I do not own Owl House or Soul Eater.
If I did, I might be getting paid for this.
Also, please keep in mind I have only seen up to episode 14 in Season 2 of Owl House; please do not notify me of any plot developments in Any Sport in a Storm, or past that episode, both for my sake, and for the sake of your fellow readers.
It hadn't been particularly hard for him to reach the portal.
Really, the hardest part had been crossing the sea; the Boiling Sea that surrounded the entirety of the Isles caused a continuous curtain of steam to rise on an unending updraft, creating constant cloud cover over the ocean that was usually impossible to see from the Boiling Isles proper. It was a strange phenomena that he still didn't fully understand himself - the ocean along the shoreline was at least bearable, if uncomfortably warm to the touch even in the dead of winter. The further away one got from the Isles, however, the hotter the ocean became, with the churning sea literally boiling in the exact same anomaly that created the scalding hot rains that were unique to the Boiling Isles.
Life still thrived in these inhospitable conditions, of course - there were even creatures that could not survive being removed from the intense heat of the Boiling Sea - but that didn't make it any less bizarre. If anything, it only baffled him even more, and thoroughly reinforced the idea that fact was, as a matter of fact, stranger than fiction.
But beyond the scorching heat and the mists reducing his visibility until he'd gotten clear of the Boiling Sea, his journey to the mainland had gone entirely unopposed.
Though that didn't mean he had let his guard down by any means; just because the days where Old Witch Maba could have these shores actively patrolled were long since gone didn't mean he was going to take any unnecessary risks.
Which is why it had taken him an additional three whole days to reach the portal.
Despite his eager impatience, the Golden Guard had erred on the side of caution, even going so far as to do away with his mask and white cloak in favour of a more discreet grey. As soon as he'd made it to the shoreline of the mainland (that was such a frustrating misnomer to him, it wasn't as if the Boiling Isles didn't constitute a full continent in and of themselves), he'd stowed the Emperor's staff and continued his journey on foot, keeping meticulous measure of his map and coordinates as he travelled through the salty marshlands, and a careful eye on the sky.
Which led him to where he was now, flat on his stomach in the underbrush, observing the portal from a distance.
It wasn't a particularly convoluted portal, as far as he could tell - not like the Avalon portal, which required a number of different factors to line up just to be able to open, the Amphibia portal, which had been tied to an artefact that had been lost millennia ago, or Titan forbid, the Yharnam portal, where falling to fitful slumber led to layers of the Realms where even the Emperor's Coven feared to tread.
Rather, it was a simple canal at the edge of a large, but empty town - even in the midst of the darkening sky, pale golds fading to pink, and then to an ever deepening purple, none of the windows were alight. Many of the buildings had been taken over by overgrowth, branches reaching through windows, vines snaking up and down the walls and roots bursting through the foundations, and moss and underbrush had taken over the cobbled streets. The canal itself was filled with plants and algae bloom, far too much for it to be under any sort of regular use or vigil.
It was all indicative of one of three things.
Gross overconfidence, utter incompetence, some combination thereof…
"... or a trap," he muttered, lowering his binoculars and studying the Magic-made river. In theory, all he had to do was find a boat, and steer down the canal; he would drift under the bridge further along the way, use his staff to open the portal, and the boat would emerge from its shadow all of ten feet and an entire world away. Couldn't possibly be easier.
And yet…
Once again, he scanned the windows he could see, straining his eyes and Soul for any sort of Wavelength, even that which might be hidden under the illusion of Soul Protect… only to once again find nothing.
"... Titan, I'm paranoid," he shook his head, pushing up off the ground and slinging his bag over his shoulder. Slowly, he approached the edge of the canal, peering into the water, the algae an uneven mix of green and mottled purple. His broken reflection stared back at him from the surface, distorted by the gentle ripples caused by things swimming below, in addition to the canal's own slow moving current…
Reluctantly, he took out the Emperor's staff; though the Guard knew that he would be using its power to open the portal regardless, he was hesitant to use any more Magic than necessary, lest he draw unwanted attention…
"... 'You can only take so many precautions before you have to take the leap,'" he recited, holding the Magical conduit in both hands, "'At some point you will have to spread your wings, whether you're ready to soar or not.'"
The Emperor's lecture did little to assuage his apprehensions, but he steeled himself all the same, deliberately conjuring the derisive sneer of Lilith Clawthorne to mind so he could quash his nerves with anger.
He would not prove her right.
He would not go back empty handed.
He would prove that he belonged.
With that thought steadying his Soul, the Golden Guard brought the staff to bear, the crimson glow accompanied by a pulse of raw power. It shot up his arms with a physical jolt, making him wince slightly, but he paid the physical ache no mind. He focused on the energies within the staff, directing them down into the banks of the canal.
It wasn't quite as though he had reached down himself into the muck to pull splintered, waterlogged wood from the muck; trained as he was, he knew he wouldn't have been able to pull sunken boats from the mire and through the water with his physical strength alone, even bolstered with his Soul Wavelength - let alone with such ease.
But he felt it nonetheless; slowly, but steadily, the remains of small, abandoned boats lifted from the sucking mire, rising inch by inch with equal parts force and care.
'You have limited resources to work with here. Don't try to make something entirely new. Just use the pre-existing frameworks, and put one back together…'
As each piece rose from the water, they joined the rest of the framework; though he didn't have a single complete boat to work with, he made do, fitting the boards together as best as he could manage and warping the wood, twisting and stretching it where necessary to bridge what gaps he couldn't otherwise fill.
The further along it came, the faster he worked, his apprehensions fading, and before long he was grinning, needing to remind himself to slow and not go overboard as the sting of the staff in his hands gave way to elation. He was constructing something new out of what was twisted and broken beyond repair, with ease that humans could only dream of.
He let the finished product descend gently into the water. It didn't matter that it was rickety or crudely fixed together, not really - as soon as he was through and out of sight, he'd pull it apart and sink it again, and then get an entirely new boat if need be.
He stepped onto the makeshift gondola, and pushed off, pulling his hood lower over his head as the moonlight illuminated the water. Slowly but surely, he drifted forwards, pushed on by the current and directed by a large wooden staff, pushing off the bottom of the canal.
The bridge wasn't too far off; just as overgrown as the rest of the town, it was utterly overrun with creepers and vines that dug between the cobbles and bricks. Even parts of its ceiling had collapsed inwards, chunks of marble and plaster pried loose by the roots and branches and cast off into the water below, the many archways shrouded with thick vegetation. What little was visible beneath the leaves was weathered and worn from a lack of maintenance, possibly having sat untouched for decades or even centuries. In any case, it arched overhead, the final sight he would see before entering the human world proper.
The Guard pushed on.
As he entered the bridge's shadow, he raised the staff, letting loose another pulse of magic; the space before him responded, warping and twisting before subtly, but visibly tearing open to reveal the world on the other side, the colours blending together and the sounds muted. He hurriedly pushed through, not wanting to have to reopen the portal and certainly not wanting to risk being caught between two worlds-
Only to be entirely caught off guard by the cacophony he found on the other side.
Talking and laughter echoed from every direction; he had no time to get his bearings before he emerged from beneath the bridge.
Where he had once been in a small, abandoned town, he was now in a sprawling city built on either side of the canal, stretching up towards the night sky and off into the distance until the canal curved, and slipped out of sight entirely. The structures were all built into each other or so close together that there was no space between them at all, forming veritable walls of plaster, mortar and marble illuminated by lights of all shades like oversized, mismatched lanterns, their gleam caught in the gentle waves. Dozens of other boats dotted the canal around him, some moored to the docks that ran along the edge of the canal, some slipping into the shadow of the bridge behind him, which, though identical in design, could not be any more different in its condition; it wasn't merely intact, but brilliantly cared for, not a single crack or blemish to be seen in its surface at a cursory glance. And above, a brilliant, golden moon hung in a sky so dark of a blue it bordered on black, staring down at the world with a single, crazed eye, blood seeping from between its teeth as it quietly laughed into the night - one of the last signs that this world and the Demonic realms had once been connected..
And yet, none of what he saw in any way compared to what he heard.
The incomprehensible combination of thousands of voices all speaking, shouting, and laughing at once, hundreds of conversations blending into one, too far away to hear, but too close to possibly just ignore.
When he turned to face it, he could see them. The humans, going about their evenings, all blissfully unaware of the Witch that was suddenly in their midst, crossing the bridge every which way in droves; even the people in the boats seemed to pay him no heed, evidently assuming he had just been hidden by some corner or shadow, if they had even noticed him at all. Instead, they kept their attention to each other, enjoying their evenings as if all were right in the world.
He had known coming into this world that humans, on the whole, had grown accustomed to a relative sort of peace; most of the fighting they did now was among themselves, rather than focusing on any larger threat. Demons, Witches, Kishin Eggs - they were all left to the Reaper and his little school. For the most part, humans had grown placid, complacent, content with their century-long at best lives upon this miserable, nigh Magic-less mudball they called a world, the only true threats among them being the few Weapons and Meisters that rose to oppose Magic and its natural course.
It wasn't as though he didn't take the threat seriously - impossible as it was, as it should have been, the Reaper had won. Magic had been sundered, and the Old Witch severed this world's connection to the Demonic Realms, save a few isolated portals, out of necessity. No matter how few, foolish or misguided these humans were, that did not change that the servants of Death posed a very real danger that only a truly arrogant fool would willingly ignore.
And yet, actually seeing this crowd, the complete lack of fear in their faces, in their voices as they went about their nights…
It was all… disarming, somehow. As if he'd expected to enter a lion's den, and somehow instead wandered into a playground.
"... focus," he muttered, once again taking up the heavy wooden pole, "You don't have time to be messing around."
Thankfully, it didn't take him long to find a small alcove to tuck away his boat; letting the staff's Magic come undone, he watched as the pieces sank beneath the water once more, marking the alcove for later before clambering up the side of the building. The myriad of handholds made it easy for him to scale to the rooftops, staring out over the vast expanse of the city, the seemingly infinite number of lights shining up from between the buildings…
He shook his head, and sat down, checking his notes one last time, "If I'm right, I'm in the city of Venice… Italy… and assuming there's no outside interference, the Oracle Coven's predictions state that the Palisman should be in this rough area within a few days…" his eyes narrowed, "At the very least, it hasn't exactly been subtle with its Soul Wavelength - I should be able to track it down the second it appears… but still, that's not a whole lot of time to work with…"
Finally, he sighed, snapping his notebook shut and stowing it back in his bag.
Nothing to be done about it now. He'd just have to make do.
For now, the priority was scoping out the city, and finding some place to stay.
"... alright," he grunted, rising to his feet and starting across the roof tiles, footsteps silent as he stowed the Emperor's staff, "Let's get to work."
"... you've gotta be kidding me," Maka murmured.
"Believe it," Soul sounded about as despondent as she felt, "It's happening."
There were not a lot of things that could dissuade Maka Albarn from her course of action. She was not a particularly squeamish girl - she never had been. Between her love for any sort of books she could get her hands on, her dreams of becoming an Meister, and having a veritable mistress of the macabre for an older sister, the Scythe Meister was not one who often felt the need to squirm, much less turn around and walk away in a show of absolute discomfort, disgusted, distraught and dismayed in equal measure.
What was in front of her right this moment was a prospect that made her want to do exactly that.
Professor Stein idly adjusted the screw in his head, expression locked in a faraway, easygoing smile as he raised a hand to idly wave at the partners; beside him, Spirit had his hands shoved into his pockets, seeming to be doing everything he could to ignore the man beside him. His eyes briefly met hers, and the grey haired girl could see his resigned despondence, tired and reluctant, but ultimately resolute.
For a fraction of a second, she felt a pang of sympathy for the Death Scythe.
It was promptly quashed by a sense of revulsion that only made her want to turn around even more.
"... having second thoughts?" her partner queried; they were still far enough away that they would be drowned out under the thrum of the crowd.
"No," she lied, the word clipped and quick - too quick, she realised, though that did not stop her, "We're already here, the tickets are paid for, and I'm not passing up the extra credit. I just don't know why he's here…"
"Well, I doubt he's just following you around."
Her brow twitched - that had been the exact theory she had developed - but Maka didn't let her anger show, instead glancing at Soul, "What makes you say that?"
"It doesn't explain why Stein's here," her partner stated, eyes so narrow they were all but invisible under the hem of his headband.
That gave the green-eyed girl pause, eyes flicking back and forth between the two men; even she had to admit that Stein's presence significantly diminished the chances that her father was just following her around to satisfy whatever passed for parental instincts in his head.
After all, faculty members rarely went anywhere together off-campus.
There had to be a reason for it.
"... can't hang back forever," Soul mumbled.
"... no," she agreed, reluctantly.
"Stein's seen us, too."
"I know."
"So…?"
A final harsh, hissing inward breath, and she stepped forwards, fists clenched and swinging back and forth with every forward stride.
As they approached, Spirit blinked; the Death Scythe seemed genuinely surprised, clearly not having expected Maka to approach of her own accord.
She came to a halt right in front of the pair, eyes shifting back and forth between the two teachers.
"... good morning, Maka," the redhead smiled, expression and tone warm.
"Death Scythe," her voice was cold, eyes narrowed in the second she spared to glance at him.
A flicker of dejected hurt flashed in his cyan eyes before they fell to the floor, lips pulled tight into a thin line. A burst of emotion surged through Maka, something else alongside her vindictive anger - but she didn't have time to identify it before Soul stepped up beside her, hands in his pockets.
"So what're you two doing here?" he queried, the last word drawn out into a drawl by a stifled yawn, "Isn't it a little early for Mister No Soul to be getting another vacation?"
"One, rude," Spirit snorted, tone immediately hardening as his eyes sharpened, narrowing into a withering glare.
"Am I wrong though?" the younger Scythe smirked, "Just as a rule, you don't like having me around."
"Clever save," the redhead growled, "But don't pretend that wasn't a crack at my hair."
"Never said it wasn't."
"Two, I could ask you two the same thing," the Death Scythe persisted pointedly, "Though I already know the answer. You're off to Venice, right?"
"How'd you guess?" Soul asked.
"You are in my class."
Maka let her gaze be drawn to Stein, who had finally interjected, rotating the screw in his head; she had grown accustomed to that clicking sound of that screw, though she couldn't quite track whether it was sinking deeper into his skull, or emerging from it.
The clammy man chuckled, "Who do you think approved of your two-person field trip in the first place?"
"... hard to argue with that," Soul nodded, posture easygoing, but his tone betrayed his unease.
"So, what?" Maka half asked, half demanded, "Are you two tagging along to keep an eye on us?"
"No," Stein finally let his hand fall from his head, reaching for his pocket - only for the Death Scythe to immediately snatch the pack of cigarettes out of the professor's labcoat, eyes narrowed.
"Airport," Spirit warned sternly, stuffing the cigarettes into his back pocket, "No smoking area. How did you even get these through security?"
"I forgot how uptight you were," the stitched man sighed, mildly irritated, but amused all the same.
At this, the girl couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Her useless dad, uptight?
Before she could ask, and before her father could press the issue further, Stein had returned his attention to her, adjusting his glasses, "We have our own business in Italy. We'll be joining you on the same plane in London for simplicity's sake, but once we land in Italy, we'll be going our separate ways. We won't be joining you on your mission, and it's extremely unlikely we will be taking the same plane home. Sid will probably have to take over for me for a while."
"... fair enough," she murmured, "Not like I can argue either way."
"Gate G4, to London, England, please begin boarding," the intercom echoed overhead, a woman's voice, bored and tired, "I repeat, Gate G4, to London, England, is now boarding."
"Talk about timely," Spirit sighed, kneeling and pulling his bag up onto his shoulder.
"Timely indeed," Stein mused, stuffing his hands in his pockets and turning towards the gate, "Come on, Spirit."
Spirit hesitated for a moment, turning to meet Maka's eyes once more.
Her only response was to turn away, arms crossed.
A moment of silence passed before her father sighed, and slowly walked away, following his fellow professor to the gate.
"... he's gotten quieter since he got back."
"... you think?"
Soul stared into Spirit's back, eyes narrowed, as if he were trying to puzzle something out, "I know it's only been a couple days… but usually when he sees you he spazzes out entirely and tries to impress you somehow. That, or tries to threaten me."
"And?" she raised an eyebrow.
"I dunno, doesn't he seem a little… subdued to you?"
At this, Maka chewed her lip, finally turning her gaze onto her father's retreating form; in truth, she'd hadn't noticed, not really. Without any contact with Lord Death since Sid's death, by extension, there'd been no contact with the Death Scythe, either.
And yet, now that Soul mentioned it, Spirit had seemed… oddly restrained, now. Not a single moment of spazzing out; no screaming or shouting or anything of the sort.
"... do you think it might be Stein?" she asked.
"Could be. I dunno though."
"Does it really matter?"
"... I guess not."
"... well… let's hope we don't run into them again before we reach Venice," Maka adjusted the strap of her bag, "Come on. Let's get on the plane."
With that, they strode forwards towards the gate.
"... in short, Romeo and Juliet is a dumb comedy about a twenty year old man who just got dumped by his girlfriend, and then rebounded with said ex-girlfriend's twelve year old cousin, and then they got four people killed in three days, themselves included," Luz finished, finally stopping to take a breath of the salty sea air.
She was getting used to the sickly sweet of rancid flesh that was present everywhere she went these days, but it combined with the salt in the strangest of ways. As taste went, sweet and salt typically didn't meld well, especially not the sweetness of rot, but strangely enough the salt blunted the sharp edge of the stench.
King glanced up at the girl from where he scampered beside her, seeming to be raising a brow, "You sure hate this Shakespeare guy, huh?"
"Hate's a strong word," Luz stuffed her hands in her pockets, taking care where she stepped down on the rocky pathway, "But I'm not gonna lie and say I like most of what I've read, either. Everyone keeps saying he's the best writer of his time, and I just… don't see it."
Up ahead, Eda chuckled, glancing back over her shoulder as she guided Luz down the cliffs, the almost natural stone stairwell hidden nicely amidst the bluffs, "Sounds like you just haven't gotten a very good understanding of his work."
At this, the Latina blinked, "You're a Shakespeare fan, Eda?"
"In a manner of speaking. He's certainly not my favourite writer by any stretch, but I have to acknowledge decent literature when I see it," the Witch cleared the last set of steps with a final jump, turning to face her apprentice, "Taming of the Shrew and Titus Andronicus aside, at least."
"Right?" King snickered, scrabbling up onto a large rock, "Shrews aren't for taming. They exist to be trained! Into the minions of the mighty Ragnarök!"
He pumped his miniscule arms, claws clenched into fists, before crossing his arms with a downright condescending shake of his head, "What a dumb-dumb, am I right?"
"... yeah," Luz forced a smile, even though she knew King wasn't even reading the same book, much less was on the same page, "I'm not exactly a fan of those ones either."
"Can't say I blame ya," the silver haired woman nodded, "But I do think you are misjudging Bill's work a bit."
"How so?"
"In a way, you've already said it," the Owl Lady turned, gesturing for Luz to follow once more, "What's the main thing you got out of Romeo and Juliet?"
At this, the tan girl raised an eyebrow, but played along, following the Witch down the beach, "Well… it's a dumb love story where people die, right? I get that there's a blood feud between the families, but everything gets blown entirely out of proportion. That's the whole joke, isn't it? It's all one big farce."
"That's correct," Eda quipped cheerfully, raising a finger, "But you're really only understanding half of the equation. There's a second side to the farce; the drama."
Both eyebrows were raised now, the apprentice staring into the back of Eda's head, "The drama?"
"Yep," the Witch vaulted over a tree that had fallen from the cliffside above, "The farce serves as a comedic tool, you're certainly right about that, but that isn't its only purpose; it also serves to enhance the drama, which is ultimately the core of this particular tragedy."
"But that drama could have been so easily avoided," Luz insisted, hauling herself up and over the log, "If everyone had just sat down and talked, couldn't everything have been resolved without people dying?"
"Hold on," King interrupted, hopping up off the log and onto Luz's shoulder, head tilted quizzically, "Didn't you just say that the families had a blood feud?"
At this, the girl felt her mouth click shut; a sheepish blush spread across her face as Eda let out an amused snort of laughter, turning briefly to face them with a wide grin.
"I think that firmly takes talking off the table," the Demon nodded sagely, eyes closed.
"He's got you there," the Witch pointed, smile only growing wider as Luz's face burned.
"Especially with the meaty alternative of VIOLENCE!" the pup shouted, perching himself on Luz's head with both arms thrown as far upwards as he could reach, "Way more entertaining than talking!"
"Alright, alright, you've got a point," the girl conceded, raising an arm to her face as if she could physically wipe away her blush, "But that doesn't explain the whole 'falling in love at first sight and rebounding from a breakup' thing."
At this, the Witch chuckled again, "That's just the catalyst for the conflict, Luz; whether or not Romeo and Juliet are actually in love or are just flighty, hormonal kids being flighty, hormonal kids is in the eye of the beholder. Personally, I think it's the latter, but it can be read either way, and that's deliberate. Whether the tragedy lies in love being denied, in the stupidity of the protagonists, in the deaths of their loved ones along the way, or in some combination thereof, that doesn't change that there is tragedy to be found here - along with the joke of the situation blowing completely out of proportion."
The Latina hummed, frowning as the flush finally fell away from her face, "... so… it's not just one or the other?"
"Can't a joke be both funny and sad, or funny because it's sad?" the silver vixen queried, golden eyes shining as she leaned down to meet Luz at eye level.
"... I admit, I hadn't thought about it like that," the tan teen confessed, "I never put a whole lot of thought into Shakespeare in general. I just… never took much interest. I just sort of wrote it off."
"It takes a lot more than a disinterested teacher, or a teacher that puts an artist on a pedestal, to inspire actual understanding of an artist's work," the Owl Lady put a hand on the girl's shoulder, "There's a lot about Shakespeare to understand in order to fully appreciate his plays, from the psychology in the stories themselves to the historical context they were written in - and from the sound of it, neither he nor his work were taught to you in a way that encouraged that sort of understanding. I don't blame you for disregarding it, disliking it or even resenting it."
"... I think I get it," Luz started, uncertain, though she looked away from those intense golden eyes, "I still think that Romeo and Juliet were both being extremely stupid through the whole, though."
"Never said they weren't," Eda's smile didn't fade, eyes gleaming mischievously, "But if they decided to be smart and never speak to each other, we wouldn't have a story, now would we?"
At that, the human had to laugh, "You have a point there…"
The hand pulled away as her mentor turned back to the beach, "We can talk more Shakespeare later. For now, we've got some work to do."
"I've been meaning to ask," Luz picked up her pace, matching the Owl Lady's stride, "What are we doing out here?"
"You'll see~," the Witch sang.
"More like you'll smell," King grimaced, still perched on the teen's shoulder.
The girl cocked her head in query, but Eda was looking dead ahead, seeming to have no intention of answering.
She didn't need to, however, as the stench hit the Latina's nose mere seconds later.
It wasn't the faint, but constant sweetness of rot that permeated the entirety of the Isles; while it was certainly in the same vein, it was far, far stronger, an absolutely rancid reek that could only come from weeks, if not months, of steady decomposition.
Even clamping her hands firmly over her mouth and nose did nothing to alleviate the foetid funk; it was utterly invasive, snaking its way into her nose and mouth. It was beyond just smell, she could taste it in the air, and she could feel her body freeze in place at the oncoming choke…
"... someone's not used to rotting flesh," King giggled.
"You alright, Luz?"
"... I… Dios mio…" she gagged, eyes watering as she struggled to breathe, staggering to stand beside the Witch, "What… is that?..."
Eda merely gestured with her staff; Luz followed her line of sight, and felt her eyes widen at the sight before her.
It was massive; that was the only thing the Latina could immediately discern, beyond its dark, mottled green colour. It looked less like any sort of creature and more like an gargantuan garbage bag, laying shapeless on the beach and towering over everything around it, stretching dozens of feet long down the length of the beach, its surface dried and shrivelled, and its side ruptured, spilling its contents out onto the ground beside it, rendering the shore between the creature and the water less sand, and more ankle deep mud and sludge.
"One of the most amazing things a Witch'll ever see," the Witch quipped cheerily, "A carrion crawler."
"Carrion crawler?" Luz echoed, doing her best to hold her stomach down.
"Better known as a trash slug," King piped up, clambering down from the human's shoulder.
"Saw it crawling around down here on my way home yesterday. Wandered too far from the slopes, looks like," Eda mused, "With how big this one's gotten and how much it's eaten, it must not have been able to climb the cliffs - they're too sheer, and it's too heavy. High tide came in, it got blasted by a wave, and it croaked from all the salt."
"... Hell of a way to go," Luz murmured, turning her gaze back to the fallen creature; now that she knew that it was, she could make out the remains of its eyes and maw, the segmented, beak-like mouth split into six teeth that opened in a ring. They were only thing giving its shrivelled head any sort of definition, the membrane pulling away to expose bone, probably the only bones it had, the tendrils around its horrid mouth shrivelled beyond all possible use.
"Breathtaking, isn't it?" the elder vixen clapped her apprentice on the shoulder, grinning as she strode forwards and clearly enamoured with the carcass.
"That's… one way to put it," the girl hesitantly followed, keeping her nose plugged and never taking her eyes off the oversized slug, half expecting it to rear back to life in an instant and try to crush them all.
"It's a scavenger, making a living off of the fallen, and what other people throw by the wayside. Most people tend to regard 'em as pests since the smaller ones get into dumps, recycling yards, salvage sites… you name it, you'll find baby crawlers rootin' through the garbage munching on whatever they can find," Eda gave no heed to the tide of slime on the ground, trudging through it without a care as she approached the slug's burst belly, "But the more discerning Witch sees something else when they come across one of these things."
Luz frowned, eying the maw from a distance, "... an integral part of the ecosystem that breaks down what conventional predators can't?"
A harsh snort emanated from the Witch, "Well, yes, these guys can digest just about anything they can fit down their gullets, but that's not what I'm talking about."
"Then what?"
Eda wordlessly reached inside, rooting through the muck without the slightest concern or hesitation. After a moment, her eyes lit up, and with a sucking pop that made Luz's guts wrench, the Owl Lady pulled it free.
"Junk, ingredients, and the occasional artefact," she wiped away the grime, smiling at the sheen of the clockwork contraption she now held - a silver pocket watch the size of a briefcase, its long, sharp, gothic hands still ticking away despite the filth, still holding just enough shine to catch the light, "In a world full of Magic, there's bound to be scavengers that feast on Magical energy; the carrion crawler is no different. You never know what you're going to find in these things, but if you manage to catch one soon after it feeds, it's a veritable goodie bag - and whatever we don't have any use for ourselves, we can sell at a premium!"
The red-clad woman hopped down from the wound, striding back across the miniature swamp and tossing the watch onto the sand, its heavy chain not rattling so much as it was slithering with the tangled trails of sludge caught in its links. She grinned at the Latina once again, "They don't usually get this big - it's a good day when you find one that's half this size. But believe me, Luz," she smacked the creature's leathery skin with a grime-coated talon, "What you're looking at here is a genuine gold mine."
The grandeur in Eda's tone did nothing to put Luz at ease. She just looked back up at the titanic trash slug, stomach still churning, though it was more from the stench than from the sight, "... I don't like this…"
"I didn't either, first time I found one. It'll grow on ya," the pale woman turned back to the carcass, scratching her chin with her clean hand, "I don't expect you to go through the ruptured stomach on your first time through, so I'll have you start with the mouth."
"... the mouth?" the tanned teen looked to the teeth, which were clamped firmly shut, "... what am I supposed to do with that?"
Wordlessly, the Witch reached into her hair, not even requiring a second to pull out the pickaxe, its iron edge gleaming in the sunlight as she held it out to her apprentice.
"... please don't make me," Luz half croaked, half whispered, staggering back as her eyes shot back and forth between the pick and the crawler.
"Aw, c'mon, Luz," King snorted, derisive as he hopped up Eda's leg, reaching into her hair and pulling out a white beach towel. He stomped back down the sand, unfurling it and laying on the golden duckling imprinted on its surface, "It's not every day you get to pick apart a garbage carcass."
"Eh, nuts to ya both," Eda snorted, turning back to the body; she hefted the pickaxe, and drove it beneath the first tooth, the metal easily biting through dessicated flesh and between bones with a sickening crunch.
Even so, Luz watched on, unable to deny the horrific fascination as she watched, the Witch tearing through with terrifying ease every time she swung. Before long, the entire skull had been broken open, with her mentor reaching deeper and deeper into the slug.
"... so, Eda," she began, trying to keep her tone cheery, even as the heavy crunches of breaking bone continued, "I was thinking that, maybe… I could learn more about my Soul Wavelength today? Maybe work towards learning to use it?"
"Someone's eager," her mentor grunted, stopping briefly to pull out an undamaged tooth, inspecting it.
"Well, can you blame me?" the girl grinned, "You showed me so much about how it all works, and it's the first step towards learning real Magic! I can't wait to get started!"
"And yet, you're doing everything you can to avoid doing your job for the day," Eda's amused tone was paired with a knowing, half lidded glance, lips curling upwards as she met Luz's gaze.
"I-!... b-but-!... I'm not-!..." she sputtered, eyes shooting up to the corpse before meeting the Witch again, "Going from deliveries to digging through monster guts is a pretty big jump, don't you think?!"
"Not really," the woman reached inside once more, "It's not particularly hard work. Time consuming and messy, and you'll need a bath once you're done, but it's not hard."
Luz shifted her weight from foot to foot, not taking her eyes off the revolting remains. She really didn't want to go in…
"Remember what we agreed to~," the Owl Lady sang, voice mockingly melodic, "Your lessons come in exchange for your work. I'm not gonna make you, but don't expect me to teach you anything if you don't hold up your end of the deal."
Every cell in Luz's body was screaming at her to walk away. To turn around, and march back up the beach, up the stairs in the cliff, and to the Owl House. To pester Eda for a different job or even forgo lessons for the day, just to get out of the disgusting task ahead…
But eventually, she swallowed, forcing herself to step forwards.
"No es justo," she whined, pushing the roof of the mouth aside with her hand to follow the Witch; she shuddered at the texture as the flesh crinkled, all but crumbling under her touch, the surface slick with some ooze she couldn't identify. She covered her nose as best she could, trying to filter the rancid air through her shirt.
"Eres la que quiere aprender Magia," Eda chuckled, still crawling forwards.
"... so, if Magic comes from the Soul, then how do potions work?" Luz asked, desperately trying to distract herself from the situation as she crawled after her mentor.
"'Eeeey, don't think I don't see what you're doing, Luz," the smile was audible in Eda's tone.
"Hey, if I'm gonna be doing this, then shouldn't I be able to learn something on the job?" the girl insisted, "Like, you said there's magical artefacts in here. Like tomes, right? Scrolls? How do those have Magic in them? Does the slug drain the Magic from them when it eats them?"
"... clever girl," Eda chuckled, "Phrasing the question so it's related to what we're doing."
"Can't say I'm not learning from the best," despite herself, the Latina grinned.
"... Magic is not limited to the Soul," Eda began, "Magic is produced by the Soul of a Witch, but that is hardly the only source of Magic that you can find. In the Demonic Realms, Magic permeates the air, the sea, the stone and the soil, and everything that grows from it - and the Boiling Isles in particular are a place where Magic is extremely rich in everything around you. With the right skills and tools, you can harness that Magic in a myriad of ways, whether that's keeping the Magic bound into the paper of a scroll so it can be directed and used at a later point, or infused into a tome for the instruction or protection of what's written inside."
"Okay. And potions are the same way?"
"Potioneers are the best in the business at harnessing the Magic inherent to objects - they have to be, in order to make even mediocre potions, since they're taking all different kinds of Magic in their ingredients and channelling it into a harmonious, usable physical medium made for a specific purpose. Screw that up, and only the Titan knows what effects it's gonna have, and that's if it doesn't just blow up in your face," the Witch explained, "Oftentimes, potioneers have skill making Magical artefacts as well because of the relationship between the skills - some of the best spellbook binders and staff makers in history practised as potioneers at some point in their lives."
"That's incredible," Luz murmured, "And… that's all part of how the slug survives? It absorbs the Magic from what it eats?"
"Yep. Which is why you gotta be careful about what you throw away or leave out, but it's also why it's good to dig through these things when they turn up; sometimes you'll find something it only recently ate and hasn't fully corroded yet, or something it couldn't digest."
"Will I get to read tomes and make potions?"
"Potions, maybe, but don't hold your breath on tomes, kid. If I'm teaching you Magic, I'm teaching you the unpredictable beauty of Wild Magic. None of that Coven approved, watered down garbage they teach in schools."
The girl failed to catch the note of frustration in the Witch's tone, "There's Magic schools here!?"
"'Course there are. Not that they're good for much - they don't teach any sort of resourcefulness," Eda grunted, continuing to dig away briefly before giving a satisfied nod, speaking again before Luz could press the matter further, "Alright, here's a good spot for you to start."
Luz squinted through her stench-induced tears, struggling to find what the Witch was indicating, "... what'm I looking at?"
Wordlessly, Eda conjured a light; now, Luz could see the object lodged in the crawler's throat, gnarled and twisted and casting a ghastly shadow against the mottled flesh of the surrounding flesh.
"... is that a branch?" she queried.
"From a Maleficent's Briarwood, from the look of it. Relatively fresh, too - still has some of its deadheads."
"Is it magical or worth something?"
"The branch itself? No - the magic's all been sucked out of it already, but if you were to get the wood to a carpenter, you'd probably be able to sell it for a decent price," the pale woman pointed to the few dead flowers that remained on the twisted wood, petals having long fallen away, "The dead flowers, on the other hand, are definitely worth our while."
"Oh, yeah!" at this, Luz couldn't help but smile, "The deadheads are full of new seeds, right? Once they're pollinated, all the petals fall off and the plant starts trying to make more seeds to spread!"
"Heh! Look at you, knowing exactly what I want 'em for," Eda's laughter was openly approving now, "You garden?"
"Mom did for a while," the Latina corrected, "She used to have me help look after plants every now and again."
"Well, get in there and grab 'em, then."
The girl swallowed, then held her breath, forcing herself to wriggle forwards, her movements causing the shadows on the putrid walls to dance as she moved; the blackened wood gnarled against the desiccated flesh, small, twisted thorns digging in like claws.
Nonetheless, she reached out, and started picking the deadheads, one by one, trying to get as many as she could into her pocket without getting them caught in the grime she was kneeling in and desperately trying to ignore. One by one, she pulled them loose, until the last few were trapped behind the branch…
"C'mon," she muttered, gripping the wood and trying to pry it just far enough that she could get the last deadheads free.
"... Luz?" Eda started.
Flakes fell from the surface of the flesh, the walls oozing underneath, and she stubbornly clenched her jaw against the twisting of her stomach, refusing to let herself puke-
"Luz, that's enough, you can leave the rest-"
The branch snapped.
Its twisted, talon-twigs fell.
The fragile flesh tore.
And a fresh wave of equal parts sludge and stench washed over Luz, physically pushing her back as it struck her full in the chest. It pushed up her nose, into her mouth, her mind going entirely blank as she struggled to process the absolute abhorrence that was flooding her senses.
She scuttled back, away from the flood, away from the rot, towards what little light she could see through the blanket of blech that was now coating her. It was in her clothes, in her hair, in her shoes. She clambered out on all fours, unable to smell the salt of the sea as its waves crashed against the shore.
The girl couldn't help it. She couldn't hold it down.
Her stomach ejected everything she had eaten that morning, the burning in her throat and the taste of her own bile comparatively pleasant against what it was currently washing away.
"... eugh. Gross," she heard King say, though she couldn't tell which direction he was in.
Behind her, she heard the sound of squelching, and the Witch's long sigh as she pulled herself out of the slug's insides.
"... well," the elderly magus sighed, "That could've gone better."
"You think?" the Demon snarked.
"I don't see you helping, King," the Owl Lady's tone was one of warning.
"Weh."
Luz finally reached up to wipe her eyes, looking back over her shoulder.
Eda's dress and hair were soaked in green bile, a hand on her hip as she stared at the other, face stuck in a slight grimace.
The teen winced, and then looked away, guilt pooling in her stomach, "... I'm sorry…"
"Hey," the silver vixen's voice held a smile, "It's nothing a little Magic can't fix."
Luz looked back up at the Witch; Eda flexed her hand for a moment before snapping her fingers. Immediately, the green began to slough off her form, out of the fabric of her dress, out of the thick mane of her coif - all of it falling to the ground in thick waves of gunk. Before long, it was all gone, not leaving so much as a stain behind on her skin or outfit, left in a ring around the woman's feet.
"Alright, your turn," Eda beckoned, "Stand up. It'll make this easier for me to clean."
Wordlessly, the girl obeyed, unsteadily rising to her feet; another snap of Eda's fingers saw the sludge pouring off her body, all but peeling itself from her skin, from her hair, and out of her clothes. She could even feel what was left being gently pulled out of her mouth and nose, drips coaxed out and only leaving the phantom of the unholy stench behind, leaving her standing in the center of another ring of green.
"... gross," Luz shuddered, stepping back out of the ring.
"I hear ya."
"What… happened in there?" the girl asked, looking back up at the Witch.
"The branch was lodged in there deeper than I thought," Eda crossed her arms, "When it snapped and fell, it tore open the next stomach. Must've been fuller and closer to rupturing than I expected."
The girl shuddered, reaching into her pockets. She blinked as she felt the deadheads, pulling them out. She managed a smile, holding them up, "... at least we got these?..."
The red-clad Witch snickered, accepting the would-be seeds, "At least there's that."
"So, Luz?" King quipped cheerfully, "You ready to go back to dumpster diving in a trash slug?"
She couldn't even bring herself to look at the carcass. She turned away, arms crossed firmly over her stomach, "I… really don't wanna go back in there."
"I don't blame ya," Eda glanced back at the slug, "Maybe going from deliveries to a trash slug dissection was a bit of a jump after all."
"... so… what now?" Luz queried.
"Well, I can't let this thing sit here - won't be long before other scavengers come looking for a feast," Eda turned back to it, "I'll keep hackin' away at it. I should be able to get all the best and most valuable stuff out of this thing within the hour."
"... and what about me?" the girl pressed.
The Witch glanced back with a coy smile, "You tellin' me you don't wanna scrub yourself down in the shower after that?"
Luz couldn't hold down her shudder; despite the ring of green that was still laying on the beach as evidence to the contrary, she could suddenly feel a new layer of gunk clinging to her body like a second skin, "Well now that you say that, I do!"
"Then go take one," Eda waved her off, turning back to the body with the pickaxe in hand, "You put in a good effort. I'll show you something later, at the very least."
With that, she began digging once again, idly tossing a tuba over her shoulder, whereupon it promptly landed on King's head, leaving the little Demon trapped, his shrill, panicked cries echoing inside the brass horn.
Luz turned away, trudging back up the beach as she ran her hands up and down her arms, as if it would somehow help slough away the feeling of ickiness that was still clinging to her skin, genuinely struggling to keep her spirits up.
Digging for garbage in an oversized corpse hadn't been on her list of things to do to begin with.
Cleaning spells or no, being flooded with rot and sludge had only served to make it worse. And the fading stench did nothing to push the sensations, or the embarrassment, away.
"... good with the bad," she huffed, trying to steady her breathing, finally making her way back to the top of the cliffside path, "Eda'll teach you something later… good with the bad. Just go back to the House, and-"
"You can do it!"
… the Latina come to a halt, blinking.
"You can!"
… she definitely hadn't imagined it that time.
"... mysterious voice of encouragement?" the girl wondered, turning off the path to follow the source.
It only took a brief push through the foliage to find it.
Sitting on the edge of the clearing, was another girl, eyes hidden behind her glasses and the mess of wild, dark green hair, her purple sleeves and leggings protruding from a dark grey tunic beneath her heavy shoulder cape, idly kicking her boots against the heavy pot before her
"... no," Luz gasped, a new smile breaking out on her face, "Little Witch girl…"
Finally. Done. First semester.
Unfortunately the next one starts in May... hoorayyyy.. here's hoping I can get a bit more accustomed to school flow and manage my writing time better, eh?
Please don't bring up anything that's in the newer episodes, please. I'm yet to watch Any Sport in a Storm due to a general lack of energy. Hopefully I'll be able to catch up over the next couple days.
Thank you for your patience everyone. With any luck I'll be able to do more consistent updates soon. In the meantime, have a tease for a Willow, Amity and Gus appearance.
...
Spanish Translations for the chapter:
"No es justo." ("No fair.")
"Eres la que quiere aprender Magia," ("You're the one who wants to learn Magic.")
...
Thank you all so much for your patience. Please be sure to leave your thoughts below! I hope you all enjoyed the 20th chapter of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!