Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance

by Jarl of the North

We all know the story. The Witches held a nigh unbreakable sway over the world, abusing their magical powers with reckless abandon until the Grim Reaper led a war upon them with humanity, breaking their hold and defeating their evil... but, perhaps, the tale is not so clear cut as the history books say. This is the story of a Death Scythe's daughters, and the people they love.

35. Faltering Footing, Gaining Ground

Sorry for the delay on this chapter, everyone. I'd hoped to have this out nearly two months ago, but... well, you know how it goes. Especially with how things are going all over the place, for a lot of people.

But you're not here to talk about any of that. You're here to read a story! And a story, I am here to provide. I hope you enjoy!

I do not own Soul Eater or the Owl House.

If I did, I might be able to get paid for this.

---

Perhaps Eda's favourite thing about living on the Bicep, so close to Bonesborough, was the way the sunrise lingered.

Regardless of the season, some part of the Boiling Isles was caught in the shadow of the Knee as the sun crested the horizon. In the summer months, the shadow was cast further along the right arm, contributing to the more temperate climate that allowed the towering fungi to flourish in forests across the forearm. In the autumn, the shadow drew closer to the shoulder, causing the deltoid deltas to freeze and the mouths of the rivers to steam even more furiously than usual, sending thick plumes of fog up and down the coasts earlier than nearly anywhere else on the Isles. In the winter, its shadow drew across the Head of the Titan, contributing both to the icy slopes of the Clavicle, and to the often brutal ash and snow falls experienced by much of the torso. Indeed, in the winter, the interior and northern shores of the torso barely saw the sun for more than four hours, interspersed by the Ribs, before it disappeared behind the Head, leading to long months that prompted entire cities to burrow underground in search of the Titan's warmth rather than suffer the ice and snow.

With the exception of those winter months, this particular clearing at the edge of the cliff was in the Knee's morning shadow year-round; not only did the sun fail to penetrate the windows any earlier than halfway through the second quarter, the sunrise itself seemed lengthened by the looming mountain. The early pinks and oranges of the sky slowly drew themselves up the Titan's gargantuan limb, vibrant as ever even as the sunrise had already finished at the Ankle Archipelago. Even once the sky had taken on its usual brilliant gold, the sun had only just reached the peak of the mountain, bathing her abode in sunlight for the first time that morning.

Normally, this would have been her cue to wake up, barring some emergency, ritual or business.

"Eda!"

However, the Witch would not have missed this for the world.

"Yes, Luz?" she asked languidly, unable to keep the smile from her face at the sound of her apprentice's distress as she closed the front door behind her, idly swirling her coffee.

Luz was the very picture of misery as she stomped up to the door, staring up at her teacher; her eyes were wide as she pointed to the other end of the clearing, her voice a high whine, "I've been running this stupid test for over an hour now!"

As if on cue, there was a loud, conch-like blast that echoed across the clearing; an old speaker-box that Eda had scrounged out of the basement had been set on a stone in the middle of the glade, and barked out monotone numbers roughly once every minute. A small tree had been grown at each end of the uneven ground and stone, marking out a rough cordon in which the girl had been jogging back and forth, roughly twenty meters in length. King was all but dragging himself behind Luz, gasping for breath as he crawled up behind her, clinging to her leg and pulling himself back to his feet, which wobbled, threatening to give out beneath his negligible weight.

"Can we please move onto the next thing, now?" the human pleaded desperately, clasping both hands together in front of her chest.

The Witch made an exaggerated show of scratching her chin, "This is your… fourth set with the test?"

"Fifth," Luz's voice cracked.

"Five... times," King wheezed, weakly flailing with a paw to get the Witch's attention, shouting up at her between breaths, "Why… why am I doing this!?"

"Because I'm teaching Luz anyways, and because you've shown basically zero initiative in learning any sort of Soul Wavelength manipulation or Magic for yourself," the silver owl stated flatly, taking another sip of coffee, "So, I'm taking the opportunity to at least make you practice, even if you don't want to learn."

"Weh…" he whimpered, slumping back down against Luz's leg.

"As for you, Luz…" a deliberate pause, "I told you to run until you either got tired or failed to keep up with the test."

"But I've cleared it four times!" she protested.

"And are you tired?" Eda cocked an eyebrow.

She could already tell that Luz was far from exhausted; the human wasn't even breathing hard, and was clearly only asking to move on because she was getting frustrated with the exercise. And yet, the fact remained that she hadn't yet clued into the exercise's purpose - which told Eda everything she needed to know about the girl's current progress as she bit her lip, chocolate eyes breaking away and dipping to the ground.

"... no," the mocha child managed reluctantly.

"Then get back to it, Luz." the Witch leaned against the stonework with a smile, "I told you to keep running until you either drop or you fail. Now reset the test and start over."

"... there's gotta be somethin' else to this," Luz muttered under her breath, leaning down to pick up King before going back to the trees and the speakers. As the monotone voice rattled off its explanation of the 'pacer test,' the human set the Demon down, and returned to the end of the twenty meter track, bouncing back and forth between her heels and her toes.

"... she's been running that for a while now," Hooty stretched himself out from the door, glancing back and forth between Eda and her apprentice.

"Mmhm," another sip of her coffee, pleasantly hot on the lips and strong on the tongue.

"... don't'cha think you should tell her?" the tubular creature tilted his head, "This is starting to get a little… mean."

"Give 'er a minute, Hooty," she watched Luz's back, expectant, "She'll figure it out."

At the first horn, Luz began her jog forwards, her pace relatively slow, King struggling to keep up with her between his gasps for breath.

Then back.

Then forwards.

Then back.

Then forwards.

Then back again, her expression increasingly pensive.

Then the horn sounded twice. Their pace increased.

Forwards.

Back.

Forwards.

On the way back, though, King tripped. He fell hard on his chin, causing the girl to come to a halt. Luz trotted back to him, slipping her hands under his arms and pulling him to his feet, expression sympathetic as she dusted him off. Eda couldn't quite hear what they were saying from here, but she didn't need to.

After all, it only took a couple of words for her student to go stock still, eyes wide and pupils shrinking to pinpricks.

"... and there she goes," the woman chuckled as Luz sprinted back over, King tucked under one arm.

"Eda!" the youth's tone had changed entirely, practically brimming with the joy that came from a new discovery.

"Yes, Luz?" the vixen made a show of seeming deliberately more interested in her coffee, swirling it in her mug.

"I've been running for over an hour!" the sheer excitement in Luz's voice was almost immeasurable.

"More like an hour and a half, but who's counting?" Eda closed her eyes, taking a larger sip of her drink as it finally started to cool; it wouldn't taste any good if it lost too much heat, even with the apple blood mixed in.

"And I'm not tired!" the girl was practically bouncing off her toes, her smile so wide it almost threatened to tear her cheeks.

"Finally clicked, eh?" the pale woman grinned, finally letting her eyes drift down to her student.

"I'm not even breathing hard!" Luz set King down before holding her hand to her chest, trying to feel her own heartbeat, "My gym teacher used to throw this stupid test at the whole class and I had a hard time hitting eight! Now-Now I'm doing the whole thing and it's not even winding me!"

"... yippee… for… you…" the diminutive demon wheezed, staying on his feet for a total of five seconds before dramatically flopping onto his front, his voice a weak gurgle.

"That's what Soul Wavelength does to you, kid," Eda chuckled, "With your Soul Wavelength bolstering your body, your strength and endurance have increased well beyond what you'd be able to do normally. That's twenty minutes per run, and by the end of each one you're going at least twenty kilometers an hour."

"That fast?" the girl blinked, a new realization shooting through her all over again, "But I'm not actually running until the very end!"

"Is it making you sprint?"

"No!" Luz threw her arms in the air, "Not even close!"

"Explains why you're not tired yet; you're not being forced to put in any real effort until you're almost finished, and even then it's not doing so long enough to actually challenge you in any meaningful way," her golden eyes fluttered closed, "Which means, we need to move onto something both more difficult, and more engaging."

"Like what?"

"Well, first and foremost, we need to get an idea of your current limits," the Witch turned away, beckoning for her student to follow as she strode around the side of the house, "Strength, speed, stamina. They'll give us a baseline for your physical training."

"Okay, but… like what?" Luz scooped the Demon off the ground before obediently trailing after her mentor, "You're gonna have me lift weights until we find something I can't lift?"

"Among other things."

"Like whaaaat?" the girl pestered, circling around Eda, all but jogging backwards to keep pace and nearly tripping over a stray stone.

"You'll see," the Owl's lips parted in another smile, "Just be patient, Luz."

The human's lip stuck out in a pout, brow curling as she clutched King tighter to her chest like a toy, the motion somewhere between playful and petulant. She opened her mouth, clearly ready to pester her teacher until she got a clearer answer-

Only to be cut off by a sound Eda only distantly recognized as music.

It was like someone had strapped a lute down and subjected it to a stretching rack, lightning currents, and waterboarding all at the same time; the sound of the strings was too heavy and too high pitched, the drums that accompanied them lacking weight and depth, the instrument that played beneath them doing little more than setting the frenetic pace. It wasn't the first time Eda had heard this particular 'song,' if one could really call it that - Luz had spent more than a couple of hours simply pacing, box held up to her ear as that jumbled concoction of noise played - but that didn't make the cacophony any more pleasant on the ears.

For her part, Luz was startled out of her excitement almost entirely, digging for the box and staring at the glass. Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip, glancing back and forth between her mentor and the box…

"... someone lookin' for you, Luz?" the Witch ventured.

"... my Dad," she spat out a piece of dead skin, wincing slightly as she studied the tiny window, "He, uh… he wants to talk to you?..."

"... you told him about me?" Eda let an eyebrow climb its way up her forehead.

"Not that you're a Witch," Luz shook her head, looking up again, "I just… kinda… told him you're my cabin councillor?"

"For that… Camp thing?" King perked up slightly under Luz's arm.

"Yeah, Camp Reality Check," Luz wrung her hand around her device, lips twisting as she met Eda's eyes again, "I… I had to tell him something…"

The elder Owl merely hummed, "What's he wanna talk to me about?"

"My Soul Wavelength," the younger magus managed, "He knows I've unlocked it."

"And that's all you've told him?"

"Yeah. I mean, I told him you're named Eda, but-"

"Have you used the name 'Clawthorne'?"

At this, Luz blinked, "No?"

"You're sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"Good. That makes this easier," she gestured to the box, "Go on."

Luz only waited a second longer before letting out a breath, swiping a finger across the glass and holding it up to her ear, "Hey, Papi."

"Luz," Eda's ears twitched at the voice that responded, "¿Cómo estás? ¿Estás Bien?"

"Si, Papi," Luz bobbed her head, once again breaking out in a smile, "Estoy bien."

"Me alegra escucharlo," it was an oddly pitched voice, a higher register that the silver vixen hadn't been expecting. A very slight growl was omnipresent in its otherwise cheerful cadence, although it was underlined by a more hesitant, serious note that grew more prominent as he spoke, "Is Miss Eda with you?"

The girl's eyes snapped up to her mentor; it wasn't until Eda gave a nod that she answered, "Yeah, she is."

"Is this a good time for me to speak with her? I'm not interrupting any camp activities, am I?"

This time, the Witch didn't wait. She simply held out her hand, expectant, a smirk crossing her lips as Luz wordlessly handed over her box; lazily, she held it up to her ear, mimicking Luz's earlier posture, "Eh, nothing that can't wait ten minutes."

"... you're Luz's councilor, I presume? Miss Eda?" the man spoke, pitch somewhat off-kilter, clearly taken aback by the sudden change in voices.

"Speaking," Eda declared, "You Luz's pops?"

"That's right," to his credit, the man quickly recovered, his words taking a more cheerful tone, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Eda…?"

"Marylin," she conjured the old alias as easily as if it had always been her name.

"Eda Marylin?" she could hear the smile in his voice now, "That's an unusual name."

"I'm an unusual woman," the Witch bounced the smile back, even if it was one born of entirely different reasons.

"Miss Marylin, then," he continued, seeming satisfied with the alias.

"Just Eda is fine," the Owl bit down on her usual sarcasm, idly inspecting her nails as she spoke, "You're not exactly addressing the Queen of England here - I live in the middle of the woods."

"Fair enough. I don't really like being formal all that much either," she heard him clear his throat, adjusting his tone, "My name is Spirit Albarn. I'm Luz's father. Like I was saying, it's a pleasure to meet you, and I'm sorry it can't be face to face. Though I do have to ask - you know what I'm calling about, right?"

"This about all the property damage Luz caused?" the elder magus asked, "Windows, walls, furniture, flooring?"

She couldn't help the mischievous grin that split her face in two as Luz choked, staring up at her with wide eyes and open mouth, expression utterly betrayed as she splayed her hands upwards, ready to shriek in outrage at being blamed for everything that the Owlbeast had caused.

But despite the clear wince in Spirit's tone, he seemed utterly unsurprised by the list Eda'd rattled off the top of her head, "And the cutlery. And whatever glasses you might have given her. I bet she's molded the knives and forks like Play-doh…"

"Oh, plenty of that, too - she's had to eat most of her food with her hands," the Owl Lady lied as easily as breathing; any Witch worth their salt would never have cups and cutlery so fragile that a child that just awoke their Soul Wavelength could break them, but it helped to sell the illusion they needed Luz's father to believe, and the look on Luz's face was only growing increasingly hilarious, "Your kid's a strong one, Spirit. In more ways than one. She's got more heart than any other brat her age that I've seen."

"I'm glad to hear you think so," there was no small amount of pride or relief in the man's voice, though he never allowed himself to slip fully into the proud father he so desperately wanted to let himself be. Instead, he pushed onwards, "I'm with the DWMA - you know, Death Weapon Meister Academy?"

The red-clad Witch idly waved a hand, dismissive, "I've heard of you."

"Had to make sure. Anyways, I'm with the DWMA, and to be perfectly honest, I am calling to salvage a little bit of a family disaster. I'm sure Luz's new destructive tendencies are… rather out of the blue; she's said she told you the cause already?"

"Yeah, her Soul Wavelength," Eda nodded, continuing to weave her web of lies, "I'm not gonna pretend I understood the whole explanation she gave me, but it certainly explained a lot. I can't really blame her for wanting to do well by her folks, personally."

"As glad as that makes me, I'm not exactly supposed to let this slide," he continued, "You see, outside of… extraordinary circumstances, the study of Soul Wavelength is supposed to stay within the confines of the DWMA. Luz is part of a family with a lot of DWMA members, but strictly speaking isn't part of the DWMA herself. She isn't supposed to have access to her Soul Wavelength, as things stand."

"Broke the rules tryin' ta make you proud, eh?"

"Yes. And as proud as I am of her, this could… get her into a lot of trouble if it gets out."

"So you want me to help protect your daughter?"

"Yes. There are some legal loopholes I'm looking to exploit in order to keep her out of trouble. But it is contingent on Luz eventually being brought into the DWMA, which is not likely to be possible for… at least four more years."

An idle spin of her staff, the grain of the wood soothing in her palm, "So, what do you intend to do in the meantime?"

"For now, I'm just trying to keep Luz out of trouble. And for that, I'm going to need your help," Spirit sighed, a note of shame entering his voice, "To be blunt, Eda, what I am offering you is a bribe for your silence about Luz's Soul Wavelength."

"... I appreciate your honesty," the one woman parliament had to wrestle with the urge to simply take the fool for all he was worth - clearly, he'd never done this sort of thing before, and was on the verge of opening Pandora's Box trying to protect his daughter.

He was lucky the Witch had her own reasons to protect the girl; all this was for Luz's benefit, after all.

"First and foremost, I will personally reimburse any and all damages that Luz has caused, accidentally or otherwise. Second-"

"Alright I'm gonna stop you riiiiight there," Eda interrupted, raising a finger, "You don't need to offer me anything."

"... I… I'm sorry?" his former formality was replaced entirely by genuine perplexion and shock, completely thrown off kilter by her reaction.

"Spirit. I'm only gonna say this once: I like your daughter," she reached out, ruffling Luz's hair with her free hand, "She's fun, she's intelligent, and she's determined. Probably the brightest kid I've ever had the pleasure of teaching. And it's not like she's broken anything that can't be fixed; frankly, I was expecting the damage to be worse, even without her Soul Wavelength. I want her to succeed, and from the sound of it, that's not gonna happen if I tell anyone what she's been up to.

"Besides," she cocked her head, grinning again, "You bribe me, that's one more crime to sweep under the rug, isn't it? Wouldn't you rather keep the slate as clean as you can for her?"

"... that… that's very kind of you, Eda. But… that's a big personal risk you're taking, for… virtually no reward."

"All due respect, pal - I'm no snitch," the Witch stated evenly, pulling her hand back and deliberately not meeting her apprentice's eyes as the girl beamed up at her with utterly unbridled joy, "You already said you've got a potential workaround, right?"

"... I do. But Luz might not be allowed to join the DWMA until-"

"Then all I have to do is keep my mouth shut until she does," she cut her student's father off once more, "Again, I'm no snitch, Spirit. I'm not gonna sell either of you up the river. Especially when I wouldn't even get paid for it."

"... thanks for the assurance," Spirit muttered, tone somewhat sour, but undeniably amused, "Had your own run-ins with the wrong end of the law?"

"That's for me to know," Eda snickered, "I think everyone's entitled to one felonious secret in their lifetime. Don't you?"

"Depends on the felony," the man chuckled, seeming to recover his composure, "Although I admit that the prospect doesn't inspire confidence."

"Well, if it helps, I haven't told anyone else about it," the Owl Lady noted, "The damage Luz has done is pretty in line with what I'd expect from anyone else her age. It's nothing that can't be written off as sports, roughhousing or a couple arts projects that got out of hand."

"I was about to ask, actually. I appreciate your silence so far."

"It's an easy enough secret to keep," the Magus finally sighed, "Look. The only thing telling anybody about this will bring me is trouble, and not the fun kind of trouble. It'll bring the kind of trouble that involves more paperwork and interviews than I'm willing to tolerate. I like my privacy, Spirit - and I'm not going to sacrifice it for five minutes of unwanted fame or some nonsense moral obligation. If anything, your bribe is already more attention than I'd have liked."

For a long moment, silence fell between the Owl Lady and the father. He seemed to be debating to himself, and she could almost see the way he pursed his lips, "... so. Peace is its own reward in your eyes?"

"I don't need any more incentive than that," Eda agreed.

"... if only everyone else was as reasonable as you, Miss Marylin," he seemed relieved, and the Witch knew she had him right where she wanted him.

"Don't flatter me, Spirit," she chuckled, "You've just caught me on a good day."

"You say that. I'm not convinced it's true."

"Don't push your luck," the vixen sobered, "Is that everything you wanted to talk about?"

"Just one last thing," the hapless tool's tone turned almost pleading, "... don't let Luz beat all the other kids by a country mile."

Eda quirked an eyebrow, "You don't want her to take home the gold?"

"Oh, I want her to take home the gold - you won't see me complaining about that," Spirit amended, his words nothing short of insufferably smug, "Just don't let her beat them too badly. It'll raise too much suspicion if she's crushing everyone else. Besides, the sooner she learns restraint with her Wavelength, the better."

"True," the silver-haired Witch mused, "I'll make sure she doesn't completely break their spirits. Just a little."

"Thank you. That's all I wanted to talk to you about."

"Good. Keeps this simple."

"Pass me back to Luz, please?"

"Sure thing. Take care, Spirit."

"You too, Eda."

With that, the Witch passed the box back to Luz.

The child half grinned, half glared at the one woman parliament as she took the mechanical scroll back. She pressed a hand to the bottom as she halfheartedly snapped, unable to hide the burbling glee in her voice at her mentor's praise, "You didn't have to throw me under the bus!"

"Ha! I have no idea what you're talking about," Eda laughed, stepping past as she took another sip of her coffee, "You're lucky I'm so good at Magic, Luz. Otherwise, you'd have to clean up your own mess."

Whatever curses Luz had in mind were cut off as Spirit's call reached her ears; obediently, the girl raised the box to her ear once more to finish their commune, allowing Eda to revel in the small victory as she led the human out into the woods…

---

… and away from the hospital wing''s reception room.

"You're sure you're doing okay, Luz?"

"I'm sure, Dad. I'm much, much better than I was last night."

Spirit idly ran his free hand through his hair, shuddering at how greasy it felt - had it really been that long since he last had a shower? - but felt his smile widen at his daughter's words, "Feel like you've made some progress?"

"I do, actually," the Death Scythe could hear the smile in his daughter's voice, "It's… kinda funny, actually - I feel like I've taken a step towards something I really wanna do."

"I'm glad," the redhead let his free hand fall to his pocket, gently tousling the hair of the Luz doll, "Any chance I could get you to tell me what Miss Eda's been having you doing?"

"Beep Test."

"Ugh," he felt his face scrunch as if he'd licked a lemon, "That stupid thing?"

"Believe it or not, it actually wasn't that bad this time! I completed the whole thing!"

"Soul Wavelength'll do that," he grinned, "Just try to keep it dialled down a few notches, okay? You're much stronger than the other kids now, and I don't think you understand just how much stronger you are - that means you'll have to be careful not to hurt anybody."

"Lo se, Papi. I won't hurt anyone - I promise."

"¿Supongo que aún no has podido contárselo a tu madre?"

"Todavía no. Anoche no pude animarme a hacerlo, y ahora…"

"Gotcha," Spirit bobbed his head, lips pursed, "... just don't take too long, okay? The sooner Camila knows about this, the less angry she's going to be."

"... I know. It's just… she doesn't want me to go, and… wants…" he heard his daughter take a breath, "It's… hard. She doesn't want what I want."

"Lo se, Luz. ("I know, Luz.") But it's only gonna get harder if you let it sit."

"... yeah…"

"... should I let you go?" the pale Scythe asked, sensing Luz's mounting discomfort at the prospect, "Let you and Eda get back to your activities for the day?"

"... yeah, probably. She's leading me somewhere now, and I gotta keep up - these woods are thick."

"Alright. I'll talk to you later, then," Spirit brought his hand up to his brow in a mock salute, "Te amo, Luz."

"Te amo, Papi. Adíos."

With that, the phone went silent.

He stuffed it back into his pocket, letting out a sigh of abject relief; the Death Scythe hadn't anticipated that conversation to go that smoothly. If anything, he'd expected to have to explain the sheer amount of property damage that all children with their Soul Wavelengths newly unlocked caused. Their grip strength shattered glass and twisted metal, but left nary a mark on the skin; a frustrated kick could shatter furniture and smash brickwork without so much as a bruise.

And yet, Eda hadn't seemed phased. She'd taken Luz, and everything Spirit had to say, entirely in stride. She'd even seemed amused by it, waving off his concerns about property damage as if it had been entirely within what she'd been prepared for - which admittedly raised questions about how much damage the camp had suffered over the years dealing with kids, but thinking back to his own summer camp days…

"... boys will be boys, I guess," the Death Scythe shrugged, smiling at the memory of his first partial transformation into a Weapon at summer camp - that canoe had been an expensive fix.

Finally, he came to a stop in front of the door; he felt himself sober, smile fading somewhat as he stared at the handle, "... speaking of…"

The redhead only paused for a moment, straining his ears for the telltale indistinct chatter of voices beyond the wood paneling; slowly, he reached, and turned the doorknob, trying to keep the noise to a minimum as he slipped in through the door.

"-good idea to be doing this?" a familiar, high voice asked - a small black cat with a Witch's hat perched on Maka's shoulder, "I thought you said it hurt to even move."

The sharp, painful intake of breath was the main response Soul offered as he squeezed the finger weights in his hands; he was propped up in the bed, the mattress keeping him in a sitting position as he did his best to work his arms and legs. He grunted, his face taut with the pain he was obviously still in, "It does. Not as bad as yesterday, but it still hurts like Hell."

"Then why are you doing it?" Blair pestered, hopping over to the bedside table, "Don't you think you're making it worse?"

"Stein's orders," the younger Scythe huffed, releasing his grip on the weights before squeezing again, pulling his forearms up as if he were doing bicep curls, "He wants me doing light physio - something about my bone density. I don't really get it, but… if this'll help…"

This time, the cat did not respond - nor, notably, did Maka, who watched on in silence as her Weapon partner forced himself to exercise, lips pursed and eyes half lidded. Her hands were folded in her lap, idly wringing her fingers together.

Finally, Soul cracked a smile, glancing at his Meister with a slight note of amusement, "Besides, I'm tired of losing wrestling matches to a blanket."

At this, Maka let out a snort, doing her best to choke down on the laugh before it escaped, though she couldn't stop the smile that spread halfway across her face, "... I don't see what difference it makes. You throw matches with your blanket at home all the time."

"That's when napping and sleeping in is a privilege, Maka," the albino boy snickered, "Here, I've got nothing to do but nap and sleep in."

"I guess even the chronically lazy want a change in routine at some point," the smile on his daughter's face continued to spread, "Even if that means putting in some effort."

"Hey, that's uncalled for, Maka," Soul grinned, "I just know how to relax. You should try it sometime."

"And lose my straight As? No thanks."

"Workaholic."

"Lazy bum."

… for a moment, Spirit was tempted to simply turn around, and leave the room. It was good to see that both his daughter and her partner were beginning to regain some of their former energy, even if it was a far cry from their normal back and forth. Whatever resentments he might have had for Soul - and they were resentments, as hard as it was for the Death Scythe to admit - he was glad to see that things were improving.

But, he was here for a reason. No matter how well things were going now, he had a job to do.

This in mind, the redhead cleared his throat, giving his best smile as the trio snapped their attention to him, "Well… you all seem to be doing a little better?"

"Spirit!" Blair's lips curled with cheer; in an instant, she'd leapt right off of the bedside table, soaring across the room in a single bound, coming to land on the Death Scythe's shoulder without so much as a single snag in his suit. She rubbed her forehead against his temple affectionately, somehow never dislodging her hat, "It's good to see you again!"

"Blair," Spirit acknowledged, raising a hand to scritch her behind the ears, "Good to see you."

"You holding up okay?" the Magical cat pulled back, tilting her head, "Haven't seen you around lately."

"Just been busy," the redhead shrugged, "Haven't really had a chance to swing by."

"As long as you're doing alright, you don't have to explain anything," the dark-furred feline purred.

"... of course you two know each other," Maka muttered, the already limited joy she had managed to muster replaced with venom as she shot a glare to the corner of the room.

"We've met," the kitten hopped back down, transforming back into her humanoid form; she stretched, arms raising high above her head before she settled back into a sitting position, seeming entirely at ease with letting herself float rather than grab herself a chair. She gave the grey-haired youth a sympathetic look, lips curling down, "Really, Maka, it's nothing to worry about. It's just-"

"Work-related?" the Meister glowered at Blair, then at Spirit; the sheer malice in her eyes, in the furrow of her brow, the purse of her lips and the set of her shoulders, the way her hands clenched around her elbows sent his heart plummeting through the base of his stomach, a horribly familiar drop into the same pit of despair that he'd felt the day she had first given him that look of utter disgust. She snorted, seeming to be resisting the urge to spit as she turned away, "Yeah. I gathered. That bar is the only way you two would have met."

Whatever else the humanoid feline was going to say died in her throat. She opened her mouth, helplessly working her jaw as she tried to speak, only to utter silence. For a moment, Spirit wrestled with the urge to reach out and place a hand of comfort on her shoulder, and to just keep them to himself for Maka's sake, unable to quite decide which impulse he should follow.

The only ones who didn't seem shocked were Soul, who watched on with a guarded, but decidedly pitying expression, eyes slipping back and forth between his partner and their housemate, and Maka herself. The younger Albarn was still glaring into the corner of the room, refusing to meet anyone's gaze, even her partner's, though whether it was out of rage, shame, or both, Spirit couldn't tell.

Finally, he had to settle for clearing his throat, trying to keep the hurt from bleeding into his voice, "... I, uh… hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"... what do you think?" Maka muttered, crossing her arms and pursing her lips, as if doing so would pinch her mouth closed.

"... we're hangin' out," Soul breathed, closing his eyes and setting the finger weights down. He took a breath as he twisted as best he could to face the redhead, "'Sup, Death Scythe?"

"Checking in, mostly," the elder Scythe cleared his throat again, trying to bring some ease back to his tone, "I was a little late to catch any of you last night. Maka, you had already gone home, and Soul… when I checked on you, it looked like you'd already fallen asleep again."

"Well, now you've checked in," his daughter huffed, finally meeting his gaze again, the withering stare as sharp as the words that pierced him, "You can go now."

"... I'm better than I was," the albino Weapon stretched out his arms, jaw setting with the effort; at the very least, he seemed willing to humour the Death Scythe, "Still hurts. But at least I can move a little."

"Well enough to feed yourself?" Spirit asked as he finally noted the bowl on the nightstand, empty save for what looked like a slight drizzling of gravy.

"I wanted to try," Soul smirked, turning his gaze back up at his partner, "But Maka wouldn't let me."

At this, Maka's lips twisted, caught halfway between a smile and a grimace of her own as she closed her eyes, turning her nose up and tightening her grip on her arms, "I don't want you hurting yourself."

"Doesn't look like hospital food," the redhead noted idly.

"That's because it's not," Blair raised a manicured nail with a wink, some of her former cheer returning, "I made stew last night."

"You call it 'stew,' I call it 'actual fucking heaven in my mouth.'"

"Soul," the Cat, the Meister, and the Death Scythe simultaneously scolded, glaring.

"What?" he raised his hands as best he could in surrender, "I haven't had anything in my stomach in over a week! I never knew beef stock and potatoes could taste so good!"

"I appreciate the compliment, Soul," the Magical cat snapped her fingers; a flash of pink-orange light conjured a bar of soap into being, a tiny orange jack-o'lantern immediately encircled by long, slender fingers, Blair's smile threateningly crooked, "But don't think it'll stop me from washing your mouth out with soap."

"And don't think I won't help her," Maka's own lips quirked, the genuine mischief in her tone sending Spirit's spirit soaring.

"Christ, you two!" the younger Scythe recoiled, "It was one swear!"

"Which is why we're letting you off with a warning," Blair chirped, making the soap vanish with a flourish.

Again, Spirit found himself clearing his throat, calling attention back to himself as he sobered, "Well, I'm glad to see you're both… a little better. But there's actually something I need to talk to you about, Maka, Soul."

"What about?" Soul settled back in the bed, trying to maintain his curiosity even as his Meister scoffed.

"I'd prefer to speak with you separately, if that's alright," the Death Scythe said, "I don't mean to interrupt your visit, but this is important."

"Do you need me for whatever this is?" Maka's tone was dour again, her eyes sharp, "If this is another one of your bookshop outings, I'd rather just go home."

"This isn't personal, Maka," again, it was a struggle to keep the hurt out of his voice, but Spirit endeavoured anyways, "This is Academy business. And, no, it can't be anyone else - it has to be you."

For a long moment, his younger daughter sized him up, clearly wracking her mind for a valid reason to refuse. After along few seconds, however, she just let out a defeated sigh, closing her eyes and raising a hand to rub her temple, "Does it need to happen now?"

"Sooner would be better," the redhead confirmed.

He saw her fingers tighten, "How long will it take?"

"... I don't actually know," the Death Scythe confessed, "I… can't really talk about it here."

Again, silence as Maka's lips drew thin, screwing her eyes shut as tight as she could.

"... hey," Soul piped up, breaking the tension; as the girl's green eyes fell on him, he smiled, "You can come right back here when you're done, alright? I'm not going anywhere."

"... I'll be waiting outside," she breathed, mustering as much grace as she could as she brushed past her father without a second glance.

He resisted the urge to put a hand on her shoulder, or to turn around as the door swung closed behind her; instead, Spirit then looked to Blair, who hadn't yet moved from her spot on the wall, "... I don't mean to kick you out, but…"

"One-on-one convo?" she asked.

"One-on-one convo," the redhead smiled.

The woman nodded; she turned her golden eyes to Soul, "I'll be right back. Okay?"

"Sure thing, Blair," Soul did his best to wave her off.

With that, Blair's form was consumed in a puff of smoke, leaving only a black cat in a Witch's hat behind. Wordlessly, she padded out towards the door, undoubtedly to keep Maka company as she waited for the Death Scythe.

For a long moment, neither Weapon spoke; cyan eyes met crimson, and Spirit felt his smile slip away. He'd never spoken with Soul alone before; moreover, he'd always envisioned the first conversation he would have alone with the boy involving a not insignificant amount of yelling and throttling.

It was clear that the younger Scythe was just as lost, pursing his lips and refusing to break eye contact, but there was no actual aggression or flippancy in his posture or expression. Only a slight tension, wetting his lips with his tongue as he ran through whatever he was going to say next.

"... I, uh…" the Death Scythe paused, then rounded the bed, taking a chair by the window, "I didn't think we'd ever be talking quite like this."

"... me either," the albino boy managed; his lips twisted, "You, um… you manage to get any pasta while you were in Italy?"

"Can't say I did, unfortunately," Spirit ran a hand across his scalp again, "Only things I got were coffee and bad scones."

"Damn," Soul snapped his fingers, wincing at the motion, though the beginnings of a smile tugged at his lips, "Nobody seems to know what Italian pasta tastes like…"

The suit-clad teacher just smirked, letting the tension drain from his shoulders as he set his elbows on his knees, "Life just seems to get in our way sometimes, huh?"

"Yeah. Yeah it does," the boy took a breath, then fixed his attention on Spirit again, "... so… what's this about, Death Scythe?"

"... I wanted to thank you, Soul."

It was a strange admission to make - and clearly, not one that Soul had expected. He blinked, crimson eyes wide as he stared openly at the elder Scythe, mouth falling noiselessly open. It was clear, at least, that he knew what the Death Scythe was referring to, as he turned his eyes to the closed door, where Maka waited in the hallway beyond. He stared into the pitch black wood for a long moment before finally turning his attention back to the redhead.

"I-I… you…" the youth swallowed, "... why? I… I didn't do anything special, I just…"

"... you just…?" the Death Scythe prompted.

"... I protected My Meister. I did what I was supposed to do," Soul finally seemed to regain his composure, expression stony as he met Spirit's gaze, "I did what any other Weapon worth their salt would have done in my place."

"Maybe," Spirit conceded, "But, that doesn't change that what you did was… incredible."

"It was expected-"

"It was brave," the redhead scooted himself forwards, almost entirely out of his chair, feeling himself become more and more animated as his emotions rose, "Do you have any idea how many other Weapons would struggle to put their lives on the line for their Meister like that? How many full grown adults would struggle to protect their partners in that situation?"

This time, the wounded Weapon didn't seem to have a response. He sat, silent, red eyes breaking away from Spirit's own once again.

"... yes, you were taught that defending your Meister is your duty as a Demon Weapon. I got all the same lectures when I was your age," the Death Scythe breathed, trying to keep his voice down and his tone even, "But there's a big difference between knowing that and truly understanding it. You were put into a no-win situation, and you made the decision to prioritize your partner's safety - even if that meant putting your own life on the line."

He paused, trying to gauge Soul's reaction; the boy's eyes were narrow, his lips pursed and jaw set as he stared down into his own lap. Slowly, his hands clenched into fists, faintly trembling where they rested atop the blanket.

"... that's not to say I approve of kids risking their lives; you shouldn't have had to face that situation in the first place," Spirit continued. He reached out, placing a hand on the younger Weapon's shoulder, feeling his voice crack as he admitted, "But you saved Maka. You saved your partner, my daughter. And no matter how much you get under my skin, Soul… that's something I will never be able to thank you enough for."

The words didn't seem to have the effect that the redhead had hoped for. Soul refused to meet his gaze; he only seemed to grow more pensive with every word, his jaw and fists clenching tighter. His eyes closed, and he forced himself to take a breath…

"... I couldn't…" the student whispered.

Spirit did not respond. He remained silent, waiting for Soul to finish.

Whatever Soul was going to say, however, it didn't seem the boy had any intention of finishing. Those crimson eyes opened once again, staring off into a far corner of the room, "... you're giving me too much credit, Death Scythe. There was nothing else I could do."

"You could have abandoned Maka," the teacher countered, "You could have run."

The pale youth snorted, "Don't even joke."

"It was an option. One you refused to consider. But it was an option."

"No. It wasn't," Soul sighed, "I wouldn't have gotten anywhere even if I'd tried. All I could do was buy Maka time. And now look at us."

He grit his teeth again as he raised an arm, the motion visibly painful; Spirit wasn't entirely sure what the boy wanted to show him, but he knew the look on the boy's face all too well.

He'd worn it more than once over his career as a Weapon, after all.

"... I know that feeling all too well, Soul," the Death Scythe gently reached forwards, pushing the limb back down and catching the youth's eyes once again.

"Do you?" Soul grimaced, eyes sharpened into a challenging glare.

It took all of Spirit's self control not to let his lips twist into a bitter smirk, "What, you think I got where I am now by only taking easy jobs?"

"You don't exactly strike me as the guy to do things the hard way," the pale lad crossed his arms again.

"The hard way is the only way if you want to become a Death Scythe," the crimson-haired man chuckled, "I've spent my fair share of time in a hospital bed, Soul. I know what I'm talking about here."

Soul's only response was to grunt, noncommittal, though the way he broke his gaze away again in an attempt to save face told Spirit all he needed to know.

"... look," the Death Scythe pulled his hand back, crossing his own arms as he leaned back in his seat, "You're being too hard on yourself, Soul. And I get why; that helplessness you're feeling, right now? To use your turn of phrase, it's absolutely fucking miserable."

The way the boy's hands tightened on his biceps and his shoulders set, hunching in on himself slightly, said more than any amount of confession or denial ever could. Despite himself, the redhead felt some amount of sympathy for Soul in this moment - he'd been the same way, at his age.

But that didn't mean he wasn't going to say his piece.

"... I know what it's like to feel like you weren't enough. Like there was nothing you could do. It's horrible," the memory of Makoto cradling his own broken body on the cold concrete shot through his mind, forcing him to pause; it took him a moment to shrug it off, to bring himself back to the moment, "But that doesn't mean your efforts were worthless. You made a difference that night."

Still no response; he could tell that Soul had closed himself off almost entirely, and was now mostly waiting for the Death Scythe to shut up.

"... I'm not going to tell you how to feel, or what to think. I know better than to do that with you," Spirit finally sighed, "But no matter how you feel, or what goes through your head, I want you to remember one thing above everything else."

"... and what's that?" the younger Weapon mumbled, still not looking up from the corner.

"You protected Maka, Soul," Spirit insisted; it was only when those red eyes drifted back to his that he continued, "It wasn't much. But the time you bought her was enough. Your partner, my daughter, is alive because of you."

Soul maintained his gaze for a long moment, before he finally sighed; the tension drained from his body, but he didn't seem relieved. If anything, he just seemed like all the energy had just been sapped from his form, leaving him as pale as his hair, his eyes half lidded and his lips downturned, "... yeah. I know that already, Death Scythe."

"... well. I've said just about everything I wanted to say," Spirit stood; he did his best to keep his expression neutral as he made his way to the door, "Don't beat yourself up too much, Soul."

"... hey, Death Scythe?"

The elder Scythe stopped; he turned to face Soul, who still seemed to be staring off into nothing. His eyes were narrowed now, seeming to be chewing on whatever it was he had to say…

Ultimately, though, Soul only shook his head, "... never mind. Just… thanks for swingin' by."

Spirit blinked, surprised by the gesture. Briefly, he debated chasing this momentary chink in the armour the student had displayed…

Instead, he merely smiled, "You take care of yourself, Soul. Maka's gonna want you on your feet as soon as possible."

He turned back to the door, only pausing for a moment before shooting back over his shoulder, "If you want to talk, you know where to find me."

With that, he stepped through the door, and closed it behind him as quietly as he could.

"... good talk?" Blair asked from where she sat perched on Maka's shoulder.

"... better than I was afraid of, not as good as I hoped," Spirit stated, "He's a little grumpy now, I think. Doesn't like listening to his elders."

"He is twelve," the cat stated languidly, hopping down, "What twelve year old likes listening to adults?"

"Right here," Maka grumbled, clearly unhappy with the generalization.

"Yeah, but you don't like listening to either of us, sooooooo…" somehow, Blair's already fiendish feline grin only grew more catlike.

"Look, can we just go?" the Meister snapped, her face flushing with embarassment at having walked straight into the trap, "I have homework I need to do, so let's get this over with."

"Alright, alright," the Scythe raised his hands in surrender, "Let's go."

"I'll keep Soul company while you're gone, Maka," Blair promised, padding over to the door; it opened without so much as a creak, letting the Magical kitten slip on through before closing just as silently.

"... well?" Spirit gestured down the hall, prompting his daughter to follow, "Shall we?"

"... what is it you want me to do?" Maka queried coldly, eyes narrow and suspicious, clearly not trusting her father to be genuine.

"Can't talk about that. Not here, anyways" the redhead shook his head as he started down the hall, the grey-haired girl's footsteps echoing a second behind his.

Maka scoffed, "You expect me to believe this is classified?"

"I am a Death Scythe, Maka," he shoved his hands in his pockets, mildly indignant; he'd hoped the prospect of forbidden knowledge would help curb his daughter's temper, "That means I know things almost nobody else does."

The girl snorted, but made no further comment. She only followed him down the hall…

---

… and ever deeper into the woods.

"... we've been walking… for a while now," King drawled, now exaggerating his deep breaths as he hung limply in Luz's arms.

The Witch tuned out his near whine, knowing his ploy all too-well; he believed that as long as he could fake his exhaustion, the human would continue to carry him, none the wiser to his trickery. Granted, Luz almost would have carried him regardless, defeating the purpose of the ploy in the first place - but evidently, the Demon would rather pretend to be tired than ask to be carried.

"The tower's still in view, King," Luz comforted, a smile in her voice, "We can still find our way back."

"Doesn't change that we're going in pretty deep!" he quipped, "We've been going for like, twenty minutes!"

"We've been walking for ten minutes," Eda countered smoothly, "If that."

"That's still ten more minutes away from the house than I want to be, Eda!" he finally wriggled up and out of her student's arms, perching himself on her shoulder and abandoning his act entirely, "Now where are we going!?"

"You're free to go back whenever you want, King," the Witch pointedly did not look back, instead sweeping her eyes across the everautumns, "Now where were those trees?..."

"Trees?"

Eda ignored the intrigued confusion in her apprentice's tone; instead, she strode further into the woods, careful to keep the Owl House in view as she searched for her prize.

It didn't take long to find.

Like all everautumns, the trees were dizzyingly tall, stretching into the sky well above the roof of the Owl House proper, even if they failed to match the height of the old stone tower. Once, they'd been much like the forest around them - bark of mild, mottled purple shrouded in long, thin needles of red and orange, each one sharp enough to pierce skin with even the slightest of pressure, the barbed tips practically quills. This alone would have been more than enough to dissuade most herbivores, but the heavy, head-sized spinecones would surely finish off any animal stubborn enough to try regardless.

As it was, however, these particular trees had long since lost all their needles and cones, dried, fragile spindles and shells that cracked loudly and incessantly beneath the Witch's heels as she strode between them. The purple bark had withered to a rotting black, limbs and trunk alike twisted and contorted into gnarled tendrils, shadows given shape beneath the soil and reaching up to try and rake the sky. The sap that leaked from cracks in the bark should have been a brilliant amber, but had brightened to a near matte white, seeping in chunks from the wood and catching in the knots and crevices - pus, if the smell was anything to go by, though whether it was drawn up from the earth by the trees' roots or merely generated by their sickness, Eda couldn't know.

She just knew the trees had to come down.

"Here we are," the one-woman parliament declared, taking another sip of her coffee, "The rotting everautumns."

The faint horror in Luz's eyes was palpable as she looked from trunk to trunk, eyes wide and lips parted. She set King down on a stump before stepping forwards to trace the edge of a particularly large boil in the bark with her fingers, the sap layer having not yet burst, "... what… is this, Eda?... are they sick?"

"Mmhm. Not entirely sure with what - there's at least five different infections I can think of with these symptoms - but it wasn't this bad before," Eda leaned forwards, inspecting the dying wood, "Looks like the boiling rain really advanced their infections; they're gonna have to come down before they either fall or spread to more of the forest."

"... wait," the mocha child rapidly put the pieces together, head snapping to face the Clawthorne, "You… you want me to take these down?"

"Yep," The Witch felt her smile split into a grin, teeth bared, "Your next task, Luz, is to take all these trees down, tear up their roots, and bring them back to the house. I want them in as large of pieces as possible, and I want you to get started right here, right now."

"... but… but I don't have the axe," Luz turned back to the tower looming in the distance, "Should I-?"

"No," Eda interrupted, letting sternness tinge her tone, "You won't be using any tools for this."

"Ooooh, barehanded!" King abandoned all pretense of lethargy, immediately pushing himself up and crossing his legs, tail wagging eagerly as he watched with a newfound smug glee, "This should be fun!"

"... no tools?" Luz gaped, "No axe? No wagon?"

"No axe, no wagon."

"Not even a shovel for the roots!?"

"Not even that," the elder magus shook her head, sobering just enough for a hint of sternness to seep into her words, "Tools would defeat the purpose of your actual task here. I want you to use two things; your body, and your Soul Wavelength."

At this, the tanned teen seemed well and truly lost; she turned to face the smallest tree, which still towered over her like an obelisk. She stood dead still for a long moment, lips pursed and eyes wide as she struggled with the idea of bringing it down with nothing but her bare hands…

"... well?" Eda prompted, taking another swig of her coffee, "Aren't you going to start?"

"... I just…" Luz gesticulated wildly up and down the tree, "How?"

"Simple," cup now empty, Eda let it float in the air, sidling up beside her apprentice, "Just take a swing. Hard as you can."

"... won't I break my hand if I do that?" the would-be-Witch rubbed her knuckles, already wincing at the prospect, "And the splinters, and-"

"Your Soul Wavelength'll protect you," the red-clad woman assured, "Trust me. If how it's kept you going so far today is any indication, this won't be a problem. I doubt you'll even be scratched."

"... what about all the pus?" the student eyed the boils and sap warily, "This… doesn't look safe to handle…"

"It'll definitely be gross. But it won't be anything that a nice warm bath can't fix," Eda assured.

At this, Luz fell silent, continuing to stare up at the tree. The trunk was almost as thick around as her torso, each branch thicker than her arm, even desiccated as they were with sickness.

"Best of luck, Luz!" King snickered, waving a claw, "Try not to break your hand on the trunk! I still want tummy rubs later!"

His only response to Eda's withering glare was to cackle, delighted at the trouble he'd stirred; just from looking, she could see the way Luz was second-guessing herself, lips pursed and eyes cast up towards the towering heights of the dying trees before her. She wrung her hands together, clearly unsure as to whether or not what she'd been asked to do was even possible - to bring down whole trees with nothing but her bare hands…

"... don't think about it so much," the Witch let a hand rest on the human's shoulder, "You'll be fine. Even if you do break something, I'm right here to fix it. I wouldn't ask you to do this if I didn't think you could."

"... okay," Luz finally took a breath, stepping towards the trunk, "Just… punch it, right? Hard as I can?"

"Hard as you can," Eda stepped back, eyes fixed firmly on her apprentice.

The youth grimaced, a shudder visibly racing down her spine before she made a show of cracking her knuckles, clearly trying to prepare herself. They barely popped, clearly having never been tested, but the silver vixen ignored the lack of sound, instead watching as Luz reared back her fist.

The punch was clumsy - painfully clumsy, the clumsiness indicative of a complete lack of experience. Luz had pulled her arm back so far, Eda was half convinced the girl was about to hit herself in the back of the head. Her legs were too straight, her feet too close together, and there was no torque to her hips or core at all; all of the power of this punch was going to come from her shoulder, and her Soul Wavelength, with energy wasted in both the windup and the release. The way Luz's eyes were squeezed shut, clearly bracing for pain, would only make her more likely to miss, for her fist to either glance off the tree or miss entirely.

Even despite all these factors, born of equal parts inexperience and fear, her fist screamed forwards, slamming into the blackened bark with every ounce of force the girl could muster.

And the wood shattered under the blow.

A chunk of wood the size of a watermelon was simply gone, torn out of the trunk and hurled away by the initial impact of the teen's knuckles, exposing the pale wood within; sap and fresh pus spattered across the ground, then seeped from the freshly open wound. The entire tree seemed to shudder under the force, twigs and branches falling in a hail of blackened shards from above. The trunk let out a miserable, almost protesting creak as it began to tip, so much of its support having simply been smashed out from beneath it; the wood splintered, twisted, broke, Luz staring dumbfounded as the tree began to fall directly towards her.

"Move it, Luz!" Eda barked, "Dodge!"

On panicked impulse more than anything else, the human obeyed; she threw herself to the side, hitting the ground with her hands held over her head to protect herself from the falling tower. Branches continued to fall and snap, forcing King to scramble out of the way himself with a terrified yelp, branches missing him by mere inches as he ducked down behind his stump. The tree finally smashed into the earth with a resounding crash, parts of its trunk buckling under the impact, some branches snapping off entirely, others crushed into twigs and powder under the fallen tree's weight. A flock of harpies flew up into the air, startled and spitting hissing curses into the forest below before flying off into the distance, leaving half-rotted feathers behind in their wake.

And then, all was silent once more.

Luz gasped for breath, more out of shock than out of any actual exertion, eyes slowly pulling back open as she stared down at the toppled tree. The only things that supported it now was the ground itself, and the few splinters that still connected it to the stump bone white.

"... whoa…" she murmured, voice trembling slightly as it wavered between the remnants of terror and the growing sense of awe that was clearly swelling in her. The purple-clad teen slowly stood back up, idly waving a hand in front of her nose as if that would be enough to push away the horrid stench of the mixing sap and pus, before craning her neck to look at her teacher, "Eda, did you-?"

Eda merely kept her arms crossed, smirking, not saying so much as a word. King, for his part, had finally popped out from behind his stump, eyes wide as he hopped up onto the wood to survey the damage, utterly silent as he looked up and down the length of the tree, before his gaze fixed upon Luz once again.

"... this is real," a joyous, nearly hysterical laugh escaped Luz's lips, turning her attention back to the fallen giant, "I just… I just knocked it down! With one punch!"

"Does your hand hurt?" the Witch asked.

"Not at all!" clearly having forgotten about that entirely, the human straightened, examining her knuckles; all that decorated them was flecks of blackened bark, and the slightest of scrapes, "I mean, my skin and my wrist sting a little, but… but other than that, I'm perfectly fine!"

"Not bad, for your first try," Eda chuckled, sauntering up to ruffle her student's hair, "Just imagine what you'll be able to do after I've taught you how to actually throw a punch."

The idea had clearly already crossed Luz's mind; she let out a burble of delight, eagerly bouncing from foot to foot as she reached down, slipping her fingers beneath the trunk, clearly expecting to be able to lift the entire thing. However, it barely budged as she hefted, her smile quickly warping into a grimace of mixed surprise and exertion. She grunted, trying first with her arms before sinking into a crouch, shifting from trying to pull the tree up towards her to trying to get her whole body beneath it and push it up and away from the ground.

To Eda's surprise, it shifted - though it didn't move more than half an inch, the prospect of lifting the entire thing a hopeless endeavour, the human managed to lift the diseased giant, however slightly, bracing her shoulders beneath it and pushing up with all her might, legs, back, arms and all. Her breaths were harsh with exertion as she put every ounce of force she could muster into lifting…

But within seconds, she was forced to drop to her knees, shoulders slumping as her strength gave out, the entire trunk visibly bouncing as it once again lost its support.

"... too… heavy…" she huffed, sweat slipping down the side of her temple.

"No surprise there - that tree probably weighs five thousand pounds or more, even withered as it is and missing its roots," the Witch noted, dragging a nail across the black bark, "Honestly, it's impressive that you can move it at all."

"So… what do I do now?" Luz met Eda's eyes, grunting as she tried to lift the tree again.

"Well, lessee," the elder woman strode down the length of the tree, "… five, ten, fifteen…"

"Eda?"

"... ten feet should do," Eda settled, setting her nails into the bark; she shot her Wavelength through her fingers and into the wood, severing it without so much as a wayward splinter. The rest of the tree fell to the ground, and the human squeaked as she shot up, nearly tipping over entirely from the imbalance-

Only for the Owl Lady to gently grasp one end of the severed log, smirking as Luz struggled to steady herself.

"Center yourself," she instructed, "It'll be easier to carry from the middle."

Quickly, her student obeyed, scrambling along the log until she was squarely in the middle; it was only after she regained her balance that she also regained her awe, head whipping back and forth to see each end of the trunk she now had slung across her shoulders.

"... this thing's bigger than I am," she whispered, clearly awed.

"Is it heavy?" the Witch queried, letting go now that Luz was no longer in danger of tipping over.

"... yeah, but…" the mocha child bit her lip, "... it's not… too heavy? Like… I don't think I wanna lug this around all day, but… hold on."

She grit her teeth, letting her knees bend; lower, lower, still lower, her back stooping slightly under the weight as the human sank into the squat, almost sitting down completely. She took a deep breath, then slowly pushed herself back up, elation clear from the way her lips curled and split into a grin.

"... dios mio," she murmured, "Eda, how much am I lifting right now!?"

"Going off this tree?" the pale woman matched the grin with one of her own, "That log you're carrying is anywhere between three and four hundred pounds. Give or take a couple splinters."

"That much!?"

"That much."

Again, that burble of utter glee as Luz fought to maintain her balance, taking one experimental step, then another. Before long, she'd found an even stride, and spun to face her mentor, eyes gleaming, "I'm so much stronger now! I just-!... this is amazing, Eda!"

"Don't let it get to your head, Luz," Eda chuckled, "This is just the beginning; as far as Soul Wavelength goes, you're just starting to crawl. Now, take that log back to the House, and get back here, fast as you can."

"Sure thing!" the girl nodded, glee replaced with eager determination, "You'll be watching?"

"The whole time," the silver owl gestured, "I want these trees cleared and their roots torn up by sundown."

"That long?" Luz cocked an eyebrow.

"Trust me, you're going to need the time," Eda took her mug from out of the air, "Now get going."

Without another word, the tanned teen obeyed, jogging into the woods with the log over her shoulders.

"... she's gotten strong," King murmured, eyes wide with awe as he stared into Luz's retreating back.

"She's just getting started, King," the Witch chuckled, "If you think she's strong now, just wait until she's been training for a month."

The Demon puffed out his chest, crossing his stubby arms, "Well, of course! If she wants to keep being my top minion, she's going to need to keep proving herself! Can't have her slacking off!"

"Right," Eda snorted, "Speaking of… you can start breaking and gathering branches."

"... weh?" his golden eyes shot open wide, staring blankly at her.

"Go on," she gestured vaguely to what remained of the fallen tree, "Get to work, King."

"Wha-But-!" he spluttered, panicked and indignant, "Why do I have to help!? This is Luz's training, isn't it!?"

"Yes, but the trunks of the trees themselves are going to be more than enough for her first task. The branches will just be busywork she doesn't need," the vixen crossed her arms pointedly, "For you, though… the branches are the perfect size for your training."

"MY training!?" he screeched.

"Yes. Your training," Eda repeated, smug, "Don't think I didn't notice you failing utterly to keep up with Luz while she was running. You're out of shape, King, and you're not taking any steps to deal with it yourself. So I'm going to be drilling both of you."

"I–! You-! You can't-!" the tiny tyrant was practically frothing at the mouth, glaring up at her in pure outrage, "I am the King of Demons, Eda!"

"And at the rate you're going, you're never going to reclaim your throne," she snarked, never letting her smirk fade, "You really content to just laze about on your laurels, oh, fallen tyrant? Keep your halls and feasts a thing of the past?"

The snarl that rumbled in his throat rose into another high-pitched squeal of anger. King flailed his arms and stomped his feet, absolutely furious that he'd been backed into corner he couldn't simply yell his way out of. Unable to stop his anger, he tackled the closest tree branch, ineffectively clawing at the dying wood.

"... use your Wavelength, King," the Witch was all too happy to remind him, her mischief actively parting her lips.

"Shut up!" he tried to roar, but it came out as more of a squeak as the branch finally snapped under his weight; he fell to the ground, chin colliding with the dirt. He shook his head, briefly bewildered, before lugging the branch onto his shoulder and glaring up at the foxy elder, "Just you watch, Eda! I'll reclaim my throne before you know it, and then you'll be begging me for mercy!"

"Then get on with it," Eda gently tossed her staff; it wheeled around the grove before gracefully catching her as she leaned back into a sit. It raised her up and off the ground, towards the brilliant orange canopy, "And before you slack off, remember: I've got my eye on both of you."

His only response was an angry growl before he tore off through the woods after Luz, gripping the branch with one claw over his shoulder as he scampered on his other three legs. Whether or not his enthusiasm would last, the Owl Lady wasn't certain - but at the very least, riling him up was certainly entertaining.

Her mug now empty, she reached into her hair, pulling out a thermos; she poured herself another round of apple blood infused coffee, content to watch her wards as they began their training in earnest.

---

In the five days since he'd awoken, he still hadn't managed to fully rein in his fear.

Most of the time, the Golden Guard could force it down, but there were a thousand niggling things that constantly ate away at his nerves in this place. The prospect of living under that blazing blue sky, with its blinding white clouds and that hideous excuse for a sun, was not particularly palatable, but it would have been better than the isolation of this little room. With the bed included, he had very little room to work with - he could barely do any exercises to maintain his strength or test how far along he was in his recovery. The strange, tiny telescopes with the blinking red lights never seemed to stop their barely perceivable electric humming, which undoubtedly meant he was always being watched, and his visitors, rare as they were, were all much too strong for him to properly fight, maimed as he was.

He could move now, at least, and even walk around on his own, but it was hardly with the grace he was used to. Everything still ached - though it didn't help that he'd refused the analgesics his captors had offered - and every time he moved at anything faster than a slow walk, he was levelled with the threat of sedatives and restraints.

He still didn't know where his gear was. Where his staff was.

He didn't know how much time had passed since he'd left the Boiling Isles.

He didn't know how much time he had until the Demon Sword transformed into a Kishin.

He couldn't get any information without potentially giving away information himself.

"Well, well. Look at you, up and about without your crutches."

And worst of all, Medusa Gorgon was a near constant presence in this cursed place.

He glanced over his shoulder, doing everything he could to keep his heart rate from spiking at the sound of the voice, and to keep his expression neutral as he met those cold, golden eyes; she closed the door behind her, smiling warmly, a written record and writing board tucked under one arm. She stepped into the room, looking him up and down, "You're certainly coming along nicely, recovery-wise. Much better than you were when you woke up."

The most the Guard offered in response was to turn to face her, though it was mostly to make sure she didn't have access to his back. It was a meaningless gesture; he knew it, and undoubtedly, the elder Witch knew it - but at the very least, if he was facing her, he could pray to the Titan for some form of opportunity to crop up, no matter how small or unlikely it was.

The Serpent of the Shapeless Isle stopped a respectable distance away, perfectly feigning concern for his comfort and her own safety as she spoke, "I'm not here to pester you. I'm just here for your daily check-up. Nothing more. I will be gone in a few minutes. Would you please lay down for me?"

She indicated the bed with her free hand, placid as ever.

He could disobey. The Witchling could go out of his way to make this difficult for her. He could rush her, try to strike her, try to shove past her and out into the halls and try to get somewhere, anywhere, that wasn't here.

Part of him wanted to, desperately, just to claw back some amount of agency from her, and from this Gods-forsaken place.

But he knew very well that would likely end very poorly for him. Not now, that would damage her cover - but she would find a way to make him pay for every difficulty, every indignity he threw at her.

And so, reluctantly, he obeyed, slowly making his way back to the strange bed, and laying down across its uncomfortable surface.

"Thank you," the Witch beamed, finally deigning to approach.

The youth did everything he could not to squirm under the caress of her ice cold hands as she undid the bandages on his right arm, pulling them away to expose the pale skin beneath; almost every cut had healed completely at this point, leaving only faint scars behind, and he could fully articulate the limb and fingers at this point. Most of the ache came from the shoulder at this point, and almost all the stitches had disintegrated, leaving small scraps of black thread to fall to the ground as the white fabric had pulled away.

"I'll give this to Stein - he does clean work, even in less than ideal circumstances," Medusa stated idly, "Your right arm seems almost back to full strength, although I wouldn't expect the aches to stop for at least the next week. Even with Soul Wavelength, muscles need time to heal."

As usual, he kept silent, though he was mildly surprised to see that the Witch evidently had no intention of redoing the bandages on his right arm. Instead, she rounded the bed, and began undoing the wrappings on his left arm.

"I appreciate how cooperative you've been," she spoke, and the Witchling couldn't tell if she was trying to goad him or if she was simply talking to hear her own voice, "Really, I do. It's made looking after you much easier. Although, you do realize how much more smoothly things could go for you if you'd just cooperate with Death Scythe or Sid, right?"

The Guard grit his teeth, refusing to look away. As it was, it was hard to keep biting down on his tongue; he wasn't cooperating with her for the sake of ease, and she damn well knew it. Ever since he'd first heard her voice in his head, no, ever since he'd first been dragged here, this had been a hostage situation. Cooperating was the only move he could make, forced into a game of chess where he'd woken up at the table to find that his pawns, rooks, knights, bishops and queen had all been taken from him before the game had even begun.

'Do you get a kick out of this?' he thought, fearful fury bubbling in his very Soul, 'Playing human under the Reaper's nose?'

She continued to unwrap his left arm, seeming none the wiser to his internal dialogue.

He wasn't expecting an answer.

'He is shockingly easy to string along.'

The sound of her voice made the Guard's heart nearly leap clean out of his throat; he had to choke down on a gasp, staring openly at the woman as she took away the last bandage, exposing the scars in full.

She didn't even look at him, smiling placidly as she explained how the damage in his left arm had been so much worse, perforated as it had been; he only distantly registered that the bones and muscle would need more time than his right arm to fully recover, nearly drowned out entirely by the thought that followed, her voice cold, cruel, and entirely too pleased, 'He really does value humans more than he should. It makes the DWMA as a whole remarkably easy to trick.'

The pale blond forced himself to swallow, trying to force himself back into a state of neutrality, and finding very little success. He frowned, taking a breath, before sending a thought of his own, more deliberately this time, 'So… you can hear my thoughts.'

'I can. They're rather disappointing, even for a Golden Guard.'

'Disappointing?' despite the situation, the lilac-eyed Witchling found it in himself to feel insulted.

'I swear, each one of you is more dogmatic and rabidly loyal to your precious Emperor than the last,' she was going on about his 'IV' scar now, and how it would be worse because of how he'd torn the tube out the first time, 'You're as bad as the Witch Order. Unthinkingly loyal to a man whose face you've never even seen, and whose objectives you don't understand.'

He grit his teeth, biting down on his impulse to protect the honour of the Emperor - it wouldn't do any good with someone like her, and an outburst now would make it far harder to keep his mouth shut in the future. Instead, he deliberately twisted his lips into a smirk, 'Well. At the very least, I know roughly what kind of spell you've cast. Thought transmission, mind reading, through a Soul Protect… not a whole lot of spells that potent.'

'It won't do you any good,' Medusa had moved down to his legs now, undoing the bandages at his thigh and working her way down to his knee, then his calf, 'Just because you know what it is and how it might work doesn't mean you can do anything to stop it. Especially without your staff, little Sorcerer.'

'... that depends entirely on which of the three spells you're using,' his smile dropped; he could feel the fear being supplanted by rage as he sat up, 'Pegasus' Millennium Eye only works on people you can see. Even if you can, there are workarounds. Victor's Soul Projection requires extremely close contact, and doesn't guarantee your safety, especially under the restrictions of Soul Protect. Even an Arcane Mind Link, you can't use to its full extent under Soul Protect - you step out of this room, you lose access to my mind.'

'Well, I suppose it's a good thing I've already combed your mind for everything useful, then,' her tone was as biting as it was dry, as smug as it was malicious.

The Golden Guard forced himself to take a breath; he couldn't afford to let her bait him. Instead, he frowned, 'I'm fairly certain we can rule out Millennium Eye and Soul Projection. You're not keeping eye contact, and I'd be able to feel our Souls interacting if it were either of those. That leaves the Mind Link - which is both the longest range of the three, but also the most fragile. Once I get my hands on my staff, your spell shatters.'

'Assuming that you're correct, at least,' she countered, even as she finished with his legs and instructed him to turn over onto his back, 'There's a great deal about Magic that you clearly haven't been taught. Honestly, sending you out beyond the Isles, into the human realm when you know this little… just what was the Emperor thinking?'

The younger blond felt himself bristle again. He sank his fingers into the sheets, tightening his grip even as the bandages across his back were undone… but even so, he let himself smile into the pillow, '... so you can't just dig through everything I know. Good to know.'

For the first time, there was no response, verbal or mental; a brief moment passed before the Guard felt his whole body seize entirely of its own accord. His muscles spasmed, his heart skipped a beat, his lungs all but collapsed; he felt like his skin was being separated from his muscles, and he could swear he felt something inside him slither…

"Oh, dear!" the faux-concern hit the perfect inflection; he felt her hands on his shoulders as she turned him over, staring down at him, "Are you alright!?"

He couldn't answer. Even as the wracking spasms of his body ended, the youth gasped for breath between violent coughs, spittle dripping down from his lip and tears forming in the corners of his eyes. The aches were all redoubled, and his heart hammered at the inside of his ribcage, both from the pain, and from the fangs of renewed fear that had just plunged into it.

"... it appears to have been an unknown-onset seizure," the elder Witch stated clinically, reaching into her pocket; she pulled out some small, strange contraption, a blindingly bright light shining into his eye, "Let me just-"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" the Guard screamed, mustering every ounce of might he could to shove her away; with a false stumble, the Snake charmer caught herself on the edge of the bed, having the audacity to look shocked and frightened herself, as if she hadn't just caused whatever had wracked his body. He clambered as far back away from the Gorgon as he could, all but perching on his pillow, unable to control his breaths, each one coming terrified and ragged.

"... okay," the darker blond made a deliberate show of setting the object down, giving it some sort of click; the light died, and she pulled her hand away, "Okay. I won't touch you. No one here will touch you. You're safe. I promise."

The Witchling knew what she was doing. She was going out of her way to make him look hysterical, to make it look like there was something wrong with him, to make it look like she was in no way responsible for whatever had just happened to him. All of that had likely been seen through that telescope, and the humans would eat it right out of her hands because they simply wouldn't know any better. A whole new dimension to his situation and the power the Serpent had over him was becoming clear, and it only served to wrench the fear in his Soul to new heights, doing everything it could to cloud his mind.

He couldn't let it.

He couldn't. If he did, she would take advantage and his situation would only get more dire.

The Guard forced himself to take deeper breaths, one at a time. Slowly, he settled back down, pushing his legs out from a perch into a splayed-legged sit. He slumped, hands catching his knees and chest falling forwards, eyes wide as he stared down into the bed.

'... good boy.'

The thought echoed over her words - a distant, quiet assurance and query, drowned beneath the casual cruelty of her mind. He swallowed hard, not wanting to raise his gaze to meet those horrible golden eyes again…

'I don't like having to repeat myself, Golden Guard. Especially not to uppity children. So consider this your first, and last warning,' it was like she was whispering directly into his ear, her voice filled to the brim with an almost cheerful malice, 'Don't push your luck.'

He couldn't bring himself to respond this time.

How could he, without knowing what she'd done to him?

Whatever that was, it was not just a mental link.

But before he could puzzle it out any further, there was a knock at the door.

The Guard didn't let his gaze drift away from Medusa, even as her head cocked, glancing back towards the door; after a moment, it pushed open, swinging slightly on its hinges, and for once, the boy could not possibly have been more relieved to see the Magic-tinged, red Soul and accompanying mop of crimson hair of the Death Scythe.

"... ummmm…" the Weapon paused, glancing back and forth between the boy and the Witch, oblivious to their prior exchange, "Am I interrupting something?"

"... you're fine, Death Scythe," the middle Gorgon sister managed a smile, "I was just trying to wrap up our guest's medical checkup. He's healing nicely, but I've found that he might be subject to seizures; he had a rather violent one just a minute ago, and he's still… agitated, as a result."

Again, making it his fault. Making him seem out of control.

He tightened his grip on the bedsheets and his teeth's hold on his tongue, desperately trying not to let himself erupt in equal parts fury and fearful frenzy.

"Yikes," those bright blue eyes met his own, entirely sympathetic, though it only reinforced the boy's urge to punch him and everyone else in this Godsforsaken place for being so utterly insipid, "Seizures, huh?"

"It's the only explanation I have for what just happened," the Witch picked up the light and her notes, tucking them under her arm, "He's yet to tell me if it's something else."

"Well, is he gonna be okay?" the Death Scythe queried, turning his attention back to the labcoat-clad woman.

"I'm not seeing any adverse effects, but again, he's…" she gestured vaguely towards him, "... very high strung, at the moment."

"I can see that," the black-clad man murmured.

It was getting infuriating, being talked about like he wasn't there. The urge to say something - anything at all - to assert some control over the situation was almost impossible to ignore, almost as strong as the sheer terror that still coiled around his heart and stomach.

And yet, he still couldn't say anything. His silence was his best insurance, against her, against all of them; he had no better moves to play than silence, silence he'd nearly broken once already with the Death Scythe not even a day prior, when he'd learned about the girl he'd saved…

Titan Damn it all.

How had things gone so horribly wrong so quickly?...

"... I don't suppose you think he could use one last visitor for the day?" the Death Scythe asked.

"Visitor?" it was Medusa's turn to blink, clearly confused.

The Weapon merely stood aside, hands in his pockets; stepping through the door was a much smaller figure, arms crossed and eyes narrowed in a scowl as she surveyed the room.

A familiar figure, with familiar eyes.

Eyes of green beneath grey hair pulled into tails on either side of her head, clad in a sweater over a plain shirt and a green tie pulled tight beneath her tucked collar.

The Golden Guard felt himself go rigid, all fear and fury forgotten as those green eyes met his own lilac; her own frustration seemed to crack, and then shatter, draining from her expression as shock took its place. Her eyes widened in a strange sort of mirror, her arms breaking their hold, and her mouth dropping open in a gasp.

"... you," for the first time in five days, the boy broke his silence of his own accord, a strange sort of relief overtaking him.

"... it's you," she whispered, "You… you're alive…!"

It might have been a ploy.

It probably was, to some degree.

But for the first time since waking up five days ago, the Golden Guard saw in this girl what he'd so desperately craved.

A path forwards.

---

Translations of Luz's and Spirit's Spanish in this chapter:

"¿Cómo estás? ¿Estás Bien?"

"How are you? Are you okay?"

...

"Estoy bien."

"I'm doing good."

...

"Me alegra escucharlo."

"I'm glad to hear it."

...

"Lo se, Papi."

"I know, Dad."

...

"¿Supongo que aún no has podido contárselo a tu madre?"

"I don't suppose you've managed to tell your mother yet?"

...

"Todavía no. Anoche no pude animarme a hacerlo, y ahora…

"Not yet. I... couldn't psych myself up for it last night, and now…"

...

"Te amo, Luz."

"Love you, Luz."

...

"Te amo, Papi. Adíos."

"Love you, Dad. Goodbye."

...

"... dios mio."

"... oh my God."

...

Translation work, as always, has been done by the wonderful maho_kat on Archive of Our Own! Please be sure to thank her for all her hard work!

Man, this one took a while. I'm getting into that bad habit again where I'm writing 14,000 word chapters as a baseline; I need to curb that, and curb it now, so please don't get used to this kind of giant word dump! I'd much rather get used to more frequent chapters in smaller chunks; there was just so much I felt I needed to fit in this one, you know?

Luz is training, Soul is fighting with himself, Spirit's trying to be a good dad, Maka's still miserable, and now Hunter's got more on his plate than he'd anticipated. Things are heating up again! I can't wait to get into what's coming!

But before I go, I'd like to say one last thing: Stay safe out there, everyone. I know the world is seeming... really scary, these days. I know it can be hard, given everything that's going on. I hope that my story brings a little bit of light to your days. But moreover, I hope that you're all okay out there.

Thank you all so much for reading, everyone, and thank you for your patience and understanding with me. Please be sure to let me know what you think! I hope you all enjoyed the thirty fifth chapter of Owls and Souls, Witches and Resonance!