Magic isn't for everyone, especially those not permitted to learn it by the rotting carcass of the Titan
The first scene happens on the same day, but a few hours later
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Living a life under the heavy shadow of the Blight name usually came with more disadvantages than advantages, but there were a few benefits.
Polishing the Bonesborough library staff ID until it shone in the low light of the morning, she combed through her hand with her hand once more time, making sure everything was perfect.
After all, a Blight image should be as pristine as the sun in the sky and untainted by the dark below. Her mother's words, not hers.
That image, however, was becoming increasingly harder to maintain with the horrendous week she had, but thankfully, she could finally unwind by spending some time away from her family, even if it meant working at the public library. Which she got to enjoy because of her family's privilege , but she didn't let those nasty thoughts linger too much.
With a small smile on her and the sun in her hair, she moved forward, something in her bones asserting with certainty that today would be a good day.
Luz awoke without much fuss, eyelid opening with a large delay, sitting straight up on Eda's mildly comfortable couch, her senses scrambled for her a moment as she tried to realize where she was, the faded moonlight being her only companion in the darkened room.
A week had passed since the infamous Convention Incident as Eda had graciously decided to name it, and ever since then, Eda had finally caved in and begun teaching her magic.
On a lesser than stellar note, she had also gracefully managed to acquire another failure to her name by struggling to grasp even the most rudimentary aspects of magic Eda had tried to cram in her thick skull.
No matter how much effort she dedicated to learning, she failed miserably, with the only good thing coming out of this is that Eda had taken pity on her and allowed Willow and Gus to remain overnight, so bravo Luz Noceda.
Dismissing the lingering traces of sleep from her eyes and consciousness, the recollection of events that had transpired in the close past slowly reappeared before her.
They had been trying to convince Eda again to be allowed to perform the Moonlight Conjuring ritual that was set to occur on that night at the infamous Owl House, their pleas and bargaining all but resulting in a complete failure, Eda's decision unchanged even by the promise of cleaning the house from top to bottom for an entire month.
Luz personally failed to grasp the ritual's allure and what the buzz was about but both her...friends had shown great interest in the yearly event, and how could she possibly oppose them when they looked so happy at the prospect of holding it at Eda's "special" house.
It was the least she could do to reciprocate the generosity they showed by spending time with her despite her weirdness and flaws.
Although, once again, she must reiterate that inanimate things coming to life through the usage of a ritual was something she would not recommend. Luz had already witnessed enough times how everything goes south when you give mindless things conscious thoughts.
Too many black holes and singularities given life and in return, they enacted untold genocide on the alien life that had awakened them.
Moving on, after their catastrophic failure, Willow had decided to brighten the mood by showing Luz the most known games and activities kids on the Boiling aisle played to have some fun.
Which were indeed...fun? Or at the very least not boring at all, maybe a bit strange like the one where they would hunt fairies in the forest, and the one with the most caught will get the other fairies, receiving the privilege of baking the largest fairy pie all for themself.
Thankfully, they only got to play indoor activities and to her surprise, they had something similar to Twister from back home, although the color circles were replaced with magical circles which made the game one hundred times cooler in her humble opinion.
Speaking of being humble, not that she brags or anything but she cleared through each round of the game like it was nothing, winning every round due to her innate talent and skill she had been blessed with.
Definitely having nothing to do with the fact that her bones bend like churning liquid.
And sooner rather than later, the exhaustion of the day dawned on them, with Gus being the first victim to fall to its spindly finger, the boy falling head first on the couch and never once rising from it.
Luz wasn't all that tired but the idea of doing something else with Willow fell flat as the demon king of the house planted itself in her lap, trapping her without an escape in sight.
Turning her gaze toward Eda for help, she only received a laugh in return before the woman chugged a red liquid down her gullet and went upstairs without responding to her desperate but whispered cries.
Having no choice but to relegate herself to her fate, she curled deeper into the couch, letting the ball of fluff rest partly on her stomach and closing her eyes.
The small nap was almost instantaneous for her, one moment she was looking at the large window to her right, watching as the last rays of amber light, caught and refracted through a prism of liquid gold, pushing with their warm glow against the flickers of darkness in a tender dance of courting, and the next moment, the sun's rays where gone, leaving only the delicate moonlight to illuminate the darkness, uncaringly entering through the window on delicate legs.
Looking downward, she found King missing, his form resting on the wooden floor, a trail of drool dripping from his mouth.
With a cathartic exhale, Luz rose from the comfortable couch, draping one hand over her face, her forehead and hair soaked in sweat, but in the comfortable trance her nap had put her in, she didn't care.
Carefully stepping around the sleeping body of her friends, she swung open the wooden door, the sleeping face of Hooty greeting her like the grim reaper, albeit a very tired grim reaper.
As she let her legs guide her outside, the purple moon of the Boiling Isle welcomed her, and the distinct feeling of the cold grass beneath her feet brought a strange sense of pleasure. The moon radiated a low glow that seemed to make the world just a bit more alive, which could only mean the supposed optimal period to perform the ritual was in full swing, not that it really meant anything to her.
However, she did strangely hope Amity was having fun.
Inhaling the cool night air, the fresh scents of nature interlaced with the unknown odors brought by a whiff of wind, crashing against her nose in a pleasant and reinvigorating way.
Without thinking, under a bizarre but pleasant daze, she treads forward aimlessly, sensing each layer that constituted Eda's yard, from the rusty leaves scattered chaotically in the low breeze to the plant fibers sprouting from the barely-maintained but still fertile soil.
Reaching the edge of the clearing, the absence of the tall trees revealed the sprawling Boiling Isles, and even viewed from a distance, the metropolis was far from ordinary. She had been so caught in her troubles and trepidation, that she had yet to realize the shining beauty of the Boiling Isle, even if governed by a strange tyrant, if Eda's words were to be believed.
The plum sea waves crashed against the ivory sand of the beach situated beneath the husk of the Titan, breaking into scattered droplets that sparkled under the warm moonlight. Fishing boats and merchant ships were left vacant in the packed harbor, only some transporting goods brought back to the city, while some of them were left still in their carriage.
Broadening from the dock, broad and neatly organized roads branched out in every direction, particularly encircling the main hub of the largestโand really the only, International Trade and Logistics Center of the world, being the metaphorical heart of the Isle, and the crowning jewel of the empire that was comparable to a small county.
Towering administrative buildings and small to tall mansions of the richest witches and demons of the Isle surrounded a gaping crater from which the monumental fortress of the Emperor stretched upward, its roof similar to jagged spires reaching endlessly into the sky and piercing the heavens above.
The economically lower but still diverse neighborhood situated near the epicenter of the Isle was also nothing to scoff at, each street illuminated by flickering lanterns made of magic that burnished the dark and flooded the looming alleyways with a soothing light.
It was beautiful, in a way the tender dance of distant stars soon to meet their end could never be. More precious than watching as an infinitely hot and dense point inflates, stretches, and bloats, birthing time and space and all there can be.
It's a shame she never gets to experience something magical for too long, even in a world built upon magic.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she swallowed a shudder as she sensed her shadow stretching unending, carrying like a heavy fog the untold pain and suffering of worlds that never were, whispering of the misery and agony that may never be, of the love and beauty that never came to be.
Opening her eyes with a flutter, she ignored her twisting surroundings, focusing instead on the dawning ember of the sun in all its blinding glory, its fire barely peeking above the horizon and its surface seaming so tiny that she could almost hold it in her hands.
"If you stop deluding yourself, those feats could become reality in a blink of an eye."
The squirming of her shadow stopped for a moment, before something broke from its hold, crushing the verdant grass and decomposing the rich soil until it liquified into a viscous black paste as they walked.
She didn't respond for a moment, not wanting to eradicate her brightened mood, before finally, with a heavy sigh, she gave in to the temptation.
"Have you come here to bother me as usual or just to rub it in that I am completely incapable of even an ounce of magic, to push the knife deeper and bathe in the blood and sorrow that pours out?"
Despite wanting to lash out, she kept her hatred in check, too tired to argue with the Nightmare lurking behind her flesh and now behind her.
Because no matter the way she put it, the most fundamental aspect of the Boiling Isle, the very arcane energy that gave life to this little realm, was out of her reach.
Basic magic was understandable as she lacked the necessary bile sack of witches that carry the natural reservoir of magical power within them, but glyph magic? The magic even the most magic-innate demons can use?
Well, that was a bit outrageous in her opinion.
Even the simplest of them, the inoffensive light glyph that could be easily replaced by a light bulb, remained beyond her grasp.
Was it because no matter how many times she placed her finger on the yellow paper, nothing would happen? Or the fact that she couldn't see the symbol painted on the paper itself.
Did it matter what was the cause in the end?
"Do you believe it matters to us your inability to use the magic of a rotting husk? That you can't use some inconsequential sorcery to make small spheres of light?"
From the ever-changing form of the Hunter, something slithers forward outside of reality's tight perception, an appendage only recognizable by the sudden absence of the air drifting around like a silent intruder.
"Your true fault lies in your refusal to use our power."
' That was the goddamn reason I wanted to learn magic, to pry myself from your dreadful existence and influenc e' She refused to speak her thoughts though, for she knew her futile actions would only bring joy to the Nightmare.
The clearing began to brighten as a pale light radiated from before the Hunter, a perfectly circular orb forming in an insignificant burst of their power. The glow seemed to stall the air with decay, the pale light shining like the brightest night, and tasting of moonlight.
Then in a second flash, the sphere bloats and ruptures, sticky dark ichor spewing from its imaginary surface and onto the ground, infecting the rocks with the dreams of the deep that made them almost fust together into something that was quickly crushed by Luz's boot.
The orb reformed the next second into its original form, its form expanded slightly more and its surface was marred by ever-growing cracks of darkness.
The sick cycle of rebirth repeats over and over, pulling and stretching incessantly until the light sphere has been mutated into something akin to a stretched pyramid.
Like a daunting appolion, the "structure" surpasses the mountains surrounding the Boiling Isle, only the husk of the Titan barely managing to reach its height.
"Stop, what arโ"
A psychic scream rudely interrupts Luz.
One of the seven sides of the pyramid splintered, a long crack spreading from top to bottom like a twisted and sideway maw. In contrast with the crystalline light that had been warped around its uneven surface like a carapace that bubbled at irregular intervals, from the jagged gap, ancient darkness not too dissimilar to a growing tumor spew like a waterfall, tendrils of vapor and dusk reaching out from the sluglike mas.
"The pinnacle of light and darkness in all of Life's diminutive dominion, a god of dawn and dusk that could reach proportions beyond universes, and yet, here, in the First dream stripped from the naive incision of our first kin, it stands barely above mountains."
The now newly proclaimed god undulated as if arching its spine, millions of tendrils and unrecognizable limbs descending from the sky and rushing down to grab onto the livestock below, ratworms, griffins, and slitherbeasts before snatching them into the sky.
Some of them even go through the windows of a neighboring house, pulling a screaming child out with great force, tearing them from the terrified grasps of their parents, their hands and magic helpless to stop their bundle of joy from being dragged into the foaming maw.
"A world where the line between man and divinity blurs, where outer gods and unending monsters of the Abyss can barely muster the power to sunder mountains, an unsanctified tomb where even the three Monarchs, lords of the real and unreal, are bound and shackle with power so little. An interesting creation indeed."
Morality fell, and massacres occurred in every inch of the world, the mountains and rivers dyed in blood and darkness, the sea polluted with the tangled corpses feasted on forevermore by teeth of crystalline light.
"S-stop."
The abomination was merciless and horrendous, sparing neither man nor woman, young nor old, trampling upon their unmade graves, such was their slaughter, mocking the very concept of people like her friend trying to fight back.
She felt nausea building in her stomach, for what was worse than witnessing the massacre than feeling the emotion of the monster doing it?
For the supposed god of dawn and dusk, a merciless monster who devours hope and joy was weeping like a barely-born child.
Light and darkness from every realm and universe that formed creation, often romanticized by human literature to fit different roles, were at their core concept born from Life, forever loving the little creatures that inhabit Life's realm.
But those concepts had been mutated, mangled then fused by an unholy hand, and bathed in the hatred and madness of the Hunter.
Now forever doomed to hunt the very mortals they cherished with all their souls, forced to indulge in their blood like a man plagued by an unending thirst and coerced into partaking in the never-ending nightmare that coiled around it and the world like a ball of barbed wires.
"Then I'll stop it myself."
A nightmare she will indulge no more.
Biting her lip until blood flowed freely from the open wound, she extended her trembling hand forward, sensing the illusion cast by the Hunter that was slowly hemorrhaging into the real.
Her skin and flesh of her hand peeled off like a gelatinous paste placed under scorching pig iron as she curled her fingers and with a quick twist, the god dreamt no more.
Its pyramid-like shape coiled at circular angles with a sickening crunch, the light carapace vaporizing in the air and the darkness below turning to dust and the dust to nothingness and nothingness toPalesong
And in the next second, the massacred world dissipated like a bad dream, leaving only the serene and peaceful Island in its place, the grateful smile of the essence of light and darkness now free from the nightmare bringing more satisfaction to her than any tribute the Forest had ever offer.
She collapses a moment later, exhausted, yet unconsciously arching her back to make sure her head doesn't hit the ground.
She felt her heart pulsate in her ear, with each strain of breath the exhaustion sipping deeper into her flesh, only the scent of grass keeping her pulse in check.
Sluggishly, she turned her head toward the Hunter visage, her brown eyes meeting their verdant orbs, a bottomless and abysmal hatred reflecting through them like concave lenses. But there was something else there, a small string of something wrapped around a glimmer of amusement.
"Sometimes you can be quite hilarious, our warden, despite our many attempts to make you use our... special capabilities, you refuse no matter our effort."
With a sneer, the blank face splintered like glass, forming a jagged purple crack on their dark face as they smiled.
"And now, when the conclusion of our little play has been decided, and the ending is set in stone, you decide to finally give in? Quite a humorous warden indeed."
The sickly sound of popping spines resonated in the silent dawn of a new day, the shadow the Hunter puppeteer leaning downward until their face hovered just inches above Luz.
An unrecognizable scent sipped between the jagged crack that poorly imitated a maw that widened by the second, making her nose bleed and quivering eyes shake as she tasted the ichor of hemorrhaging stars boiling and churning away outside the realm of understanding.
"If this is your choice, we accept."
With a sudden reorientation of the real, they draw their head back, shaking as if agreeing to some unknown terms.
"Now that the stakes are gone, it's about time we start to have some fun, after all, there is no joy to be had in a contest where the warden doesn't join the prisoner's game."
She could have asked what the game that they kept mentioning or the more and more apparent wretched imitation of humanity the Hunter had shown her ever since she arrived in this new realm.
But at this moment, there was only one question to ask.
"What are you going to do?"
And the Nightmare only laughed in response.
A roar of laughter, full of brutal dismissal, no different than that of an instructor hearing his dumbest student ask about the most obvious concept.
"Listen close lying corpse of Luz Noceda, when the festival of fear comes around, the line between the real and the Abyss will be blurred. And under the silent glow of a pale moon, We shall walk on this land, be it by vessel or our true self."
Their delivery was more similar to a roar than to a daunting declaration, as dozens of pearly white antlers began to sprout from their scalp, curling around until they almost formed something akin to a crown. Their voice filtered in heavy static as the shadow that infested creation scrambled in fear of their master's wrath.
"Luz, what in Titan names are you doing outside at this ungodly hour?"
She turned her head around with enough speed to almost give herself a concussion, the sight of Eda making her almost throw up.
The witch, oblivious to anything, took several steps forward but was forced to stop as a white claw grabbed onto her shoulder and pulled her back.
The great owl aligned its body before the witch, its four sets of silvery wings flared so they overlapped with Eda's vision, blocking any fleeting influence that might have wormed inside Eda's mind.
It was a naive act, one born from irrational compassion shared toward the strange life companion the Owl beast got herself stuck to. She knew that it was stupid, after all, to break under the Nightmare's madness and be reborn from splitting shards that remained was a trial the other two successors of the three Monarchs had long since passed.
But Behemoth was a selfish creature, one that had fought in the War in Heaven that predates the eight Nightmares, standing victorious before creatures from the Forest domain that would make present-day patrons of gods from the abyss look like unruly children.
She was an old and tired creature who had stood alongside the Monarchs of Dawn and Equilibrium, alongside the endless army of Life, and was there as her army and companions tasted utter defeat at the hands of the First Monarch of the Abyss, the last primordial devil who had stood victorious and undefeated over the bodies of the Life Kingdom mightiest battalion.
Watched as her people, her soldiers, the Monarch of Dawn, and her dear brother shattered under the unholy Roar of Finality and its singers
So she chose to be selfish, to protect even if just for a few more precious moments Eda from the atrocities of the cosmos, it was the least she could offer to her unchosen partner.
Behemoth turned her gaze on Luz, amber, silver, and purple eyes focused entirely on her, too fearful and pathetic to gaze at the horrendous monster behind her, Eda's nagging yet pleasant voice eclipsed for a moment as they spoke through a chorus of silent throats.
"And bring forth the End,
of the sane world of man ."
...๐๐ต ๐ช๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ช๐ณ ๐จ๐ช๐ง๐ต๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ต๐ณ๐ถ๐ญ๐บ ๐ฎ๐ข๐ณ๐ฌ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ช๐ณ ๐ฆ๐ง๐ง๐ฆ๐ค๐ต ๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐๐ฃ๐บ๐ด๐ด ๐ด๐ช๐ฎ๐ถ๐ญ๐ต๐ข๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ด๐ญ๐บ. ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ช๐ณ ๐จ๐ช๐ง๐ต๐ด ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ฃ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฏ๐ต ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ฏ๐ถ๐ฎ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ณ, ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ถ๐ณ๐ด๐ฆ๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ฏ ๐ข๐ฏ๐บ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ, ๐บ๐ฆ๐ต ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ถ๐ญ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ณ๐ถ๐ญ๐บ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ต๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ญ๐บ ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ฉ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ค๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ด ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐๐ฆ๐ข๐ด๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฎ, ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ฐ๐จ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ช๐ต๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ-๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฅ-๐ด๐ฐ๐ข๐ฌ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฏ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต๐ฎ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ.
๐๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐บ ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐๐ถ๐จ๐จ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐๐ข๐ธ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ด ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ง๐ถ๐ต๐ถ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐บ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ข ๐ธ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐๐ฐ๐ฏ๐จ, ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐๐ญ๐ฃ๐ข๐ง๐ญ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ง๐ช๐ฏ๐ช๐ด, ๐ง๐ญ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด ๐ฅ๐ณ๐ข๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ข๐ค๐ณ๐ฐ๐ด๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฉ๐ถ๐ด๐ฌ๐ด ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐จ๐ฐ๐ฅ๐ด, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐๐ช๐ณ๐ด๐ต ๐ฅ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฎ, ๐ต๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฃ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต๐ฎ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ๐ด.
๐ถโ๐๐๐ก๐๐ โ :๐๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต๐ฎ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ๐ดโ๐๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ด ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐๐ฐ๐ฏ๐จ
-๐๐ง๐ ๐จ๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ซ๐๐๐จ๐ซ๐๐ฌ ๐ฅ๐๐๐ญ ๐๐๐ก๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐ฒ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐จ๐ง๐๐ซ๐๐ก ๐จ๐ ๐๐ช๐ฎ๐ข๐ฅ๐ข๐๐ซ๐ข๐ฎ๐ฆ
Notes:
I am back as always from death with a new chapter at my side.
First and foremost, the part about the main universe in My Bones Can Scream takes place(both human and witch since they are linked) being the creation of the First Nightmare isn't important lore-wise at the moment at all but what is important is the fact that the reason gods of the Abyss, other deities, and monsters are so 'nerfed' in here.
Also, just a small tip, don't always believe the Hunter 'dream' and illusions at face value, not because they couldn't be real( they absolutely could) but because they mostly ignore variables like Belos and even Eda who would have won against the god of dawn and dusk, the foremost actually quite easily.
Coming next(like actually being released), "Lost in Language" and it's about time things got more interesting.