Hey. So, just as a quick heads up, a couple things in my personal life are looking a bit shaky for the next little while. I'm gonna be fine either way, I think I can get all this sorted out, but I just wanted to let you know there may be some delay in updates for a bit (what else is new, amiright?). Suffice to say, I'm having a somewhat frustrating start to my year.

But I'm gonna keep at this, because I love this story and I've been wanting to get to this mini-arc for a WHILE.

Anyways. To the story!

I do not own Soul Eater or the Owl House.

If I did, I'd probably have had the characters fight a Dragon at some point.

She couldn't take the ticking anymore.

Maka rocked back and forth in her chair, knees drawn up to her chest and staring silently at the doors. She had to fight the urge to look back up at the clock, her mind too addled to analogue its hands into any sort of recognizable time. The constant ticking of the smallest hand, normally so quiet, was an all but deafening, rhythmic beat that constantly and consistently hammered home just how powerless she actually was.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Instead, she waited, fighting the urge to approach the nurse and again ask the question she had been refused at least a dozen times tonight.

She knew she wouldn't be allowed to see Soul.

After all, when Papa and Stein had finally arrived, they had firmly refused to allow her to watch the surgery.

Rationally, she could understand why; they didn't want to make her feel any worse than she already did.

Even knowing this, however, she couldn't bring herself to care; she just wanted to see her partner, to look at him and know he was somehow still breathing, no matter how much it would hurt.

Nonetheless, she hadn't protested, knowing it wouldn't do any good. Instead, she had sat down in the chair closest to the door that she could find, and wrapped herself in the blanket she had been given when her trenchcoat and gloves had been swept away by the staff for cleaning, clutching the edges more tightly than she'd ever want to admit to… if she weren't so frightened of feeling those horrible Wavelengths again.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Since then, Maka had seen neither hide nor hair of Stein. The Doctor had swept away as soon as he had been informed that an operating theatre was available and that Soul was ready for surgery.

As for Papa…

He sat beside her, elbows on his knees and silently wringing his hands together as he stared pensively into the open space before him. She couldn't sense his Soul at the moment - she was too tired to register more than the basic thrum of his Wavelength - but she could still feel his fear from the incessant bounce of his heel and the way he couldn't seem to keep himself from glancing at her for more than a few seconds, his eyes always snapping back to her every time she so much as shifted.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

"... would you like me to go get your book?" he queried quietly.

The young Meister just shook her head.

"... sorry," Papa sighed, looking away, "I just…"

He trailed off, unsure of what to say - and for once, Maka couldn't bring herself to blame him for it.

What could he say, really?

"... I know… I've been…" she could hear his lips twist, see his grimace pull his whole face thin even as she never took her eyes off the door, "... I've been a terrible father. You have… every right to be angry with me. So if you want me to just… shut up and leave you alone, I will. But… I'd at least like to make sure you're…"

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

"... okay?" she finally croaked, her voice the hoarse creak of a rusty gate swinging on some abandoned fence a million miles away.

"... no. Not okay," he closed his eyes, shaking his head.

She couldn't even bring herself to bristle at the certainty in his voice, much less summon any sort of anger; she just mounted her chin on her knees, eyes dropping to the floor, her response automatic, "... 'm fine…"

"Maka."

Even exhausted as she was, the preteen had to perk up at the strange scolding that had filled Papa's tone; the redhead's cerulean eyes were piercing, his expression grave as he stared at her, hands clasped together so tight she could see his knuckles going white, his whole arms trembling with the effort he was making to keep them still.

"... I've seen this happen before," he confessed, "And believe me; you are not fine. You've been through… so much tonight. I don't know who you're putting this tough act for, but… you don't have to pretend you're okay. Not to me."

"... who said I was pretending?" Maka muttered, finally feeling some of her old anger stoke itself to life as she pointedly forced her gaze back down to the tile.

The Death Scythe's only recourse was silence; he settled back in his chair, and she could hear the defeat in the exhale that followed.

Somehow, it only made her feel worse; the brief surge of rage was undercut by another flood of raw guilt, though whether it was from her dismissal of him or another step in the cycle, she couldn't begin to guess.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

"... is it…"

"Hm?"

She hadn't even realized she had spoken; despite herself, the grey-haired preteen couldn't bring herself to stop the question from tumbling out, slowly turning her green eyes back up on her Papa, "... is it… always this bad?... when things… go wrong?..."

She hadn't thought it was possible for his expression to grow any more grim than it was; and yet, his lips pulled into a line so thin she could barely pick them apart from the rest of his skin, his eyes suddenly seeming far, far away as he leaned forwards again, staring off into the same unknowable nothing that she had been mere moments ago as he debated his answer.

Finally, he seemed to settle, eyes closing, "... it's… usually worse."

"... worse?..." the word felt hollow, somehow - she couldn't imagine how things could possibly have gone even more poorly than they had…

"... usually, there's no one like Stein around to immediately patch everyone up; it takes years of medical training for field first-aid to make a noticeable difference when something goes wrong like this," Death's Weapon began, "In most cases, they have to last until they can get access to a specialist, or back to one of the DWMA's campuses. And that's when there's survivors. When a target proves too much for a Weapon and Meister pair, or for a full team… if the pair or team don't immediately and effectively retreat, it usually ends with the death of the entire squad. Even if you successfully escape, there are no guarantees for anyone who's wounded. It's… rare that people survive cases like this."

He turned to face her once again, a solemn sympathy drawing shadows to the corners of his eyes and downturned lip, "I don't want to scare you, Maka, but… you and Soul were extremely lucky tonight."

"... lucky…" the Meister turned away again, letting her knees go, staring down at her hands; the image of the pink haired child and the looming shadow of black blood and molten metal behind them, of Soul laying broken and dying in her arms was stuck in her mind. So many ways that fight could have gone so much worse, so many ways they could have died if that boy hadn't intervened…

A shudder ran down her spine, and she wrapped her arms around her stomach, fighting down the rising horror and nausea, "... this can't be what lucky looks like…"

For a long moment, silence reigned between them, Maka left entirely unable to break it despite the surge of emotions rushing through her stomach. There was so much she was struggling and failing to stifle, so much she was struggling and failing to piece together, her physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion forcing her into a frustrating limbo that left her too exhausted to properly process any of her emotions, much less force the questions she wanted to ask into words, but too awake and aware to drift away, leaving her fear and frustration to sear in her chest like burning coals that she physically could not release.

And all the while, the clock was still ticking.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The sound of the door swinging open only stoked them as she looked up from the floor, her whole body tensing as she hoped against hope for the sight of her partner.

What she saw instead was Stein.

The scientist's face was utterly emotionless, a marble bust of picture-perfect neutrality as he stepped out into the room, grey-green eyes pensive and unfocused as he toyed with the screw in his skull, back and forth with its distinctive clicks, as if searching for the perfect frequency on a radio. He dug in his pocket, pulling out a box of cigarettes-

And somehow, Papa was on his feet before Maka had even been able to move, reaching out and snatching them.

"Seriously, Stein?" he hissed, "This is a hospital!"

"And I just finished one of the most intensive surgeries I've ever had the pleasure of performing," the Doctor deadpanned, "I think I'm clear for one cigarette."

"Not indoors, you're not," the Death Scythe huffed, pocketing the package, "Seriously, where do you even keep all these?"

"That's for me to know, Spirit," a hint of a smile crept across the elder Meister's face.

Before they could continue, the grey-haired girl forced herself to her feet; she padded up, only peripherally aware that she was still clinging to the blanket even as it trailed across the floor behind her. She was gasping for breath again, her vision blurring, but she forced the words out regardless, "P… Professor Stein…?"

"... what are you still doing here, Maka?" the stitched man inquired, "I can tell from looking at you that you're exhausted. You need rest."

"S… Soul," she insisted, "Is… is he…?"

The Professor blinked; all at once, his expression softened, the slight smile he had before returning, "Now I see. Well, you'll be happy to know that the surgeries were all successful."

The Meister felt her eyes widen, everything coming into clearer focus, "Really? He's going to be okay!?"

"I stitched his lung, stomach-" Stein's words came to an abrupt halt as his red-headed partner jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow, shooting a glare up at him; without so much as a word of protest, he sighed, "Long story short, Maka, Soul is going to make a full recovery-"

She could barely hear the rest of his sentence over the flood of relief that roared in her ears and crashed down into her stomach. Once again, the panicked energy that had been holding her up drained away, leaving her feeling numb and hollow as she staggered, trying to keep herself standing-

Only for an arm to catch her, keeping her from crashing to the floor.

"... you need rest," the redhead reiterated, steadying her, "Do you have somewhere to stay the night?"

"H… hotel… can't… remember the name," she managed, "… all-you-can-eat pasta… surprise for… Soul…"

The Death Scythe nodded, "I'll take you-"

"Spirit," Stein's interruption was unusually stern, "... remember we need someone to look after our guest. And I need to look after Soul."

"... guest…?" Maka asked.

"Stein," Papa protested, "I can't just leave Maka-"

"Maka will be fine," the Doctor insisted, adjusting his glasses, "You're a Death Scythe, Spirit. You know what the priority is right now."

Those cyan eyes dipped back down towards her, suddenly seeming as lost as Maka felt; she didn't know what they were talking about, but she could tell that whatever it was, it was important.

She pushed her father's arms away, managing to smile up at him, "... I'll be okay. You… go do what you need to. Alright?"

"... alright," he finally conceded. He stepped away, digging into his pocket and pulling out his phone; even as he strode into the hall, she could see him tracing out the numbers for Lord Death's mirror into the touch screen, but he was around the corner and gone before she could hear a word of their conversation.

"... I'm not going to make you leave the hospital," Stein started, pulling out yet another package of cigarettes, "But I am going to insist that you at least get some sleep, even if it's here in the lobby."

"... no," Maka shook her head, "You're right, Professor; staying here isn't going to do me or Soul any good."

"I'm glad to hear you're being sensible about this," he pulled a cigarette from the box-

-only to find half the box falling to the floor, the cardboard and every cigarette inside split cleanly down the middle.

Stein stared blankly at the severed cigarette in his fingers before turning to the door; Papa leaned out from behind the door-frame, meeting his eyes with a silent, baleful glare for a long moment before disappearing once again.

"... when did he-?..." the student asked.

"Probably when he took the first box from me," the scientist mused, unable to suppress a smirk.

"... it's weird," she confessed, "I never thought I'd see him so… serious."

He raised an eyebrow, "Personally, I find Spirit to be one of the most serious people I've ever met."

"Really?"

That smirk only continued to grow, "I'll be the first to admit you get more from your mother than you do from Spirit, Maka. But make no mistake - you've inherited more from your father than you realize."

The preteen snorted, but made no further comment. Instead, she looked up at her teacher, biting her lip for a moment.

"Something wrong?"

"... nothing you can fix," she murmured, "But… before I go… can I see him?"

The stitched Professor shook his head, "I'm sorry, Maka. But the fact of the matter is, you're just going to have to wait; I've gotten Soul away from the wolf, but he's not out of the woods yet. I need to keep a close eye on him, and there's nothing that you can realistically do to help at the moment.

"Besides, if I let you see him now, you're not going to want to leave."

"... yes, Professor," she nodded, though she failed to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"... I'll let you know as soon as he regains consciousness," Stein assured, "But in the meantime, please - get some rest."

With that, he turned, and walked back through the doors, leaving her all alone in the lobby.

All alone, save for the ticking of the clock.

Tick Tick. Tick. Tick.

She started out into the hall, eager to get away from the noise before it could drive her mad; it was a relief to get away from the one-to-one rhythm, but the silence brought an entirely new weight of its own as she arranged a taxi, and struggled to make sense of the hospital maps and find her way back to the entrance.

Rather than putting her phone away when she was finished, though, she began scrolling through her contact list, one name at a time, the motion aimless as the relief faded back into her seemingly perpetual unease.

It was strange. She'd thought that knowing Soul was recovering would push all her worries to the back of her mind…

Instead, it was simply one fear that was assuaged.

The others all continued to hang over her, a series of guillotine blades over her neck.

The boy in gold, and whatever had happened to him.

The Witch, and its horrifically powerful Soul Wavelength.

… and worst of all, the child, and the Demon Sword that they held in their hands, the mere memory of their Madness enough to make her squirm…

She shook her head, trying to return her attention to the list.

Her finger hovered over Papa's - Death Scythe's - contact. Briefly, she stared, debating whether or not to reinstate the block…

"... no," she whispered, "Don't be stupid… you need him right now. Now isn't the time to be bitter…"

She scrolled further, stopped.

Mama.

Surely, she would know something, could say something…

"... she's in China," Maka murmured, "Too early…"

She couldn't wake Mama up just because she was feeling lost.

Again, she scrolled down.

'Noceda.'

… the grey-haired girl didn't know why she stopped there. She didn't know why her finger hovered over the contact, why she had to stop herself from pressing it…

It wasn't like Luz would understand. She could barely make friends on her best day - what would she know about a year-long partner?...

She looked at the clock again.

The seconds passed slowly, far too slowly.

Her finger fell.

She felt her heart skip a beat as the screen went dark, as the phone rang…

But she couldn't bring herself to hit the end button.

She just sat.

Waiting.

Hoping.

For what, though, she couldn't be sure…

… just that the wait was almost certainly worse than whatever she was waiting for.

The light of the clouds beyond the glass filtered in through the gold-tinged glass in a sickly, muted yellow. The cloud cover was so thick that not so much as a trace of the Boiling Isles' purple sky was visible; it was impossible to tell where the sun was behind the thick, cloying cloak, so thick it shrouded the whole forest in increasingly dark shadows, the gold of the clouds coagulating into an ochre that reminded her far too much of mustard gas for her liking. The distant roll of thunder crashed down like a wave, though no lightning could be seen from her window.

"... looks like it's gonna rain," Luz murmured, wrinkling her nose at the stench and the wave of unnatural warmth that swept in on the breeze; she'd been expecting to open the window and find an unpleasant, but much needed chill.

Instead, an uncomfortable heat flooded the room the instant she pushed out the stained glass frame, one that absolutely did not feel like it belonged in the temperate coastline and forest that surrounded the Owl House. It was the wet, heavy heat of what she could only assume was a swamp, turning the constant stench that permeated the air into an inescapable rotting reek, not at all helped by the brine that seeped into her mouth, her nose, even into her eyes and pores. She could almost feel the uncomfortably warm water condensing on contact with her skin, the sheer humidity of the air lining her lungs, mouth and throat with thin streams with every breath she took…

"Luz, close the window!"

The Latina only halfway registered the pup's words; the diminutive Demon rushed into the room, the floorboards only slightly creaking under his negligible weight as he leaped for the windowsill. He scrabbled haphazardly, pushing himself up and out and desperately reaching for the window's handle, trying to pull it back in.

"... sorry, King," she murmured, reaching out and pulling the window closed; almost immediately, the humidity and heat dissipated, bringing a wave of cool relief into the room, "I just… wanted some fresh air."

"Fresh air!?" he snapped, staring up at her with a judgemental glower, "You're not gonna get any of that during a rainstorm!"

"We do in the human world," she protested, though her words rang oddly hollow in her ears.

"I'm sure," the tiny tyrant huffed, then forced himself to breathe. He straightened his posture, claws clasped behind his back in his failed attempt to summon an air of authority that was completely at odds with his adorable visage, "Anyways, I have new orders for you, my faithful human minion!"

"... King, I… I gotta be honest with you," the teen sighed. She slumped against the wall, letting her gaze drift back out into the oncoming storm, "I'm… really not in the mood."

"You worried about Eda?"

"... yeah," Luz confessed, "She still hasn't made it back yet…"

He stuck his tongue out towards the horizon, blowing a raspberry with every ounce of force his little lungs could muster, "Don't be. That crone can handle anything the Isles throw at her. Hell, maybe getting stuck in the rain for a while'll do her some good."

"You think?" she glanced at him, trying to understand where exactly his confidence was coming from.

"Luz, I've lived with Eda for ten years. This isn't the first time she's gone off on her own for a while," he crossed his arms, nodding sagely, "Usually, she doesn't even give any warning, and I've been left all on my own for like a week!"

"Not aaaaaaaallllll on your ooooooowwwwwwwnnn!" Hooty's high pitch drawl signalled his approach, his face now hovering just outside the window, perched on a tube that seemed caught somewhere between solid wood and the soft, boneless flesh of a demonic caterpillar. He opened his mouth, a veritable brook of babblement about to bubble forth from his beak-

Only for King to firmly pull the drapes closed, eliciting a muffled "Heeeeey!" from the living carving.

"Loudmouthed door carving," he muttered, then cleared his throat, "Human Minion Luz!" he turned to face Luz once more, puffing out his chest with his eyes closed.

The Latina struggled to bring a smile to her lips, "Yes, King?"

"Francois has brought it to my attention that your morale has dropped to an all-time low!" the pup began to pace along the length of the window sill, marching three or four steps before turning on his heel and marching back the other way, tail wagging eagerly, "As my only other semi-competent minion, your morale is important for two reasons! The first being that it affects the morale of your junior minions! The second being that it affects your performance!"

At this, the teen managed a smirk, an eyebrow climbing her forehead, "I thought I was your 'junior-most' minion?" she leaned in, eyes narrow, her voice full of conspiratorial mischief, "Have I been promoted?"

"Sssssh!" a tiny claw raised to the front of King's bone snout as his eyes snapped open wide and his fur stood on end, attempted grandeur replaced with whispered panic, "The others don't know yet! You're my second-best minion despite being so new, but if your inferiors found out you were promoted first, they'd mutiny!"

"Someone's been reading his Evil Overlord handbook," she snickered, a mote of genuine joy sparking in her chest, "'Never discuss promotions where others might hear them.'"

"Pfff. I'm the King of Demons, not some mere Overlord," he stuck up his nose, crossing his arms, "Besides, that's just common sense. Anyone who needs that in their handbook isn't fit to have minions!

"But I digress," he raised a claw once again, "I have also noticed two other things that need immediate correction. Eda has not been holding up her end of the bargain to teach you Magic, and your education is lacking in one particular area!"

"It is?" she settled back, curiosity piqued despite her unease.

"It is!" he shouted, "As such, I have decided that today is the day we rectify all of these issues!"

He hopped down from the windowsill, padding over to the door, "Come along, Human Minion Luz! I have prepared a crash-course in the most important knowledge you'll need to survive and thrive in the Boiling Isles!"

The Latina teen did her best to keep her smile in place; she could see through his ruse easily enough, passing his own concern off on Francois and hiding his attempts to cheer her up behind his role as a tyrant.

It wasn't as though she didn't appreciate his efforts. But between her screwups yesterday, unsure of what was going to happen with the Owl House, unsure even of what was going to happen to Willow and Gus, with no way to check in on them…

It made her wish that there were some way to connect a phone to a scroll.

Nonetheless, she moved to stand-

And felt her phone start to ring.

She came to a halt, blinking before pulling it from her pocket and staring at the lit up screen.

'Lil Sis Maka.

"Luz?"

"... gimme a sec, King," Luz sat back down, "I…"

"Someone from the human realm calling you again?" he asked.

"... yeah."

He huffed, but ultimately did not protest. Instead, he crossed his arms, "... can I stick around and listen?"

"Sure thing," Luz nodded, "Just… try not to make too much noise, okay?"

"I will make all the noise I want!" King declared, even as he padded back and sat himself down on her sleeping bag.

"Little goober," she snorted, a real smile breaking out across her lips before she looked back down at her phone. She breathed in, out…

And hit the green button.

"... Maka?" she started, trying to keep her anxiousness out of her tone.

"... Luz."

The Latina couldn't help but blink at the equal parts exhaustion and relief that seemed to echo from the other end of the line; Maka's voice was hoarse and hollow, somehow hammering home just how far flung they really were from each other, two oceans and a whole world away, "... you sound tired."

"... I am tired," Luz admitted, letting out a slight chuckle, "Didn't get much sleep."

"Something wrong?"

The tanned teen sighed, leaning back against the wall, a hard thunk ringing out as her skull rocked back against the wooden window frame, "It's… been a rough night. I screwed up. Eda went out last night, and… well… she still hasn't come back."

"... well, she can't have gone far," Maka started, "She has to stay on camp grounds, right?"

"She likes to wander off. And…" unsure of what to say, the elder sibling huffed again, pressing her hand to her forehead, "Like I said, I… I screwed up, Maka. I screwed up bad. Eda said she had to take care of some things, but… she shouldn't have been gone this long…"

"... I'm sorry, Luz," the younger girl murmured, sounding strangely distant - not unsympathetic, but somehow drained, exhausted by something the Latina could only guess at, "I wish I knew what to say…"

"... you don't sound too good yourself," Luz tried to force a smile, to add some chipper cheer back into her voice in hopes that it would do something to reassure her little sister, "Don't tell me you're not enjoying Venicia?"

The silence on the other end of the line spoke volumes on its own; slowly, it smothered what little joy the teen had managed to kindle in her stomach, growing instead to a newfound anxiety that swelled with each passing second.

"... Maka?" she prompted.

A shuddering breath was all she got in response.

"... Maka, what's wrong?"

"... I'm sorry, Luz," Maka finally managed; somehow she seemed even quieter than before, "I just… I don't even know where to start."

"... did… did your hunt go…?"

"... no. We… we got Sonson."

The elder girl let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She settled back against the window frame once again, hands relaxing slightly, "... okay… so… if it's not that, then…"

For another long, agonizing moment, the only sound was that of Maka's breath; she seemed to be steadying herself, each one slow and deep.

"... I just… wanted to let you know we're okay."

At this, Luz couldn't help but blink; of all the things she was expecting to hear, that hadn't been one of them.

"... are you sure?" the teen asked, her eyes drifting to the picture of Maka that she'd spliced into her family photo, "You sound…"

"Tired. Yeah," a mirthless chuckle echoed over the line, the Latina almost able to see the thin line drawn across her younger sister's face, "... I'm exhausted. A lot happened tonight. But, we're… we pulled through… and… I wanted to make sure you know. Since I forgot, last time…"

"Hey," Luz felt her own lips curling up, a spark reignited, "What happened last time is no big deal. I'd be thrown for a loop too if one of my teachers turned themselves into a zombie. And besides… you're letting me know now, right?"

"... I guess," Maka conceded, voice small and faraway all over again, "I just… didn't want you to worry, is all."

"... you said a lot happened," Luz started, "... you wanna talk about it?"

"... not right now. Maybe later," the Meister managed, "For now, I… I think I need to sleep."

"Should I leave you to it, then?"

"... yeah."

"Okay," she smiled, hoping her optimism would carry to her little sibling, "Say hi to Soul for me?"

"... yeah. I will. Once he wakes up."

"Goodnight, Maka. I love you."

"G'night, Luz."

With that, the call went dead.

Luz sighed, pocketing the phone and letting her eyes fall closed, the back of her head drifting back against the wood with a dull thunk, a slight, stinging pain rippling through her scalp on impact. Already, she could feel the small spark of cheer in her chest starting to fade, a flitting light atop the heavy weight in her chest…

"... Luz?"

"... I'm okay, King," she began, answering the question so he wouldn't have to think of a way to ask. She opened her eyes again, managing a smile as she got to her feet, hands folded behind her back as she leaned over the Demon, "So, what's this crash course you've got for me?"

At this, his eyes lit up, the purple gleaming with delight as he scrambled to his feet, scampering back out the door, "Follow me!"

She could hear his claws scrabbling across the floorboards, quickly losing sight of him as he rounded the corner and shot down the stairs like a bullet; nonetheless, she padded down after him, one hand in her pocket, the other on the railing as she pondered just what he had planned for her.

When she finally entered the foyer, King was standing near the door, having repurposed a nearby chest as a stand for whatever was beneath the heavy red cloth he had draped over its bulky frame. His tail wagged uncontrollably from where he sat beneath the cover, his high pitched grunts the only evidence of his last minute adjustments before he shoved his way back out, eyes wide as he threw on a circular hat big enough to cover the entirety of his horns and dip down over his eyes, the dark tassel slipping down the side of his head.

He shoved it back with a snarl of exaggerated annoyance - but as soon as his eyes landed on Luz, he stilled, then closed his eyes and cleared his throat, the twitching of his tail being the only sign of his excitement behind his attempt at a dignified facade.

"Human Minion Luz!" the Demon declared, raising the pen in his hand to point at her, its pink plastic gem glowing in the fireplace's firelight, "You have served me for only a short while, but you have served well thus far! Since you've displayed that you have no intention of leaving, it falls to me to educate you in the most important things you'll need in order to survive in the Boiling Isles!" he set the pen's tip on the floor, almost leaning on it like a cane, "I hope you're taking notes, because this is a one-time course! I will not be repeating any of this material!"

"I think I have a solution for that," the girl bit down on a snicker as she sat down cross legged in front of the young creature, pulling out her phone once more.

"... Luz, what're you doing?" he asked, his tone of annoyance rising to hide the slightest note of distress at the prospect of being ignored in favour of the purple box.

"I'm taking a video," the teen explained, turning the box so he could see the screen, "See here? When I hit the red button, my phone'll record what you say and show, so I can watch and listen later."

"Ooooh," the pup's distress immediately gave way to amazement, "Just like a scroll!"

"Exactly like a scroll!" Luz nodded.

"Very well, then," he raised his claw, head raised, "Immortalize my words, Human Luz! Immortalize them so you might study them for the rest of your days!"

"Way ahead of ya, King," she grinned, then hit the button, "Alright, it's recording!"

"Good!" King folded his paws behind his back, "Back to the matter at hand; it's time for you to learn about the most important thing about the Boiling Isles! Prepare yourself, for-!"

He reached up, and yanked down the red cloth, exposing the corkboard.

It was completely covered in pictures; they ranged the gambit from hasty scribbles out to painstakingly detailed murals. Pages torn entirely from their books, their ragged edges still visible in places, joined dog-eared photos and stained sticky notes, taped and tacked wherever they could fit and competing for space all across the board they shared. The display was as exuberant as it was haphazard, the images all but literally tripping over each other in a chaotic flurry of information.

But what truly got Luz's attention was what each one contained.

It was a paper Pandemonium - a papyric parade of cryptic creatures that immediately put the girl in a strange sense of awe. Gangly humanoids with no face to speak of, only pale heads and torsos clad in black; winged serpents that coiled around swords, their mouths thrown wide to expose dagger-like fangs; long kraken's tendrils connecting to an exposed brain, a sharp beak at the center of the writhing mass; feathered men with the heads of birds and the tails of serpents, compound eyes shimmering in the light; emaciated women with too many limbs and bloated abdomens, their ragged black hair failing to conceal oversized mouths with spider's fangs; winged beasts with the heads of humans, lions, eagles and bulls all at once; and a great myriad more all added to the chaotic diorama that was now on display.

"-Demonology one-oh-one!" King concluded, pointing up at the title emblazoned up in the top right corner.

Luz only felt her smile grow, tactfully deciding to ignore the extra letters he had put in the big bold DEMONOLOLOGY 101. However, when her eyes locked on one of the figures, she couldn't help her skepticism, "I gotta admit, I'm still not sure I buy the whole 'giraffes are Demons' thing."

"They are excellent actors, Luz; don't be fooled by their 'I'm a big stupid herbivore with a neck that's too long' act," the pup grimaced, "Their heinousness delves into depravity even I didn't consider on my worst days as a tyrant!"

"... what about dolphins?"

"Dolphins?" he tilted his head, his eyes alight with surprised confusion, "What's so bad about dolphins?"

"... IIIII think that's a discussion for another day," the Latina decided, keeping her smile firmly in place even as the evils of dolphinkind flashed through her mind, "We're getting a little sidetracked."

"Right, right. Starting from the beginning!" he cleared his throat, then held up his pen again, pointing it up to the figures, "Demons have existed for as long as the Demonic Realms themselves! We're among the oldest and most diverse creature groups alive, with some of our fossil records going back billions of years!"

He pointed eagerly to what looked like a cavern; it took Luz several seconds to register that the "pillars" that lined the cavern's edge were in fact the smooth insides of a ribcage, not dissimilar from the Boiling Isles themselves, albeit on a presumably far smaller scale.

"Suffice to say, Demons have been around for a lot longer than humans and Witches, forming back when the Realms were little more than primordial soup!" he held up a scrawl of what looked like a bunch of particularly Demonic amoebas, "Initially we fed on the raw spiritual energy of our surroundings, but as we grew bigger and bigger," he the pup threw up his paws higher with each 'bigger' for emphasis, "that ceased to be enough for us! So we had to turn to another method entirely!"

"You started eating Souls, right?" the girl asked, curious.

"Luuuuuz!" King whined, loud and petulant.

"Sorry! Sorry!" she waved, trying to backpedal.

"Just… let me do the lecturing, please?" he stuck a claw in the air, "Raise your hand if you have any questions!"

"I promise, King. I'm sorry," Luz nodded, cycling with her hand for him to continue.

"Thank you," the diminutive Demon acknowledged, then faked a cough, "As we grew bigger and more powerful, we had to turn to more concentrated sources of spiritual energy to survive, grow and evolve; as you might have previously guessed, the most convenient and abundant of those sources were Souls!"

Eagerly, he pointed to another picture; on this one was an illustration of a pair of dinosaur-like Demons locked in combat, the jaws of the theropod-like beast with too many legs locked firmly around the shield-like crest of the other, which struggled to impale its foe with the many horns that jutted out from its brow, beak open in a soundless shriek.

"While some settled for feeding on smaller Souls, the most powerful Demons did battle with each other in order to devour their rivals and take their power for themselves!" he cycled through pictures, mostly murals or tapestries that depicted larger and larger monsters; a chimera's leonine and serpentine heads biting into the flesh of a manticore as it retaliated with its spiked tail; a whale with teeth that were too large and too sharp to be any that Luz knew, tearing into the tentacles of a gargantuan kraken, their battle tossing a helpless ship about the waves; and an unfathomably massive serpent wrapping its coils around a wolf whose howl drove the wind, tearing through its scales with its claws and teeth even as their battle devastated the mountains and oceans around them.

"The most powerful of these Demons would eventually rise to become Kings - the most powerful Demons of their time, feared and envied by all!" King finally indicated an emblem of a mighty black Dragon, surrounded by vivid orange flames and dozens of tiny blue lights that all streamed up towards its open maw, its gemstone-like eyes shining in the hearth's firelight; the tiny pup was practically vibrating at this point, his fervour and passion so ferocious that his voice was rising to the closest thing he could have to a roar, "Their names echo through history as examples for any Demon worth their salt to live up to; the mighty Ragnarök-!"

He stopped, startled, as the Latina raised her hand, then let out a sigh, the wind firmly taken out of his sails, "Yes, Luz?"

Caught somewhere between remorse for cutting off his passionate speech, and relief that he hadn't spontaneously combusted from sheer excitement, Luz asked, "So, question… why do Demons eat Souls? Is that just a dietary thing, like you actually need it, or…?"

"Oh!" King's eyes lit up again, tearing open one of the books, responding to its warning growl with a snarl of his own before it finally settled, "Well, here's the thing, Luz! A Demon's physical biology is a lot more in-tune with its Soul than animals, Humans or even Witches!"

The skull-faced child propped up the book as best he could against the corkboard, the page open to a diagram of a small Demon surrounded by six significantly larger ones, arrows pointing out from the center figure. The tiny raptor seemed capable of growing into any number of things, from a theropod with a bony crest that could easily smash through stone, to a more sauropod-like creature that had several trees and small mountains growing out of its back, to a bird that cloaked itself in clouds and rain, lightning dancing between its talons.

"As you can see here, depending on what a Demon wants to become, they change and evolve as they age and eat! And the heavy concentrations of spiritual energy contained in Souls help induce and maintain rapid growths in the Demon's Soul, which translates directly into the Demon's physical abilities and strength!" he explained, pointing to each of the forms, "There's always some hint of the Demon's original form in the end, but this is why we're so varied!"

The Latina fought to hold back her grimace. She opened her mouth to speak, her next question at the ready-

Only for her words to be completely drowned out by the deafening roll of thunder directly overhead, sending her sprawling to the floor with a terrified yelp.

It took Luz a moment to register her own heartbeat pounding in her chest; phone laying on the floor several inches away from her hands and the room spinning. So focused had she been on King's lecture that she hadn't realized how dark it had grown outside, the grey-greens of the overcast sky and forest having deepened to a near pitch black under the roiling clouds. They utterly smothered the sky above in a churning sea of thick boiling tar, the treescape only illuminated by the brief flashes of white from the occasional lightning strike. A thick curtain of steam rose from the earth as the rain pelted down, immediately causing what few flowers had managed to grow in the cliffside clearing to wither and die where they stood.

"... what?..." she managed, voice tinged with amazed shock.

"... looks like this is gonna be a rougher storm than I thought," King murmured, up on the tips of his toes so he could peer through the glass, the raindrops violently pelting the window.

The girl pushed herself up with a grunt, snatching up her phone and approaching the window as it was shrouded in a thick cloud of liquid fog. She reached out, trying to wipe away the condensation-

"Luz-!"

King's warning came too late; Luz pulled her hand back with a gasping hiss of pain, her palm screaming with the all-too familiar sear that came from touching a pot handle left over a burning stove.

"Owowowow!" She stared down at her palm for a long moment as the angry red shine spread across her skin, making her clench her hand in vain hopes of subduing the sear, "¡Eso duele!... What was that?..."

"It's raining, Luz!" King crossed his stubby arms, glaring up at her, "What were you expecting to happen?"

"... I was expecting it to be cold," Luz bit down on a whimper, turning her gaze back outside.

"Cold?" the Demon blinked, clearly boggled by the idea.

Before he could press the issue, though, a familiar golden light shot into the clearing, visible even through the mist and the fog on the windows. It soared back and forth over the cliff, hovering for a moment before growing brighter and brighter, a small star in the midst of the storm…

Then the light washed over everything, briefly blinding Luz to the world around her.

She blinked, trying to clear her eyes, and she heard King sigh.

"Looks like Eda's back."

"What'd she just do?" she asked, managing to turn off her phone's camera between throbs of pain.

The Demon waved, dismissive, "Probably put up a barrier around the house to keep the rain from doing too much damage," he hopped back up to his board, "Can we get back to our lesson now?"

"... in a second, King," the Latina pushed away from the wall, starting towards the door.

"But Luuuuz!" he desperately motioned towards the myriad of pictures, "We only just got started!"

"I just wanna make sure Eda's okay," Luz assured, smiling, "Afterwards, we'll get right back to it."

"You're sure?" he pressed, tail twitching anxiously.

"She's been gone since yesterday; she's been awake for over twenty four hours now," she reasoned, "Eda's gotta be exhausted by now, right?"

"... alright," he acquiesced, "But once she's asleep, it's back to class!"

"Back to class," she agreed, then finally pulled open the door.

For a moment, Luz thought that somehow the Owl Lady had managed to banish the storm entirely, but another strike of lightning quickly dispelled that thought; instead, a golden shell extended around the entirety of the Owl House, gleaming with runes and magical circles all across its surface. Rain pelted against its surface and flowed down in a continuous river, pooling around its edge and casting yet more steam into the air, completely obscuring the surrounding sky from view.

Eda herself stood in the middle of the clearing, stepping gracefully through the rising steam like a ghost from the fog. Remarkably, she was entirely dry, her eyes narrowed as she weaved around the boiling - boiling!? - puddles that remained in the mud, making her way up towards the door.

"Eda!" the human raised her hand to wave, then stopped, remembering the mood the Witch had been in when she had left…

Hooty, on the other hand, either didn't remember, or didn't care.

"About time!" the tubular Demon called, craning his neck around the open door to glower at the pale woman as she reached the door, "That rain was getting close to my precious stucco!"

"Can it, Hooty," the Witch growled, finally close enough for the light of the house to illuminate the deep lines etched into her face, the deep circles around her eyes, "I am not in the mood."

"Okay, okay, jeez!" he retreated back into the wood, "Just get inside, before you catch a fever!"

This time, Eda didn't answer. Instead, she strode through the doorway, releasing her grip on her staff, which floated off and up the stairs to the second floor. She ran a hand through her long silver hair, letting out a breath through her nose, before turning to face the human and the Demon.

"... Eda?" Luz prompted, concern once again blooming in her chest.

"... feeling any better, Luz?" the pale woman queried, her lips quirking into an echo of her devil-may-care smile.

"I should be asking you that," the girl resisted the urge to reach up to cup the Witch's face, "You look exhausted."

The one-woman parliament chuckled, rounding the room to stand by the hearth, a log floating into her hand so she could toss it into the flame, "This isn't the first all-nighter I've pulled, kid. I don't feel great, but I'll pull through just fine."

"Even with that barrier?" the girl pressed, once again turning her gaze outside.

"She just said she'll be fine, Luz," King huffed, clearly not as concerned for the Witch's well-being as the human, "Now come on! We can get back to the lesson!"

Eda glanced back over her shoulder, briefly surveying the makeshift board and stage the pup had constructed before shaking her head, "Sorry, King. Your Demonology course is going to have to wait for a while."

"What!?" Luz could have sworn that she heard a hint of panic amidst the tiny terror's unwelcome surprise, his hackles rising across his shoulders and the back of his neck.

"I need Luz for something," the silver vixen stated offhandedly, "And it's not something that can be wrapped up in a few minutes. In fact, I suspect this is gonna take at least a few days."

"Wait, what?" the human blinked, startled, turning to face the Owl Lady entirely.

King stood, silent for a long moment before shock gave way to anger. He stomped to the edge of the chest, tail flailing and his fur bristling with rage, nearly choking on his own dismay, "But we just got started!"

"Then it'll be easy for you to catch up to where you left off," she added one more log to the fire before patting her hands on her dress.

"... Eda," Luz began, hoping to defuse the diminutive Demon's tantrum before it could begin; she could tell from his posture and the emotion in his voice that this was nothing like the comical outbursts that resulted from broken pencils and toppled toys, his distress at the prospect of having this lesson stolen from him very, very real, "I understand that this is important, but I already promised King that I'd listen to his lesson. And, well, this is important too; he's teaching me about Demons. If I'm gonna be staying here for a while, I should know about them too, right? Not just Witches?"

At this, the woman paused, seeming to be giving the prospect some genuine thought.

"... can't it wait for an hour or two?" the Latina ventured, "I promise, I'll come looking for you as soon as we're finished the lesson."

A deep breath, and a long sigh emanated from Eda's form as she turned to face the two, empathetic, but firm, "Sorry, you two. But this can't wait, not after the Hexside incident."

The Witch stared pointedly at Luz for a long moment, causing the teen to shrink in on herself, guilt and shame washing over her all over again. Satisfied that her point had been made, Eda continued, "The sooner we get this done, the safer we'll all be. Right now, that's far more important than a Demonology lesson."

Again, anger gave way to shock, and shock back to anger; King's whole body trembled, his claws clenching into fists. His words seemed to catch on each other and on his breaths as they tried to escape his throat, resulting in a retching growl that failed to turn into any sort of roar or scream. His furious glare failed to hide the tears that were welling up in the corners of his eyes. Beside himself with rage, he jumped down and sprinted across the room, vanishing around the corner, the only proof of his presence being the creaks of the floorboards under his weight as he raced up the stairs.

Luz started forwards, trying to follow, "King-!"

"Leave him be."

The girl stopped, turning to face her mentor; Eda's eyes were fixed on the fire again, lips pursed.

"Eda, I can't just-!" Luz motioned helplessly to where King had disappeared around the corner, "He was so excited for this!"

"... I know. But we need to spend our time wisely for now," the Witch didn't look away from the hearth, "He knows that. There'll be time for his lesson once things have settled down; right now, he needs to be left alone. He'll calm down on his own."

The mocha teen's gaze turned back to the stairway, the candles flickering; in the wake of the storm and the barrier, the whole of the Owl House had been shrouded in shadow, the candlelight and the light of the fireplace warm, but limited, the darkness seeming to gather in the corners and long, deep shades playing across the walls. She licked her lips, and then turned back to the Owl Lady, one arm clutching the other.

"... alright," she started, "What is it that you need my help with?"

Finally, Eda's attention broke away from the fireplace entirely, turning to face her apprentice; her golden eyes sharpened, and in an instant, Luz saw all of the exhaustion drain from the woman all at once, her cocky, foxy guile firmly reasserting itself over whatever else she might have been feeling.

"We're going to be jump-starting your training," her lips parted, showing off her gleaming white teeth, "I hope you're ready, Luz; we're going to get you in touch with your Soul Wavelength."

Translation of Luz's Spanish:

"¡Eso duele!"

"That hurts!"

Translation, as always, is done by the wonderful maho_kat on Archive of Our Own!

Sorry that this chapter was significantly shorter than the last one and was mostly setup. I feel like I needed to address where Luz and Maka currently stand before getting into the nitty gritty of the coming chapters.

But you all know what's coming. And believe you me, this is gonna be fun.

Thanks for giving this a read, everyone, and thank you so much for your patience and understanding with me. I hope you enjoyed the twenty seventh chapter of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!