A/N: Hello again, and welcome back to The Owlcast! Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get this chapter finished for May 30th, when The Owlcast officially turned three years old on this site, but it doesn't matter. There was a lot I crammed into this specific update in preparation for what's to come, so taking my time with it isn't an issue. Still, I can't believe it's been three years since I published the first chapter of this fic. I know I've said this in past author's note, but I honestly did not imagine this fic of mine to blow up as it has. Over 100 reviews, favourites, follows, and even today, people are still reading it. And that's just here. Having it blow up on AO3 within a year of posting was also unexpected. I never anticipated so many people being interested in Lizzie's story and following her journey through the first season as they have, for which you all have my heartfelt thanks for. Hopefully, this fic will reach its end before the fourth year mark, but for now, thank you to everyone who has been reviewing, reading, favouriting and following this fic over the years. As always, your continued support is greatly appreciated.

With the thanks out of the way, let's briefly talk about this chapter. So, for the sake of the guest in the reviews who mentioned their confusion regarding my OC numbers (which is understandable: this fic is long and my updates are... also long. XD) and anyone who shares in their confusion, there are nine official OCs you need to be keeping your eyes on. Lizzie (obviously! The fic's star and the only one I imagine no one has forgotten. XD), Xander, Lizzie's parents 'Allard' and 'Marigold', Xander's father 'Ulritch', Vance Sycamore (a wild witch originally introduced in Chapter 31) and Xenia (a basilisk Xander and Lizzie encounter during episode 13), Miri (someone who was recently introduced in the previous chapter) and the 'mystery witch' with the raven palisman (another one officially introduced in the previous chapter, though maybe she has been mentioned by other characters before... Who can say~? XD). In this particular chapter, the focus is going to be on Xander, Ulritch and Allard, with Lizzie taking a bit of a backseat close to the end for when the POV switches. But unlike in previous chapters, I am not going to say anything regarding the events in this specific chapter. I shall let the writing speak for itself, especially as the long awaited twist I have been planting seeds for is about to take fruition. I wonder if anyone will clock onto it... XD

I don't know when I will have the next chapter out, but in the meantime, I hope you enjoy the OC content I have given you. And don't worry. Canon events will kick back in for the next one, as you will come to see by the chapter's end.

Chapter 63: Ignorance is Bliss

As morning arrived throughout the Boiling Isles and enveloped the streets of Bonesborough in its welcoming glow, the Blackwood residence stood tall and proud against the soft light bathing its front. Not a sound came from inside the home, the lack of activity indicated outwardly to those passing by the house by the curtains that remained drawn before all of the front windows.

Well, with one exception.

In the bedroom that belonged to Xander Blackwood, the light of dawn breaking out over the Boiling Isles flooded into the box-like room, granted full access as a consequence of the parted curtains that were never drawn. The young witch in question, wearing an oversized black t-shirt and a pair of matching shorts, laid sprawled on his back atop his duvet with his arms above his head, staring blankly at the ceiling strewn with streaks of gold with his scarred eye uncovered.

Visible and blackened rings hung under Xander's lower eyelids. His usually tidy and neatly styled blonde hair was stuck-up in random places. Every joint in his body throbbed and ached (part of him blamed that wretched bird-tube nearly squeezing the life out of him yesterday). And to top it all off? That freakin' guilty ache in his gut that hadn't ceased since his departure from Lilith yesterday afternoon. Meanwhile, he ignored the soft snores that rose from Bandit, who was curled up fast asleep on his middle, having stayed in the exact same position he'd dozed off in last night. How nice, Xander thought sarcastically. At least someone had had a better sleep than he did. Though, perhaps it was more accurate to say that he hadn't slept a wink.

His old man was working late when Xander arrived home yesterday, while his uncle and aunt had obscured themselves in his uncle's old bedroom as per the usual, so the young coven scout was left home alone with his thoughts for pretty much the rest of the day. On the one hand, Xander considered it a blessing. The entire situation with Lilith, Elisabeth, the Owl Lady and the rest of her little gang had sent him through quite a loop, and the last thing he needed was his father asking one too many questions or getting into his head while he wasn't in a state of mind to tactically fend him off. But on the other hand, Xander also considered it a curse. It had left him at the mercy of his conscience and conflicted thoughts once more, both of which played his little cousin's and his palisman's words from yesterday on repeat like a broken record.

Plaguing him.

Taunting him.

Scrambling his already scrambled sense of self-esteem and confidence further.

'You don't want to arrest your cousin.'

'You know she doesn't deserve it. Stop lying to yourself.'

'But you really should trust Bandit's judgement more often. The little guy really cares about you, just like you really care about him. Do you honestly think he would trust me if he thought I was going to hurt you?'

Closing his eyes certainly hadn't helped. Physically, his aching and throbbing bones begged for rest, for him to shut his eyes and drift off so the prayers of his weary body were answered. But each time he tried to fall into the void of slumber, Lilith's stern order as they'd parted sprung to mind and forced his eyes straight back open.

'But do not take that as an invitation to pursue Elisabeth in the meantime. I'll be dealing with my sister in due course. I want to make sure no one innocent is going to be caught in the crossfire. Is that clear?'

Xander groaned quietly and furiously stroked both sets of his fingers through his messy blonde locks, eventually pausing to dig them deep into his scalp.

He hated how much of an easy read that naïve coven leader was. Had Lilith Clawthorne been anyone else, her words would have been easier for Xander to write off and ignore. But Xander Blackwood and Lilith Clawthorne were more alike than he liked to admit. It was why she'd been so easy to manipulate right from the very start, and also why the young coven scout knew deep down—despite trying so hard to deny it—that her warning to the Owl Lady wasn't just any empty threat. Just recalling her mental breakdown after the Owl Lady beat her at that grudgby game made Xander's skin crawl. The desperation in her voice as she wailed to the skies in the face of defeat a second time, weakly inflicting her anger and humiliation into the punches she threw at the dirt, the fear she whimpered from her lips at the thought of returning to her superior without the Owl Lady in handcuffs; Xander knew it all well, during every instance Elisabeth had inflicted defeat and humiliation upon him.

The leader of the emperor's coven wasn't messing around anymore. She'd declared war on the Owl Lady, on that demonic mutt of hers, on that scrawny creature the Owl Lady kept around (a 'human', according to Bandit; he'd apparently heard that word in conversation during the times Xander had sent him to spy on the Owl Lady in the market), and his little cousin. He knew all four of them were going to get wrapped up in whatever Lilith was planning for them, the very thought of it intensifying the aching still in his gut.

With a sickly moan, Xander's green eyes finally shifted from the ceiling over to his wooden desk shoved away in the far-left corner of his room, focusing his gaze on his coven uniform hung over the back of his chair. Lilith might have given him the day off, but he knew he needed to move soon and get dressed. After all, Xander still had an image to maintain for his old man, didn't he?

With his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, Allard Redwood silently stood at the top of the stairs descending to the ground floor of the Blackwood residence, staring blankly at the brightened and open entryway at the end of the rectangular wooden tunnel shrouded in darkness. Occasionally, the middle-aged witch swayed his body from side to side a little, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, trying to bide his time while he worked up the courage to go down there to get himself a drink. But all the while he could feel that familiar dread swirling and gurgling away in his gut, keeping his feet rooted to the top step of the stairs.

Allard hadn't stepped foot in his old home since he was sixteen, with the man who was supposed to be his 'father' being gone from this place at least a year before his nephew was born. And yet during the three-year confinement he and his wife had endured in his former childhood home, that wretched and decrepit witch's presence had continued to linger in every dark and windowless hallway Allard attempted to traverse, in every uncomfortable gut feeling he experienced whenever he was even remotely reminded of him, in every smug comment that came out of his twin brother's mouth. He was the reason why Allard's and Marigold's first house that they bought together had an open set of stairs and a landing. The design was intentional, to remove anything that could even bring about a trace of that monster of a witch, to give Elisabeth the freedom and warmth that Allard never found in the house he'd grown up in. For over two decades, Reginald Blackwood had been gradually shoved to the dark corners of Allard's mind, his voice getting quieter and quieter as the years went on. But now, thanks to his selfish brother robbing him of the happy life he'd built with his wife and only child, all that work had come crashing down like a child's tower of toy blocks.

Allard couldn't deny it; Ulritch had done too good of a job at keeping the spirit of their so called 'father' living on in this house, and Allard hated it. He knew Ulritch was down there right now, sat in the same chair their old man used to sit in, perusing the morning newspaper the same way their old man used to, just waiting for the opportunity to get under his skin like he'd do when they were children. He couldn't bring himself to face that. But what else was he supposed to do? Marigold would happily go down there on his behalf if he asked her, but he didn't want to subject her to Ulritch's teasing and taunts. Unlike him, his wife had a shorter temper and was fiercely protective of him and their daughter. Angering her was an easy feat and Ulritch knew exactly which buttons to push; his brother delighted in tormenting Marigold as much as he did him, and the last thing Allard wanted to do was to give Ulritch that opportunity. It was the least he could do to shield his wife from situations he himself had spent countless years enduring as a child and a teenager.

Nocturne lingered behind his owner in the meanwhile, his body bent round the backs of Allard's legs as he peeked round his right one with a droopy tail and ears. The wolf palisman sensed and shared in Allard's reluctance, yet it didn't stop him from gently nudging Allard with his side, as if subtly reminding him that he was right behind him whenever he was ready to go. A weak smile appeared on Allard's face as he acknowledged his palisman's attempt at reassurance. A hand slipped from his pockets to rub gently behind Nocturne's ears, prompting the wolf palisman to close his eyes and nuzzle his owner's palm in return.

Allard's face fell neutral upon righting himself and putting his hand back in his pocket, taking a quick deep breath in and out. Then, holding his head high and raising his shoulders, the adult witch began his slow walk down the stairs, with Nocturne loyally following beside him. Every time a step creaked underneath his feet, Allard couldn't help but flinch and close an eye, briefly pausing and making Nocturne do the same. Yet he persisted, counting to five in his head and taking another step down, purposely moving one step at a time.

The process repeated until Allard's feet was flat against the bare floor of the living room, green eyes taking in the image of Brutus curled up before the front door, his breathing steady, his eyes closed. The moment the coyote palisman realised there was a new presence in the room, both of his brown eyes snapped open to look directly at the stairs. Allard watched Brutus' head rise suddenly from the mat and his ears straighten as he took in the sight of him and Nocturne, the adult witch staying put for the time being. Their silent stare down was only interrupted when Allard spied Nocturne cautiously walk forward and take on a wide stance directly in front of him, amber eyes fixated on Brutus the whole time.

White wolf and grey-furred coyote stared each other down intensely, neither daring to utter a single noise or break eye contact. That swiftly changed when Brutus' owner finally decided to break the tense silence now enveloping the ground floor of the home.

"Ally," Allard heard the voice of Ulritch sarcastically greet him from where he was seated at the table, the use of the nickname making the younger blonde's fingers twitch uncomfortably in his pockets; Oh, how he loathed that 'nickname'. "What a pleasant surprise."

Allard's gaze shifted to the chair at the head of the table closest to him, locking eyes with his older brother's back and his current outfit for the day. The current Blackwood patriarch was currently interested in the opened newspaper he was holding up between his hands, causing Allard to narrow his eyes out of suspicion.

"How did you know it was me?"

A pig-like snort left Ulritch, his shoulders shaking a bit with suppressed amusement.

"You really need to change your walk down the stairs, little brother. It's like we're both teenagers again." Allard clenched his jaw to stop himself from firing a retort, staring daggers into the older blonde's back as he momentarily let one side of his newspaper go to pick up his teacup to his left. "Also, Brutus never growls at you, remember? Just at Alexander or your wife. So, who else was it going to be?"

Allard knew exactly what his brother was attempting to do, thus he continued to be silent, allowing Ulritch to sip on his tea without interruption. He wasn't going to play into his little games. Though his response still managed to send a tingle down Allard's spine. For all of Ulritch's narcissism, Allard often forgot how cunning and perceptive his older brother could be when he had the mind to utilise his skills to gain an advantage.

The younger blonde watched Ulritch ruffle the pages of the newspaper to straighten them before turning to the next set of pages, still refusing to even spare his little brother a glance. "You've emerged from your room a little earlier than usual. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I wanted some tea," Allard answered calmly.

"That's all?" Ulritch questioned rhetorically, only to click his tongue and shake his head. "How disappointing. And here I thought you'd made a special effort to see your dear older and more successful brother off to work."

Allard rolled his own eyes at Ulritch's remarks. He wouldn't call inheriting the family's potions business by default 'more successful'; if only Allard was able to say that out loud without any potential repercussions.

"And what about your wife?" Ulritch pressed after a short delay. "Where's she at this morning?"

"Upstairs, of course." Allard glimpsed the wooden door leading to the kitchen just to his right, resisting the urge to sigh heavily at his brother purposely wasting his time and energy. "She's still sleeping."

"Is she now," Ulritch remarked with feigned interest.

"Why do you ask?"

Ulritch's response was delayed. While Allard couldn't see what his older brother was doing, he did see Brutus turn his head to Ulritch expectantly, and then Ulritch raise his index finger from the newspaper, like he was subtly telling Brutus to remain on guard for now.

"Oh, no reason," Ulritch answered sarcastically.

And naturally, Allard didn't buy that, proven by the disapproving scowl that graced his brow. "Mari is asleep, Ulritch. Feel free to go upstairs and check the room if you don't believe me."

"And leave you down here alone with Brutus?" Ulritch finally tilted his head back to look his younger brother in the eyes, that smug smile dancing on his lips making Allard's blood begin to boil. "You can't fool me, Allard. I know exactly what you're trying to do."

"No, you don't," Allard answered wearily with the slump of his posture, feeling his patience being grated away like a block of cheese shredding against a grater. He was trying to keep his composure. Oh Titan, was he trying. But even after all these years, Ulritch somehow still managed to get to him. "Must we have these silly interrogations every single time Mari or I step out of our usual routine?"

"If it means ensuring that you and your wife aren't planning a jailbreak under my nose, then yes, I believe we must."

"And how do you think we'd even accomplish that in our predicament?" Allard removed a hand from his pocket to gesture to his right ankle, where his tracking seal was. "We have no way of leaving this household safely. We'd be on the ground paralysed the second we stepped out into the street."

"Very true." But then Ulritch's smile fell, his earlier cockiness melting away with a squint and the furrow of his brows into a harsh glare. "And yet three years ago, Elisabeth managed to do a disappearing act after the carriage transporting her to the Conformatorium happened to crash," he continued in a low voice and with forced emphasis, his teasing from a moment ago long gone. "Now, where in the Titan's name could a fifteen-year-old witch like her have possibly learnt that from?" He tilted his head to the side and arched a brow at the younger blonde witch. "Perhaps from the parents who used to frequently skip their classes without getting caught during their time at Hexside, hmm?"

Instinctively, Allard hunched his shoulders and took a step back towards the stairs, slyly gulping at his older brother's abrupt switch in demeanour. If the blonde witch closed his eyes right now, he could easily picture their old man over Ulritch's image, his guttural voice repeating every word that left his younger brother's mouth.

A short stare down ensued between the two brothers, only ending once Ulritch looked Allard up and down and snorted derisively.

"You may have fooled the guards into believing you weren't responsible for Elisabeth's indoctrination into wild magic, Ally, but don't forget that you and I lived under the same roof for sixteen years. Growing up, I saw the rebellion against the coven system building inside of you, inside of Marigold, inside of Cecilia…"—he hissed the last part from his lips, his teeth gnashing together as he did so—"You and your wife can play pretend all you want, but there's a reason why you're both under house arrest right now, why your daughter is wandering the isles as a wanted criminal, why my so-called ex-wife has been on the run for over thirteen years now."

Ulritch leaned against the back of the chair, eliciting a loud, ear-piercing squeak from its seat that made Allard's eye twitch out of discomfort. "I know more than you think I do, little brother." Ulritch tapped the side of his temple with a finger. "The only reason why you don't see it coming is because I know how to play my cards right. And I promise you, you're going to see it again real soon when Elisabeth slips up."

A bead of sweat sprung to Allard's forehead as he shuffled closer to the stairs, attempting to send his older brother what he hoped was a threatening glare. "We've been through this: Elisabeth's case is a cold one. That rumour about her being at the Conformatorium with the Owl Lady was a fluke."

"Was it now?" Ulritch chuckled lowly, letting a small smirk slip onto his face. "You remember during the time Elisabeth's case was publicised across Bonesborough, everyone came to believe that the Owl Lady was the escaped criminal because she was sighted near the carriage accident that night?"

"I remember."

"And then, three years later, we have a rumour that the Owl Lady broke into the Conformatorium and someone in her little entourage caused a fire potion to explode in the warden's face." Ulritch twisted himself round in his chair to face his newspaper once again, purposely whipping the papers about to straighten it out. "I'd hardly call that a coincidence, would you?"

Allard felt the inside of his mouth and throat dry up at hearing his older brother's logical deductions. Since receiving Elisabeth's note, he and Marigold hadn't given the matter of who their daughter was with much thought, due to their focus primarily being on their relief that Elisabeth was alive and well. But hearing Ulritch saying all of this out loud made the younger blonde reluctantly inclined to agree with his older brother; wasn't the messenger of Elisabeth's note an owl palisman?

"As I said, little brother, it's only a matter of time. She will slip up, and you won't be able to protect her this time," Ulritch continued without breaking eye contact from the newspaper, remaining oblivious to Allard's pupils shrinking and his breath hitching in his throat. "She's not a minor anymore. Everything she's done she is solely responsible for. So, I'd prepare yourself, if I were you."

Allard's nostrils flared, the anger he'd been trying so hard to keep under control gradually beginning to slip through the cracks Ulritch was forming. Allard knew Ulritch was trying to get a reaction out of him and yet he was slowly losing the will to keep his cool despite this. Nocturne sensed the shift in his owner's demeanour, shuffling close to Allard's feet and taking on a wide stance that placed himself directly between Allard and Ulritch.

"Is that a threat?" Allard spat in a low voice, his tone underlined with a hint of a growl as his hands shook inside his trouser pockets.

But Ulritch didn't give a verbal response. Instead, the older Blackwood twin dared to tilt his head back at his younger brother and give him a smirk. A toothy smirk.

Ulritch's answer was loud and clear. He knew he was getting to him and relishing in it, sending a rush of heat to Allard's face that almost tempted him to propel his body across the room with the urge to punch that smirk straight off his older brother's face. Because how dare he threaten his only child just to get a reaction out of him!

Luckily for Allard, the sound of hurried footsteps down the stairs immediately quelled that temptation, dousing it as fast as a bucket of water thrown onto raging flames.

Reacting instinctively, Allard and Nocturne stepped backwards out of the way of the stairs just in time to witness Xander jogging straight past him and towards the front door, his nephew dressed in his coven scout uniform, mask covering his face, hood of his cloak pulled over his head. But Xander only got a short way from the stairs before Brutus registered his entrance. The coyote palisman lowered his body to the floor and bared his fangs with a gluttonous growl, forcing the young witch to dig his heels into the wooden floor and skid to a stop halfway across the ground floor.

"Alexander," Ulritch sternly greeted, father and son meeting gazes when the former peeked over his shoulder and the latter turned to look at him. Without breaking eye contact, Ulritch raised his palm at Brutus, silencing the coyote palisman and prompting him to stand tall again once more. "What in the Titan's name are you doing, boy? You know there's no running around in the house."

With his brother's attention elsewhere, Allard took the opportunity to face the kitchen doorway and unclench his fists in his trouser pockets, closing his eyes and taking short and heavy breaths in and out of his nose to calm himself down. In response, Nocturne lightly knocked and rubbed against the back of his owner's legs with his side, attempting to do what he could to help ease Allard's turmoil in his own way.

"I'm sorry, sir," Xander apologised to Ulritch monotonously, standing up straight and clasping his gloved hands behind his back. "I've been called to the precinct earlier than usual today. I didn't want to keep my superior waiting."

"Then at least wait until you're out the door next time," Ulritch chided and clicked his tongue. He returned his attention to his newspaper while he continued to grumble under his breath, raising two fingers for Brutus to see and then swiping them to the side to signal for the coyote palisman to step out of the way of the front door. "Good grief."

Xander nodded stiffly despite his father not seeing it, briefly watching Brutus move to stand underneath the window close to the fireplace. "Of course, sir. Sorry again, sir."

"As you should be." Ulritch waved Xander off dismissively. "Now go."

"Yes, sir."

Assuming that was the end of the interaction between father and son, Allard peered over at his nephew upon hearing his boots striding for the front door, silently watching his cloaked back. However, as Xander opened the door and stepped over the threshold, his masked gaze caught his uncle's when he turned to pull the door shut behind him. The young coven scout paused for five seconds and then shot the older blonde a sly wink, missing Allard's green eyes widening in surprise at closing the door with a gentle click.

Allard ignored his older brother's weary sigh and comments as he turned his eyes to the top of the stairs, his mouth falling open a little at the realisation that smacked him in the face.

"That boy… He should know better by now."

Had Xander run down the stairs on purpose to divert Ulritch's attention away from him?

However, at catching Ulritch turning his way again from the corner of his eyes, Allard quickly closed his mouth and lowered his head, locking eyes with his older brother's narrow-eyed glare.

"Well, Ally? Don't you have a cup of tea to make?"

Taking that as the signal that Ulritch was done with his taunting for now, Allard turned away and sauntered in the direction of the kitchen, hearing Nocturne padding after him. Though at spying the cloak of his nephew's uniform pass in front of the living room windows, the adult witch couldn't help smiling a little in amusement.

Meanwhile, in the street outside of the Blackwood residence, Xander strolled to the lower parts of Bonesborough with Bandit tucked away in his cloak hood, quietly chuckling to himself regarding his recent actions. His moment of mirth was interrupted by his ferret palisman poking his head out of the hood and cocking it to the side curiously.

'That was a risky thing to do,' Bandit squeaked.

Xander dismissed it with the shake of his head, reaching up a gloved hand to roughly pat Bandit atop his own head. "Relax, little buddy. I knew what I was doing."

Bandit whimpered and flattened his ears. 'But that could have ended badly! What if he was in a foul mood and decided to lash out at you, like all those times before?!'

Xander scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I've watched that man like a griffon for most of my life. He was not going to flip his lid because I broke the 'no running' rule. And it made for a convenient way to make sure he doesn't find out about my unexpected day off." The young coven scout casually shrugged his shoulders. "Besides, I still owe Uncle for rescuing you from Brutus before. If I hadn't intervened right then and there, he would have been the one in the boiling water and not me."

'You said it! Though, I don't blame your uncle.' Bandit shuddered and shuffled backwards into Xander's cloak hood with a low hiss. 'Your dad is so scary sometimes. All those accurate guesses he made about Elisabeth and the Owl Lady, despite you not telling him anything...'

"Yeah, well, that's my old man for you," Xander replied through a weary sigh, lowering his head a little. "But speaking of my dear little cousin, I believe you and I have some unfinished business with her, don't we?" When Bandit didn't give a verbal response, Xander looked over to see the ferret palisman scrunching his nose and giving him a suspicious squint, prompting Xander to smirk in amusement from behind his mask. "Easy there, bud. I'm not going to disobey my orders. I was talking about Elisabeth's helpful advice."

Xander saw Bandit blink in confusion and cock his head to the side, causing the young coven scout to huff and face the street once more. "As much as I loathe to admit it, Elisabeth was right: I do need to trust you more."

From his peripheral vision, Xander caught Bandit's ears and tail straightening with a shocked screech. Xander arched a brow from behind his mask.

"What's with that reaction?" he questioned sarcastically. "This isn't the first time I've listened to Elisabeth, you know!"

Bandit merely shrugged his body in response, prompting Xander to tut and shake his head in dismissal.

"Well, anyway," Xander continued quietly. "since my schedule is clear today, I was thinking of you and I going somewhere private to talk." Xander subconsciously rubbed a gloved hand against his still aching gut. "I've got a lot on my mind and could use a listening ear for a change." He gave Bandit a sly sideways glance. "What do you say, buddy?"

And Bandit replied far more quickly than Xander anticipated, nodding enthusiastically and releasing a chirp-like bark to show his agreement. The young coven scout couldn't suppress his smile at the sight, thanking the Titan that he had his mask to hide it for him. Around the same time, as Xander and Bandit made their way down the slope, a slightly taller figure dressed in a flowing blue cloak strolled past them in the opposite direction, her head lowered a little and her face hidden behind her moon patterned hood. Though neither Xander nor the unknown figure acknowledged each other in passing.

"Glad to hear it," Xander said to Bandit, returning his gaze ahead. "Then we should head to the forest. We'll be safe to talk without repercussions there."

Once Xander and the cloaked figure had fully passed each other, the latter slowed to a gentle halt, her breath hitching in her throat. She dug her fingers into the front of her cloak and waited until she heard Xander's footsteps dying away before she dared to peek at the coven scout's cloaked back from over her left shoulder, blue eyes immediately welling with tears as she did so.

"That voice…" she almost croaked. "I know of it. From the visions. That's…"

She trailed off at the temptation to dart after him, her fingers uncomfortably twitching with the urge as Xander slowly got further away from her. A quiet caw from inside of her hood brought her back down to earth, however, prompting the figure to sniffle and rub her tears away with her palms.

'Mistress Cecilia,' her raven palisman cawed.

"Sorry, Charon," Cecilia apologised in a cracked whisper to the raven palisman stowed away in her hood, sideways glancing her companion when he poked his head out a little to look at her face. "But can you blame me? He's grown so much since I last saw him…"

'Charon' sighed heavily and shook his head in dismay. 'Yes, I agree the young master has matured quite nicely. But we mustn't delay. There will be trouble if someone should recognise your face.'

Cecilia reluctantly nodded, finally breaking her gaze away to tug her hood further over her face and inhale deeply through her nose. "Yes, of course. We can't be having that," she spoke more firmly this time. With her former sadness evaporated, Cecilia directed a hateful scowl to the first two-storey house on the row to her left, the sight of her former home causing her next words to come out low and venomous. "At least until my business here is dealt with."

When Lizzie opened her eyes following her slumber, she was greeted by the invitingly golden glow of the mid-morning sun blaring into the cupboard-like bedroom. Rolling over onto her right side and stretching her arms above her head with a small grunt, her eyes instinctively homed in on Luz's side of the room. She quickly took notice of the abandoned sleeping bag and crumpled balls of parchment scattered around it, with Luz (nor King) nowhere in sight. Not unusual, Lizzie thought. She remembered she was the first of the pair to fall asleep last night, with Luz insisting on staying awake a little longer to make sure Eda came home safe and sound. She must have been doing some late-night glyph drawing practice to kill some time.

Upon getting her bearings, Lizzie immediately left the bedroom and headed straight for the bathroom, mentally deciding after emptying her bladder to start her morning off by looking for Eda. She had fallen asleep before Eda returned, after all, and for her own peace of mind, she thought it was best to make sure the Owl Lady actually did make it back to the Owl House in one piece. But by the time Lizzie finished up in the bathroom and started groggily descending the stairs, she paused mid-eye rub with her sleeve and halted after stepping off the bottom step when something soft crinkled loudly under her bare foot. A quick glance downward and the slight raising of her foot revealed it was another ball of crumpled paper now flattened against the floor.

"What the…?" Lizzie mumbled, allowing her eyes to wander to the hallway ahead of her.

Her brows raised sharply at the sight of the little zigzagged trail of balled-up paper leading straight into the living room, her earlier weariness washing away as quickly as the Boiling Sea crashing into a cliff face. No doubt this was Luz's doing, Lizzie swiftly concluded.

'Why do I get the feeling Luz is struggling to remember the glyph she spotted during her grudgby match yesterday?'

That conclusion was confirmed when the blonde-haired witch sauntered after the trail of paper into the living room. Lizzie momentarily stopped in the doorway to see Luz sitting on the farthest seat of the red sofa, already dressed in her Hexside uniform. Clumps of paper littered the area around where she was sat and over the coffee table, exposing her as the primary culprit. However, Luz didn't appear to be drawing away anymore. She'd brought her knees close to her chest and was currently narrowing her hazel eyes at something supported against her thighs that Lizzie couldn't see, prompting the older witch to resume her walk to the sofa.

"Morning, Luz," Lizzie greeted, making Luz's head turn to face her with a forced blink.

"Morning, Liz!"

"Still no luck remembering that glyph, huh?"

Luz's eyes drooped with a displeased frown. "Don't remind me," she said through a huff, raking a hand through her purplish-brown locks. "It's just my luck that the one time I find another glyph, it's when Boscha throws a flaming grudgby ball at my face…"

Lizzie smiled sympathetically as she slouched back into the seat on the opposite side of the sofa, resting an arm against the sofa's arm. "Did you try staring into flames to see if it would pop up again?"

Lizzie recalled Luz mentioning last night that she assumed the glyph was for fire, seeing as it was the only main element she had left to find. That and the fact Luz didn't think it was a coincidence that the glyph only appeared when Boscha set the grudgby ball on fire; Lizzie agreed that was a big giveaway.

"… Yes," Luz answered despondently, sending the currently lit fireplace on the other side of the living room a glare. "I stared at the fireplace for ages. And then I asked Eda to use a fire spell outside to see if that worked—" Luz paused to look at Lizzie and point up at the ceiling. "—Eda's in her room, by the way. She's fine, just tired—" Lizzie nodded out of acknowledgement, letting Luz continue with the shake of her head. "—but neither of those ideas did."

"Well, don't get too down about it. I'm sure you'll see it again at some point."

"Oh, don't worry!" The teenage human dismissively waved her hand. "I stopped looking for the glyph ages ago."

"Oh?" Lizzie lifted a brow out of confusion, her eyes flitting to Luz's lap. "Then what have you been doing?"

"Reading up on the emperor for the field trip." Luz patted at the open book she apparently had in her lap. "I want to make sure I know as much as everyone else before we get to the emperor's castle."

"But isn't the whole point of you going on the field trip to the emperor's castle so you can learn more about the emperor there?" The blonde witch briefly turned her eyes to the ceiling and scratched at her head. "Unless I'm remembering my experience during my Hexside days wrong."

Luz chuckled and shook her head in amusement, playfully swatting Lizzie on her closest arm. "No! You're right!"

"So, why not wait?" Lizzie lightly nudged Luz in her closest shoulder, sending her a teasing smirk. "No one's going to judge you for not knowing about the emperor of the Boiling Isles, Luz. You're not native, after all."

Luz ushered Lizzie away with the gentle swipe of her fingers, an amused smile of her own making its appearance. "I know, I know! But…" As the Latina human trailed off, her smile faded, her mouth turning downward with the slight furrow of her brows at the next words to quietly leave her lips. "… I was hoping it'd help me make up my mind."

"Make up your mind about what?"

"Whether I should go on the field trip or not."

Luz didn't need to explain herself for Lizzie to understand where she was coming from. Considering the current circumstances, the answer was as clear as day, hence why the older blonde's smile dimmed down a little.

"Is this because of what Lilith said?" Lizzie questioned.

Luz raised a hand and tilted it backwards and forwards, her brows furrowing further while she tried to think of how to explain it. "Kinda. But it's also the whole situation in general."

"What do you mean?"

Luz didn't answer straightaway. The Latina human averted her gaze to the book in her lap and knitted her brows together, as though she were mulling something over. Yet Lizzie did and said nothing in the meantime, choosing to watch Luz bore holes into the open pages and run the palm of her hand down one of the book's edges. She had a sneaky suspicion this was related to the hesitance she'd seen from Luz last night, so she wanted to give her the opportunity to open up on her own should she feel comfortable to.

The silence was suffocating, yet after allowing it to drag on for as long as she needed to, Luz broke it with a deep inhale through her nose and a deep exhale out of her mouth.

"We learned about Emperor Belos during our History class yesterday," Luz explained lowly, shuffling to the edge of the sofa cushion and closing the book with a gentle thump. "How he came into power over fifty years ago, how he created the coven system and appointed a coven head to each of the main nine to control magic, how he claims to be the messenger of the titan, whose bones the Boiling Isles is apparently on." Putting her feet flat on the floor and the book on the coffee table, Luz turned to Lizzie and cocked her head to the side. "I didn't know that magic originally came from the titan's bones."

"And now you know why Eda was telling you to get in touch with nature," Lizzie joked, prompting Luz to weakly smile in amusement for a few seconds.

"Ha, ha, yeah…" She awkwardly laughed, only to fall serious and look down at her twiddling thumbs. "Eda said that the emperor is after her because she refuses to 'fall in line'. Her words," Luz hastily added at the slight smile she caught slipping onto Lizzie's lips; she knew the blonde witch knew whose words they were. "I get that Eda is a big witch criminal on the Boiling Isles and all. But why is Lilith only taking this seriously now if the emperor has been after her for years? She didn't seem as serious about it before."

'And here is yet another time where I underestimate how sharp Luz can be.' Lizzie sighed heavily and ran both sets of fingers through her messy blonde locks, averting her own green-eyed gaze to her lap as her thoughts flitted to her conversation with Eda yesterday evening. 'Though, I can't blame her for asking questions. Even Eda was baffled by Lilith's reaction yesterday. It's like something in her just… snapped.'

"I don't know, Luz. I really don't know," Lizzie eventually answered quietly, clasping her hands underneath her chin and leaning forward to rest her chin on them. "This entire situation is complicated, more so than usual. I can't give you the answers you're looking for."

"That's fine," Luz reassured, scooting over to sit beside Lizzie and lightly bumping her side against the older witch's. "But do you think it's a good idea for me to go? I want to be there for Gus and Willow, but I don't like how they've treated you and Eda. I feel like I'm betraying you guys by going."

"Pfft!" Lizzie suppressed a laugh and returned the bump, albeit a little rougher, making Luz wobble to the other side a little. "Betray us?"

Luz's cheeks flushed a little as she mimicked the shove with both her palms into Lizzie's arm. "You know what I mean! I'm being serious!"

Lizzie cackled a little and waved Luz off with her hand. "I know, I know! I'll stop!"

"Then what would you have done if you were in my position?"

However, before Lizzie could even begin to think of a response to give, a thunderous and muffled thump echoed through the foundation of the cottage, slightly rattling Eda's living room knickknacks about for a couple of seconds. After everything fell still, Luz and Lizzie simultaneously lifted their heads to the ceiling, frowning and sharing a suspicious squinted glance when nothing else seemed to follow it.

"… What was that?" Luz cautiously questioned.

Her enquiry was swiftly met by a muffled and loud high-pitched roar resounding from the stairs in the hallway, causing both of Lizzie's and Luz's joints to freeze up. Lizzie's blood ran cold as she and Luz slowly turned their heads to the living room doorway, their eyes bulged and the colour practically drained from their faces.

Didn't they know that roar?

"… Eda," Lizzie finally answered Luz in a breathless whisper. "That was Eda."

"As the Owl Beast?" Luz nearly shrieked, getting a numb nod from the blonde witch without her turning around. "But I saw Eda take her elixir this morning!"

Luz's words made Lizzie's stomach drop, the blonde witch's head snapping back to the younger human so fast, she was surprised it didn't snap off. "She's taken her elixir?"

"Yeah!"

Lizzie felt her heart and bile sac leap into her mouth.

'But if Eda took her elixir…'

"No…" Lizzie uttered in a cracked voice, her head whipping back to the living room doorway at the dread swirling in the pits of her gut. "No, no, no—"

With her eyes starting to sting, the blonde-haired witch jumped up from the sofa and madly dashed out of the living room, her sudden movement startling Luz and causing the teenage human to recoil with a wide blink.

"Liz!" Luz shouted after the older witch as she clumsily scrambled to her feet, following Lizzie the second the adult witch swerved round into the hallway. "Liz, what's wrong?!"

But Lizzie didn't answer, the teenager's voice lost to the palpitations hammering away in her ears. Tears blurred her vision as the pumping adrenaline willed Lizzie to dart up the stairs to the first floor, the worst case scenario already playing on her mind.