I do not own Soul Eater or Owl House.
If I did, I wouldn't keep putting off the season two finale of the Owl House because it keeps making me anxious every time I go to watch it...
Also, a shoutout to Luci Christian, the voice behind Medusa Gorgon, who I had the pleasure to meet at Comic Con earlier this year! I don't know if you've gotten the chance to read this story, Luci - I get that the life of a VA is a busy one - but if you have, I certainly hope you've enjoyed this wild ride so far! Thanks for your time at Comic Con this year! It was a pleasure to meet you!
Willow Park's day hadn't exactly started off with the brilliant sun she'd been hoping for.
Well, technically it had - the sun shone right through her window and woke her up at her desk, but that hardly been any sort of comfort when it was proof that yet another all-nighter had gone entirely to waste.
Once again, she'd gotten absolutely nowhere despite hours upon hours of work. She didn't know when she'd fallen asleep or how much sleep she was actually operating on, and the Abomination gunk had dried across her face and hair; with her fathers being just as hopeless at Abomination magic as she was, Willow had been forced to spend more than half a segment scrubbing it off of her scalp and skin, leaving her head feeling raw. By the time she was finished, she didn't have any time left to try to put something, anything, workable together out of the sluicing sludge that now sat equal parts motionless and worthless in the cauldron she had to lug around in her wheelbarrow.
Nonetheless, she forced cheer into her voice as she stood up, pacing, "You can do it! Even if you get a bad grade, it's not a reflection on you as a Witch! And my parents are right," she insisted, "There are better opportunities in this track! Now get to school!" She stomped forwards-
And felt her heart skip a beat at the snap that followed.
She didn't need to look down to know what had happened; immediately, she had fallen to her knees, cradling the broken, crushed flower in her hands.
"Oh, no, I'm so sorry! Here!" She didn't even bother to check her surroundings. Immediately, her Soul Wavelength surged, green light flowing through her palms in a torrent; all at once, the snapped stem and the torn petals began to repair, as swift as it was beautiful. Plant fibres knitted themselves back together, petals smoothed and returned to their original shape; within a split second, the flower was standing tall and proud once again, as though her misstep had never happened.
"Tough little guy, aren't ya?" she pulled her hands away, happily resting her chin in her palm, "Well, that's good to see. It's good to know you'll grow up strong, little friend."
"... Willow."
The voice made her blood run cold; so wrapped up in her panic, having stepped on the flower, she hadn't even realised someone had come up behind her.
Much less the one person that she didn't want to see this morning.
She slowly turned, looking up over her shoulder; perched atop an immaculately polished black iron cauldron, her own wheelbarrow far better constructed, the girl peered down at her from the corner of her brilliant gold eye, lips curled downwards in a sign of clear disapproval, as though WIllow had somehow been the one to distract her from the book in her hand. Her hair was green, but it was several shades too bright to be the colour of any plant Willow knew - something that privately infuriated her - and she wore the same short black cloak and purple sleeves that denoted her as a student of the Abomination Track.
But all that was nothing compared to Amity's Soul.
Burning a brilliant violet hue, it seemed fairly small at first glance - but anything more than a cursory look revealed that it wasn't due to weakness, but focus, taking all of the already powerful prodigy's being and refining it into the most intense of flames, concentrated to the point of melting stone and shearing through metal. Her wavelength was every bit as controlled, not so much washing over Willow in pulses as much as it exerted a constant pressure, the dark-haired girl unable to pick out the individual beats.
She'd have wondered if it were deliberate show of force, were this not the default state of Amity's Soul these days.
"... hi, Amity," Willow finally forced herself to respond, rising to her feet.
Casually, Amity snapped her book shut, hopping down from atop her cauldron, tone idle, but chiding, "You know you're not supposed to be mixing Magic."
"I wasn't," Willow muttered, breaking her gaze back to the flower, "Does this little guy look like he's got any Abomination goo on him?"
"Don't be obstinate, Willow. You know what I'm talking about."
She grit her teeth, refusing to look Amity in the eye as she approached, the prodigious Witchling standing several inches taller than her.
Even so, Amity continued, "If you wanted to be doing Plant Magic, then you should have joined the Plant Track. You are in the Abomination Track; therefore, you practise Abomination Magic."
Willow didn't respond as Amity stopped mere inches away. She kept her gaze low, hoping the other girl would lose interest and leave if she refused to play…
"Willow?"
"... I know," she finally whispered, feeling her whole being shrink as she uttered the words.
A nod, accompanied by an approving pulse from the other Witchling's Soul. When Amity spoke again, her tone was still chiding, but it had taken on a more cheerful, condescending cadence - one that could only stem from the reinforcement of the hierarchy, satisfied with Willow's submission, "I know it's hard, but believe me when I say this is for your own good. The rules are for everyone's benefit - and I'm sure that you'll get the hang of Abominations sooner or later."
Despite herself, Willow could feel her jaw clench even tighter, her teeth grinding against each other as she bit down on the barbed arrows that threatened to fly from her tongue, anger held in check by a bizarre, but all too tangible fear.
"... speaking of," Amity turned on her heel, examining Willow's cauldron, "how's your Abomination coming along?"
"... fine," Willow managed, "Just… just fine."
"Show me."
The green-eyed girl's heart skipped a beat, dread abruptly sprouting in her stomach like a thorned, black root, "What?"
"You heard me," Amity turned to face her once more, "Show me. I want to see your progress."
"W-Well, I-I-" Willow stammered, eyes darting back and forth between her cauldron and Amity's inquiring stare, "I… but…"
An eyebrow slowly crept up the young Blight's forehead, "Is something wrong, Willow?"
"... he's shy," Willow finally managed, her voice, already croaky from lack of sleep, coming out a helpless squeak.
It was immediately clear that the prodigy saw through the lie; her eyes fell half lidded, her lips drawn in a thin line, brows knit together and her posture all but screaming 'Really?'
"... he's shy," she said instead, her tone flat.
"... yes," Park insisted, having no clue what else to say, "He's shy."
"A Magical construct with an artificial, extremely basic Soul, made specifically to follow commands, with no real will of its own, is shy," Amity repeated.
"... yes," Willow finally agreed, helpless.
A long, slow sigh escaped the Blight as she raised her hand, closing her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose, disappointment tangible in her tone, "Willow… it's not a plant. It's a construct. You shouldn't be anthropomorphizing to begin with, but certainly not with an Abomination."
"Y-Yeah, well-"
"Just show me," the green-haired girl snapped, interrupting, "We don't have a lot of time, and if there's anything I can do to improve class performance on the whole, I would like to do it before we present."
Willow's eyes shot back down to the cauldron, trying and failing to swallow the lump in her throat; Amity wasn't backing down. Going off her tone and expression, she was seconds away from turning and animating the awful attempt at an Abomination herself - and Willow doubted that even Amity would be able to hold it together for long.
She didn't want to. It was bad enough that she was going to fail today.
She didn't want to humiliate herself any more than she already had to.
Nonetheless, Willow caved; she raised her hand, trying her best to feel out the magic, even as she failed to ignore the shiver of disgust as she reached out with her Soul. It was like reaching into sludge - not the pleasant cool of smooth clay or loamy earth, but a stomach-churning sucking mire of artificial, chemical purple.
It was taking everything she had just to get it to move, but move it did. She gave it shape, physically moving her hands as if to mould the cauldron's contents into a humanoid body; it began to rise, the cauldron's lid beginning to lift, and for a moment, Willow could scarcely believe what she was seeing, the glowing greek eyes peeking out from the darkness, a dark purple hand reaching out…
But just as quickly, it began to lose shape; the cauldron, off balance, swiftly toppled out of the cart. The lid bounced and rolled away briefly before hitting a tree, falling to the ground, and the Abomination all but disintegrated into a watery mess that spilled across the forest floor, a sticky purple puddle that would be impossible to clean without help. A single eye was awash in the muck, looking back and forth between the two girls before slowly blinking, an ingredient that hadn't fully incorporated into the mixture…
"... what did you do?"
Willow could scarcely bring herself to look at Amity, whose expression was somewhere between incredulous disbelief and appalled disappointment as she stared at what should have been the Park girl's Abomination; she raked both hands through her hair, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, "It's been three weeks, Willow, how are you still struggling with the most basic of constructions? I can't even see a Soul in this!"
"I've been trying, okay!?" Willow started, "Professor Hermonculus' instructions aren't clear or intuitive, and I don't take to Abomination Magic the way you do!"
"You don't take to any Magic, Willow!" Amity snapped, "This is exactly why everyone calls you Half-A-Witch!"
Silence; Willow screwed her eyes shut at the nickname, the sting all too familiar as she ground her teeth, fists firmly clenched at her sides. When she finally opened her eyes again, blinking back the tears, Amity had crouched down, sticking a finger into the violet goop and examining it with a careful eye.
"... there's not a whole lot I can do about this right now," she muttered, raising a hand, her own Soul Wavelength pulsing; all at once, the sludge began to recede, flowing back into Willow's cauldron in a swiftly receding tide, "Frankly, it might be easier to start over from scratch than try to fix this."
"How'm I supposed to do that before class starts?" Willow asked, hoping it sounded less like a whine than she thought.
"You're not," the Blight sighed, picking up the lid and putting it back on top of the cauldron, "But I can stall for time. You know how Professor Hermonculus likes to show off his best students; I'll help you make a new one over lunch and you can present in the afternoon. It won't be anything impressive, but you'll have something to show, and it'll at least get you a passing grade."
"... don't you have lunch with Boscha today?"
"You're obviously struggling, and as class rep, it's my responsibility to help my peers when they're floundering," Amity returned to her own wheelbarrow, climbing atop the cauldron, "Boscha can either reschedule or stop being such a whiny brat when things don't go her way. Worse comes to worst, I remind her why she only got the position of grudgby captain after I left the team."
The darker-haired girl didn't respond, simply looking on as Amity snapped her fingers; the Abomination within her own cauldron immediately came to life, flowing up and out of its iron confines before settling into a decidedly human shape, its eyes glowing green in the morning light, absolutely towering over the both of them; it had to be standing at least ten feet tall, the Soul within simple, but gleaming, the same purple hue as Amity's own Soul. It reached down, picking up the wheelbarrow by the handles, and plodding forwards.
"See you at lunch, Willow," Amity waved, taking out her book, "We'll get your Abomination sorted out yet."
Willow didn't dare move until the young Blight was well out of view, and the sounds of her Abomination's lumbering footsteps faded into total silence; her lips pulled back in a grimace as she turned to her own wheelbarrow, glaring furiously at her cauldron.
"'See you at lunch, Willow,'" she mimicked, anger blazing in every word as she gripped the handles, lifting and pushing further down the path, "'We'll get your Abomination sorted out yet. We'll make you a new one, and by that, I mean I'll make you a new one and you'll present something I made for you!'"
Suddenly, the wheelbarrow lurched, tipping sideways; the Witchling panicked, Wavelength flaring as she tried to pull it back the other way… only to pull too hard, her strength combined with the wheelbarrow's newfound momentum causing it to fall back in the other direction. The cauldron smashed to the ground, once again spilling its contents across the forest floor in another tide of vile violet sludge.
Willow was already screaming wordless, bloody murder into the forest before it even occurred to her that she wouldn't be able to clean it up on her own - not that the occurrence helped. She raked her fingers across her scalp, teeth grit as the growl in her throat escalated into a dull roar, her Wavelength writhing around her and causing the trees to bend and bow with her anger, "I HATE THIS!"
She heard the earth begin to break as the roots under the soil writhed like serpents, churning up the ground and crushing the stones below the soil; even despite her anger, she made an effort to keep them steady, not wanting to kill the trees in her fury. Instead, she felt their roots grow, digging deeper into the ground even as their trunks swelled, their branches twisting in the morning light, reaching down around her in a gesture that seemed somewhere between protective and calming.
But she didn't want to be calm.
She wanted to scream, and keep screaming.
"I HATE GETTING BAD GRADES! I HATE THIS STUPID TRACK!" she snarled, those smug hazel eyes peering down at her in her mind, "AND I HATE YOU!"
"I'm sorry!"
The new voice made Willow's heart skip a beat, her outburst thrown off at the sound of panic and regret; she looked around, trying to identify the new noise, her anger retreating, but not entirely, "Who said that?"
"U-Up here!"
Finally, the young Park directed her gaze up… and felt herself blanch as she saw the girl, bound in branches and hoisted high in the air, eyes shooting back and forth between Willow and the trees in a mix of transfixed awe and pleading panic. Her hair was short, a few shades darker brown than her light mocha skin, and dressed fairly bizarrely in an outfit Willow couldn't quite place; obviously, her coat was a hooded one, but who wore a hooded coat with short sleeves? Who wore long pants under shorts? For that matter, who wore shorts that short? And none of the colours matched either…
But that wasn't the strangest part; the girl seemed to be keeping her Soul hidden, with only a basic, basic flare visible in the base of her stomach. Vibrant, but… simple. Colourless, shapeless. Utterly blank, even.
"O-OH!" Willow felt her rage dissipate entirely, now panicking herself, "Oh, I am so sorry-! I didn't know anyone else was here!"
"I-It's okay! I'm fine!" the girl assured, managing a smile, "Just, please let me down?"
Immediately, Willow flared her Soul, far more calmly this time; as gently as possible, the branches began to lower, setting the strange girl's feet firmly on the ground before slowly pulling away, losing their arched, taloned form as the trees resumed their former tall, straight posture.
"I'm so, so sorry," the green-eyed girl repeated, wanting to snatch the strange girl's wrists to look, but hesitant in case she somehow worsened any damage she might have done in her tantrum, "I-I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"All good - the thorns only went through a couple layers of skin," the girl assured, smiling broadly and holding up her arms - indeed, only faint scrapes were left behind on her wrists, with no blood to be seen, "You mostly just surprised me, but it's not the worst thing I've been through today."
"I find that a little hard to believe," Willow grumbled, but she didn't argue, instead opting to take a closer look at the newcomer; it was only now she realized how lanky the mocha child was, her whole body long and thin, as if all of her growth had gone straight into her height and failed to give her much of anything by the way of bulk. She couldn't have been much older or younger than the Park herself was, but she had several inches over the dark-haired Witchling, to the point where Willow was distinctly looking up to meet her gaze. Her smile was open, her eyes wide, earnest and fascinated - boring right into Willow's own with an almost uncomfortable focus.
"Willow, right?" she piped up.
"I'm sorry?"
"Willow," the girl repeated, "That's your name, isn't it? I heard while you were talking with… who was that?" she pointed off into the woods where Amity had disappeared.
"Oh," the Park's expression soured, "Amity. And, yes, my name's Willow. Willow Park."
"Luz!" the tanned teen grinned, holding out a hand, "Luz Noceda!"
"Luz," Willow echoed, testing how it felt on her tongue; short and soft. Bright, even; she couldn't help but smile as she accepted the girl's hand, "It's nice to meet you, Luz."
"The pleasure's mine!" Luz shook enthusiastically, and Willow found herself knocked off kilter - not at strength of Luz's grip, but at the lack thereof. She seemed to be putting a lot of effort into the movement, but it had none of the strength to match; she wasn't even that strong, but if the Witchling had wanted to, she could have easily stopped the tanned teen's hand in place. Not the effort it took to write with a pen, but certainly the effort it took to lift and move a new tree out of its pot.
"So, what you did earlier. That was plant magic, right?" Luz asked excitedly, her eyes shooting back up to the trees briefly before locking onto Willow's eyes again, "That was you, with the trees?"
"... yeah," Willow said, clutching one hand in the other, "I… I'm not supposed to be doing plant magic, but… yeah, that was me."
"You're not?" the tanned teen blinked, seeming perplexed, "Why not?"
At this, Willow had to blink, now focusing more closely on the girl's features; at a glance, she couldn't see any sort of deception in the other teen's face or posture. Didn't she know about the Tracks? The Covens?
For that matter, why couldn't Willow get a good read on her Soul? No Witch should have a Soul that weak, that featureless, unless…
Her eyes narrowed, studying Luz with a newfound discretion; it wasn't as though it was uncommon for Witches or Demons to use Soul Protect when they didn't want to be noticed. Combined with certain cloaks or even just some decently thick walls, it could make a Witch or Demon all but entirely invisible. But Soul Protect just by itself in the Boiling Isles served to draw its own sort of attention - Souls here were all strongly developed, after all.
Furthermore, most of those who used Soul Protect tended to be powerful, underhanded, or both; nobody learned to use Soul Protect just because. It was too powerful, too difficult a spell for anyone to learn just because they did a little light reading; if someone knew Soul Protect, they knew it for a reason.
Before Willow could ponder further, however, the distant ring of bells echoed in her ears.
"... dammit," she whimpered; in all the excitement, she had almost entirely forgotten about class.
"... that your school bell?" Luz asked.
"Yeah. Must be third segment already."
"Segment?"
That made Willow pause, but just as quickly she shook the thought off, kneeling to try to scoop what she could of her Abomination goo back into her cauldron, "I gotta get to class. It was nice meeting you, Luz."
"Wait a second!" the mocha girl started, all excitement again, "You go to a Magic school, right?"
"Yes," the pale teen grunted, managing to suppress a shudder as the poorly-mixed ingredients stuck to her hand.
"... I think I have an idea that might get both of us something we want."
"Luz-"
Before the green-eyed Witchling could really start her sentence, Luz had all but leaped belly first into the violet sludge, making Willow suppress a squeal and back up to avoid being splashed; she splayed arms and legs haphazardly as she wriggled around in the muck, seeming to be trying to coat herself in as much of it as possible. After a moment, she looked up, virtually unrecognizable as she wiped the slime from her eyes, grinning.
"Whm-ff-mm-" she started, then stopped. She grimaced, then wiped off her lips with a hand, spitting some of the stuff out and making Willow suppress a gag before Luz tried again, "What if I were your project?"
"... come again?"
"You need an Abomination thingy to present to your teacher, right?" she now sat cross-legged in the goo, "I wanna learn more about how Magic works, and… well, my teacher's gonna be busy for a while. You need a solid abomination to present so you don't get a bad grade. If I act as your 'Abomination,' you won't need that Amity girl's help! You'll get a good grade, I'll learn about Magic, and everyone goes home happy!"
At this, Willow couldn't help it; she was now far too confused, and her curiosity too thoroughly piqued, to not pursue the rabbit hole in front of her, "Okay, okay, slow down… you want to learn more about Magic?"
"Yeah," Luz nodded, "I only started learning a couple days ago. I want to learn as much as I can!"
"... tha-that doesn't make any sense," the Witchling insisted, "How are you using Soul Protect if you only started learning Magic a couple of days ago? That's a spell that can take years of practice."
This time, it was Luz's turn to blink, "Soul Protect?"
"You know, the spell that hides your Soul Wavelength? It was made to make your Soul seem like… like.."
Willow trailed off, the thought finally crossing her mind. She stared openly at Luz now, trying to read as much of her Soul as she could, feel out all its contours, its colours, its intensity… only to find just the most basic of Souls, emitting a mix of concern and confusion, of excitement and eagerness.
It was insane. It was- well, maybe not impossible, but extremely unlikely all the same.
But it was the only possibility that made any sense.
"... like a human's," Willow finally finished, perplexed concern taking her over, everything else in the world seeming to just disappear at the realisation.
Luz's gaze finally broke away; she ran her hands nervously back and forth through the slime around her, lips caught in a smile that was contrite, anxious.
"... you're not a Witch… are you?" Willow asked.
"... I… thought that was obvious," the girl chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of her head, "You… couldn't tell?"
"I thought you were using Soul Protect to hide your Soul," Willow knelt and reached out, cupping both sides of Luz's head to pull her in for a better look, "... it's weird."
"What is?" Luz queried, reaching up and pulling the Witchling's hands away.
"You look just like a Witch," the darker haired girl wiped her hands on her leggings before crossing her arms, frowning.
"The round ears didn't give me away?" the human asked, brushing her hair back to show her indeed rounded ears.
"Some Witches have those - a lot have pointy ears, and a lot have round ears, it's not that uncommon," Willow snickered, but then grew serious again, rubbing her chin, "But your Soul, it's… it's so small. I wasn't looking for you, mind, but I didn't even sense it before. I thought you were skulking around for some reason and got caught up in the trees, but… well, it explains why Amity didn't sense you either."
"... huh," Luz murmured, "First time anyone's ever said I'm easy to overlook."
"Sorry, sorry," Willow pressed her hands to her forehead, "I'm just… trying to process this. There's a human sitting right in front of me. I don't know when the last time there was a human on the Boiling Isles - that we know of, at least."
"Well, there's one here now," the mocha girl grinned, pushing herself to her feet, "And we have a class to get to!"
"I-I'm not sure that's a good idea," Willow stood, "What if someone senses you?"
"Hey, Abominations have Souls too, right?" she gestured to the goo around her, "We'll just explain it away as you making a very good Abomination!"
"Well…" the Witchling trailed off, biting her lip…
"Come on, we can at least try," Luz insisted. She clutched an arm, casting her gaze down to the ground, tone sympathetic as she continued,"I know what it's like to get a bad grade after trying so hard."
The green-eyed girl continued to chew at her lip for a long moment before finally sighing, "... well, it's not like I can just leave you here all by yourself..."
"YESSSSS!" the goop-clad teen pumped her arms, "I'm gonna learn Magic!"
Willow managed a smile at Luz's enthusiasm, but it hid the flood of questions that swirled about her mind. How was the human even here, in the Boiling Isles? Had there been some sort of freak twist of Magic that stranded her here? Or had she somehow been stolen away from the human realm?
Moreover… she was pretty firmly convinced she was going to learn Magic, either from some teacher or at Hexside. Didn't she know?... no matter how clever or determined humans could be, cleverness and determination couldn't change the fundamental difference between a human and a Witch.
A human Soul can't create or harness Magic, after all.
"Just lemme get myself totally covered," Luz's words snapped the Witchling from her thoughts as she toppled back into the muck, waving her limbs back and forth to coat herself as much as possible.
"Hold still for a second," Willow stated, "I need to try something before we know this'll work."
She closed her eyes again, breathing deep; she reached out to the violet vileness that surrounded Luz, leaning into the disgusting sensation it left upon her Soul as she ran her Wavelength through it.
She didn't need to make a whole Abomination, not if this worked.
She just needed to hold it against Luz's body.
She felt it begin to move, to slough up and off the ground in waves and onto the human's form; it swiftly went from a thin, but sticky liquid coat across a lanky body to a thicker, more gelatinous shell, forming overtop of the human and using her body as an effective skeleton.
Before long, the human was entirely gone; in her place lay a large, purple mass of slime in a vaguely humanoid shape, with only faint, shadowy indents for Luz to see and breathe through. Much to Willow's surprise, the gunk also served as a camouflage for her Soul, the Magic infused into the fluid obfuscating the brightness of Luz's Wavelength; if she weren't the one holding the goo together, Willow could have easily mistaken it for a genuine Abomination.
"Okay," Willow nodded, "I need you to stand up?"
Slowly, Luz obeyed, her motions unsteady with the coating of gunk across her whole body; she held out her arms, examining them, but it was hard to tell what she was feeling with her face totally hidden by the coating.
"... this is so weird," Luz murmured, her voice muffled by her disguise, but no less enthusiastic, "Kinda reminds me of the time I got locked in a pizzeria overnight by accident."
"What's a pit-zer- nevermind," Willow refocused, examining the amorphous shell, "... I'm surprised at how well this is holding together… this is way easier than holding an actual Abomination in one piece."
"So it's working?"
"Yeah… but you gotta change the way you talk," the Witchling noted, rubbing her chin, "Abominations don't… have great vocabularies, generally? They don't talk like people, they really can only string together basic sentences; only super advanced Abominations made by high-ranking Coven members are capable of complex speech."
"What, like," Luz abruptly slumped, staggering forwards with jerky, exaggerated motions, "Yeeeeeesssss, Masstaaaaaaaaar…"
At this, the green-eyed girl couldn't help but giggle, "Actually, that's pretty close! Just do that, and do what I tell you to do, and I think it should be smooth sailing."
"Got it!" the other teen gave what Willow assumed was supposed to be a thumbs up.
"Alright, I guess we're doing this," Willow reached down, resetting her overturned wheelbarrow, "I'm gonna have to ask you to get in the cauldron. It should be big enough for you, but I'm sorry if it's a little uncomfortable."
"I'll be fine!" Luz stated cheerfully, climbing up onto the wheelbarrow and into the cauldron, "I can handle a couple hours of discomfort if it means learning some Magic! Eda's gonna be so impressed with how much I know when I get back!"
Eda. Where had Willow heard that name before…?
Another piece of the puzzle - but the puzzle would have to wait.
As it was, they were already running the risk of being late.
"Try not to make too much noise," the Witchling said, putting the lid back on top of the cauldron, "I'd rather not draw attention. The more we can keep you in there, and the less we have to actually keep up the facade, the better."
"You got it, Willow!"
With that, Willow released her hold on the purple goo. She gripped the wheelbarrow handles, lifted, and set off towards Hexside School of Magic and Demonics, shaken free of her anxieties.
All but one, at least.
… what was she going to do with Luz when this was over?...
She was running out of testing grounds.
Or perhaps more accurately, she was running out of time.
She idly tapped her pen against the paper as she looked over the maps with a clinical eye, the numerous circles - and nearly just as numerous Xs that had been crossed through them - staring back at her like eyes innumerable from some shapeless amalgamate of a monster, each with notes about the relative success or failure associated with the location. The light filtering in through the blinds was not helping matters, the clear blue beyond the slats of the cheap flimsy metal making her eyes sting; focusing her Soul Wavelength into her eyes was enough to render the daylight brilliance beyond the window a mere nuisance, but a nuisance it remained, the obnoxious shine of a summer's day and the stifling heat it brought worsened by the relatively poor conditions of the building she had chosen for her base of operations, discreet, out of the way, and actively avoided by the local populace and only watched by the crazed eyes of the maddened sun...
But beggars couldn't be choosers, and her work demanded a hardy, persistent patience at any rate.
'Hong Kong, May 15, 2017.
'Souls Devoured: 5.
'Developmental progress of Demon Sword within acceptable parameters. However, impact on local populace remains minimal. Madness Wavelength remains localised to Subject.
'Madness Wavelength Experiment Results: Failure.'
'New Orleans, October 21, 2017.
'Souls Devoured: 7.
'Developmental progress of Demon Sword within acceptable parameters. Impact on local populace remains minimal. Attempts to amplify Madness Wavelength unsuccessful; Wavelength remains localised toSsubject.
'Madness Wavelength Experiment Results: Failure.'
'Moscow, March 27, 2018.
'Souls Devoured: 6.
'Developmental progress of Demon Sword within acceptable parameters. Subject's Madness Wavelength finally appears to be affecting environment and Souls it comes into contact with. However, impact on local populace remains minimal.
'Madness Wavelength Experiment Results: Tentative success.'
On and on through the months these logs continued, the more detailed personal reports hidden away in the cabinet that had been concealed into the wall with Magic.
'Cairo, August 19, 2018.
'Souls Devoured: 7.
'Developmental progress of Demon Sword appears to have slowed compared to initial predictions. More Souls may be required for progress to continue. No progress on Subject's Madness Wavelength since the Moscow experiment. Perhaps this is evidence of a point of diminishing returns?
'Madness Wavelength Experiment Results: Failure.'
She hadn't expected the process to be easy by any means. Rather, she had expected setbacks, failures, even. Both of her own accord, and on account of the test subject.
'Quebec City, November 1, 2018.
'Souls Devoured: 10.
'Developmental progress of Demon Sword does indeed require an increased intake of human Souls than was initially projected. Frequency of killings and number of victims will both need to increase for visible progress to resume. No progress on Subject's Madness Wavelength since São Paulo experiment.
'Madness Wavelength Experiment Results: Failure.'
It wasn't as though she didn't have an abundance of humans to experiment with. They were everywhere, these days; almost no point of this realm had been left untouched by them. Curious, inquisitive things, she had to admit - from a scientific, entirely entrepreneurial standpoint, she couldn't help but feel some level of kinship for the species.
'Dubai, February 5, 2019.
'Souls Devoured: 14.
'Beginning increase in frequency of experiments. Subject required coercion. Developmental progress of Demon Sword still slow. Yet to see if increased frequency will increase speed of development. Actual experiments regarding Madness Wavelength will need to be postponed until further notice.
'Madness Wavelength Experiment Results: N/A.'
The individuals within that species, however, were terribly dull, even considering the complacency that was all too commonly found in the 'human' realm these days.
'Chicago, May 3, 2019.
'Souls Devoured: 17.
'Subject required further coercion. Punishments applied accordingly. Developmental progress of Demon Sword appears to have increased in accordance with the Dubai experiment; larger number of victims has increased progress as predicted (minimum 10-15). Frequency of experiments shall be maintained or increased as necessary. Singular sprees are to be maintained as to avoid connection between incidents.
'Madness Wavelength Experiment Results: N/A.'
In the absence of Witchkind, they had all gotten too comfortable.
'Kyoto, July 5, 2019.
'Souls Devoured: 14.
'Subject appears to have settled into the new routine. Developmental progress of the Demon Sword within acceptable parameters. As a side note, Dainslief is becoming difficult to handle; may require punishment if it continues acting up.
'Madness Wavelength Experiment Results: N/A.'
Even the humans that fought among themselves failed to scratch her inquisitive itch, or even briefly entertain her nowadays; there was nothing interesting about a conflict for resources, and even conflicts for monetary gain were incredibly dull. She knew everything she needed to know about the base need for sustenance and the desire for wealth.
'Paris, October 20, 2019.
'Souls Devoured: N/A; 19 killed. Souls confiscated for the purposes of behavioural correction.
'Dainslief attacked me, attempting to use its position within the Subject to puppet it for the purpose of devouring my Soul. Severe punishment was meted out to both. No progress made during this experiment. However, Madness Wavelength was noted during incident; perhaps I should resume experimentation.
'Madness Wavelength Experiment Results: N/A.'
Not that Witches were any better, really. If humans were merely dull, then Witches were pathetic. With the Old Witch losing her touch, she was blind to the infighting taking place within the ranks of the Order - and that wasn't even touching on the Boiling Isles, the Emperor of which seemed to have outright modelled his ideal society off that of humans.
'São Paulo, January 28, 2020.
'Souls Devoured: 18.
Developmental progress of Demon Sword has once again slowed, as within predicted parameters. Will begin increase in experiment frequency to monthly occurrences. However, progress on Madness Wavelength appears to have stalled. Will need to encourage its manifestation somehow.
'Madness Wavelength Experimentation Results: Failure.'
It would be laughable, if it weren't all so pitiful. It was almost enough to make her yearn for the company of her sisters, if only for the sake of an intelligent conversation not plagued with discussion of things that ultimately had no impact on which direction the worlds spun.
'Sydney, February 19, 2020.
'Souls Devoured: 28.
'Developmental progress of Demon Sword has resumed acceptable parameters. Once again, a larger number of victims is required to maintain progress (minimum 25-30). This increase was anticipated. Madness Wavelength manifestation, however, remains minimal, despite Dainslief's increasing influence over the Subject. Need to identify the cause restricting the Wavelength.
'Madness Wavelength Experiment Results: Failure.'
Unfortunately, even if she knew where her sisters were, they were each tied up in their own petty desires, more interested in fleeting power than watching the world as she was. And beyond that, they certainly would not be capable of solving her current conundrum, not without making her life substantially more difficult - undoubtedly in part because of all the knives they'd rather be sticking in her back. Not that she could blame them, really; she'd be doing the same thing if their positions were reversed.
'London, March 13, 2020.
'Souls Devoured: 34.
'Developmental progress of the Demon Sword within acceptable parameters. Dainslief, however, got reckless, and I needed to recall the Subject by force to prevent conflict with police and exposure. Both were punished accordingly. Attention has been drawn to this incident; will need to select next location with care to prevent a connection from forming. Madness Wavelength continues to refuse to manifest.
'Madness Wavelength Experiment Results: Failure.'
The issue lay in the fact that she hadn't made any real progress in months.
'Beijing, April 24, 2020.
'Souls Devoured: 26.
'Developmental progress of the Demon Sword within acceptable parameters. Beginnings of Madness Wavelength seemed to have some effect on the surrounding populace, but only within a small area - mass hysteria noted, but exact results are difficult to determine. Madness Wavelength still woefully behind projections, despite manifestation.
'Madness Wavelength Experiment Results: Failure.'
Despite the growing strength of the Palisman Sword on its steady diet of human Souls, it was failing to project any Madness outwards. The energy seemed to remain firmly directed inwards; the Souls of both the petulant Dainslief and its host were practically swimming in Madness, but they were not performing as she'd hoped in the slightest.
'Birmingham, May 19, 2020.
'Souls Devoured: 37.
'Developmental progress of the Demon Sword within acceptable parameters. However, Madness Wavelength manifestation attempts have been met with abject failure. I am beginning to wonder if this is merely the result of incompatibility between the Subject and Dainslief, or perhaps the Subject with the very nature of these experiments.
'Madness Wavelength Experiment Results: Failure. I am losing both time and patience with these repeated results, even with the enhanced power of the Subject and Palisman. The next experiment will be their final opportunity to prove that one or both can become a Kishin before I move on to different methods.'
Although she was certain that even if a connection was made between each individual incident that no connection could be drawn back to her, she was beginning to question how long that reality could be maintained for - as well as the validity of this particular path. If the true creation of a Demon Sword took this long to achieve, even in an environment specifically designed to nurture and exacerbate Madness within a particular subject, then she didn't know how long she had before such connections could be drawn. She had no choice but to treat it as an inevitability; eventually, someone would notice not only the number of incidents, but also the similarities between them, and from there, draw connections. It was only a matter of time; she needed to come to a conclusion, or find an alternate way forwards, before that happened.
She wouldn't echo the mistakes of her older sister, who'd been too proud to consider the possibility that she might be discovered; moreover, she wasn't about to continue an enterprise that was doomed to failure. Twelve years may be a long time to invest in a project such as this, even for a Witch, but she was not so stubborn as to fall for the sunk cost fallacy. If the current project would not work as she intended, she would simply need to find another method with which to employ the Black Blood. She already had some ideas, and enough resources to begin their implementation… but in the meantime…
Her ear twitched as the door clicked, and then swung open; small feet hesitantly stepped forwards, almost shuffling in their attempt to avoid making noise. Nonetheless, they distracted her from her train of thought, and she closed her eyes with only the slightest of sighs to betray her frustration.
"Crona," she didn't so much as look up, putting a distinctly clinical disappointment into her tone as she spoke, "I thought I told you not to disturb me."
"... I-I'm sorry, Lady Medusa," the child stammered, their voice wavering with every word, "B-But Ragnarok won't leave me alone! He won't let me sleep, and I don't know how to deal with it!"
Slowly, she turned to face the child, arms and legs crossed and golden eyes narrowed; they were slim, perhaps unhealthily so, the thin dress that would have been stretched thin on any other child their age practically swaddling them in folds of black fabric. Beneath their tangled purple bangs, their blue eyes were ringed with shadows, the folds in their pale skin like black ripples in an otherwise pristine pool of liquid marble. Their whole body shook, and they hugged their arms to their chest, seeming to be trying to compress themselves inwards as though they could suck their whole body into nothingness in some personalised black hole.
"I told you she wouldn't listen to you, Crona."
The voice was as deep as it was malicious, bearing a demonic echo as a dark sludge began to emerge from the preteen's back, gradually gaining more definition as it settled into a humanoid form; with its muscles horrendously exaggerated, its whole body bore more bulk than most demons, and Crona's slim frame visibly struggled to hold up its sheer weight for a brief moment before steadying. Its circular eyes somehow twisted in a sneer, the white X that formed over its otherwise entirely smooth skull seeming to facsimile the crest of a brow and the bridge of a nose. It roughly gripped the child's skull, yanking it around with a gleeful cruelty.
"Look at you," it mocked, tugging on the pale teen's cheek and making them wince with obvious pain, "Running back to Medusa! Even after she told you she didn't want to hear it!"
"Stop it, Ragnarok!" Crona cried, weakly batting at the demon's hands, "If I don't get any sleep, my eyes will be all baggy tomorrow and I don't know how to deal with that!"
"You deal with it by sucking it up," the demonic caricature only pulled harder in response to Crona's half-hearted attempts to push it away, "No one likes a whiner, Crona! It's why you don't have any friends!"
While it usually took no control to keep herself from reacting to the back and forth, Medusa could feel her temple beginning to throb as she watched the pair, her usual dispassionate detachment from them both marred by the urge to sigh in frustration; refusing to grant so much as a blink, however, she kept her gaze even, a finger idly stroking the scale pattern of the tattoo of her arm beneath her white lab coat.
"... how many times have I told you, Crona," she began, only allowing the faintest of scoldings to etch her words, "not to indulge Dainslief's delusions of being the Ragnarok?"
At this, the Black Sword Palisman went still, ceasing its bullying of its host; it raised its gaze to glare at the Witch, a low growl rising in whatever passed for its throat.
Finally, she turned her eyes up towards the black iron being, maintaining an appraising, distinctly unimpressed stare. She said nothing, however, not bothering to dignify the implied threat with a response.
Its hackles raised with anger at the silence, but she maintained her gaze, unwilling to treat the interaction as anything more than the verging tantrum of a child. After a long moment, the Palisman's entire frame lost all aggression, its eyes breaking from hers as it settled back behind Crona, keeping a hand firmly on the child's shoulder.
It seemed that it remembered the Paris experiment after all.
"As for you, Dainslief," she started pointedly, "When I told Crona that I was not to be disturbed, that warning by extension applied to you as well."
At this, the would-be Demon Sword flinched slightly; it maintained its silence, not rising to meet Medusa's stare again, seeming to be wishing it had not made its appearance.
"... let me make myself perfectly clear," she lectured, letting her eyes narrow for the first time, "You both have a significant amount of work to do tonight, and as such, both of you need to be rested. I do not have the time or the patience for tonight's experiment to end in failure because one or both of you neglected to get a full eight hours of sleep. Do you understand?"
"... y… yes, Lady Medusa," Crona warbled, barely managing to meet her eyes.
"... Dainslief," she prompted.
The creature flinched again before raising its head to glower at her, defiant; for a long moment, it stared her down before finally letting out an angry mutter, "Yes."
"Good," she turned back to her notes and maps, "Now get back to bed, both of you, and keep the lights off and the blinds shut. I don't want to see you again until tonight."
"... yes… Lady Medusa," the teen murmured, weak and defeated as their shuffling footsteps resumed. Slowly, the door closed behind them, and the creaking of the floorboards grew more and more distant, until they faded into silence entirely.
Satisfied, she reached for another paper, picking it up to examine it, lifting it into the sunlight, forcing her eyes to narrow to make the text readable; it wouldn't be long before she needed to rest as well. Even Witches had their limits, and despite being yet to settle on a solution for her current situation, she needed to be in top condition herself for the coming night's experiment.
Even so, she wanted to be as thorough as possible before letting herself rest.
She leaned forwards on her elbows as she skimmed through the manuscript's contents, raising an eyebrow as she read the title.
Peering Into the Blackened Soul, and the Magics Therein: An Exploration of the Ancient, the Arcane, and the Accursed.
Written by Medusa Gorgon and-...
Ah.
Now this…
This brought back memories.
Even Medusa couldn't quite fight back the twisted smile that crossed her lips at the thought of that devil-may-care grin against a shock of orange hair, eyes of brilliant gold gleaming in the Demonic Realms' half-light daylight. A brilliant Witch in every regard, from her staggering intellect and power to her absolute refusal to be controlled, either by the Emperor, or the Old Witch.
Her old partner in the exploration of dark and ancient Magics.
"Edalyn Clawthorne," she mused, settling back into her chair as she let the wave of nostalgia take her, "How the time flies…"
I FINALLY INTRODUCED MEDUSA! YAAAAAAAY!
Sorry for the delay, everyone! This is something I've been fighting with for a while, but I've been super excited to show you all this chapter! It's late because of family stuff and... well... uh...
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... because...
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... because Elden Ring...
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... I'M A HUGE SOULSBORNE FAN, OKAY!? I'M ONLY HUMAN!
In all seriousness, I hope you enjoyed the bombshells I dropped here, and I'm sorry it took so long for this to come out. I'm going to try to get the next chapter out in the next two weeks; with any luck at all it should be easier this time since I'm done with school for the summer.
Thanks for giving this a read, everyone, and thank you so much for your patience and understanding with me. Let me know what you think! I hope you all enjoyed the twenty first chapter of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!