Chapter 8:

Into the Blazing Furnace

The world that this story takes place in is much more expansive than just the places shown in the source material. Adjacent to the titular isolationist nation of the Boiling Isles is various other land masses where the last Anti-magic peoples live now alongside another diverse race of witches that use a restrictive and tasking magic style. As Viney described once, there were also places where magic did not exist at all. The time before all the characters in this charade were born, the world had seen its great peace, an armistice that spanned the whole, a Pax Romana. Trade with those countries had been prosperous, every country fine with sparing expenses until the early campaign by Belos, which bred distaste toward those monstrous beings, far away and the beasts living inside the country.

See, that was his effect on the country. The country embraced thousands of years and left only a sense of the whole. Like a vile trichina, like a germ of the plague infecting whole countries, so he contaminated earth, so happy and sinless before his coming. They learned to lie, grew fond of lying, and discovered the charm of falsehood. Oh, at first perhaps it began innocently, with play, coquetry, with amorous play, perhaps indeed with a bacterium, but that bacterium of falsity made its way into their hearts and pleased them. Then sensuality was soon born, sensuality produced jealousy, jealousy-cruelty, and soon, the first blood was shed. They marveled and were horrified, and began to split up and divide. They formed into unions, but it was against one another. Reproaches and upbraidings followed.

Kurt was bound by his ankles and his wrists, a cloth was wrapped around his mouth and finally placed into a burlap sack, where he could only hear the sounds of the person carrying him. A few moments passed before he was taken out, revealing the darkness of a carriage and the light of the outside that he wouldn't see until a few weeks later when he would be inevitably rescued much too late.

There were others there, but he was the only one that didn't have a blindfold on. His powers weren't working. No one was searching for him. Not Luz, not Etheridge, not Eda, not C.C., not Camila. He was all alone, now and without anything to save him from this hell, all he could do is wait for the carriage to stop, and hope that he was being sent to work or a grave.

You'll be a good toy.

He knew the chances were low.

As the carriage bounced and bumped into the unpaved roads and the little cracking rocks below, Kurt spent his time thinking about what brought him here, no, he thought about who brought him here. Etheridge. That damn usurper! He set him up to fail. That child had something to do with his powers not working right now and chances were that he had set him up to be kidnapped here. A fit of white-hot anger unsettled his stomach, his jaw clenched and gnashed at the bandana covering his mouth, his hands turned pale as he gripped so hard that his fingernails became covered in dried blood, his body wriggled like a fish taken out of the sea, bouncing and slapping against the ground, demanding more oxygen. Kurt found himself heaving for every breath, now. No, he didn't want to be used again. God, he did not want to be someone's good time - someone's kip. Not again, not again. His head slammed against the floor repeatedly as he cried out in anguish-

"What the hell's goin' on back there?"

The woman in flames appeared again, in the corner of the carriage, lighting up the room around them. She smiled as the cover over the carriage revealed the night sky and the stars. This time he was watching from beside her, floating above the ground again. At first, he thought that his powers had returned but he realized that he was probably in shock or dying as of now. His dying body was rushed by his captors who panicked and tried to revive him by cutting a hole in a vein under his chin and bloodletting him. The ground was wet with dew from the condensed fog from the frigid lake, bordering the grassy lakeside, the blades floated on his spine as they gently tickled his fading sense of touch. A dim shock began to develop in his head, like guns shooting repeatedly through his brain sending convulses through his body. As his consciousness went in and out, the men surrounding him tried to grasp the situation, maybe salvage the seized boy, Kurt glimpsed the lake, covered in green and white water lilies and lily pads.

Water lilies, in another world.

Water lilies protect the sea animals that live in the water. Dog days like these, the leaves of the lily pad stretch out, providing shade and keeping the underwater cooler. The shade of lily pads keeps blossoming algae away, the green plants thriving on oxygen and light, causing many fish to die due to a lack of oxygen once they overtake a pond. Plants like lily pads have a track record of growing quickly and getting out of control, causing overcrowding, stagnation, lack of oxygen, and dangerous conditions for fish and other wildlife in freshwater.

They compete with other plant life and overtake them, taking a stranglehold on other water plants that are healthy for the life of the pond. There can be danger faced under the cover of darkness because instead of breathing carbon dioxide and emitting oxygen as they do in the day, water lilies tend to breathe in oxygen and emit carbon dioxide. Since they multiply quickly they can be a serious issue to other creatures residing in the freshwater ponds.

These beautiful plants in this dreadful world, as Kurt dipped into the abyss of his sanity, he saw the water lilies. Beautiful and terrible, he was picked up and taken again, into the darkness of the vehicle taking them to their doom. Revived, he thought about the nympheas, that the dog days were reaching their end, and July would come to a close as they died.

Eda had done a magic spell that forced them to switch bodies, which was not fun for any of them, despite her many arguments that said it would be. It even worked on Kurt, even though his abilities would normally reject it. They had been doing things that he didn't want quite often actually. And he hardly knew how to stop or start it working, after the body-switching incident he asked the man how to get it to work again.

"Something's been bothering you?" C.C. asked, leaning against a time-frozen person. "Powers like ours stop working in states of emotional distress. It's part of how our people were killed. Etheridge was witness to the deaths of countless of his countrymen, friends, and even family. The only reason he survived was that his other consciousness took over for him."

"[What should I do in that situation]?"

"Pray you aren't in that situation, but if it occurs, you'll have to find a way to distance yourself from the situation. Dissociate."

"What does that mean?"

"You'll find out someday, just... not today."

Kurt thought of earlier when he had been stuck in King's body.

The body switch went like this. Kurt switched with King, King with Luz, Luz with Eda, and Eda as him. Eda said becoming him was like a million knives into every part of her body. Worse yet, she found herself drifting in a sea of darkness that she could not move through, like a pool of Alaskan ice she slammed her fist against the sheet but could not break through. Lurking above it, a creature with white eyes cast its eyes at her before transforming into a giant flame melting away the white ice.

Kurt had a similar experience. The same beast looming over him, but instead, it reached its hand down and lifted him above. It was more humanoid, but gentle, kind, nothing like what Eda described. He also managed to see her across the way, though that came after a full day's worth of hijinks and idiocy.

"So you've seen that much, then?" C.C. placed his hand on his chin, "Hm. When you were a child, did you ever have a place that you were attached to? A-a happy place?"

"[...Why?]" There was only one place he could think of.

"That place...when you are in distress again, search for it." He stood up, clasping his fingers together and stretching his triceps, "Anti-magic is latent in witches like us, but it awakens from trauma, exceptionally painful experiences such as being hurt or abused. The only way we escape is through fake worlds, like this one."

"[What do you mean?]"

"This world that we're standing in, it could just be the creation of another person, scared, tired, broken, just as we are."

"A-are you broken?"

C.C. turned his head for a moment, "Yes, I am."

"A-Am I broken?"

"Yes," he answered, "Etheridge looked through your head once or twice, which is no doubt how he managed to bring you here without resorting to violence. But I don't need to stumble through your brain when I can see it so plainly on your face, your body language, even. You've been through a lot, believe me, I know. But you're still here. Still relatively sane. There's a reason behind that. That reason is this personal home in your mind is a safe space for you to have even if you were scared. Our brains create these places to keep us alive. A coping mechanism."

Life became fantasy after that. Lilith fell deeper into the Emperor's Coven and its routine, idiosyncrasies, and culture, while Eda watched from a distance, afraid that the moral woman who defended her from afar and up close would affiliate with such an evil group of witches.

Somehow, she found advice from one of Luz's little friends, the scarred and swarthy Etheridge the one who was so savvy and ironic, finding ways to both compliment and insult her in a single breath: "Growing apart is natural. You'll always be her sister, and her yours, but you have to let her find her way. Even if it is shitty. And take some time to think about your cause. It never hurts to take a step back and look at the big picture."

She was surprised by his wisdom, almost sounding like her father, "What did I do to get your advice and not your sarcastic remarks?"

"I said it before, I respect you. Unlike that fat-headed employee of yours."

"There it is."

"Don't act like you missed it."

"I won't, kid."

[Etheridge interrupts: I refrained from telling her the obvious reply.]

Emira fell deeper and deeper into her crush on Kurt, reaching the phase where she stopped denying, minimalizing, or even catastrophizing it. She accepted it finally, the butterflies in her stomach, the warmness in her body, but she could not accept the social repercussions of people - her family knowing it, though there was nothing she felt ashamed of. She awaited the day when her mother or father would rap at her bedroom door and demand that they stop seeing each other, friends or not. Kurt was first her sole confidant before all this, a crush, a reason she stayed up at night.

She recalled the times they were alone, Edric chatting it up with Zadie and Florence and Kurt by himself as he always seemed to be, even in the company of his overexcitable sibling and patient friends. They all were willing to listen to anything he had to say, yet he always said nothing, staring at the world and its people, as lonely as can be. His eyes would still, pupils wiggling every few seconds as if he were thinking of something, and he would sit, statuesque. Kurt covered his body with garb both familiar and unfamiliar, a short overcoat with a hood, some form of dark tunic or shirt, black pants, and boots. While he abandoned most of the clothes he wore when first getting here, he kept the olive overcoat.

One day, they agreed to go to a nearby lake for what was something of a beach day since there was a nice wind coming in that week. Of course, they brought beach clothes. Kurt found himself without anything to wear - all part of Edric's plan to expose Emira for her little crush, she despised him for it and she despised herself for agreeing. Oh, the shit-eating grin he had on his dumb face when she committed!

Kurt refused to go though, for a reason he would not divulge to them. When she inquired, the answer became ambiguous as he responded with an expression of something she only recognized from her siblings and her mother - shame. "There's no need to be sheepish, Kurt."

But he was. And that sheepishness arose from something only he saw when he looked in the mirror, something he was deathly afraid of. She noticed it when she touched him, grazed him - nothing intimate existed within her hands then, it was the platonic touch of a friend, and no more - he was tentative, shy like a baby exploring the world around them. His words held the same infantile quality about them, when she flirted, teased, or even alluded to something of more mature connotation, he had no conceivable sense of how to react and froze up. This collection of attitudes and observations was a mystery, one that she wanted - no, needed to solve! Why would someone like this be so afraid of themselves?

Amity, too, unraveled the mystery of the other Noceda. After the incident in the library, she began to think about the human girl more than she had expected to. Almost more than she thought about her lost friend, who happened to be Luz's friend too. The way they met had been unfortunate, as Luz and Amity's first exchange was, but friendship arose all the same. Somewhat like her first interaction with Kurt, who, after the Covention incident and the Library debacle, developed amicable terms with her. Plus, Emira happened to have a crush on the exotic human from another realm. How very much like her. When asked what she knew about either of the siblings, Kurt and Luz, there was hardly anything to tell, according to her and Edric, Kurt's personality unclear as Luz's was. Emira dropped more details than her counterpart, expressing that he enjoyed music, was a fan of books, and compared to his sister, more reserved. But she knew nothing of the reasons behind their closeness or their unique traits. Amity seemed to be in the loop of the inner circle of the Nocedas, yet she didn't know all that much about either of them. The enigma of her character interested her, but there existed something dormant - something smilingly ignoble about her, a worldliness and delitescent insouciance that made her personality feel glimmeringly vast.

The following week, Luz and the Owl Crew as named by Amity, joined her, Zadie, and the terrible twins on their trip up the Knee.

Zadie Bloom had been with the Blight family for three years now, having been working with the Emperor as his aide for a few years before the Golden Guard, Hunter, took her place, then she was a gift to the family. She was given to them by Emperor Belos to protect them from what would happen on the Day of Unity, as Odalia had negotiated for her allegiance and adherence to the Coven system, her family would be safe by the end of it all. In the meantime, he could be used as anything they demanded. A tool. A toy. A makeshift sitter. She could have even been a weapon used to wreak havoc on those who tried to create duplicates of Blight Industries' products and inventions, but Adalor did not like the feeling of Machiavellianism it came with. Odalia had her become a maid. Above all, her job was to keep a low profile and to make sure to keep tabs on the Blight household, to make sure they did as Phillip demanded, and tell him of any oddities or signs of uncertainty or insincerity.

Zadie grew up under the tutelage of Phillip, learning everything about the world from him. She thought of that night in the village she was born in, one of the last Anti-magic villages to be burned down during the purge. When the ground was ripped from under her, he put himself on the line to save her from certain death. There was no chance that she would betray him.

"Lily!" She gasped, she didn't know that Lilith Clawthorne would be coming for the report. "I-I mean, good afternoon, Coven Leader Lilith."

The tall woman glanced down at Zadie, "There's no reason to be formal, when we know each other so well, Zadie." Whenever the Emperor couldn't do something, it was usually Lilith or Kikimora who took her place, and Kiki was much less poised and amicable than Lilith, "How have things been here? Are they treating you well?"

Zadie could only think of Adalor at that moment, he was quiet, patient, and nice to her, unlike his wife. When she was told she going to join them, she expected a condescending, self-important lecher, but he was a normal person willing to make mistakes around her and admit it. He refused to touch her. Their relationship was formal and professional. "They have treated me well," she said.

As the words came out of her mouth, they became insincere. She thought of the woman who landed her here, the anger in her eyes when she struck her, the pompous attitude when she gave orders and demanded things of her, Odalia was a monster. Lilith knew this as well, that Zadie was lying because she was loyal and dedicated to the Emperor's cause. She knew that because whenever she lied to Lilith, her smile was wide and bright, so sincere, and Zadie would only ever smile like that for the man who raised her and the one who knew her best.

"That's good," Lilith played along, but she would not let her off easy, "They should or they would have hell to pay. From the Emperor and from me."

"Yes, I know that," Zadie responded, "Their kids have been very kind to me. They like to take me on their 'adventures.'"

"Speaking of which, I have heard that you made a few friends. One of them the Amti-magic human hybrid from the human realm," Lilith looked her in the eye, knowing that she might lie again for him. "Kurt Noceda, I think his name was. Is this true?"

"Yes, he is a wonderful man. He underestimates himself constantly but has reckless tendencies and fearlessness built into him. He challenged Odalia at one point, too," Zadie responded, pushing up her glasses. She grasped a strand of her curly hair, "He is handsome, too."

"I wouldn't say that," Lilith uttered, "Besides, you are too old for him."

She was twenty-two and Kurt was, by the twins' account, around the same age as her.

Lilith sighed, "He is seventeen."

Then again, she never really told them her age.

She gasped in shock, "I thought he was my age."

Lilith found a seat on a nearby sofa, resting one leg over another, "It is likely the way he carries himself. When it comes to body language, gait throws most people off. He bears a weight that makes him appear both adult and childlike, just like you."

"What do you mean?"

"Your posture is loose and weighty, you are springy in your steps and sometimes clumsy. That's because you're lost in your thoughts when you move. You're also naïve and indecisive. With Kurt, he stamps his feet a little and walks fast. Meaning he's childish and conscientious, but people could perceive that as a business mentality. Very formal and elegant."

"How can you tell so much from a walk?"

"Being with the Emperor's Coven forces you to pick up on a few things. Things that you don't want to look for in your normal life, so I won't tell you any more about it," she responded.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Your friend, Florence," she responded, leaning forward, "I believe that she and her family might be harboring an enemy of the Emperor's Coven."

Zadie froze, her hands stopped moving and her eyes focused all of a sudden, "Really?" She asked.

"Yes, really," Lilith confirmed, "He has been on the run for quite some time now."

"Okay..." she drawled, "What do you want me to do about it?"

"The Emperor believed that you would be able to convince Florence to get them in an isolated area for capture," she explained, "Florence has been around here very often, hasn't she?"

"She has." Zadie placed a hand on her head.

"It isn't your fault. It isn't her fault. We think that he might have tricked them into thinking that he was a normal civilian."

"Hm."

"You can take your time on it, Z. I understand how you feel right now but you should know that turning down this job asks for might be bad. I'll follow up in a week or so."

"Okay," she uttered.

"Oh, one last thing before I leave," Lilith stood, walking toward the door to Odalia's office. "You've been keeping watch of the Harbinger, haven't you?"

"He hasn't awakened yet but I think that he will very soon, seeing as he is being tended to properly."

"The Gardener has never let a weed bloom in his foliage, so let's hope that he doesn't start now." Lilith chuckled, "The Emperor believes the Harbinger to be an asset that will help close the day of Unity."

"Hopefully."

Snow spilled from the high mountain trees down to the low plateaus they stood on, yet somehow every rock and stone Florence stepped on felt flimsy and weak like the ground would fall out beneath her. Her feet still made that crunchy, slushy sound as she stepped onto the ground as an indication that she was truthfully on solid ground. Breath did not come as easily as it typically did, she was heaving for the smallest amount of oxygen, and blood pumped through her much slower than normal. Her muscles tightened like they had thin ropes wrapped around them and above all, she was fucking freezing. Etheridge made her a fur-inlaid coat, to go with her gloves, and her special boots but it did little against the wind that had picked up once they got there.

"Where's everybody else?" crunch crunch her footsteps rang out as she clutched her arms for some reprieve from the wind chill.

Etheridge turned her way.

"They're at the old Witches Arena, it should only be a little longer," Etheridge explained, letting out a breath to see the condensation from his nose fly upward in million wisps of misty white angels. "You ever wonder why that fog comes up when we breathe in cold air?"

"No, I don't like the cold, remember?" Florence replied, "Who cares?"

Etheridge didn't say anything, choosing to keep walking - crunch swish crunch - and let her vent if she had to.

"Oh, hey, I'm sorry- I didn't-"

"You're good. I don't like the cold neither."

"E, I didn't mean to get sarcastic on you, honest."

"You're overreacting, I'm fine, seriously," Etheridge replied softly this time. "I've been feeling a lot better since then, y'know? I thought you wanted to vent."

Florence stopped, and Etheridge stopped with her. There was a few moments of silence between them, "Etheridge, I can tell something's been bothering you. Ever since you went to that moonlight conjuring, you've been... sad."

Etheridge stared at her for a few moments, before beaming his white teeth in a grin that denied the sadness between them, the white wisps escaped his nose, like guardian angels looking down on them and dissipating, gone. "I'm fine. Let's keep going. We'll be there in a few more yards."

The location they were headed to was up a white hill and down into the sloping valley, within the center of it all, the entire group. The two walked in silence. Kurt, Luz, and Eda were trying to get Luz to learn some new magic spell, so she could enter Hexside as Eda had somehow convinced Principal Bump into allowing her in on that single condition. It certainly was quite the uphill battle, given that Luz had no innate ability, like most witches, and thus far had no way of understanding how to make anything other than light.

Etheridge, powerless as he appeared, might have had some info on that front, according to Luz. His extensive knowledge of anti-magic and history purported a small understanding that she might be able to use.

The Blight family and Bloom were there too, sitting along the edges of the ruins, Edric and Emira watched the youngest go at it, while Zadie strolled up to greet them. She wore a long dress that stopped at her ankles, a warm wool cape and scarf, and a cossack hat. Covering her feet were boots, made of the same material. She walked up close but backed up once she saw Florence's confusion and aversion. "Sorry," she muttered. "It's nice to finally see you, Etheridge."

"Uh, nice to meet you too."

"Your sister says a lot about you."

Etheridge glanced at Florence, at his sister, then scratching the back of his head, "I bet she does."

"Oh, hush." Florence pulled his hood over his head.

Etheridge looked at Florence for a moment and glanced down lifting his pants a little and clearing his throat, "So, who required my knowledge?"

From what Zadie could gather, he was unable to give her much insight into the essential parts of magic, despite that, Luz - or so she recalled her name being - found him captivating. There was not one word that she didn't listen intently to. He always demanded the whole of attention, never part of it.

Etheridge spoke of the history of magic - all the roots and its great users before Belos wiped the history away with the swipe of his hand. Sometimes it was hard to remember that he was a suspected terrorist - wanted for such a high price that lone witches could not even consider attempting to capture him. In the moments where she forgot this, she gazed at him, their kindred, dark faces, their familiar rounded ears, deep eyes, from the tips of their toes and the end of their hair, they were the same. Yet, their hearts were completely different... it was a wonder what shaped them as if they were blocks of clay, what inevitably turned them into opposites.

The group soon found themselves quiet, lulled into silence by their concentration on their training. Kurt and his sister were far off, possibly learning some obscure magic for humans, and Florence and Etheridge joined them. Eda, King, her, and the twins were gathered in the center of the arena, all trying to assist Amity in her process of honing her latent abilities. The twins abandoned their post to search for adventure, while Eda kept giving little tips instructing her on the correct form. Eda had the eyes of a teacher, something almost Montessorian - maternal. She wondered if that focus, the scrutiny she regarded them with if all Clawthornes held that caring individual within them.

Eventually, the twins returned with a creature rapidly approaching them. Emira and Edric escaped narrowly since it was a slow-moving beast. Eda was the first to react, as expected, but Zadie reached out a hand to stop her from proceeding. The two were lazy, but they knew how to handle themselves. Their teamwork was unparalleled in the entirety of Hexside. So when the creature came past them, they managed to get it to fall at their feet, capturing it in a hold. Zadie took three steps forward, raising a hand in front of the trapped monster's eyes, muttering as she forced its attention toward her. "Sleep," she said finally, and it fell asleep once again.

Skies changed colors as the group returned to their respective homes, but the last few to head back were Luz, Amity, and Eda in their group, and Kurt, Zadie, Florence, and Etheridge in another. Kurt and Zadie discussed the day that passed and what they had learned. Eventually, Kurt headed home with the other group, catching up to them. Leaving Zadie, Florence, and Etheridge to themselves. By now, Florence had caught wind of Zadie's nervous glances toward the two of them, wary of whatever she might say next, she stood right next to her. There was something on her mind, but she didn't know what.

"Florence, I'm glad you came along," she uttered, "There was something I wanted to talk to you about."

The snow shuffling beside Zadie slowed, as she looked at her questioningly. "What is it? You can ask me anything."

"You're from an outlying country, right?" she asked.

Florence gasped, "How did you know?" now she was on edge, having stopped entirely and Etheridge tightening just as much as her. She hadn't told anyone other than her parents, and Etheridge had lived with her there before they were adopted.

"We've known each other a long time, you come every week to the Blight manor," she listed off, "I'm sure the twins might have parsed this, the smart one probably didn't want to say anything about it, and Edric is likely still guessing. I'm sure Etheridge knew already."

Etheridge hummed, "Yeah."

Florence was still in partial shock. "Why, wh-what do you want?"

"I don't want anything, I just want to know if it's true or not. I want to know," Zadie beseeched, pausing for a moment, "I... never told their mother, but I'm also from a remote country. Somewhere further than the anti-magic colony. I lived there for most of my life, but when my parents died, I came here thanks to them. I just wanted to know if there was another one of us out there," She lied, laughing it off and scratching the back of her neck, "sorry if I caught you off guard."

"Oh, no, it's fine. I'm sorry," she ameliorated, her posh and assimilated North Midland American accent that had grown over the past few years, switching back to the one Etheridge recalled before they were adopted, resembling an East Asian accent. "I thought..."

"I understand. I'm glad to know that there's someone like me around here," Zadie grasped her hands, "There are so many things I have to tell you both!"

"Nope, not me," the boy responded, "I'm from the anti-magic continent."

"Even so! The people here hardly know about us!"

Florence objected, "It's not just us, it's V, too."

"Viney? Where is she from?"

"She's from further up north!"

"Oh," Etheridge would be lying if he didn't notice some disappointment in her tone, "Last I heard of them, they were still at war with each other."

"Yes, but Viney and her family escaped a long time ago," she continued with a smile, "She'd be ecstatic to know that you're from one of the nations! Oh, that's not to stop you from telling her yourself though, I know that it's private. Your secret is safe with me."

"Thank you," Zadie offered kindly. She glanced down at Etheridge who held an unreadable expression as he looked back up at her.

They continued talking to each other, but Etheridge listened to them in relative silence. Florence noticed this as they walked down the path after the short conversation crunch swish crunch his upraised dark brows, cold frown, and flinty stare, crestfallen as if death descended hairs near him, and he was unable to turn away. She walked beside him, trying to cheer him up with the talk of someone from a sister country, and while he accommodated her, his heart walked a long range away from the green passage she walked. It wasn't the first time she noticed the difference between two individuals, the cold, desolate, deeply angered, and scarred person, and her brother, the lovable poet. And maybe years ago, when he was far from being a part of the adult world, she might have believed that they were going the same way, great witches in their own right despite being from the most terrible of situations, Etheridge would be an independent historian writing whatever he wanted, Florence, travel the world, find more people like her, uplift them. The world ahead of her always seemed brighter when her family was involved and she never imagined that the happy child that came from war might change into someone so grim.

"You ready to go home?" Florence asked him.

Etheridge swiped at his face, a tear, a bead of sweat, she didn't know, but for the first time since she'd known him, Etheridge was fazed. "Yeah."

Luz managed to pass the entrance exam using the spell she had found at the Knee and was met with applause from her brother, Eda, Etheridge, and Florence. Zadie responded later that if the day had been free then she would have been there too, praising her after the fact. The others had class, but she appreciated the encouragement they gave.

She walked down from the stage and grabbed her brother in a massive hug, one that hadn't been given since Kurt almost died at the hands of Adegast. By now, the bad blood between them appeared to have passed without animosity or anger. Thinking partially of their years early before the fire and his years of recovery, she felt warm standing next to him after, compared to the cold emanating between them for those days.

Partially, all the calloused relationships that had grown slowly melted away as she grew to have some agency within the Isles. The Blight twins' friend Viney helped her fight back against a gigantic basilisk demon, survive the detention track, and start a multitrack revolution in Hexside. Amity started warming up to her a little, quite a lot more than expected. Often whenever she wasn't paying attention, at lunch or in a class they would happen to have together, Luz caught Amity studying their group. Particularly Luz and Willow. She figured it was because there lay tension between Amity and Willow, and with them getting to know each other better, both might have felt an obligation to try again. Well, Amity did at least. Willow had no desire for her words to try and sway her. Luz figured that could be saved for a time when that felt like the most pressing thing in her mind, rather, that title went to someone she interacted with only every few times, yet made a lasting impression on her.

Etheridge carried himself with his heart on his sleeve, in her eyes, growing from a snarky quipmaster to someone insightful and deep-minded. A spark had come up when he tried to explain the history of Boiling Isles magic pedagogy, he spoke like he was in his element, and had a response to all of her jokes and observations while keeping her (admittedly short) attention. Somehow he'd piqued her interest, but she had no idea how to approach someone like him, or what she'd say. Yet, every time he approached her, Etheridge carried the conversation by sating her curious nature, answering every question that came up. He also had a knack for evading the more personal questions, about his adoption, his original parents, and his deep knowledge of human history and mythos. Despite his inability to be vulnerable around her, he proved himself to have some unusual aura that kept her intrigued. The fact that he would disappear at a moment's notice may have also contributed to his allure, partially reminding her of the edgy characters with out-of-whack and grey moral compasses, like Sasuke or Hiei, someone who challenged her to think about ideals and opinions, with a permanent frown.

This chain of like and dislike had pervaded the three more once Kurt had gotten involved, thanks to Etheridge raving about it during one of their training sessions. Starting a conversation after three hours of silence, where Kurt tried to learn anti-magic runes, which were more complex and harder to understand than learning to read three separate languages all at once. The young anti-magic witch, Kurt often forgot his age, spoke loud enough to break his concentration.

"So, your sister," he spoke awkwardly, "The one with the boyish haircut..."

"Oh, s-so we're talking about her now?" After a long while of only using his voice with his sister, the wrapped band around his larynx had dissipated with time, now he spoke freely. "Is my study done?"

"No, you can work while we talk," he responded, "does she have, like, a thing for me? Cause every time I'm here at Hexside coincidentally she's all over me."

"No way," Kurt waved off quickly.

"Ah, so you are a man underneath that feminine hide," Etheridge chuckled, leaning back in the seat. "Just checking."

"Yeah, sure. Even if she did, I don't think you'd be smart enough to know."

"I can read minds, you shithead. If I really wanted to know, then I'd just ask and read to find out," Etheridge responded, "Besides, I don't actually like her. I just wanna know."

"How would you feel if I asked this about y-"

"Don't. Go there." He snapped, "I've begun to like you, but I'm not so nice that I won't fuck your shit up when you talk about my sister."

"But you can talk about mine?"

"Hell yeah. You're not powerful enough to stop me from saying your sister looks and acts like a fucking jackrabbit. Power has privileges." Etheridge calmed down, breathing and pacing in a soldierly manner, placing a hand on his head, clasping them together, then pointing at Kurt with both indexes, "Listen, I'm serious. I want to know."

Kurt knew he wasn't the one to respond to this inquiry, since he was biased and definitely wouldn't respond with a yes. He shuffled a little in his seat, "She does that with most of her fr-friends, though probably more with you since she has more of your classes."

"Hm," Etheridge responded, "You won't admit your sister might like me?"

"No. Never."

"Why not?"

He was reminded of the rift that grew from his lack of trust in his younger sister, that it occurred because of Etheridge planting seeds in his mind. And as Kurt's awareness of anti-magic became stronger, the more he realized how far-reaching these roots grew in his head, the slithering fractures were his whispers. How could he trust someone who could peer into his brain so quickly? "You've done things to my head."

"Yes. I have." He replied standing to his feet and stretching his knuckles. "It kept you alive. I get it though. I won't do it anymore, I promise."

Somehow, Kurt didn't believe him.

Amity spent some time looking for him as he heard whispers from Eda and Luz that she wanted to talk to him and once she did, she asked the same question. In some far-off previous chapter, he recalled her as more of a kid that built up walls around herself, definitely unwilling to open up to anyone about anything, but now, there was a respect for Luz in her eyes, hinting at something more, but he didn't want to give her any hope for something might not come. He tried to trawl about his fathomless amount of vague recollections for a resemblance of a memory that might nullify the potentially confusing imaginary monster of squashing romance.

It was an odd feeling that required temperance, some morbid part of him wished to shout all his thoughts to the world. Fighting against the nervous reaction was his first task, trudging through his childish instinct to be blunt was his second, and adapting some patience with others, through all he learned succor existed in speech, talking jovially with friends, confiding in another person about something, all these powers that his language held, yet it had been taken from him by Amaranta. Never before had he been able to tell others what he thought of them, and support them when they required a helpful, friendly presence. He could be that person now! Kurt almost felt like he could cry.

Amity found him at the edge of the cliff that the Owl House overlooked, the same one he almost fell off at beginning of this fervid, boiling month. A nice breeze had settled in, since the torrid skies brought stronger, cutting winds in the cliffs. The teen standing nonplussed at the precipice displayed a different person than the one who beat the anger out of her. She hesitated to meet him, especially when she heard that he has trouble speaking altogether. Of course, lately, that hadn't been much of a problem for him, he was able to talk freely without that lock on his larynx.

"Uh, hello." She started awkwardly, "you're the human's- er, Luz's brother, right?"

"Kurt. Yeah."

That was the first time Amity heard Kurt speak.

She expected to require using the spell her siblings used, but if this was how it would be, then this would be a cinch.

By Saturday, a week and a half before the end of July, Etheridge and the Owl Crew decided to join Luz's friends for a walk through a nearby carnival, something that Kurt knew he would refuse. But today was different for the boy, perturbed by something that Kurt could not place. And the fact that Kurt's powers were acting up once again made this uneasy sensation greatly worse, though he tried to enjoy the festivities with his sister and the twins, who happened to join them.

"Hey, where's Florence? I know she would appreciate this." Emira asked.

Etheridge didn't say anything. His signature grin faltered for a moment. She figured that they had an argument or something.

Most of the afternoon went swimmingly, playing various recognizable games such as mogura taiji, watching magic shows, and even meeting one of Eda's unrequited rivals, Tibbles. He managed to shrink Luz, Willow, and Gus down to the size of ants, but they were freed by King and reverted by Eda and Edric, once they escaped, Etheridge and Kurt confronted him.

"You need any backup?" Emira asked.

Kurt looked her in the eyes, "No, as much as I'd love to have you here a little longer, I think you should head back with your brother and sister."

"You like having me around?" Emira inquired, her face a tinge of red.

Kurt pushed aside the embarrassment and his previous comment and nervousness at the next, "Y-Yeah, I do."

Emira's posture became modest, her body twisting in confirmation of the warm feeling that expanded at his response. "I like being with you, too." She said, feeling somewhat shy about what to do next. Only one thing came after these kinds of interactions in the books she read and stories she heard. It was something she had done only so much, compared to others, and she could only assume due to how he carried himself that Kurt was the same. This would be fine. Yeah. This would be fine.

She walked closer, into the danger zone and leaned forward, giving him a peck on the mouth. It lasted no more than half a second and left him wanting for more, so much more. For a moment, the fire entered his mind, but he pushed it away. Over the past month, moments like these had come and by like nothing had before. These magical moments were only marred by that thought, the face of that woman, her heat. The fire. He chose to instead act against the reserved nature that had built from then, grabbing her by the cheeks and engaging in a kiss. She had an amateur kiss, teeth clinking together, she didn't know where to put her hands, or how to react after it all, but to go for it again.

"They... foiled my plans! You will pay for this! This time I'm gonna personally squash you!" Tibbles shouted.

Etheridge snatched the potion from him, chuckling, "Yeah, right. Get outta here! You shouldn't even be doing shit like this as a side hustle, it's just cruel."

"What do you know? You-" Tibbles responded, preparing another tirade.

"Hm?" Etheridge glared at him, "What? You could fuck off now, or fuck off after we beat the ever-loving mess out of you. Your choice."

Tibbles went silent for a moment, then scrambled away.

"Nice," Kurt said to Etheridge, patting him on the back. Etheridge shrugged off his hand, glowering at him, the grin that was often bolted to his face, disappeared. "What?"

"I hate you, but what you did... that was low. I'd never have expected it from you," Etheridge growled through grit teeth, "My family's in a scramble right now, thanks to you. I'm not going to ask for anything from you, I'm just gonna let karma deal with you, Kurt."

"What are you talking about?"

"Play dumb if you want, but when I called my sister and she wouldn't say anything, that told me all I needed to know."

"I..."

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"I knew something was wrong but I... what are you even blaming me for now? None of this ever made any damn sense to me! I've tried so hard to be kind. I thought you and I could be friends and now this. You have an issue with me and even now that I'm able to speak clearly, you won't communicate it with me," Kurt rambled, "So now, you know what? Screw you. I'll learn everything I need to from C.C. and you can just go back to your asshole routine. I don't need this, and I don't need you."

Once all the games were over, they all began to head home. Everyone returned to their respective houses and homes. Luz closed Hooty's door, King headed to little nest and she followed behind him. Yawning, the voice of Eda resonated close to her, the tone exuded worriment and apprehension. She looked down, realizing where it had come from: Kurt was not there.

Then, a thought entered her head, one that later proved dangerous and awful, "He's probably just with his friends." She was too tired to worry, and based on his past behavior the assumption had validity. Chances were that Kurt stayed with one of his many friends and Eda knew that, but something seemed off this time. Maybe it was Zadie's nervousness or the lack of Etheridge's derisive smirk. Something happened this time.

Etheridge returned home to his room, only to find that the door was open. His soldier instincts kicked in as he opened it with a single motion and crouched low to the ground. There was one person in his room, Zadie Bloom. She was sobbing uncontrollably, "I-I'm sorry," she let out, "It was me. I-I exposed you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your sister, she was kidnapped by Lilith. She forced me to..." Zadie sobbed.

"It-it was you? It wasn't Kurt?"

"He had nothing to do with this," Zadie admitted, "He took the fall for me."

Etheridge started to hyperventilate, until he turned around and faced Zadie with a tear-soaked face, "Why- Why?! You sided with them?!"

She nodded solemnly. "You know - he raised me. I couldn't just deny them when you were right here," she wept. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Dammit, you- you know I can handle some goons. Why did you keep it from me for so long?!" he growled, "Do you know what I did to that bastard when I thought he did it?"

"Kurt? Wh-what did you do, Etheridge?"

"I basically blocked off his powers and sent him away from Bonesborough, far away."

"What?" The crying stopped, and in its place unwavering anger and endless confusion, Zadie stood up and grabbed the boy by his collar, "You sold the Harbinger?"

"No," Etheridge responded, falling onto his back plopping two hands over his head, "I sent him right into his worst nightmare."