Luna felt disappointed.

The colors faded, but the stench remained. Everything looked antiquated and quaint, just as what one would expect to see if they jumped to medieval times. And yet that was the problem. This world looked medieval.

'Captivating, ain't it?' Rahal said, patting her back. 'It's as beautiful as a stallion's watery turd, and smells just as good.'

Over to their right, a peasant was being beaten until dead. To their left, a merchant ignored the fight and instead filled animal intestines with chopped meat. Luna couldn't bear to look at her feet, and should could bear even less when she took a step and heard an unholy "squish!"

Solomon said, 'I can't stand this place. What does Kassandra see in it?'

Rahal replied, 'It's that blasted Romanticism.'

None of them could walk more than a few steps before messing their shoes.

'How can things be this unclean?'

'I've been telling you— the world collapsed hundreds of years ago. No one cares about clean streets. It's every man for himself; everyone wants to get their own bitta satisfaction 'n pleasure in what little time they have on this rock.'

Everything looked the part: timberframed houses, post-Romanesque chapels, thatched taverns, candlelight lamps (clearly unused for decades), the works. Luna recalled the Nostalgics, those witches and wizards who longed for the olden days before modern Muggle engineering dominated the world— she saw everything they wanted.

Except if this is what they wanted, they wanted something awful.

So she asked, 'What happened?'

Rahal smacked her lips, and Luna took that to apologize.

'Nihilism. Misanthropic nihilism. It's kinda cute, ain't it?'

The sky blackened. Rain fell.

'Look alive, O' My Dear Moonshine! This is the gods taking a piss on us.'

Dreamily, Luna said, 'It's really awful here...'

'I've been telling you that for hours, innit. The only reason I thought it a good reason to bring you here is because I know you to be a fan of cryptids.'

Solomon shouted, 'Ship.'

Luna scowled and said, 'You shouldn't swear like that.'

Solomon pulled a fag from a box and lit it, inhaling the smoke and breathing out. 'No, you loon. I said "Ship." That ship's setting sail.'

Luna looked off into the distance, only to be greeted by a castle wall. 'What ship?'

Rahal's response was to fill his gut with her fist. 'She doesn't swing that way, you twat.'

Solomon bent over and used his position and rush Rahal. 'The ship is on the seas.'

Rahal locked her elbow around his neck. 'It takes a modicum of ETK to disintegrate one's neck bones.'

Solomon lifted her off her feet and slammed her to the ground. 'Filth shouldn't bemoan overflowing scum!'

Rahal grabbed his ankles and brought him straight onto an antpile. 'With enough force, squeezed bollocks can cause high-impact heart attacks!'

As they dirtied themselves in the dung, Luna pulled out her wand and shouted, 'Petrificus Totalus.'

They stopped moving, struggling to flex a muscle.

'Loons, deary, you've made your point. Now let us go.'

'Not until you promise to stop abusing each other!'

'For the love of Christ.'

'What?'

'Not now, Yoshie. Get us untangled already.'

Solomon whistled and the spell was undone. Luna lifted her wand again, stepping back and threatening to shoot.

'Alright, look, if you're going to keep doing that—' he began. Luna spit and guffawed. Solomon's brow furrowed and he tossed a glance at Rahal before staring back at Luna. 'Wh-what? What did I...?'

Rahal said, 'You're covered in cold ass-mung. All across your body. Pure brown. It's like you're changing race again.' She got herself to her feet and chuckled. 'Cripes. I just got this damn coat. You see why I don't like this place, O' My Dear Moonshine? It's locked in the middle of the Dung Ages.'

The rain passed, and soon the sun emerged from behind the passing storm clouds. The smell got worse. Luna gagged and needed to stoop over a chamberpot at the sight of the now watery and mushed feces that filled the town streets. It was horrid before, but the rain had done a job of washing it all together instead of washing it away.

Above, a dragon roared. It flew over the town, casting its shadow over the street for but a split second.

'There goes Dhovazin— one of the king's personal assassin dragons. I'd recommend staying away from their lot. Nasty bunch.'

'You say that because they think they're superior to elves.'

'No, they're right gits.'

'Because they see themselves as superior.'

'No! Moonshine, you know any dragons?'

Luna looked up, surprised that she was involved in the plot again. 'Oh-sorry, what was that?'

'Dragons, Luna. You know any dragons?'

'No.'

'Shame. I love dragons. I just hate their attitude.'

'She means she hates being called inferior.'

Rahal clocked Solomon on the forehead. Before another round of ultraviolence could commence, Luna raised her wand and threatened to petrify them again.

'Right, you just want to see a cryptid. I'll show you one. I'll even let you bring it back. Just be sure to keep a nice little eye on it, or else you'll lose it.'

They left the castle walls and approached a boot-shaped shack in a wooded valley. Rahal approached the door and knocked four times. Rather than waiting for a response, she let herself in. Solomon followed. Luna hesitated against barging into someone's home, but when Rahal came out and told her that no one was there, she sighed and felt she had missed an adventurous opportunity.

'This is my mate's place, Kassandra McCarthy.'

Luna began to say something, but Solomon cut her off with, 'That isn't a Navian name, before you ask. Eni was talking about her earlier, though.'

'Yeah, she's one from Seventh Earth. One of the Romantics who adored medieval history and whatnot and decided she wanted to live here. Oddly enough. Now she hunts and collects magickal beasts, sorta like Rubeus.'

'You mean Hagrid?'

'Yes, of course. I'm not good with last names. Feels too formal.'

And then Rahal pulled from her coat a strange, bird-like creature that brought Luna closer and transfixed her for god knows how long. It had no beak— instead, there was a speckled duckbill. Its feathers swept forward, and the color and texture was that of an oily rainbow. Those beautiful eyes seemed more fitting for dogs— both of them faced forward, giving the avian a peculiar appearance. Its four legs shuffled as it squirmed, and its tail seemed more fitting of that of a lizard.

'This, O' My Dear Moonshine, is a Dragon-Tailed Tysolbill. It took Sandra several years just to find bones of this thing, and luckily those bones were themselves decades old.' Rahal leaned in, cutting off Luna's attempt to hold the cryptid. 'After it dies, it decomposes to bones for exactly 72 years, and then a new body grows from the bones!'

Solomon exhaled smoke and said, 'Of course, their bones are sweet way to get some napalm wine.'

'Yes, yes...' Rahal pulled the Black Saturday from behind her ear and handed it to Luna, who gawked instead at the Tysolbill. 'Napalm wine. Luna, tell me— has your class yet learned how to create some of that napalm wine?'

Silence.

'Luna!'

'Hmm? Yes?'

'I'm asking you a question. Answer it, and I'll let you hold this beaut.'

'I'm listening.'

'Your Potions class—'

'We haven't been learning much in our classes lately.'

'Ah, yes. I wouldn't know; Dumbledore personally prevented me from taking Potions for whatever reason.'

Luna turned to her and stuttered, 'No, I mean we have been taught very rudimentary things ever since the Frog Lady came.'

Rahal kicked a pile of mush and used telekinesis to shape it into a bust of Dolores Umbridge. Solomon glanced at it, and it caught fire.

'In that case, we're gonna teach you how to make napalm wine,' Solomon said. 'Find any Black Saturday you come across, douse it in the wine, and light it on fire, and whole bunches of amazing things will happen.'

Luna shook her head. 'Black Saturdays are evil flowers, and napalm wine is very much a taboo potion!' However, she quickly stopped shaking her head, as the motion made the odors seem all that much more poignant.

Rahal locked the door behind her and bid her friend's house farewell. 'That's a shame then. Especially considering you're a menfolk. I thought profanity was supposed to be your shtick.'

'Uggh. Eni, I've got to— oh man, this blows.' The dung he had rolled in with Rahal earlier dripped off his jacket and fingers. 'I've gotta burn these clothes. This is putrid.'

'That is rank, my God.'

Luna squeezed her nose and said, 'How could people even live here?'

Aboutfacing in place, Rahal replied, 'Don't change the subject now, mate. Just to help you get over your fears, I'm going to show you exactly what happens when you mix Black Saturdays with napalm wine.'

Luna meekly said, 'Can we please go back to looking for magical creatures?'

'Later! We'll do that later.' Rahal grabbed her arm and dragged her along the forest road. 'We're going to meet my parents, just to troll their faces. And then we're headin' to Seventh Earth. If everything's gone well, then Harry Potter and his mates should be there with Poxhart and Mozzy.'