeze tousling her hair and the air only growing colder as they ascended into the evening sky.
"You alright back there?"
The question made Luz tense, tightening her vice-grip as much as she could manage.
"You're shivering," Eda's voice was calm, easily rising above the breeze, "You're not scared of heights, are you?"
Were it not for the chattering of her teeth, the girl would have laughed; instead, she angled her head up on impulse, as if to meet Eda's eyes, struggling to get her mouth to cooperate, "C… c-cold…"
"Ah."
A single syllable that was as much a realization as it was a note of self-directed scorn; an instant later, Luz heard flames crackle to life, and warmth surge into the air around her, dancing across her skin and flooding her lungs with a pleasant heat, the familiar comfort of campfire smoke carried on the wind.
"Sorry, Luz," the Witch sighed, "You'd think I'd remember one hour to the next you can't use your Soul Wavelength to keep warm."
"I-It's okay," she tried to put a chipper note back into her staggered words, "I-I shoud'v-ve said s-somethi-ing…"
"Eda, you think we're high enough?" King piped up, the Latina feeling him clamber up onto her shoulder.
"Almost. Just gotta go a little higher."
He huffed, and Luz couldn't hold down her chuckle, finally feeling her warm enough that her shivering came to a stop, "… so… what do you want to show me?"
"You'll see in a minute. I just want to get the best view for you," Eda stated, "Shouldn't be long now."
"Can I guess?"
"And ruin the surprise for yourself?" Eda's grin was prominent in her tone.
"Alright, fine, be that way," Luz smiled, resisting the impish urge to reach for her blindfold and peek.
Eventually, Luz felt the staff smoothly come to a halt, the sound of the flames growing more distinct as the breeze died down to a gentle, barely noticeable draft; finally, the Witch spoke, her voice seeming entranced, "Okay. You can look now, Luz."
Her breath hitched as she slowly relaxed her grip around Eda's waist, suddenly feeling infinitely less secure without both hands gripping onto something despite her earlier temptations; even so, she slowly pulled one hand back, reaching up for the blindfold and pulling it away, blinking the bleariness away from her eyes-
And gasping at the sight below, fingers falling loose and losing their grip on the blindfold, the strip of black fabric forgotten in the wind.
An impossibly colossal skeleton sprawled out into the distance; a fallen giant so overwhelmingly massive that its torso and limbs stretched so far that they disappeared into the horizon even from the dizzying height that Eda maintained. The thing's ribs arched up into the sky in broken, tusk-like mountains, each capped with glaciers that hung over the edges, and what was left of the sternum had long since broken away and fallen to the earth below; the pelvis was shattered, what would have been mere centimeters on normal person roughly forming dizzying cliffs and entire mountain ranges all of their own, wide enough across and so long that it left Luz wondering just how many states could fit into the thing's torso.
To their left, the thing's leg arched, stretching up and towering over the duo, the knee reaching into the clouds and entirely out of sight before arching back down behind them, the dead creature's foot forming hundreds upon hundreds of islands that could have been whole countries of their own. To their right, the other leg shot out into the distance, again so unbelievably massive that Luz couldn't see the other foot, lost in the horizon. As it was, she could only barely make out the rough shape of each arm, but only up to a point, whatever hands it might have had completely hidden by the line that divided the sky from the sea.
The only thing she could truly make out in the distance in any detail was its horned skull – and even then, only the shape and the empty sockets, the sun descending behind its unfathomably gargantuan form, bathing the distant land in hues of brilliant gold.
But its size wasn't the most breathtaking thing about the colossal cadaver.
That would be what it had become.
Everywhere Luz looked, she could see life taking root in something long since dead. Dense forests ran along the cliffs, englessly across the thigh and torso and up the length of the leg-like mountain – mountain-like leg? – trees even holding stubbornly onto the bare stone of the sides of the sheer cliffs. A nigh infinite number of lakes dotted the pitted landscape, and a river ran up the center of the torso, having cut a deep ravine into the earth and leading down into a bay formed by the broken pelvis. The dark ocean below silently lapped at the shores, reflecting the near infinite stars of the ever darkening sky above, and the constellations they formed – constellations Luz couldn't recognize, all forming patterns that she could only scarcely guess at.
She could even see Bonesborough from here, and even that immense city she'd spent hours exploring earlier that day was just… a speck. A multi-coloured dot in the face of the world it was built in, if even that.
"… whoa…"
"The Bones of the Isles," Eda sighed, content, expression soft as she stared into the sunset, golden eyes catching the gleam of the distant light.
"… it's beautiful," Luz whispered, all fear of falling from the staff forgotten, "This- This is all the Boiling Isles?"
"All this and more," even King seemed transfixed, a smile in his voice as he hung from Luz's shoulder, "All the way until you hit the ocean."
"… I didn't think they'd be so… big," Luz confessed, "You said 'Isles,' and I thought you meant… like, Hawaii."
Eda chuckled, shaking her head, "Not even close. You could spend hundreds or even thousands of years trying to walk from one end of the Isles to the other – and legends say you still wouldn't see everything they have to offer."
Those golden eyes fixed on the Latina again, "Given my own experiences here, and that even I'm still finding new things?... I'm inclined to believe them."
"… so am I, just seeing this view," the girl let her eyes wander over the view again, taking in every inch of the Isles that she could under the ever darkening sky. Despite her best efforts, though, her eyes kept fixing back on Bonesborough, her smile faltering as the day's events replayed again and again in her head…
"… still got him on your mind, huh?"
"… that obvious?" she asked, not raising her head to look at her mentor.
"Luz, I can see you're upset," King crossed his stubby arms, glaring up at her pointedly, "You're not very good at hiding how you feel."
"… Mami and Papi always said I wear my heart on my sleeve," she mumbled, huddling in on herself, "… for better or worse…"
"Not really one to reign yourself in," Eda noted, "I certainly get that, kid."
"… you do?"
"Mm-hm," the Witch hummed again, "I was always something of a wild child. Keeping my emotions in check was never my strong suit, much less actually hiding them. Got better at it as I got older, mind, but… well, I get that it isn't easy."
"… is that why you brought me up here?" Luz asked, quizzical, "To make me feel better?"
"Partially. But mostly I wanted to show you the Isles from a different view than you saw today," the silver vixen settled back on her hands, "Sure, up close, they can be slimy-"
"And smelly!" King cut in, one claw raised.
"And gross," for a moment, it looked like the red-clad woman was going to puke, eyes half lidded… then she glanced up at the sky, smiling, "Buuut, with a change in perspective…"
"… they're incredible," Luz finished, letting herself settle back with a comfortable awe.
"That they are – and while they certainly come with their fair share of dangers, that's true of any place you go," Eda mused, closing her eyes, "Whether it's the Demonic Realms or the human realm, there's always gonna be more than a few Adegasts out there."
"… I still don't understand how he could just… be such a horrible person," the girl confessed, "It just… doesn't make sense to me. When I do something even just a little bit bad bad, even by accident, I feel awful about it, even years after when I let myself think about it. So… how could he… how could anyone do things like that?"
"… that's not exactly an easy question to answer, kid," the Owl Lady let out a long, slow sigh, "No two people believe in exactly the same things – that includes morals. For some people, being powerful in one way or another is just more important than being a good person."
"… and the worst ones let themselves become Kishin eggs?" Luz ventured.
"They're not always the worst – they're just the most obvious," an eye cracked open, gold glowing with a calming, mischievous light, "But that doesn't mean the world's all bad, either; it just means you have to keep an eye out."
The teen stared into that golden eye for a long moment before letting her gaze sweep back over the Isles once more; she leaned forwards on her knees as best she could, careful not to tip forwards and fall, fingers locked onto her arms as she spoke, "… 'Most people aren't bad; truly bad people are a rare thing in the world. Usually, people are misled, misguided, or just make a lot of mistakes. That doesn't make them bad; that just makes them people.'"
"… neat little blurb," Eda said, "Where'd you hear that?"
"My Dad told me that," Luz felt herself smile again, slowly, "He's… really good at putting things into perspective, for me."
"… sounds like a good man."
"… he is," Luz sighed, "He really is…"
The sun slowly continued to descend behind the skull, bathing the Isles in darkness; the sky gave way to black, the stars growing yet more numerous, and faint lights came to life across the Isles below.
"… now I'm starting to get cold," King grumbled, wrapping himself in his tail.
"You and me both," the Witch chuckled, "You ready to head back, kid?"
"… yeah," the girl agreed, "I'm getting hungry."
"Alright. Let's go home, then."
Silently, they descended into the night, Luz staring out as the last bits of light faded from the swiftly darkening evening sky.
No matter where one went in the castle, the beat was a constant. A rhythmic pulse that reverberated through the stone, through the floor and walls, and as one descended into the depths, even through the air. Supposedly, when the castle had first been constructed, it required near constant maintenance even with the help of magic, the constant pounding knocking loose brick and tile and metal no matter how much it was reinforced, and rendering the entire fortress fragmented and fragile, ready to collapse on itself like a house of cards.
But if that was true, those days were long, long since past.
After all, the Emperor would never allow his personal citadel to be a mere shell on the verge of shattering.
Now, the stone slabs remained firmly in place no matter how deep one wandered; tiles and wrought iron stood fast where they were fastened, long, heavy banners bearing the winged golden sword of the Emperor's Coven hanging motionless, symbols that were as much an emblem of strength as the castle itself.
The boy couldn't stop himself from matching the rhythmic beat in the stone around him, each step subconsciously matching another pulse. It was easier than deliberately trying to break from the pattern, for a number of reasons – the first being its omnipresence. Constantly trying to avoid its compulsory rhythm, to maintain one's own beat separate from its tempo for more than a few minutes was an impossible task. It was too easy to slip back into step if one didn't pay constant attention, and when one did that, it led to two things.
The first was pounding headaches as the rhythm seemed to bear down, oppressive, perhaps even predatory, refusing to accept any sort of dissent.
The second were missed details. Details that, on previous occasions, had nearly cost him his position in the Coven.
He reached up, briefly adjusting his mask as he continued through the hallways, illuminated only by torch and candlelight. While the danger was something he'd long since grown accustomed to, he was still grateful for the privilege of having it.
He didn't like her, not for so much as an instant… but the way the Head of the Coven constantly maintained such an impassive expression despite the pressure, and danger, brought by her position was something he envied.
He rounded the corner, moving to redouble his pace-
Only to stop dead in his tracks, nearly tripping over his own feet in his attempt to avoid crashing into the woman before him.
Clad in all black save for her long, heavy white cloak, the woman's expression filled with cold severity as she turned to glare him down from a towering height – he didn't even come up to her shoulders – eyes of pale jade piercing through him. Her long black hair matched that of her elegant black dress in a stark contrast to her bone white skin, the gemstone set over her chest gleaming in the torchlight.
'Speak of the King that Crawls…'
"… oh. It's you," she huffed, tone dismissive as her eyes narrowed, the sharpness of her expression dimming as she turned away.
Despite himself, the boy felt the already smouldering frustration in his stomach stir, stoked in equal measure by her dismissive spite and his own desire. Nonetheless, he endeavoured to keep his tone cordial, "Lady Lilith. You've returned?"
She came to a halt; though she did not turn back to him, a frigid edge had entered her voice, "… and when were you given permission to refer to me by my first name?"
The chill threat hung in the air like a guillotine's blade, and once again, he found himself grateful for the mask, certain that there was no way he could have kept the flash of fear out of his face. He could barely keep it out of his voice, his posture, as he spoke again, "Apologies, Lady Clawthorne," he hid the swallow as best as he could manage, "I spoke out of turn."
"… ensure that it doesn't happen again, Golden Guard," there was a poorly hidden venom laced in the title; a frustration of her own, likely based in the fact that she was not permitted to know his name, despite being his superior. Nonetheless, she started forwards again, heels harshly clicking against the polished tile with every step she took.
Despite himself, he couldn't quite hold back the slow exhale of relief that escaped him. Slowly, he sidled up beside the elder Witch, keeping pace with her long, loping stride.
"… so…" he began, "You're finally back. Haven't seen you in a while."
"My assignment took longer than I anticipated," she stated, "It has finally been concluded. It's only natural that I would return upon its completion."
"You're here to see Emperor Belos, too, then?"
"If I were you, I would take more care with how I used his name," her voice lacked the none too subtle threat it carried before, but her tone was still one of warning, "Names have power. And the Emperor's is not one to be used in idle conversation."
"… I'm not hearing a no," he felt a small smirk work its way across his lips.
"We are on our way to the throne room. What other purpose could I have in coming here?"
Finally, a hint of something other than contempt, even if the attempt at humour was begrudgingly dry.
Again, his smile spread, "Well, I suppose that's true… though I'm surprised Kikimora isn't trying to grill us for a reason to come in."
"She's never far from his side, unless her orders dictate otherwise."
"She is his assistant," he grimaced, muttering under his breath, "… not that I understand why…"
Yet still she remained impassive, even as they rounded another corner, "Despite her flaws, Kikimora is an effective secretary and administrator. Your personal misgivings, and whatever reasons might lie behind them, come secondary to her skill."
"Didn't think you liked her enough to defend her."
"Call it a begrudging respect – something that you should consider cultivating yourself."
This time, he couldn't hold back the snort, crossing his arms, "I think I can handle the Coven's little tattletale, Lady Clawthorne."
"Perhaps. But you should keep in mind that she has been here for far longer than you have – and that, regardless of her treatment of other members, she has earned her place within the Emperor's Coven."
She didn't need to continue for him to catch the undercurrent of disdain, or the implications therein.
He ground his teeth, forcing himself to keep his breaths even. He fought to keep his frustration out of his posture, feet firm on the ground and hands clenching tightly around his elbows, resisting the urge to redouble his pace and pull ahead of her to get to the door first.
"… patience, boy," a note of slight amusement had entered her tone, a smile pulling at the edges of her lips from the corner of his eye – he hadn't hidden his ire well enough, "You're not going to garner anything of worth if you rush down every hallway."
More hidden barbs.
The Golden Guard was really beginning to wish he'd just taken the passages. It would have been so much faster, and he wouldn't have to be subjected to the open disdain and condescension of the famous Raven Maiden...
Nonetheless, he clamped his jaw yet tighter. Emperor's favour or no, one needed to pick their battles wisely.
Finally, they reached the doors, soaring high above and ndearly reaching the vaulted ceiling dozens of feet above. This time, it was Lilith who pulled ahead, the guards on either side immediately standing to attention and pulling the doors open without so much as a second of hesitation.
They swung open with barely a sound, the darkness of the room beyond the hall a stark contrast to the gentle golds illuminated by the torches. The Coven Head continued forwards, confident in her stride even as she disappeared into the shadows.
He only took a moment to steel himself before following suit.
The room was only barely lit by the two massive fires that flanked the golden, towering throne at the back of the room; metal pipes had embedded themselves into the stone, positioned seemingly at random and weaving their way across the floor and the walls beneath the gigantic banners that hung, swaying eerily despite the total lack of breeze. Emperor's Coven guards flanked the room and throne on either side, standing ramrod straight at rigid attention, giving no indication that they had even noticed the entry of their superiors. The flickering eerie glow only gave slight hints at what lay in the darkness beyond, great clockwork always turning, however slowly, gears, pistons, and springs making virtually no noise despite their constant motion.
It was here that the beat was strongest. He could almost feel himself being lifted off the ground by every pulse, the physical shock seeming to faintly rattle even in his bones and settle into his skull, pounding away at his cranium from both inside and out. No other pattern, no other rhythm could exist in this room, all overwhelmed and absorbed into the thrum.
To find its cause, all one needed to do was look to the gigantic, pulsating shadow that was suspended in the frame of pipes and clockwork, foetid flesh and inflamed veins visible in the faint flicker of the flames.
But none of that was what had the boy's attention.
No, what drew his eyes was the man on the throne.
His white cloak seemed heavier than that of the rest of the Coven; thicker, hanging from his shoulders with a more tangible weight, emphasizing the bulk of his form underneath. His head and shoulders were wrapped in a leather hood, studded with bronze, and both were held in place by the heavy medallion in the center of his chest – a medallion bearing the symbol of the winged sword.
But the most striking feature was his mask; covering the entirety of his face, the mask seemed to be some facsimile of deer and bird of prey. A pair of antlers extended from the top of the mask like branches, edges gleaming in the light of the braziers, but the bottom of the mask ended in a sharpened tip, an imitation of a beak. His eyes were not visible in the hollows, only a pair of empty black holes staring back when one tried to find them.
The only signs that the man was even alive were the rise and fall of his chest and shoulders with each breath, and the gentle tapping of one of his fingers on the arm of his throne, the golden gauntlets making a faint click every time they made contact with the stone.
And kneeling before him on the carpet…
"… Warden Wrath?" the Guard mumbled, blinking.
The hulking figure was prostate before the Emperor, hood drawn up, both hands on the floor as his great mass shuddered with equal parts fear and remorse. On closer inspection, his uniform was in tatters, his thick arms at once drooping and tense, as if he were struggling just to maintain their shape. His breaths came in harsh chokes and barely restrained sobs, his head bowed so low his face was practically pressed to the floor.
Eventually, a voice rang out. Low. Cold. Reverberating through the stone with a tangible grain, as if its owner were speaking through some sort of film, the words were distorted with an unnatural echo, one that sent chills running down the spine.
"Allow me to ensure that I am understanding you correctly, Warden," the Emperor spoke slowly, casually, though it was impossible for the boy to miss the hard edge that had entered his tone, "You managed to lure the Owl Lady into the Conformatorium."
"… yes," the normally booming, grave voice of the feared Warden Wrath was a mere whisper.
"You had her cornered, but she proved more than your match. She set free a not inconsiderable number of prisoners during her escape. You and your forces took substantial damage before finally managing to re-establish order."
"… yes."
"… Kikimora."
The small, red skinned demon crept out of the shadows, the claw-like hand atop her head curled into a fist, three of the talons covering her right eye; her left, dark yellow scalera with a brown iris, gleamed with cruelty as she strode to the ruler's side, clad in the same white cloak with a high collar covering her mouth entirely, held closed by a triangular silver brooch, though it did nothing to muffle her prim, proper voice, "Yes, Emperor Belos?"
"Do the Warden's spoken and written reports match the data you collected from the Conformatorium?"
The masked boy could see the Warden stiffen in his place on the floor, raising his head to stare at the small woman.
"Oh, not in the slightest, my Emperor," Kikimora's eye crinkled, and one could practically see the smile of vicious delight breaking across her impish face as her cheeks rose behind her collar. She gestured, several pieces of parchment bound together appearing from nowhere as she cleared her throat.
"To count," she began, "The disaster began yesterday at the end of the third daily quarter, roughly four segments from sundown; when interrogated, Conformatorium guards confirm that Warden Wrath managed to corner the Owl Lady by severing her head, but that he did not initially make any move to capture her, instead attempting to leverage the situation in order to force her into courtship," she clicked her tongue, glancing down at the Warden with a half lidded eye, "Such a naughty man."
The chill that flooded the room was so intense that the boy could feel it even under his own thick cloak, his skin breaking out into gooseflesh; again, he clutched his arms, unable to take his eyes off of the Warden as he continued to shrink with every syllable Kikimora uttered.
It was almost funny, how easily the largest person in the room could be made to look so small with just a few quick words.
"We can extrapolate that the Owl Lady's subsequent escape and release of the prisoners was a result of this lapse in basic capture protocol and professionalism," she returned her attention to the parchment, scrolling down its surface with a small, manicured claw, "She recovered her severed head and proceeded to open several cell doors; from there, those prisoners began opening more cells, and then those prisoners began… well, I'm sure you get the idea. It's no wonder the Conformatorium was so quickly overrun."
"… and yet people wonder why I suggested keys," Lilith's whisper was more of a hiss as she glared disapprovingly at the prostrate, pale demon, seeming to be willing him to spontaneously combust.
"To his credit, the Warden did pursue the Owl Lady and prevented her from just flying off – but by then the damage was done. The Conformatorium was in the full throes of a prison riot – and it gets worse," the parchment rustled as the small demon turned to read the next page, chuckling, "According to what prisoners were successfully recaptured and interrogated, they were inspired to outright rebellion by a child. An accomplice of the Owl Lady, no less, whom goes completely unmentioned in the Warden's report – I can only assume in a desperate attempt to save face."
Again, the pages turned, "What remains is a compiled list of all the escaped prisoners, their crimes, and their current status… the number of prisoners that have not yet been recaptured currently sits above five hundred. Had the Emperor's Coven not intervened during the final quarter last night, we might have been looking at thousands of escapees instead of merely hundreds – and that isn't accounting for the number of Imperial Guards dead or otherwise unaccounted for, either."
Kikimora snapped her fingers, the parchment disappearing as she gave a self satisfied curtsy, "That concludes my report, Emperor Belos."
Silence. That was what the room was greeted with. Even the overwhelming beating of the decaying organ above seemed to have gone oddly quiet, only audible on the periphery in light of the situation at hand. Wrath seemed torn between scrambling for safety and wanting to disappear where he knelt – but he knew as well as everyone else, surrounded as he was, there was no way either was going to be possible.
The Emperor, for his part, remained remarkably at ease, his posture not having changed once throughout the entire report; he let the silence stew, seeming to have turned to the same stone as the walls surrounding him…
"… I am impressed, Wrath. Truly, I am," he finally intoned, "Your audacity is astounding; it has been a very long time since anyone so blatantly lied to me."
"Emperor Belos-!"
Before Wrath could voice his protest, the two closest Emperor's Coven members stepped into action, each of them raising a hand. Immediately, magic washed over the great demon, stone launching up from the ground to bind his hands and haul him to his feet, suspended from makeshift stone supports by his wrists even as purple sludge and vines bound the rest of his body; they constricted his legs, tightening around his chest and throat and forcing his breaths to come in harsh wheezes, cutting off his shouts before they could form.
"It would have been one thing if you had simply admitted to your failures and disobedience," Belos seemed almost chiding, as if he were merely chastising a child caught with his hand in a sweet jar, "I would not have been pleased, but I may have been willing to show mercy, in light of your efforts and successful service in your years as Warden of the Conformatorium.
"But that you were compelled to lie to me, Wrath… calls into question everything you have done over the decades you have acted in my service."
"… I… I served faithfully…" the pale demon half wheezed, half sobbed, "I… my years as an… Imperial Guard… my decades as Warden… I… I… for so long…"
"Perhaps. But how do I know that for certain?" the masked sovereign raised a hand, pressing it to his chest, "Is it only today that you have lied to me? Or have you hidden things from me before? How far back does your penchant for dishonesty stretch, Wrath?"
"… I could… never trick you," Wrath hung his head, though whether it was from pain or shame, the boy couldn't tell, "I… I was… desperate… I was afraid… I have never… lied to you… before today… I swear it, Emperor Belos… I swear it…"
For a long moment, no one spoke. The Warden simply hung limply in his restraints, and though the Golden Guard could not see his face, he had no doubt that the massive demon's expression was pleading, begging for mercy from a man who was not known for his forbearance.
Eventually, Belos sighed.
"… very well."
"… Emperor…?" Wrath's voice was disbelieving through his struggles for breath.
"I shall allow you to return to the Conformatorium, Wrath."
All at once, the hulking form relaxed, collapsing in a relieved heap. He was openly sobbing now, no longer able to handle the flood of emotions, the dam breaking, "… t… thank you… thank you, Emperor Belos, I swear you will not regret this!"
"That much, I am certain of," the Emperor gestured, "Guards, escort the prisoner to the Conformatorium."
Just as quickly as his relief had set in, it was gone. Wrath shot ramrod straight in disbelief mere fractions of a second before the spells binding him changed. The stone suspending him broke away and crashed together, binding his wrists together behind his back in heavy stone manacles; the sludge and vines extended from his body to the Coven guards, each of them gripping hold of the makeshift leash and harness that was now binding the former Warden and hauling him back.
"Emperor Belos!" he cried, "I have served faithfully! Please! Please, give me another chance!"
"Your service shall be duly considered – along with the remainder of your actions," the masked man raised his hand, dismissive, "I do not have further time to waste on you or your failings, Wrath. You can argue your case during your trial."
Wrath's struggles only increased as he was forcibly dragged back towards the now open door; flames began to ignite in his mouth, only for a bit to form from yet more vines, binding his jaws shut. He bellowed, deep in his throat, but no words emerged, muffled by his restraints, and it was silenced as the doors slammed shut.
As the Emperor let out a slow exhale, letting his hand fall back to the arm of his throne, Lilith approached, making the boy splutter behind his mask before settling back into attention, gritting his teeth in frustration as she snubbed him once again. When the Raven Maiden had reached the edge of the raised dais holding the throne, she descended to one knee, bowing her head.
"I am at your service… Emperor Belos," she intoned, only slightly raising her head.
"Lady Lilith Clawthorne," the voice emanated with the same metallic echo as before, every bit as collected, as if the entire exchange with Wrath had never occurred. It was not a tone of indifference, but rather, of measure – detached evaluation as he spoke, "I see you have returned. I take it your efforts were successful?"
"They were," she nodded, "The Wild Covens of the Leftern Talon Mountains have been successfully neutralized. I will admit it took longer than I had anticipated to find them, but once we did, all five Covens were crushed within three days."
"And their members?"
"Captured where possible, killed where necessary. As you commanded," Lilith closed her eyes, "They were not eager to give themselves up. They only surrendered when we breached the inner sanctums of their caverns. As far as we are aware, however, there were no escapees. I returned as soon as the tallies and reports were complete, and the area was secured; a more detailed report will be handed in for your review shortly, and the prisoner transport should reach the Conformatorium within the week."
"Excellent work, Lilith," a faintly pleased note tinged the Emperor's words, "Once again, you have proven yourself as the Head of the Emperor's Coven. It is reassuring to know my confidence in you is never misplaced."
"I am content to serve, Emperor Belos," the smile in Lilith's voice was gone as soon as it had appeared, "However, I did not return here with such haste just to deliver a report on our success."
"Oh?"
She raised her head in full, expression one of stone, "I have reason to believe the Wild Covens we just suppressed were in contact with the Witch Order."
A pause. The sovereign did not immediately react, sitting in silence for a brief moment as the claim settled in. Even the boy had to sit in stunned silence, staring at the back of the woman's head, eyes wide with shock.
"The Witch Order?" Kikimora spoke, an eye narrowed, "You really think they would extend their grubby little claws out here now?"
The Coven Head's fingers twitched, however briefly, as she looked to address the crimson-skinned woman, as if to wrap her hands around a staff…
But another voice rang out before she could even decide whether or not to act on the violent impulse.
"Kikimora."
Immediately, the diminutive demon stiffened; though the Emperor did not turn to look at her, the name was spoken with a low note of warning.
"… apologies, Emperor Belos," she bowed, closing her eye.
"… you're fully aware of the implications of your words, Lilith," Belos stated, "Of the agreements such correspondences violate. Are you certain?"
"The correspondence suggests as much; there are letters both addressed to and received from known Order Witches Vivienne du Lac and Morgana le Faye, as well as," she reached into her cloak with one hand, pulling out a small metal brooch, resembling a woman on a broom; it floated up into the air, and into the Emperor's outstretched hand, "several instances of this insignia, and evidence of ceremonies performed in honour of the Old Witch Maba."
Slowly, the masked ruler ran his thumb across the smooth surface of the emblem, studying it in silence; after a moment, he released the insignia, letting it float back down to the Head of the Emperor's Coven.
"… an inevitability," he spoke, "The Witch Order did not concede the Isles willingly; it's only natural they would eventually make an attempt to take them back, whatever the method they use. I am grateful you brought this to my attention, Lilith."
Again, Lilith bowed her head, slipping the insignia back into her cloak, "Thank you, Emperor Belos."
"So, then, what shall we do?" Kikimora inquired, "Shall we remind Maba why the Isles fell from her control so long ago?"
"No. I will not engage in something so boorish as open war – at least, not yet, not over something so trivial," Belos mused, "If the Witch Order wish to assail the Isles again, they are certainly welcome to try. In the meantime," he straightened, returning his attention to the black haired woman, "Lilith. I want you to resume your hunts for Wild Witches in the Boiling Isles; in light of your success and your discovery, I am giving you free reign as to how you handle your hunt. Use my Coven and its resources however you see fit."
"As you command, Emperor Belos," she nodded, then paused, "… though… if I may make one request?"
"Name it."
"… I want to take on the responsibility of hunting the Owl Lady myself."
A moment passed before Kikimora let out another cruel chuckle, "Is that sentimentality I'm hearing, Lady Clawthorne?"
"No," In that brief instant, Lilith's entire demeanour had shifted, shoulders tense under her cloak and eyes sharp; even after she reasserted her prior calm, the hard glare she levelled at the two-foot tall woman had not faded, her voice still sharp, "It is practicality. I am the one best suited to bring the Owl Lady into our fold – or, failing that, ensure her capture. I genuinely believe that if there is anyone who can catch Edalyn Clawthorne, it is me."
"And who are you speaking for when you say that, might I ask?" the Emperor queried, "Lilith Clawthorne, elder sister of Edalyn Clawthorne?... Or Lilith Clawthorne, Countess of the Boiling Isles, and Head of the Emperor's Coven?"
"… both, Emperor Belos," she breathed, tone imploring as she once again turned to look at him, "… Edalyn will not be caught by Imperial Guards, the Coven Militants, or by even the Emperor's Coven alone. They have all tried. They have all failed.
"I know Edalyn better than she knows herself; she is crafty and she is powerful, but she is not invincible. In the event that diplomacy fails, I am the one who is best suited to assuring her capture. And… and…" her head lowered as her gaze fell to the floor, voice dropping to nearly a whisper, "… and I implore you to remember the promise you made me the day you made me the Head of your Coven."
No one spoke. Lilith and the Belos remained motionless, the masked man staring down at her, posture unreadable as he silently considered her words. The Nevermore Countess remained kneeling, waiting…
"… very well," he finally nodded, "If you truly believe you are capable of doing so… then I leave the hunt for the Owl Lady in your hands, Lilith."
Lilith's head shot up, expression one of disbelief before morphing into one of unbridled joy. Despite her quick reassertion of composure, however, the boy could still hear the smile in her voice as she lowered her head once more, "Thank you, Emperor Belos. I swear, I will not fail you."
"You can show your gratitude in the form of results," Belos stated sternly, "I have not forgotten my promise to you, Lilith. But by the same token, you must remember your oaths to me. Do not allow this particular task to blind you to your duties and other assignments. And, if the Owl Lady will not see reason… then you know what you must do."
"… I do," she nodded, one last time, "I shall make my way to Bonesborough immediately. If I may take my leave?"
"Go. I await the fruits of your labours, Lady Clawthorne."
The Raven Maiden rose with one final bow before turning, and speeding towards the door with such a long stride she was on the verge of breaking into a run. The doors swung open before her, and then closed once more, sealing Lilith away from view.
"Emperor Belos, I must protest," Kikimora spoke, eye narrowed, "You know her relation to the Owl Lady. Do you honestly expect her to be able to capture the Wild Witch?"
"She is aware of what she must do, Kikimora; even if she fails, the nature of that failure will arguably be more important than the failure itself," the Emperor said, "The Owl Lady has evaded every other attempt made to capture her. If it is merely a failure of capability, it simply means the Owl Lady is yet more capable than we considered; a failure of character, however-"
His speech was interrupted by a wet, wracking cough; his posture shattered as his shoulders shuddered and hunched, leaning on one arm as the other flew to his chest, struggling to breathe between hacks and chokes.
Before the boy could even think, he was already in motion; the guards made no attempt to stop him as he ascended the steps of the dais, approaching the wheezing Emperor.
"Golden Guard-!?" Kikimora's eye went wide, as if this were the first time she were seeing him.
"I'll take it from here," he stated, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt as he extended a hand; the golden gauntlet, so massive compared to his own hand, wrapped around his entire hand and wrist, the Emperor struggling to his feet as the boy pulled his arm up onto his shoulder.
The Guard knew how surreal it must have looked, with him supporting a man who must have been twice his size even without the antlers on his mask.
"What is wrong!?" the small demon insisted, "Surely, there must be something I-!"
"It's none of your concern," the boy interrupted, slowly leading the Emperor off towards the side of the room, repeating, "I'll take it from here."
"… with all due respect, Golden Guard, I am his assistant," Kikimora hissed, approaching, "And I will not be dismissed like some-"
She was again interrupted by a gesture from the unsteady Emperor, who had raised a hand.
"… your efforts are commended, Kikimora," he managed, "But… this is beyond your abilities. You are… dismissed. Return to your other duties…"
"... very well, Emperor Belos," she bowed… but as the boy led him away, he could feel the diminutive demon's eye boring into the back of his head, along with the furious envy in her gaze.
It didn't take long for them to slink into darkness, even with the boy supporting most of the Emperor's weight; he pressed his hand into one of the bricks on the wall, and it retracted, the bricks pulling away to reveal the passageway. As soon as it closed behind them, he pushed the towering figure of the masked sovereign to lean on the wall. The wet struggles for breath only grew more laborious as the man slumped, shoulders heaving up and down, eyes still hidden behind his mask.
Finally, he reached out, palm upturned, fingers curled as his hand shook, expectant.
The Guard wordlessly reached into his cloak, pulling the small, struggling thing free. The grey-blue squirrel squirmed in his grip, clawing and biting uselessly at the gauntlet even as it was handed over to the Emperor.
The instant it was in his fingers, his hand tightened like a vice, making the squirrel screech and scream in pain, its body splintering under the force of his grip, flesh and bone turning back into wood as the damage was inflicted. As best as he could manage, the Emperor raised the animated creature carving to his face, digging a shaking figure into its neck… and violently tearing away.
Its head fell away, finally silenced, rendered but a normal carving with that single swift motion; its insides glowed as the body fully hardened into wood, a small, gleaming, simple Soul shining in the dim light of the passage. The Emperor brought it to his face, lifting his mask only briefly…
The glow disappeared.
The shaking of his hands ceased.
The wracking coughs and wheezing stopped.
And Belos let out a slow sigh of relief, letting the carving fall from his hands to the floor as he pulled his mask back into place.
"… ah… that's better," he murmured, straightening back to his full height, flexing a hand experimentally, "I am grateful for your efforts, Golden Guard."
"Thank you, Emperor Belos," the boy bowed his head, ignoring the pang of hurt at the use of his title rather than his name.
"… you didn't use the passages," the Emperor turned to fully face him now, head slightly tilted as he stared down at the Guard.
"Is that a bad thing?"
"It is unusual. A change in an established pattern; I am curious as to what caused it."
As usual, the mask did nothing to stop the sovereign of the Boiling Isles from seeing right through him.
He took a breath, closing his eyes in a vain attempt to calm the slamming of his heart against his ribs before raising his head, staring into the black void of the Emperor's mask's eyes, "… I have a request of my own to make. I… I thought if I approached you in a more official manner, it would…"
"… it would…?"
"… I don't know," he shrugged, helplessly, "Earn me a bit more respect with the Coven, I guess?..."
For the first time that night, a slightly warmer emotion entered Belos' voice, a chuckle echoing against the stone, tone amused, "Is this about Lilith and Kikimora?"
His lips pulled tight in a grimace, looking away, "… it's not just them. I…"
The Guard stopped, uncertain as to how to proceed. He closed his eyes, breathing in… then exhaling, long and slow, raising his head.
"… Emperor Belos. I would like permission to go after the Palisman Sword Dainslief."
"… Dainslief," the Emperor repeated, slowly, inquisitive, "One of the Palismen lost during the old Witch conflicts with the Reaper."
"Yes. I have reason to believe it's been found, after going over reports from the Oracle Coven," again, the masked boy reached into his cloak, pulling out several papers, "The ones we've had looking into sources of lost Magic have had visions of a black sword with a mouth, that can also take on a humanoid form – after doing some cross-reference, I've confirmed this appearance matches the descriptions of Dainslief extremely closely. If it's re-emerged, we can't just ignore it."
"Do you know anything about its location? If it is currently being wielded by anyone?"
"It's been hard to pin down; the reports show a number of different locales, but they all share one consistent thread," one final breath, "It's in the human world."
A long moment of silence. The Emperor stood motionless, unreadable, staring down at the Golden Guard with a posture of stone.
"… you are aware that the Boiling Isles have no functioning portals to the human world, correct?"
"I am. The Old Witch destroyed them all."
"Which means the only portals that link the Demonic Realms and the human world are all in Witch Order territory."
This was exactly what he'd been preparing for. Again, he nodded, taking out a map, "I know. But more reports show that there are a couple of different portals that aren't heavily monitored. I can take-"
"No."
That single word left the Guard stunned, his mouth clicking shut as he looked up from his map, heart skipping a beat; he spluttered, "B-But… Emperor Belos, I-!"
"You don't understand the full risks of what you are proposing."
"The human world is neutral ground as far as our relationship with the Witch Order is concerned!"
"And the portals themselves are not," Belos pointedly stated, "If you are discovered in the human world, the Witch Order will take it as a move made against them in order to claim more territory, which I will remind you is an open act of war – and that is not considering the Reaper."
"I can handle a little espionage," the Golden Guard insisted, "My Soul isn't like other Witches! With a little disguise work, no one will be able to link me to the Emperor's Coven even if they see me!"
"That does not account for the danger posed to you personally, or the possible margin of error of the Oracle Coven," the Emperor rebuffed, "What happens if you go out there, risking your life, only to find that their divinations were wrong?"
At this, the Guard bit his lip, unable to argue the point. He wracked his mind, trying to come up with a suitable counter…
"… they're not wrong," he finally managed, looking up at Belos once again, "Even if this isn't Dainslief, there's obviously something going on. And those Palismen are too dangerous to just leave alone. Don't you think it's at least worth investigating?"
"Worth investigating? Yes. Worth your life?... no," the Emperor stated, "I understand your concerns, Golden Guard. I agree it is not something to be left unattended. But there are too many risks attached for us to simply rush in blindly."
"Which is part of why I'm volunteering," he brought his thumb up to his chest, "I don't need Soul Protect the way other Witches do. By my very nature, I am far more difficult for Witches, Weapons and Meisters to detect. If Lilith is the one best suited to catch the Owl Lady, then I'm the one best suited for this sort of recon. I can do this."
Again, Belos was silent, impassive and unreadable.
"… please," the Golden Guard pleaded, "Just… let me at least try."
A long moment passed before Belos sighed, bringing a hand to his metallic brow. Then, he reached out with a hand.
After a moment, a long, white staff emerged from the shadows, gently floating into the Emperor's hand; after a moment, it extended with several metallic clicks, a crimson orb emerging on its tip, and a broad, white wing edged with gold extended from its tip. It glowed with an eerie light, pulsing in time with the beat of the stone.
The boy's breath hitched in his throat, "… your…"
"My staff," the masked sovereign intoned, holding it out.
"… you're… you're really-…"
Belos said nothing, holding the staff out towards the Guard.
When he reached for it, however, the Emperor snatched it back.
"I am not giving this to you lightly, Golden Guard," his tone was like ice, a warning with a glacial undercurrent, "And I am certainly not giving it to you for battle. At the first sign of conflict, you return to the Isles. Do I make myself clear?"
The Guard's eyes went back and forth between the sovereign, and the vermillion glow of the staff. Eventually, he swallowed, pushing down the bizarre combination of fear and excitement in his chest, and nodded.
"Yes. I understand."
"Then say it."
A final, deep breath, "… in the event that conflict arises and I am in danger, I will return to the Isles. I will not attempt to play the hero."
"… do not make me regret this."
The Emperor held out the staff once more.
This time, he did not pull it back when the boy reached for it.
Even through his gauntlets, it was warm in the Golden Guard's hands, humming with power as he settled into a stance. Already, he could feel its power respond, thrumming, his heart racing as he stared into its crimson light…
"… I'll set out as soon as I can," he stated, feeling the staff compress itself into a smaller form.
"Take care, Golden Guard; a hasteful journey is often one that ends in tragedy."
"Of course," he bowed, "Thank you, Emperor Belos."
"… you are dismissed," the Emperor turned away, walking back towards the throne room, "May the Titan guide you."
The hidden door opened, allowing the sovereign to pass through, and then slowly pulled shut once more, leaving the Golden Guard alone in the dark.
After a moment, he turned, and made his way down the passage, trying to keep his smile and heartbeat under control, dreams of the hunt at hand flooding the forefront of his mind…
I am so sorry it took so long to get back to this, guys. Real life's kinda been kicking my ass...
But I'm here now.
Kind of a long chapter this time! Lots to address.
First and foremost, I made some corrections name wise in previous chapters. Turns out I got Camila's name wrong for nine months. There's only one i in it.
I also corrected the name of Luz's principal, but that's more just me nitpicking my own work.
I'm also going to be making some changes to some of Owl House's antagonists. Primarily in the threat they represent. Sometimes, I admit I feel the Owl House's villains feel a bit... toothless?... so I'm going to be making them stronger. Much, much stronger.
I'm also balancing the strength of the main Soul Eater characters a bit differently? Despite the fact that the series always tried to emphasize that Kid, Liz and Patty were stronger than Maka and Soul and Black Star and Tsubaki, it always felt like they should have been roughly equal to each other. Kid and company's greater stregnth never really comes up outside of some very specific situations, and even then it often feels like a contrived excuse to have him go off on his own. So I'm doing my best to make them A) seem a little bit better rounded as individual characters and as a team, and B)... keep in mind that they're kids. And honestly probably shouldn't be taking adults like Stein or Medusa on in full combat to begin with.
Also, anyone who guesses who Dainslief is gets a cookie. No, Dainslief is not an OC. I'm playing fair here.
Finally, thank you all once again for your patience and understanding with me. Please be sure to leave your thoughts below! I hope you all enjoyed the eighteenth chapter of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!