Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

TRACK 1

You are a stranger here, why have you come?Why have you come?

Lift me higher, let me look at the sun. Look at the sun. 

And once I hear them clearly, say

Who, who are you really? And where are you going?  

(Who are you really - Mikky Ekko)

***********

When Merlin returned from his trip to the GDT Store and the research of his Apprentice, Claire and Jim, having gotten over the joy of seeing Toby after far too long, were absolutely shocked. 

Benoit's waiter. Excluding Steve, who certainly could not have been the wizard in question, there was only him. There could be no misunderstanding. 

His black, raven-wing-like hair was always tinged with that dark blue shade on the tips. They were always short and messy, but perhaps longer than before, if only slightly. Or, again, maybe it was just an impression. It had been a while since they had seen him. And honestly, it wasn't that big of a deal. They didn't know him that well enough to be sure of it—Jim didn't even like him as a person. Maybe it was jealousy due to the instant effect he had had on Claire from the first moment she saw him. Maybe it was something else. But that wasn't important either. Not with the Arcane Order and the Green Knight on their tail.

He had a half smile stretched across his face and… a black winged cat with glasses just over his shoulder? That seemed like a hallucination. A heavy hallucination to say the least. Not that they hadn't seen worse, of course, but still the feeling of the bizarre was not to be underestimated.

Much of the boy's attention—none of them remembered his name—was focused on his Master. He had seen them, but unlike Steve, who had instantly demanded attention like a Golden Retriever puppy, he had remained silent. He had stood behind the other Sorcerer as if waiting for him to say something, his arms resting at his sides, his back stiff, and his head vaguely tilted

It was strange to know that he was the Amulet maker's Apprentice. Of the strongest Sorcerer of them all. Jim did not know exactly what he would expect. Perhaps someone more adult, more rigid… more like Merlin himself. Not a young emo punk with a choker, a skull necklace, a set of earrings decorating his ears, black gloves cut off at the tip of his fingers, and black nail polish. He did not look like the kind of person the old man would appreciate. Quite the opposite. 

Claire, on the other hand, however, surprised by the discovery, remembered the Battle of the Bands very well. She remembered how he had given her thumbs up when she had been on stage wearing her armor, trying to warn the city of the oncoming danger. She had seen it as a gesture of moral support for the performance back in the day, but now she could not help but ask herself questions.

Had he been aware of the situation? Of all of it or only part of it? And if only a part, how much? Had he also known about it at their first meeting? Was that why he had approached her? But if it was because of that, why had he neither done nor said anything about it? He hadn’t done anything against Morgana Le Fay either; she in turn was Merlin's apprentice. So why? 

Everything was driven out of her mind rather quickly, somewhat like the shock in that of the Trollhunter. What they had to do erased them little by little. They both knew that there were more important things going on. They had been dancing to that bizarre rhythm long enough to know when it was best to avoid distraction. They could not afford to think about futile things. 

When Merlin explained the situation and his plan to go back in time to find out who the Green Knight with the mark of Camelot was—in his studio—his Apprentice was only a background figure and all the thoughts attached to him disappeared like footprints in the sand, hidden by the tide.

********

Douxie frowned. Silent frustration had started to churn under his skin, gushing in bursts and making him feel as if Zoe had struck him with an angry, unjustified thunderbolt. Archie's feelings, in response, tried to soothe him. Sadly in vain. 

The idea of returning to the past did not particularly excite him, but it was even worse that they were not succeeding. He was ready, the temporal map was ready... There was not even a trace of danger on the horizon, for now, a fact that was more than positive, but surely only momentary... Yet, the small energy blast that would open the temporal gateway from The Heart of Avalon wasn’t starting. And not for lack of power. The magic was humming, powerful, inside his ears. 

Hisirdoux would have liked to put his hands in his hair and start yanking at it to relieve stress. But if he had done that, Archie would have realized it. And his familiar would end up in a foul mood for more than half the day, and he honestly wanted to avoid it. 

"What's going on, Master?" He ended up asking, moving from his place just a little, seeing him appear with a wrinkled expression. 

Merlin looked up in his direction but remained initially silent. Douxie instantly tightened his lips, though many more questions had taken to navigating his brain, giving him no respite. He merely followed along, hoping for answers. He saw Nari of the Eternal Forest out of the corner of his eye, as he had once before he arrived—with the difference that, when he had reached the flying castle, seeing her had given him a heart attack—she, too, had an unhappy expression, but she did not venture out of the almost safe rooms of Camelot.

"Some gears have broken down. Their internal energy has worn out. Trying to fix them with magic could compromise others connected to them." Said his Master, pausing very briefly. "Time travel is already a perilous operation. To foolishly tamper with the tool that would lead us to accomplish one is highly inappropriate."

Douxie found himself agreeing, nodding. Going to another Era was already a big deal in every part of it: avoiding disrupting events seemed easy said but done? Not so much. If the same trip then threw them elsewhere with no way out... It would be suicide. So much for protecting the Earth. For the Arcane Order, it would have been a lucky and unlucky result at the same time. 

"So what should we do? Do we abandon the time travel plan and formulate another one?" Asked Archie, perching himself on his shoulder as if nothing had happened, wagging his tail in vague nervousness. A mild emotion, which the raven boy tried in turn to ease.

His Master did not respond. Again. Not before they reached the new room where the Trollhunter and the others were—not too far away from the first they had been in, but still enough to lose themselves if they roamed around—There, in fact, he briefly summarized the situation, then finally got to the point he and Archibald wanted to know. 

"The plan does not change, it is only postponed. We need to visit an old friend of mine. He should have the necessary materials so that I can recreate them."

Douxie arched his eyebrow before he realized it, intrigued. The “old friends” Merlin meant were never easy to predict. He had had too long a life to make them so. They were almost always super-powerful magical entities or legendary creatures that made anyone tremble at the mere mention of their names. Sir. Galahad was perhaps one of the only exceptions: the only thing legendary about the man was his resistance to alcohol. And to queasiness. 

From time to time, foolishly perhaps, before Camelot took flight—leading him to lose the only more or less stable home he had managed to find in his early years—he had wondered if the knight's proximity to Archie would cause him to catch fire from how much alcohol he had in his system. He seemed to have it instead of blood. 

"Who is it?" Asked Toby, stealing the words out of his mouth. 

"No one you would know," Merlin said simply, then resting his gaze on him—whose curiosity had only increased—sighing slightly. "His name is Dalai Sun... But most wizards know him by another name," he paused briefly and placed his hand on the table. "The Keeper of Balance."

'The Keeper of Balance...?' Douxie had heard it as a name before. Perhaps in passing. It was telling him something, and he felt it on the tip of his tongue.

He ended up wrinkling his nose, tightening his lips again. Part of him wished he could start marching around the entire perimeter of the room. It was generally a perfect way to bring clarity to his mind and to allow him to understand everything properly, but he did not need it this time. 

A sudden image flashed through his head, with pieces of books and historical events sticking together until they fit perfectly tight in a weird puzzle. The result left him speechless. 

"Him?!" he choked out with a voice painted with surprise, looking at his own Master with wide eyes as elation began to skyrocket along with general confusion through his head and chest. "But wasn't he gone and therefore believed dead after Lhasa’s past Reign's last events?" 

Merlin merely shook his head, not particularly elaborating on the question. "With the castle's moving speed and the Jumps, we should get to him in about three days. The important thing is to stay as far away from the Arcane Order as possible.”

This, too, seemed an easier thing to say than to do. Douxie, however, was more than positive in the fact that his Master must have performed all the concealment and divination protection spells possible. They would keep Skrael and Bellroc busy at least for a while. Or at least, Douxie hoped so. He did not doubt his Master's abilities in the slightest. But neither did he doubt those of two half demigods. If they had discovered them right away, well, that would have been a big trouble. 

Douxie ended up looking at the four boys and the two trolls, seeing their confused expressions, but soon after he noticed, Merlin had already started leaving the room. 

He tried to follow, but Merlin raised his hand to stop him on the spot, frustrating him. More than mildly, this time. 

"Stay here, Hisirdoux..." 

"But Master..."

"And don't ' but master ’ me,'" he retorted as Douxie tried to initiate the rebuttal, anticipating the protests. As usual. "Keep an eye on the situation."

Hisirdoux would have liked to tell him that he would have paid attention to his surroundings even if he followed him. He would’ve liked to insist, to fight to prevail his point of view, but he knew that right now… Well, it was not the time to get into an argument. That, however, did not mean he did not grumble, pointing out his disappointment. Annoyance painted in his gaze.

"...All right," he said as the man turned away for good, walking out. 

After nine hundred years of waiting, he wanted to prove himself useful. He wanted to make him realize that he was ready for whatever he would throw at him. He wanted to make him realize that he had grown, despite appearing identical to his past self. That he was more responsible and capable. But it didn't seem to be working.

'Patience,' he said to himself, in a voice that almost sounded like Archie's, so much so that he couldn't help but wonder if the dragon was mentally talking to him, deciding to believe the latter 'You've waited almost a millennium. You can wait a little longer, right? You'll be able to convince him.'

'You'll be able to make him understand that he didn't waste his time catching you and taking you off the street. That his teachings were not in vain.' This, unlike the previous ones, was his thoughts… and it reminded him too much of some of his childhood reasoning. 

He ended up dipping his hands into his familiar's fur, hoping to distract himself somehow. Archibald did not protest, appreciating with loud purrs the caresses under his chin. Just seeing him like this led him to smile again, barely sighing. 

"And who exactly would this Keeper of Balance be, College dude?" Intervened Steve, immediately catching him off guard by the nickname. 

"Ah, uhm." He did not know where to start explaining in such a way that everything would be understandable. The looks of expectation from the audience did not help. "Let's say that in Lhasa, a city very connected with magic, there was a witch named Xia Shàngdū who started practicing necromancy...."

"Necro-what? And what does this have to do with anything?" Asked the blond, interrupting him and receiving a slap on his head from Claire, who wrenched a groan of pain from him.

 "Let him finish," she said. He mentally thanked her. 

"Necromancy. Magic to bring the dead to life." He hastened to say. "It's a forbidden and harmful practice. And a real nut crack for universal balance because it disturbs the laws of life and death." Part of him would have liked to go into the technical details, but he forced himself to silence it, knowing that he would most likely get lost in the topic and they would not understand it anyway. "The main problem was that Xia, back in the day, had not completed the spells, so much so that the resurrected dead were bloodthirsty monsters."

"Like vampires?" Asked Jim, looking tense. Panic stiffened him from head to toe. 

"Worse. Vampires are creatures with a conscience, with the ability to choose and feel human emotions."

"Do those exist, too?" Steve appeared paler than before and started to look around as if a vampire was seriously about to appear and attack. He was trembling slightly. 

"Yes. But they look different than those from Dracula, Twilight, or The Vampire Diaries. Still, they aren’t that bad. And yes, I met a few," he chuckled, only to have a sudden realization. "I don't know if you've seen The Walking Dead TV Show..."

"Oh… oh! Jimbo and I have! On Halloween, we tried to watch the first few episodes." Toby went from delighted to terrified within a couple of seconds, realizing. "Horrifying.”

"That's it. The creatures in there are zombies. The ones from Lhasa were very similar, but they weren't decomposing, and the more they fed, the more powerful they became. They had attacked eight cities in Asia's Reigns, killing almost all the population inside them in less than a month," a pause. The group around him had appalled expressions on their faces. 

"The Keeper of Balance was able to eliminate most of the threat because of his intelligence and Golem-building skills..." Before Steve could ask, which was shown by the blatant question written on his face, he replied. "...They are giants, mostly made of clay, who possess no intelligence or other intellectual faculties but have inhuman strength. In a sense they were like Xia's creatures, lacking the killer instinct and much bigger than them." 

"Oh. They are like Trolls."

"I feel I strongly have to disagree. Us Trolls are pretty smart." Mister Galadrigal sounded somewhat offended. 

"...I meant about the material."

"...No, not even in the material." Retorted Douxie, trying not to laugh. Archie seemed on the verge of doing the same, so much so that he let out a choked sound. Claire, Toby, and Jim had big smiles on their faces.

"No such thing," Aaarrrgh said. 

"Okay, okay. I take it all back. They aren’t alike at all. Sorry." Steve paused, trying to escape all eight of the two Trolls' inquisitive eyes "And... So we're supposed to meet this guy ?" 

Douxie nodded, while Toby exclaimed "So cool!", almost sparkling with excitement. 

"And he'd be an old friend of Merlin's?" Quipped Jim, his wide eyes looking like they were about to pop out of their sockets. 

Hisirdoux tightened his shoulders a little, a smile widening his face and a peal of faint laughter escaping him. "Master Merlin knows a lot of weird people."

"This Keeper of Balance has certainly earned his name," added Blinkous Galadrigal, bringing all his arms to cross in front of his chest. "We will be more than honored to meet him."

 Aaarrrgh agreed with a half-voiced. "Keeper, good." 

"What about the witch? What happened to her?" Asked Claire suddenly, staring at him with a furrowed brow. It was not easy to understand what exactly she was thinking. 

Douxie barely hesitated, willy-nilly. He bit his lower lip before answering. "It seems that one of its creatures rebelled against Xia's control over it, seeing her no longer as its Creator, but as a source of sustenance." He still preferred not to go into the grisly details of the found corpse described in the legends. It had been cut open in two and it bled out, with all the internal organs mangled and scattered around her. 

The four teens and the two Trolls showed mild shock as they looked at each other. 

"You said then that the Keeper was believed to be dead?" Asked the Trollhunter, puzzled.

"Yes." Douxie's gaze returned briefly to Archie. "After Xia's death and the return of peace to the magical community of the Asian Continent, there were..." he grimaced. "Various problems. And for unclear reasons he disappeared. He was presumed dead because no one could locate him, and he was not seen again for centuries," a pause. "But apparently, Master Merlin knows where to find him." 

"Mister Magic Man didn't say where , though," Steve said, confused. "I didn't miss the info, did I? I mean, of course, I didn't miss it, he just didn't say it, did he?... Right, guys?"

"He just said we'll get there in three days or so," agreed Claire, thoughtfully, then appearing somewhat annoyed. "Him and his tendency to hide things," she muttered. 

"Always the same for well over nine hundred years," Douxie replied cheerfully, albeit with a hint of acid in his tone, masking it rather well.

********

The first Jump, which made them move from California to Wrangell, an Alaskan town, was particularly heavy. It occurred moments after the Arcane Order had arrived, but before they could begin an attack. 

The warning bell had rung for only two chimes, with Galahad all agitated staring at the horizon whose color changed from dark blue to burgundy red. Then, suddenly, everything that had surrounded them was gone. 

Camelot had moved from a night, cloudy sky to one that was always night, always cloudy —the clouds of which had all blown away at the impact of the air caused by the sudden arrival—but traversed by snowflakes that descended swiftly and decisively. 

As the clouds in the sky cleared, albeit gradually, snow began to fall on the castle walls. The flakes touched the rock for a few seconds before melting, soon replaced by others that either met the same end or managed to hold enough to join the following ones, causing a white layer to form on the ground. 

After the initial moment of total nausea—in which some of them had even vomited their souls out, sowing the contents of their stomachs into the void—the surprise had taken over. 

Steve had made a shrill cry of unrestrained glee, immediately starting to run left and right only to belatedly realize the very low temperature and to enter, still running, shouting "Cold, cold, cold! Bummer, that's so cold !" that had Toby, Jim, Claire, and Blinky burst out laughing—some already indoors, others about to enter.

An amused sound had escaped Aaarrrgh, similar to the noise of a car engine failing to start. Archie had simply sighed, while Douxie had covered a half-laughter with a cough. Then he went to pull the cord of his sweatshirt, tightening the hood around his neck. It was indeed cold. 

"You're in short sleeves, Steve," said Claire, flanking the blond and rolling her eyes with a smirk painted on her face. "You should have seen it coming."

"Yes, but the snow!" He complained, swinging his arms in front of him, the expression of a beaten puppy. 

"There are heavier clothes in the castle. And fur coats." Hisirdoux found himself saying, shrugging and rubbing his hands on his arms, again attracting the attention of those present. He felt all their stares weighing on him. It was weird but at the same time not that much. "They're mostly in the nobles' wardrobe, I think, but I don't think anyone in this castle would say anything about us taking them."

He could have even made them himself, theoretically, but he didn't want to risk using too much magic and running out of it later, perhaps at a desperate moment when he would need them for real. You never knew, especially with the charging times for Jumps. 

Besides, it would have been interesting enough to steal some robes from some past nobleman who had always looked down on him and treated him with scorn, if not worse, not even to the level of a mouse in the kitchen.

"Imagine taking them from Arthur Pendragon," Archie quipped, almost reading—and he probably had. No, he definitely did.— inside his mind. Douxie could not help but smirk at such a comment. He saw some of the Guardians—the ones who hadn't heard Archie speak yet-— open their eyes wide, but he didn't mind. Archie was a talking dragon, yes. They would get used to it. 

Partially, the idea of wearing the embellished, regal robes of the legendary king would have been ridiculous, especially counting the difference in stature between Arthur and anyone in that room. On the other hand, it seemed like a wonderful dose of indirect karma. Douxie saw it as quite necessary, especially for the man's actions and prejudices. And also because of the impact he had had on his people, damaging their view of the magical world. Not that it had not already been bad on its own, but with his support it had been even worse. 

"Oh! Oh! Awesome sauce!" Toby jumped up, excited to say the least, before giving himself a serious tone, almost as if he were suddenly acting, appearing rather funny. "It would be perfect for Count Domzalski." 

"I think it would be best for everyone to put some clothes on, or we risk freezing to death," asserted Jim simply. Douxie agreed. 

"But you're a Troll, you shouldn't feel cold," Steve intervened. 

"Wrong. I'm half Troll at the moment. I do." He shivered. “I totally do.”

"Ah. Right. Well, I want the clothes of the coolest knight ever... Can I also have armor? The coolest one there is. Oh! Better than Lake's!" 

"I don't think that's possible, Steve." By now Claire sounded like an exasperated mother, the kind who was trying to appease her rambunctious child who was embarrassing her in a mall. Her tone made the Trollhunter chuckle. 

"I'm sorry, but she's right," Hisirdoux said. And then smiled, quite amused by the blond boy's expression, especially due to his confirmation.

"There is no other armor like that around. Not without someone already possessing them… not inside Camelot, at least. And the Trollhunter's armor is a creation in itself. Hard to find a better one." Archibald added, adjusting his glasses, still perched on his Wizard's shoulder. Douxie agreed with him by nodding.

After taking yet another look to be sure that everything was all right outside the castle, leaning out just enough to search whatever he could find in the snowy landscape, the raven-haired mage set off. 

He was immediately followed by the others, who were quick and quite chilly. Steve was at the back of the group grumbling muttered words under his breath, still offended. Hisirdoux barely caught a "...It's not fair" but ended up ignoring him soon enough. 

It felt so strange to the wizard to see Camelot again. It had been so long, but it still seemed like it had been yesterday. The castle was always the same—except for the flying part—and it sent him constant flashbacks. 

He only had to let his gaze wander a little and immediately the feeling of déjà-vu took over both his mind and one side of his chest, traced by a mixture of nostalgia, affection, and... tension. A suffocating tension that made him feel his insides twist and the weight of the world increase, making even moving a muscle difficult. Even just breathing at a normal pace without ending up making strange faces was hard. 

Not a new emotion, that one. It had been a constant even after that. It had been especially so after that. Having the appearance of an eternal 19-year-old did not help to protect oneself from the wrongdoers. Having to hide more than just a secret, in addition to his magical powers… well, made it even more complicated.

Douxie brought his hand to the skull necklace without even thinking about it, almost by instinct, as a sour taste seemed to have taken root in his throat. 

He wrinkled his nose, forcing himself to focus on anything else possible, eventually falling back into the dialogue Toby was having, accompanied by Steve's almost exaggerated comments. They were talking about what had happened with the Aliens in town. They had even mentioned the appearance of Colonel Kubritz from Area 49-B. 

Douxie had not met her, fortunately. He had not even seen her in passing. He had done everything to avoid being noticed. He had even decreased his nightly rounds, forcing himself to suppress his Vigilante instincts.

 It had been difficult, almost as difficult as when he had forced himself to quit smoking in 1992… and hadn’t that been torture. It said a lot about his past mental state. But just the idea of becoming a lab rat had restrained him from doing stupid and all too instinctive actions. 

Once it was all over, he, Zoe, and the other undercover mages had been quite elated at the idea that the woman was gone. One of the reasons he and Ashildr had decided to go hunting Niffins. Or they should have, at least. But then Merlin had come back and… he was ditching her. To make matters worse, he still had not warned her about the fact that he was going to miss the meeting. He had forgotten about it. Like he forgot to tell his work boss that he wasn't going to be there for a few days. 

' Fuzzbuckets. '  

If he could have done it without being noticed, he would have facepalmed. 

Zoe was going to be angry. Of course, she would. Especially considering that she was already an easy girl to upset. Perhaps, however, he could find a way to apologize, whatever it was. First, however, he had to send her a message so that she would not commit murder when he returned, not allowing him to explain. 

That is if he had not died first.

' Melodramatic ,' whispered a traitorous little voice in his head. Half of him agreed with her; the other half, the more negative one, did not think it was such an exaggerated possibility. They were always against the Arcane Order, after all. One could never know. 

Archie, following this thought, whacked his tail in his face. Douxie let out a choked noise, just before exclaiming a "Really?" quite loudly, in a tone somewhere between scandalized and shocked. That behind his back led the others to wince and stare at him, taken aback, though he didn't realize it. 

"Stop thinking," said the dragon, without adding anything. He did not need to admonish him more in words; his gaze already said it all. And parts of his thoughts were already pinching his mind, mixed with waves of emotions trying to make him relax. 

He sighed, shaking his head slightly and rolling his eyes. "Yes, Mother Dragon. Hakuna Matata to you too." 

He received another tail right in the face. This time, however, Douxie took almost no notice, expecting a second hit from his familiar and then burst out laughing. 

"Anyway," Archie quipped. "Is it just me or wasn't that room there last time? The one by the statue." 

Douxie sobered up and slid his gaze to its destination, past the marble carving of Arthur Pendragon. He almost stopped in place upon seeing the door, forcing himself to move forward in the process. It was made out of wood, very plain and devoid of decoration, almost basic, but... He didn't remember it there either, just as he didn't remember what might be behind it.

' Huh. So there is something new other than the flying part... '

"No. It's not just you," he said, puzzled. "They must have added it. We'll check it later… and we’re going to see if there's anything in the kitchens for you to eat. I can feel your hunger starting to lodge in my head."

Archie sniffed, "I'm not taking any responsibility."

"Mmmh-mmmh."

 *******

They had all covered themselves with new clothes above the old ones and below the armor and heavy fur coats. Despite the hundreds of years that had passed, these did not smell as old as perhaps they would have expected and were not covered with dust. They were long and warm. 

Claire did not like that they had been taken from real animals, but she could understand that back in the day, there certainly had not been the materials that could be found in the present. And that a pelt could make a difference in who survived and who did not. 

The cape surrounded her shoulders in a silent and very pleasant embrace. All the chills she had previously had were gradually fading. She would have felt in an earthly paradise if she had had the opportunity to drink a Santafereño chocolate, the kind her father had always made her, telling her different stories about her Abuela every single time he had the chance. 

The girl could not help but smile at seeing Jim surrounded by his fur coat. It looked good on him. It gave him a strangely regal air, partly fueled by the Armor and his Troll form, which allowed him to have a rather imposing stature. It was strange to compare him to his human appearance. 

Toby had been the one to take the longest to choose, both in the area of clothes and coats. Some had been too long—so much so that he had been overwhelmed by them and made him risk falling instantly—or a little too tight, but in the end, he had managed to find ones that suited him. 

Steve had taken almost as long as Toby, but for the simple reason that he had too many demands. He had chosen several pieces in that space of time, always grabbing them convinced that they were the best choice of all, only to see new ones and change his mind instantly, having an attitude so exalted as to remind her of a four-year-old.

Douxie, on the other hand, had disappeared briefly, only to return with the spare clothes already on him. In contrast to the blond, he had picked up and put on the first black fur coat that came his way and then lurched to the window. He had stood staring at the falling snow with an unreadable look on his face, his left hand resting on the glass. His familiar camouflaged himself in all the black fur that was already there, so much so that it would have disappeared in it if it were not for the bright color of his eyes and the glasses that were on his nose. 

He seemed to have taken Merlin's order very, very seriously. Claire had noticed, all the way to one of the castle's many checkrooms, he had been almost constantly on the alert, his gaze always traveling in search of the outside. Just seeing him had put tension on her, so much so that she had been unable to follow Toby's entire speech. It reminded her of how helpless she was at the moment, and the feeling was planted in the center of her chest. 

Even at that moment, Blinky, Jim, Toby, Aaarrrgh, and Steve were talking about something, but the girl hardly heard them, being too distracted.

' If only I had my Staff again... ' she thought to herself, not for the first time in those last months. It would have given her more security to have it and made her feel safer just with its reassuring weight in her hands. But she no longer had it and would have to look for another way to defend herself from fear and insecurity. 

She had not been able to find the courage to ask Merlin if there was a way to recover her shadow magic without the Staff. Not after his disapproval in the regard of that same magic because of Morgana. She felt that even trying to ask him would feel like a washout. A way to receive an uncalled admonition and nothing more. 

Asking it to his Apprentice, however, seemed a more valid question already. Of course, she didn't know if Douxie could give her an answer, though... It didn't cost anything to try, right? And she already liked him much more than Merlin. He seemed more down to earth as a person, at least on the surface. She didn't know him well enough to be sure of it, but her guts told her that she could trust him. 

Merlin, on the other hand, constantly put himself on a pedestal and looked down on anyone, a fact that had irritated her far too many times. The feeling had added to the resentment due to him having turned Jim into a half-Troll. Not so much because he was one, for God’s sake, he was still himself after all, not another person...but because Merlin had made him feel as if he had no other choice. He had forced him to become half a Troll as if Jim was not a person with feelings, but a tool for an end. Just the idea bent her stomach in annoyance. 

"I’m sorry to disturb you, but..." she began softly, moving closer and making him look her straight in the eye with an arched eyebrow and a silent question on his face. The entire chatter of the group fell silent almost instantly. "Can I ask you a question?" 

"Sure. No problem. Ask away." He replied, casting a glance at Archie, who immediately set his gaze on the window. The boy even nodded to invite her to talk. She smiled at him, then, after a couple of seconds, explained the situation. 

"Do you think there is another way? Another Staff or… any other tool that would allow me to use magic?" was thus her final, somewhat hopeful question, as her own hands went to clutch the fur coat with quite a bit of agitation. If she ended up receiving a no as an answer, she was going to be disappointed, but she would have to take it. That didn't change that the idea made her feel a little nervous. She wasn’t like Toby or Jim. Real weapons were not her thing. 

Hisirdoux arched an eyebrow and the answer was not long in coming. "Sure. There are plenty of magical artifacts, both in Camelot and outside Camelot..." Claire rejoiced internally, the reassurance causing her to sigh. She felt so relieved! "...Though, honestly, I think you'd be able to use it even without one of them."

"Huh?" The girl, for a moment, thought she had misunderstood what he had said. 

"You used Morgana Le Fay’s Staff and with it, you were able to create portals easily," asserted the wizard, tilting his head. "And yes, many people might be able to use amulets or magical channelers to cast spells. But the magical aura is not present in those who take advantage of the ability of enchanted objects. Not for a long time, at least. A week at most and it would disappear into thin air if they stopped using it," he moved away from the window, taking a few steps forward, his arms tucked behind his back. "I can hear yours loud and clear."

Claire gasped. "What..." a billion questions ran through her head, but only one escaped her lips, the easiest to express, but also the one that confused her the most "...Hearing?"

Douxie brought a hand behind his neck, wrinkling his nose. "Yes, hearing. The magic perceptions in other bodies can be received through one or more of the five senses... Hearing and sight are mine, but the second one gives me a little bit of trouble." He stopped short in his speech as if noticing something. "Not important. Anyway, the thing is… that if you compulsorily needed a magic item, I wouldn't hear anything around you counting how long it's been since you last used the Shadow Staff. But your melody is there, so..." the boy left the sentence incomplete, shrugging and putting his hands inside his pockets. 

The missing conclusion was easily understood, however, and made Claire feel a warm chill run down her entire spine. 

"So what should I do?" She asked after a long moment of silence, determined to get to work as soon as possible. The chance to recover her magic ignited a new dose of determination inside her. The small flame she had previously had grew larger as if fueled by stumps of wood or branches. 

"Look for the Shadowmancy book, for starters. It should be either in Merlin's study or in Morgana's rooms. Either one. The second option is the most likely… assuming Galahad or some other knight hasn't moved it, but I doubt it."

"If they did, Merlin would end up giving them a huge scolding. Can you imagine?" Archibald blurted out. "That would be fun to watch."

"Sadistic little imp." Douxie grinned anyway.

Chapter Text

TRACK 2

I've been watching, I've been waiting

In the shadows for my time

I've been searching, I've been living

For tomorrow all my life

Lately, I've been walking, walking in circles

Watching, waiting for something

( In the shadows - The Rasmus)

********

Before reaching Morgana's rooms, the group made a quick stop in the kitchens. They were deserted: of Arthur's past servants, there was not even a shadow. Kind of like there had been no presence around the castle of any other people except Galahad. No soldiers in the flesh, only enchanted armors lurking in the corners. 

Archie took advantage of this to steal a lamb rib hanging from the ceiling. He cooked it with a blaze and instantly took to devouring it. It was a little flavorless, as it lacked the spices to which his palate had become accustomed, but that was fine. There had been worse dinners.  

Douxie, on the other hand, noted with mild concern that there was very little food compared to the norm. The pantry was not as well stocked as usual, it was almost empty. There were barely twelve servings of food, which certainly was not enough for all of them. Figures an entire staff and the Round Table’s knights.

He, then, realized two things. 

It was obvious that there was so little food. It was not a matter of time or the like. Camelot, had it not been for them, could have been called a ghost castle. No one was left of the people he had met, except for the Knight most closely associated with Merlin. It was weird to think about it, but it was the truth. 

Between shifts, they would have had to go ashore at least once or they would have ended up starving. And yes, Douxie tended at times to skip meals out of haste or lack of hunger, albeit provoking his familiar's anger, but in this case, he knew he had to be at full strength, as the Guardians of Arcadia had to be. No food meant no energy. 

The second thing…

"Oh, it's going to be a disaster tomorrow," he said, his voice low and hurt, almost slapping himself while saying it. 

A "What?", a "What's going to be a disaster?" and a "What do you mean?" rose practically in chorus. 

Archie, reading inside his mind, made a hoarse sound, then returned to the rib with a voracious attitude. 

"...The coffee is missing," he said mournfully. 

There was a moment of silence. Then Toby burst into hysterical, very loud, laughter. 

"Priorities," muttered the dragon. "With your addiction, that's all I expected from you."

*******

Claire found the Shadowmancy volume between her hands so quickly that it almost seemed as if it had magically appeared. It hadn't, of course, she had gone looking for it... but one moment she hadn't had it, not even knowing what it might look like, and the next it was there, the cover visible. 

She hadn't opened it yet, but she was clutching it to her chest as if the book was about to disappear. It was almost smooth under her fingertips, but not quite. It was externally crisscrossed with squiggles that decorated it and had a slight thickness on which her fingers ended up lingering, following their paths. 

They had left the Mother of Monsters' room as quickly as they could. Just entering it had been terrifying, though it had turned out to be a more or less normal environment. But the mere idea of remaining in the chambers of the one who had taken over her body, trapping her in the Shadow Realm, had caused her to want to avoid staying there for longer than was necessary, making her feel uncomfortable. 

Probably sensing her tension, Jim laid a hand on her shoulder, smiling openly. Blush spread across her cheeks and she smiled back, grateful for the support. 

They were returning to the room where Merlin had explained the master plan, taking the same route, but in the opposite direction, to also reach the mysterious door that the Wizard and his Familiar had been eyeing. 

"Has Zoe answered you yet?" Archibald murmured to Douxie, always leading the group, always looking outward, at the same time that Steve was moaning about the illegal amount of stairs in the castle. A fact in which he wasn’t wrong. How many were there? And how the heck so many rooms and hallways were in that castle? Sure, it was huge, so the large amount was proportional to the size… But really? And then it was all so freaking identical! How the raven-haired boy and the dragon could orient themselves so well was a mystery. 

He looked at his phone "No." he replied, in much the same tone of voice. "And honestly, I'm already dreading when she's going to do it. I’m probably going to make you read it instead." After a slight smile, he said something Claire could not hear well, being overshadowed by the blond boy who shrieked suddenly. 

Claire would have liked to criticize him for the loud noise but paused to see how he was being passed through from side to side by a semi-transparent blackbird with neon green hues. Taking a good look at it, the girl noticed what looked like a half-rolled parchment clutched in its beak.

The bird, devoid of substance, immediately flew between them. Then it stopped, flapped its wings a couple of times on the spot, and disappeared in a cloud of smoke, leaving only the roll of parchment, also initially without substance, but which then took shape, falling back to the ground. Jim rushed to grab it, somewhat interested in seeing its contents. 

"The next Jump is estimated in four hours..." he read, struggling because of the complicated writing—or it was better to say scribbled, so much so that it made the handwriting of some doctor envious—and the very small size of the words. "Pr... Prepare guard shifts immediately. Nari and I will stay in my studio for a while. In case of trouble, I will send another sentry." The last part was so badly written that Jim frowned. "I don't know what it says here."

They all leaned over to see at the same time. 

"The last word seems to be ' windows ,' if I'm not mistaken," Blinky said, thinning all six eyes. 

"Mr. Magic Man is telling us to pay attention to what's beyond the windows. Easy, buttsnacks ." Said Steve. "We're not stupid, he didn't need to add that. He didn't even need to order us to take turns on watch!"

"I don't think that it's that," Claire retorted. Of course, he might have written it, since Merlin Ambrosius at times seemed to see them only as a bunch of dumb teens who either had to be taken by the hand or he directly said nothing to them, doing everything on his own. 

"It's not." Confirmed Archie, leaning over his Wizard's shoulder, adjusting his glasses, and waving his tail. "It's more of a..." 

" By morning cover the windows," completed Douxie, perhaps unintentionally imitating the Master's voice as he said it. The dragon merely nodded and asserted a soft "Yes."

"Oh. That's… Here the sunlight will come streaming in," she realized, her gaze shifting very quickly from Aaarrrgh to Blinky to Jim. Agitation mixed with terror began to run through her at the horrifying image of one of the three turning to stone. Especially Jim. 

"I'll take care of it," Merlin's Apprentice immediately offered, resuming the path at a much faster pace than before, leading them to speed up in turn so as not to risk losing sight of him. It would have been hell finding their way back without a guide who knew which way to go. They really would have been lost within a couple of minutes. "Everything's under control. No problem."

"Of course, he could write a tad better..." commented Toby shortly afterward. "Not even Nana has ever written like that."

"Be thankful it's readable," said Archie with an amused expression. “He could write a tad better, yes, but he could also write a lot worse.” He gave Douxie a slight head butt, rubbing up against him with a look of blatant complicity. The boy made a weird face in response, returning the same look.

“When he had written us the ingredients for the potion it was more understandable than that," asserted Jim, more to himself than anything else. 

"For ingredients, he has to think about it more. For giving orders… let's say it takes less. To start saying or writing roasting comments, he almost doesn't." Concluded the dragon. 

Well. As a piece of information, it said a lot about him. And it wasn't shocking at all. But like, not even in the slightest. It would have been surprising if it wasn't. 

Between randomly loud chatting, laughter, and smiles, they were back at the door with the statue at its side in no time. Douxie and Archie immediately approached it but stopped before opening it. 

"I hope Master Merlin won't scream at me in ancient Greek if there is something strange behind it that we should not have seen," he commented in a low voice. 

"If it was something like that, there would be a strong locking spell on the door to block our entrance."

"...True."

"Do you hear it?" 

"No."

"Then you have your answer. You may enter."

Douxie turned the knob, opening the door. 

But then, he practically entered only halfway, stopping in the middle of it, paralyzing on the spot and then blocking the view, perhaps from shock. 

"Of all the possible scenarios, I didn't expect this one," he said in a surprised, almost breathless tone. And he slipped inside quietly, avoiding elaborating his comment. 

When Claire crossed the threshold, following Jim and Toby, she was confronted with something that left her gaping and gasping like a fish out of water. 

An "Oh wow" escaped her mouth. She had not expected it either. She had imagined perhaps another bedroom… or perhaps any kind of parlor. Not such a view. Just no.

The room in front of them looked like something between a Japanese spa and a school swimming pool, but with more than two pools in it and a floor that looked like it was made of bamboo. And it probably was, too. Then there were various plants climbing along the walls, subspecies of fireflies dancing in the air, and what looked like small stone nymphs from which little waterfalls of hot water slid out, causing steam. 

Everything looked extremely sophisticated, so much so that it almost seemed out of place. As if they had teleported somewhere else with getting through the door. Kind of like there had been one of her portals. 

"Public toilets. Better than a bowl and a square wooden tub."

"Oh yeah, that's for sure." Douxie ended up coughing a bit. "Anything's better than that..." he paused with a lost expression as if he was seeing something invisible to their eyes "It's Nari's artwork," he said, with blatant admiration painted in his voice. 

Claire then looked at Jim as well, almost by instinct. In turn, his gaze was rather strange. Almost devoured by emptiness and a hint of distress that managed to peep through only for a few seconds. It was fixed on one of the tubs with something obsessive about it. Toby noticed it almost at the same time as her. 

Both of them reached out to him, resting their hands on his shoulders, making him wince slightly. 

"Everything okay, Jimbo?" Asked Toby, extremely serious. 

Jim blinked a few times as if he had just awakened from a long dream or a trance. "Yes, don't worry about it," he replied, hinting at a smile, although it came out rather strained and wrong . Which was certainly not reassuring. Not at all. On the contrary, it worried Claire even more. 

"You can talk to us," she found herself saying, staring him straight in the eye. "Whatever it is, we'll listen."

Toby confirmed, nodding quickly. The Trolls, though the girl did not notice them, having all her attention on her boyfriend, did the same, also by voice. Steve was strangely and uncharacteristically silent. The other two, having sensed the change of mood, were observing the situation, but standing a little farther away than the others, as if to respect their privacy, casting small glances at each other in between. 

"It's nothing, really. I just remembered something." The answer was very vague. Perhaps a little too much so. 

Claire sighed. Insisting was not going to help. Not with him. Jim could be stubborn at times, especially when it came to keeping people away from what he saw as his problems.

But Claire wished she could have helped him in some way. He should have let it all out, not kept it all inside. He didn't have to suffer in silence as if it was necessary, as if talking would cause them all to look at him differently. 

"It's okay, Jimbo. If you're not ready, we understand," Toby said again, but in a hushed voice, "But if you ever need to talk about it, we're here." This time it was Claire's turn to nod. 

Then the two of them went to hug him in complete silence.

*******

Jim had tried to ignore it. 

He had played it cool, but both Toby and Claire had seen through his facade without any problems. And he had been extremely grateful for their desire to help him. Their support was worth more than any treasure. However... 

He didn't know how to explain to them that staring at a simple bathtub brought to his mind black water and a slow drowning, while something about him had seemed to be ripped out of him, piece by piece, only to be spat out of it with an internal agony—almost imperceptible in the beginning, but which had made itself felt later in an insistent way, to say the least—and with a different face than the one that had been his for sixteen years, but which at this point was no longer. 

That something that had been taken from him continued to be missing, causing what felt like an empty hole in his body. Jim did not know if it was his humanity—not the psychological side of humans. It was in the sense of belonging. In the texture of his skin. In the taste of food—or something else, but whatever it was, he missed it terribly. 

So he had limited himself to hide the damage, putting it off until later . A later that he hoped would never come, letting his mind seek distraction in more positive thoughts: in what he had achieved, in his being glad to be loved by his mother, by Toby, Claire, Blinky, Aaarrrgh, and everyone who had ever been close to him. 

It was so easy to do that. So much so that it felt wrong at times, but he was okay with it anyway. It was because of the Troll form that he had been able to defeat Gunmar. It was always thanks to it that he was alive. And his mind—except for little dark moments that jumped up in the dumbest way ever—had not changed. He wasn't going to let a few simple, harmless bathtubs get him down. It was a ridiculous thing. 

' They're nothing but objects .' he said to himself ' And I'm not in the same situation. This looks like a vacation in comparison .' 

' They are nothing but objects. ' he repeated, more confident than before. ' There is nothing to fear, they have no life of their own. They are not even so deep that you risk drowning in them. There is no point in being afraid of them .' 

The thought instantly held him back, leading him to look at Blinky, receiving the Troll's gentle, fatherly smile. 

' ...But having it is also not a mistake. Fear is the precursor to valor. '

He relaxed almost completely, smiling in turn. 

But still, to the last, he ended up looking at the tanks one more time, trying to ignore the mental image of the water darkening to inky black, this before shaking his head and leaving the room behind with the others. 

Claire squeezed his left hand. Toby remained to his right, a constant presence.

*******

When they reached the predetermined destination, Douxie started to make a mental diagram of the situation as quickly as possible. The number of rooms in the castle, those they were likely to use and those they would not, the total number of windows he would have to cover with dark curtains—the darkest and most substantial possible to keep the sun from coming in—The fire coming from the torches to still allow a better view and to avoid killing themselves just by moving a few inches... 

' One thing at a time .' Archie told him, cracking the heavy blanket of his thoughts, making him realize that he had already started approaching the easternmost wall anyway. 

He had put aside the ' don't use your magic because of the risk of running dry in a desperate situation .' That could have become a desperate situation if he had not taken action. 

And yes, he could have set out to find a cloth to cover the windows, but besides the simple fact that it would have taken him a long time to find just the right amount, he was in no mood to go back to running around Camelot like Merlin's errand boy . A nickname he was highly sick of after hearing it hundreds of times, accompanied by a derisive tone. Just like a couple of others that had been given to him over the past few centuries, albeit devoid of the heavy malice. 

More to the point, some were mispronounced through translation errors. He didn't even like them that much in the correct version. He was Douxie. Nothing more, nothing less.

A nickname given by status, provenance, or miscalculation did not define him. But if he had to choose between those nicknames and the terms he received even before he knew wizards like him existed… he preferred the weird, wrong nicknames hands down.  

He ran the runes under his fingers to find the right ones. He could hear his melody trembling in anticipation, ready to slide out into a song with a solid, calm rhythm, with the notes calling to each other through chords. There were no pauses. There were not going to be. Interruptions inside the song could screw up the result of the spell. 

To make it even more stable, he allowed himself to be gripped by the tranquility that only music granted him. He ended up humming under his breath, following the sound and at the same time being followed by it. Then, having found the correct runes, he leaned the center of his palm against the wall, sensing its coolness even through his gloves. 

He then closed his eyes. His magical aura rose in volume with the release of the spell and seemed to almost flicker around him before exploding into the rock in a musical uproar. It rose and fell, moved along the supporting wall, and went splitting, darting around and tingling the air with its sound. If he had also used Sight and not just Hearing, his esoteric eye would have seen his light blue magic dancing slowly, being carried everywhere, tracing pattern-like grooves that repeated again and again in a kind of not-so-dense web. 

The hand that wasn't resting on the wall had something like a spasm, the need to grab the electric guitar and strum began to make itself be felt… a bit like the slight fatigue that grew more and more as he gave up some of his energy. As uncomplicated as this magic was, it was the extent to which he was taking it that was bothering him a bit. Not anything else. It still wasn't enough to drain him, thankfully. 

When he opened his eyes, however, the mild tired feeling was replaced by the satisfaction that he had done a pretty good job. The long curtains and blue flames that lit up the area—reminiscent of wisps...though they were powered by the torches and thus did not twirl and float—were witness to some of his effort. If he went back to run around specific sides of the castle, he would attest the rest.

Someone was talking at that moment. Douxie blinked, confused, his mind empty and at the same time clouded by the still-present humming of the soft melody, such that he struggled to focus on anything else. He saw the figures in front of him moving their lips, but it was as if he had earplugs in his ears. 

He knew something was wrong when everyone turned in his direction to stare at him, not just Archie, remaining tight-lipped, saying no more. As if they were expecting an answer from him. 

Fortunately, it did not take long for his general hearing to recover, realizing that the ringtone of his cell phone had gone off. He hurriedly grabbed it, muttering a " Pardon me ." and began to move away from the group, albeit not by too much, letting himself slip outside the room, totally into the open air. Using the runes, he hastily created an umbrella to avoid getting exaggerated amounts of snow on himself, causing a funny little tune. 

' Call from Zoe ' was the text flashing on his phone screen, as Blackout by Solence continued to play in the background. Nervous laughter escaped him, then, moving the phone as far away from his ear as possible, he went to press the open call button

" Hisirdoux Casperan !" shouted Ashildr from the other end of the line, so loud that he could hear it perfectly even without the speakerphone. 

' That's it. Here we go again ,' he thought. ' I won't get any particular earful from Merlin today. At least I hope not. But from her? Fuzz me, yes.'

"Hi, Zoe. How's it going in there?" 

" You ditched me, motherfucking asshole! " She retorted angrily, blatantly ignoring his question. " What's supposed to mean to me the bloody 'Forgive me, Zoe, I can't come. Urgent commitment in progress.' message? You couldn't be any more fucking vague! What the hell! " 

"Yes, I know. Sorry. I didn't do it on purpose. You know how times are these days... Full of surprises..." he brought his hand up to his neck, letting his fingers thread through the strands of hair, barely pulling them. Archie growled, making him stop immediately. "Merlin is back."

He heard her freeze from whatever sentence she probably would have said if Douxie had not inserted the last part into his speech. " Did your boss show up? Sheesh… Of course, he did. We have some time to breathe after the near apocalypse and he comes along like a bird of ill omen. Typical. "

Douxie smiled. "Well. Right now we're inside Camelot. Flying over Alaska."

" Congratulations. You'll catch pneumonia pretty quickly. "

He chuckled, leaning his chest against one of the battlements and looking ahead of him. “Yeah…”

" I'm not joking. If you're going to be a bastard, leaving me totally alone to hunt Niffins, at least get decently dressed. "

"Already done," a pause, in which he frowned, "Don't treat me like a child."

" You are an eternal child, Casperan. "

"An eternal teenager, you mean," he retorted mildly irritated. 

" Child ." she insisted. He rolled his eyes, staring at the sky.

"Oh, shut up." Zoe laughed on the other end of the line. "Anyway, what about your girlfriend?" 

" ... Too busy on her trip to Greece for my liking. She sent me like three hundred pictures of the beach and another two hundred of food she ordered from the restaurant. "

Douxie burst out laughing. "Buckets’, that’s her."

" She didn't send you anything? " 

"Voice recordings, a few videos, and…yes, a few photos. But not that many, fortunately. My phone memory would have imploded otherwise."

Zoe let silence fall in the conversation, then murmured " Just know that when you go back to Arcadia I'll still beat your ass. You won't get away with it. Idiot. "

"Yes. Okay. Not too hard though, thank you. I'd be careful not to bruise my face for two whole days or more." He joked

" As if your wounds wouldn't disappear at unnatural speed even for a wizard ," she blurted out, vaguely annoyed, before falling silent again for a couple of seconds " ...Be careful, Douxie, alright?... " Her tone of voice had become demonstrably lower and strained, so much so that it caught him off guard " And you, Archie… I know you're listening… Stop him from whatever bullshit he’s probably going to come up with."

She closed the call before he or his Familiar could respond to her. Hisirdoux sighed. A wave of icy air current crashed over him, causing him to barely shiver. And to hurry back inside, albeit casting a glance at his surroundings and at the flakes that were coming down even faster than before. He made the umbrella disappear once after reaching a covered spot, banging the toecap of his shoes against the rock to remove the snow from their soles. In no time he was thus back in the room. 

Some of the Guardians of Arcadia were standing, others had let themselves fall back into chairs. Steve, almost as if afflicted with ADHD, wandered from side to side continuously while staring at whatever thing caught his eye. Just looking at him made him feel exhausted, to say the least. He had no idea what internal batteries that guy had. Still, he stopped himself when he noticed he was back.

"Who was it? Your girlfriend?" The blond asked. Douxie let slip a weirded-out—and slightly disgusted—expression just at the thought. To him, she was practically a sister. A romantic relationship with her seemed almost like incest. Not that he was interested in having one, to be honest. Not with the way he was. He merely responded to Steve with a quick shake of his head. 

"Friend? Relative? Work boss? Dogsitter? Ok, no, you have a cat. Or do you have both?" 

Douxie arched his eyebrow. "Member of my Band and Technomancer Witch." 

"Techno-what?"

He simply sighed.

Chapter Text

TRACK 3 

Your secrets keep you sick, your lies keep you alive

Snake eyes every single time you roll with crooked dice

I felt the darkness as it tried to pull me down

The kind of dark that haunts a hundred year old house

I wrestle with my thoughts, I shook the hand of doubt

Running from my past, I'm praying feet don't fail me now

(The Drug in Me Is You -Falling in Reverse)

******** 

The rest of the night was heavy and slow for Douxie. There had been the division of guard shifts, but despite these, which authorized him to let fatigue grip him, he could not close his eyes.  He had tried, but being surrounded by people prevented him from doing so. He felt alert even though he did not want to be. Unfortunately, the need to be defensive was die-hard, so much so that it seemed an insurmountable obstacle. 

He had even tried to lie down, closing his eyes, but every single noise kept activating a side of his brain that he thought he had long since abandoned. All it took was a rustle, a light snore, someone's cadenced breathing, a swallow, and… And he could feel the danger building up and trapping his breath in his throat as his heartbeat proceeded at an abnormal pace. It too was making far too much noise. 

Archie was silent against his belly. A solid, reassuring presence for him. The only one he wanted near while feeling so helpless. The only one who allowed him to let his guard down. Even so, even with his fingers running repeatedly through his fur gently, it still was not enough. 

There was too much of everything . Really. The overstimulation running through him was devastating, so much so that it was unbearable. 

Too many people he didn't know so well that he had grown accustomed to them in his living space—and their age, to his mind, was unimportant. It was not important, that these people would not hurt a fly if they could. It was a chance that had thrown them into battle. The Amulet had made his choice. If he had not chosen Jim Lake Junior, neither he, Toby, Claire, nor Steve would have been there at the moment.

Too much noise . It made his ears ring. He could have tried to cover it up with loud music, attaching headphones to his cell phone, but he feared missing something important. He feared not hearing a suspicious noise. Or the castle alarm bell. His mind didn’t even suggest the possibility of putting on only one of the two headphones. 

Too much oppression . Oppression that sent his mind spinning through a spiral of past images, none of them pleasant. Which then made him feel every millimeter of clothes on him and the choker tighten much more than the norm. They led him to remember fingers touching his bare back before aggressively planting the blade in his flesh, dragging it slowly. Just the sensation made his eyes burn, but he started pulling strands of his hair back and forth. He refused to fall into an emotional breakdown at any moment in a situation like that. It would have been pathetic, shameful, and inappropriate. 

Too much need to get up and change the air before it began to seem poisonous in his lungs, making him feel as if he were dying. As if his internal organs were rapidly wearing out.

Everything was too much. A too much that was out of tune, that put his essence in such disarray that his magic was restless. He felt unstable, to say the least. Archibald was the main reason why his upper limbs had not yet begun to tremble intermittently, dragging other parts of his body along. 

When it arrived, he felt the Jump in its entirety—maybe because of his exaggerated state of alertness—exactly after the four hours that Master Merlin had estimated, a fact witnessed on the screen of his phone. 

His stomach turned over like a sack of potatoes as if it was doing somersaults. He managed not to vomit only because of his self-control and his insistence on staring at the ceiling as if this were a lifeline. 

But he was not the only one who sensed the movement of the castle. Those who had managed to fall asleep had woken up startled. Some more, some less green in their face. Steve had even fallen out of his chair, making a thud so loud that Archie jerked up.

His Familiar, who had not previously awakened, but was brought back to the present by the very sudden noise, hissed at him with an irritated expression. He calmed down thanks to the gentle caresses left by his Wizard—aimed mainly between his shoulder blades—and to the blond boy's murmured, partly plaintive and sleepy "... Sorry ,". 

But after the Jump, it had taken most of them a really short time to collapse back into dreamland, allowing themselves to be lulled into stillness. Douxie had been almost envious of them. 

Except for Aaarrrgh, who had been on watch, and Hisirdoux himself, only Jim had lost his sleep, ending up sitting in a slightly less messy position than before, near the window, peeking past the curtains. 

The shifting of the fabric then caused lazy, faint rays of moonlight to cross the room, stretching out like white fingers, illuminating the outlines of objects and of the group itself with something extremely ghostly. 

Ten minutes later, not quite able to fall asleep anymore, Jim ended up asking the Troll for an exchange of shifts. Aaarrrgh had agreed, albeit tentatively for unclear reasons. And so it was just the two of them left, both of them silent to avoid returning to wake their companions. 

Douxie, still lying down, had been partly tempted by the idea of getting up and going to check out the scenery outside just like Jim had done, to see how different it was from the one before. But Archie, still leaning on his ribcage, prevented him from doing so. And in his heart, Douxie did not want to move him. He couldn't. His momentary sanity hung entirely on his Familiar; to take it away would have been stupid. 

Instead, Jim continued to sit, casting glances at his surroundings and outside. Hisirdoux felt his gaze settle on him twice. The first was ignored: he pretended not to feel it, knowing that his interest would shift shortly. 

But then the second had come, and he had not been able to refrain from turning his head, meeting the boy's blue eyes. Eyes that flinched a bit as a result of that encounter, but that remained on him, staring at him with a furrowed brow for several seconds. 

That expression confused him somewhat, but it distracted him from the chaos churning in the recesses of his brain. When the silent exchange stopped, Hisirdoux's attention returned to the wall above his head, almost mechanically. 

There was nothing special about it, but he had missed those high ceilings. 

His apartment in Arcadia Oaks, those in the other cities he had been in—and in which he had always felt like a passing ghost, sensing weight on him.  Weight from not existing for anyone seriously. To the idea that everyone would grow old inexorably before fading away like stars in the sky, while he would continue to exist, to remain the same. Always the same little boy, frightened by the feeling of futility and emptiness, observing a world that on specific days seemed devoid of color. The routine was an addition to the torture that was the cauldron of filth he sensed under his skin in those hours of cosmic nothingness—and the containment rooms had always been airless rooms, with roofs so excruciatingly low that he felt unwieldy as if he was taking up too much space.

And yes, he was tall, but he wasn't that tall. While on physical structure, he was not surprised by the fact that he could see his ribs. Still, the idea of being too much, of having to make himself smaller, had always crossed his mind during transfers. 

Whether they arrived in the early days or the middle of his stay did not change much. It was like a flea in his ear that persisted in making its presence known, a bit like the strong nostalgia that gripped him at times, reminding him of faces, places, and events he might not have thought about in years. 

But with such high roofs, his perception of space was distorted enough to allow him to feel right-sized. Of course, as if closing a door necessarily opened the bigger one, it was replaced by the feeling of alertness, always lurking. Always there, making sleep an impossible goal for him. 

He started to fiddle with his skeleton necklace, sliding it around his neck and counting each back-and-forth in his head, trying to keep himself busy, while his second hand was back in Archibald's fur, drawn by its softness and the warmth it gave off, without moving it. It was enough to hold it there, to feel the calm beat of his Familiar's heart under his fingers. He compared it with his own, which, on the other hand, was beating with a rhythm similar to the running of a crazy horse, but that was, fortunately, slowing down gradually.

********

Morning came, and with it came Merlin and Nari. The Trollhunter did not see them enter the room, but he heard Merlin shaking him awake before he started to walk away—not by much, but still showing his back to him and preparing to leave, waiting for him to follow—making him realize that he had dozed off on guard duty, though he had no idea when exactly. 

Just the thought made him blush, embarrassed, but he stopped thinking about it rather quickly upon seeing a hand, covered by a glove, extended in his direction to help him to his feet. He accepted it without a second thought, feeling his legs particularly cold. If they had been his human legs, he was sure they would have been numb and tingling at that moment, not even being run through by hundreds of insects climbing up and down. 

"Thank you," he said, a bit rigidly. He held back a yawn and again met the golden gaze of Merlin's Apprentice, just as he had the night before. Noticing, however, a green tinge in the iris near the pupil, just then.

"You're welcome," he replied. Then after he was probably sure he was holding himself up and not in danger of slipping, he hurried to stand beside his Master. Jim frowned and forced himself to do the same, noticing, however, that the others in the group were still asleep. For a moment he wondered if it would be okay to wake them up, but the hours on his cell phone put him off. It was barely dawn. Forcing them to get up so early seemed improper.

Once he slipped out of the room, he found himself standing in front of the same hallway he had walked down the previous day. It looked different with all the windows present covered by Prussian blue curtains and with blue flames as light sources. 

Jim could not help but cast another glance at the raven-haired boy as he advanced, following the trio. He did not have the dragon on his shoulder this time. He wasn’t there at all, not around them. 

"When did you make these?" He asked, pointing at the curtains, being close enough to the other to be heard without having to raise his voice too much. "And where is your Familiar?" 

Douxie blinked a few times, the dark circles under his eyes somewhat accentuated by the slight movement "Archie's out scouting... And all the blinds around, well, I made them yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Jim paused, suddenly connecting everything and widening his eyes. "Wait... I thought you just made one. "

He shrugged, opening his mouth to say something, but being interrupted by Merlin as soon as he tried. 

"A bit too amateurish, Hisirdoux," said the old man dryly. "Doing one at a time would have made your spell more polished and efficient." 

The raven-haired boy frowned and gave a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "The important thing was that the windows were covered, or am I wrong...? I thought speeding up the process, preferring quantity over quality was a good choice, especially in this situation." To Jim, he wasn't wrong. They were curtains. They covered what had to be covered. Wasn't that enough? By the old Sorcerer's expression, it looked like a ' no'. 

Merlin huffed, ready to retort. But it was Nari's turn to intervene, blocking the long sour criticism that the man would surely have spat out all too easily. 

"I don't think they're bad," she said matter-of-factly in a squeaky silver voice. The little demigoddess appeared almost like a child beside the Sorcerer. 

More because of her height than anything else, for there was something that set her apart, something that Jim would not have been able to describe even if he wanted to...and it was not her appearance—although having a body composed of leaves, flowers, branches, and small roots certainly made its impact. It wasn't something you saw every day. Maybe it was the singular light that shone in her gaze. Perhaps it was that bizarre bearing of hers. Perhaps, again, it was just her in her entirety that gave him a feeling of the ancient and primal.

"Their essence is pure and fresh. The intentions, right," she concluded with a soft gentle smile. 

The compliment caught Douxie off guard, bringing him then—to Jim's utter surprise. Not that he hadn't already had several surprises in the past twenty-four hours—to blush even at the tips of his ears. That was before he smiled in turn and brought his hand to his neck. "I..." he coughed "... Thank you." 

'Huh. Didn't seem the type to get embarrassed over a compliment.' 

The Sorcerer made no comment this time. And the silence fell back, though not for long. In fact, they reached Merlin's study, the table of which was covered with various scrolls, books that had already been opened, and gemstones, connected by thin pieces of metal. These at times seemed to pulsate faintly, for reasons totally unknown to Jim. 

One of the scrolls on the table, the largest, was occupied by a map. There were Continents, marked by cities he had never read before on the map, a disturbing fact—Den… Denprop… Dnepropetrovsk? Did it exist? Really?—Some of them, anyway, were larger in size than others. And not by a small amount. Jim would have expected the inscription 'Russia' to be larger than 'Petersburg,' but it wasn’t. 

Another scroll showed instead a drawing of an unknown flower. Not that Jim had been particularly knowledgeable about plants, but that didn't mean anything, not in this case. The sketch depicted a specific specimen with an odd shape. It was reminiscent of an Orchid, but at the same time, the petals were far too detached from each other, almost square. As if it were a butterfly, but much more geometric than those that already appeared in the children's drawings. 

Next to it, there was an unreadable inscription, to say the least. Kind of like the ones he had seen in Claire’s Shadowmancy book—Oh, Claire. She had appeared so depressed while flipping through the pages of that volume… He wished he could have helped her, but he knew as much as she did, if not less...and staring at the illustrations was not enough to understand, nor to give her suggestions—they were just signs in his eyes. Not letters. He wondered for a moment if for all the people who spoke different languages, which were not written in alphabet letters but perhaps in pictographic language, English appeared in the same way. 

"That's a Phalaenopsis aphrodite," Nari said suddenly, probably noticing his confusion. She said it as if just the name alone made everything clear, which was not true, but it was still better than nothing. "She is in her Purification state." 

"Purification state?" He asked, confused, looking into her eyes. 

"Magic, for Asian people, is essentially divided into two strands." Said Merlin "Just like what we have. Only it has different Names. Bái mófǎ is pure magic and Wugu, dark magic. By Purification state, Nari means that the Phalaenopsis has been enchanted, Trollhunter."

"Oh." Jim stared at the drawing for quite a long time. "Why cast a spell on a flower?" 

"Plants, like other living beings and a few objects, have Cores." Explained Nari, making a small Daisy appear in her hands. "Some have meanings that humans can interpret. Others remain misunderstood. The more the meaning is understood and embraced, the more their Core accumulates energy." A pause. "Phalaenopsis are from the Orchid family. Orchids are seen as plants of perfection and spiritual closeness. They are symbols of love and hope."

"The ideals that rest on them can be strong enough to create portals to other dimensions. But such results are only mastered whenever the wizard offers something of themselves in return." Concluded Merlin.

Douxie seemed to light up suddenly, looking a tad bit younger. Almost childish. "....Reason why the Keeper of Balance would not be locatable. He ignited the flower fulcrum to isolate himself and not be reached by anyone he does not want to meet."

"Exactly." Replied the old Sorcerer. "Dalai, before he disappeared, left me this drawing, saying that if I wanted to look for him, I should have followed that plant. And with Nari's knowledge, we found its precise location."

'So he didn't know where he was? Is that why he hadn't said anything before? ’ Jim found himself thinking in disbelief. 

"What did he offer?" Jim asked instead

"That, I wouldn't know."

'Oh, yeah. He wasn't there to know. That was a stupid thing to ask.'

"Where would he be?" questioned Hisirdoux in an intrigued tone, his interest fully painting his gaze. 

Merlin's hand went to rest on the map. Both Jim and Douxie leaned out to see where he was pointing. 

"Laos." He read. Not a name that told Jim anything. But which other than Shanghai did? Excluding even Hong Kong and generic famous cities? None. 

"So... The exact time to get there...?" Asked Douxie, snapping his head back up. "We're going to pass through an inhabited city, aren't we? We need to fill the storage."

"It's always three days. It’s precise, counting today." A pause. "Camelot will have to stop here..." He pointed to the town of Anadyr. "Here." The Shantar Islands. "And here." Shenyang. "Then it will reach Laos. We are currently in Noatak," he pointed to the city on the map "You will have plenty of time to shop if that pressures you."

"It's not a matter of pressure, Master… I mean, it is too, but it's not just that. Twelve food rations divided for seven people…for three days or more of travel?" Jim winced slightly. He saw his point of view on the matter. It didn't look good. 

"I can help," asserted Nari, making a tomato plant appear out of nowhere, which immediately left Jim open-mouthed and Douxie with both eyebrows arched. 

"Uhh... Okay , I hadn't calculated that detail," muttered the raven-haired boy after a few seconds. "That's much better, then."

"Steve would still be able to moan about it. I don't think he appreciates vegetables," Jim retorted instead by instinct. It didn't seem to him that he had ever seen him eat particularly healthy stuff in the few times he had paid attention to it. But at the same time, he wasn't sure. Steve was someone who cared about his fitness. He was too vain for it.

"Option one, we leave the stuff in the pantry for him." He said, raising one finger while talking, before doing the same with a second one "Option two, he eats the same thing we eat too. If he starts complaining, someone hits him on the head or threatens him. For a few days I think he can manage," Douxie joked, grinning. 

He smiled a bit, too. That would have worked for sure. And would have been kind of funny. "Well, then..." 

"Back to the main topic," asserted Merlin sternly, blocking both Apprentice and Trollhunter in place, before they could start talking more about it. "Since other than waiting for the Jumps and standing guard to prevent the Arcane Order from attacking to take Nari, our priority, you have no definite commitments, I want to be clear. Do not stay idle. Do not make a fuss. Do not touch anything inside my study or in Morgana Le Fay's room. Don't go in there at all."  

Archie appeared from behind the curtain covering the window just then, going to perch on his Wizard's shoulder as if nothing had happened. 

'It's too late for that now. And I don't think Claire would have listened to the order anyway… not with the knowledge of the existence of the Shadowmancy volume, at least,' he thought,  crossing his gaze with Douxie.

He appeared quite calm, all things considered… but Jim would not have been surprised if it was just a facade, a mask he wore to avoid betraying himself in front of his Master. To avoid letting him know that he had already disobeyed one of the orders on the list. 

Honestly, Jim was still pretty confused about what to think about him. 

He wasn't convinced one hundred percent by him, but he no longer saw him as some sort of enemy, though . 

Yes, it had been jealousy on his part—he understood it the night before, while everyone was sleeping except them, after a long, silent overthinking—, he could admit it, because without the feeling he did not see everything with jade-colored glasses, and he could see that he had justified his insecurity with unwarranted contempt. Which half of him still felt, but was trying to hide. And to remove. 

The more time passed, the more he felt a little guilty for judging him without knowing him, but… really, jealousy was hard to fight. And the fact that he could not fully grasp him didn't help. 

He was like a living question mark for some reason.  For the time being, he did not know whether the feelings he had about him were correct or not. The only thing he was certain of was that he was weird . But whatever. Not that bad, maybe . So, he was trying to open his mind a little, and to try to give him a chance. 

"No approaching the Heart of Avalon. I will keep an eye on Nari, mostly, while I try to see if there are ways to speed up the journey and especially continue my research. And by my beard, don’t sleep in chairs, but inside rooms with beds!" 

"Uh... We all wanted to be in one room to wake each other up a bit better in case of an alarm?..." Jim couldn't help but wonder if the last complaint was made more out of the Sorcerer's own experiences of back pain than out of genuine concern. 

"And you didn't think of getting everyone mattresses in one room, if you cared so much about it?" 

'No. We didn't think of that at all… We were a little too wrapped up in the idea of having to be ready in case of a sudden attack to do that.'

Jim laughed nervously and Merlin sighed, rolling his eyes. "Children," he said.

There was a pause, then his gaze went to focus solely on Douxie, who stiffened on the spot like a wooden board. "Hisirdoux..." 

"Yes, Master?" He asked, hiding his right hand and leaving it covered beneath the black coat’s fur, bringing it closer to the opposite arm. 

"...Don't break anything ."

The Apprentice made a funny face. It was between shocked and offended, on the verge of retorting. But then he closed his mouth almost immediately, even grinding his teeth. A choked noise escaped from Archie. 

"And no one is to disturb me unless it is for something of extreme urgency. Have I made myself clear?" 

"Crystal clear," replied Jim, while Douxie merely nodded and muttered a "Yes, Master." 

They started to walk away and were going to leave the study, but suddenly the raven-haired boy froze, turning around. 

"Wait a tick… Master."

"Hisirdoux... " Merlin's tone was somewhat annoyed. And shrouded in a kind of silent warning. 

"Yes, I know. No one has to disturb you, I get that. I'll be out of your hair very quickly, promise. But first I have one last thing to ask," a pause, as he returned to the table and tapped two fingers on the larger parchment. "Could I make a copy of the map? And borrow some books? You said after all that we shouldn't be lounging around, so I was thinking of..." 

"All right." The Sorcerer interrupted him, sighing. Douxie made a little fist pump with one of his two arms, smiling cheekily at the older wizard—who sighed again—and proceeding at once with his work.

When he finished, he had two books in his hands, one of them so large that it was impressive and scary, to say the least. They were overhung by the parchment, neatly rolled up, but in danger of falling on the floor way too easily. 

They left the study at once, however, to avoid reducing the Sorcerer's patience. 

It was already low on its own, getting it down to zero was not exactly a good idea. 

"Want some help?" Asked Jim once they were outside, seeing how he was swinging like a pendulum under the weight. Which was hilarious, really, but oh, well. 

Douxie looked at him for a few seconds before smiling something grateful—which made him feel a bit stupid and guilty again, a feeling that churned inside his stomach—and answering. "...If you don't mind, yes. Thank you." 

Jim peeked at the books as they were divided, but they too had inscriptions in strange languages. He held the smaller one—though definitely not lightweight—and the parchment, while Hisirdoux kept the giant one, having to use both hands. Archie took flight, perhaps to avoid yet another burden for his Wizard to carry.

"What does the title say?" He asked, unable to hold back his curiosity. 

"The Asian Red Revelation and Study of Daoist Magic," read Douxie, pointing to them before speaking, then shrugging. "I would have also liked to have more information about the meanings of some plants, in case, so I was looking for a third book. But I thought that although there is some free time, it would not be enough for another one." 

With the size of 'Study of Daoist Magic ,' Jim wondered if he would have been able to finish that one yet, but he did not say it out loud. Partly because he would have kept it to himself anyway, partly because there was an interruption. 

"Wait." Nari said suddenly, stepping out of the study in turn, leading them both to look at her vaguely surprised, before realizing.

 "...The food."

********

Claire was left speechless. Again. 

That morning had been an emotional roller coaster, but it seemed that it would continue on that wavelength, without diminishing in pace. 

First Claire had gotten a half-heart attack from missing Jim and from the mild concern she had found on Blinky and Aaarrrgh's faces, which had become even more strong with her agitation.

Then she had been reassured when she had seen him return with Douxie at his side. Both of them with a book in their hands—Hell, one of them was so damn big! She didn't think she had ever seen a book that size. Not even The Lord of the Rings came close, and yes, that one wasn't exactly a tiny little book. She had once described it as the largest book she had seen, but at this point, it had lost its title. She hadn't been able to help but wonder if there were others of that kind of size—Both ready to lay them on the table in the corner, showing a scroll. 

And there had thus been the explanation, very briefly, of what Merlin had told them. They had especially dwelt on the fact that he had dropped an avalanche of rules to be followed. Which irritated her out of her mind, leading her to roll her eyes and cross her arms. 

Claire was quite happy that she had already broken one, albeit unintentionally... But the happiness was short-lived upon remembering how incomprehensible the Book of Shadows was. Because of that step backward in control of her magic, she had had a lump in her throat for most of the previous night, falling asleep from accumulated fatigue. And it came back to her rather quickly on second thoughts. 

At that moment, however, she found herself looking at the castle kitchen, totally different from how it had been before, crisscrossed with plants in every inch of it. From them sprouted fruits and vegetables of all kinds, even some unfamiliar types. 

That area that was part rock, part wood, and practically half empty had been transformed to look like a real greenhouse, green and lush. Easily comparable to the Public Bathrooms, also created by Nari. 

The demigoddess, in the company of Archie, had waited for them there, continuing to sprout roots wherever she found a suitable space for the species she would give birth. Once they had entered, she had turned around and smiled, a peaceful expression that had given Claire a strong sense of calm and tranquility. 

"I hope these are enough," she said once after everyone was acclimated, laying her gaze on each of them, then going over to one of her various creations, stroking the leaves gently. 

"We are extremely grateful," was the immediate response from Douxie, who even bowed. Instinctively, Claire and the others followed him in the gesture, thanking her in turn. 

"You don’t need to do that," whispered Nari, coming back to approach them. "You don’t need to thank me. It is I who has to. You are protecting me from Skrael and Bellroc by putting your lives on the line. This is the least I can do."

"It is an honor to protect you, Little Plant Lady ," jumped up Steve. "No one will lay a finger on you as long as I'm around!" 

Claire shook her head just barely with pure exasperation, before rolling her eyes. "Oh, yes. You will protect her by stunning the enemies with your shrill screams."

Steve became very, very red in the face. "That's not true! I still knocked out a six-foot alien! And my voice is not shrill!" 

"That was Aja and Krel," intervened Toby. 

"Yes, it is," insisted Claire, smiling teasingly, almost speaking at the same time as her friend. 

"Hey!..." the blond stared at her with a blatant pout, then did the same to the brown haired boy. "I still helped!" 

Toby ignored him and immediately went back to Nari. "But yes, just like he said. We are all honored to protect you!" 

The group nodded in confirmation. Then, after a quick search for socks and items for Blinky, Aaarrrgh, and Jim to eat, they all serenely consumed their breakfast, in part forming a mild background discussion in which the demigoddess, from time to time, asked questions, trying to understand details of which she was unaware. Chatter that then, in a sense, had become answers to Nari's questions. 

One of the talks focused on Internet memes, which Nari had no idea what they were at first. And that threw Toby into a long explanation—not exactly understandable—about what exactly they were, how they worked, and how to distinguish a normal situation from a Meme one. It was quite comical as a scene to witness. 

He even tried to explain to her how cell phones worked, but the attempt did not work. Probably because something obvious to them was diverting too much into technical information that they were not fully aware of. And venturing to define it, partly tentatively, led the semi-deity's expression to become gradually more confused instead of showing understanding, so much so that at one point she bent her head until she resembled an owl. 

"Nevermind," Claire herself had finally said, resting a hand on her shoulder, smiling. "You just need to know that they send messages to people who can be on the other side of the earth in a matter of seconds. Both written and vocal." 

"Like a combination of Projections and Sentinels?" 

"Uh..."

"That's right," said Douxie, who up to that point had remained silent while listening, occupied with grinding the beans of the coffee plant that Nari had said—between chattering—that she had created. "It's a mixture of the two, with an extra of Localization, Divination, and a portable Library Source, if you want to put it that way." He was almost sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter, the steaming cup between his hands. 

"Oh." Nari paused "And it's charged with lightning."

"...In much smaller doses, but... Yes." Said Archie.

Chapter Text

TRACK 4

I'm worse at what I do best

And for this gift I feel blessed

Our little group has always been

And always will until the end

Hello, hello, hello, how low

(Smells Like Teen Spirit-Nirvana) 

********

The caffeine had been a real panacea. Strong enough to restore his energy to keep him from feeling lethargic with every little movement. And the taste of coffee still navigating his taste buds had improved his mood drastically. 

Part of him—the one unconvinced by having taken only the books and the map—after the talk he had with Merlin, had only wanted to put his hands in his hair and to scream, because seriously, it seemed that he didn't matter. 

Why exactly was he there if Master didn't want his help? Just for the presence? To smile, mentor and babysit? Not that he thought they needed it, but he would not have been surprised if Merlin, on the contrary, thought they did. He probably thought he needed one, counting that the only order he had given him was not to break stuff. And yes, he had a talent for dropping or destroying objects unintentionally, but… What the fuzz ? Was that all he had been able to say to him? Not even a request to help him with the research? Not even a ' when I call you, come immediately '?—He didn't want to think that he had already broken a rule of those that Master gave them, bloody hell—But almost all the stress had only slipped out with the hot drink, with Archie's thoughts, and with the notes of Nari's Magic.

They reminded him, in sound, of those of a violin. And they had caused him to bring to mind a Lindsey Stirling song he had heard not two weeks earlier, Master of Tides. Just thinking about it had made him want to pull out his phone and listen to it all over again—that tune screamed pirates, fun, and adventure, a mixture that filled him with adrenaline and made him feel the smell of the open sea fill his nostrils—He had managed to stop himself from doing so, however, more out of politeness than anything else, letting himself get lost in the noisy interactions of the Guardians. 

He had listened to a few of them, then the rest had drifted in and out of his ears, as his mind had focused precisely on the thoughts of the books he had managed to take from his Master's study, of which the second part of him had been quite satisfied. 

He wanted to review the Red Revelation , to see if he had forgotten important details or even missed a bit of them. The volume was not the same, so it could also be that there was new information in the case. Maybe the kind that would have made him analyze the situation even in different lights, maybe not. He would not know until the reading. 

But most of all he wanted to analyze the Daoist Magic book, since aside from the little details that had been said and little else, well, he knew absolutely nothing about it.

In his nine hundred years he had focused more on Mostrology, Demonology, survival methods, and, of course, skills he could learn to be stronger and prepared for all kinds of situations. Studying Magic of the East had been a thought that had flashed through his mind from time to time, but nothing important in his eyes, not before that moment. He felt a little silly to have defined it as such, but he knew full well that having gaps was a fairly normal thing. Knowledge had no real end, the important thing was to try to close as many holes as possible and let instinct do the rest. 

Before he even realized it, Nari was back on her way to Merlin's study—making him realize that he had not asked her anything about the weird kind of spa she had created—, while he and the group were returning to the room they had sort of chosen as their base, at least for the time being. He could never know if they would change their minds, and since they were not exactly used to the castle and its structure, they would ask him to list a few of them, closer to rooms with bedrooms, and then choose the one that convinced them the most. 

It was toward the last corridors that Douxie crashed into Sir Galahad while turning. He almost lost his balance from the impact but managed to hold himself up, albeit staggering. 

The echo of the crash seemed to brand his skin like ink on paper. Discomfort immediately followed, along with a slight feeling of fear that he tried to silence, but which nevertheless seemed to descend until it even reached his insides. For an all too-long series of moments, he felt his breath coming short.

' He didn't notice anything. Take it easy, don't get caught up in unnecessary paranoia. It's okay. ' Archie told him in his head, leading him to shake it clean and wrinkle his nose. He thanked his Familiar mentally. 

"Oh, Merlin's errand boy ," said the Knight of the Round Table, pulling him out of his thoughts and replacing the previous emotion with bursting irritation. 

"Apprentice," he replied, offended, only to sigh after a couple of seconds, "Pardon me for bumping into you, Sir Galahad. I neither saw nor heard you coming."

"No problem, boy. I think you've hurt yourself more than I have," the man laughed, lifting his flask and bringing it to his lips, sipping the liquor before resuming speaking, stopping Hisirdoux in place with one hand—Douxie had indeed prepared to apologize and slip away as quickly as possible, but apparently, he was not allowed to.

 "Where have you been all this time? Except for your hair, you haven't changed a bit."

"The same goes for you," he replied cordially, although part of him would have liked to back away so as not to feel his breath—which reeked of alcohol in such a way as to make it complicated to avoid turning his nose up—straight in his face. "Here and there in the world, however, nothing special. Rather, shouldn't you be on guard at the moment, Sir?"

"This old man is just taking a break. Ten minutes, a chicken leg, a beer to warm me up good, and then I'll come back up. It's nice and cold outside, you know..." he said cheerfully, slapping his palm on his shoulder several times, just enough to tear him a vague grimace of pain. Sir Galahad did not have a particularly light hand. "And come on, a little more detail doesn't hurt anyone, aye? I was always in or around Camelot. And I'm not able to make the castle 'Jump' , as Merlin does. Wizards' stuff, you know. Seeing the rest of the world must have had its pearls, it can't all have been so dull. I'd be interested to know more..." 

"Perhaps another time," hurried Archie to say in his place. "As you see..." he nodded to the group of Guardians with his head "... We have quite the urgent facts to pay attention to."

"Yes. Forgive us," insisted Douxie with a tugged half-smile, managing to wriggle out of the Knight's iron grip in a way that did not seem too aggressive or rude. "Take care, Sir."

Sir Galahad did not have time to retort that Hisirdoux had immediately sprinted in the next corridor, hoping for no insistence. The greetings of the group behind him echoed in his ears, and several seconds passed in which he was not blocked by anyone. And he, therefore, sighed with relief.

It was not a matter of Sir Galahad per se, the man was not so unpleasant as a Knight compared to many past ones, but it was his questions, at times quite inappropriate, that made both Wizard and Familiar wish to stay away from him, especially with an audience. He took little time to go from normal random inquiries, such as precisely ' what had he seen in hundreds of years' to downright embarrassing things. The man had no filter. 

As he proceeded to reach his destination, he began to feel slightly watched. The chatter behind him had quieted down, leaving only the echo of their footsteps as noise. This was somewhat unusual considering how lively they had been up to that point. 

The silence became even more apparent as they passed through the door. One could even hear the agitated whispering of the wind. Expressively speaking, they seemed to have suddenly realized something. What, exactly, Douxie did not know. 

' Maybe that something was triggered by Sir Galahad's speech, ' he thought '... But it could also be anything else .'

"Is something wrong?" He asked, arching an eyebrow, causing most of the group to wince on the spot. And that led them to look at each other. 

"Ah. No." Was Toby's hasty reply.

"Nope." Said Steve soon after.

'Very convincing... '

Jim merely shook his head, resting his gaze on Claire, who instead had a tense, thoughtful expression.

“...Well,” said the girl in a soft tone, licking her lips.

"Well…?" Repeated Archie, tilting his head at almost the same time Douxie did. 

"Uh. I..." She moved a strand of hair behind her ear, her left hand resting on her right arm, grabbing the cape and barely clutching it. "...It's about the Shadowmancy book." She looked first at the two of them, then stared down, a blatant grimace painted on her face. 

"And what...?" At first, Douxie did not grasp what she could mean by that expression. Then, after a moment, before completing the question, he understood.

He could not help but remember the first time he had ever come across a Magic book under his hand, not having the faintest idea of what was written on it, while Archibald had tried to teach him how to read it, just as he had done with Latin.

"Oh... Oh ," he swallowed, blinking a few times as if to wake up, slapping himself. "Right. Scriptures from different periods. Old Wizards' writing."

It was obvious. Douxie should have come to that conclusion much earlier, but the entire previous evening had been accompanied by constant flashbacks, more or less deliberate thoughts, alertness, and a desire to know what was going to happen. He could not criticize himself for not thinking about it. He still cursed mentally, though. 

Claire nodded. "That's right... I... I can't read it. But it's not just that..." she frowned, inhaling and exhaling, almost to give herself strength. 

Then, she dropped the bomb. 

"I would like you to teach me," she said, causing everyone else to gasp with shocked expressions on their faces. "Please."

A few seconds passed. Seconds in which his brain seemed not to fully grasp what Claire had said, as if it had gone into a blackout. Then the sentence sank in and Douxie almost had a heart attack. 

"Wait...What?" He gaped, both eyebrows arched, pointing to himself. His head made a slight movement of denial. "Me?... I'm not a teacher. I'm barely a decent apprentice. You only have to go to Merlin to confirm that through the three thousand anecdotes of disaster that followed my arrival at the castle..."

"Merlin's opinion in this and in many other things doesn't matter to me," Claire retorted in a tone of conviction, tightening her lips. An answer that led Hisirdoux to facepalm again in that short amount of time. 

Archie made a hoarse sound over his shoulder, muttering "... It feels like I'm hearing Zoe talking."

"Yeah, okay, that's not the point of the situation anyway," he blurted out, rolling his eyes, and casting a glance at Archibald. 

'Does this seem like the time ?'

'You can't tell me you didn't think the same thing. You'd be lying and we both know it .'

Douxie could feel Archie's amusement widening inside his head, taking up more and more space between his feelings. He huffed.

"It is," she said. "I don't care what Merlin thinks. He tends to belittle everyone he meets." Claire had an obvious look of annoyance, before recovering. "I trust my instincts instead. And my gut tells me I need a teacher, someone to guide me. You seem to know a lot, both of the world and of Magic itself, so, yeah." she looked a bit nervous, then she added a soft spoken "And the book won't translate itself…”

On that, Claire was not wrong. There were magical books that changed the language on their own to make themselves readable or unreadable, but that one was not among them.

Archie headbutted him. He glared a bit. 

Hisirdoux then turned back to look at the girl and groaned, seeing her all too hopeful expression, which kept reminding him of his own from back in the day. "Yes, but... Listen... I don't... Ugh." He paused, sighing a low and bitter sound. And dropping his arm back on his hip heavily. "I don't have the skills or the abilities to be your teacher. It would end up being an utter disaster."

"Why? How can you say that with such certainty?" Asked Toby suddenly, flanking his friend, who always appeared rather stubborn, as if what he had said hadn't fazed her in the slightest. 

"Do you see into the future, Dumbledork ?" Steve said instead out of the blue. 

'Another nickname in less than twenty-four hours. Wow. I wonder how many he'll come up with in three days.' He thought, merely shaking his head.

"Then I'll tag along easily with Domzalski's question. Why?"

"Woah, big brain Steve, I didn't think you had it in you. " 

"Shut up, Lake."

"I don't know how to use Shadow Magic," he said cautiously, interrupting the discussion sharply, leading them to stare at him as he looked at an imprecise spot on the wall. “I don't doubt your abilities, Claire, in fact… quite the opposite, counting the tune that belongs to you. But the thing is…” he bit his lower lip, wrinkling his nose. 

He knew he had to be clear and concise, without skirting around the issue. Not cruelly getting to the point would not show her how the situation could escalate rather quickly. It would not have put all the risk cards on the table.

"If something were to happen to you… if I were to explain badly or miss something important... Fuzz it, if you lost control, ended up in the Shadow Realm, and couldn't get out for whatever reason... I could not get you out of it, either."

Silence fell heavily again. Worry was painted on everyone's faces. Especially on that of the Trollhunter, who looked at Claire as if he wanted to say something, but was holding himself back with all his might.

The girl seemed to digest the situation between thoughts, barely wavering on the spot, with one of her two hands brushing against her shoulder, while the group around her cast unblinking glances at her. 

Then she stared back at him, with even more determination than before. "There isn’t something that doesn’t have its risks. Not trying to do something because there is danger, well, it doesn't lead anywhere." She said, dead serious. 

"Are you sure, Fair Claire?" Asked Blinky. "Danger is everywhere, yes. But... Some of it is just not worth it."

The girl smiled. "I know, Blinky. Thank you for that. But I know this is worth it. We have to protect Nari from the Arcane Order, after all."

And she returned to rest her gaze on him insistently. 

"... I'm still not a teacher," Douxie ended up saying again, exasperated.

He wished he could have told her to get help from someone else, not because he didn't want to do it, but because it was… well because the problem was him. She needed someone more experienced. Someone like Merlin himself, maybe.

'But honestly, where would she find that someone? Master Merlin would not accept, not after Morgana. And Nari is constantly with him, so out of the question... There are no other wizards nearby who could help .' 

" Fuzz me ," he muttered, pausing a little. "All right," he then said, covering his eyes with his hand and rubbing his fingers over his temples, then running them through his hair as Claire became euphoric. "But we need to get as far away from the study as possible. We're too close here..." 

And how very close they were. He could already imagine his Master appearing from the doorway, while shouting " What in the Seven Rings did you do this time, Hisirdoux ?" glaring at him and making him feel as if he had done something illegal, leading him to want to disappear before he received the usual scolding. 

"Merlin would sniff and see your active magic aura even before you got serious about it," he commented, already massaging his temple. He hoped that he would not find out about this.

********

The room they moved to was much larger. All the windows, even there, were already covered, the sun already undirected on them from the start... and it looked like a kind of open space, surrounded by magical armor, swords, other weapons, and paintings hanging on the walls. When Steve saw the blades, he emitted a scream so high-pitched that it didn't even sound human, immediately beginning to grab and shake a few of them idly, as if they were toys. 

With the attempted use of a spiked club, achieved after five different choices with which he nevertheless did quite well, he risked hitting Jim in the head. Steve was therefore forced to sit down to avoid injuring—or worse, killing—someone, although there was no shortage of long protests to the order. No one particularly cared about the pout the blond boy put on. Their safety was more important, in all honesty.

It had taken even longer for Claire's patience to reach that environment, but perhaps the exaggerated timing had been caused by her desire. Or perhaps, just as likely, it had been the fact that Camelot did have too many rooms. A mixture of the two, yes.

In return, it didn't take long for her to find herself torturing her own hands, with the raven-haired wizard that twirled the Shadowmancy book in front of himself, moving the pages without touching them, his absorbed gaze scrolling through the words and his nose wrinkled in concentration—a habit of his, Claire noticed. Whenever he was lost in reasoning or thoughts, he always had that slight involuntary movement that betrayed him—while Archibald had returned from a brief patrol, covered with such a layer of snow that it hinted rather quickly at how hard the flakes were coming down. 

Nothing new, fortunately. Although they had been in Noatak for a few hours now, there was no sign of the Arcane Order. Claire mentally hoped that the situation would continue to stay that way until they had a way to return to the past—and possibly even after that, though that seemed perhaps to be asking a little too much. Trouble never waited and always came when people were not ready for it.

"Small warning," said Douxie suddenly, looking up mainly in the direction of the others. "The situation may get a little boring to witness. In case, if you want to expend some energy, the room opposite this one is big enough to make you spar. I've already covered that one as well… there would also be barracks, theoretically, but those are in the open air, so..."

"Nah, we want to see the magic, dude ," asserted Steve immediately, apparently having recovered from his pouting moment. 

"Whatever. I said it." Hisirdoux looked nervous, raising his shoulders a little, then returning his focus to her with a hint of a smile on his lips that, however, betrayed a tiny bit of tension. "If you don't understand something that I say, please tell me… Ready?"

"Yes, and yes I am," she replied with an instinctive nod. And she was. Determination and confidence ran through her veins instead of blood, accompanied by a slight tinge of elation. More than slight. Part of her wished she could jump a little on the spot, somewhat as she had done when she had found Morgana's Staff in her hands one of the first times.

"Well," he ran his hands through his hair "As you may have realized yourself, Magic is emotion. Most of the time, the first bursts of power are triggered by strong feelings that go to tickle dormant abilities. You have already tasted your own, you know what feelings pushed you the most. Which ones were they?"

"Anger," Claire said instantly. Then she thought about it for a couple of seconds, trying to remember the others as well. Because, no, although anger was the one that had set her off rather easily, there had been others. " Fear. Desire to protect."

"Okay. What is the emotion you feel the most right now?" 

"Trepidation, perhaps." she asserted, moistening her lips. Yes, all the previous emotions had merged. And that was the definition of what was now running through her from head to toe. 

He nodded, then raised both arms in front of her. "Put your hands like this… Head up, but don't be too stiff."

Claire executed, trying to be as close as possible to how the raven-haired boy was standing. 

"Pardon me if the question seems a little bit ambiguous, really, but... Can I touch you?" He asked—Jim raised an eyebrow, even though nobody noticed. 

She simply nodded, confused by the request—there was no need to ask…? He was trying to help her out. So why question it? Maybe it was because he was old fashioned, so he felt like he had to ask anyway? He was Nine hundred years old or something, after all. Which was extremely weird to think about, Dios mío. Well, whatever.

He instantly started to adjust the height and the distance of her upper limbs, giving them gentle taps—his fingers were quite cold, so much so that they reminded her of icicles—then he took a few steps away and circled her a couple of times. She could feel his gaze scrutinizing her with total attention. 

"Let yourself breathe, Claire. Relax... Take your time."

To be completely honest, she had not even realized that she had held her breath. She forced herself to throw out air and take it back in a more regular manner, avoiding a second involuntary state of apnea. 

"Better," he said smiling, stopping himself from moving again. "I want you to focus on your emotions. Think about what triggers them and what might fuel them. Understood?" She nodded again. "Good. You will know everything about your triggering emotion, but the main thing is another one. You don't have to let that feeling of yours control you. It's just that. A feeling. It is not you. You have to be able to detach yourself from it."

She tried to do what he told her, step by step. Trepidation swirled in her chest in waves, going up and down again and again. At times it seemed to drown it all out, making her tense, but she forced herself to reanalyze the reasons why it was trying to put her down as it rolled inside her at full speed. 

'Expectation. Desire to be useful and in control of myself. Desire to be able to stand up for the people I care about .'

She returned to her trepidation. It was still in her chest, making her heart race. But it was less intense. 

It was slowly detaching from her, so much so that it even seemed to back up, moving farther and farther away, though it was always there. 

Douxie moved his head almost imperceptibly, but she, as engrossed as she was in her work, did not even notice. "Use it. Concentrate your feelings as much as you can and imagine throwing out a part of it, letting it take shape. Stay true to yourself. You're not your emotions. You can do it."

The trepidation was beginning to look like an object. And objectifying it made it feel like an extra in the center of her chest, a partially alien feeling. Pushing it out, just as Douxie had said, as she had always involuntarily done thanks to the Staff, turned out to be easier than expected. 

Small purple shapes appeared in the center of both of her open hands, going on to join into a single ball, much larger than she hoped for, before Claire’s astonished eyes. And to disappear almost immediately, as trepidation was overpowered first by surprise, then by an uncontrolled amount of joy. 

She turned her head sharply toward Douxie, who had a beaming, toothy smile on his face. "I did it?" She asked, open-mouthed, unable to contain her excitement.

"You did it, all right," he said, grinning. "Congratulations, C-bomb ."

She found herself smiling and laughing a bit because of the shock, this before turning to the others who, though almost in the background of the situation, were cheering and clapping at her with excited expressions. Jim's, visibly proud of her, melted her on the spot like ice cream left in the sun. 

It took her a short time, however, to get back into serious mode. She had barely begun. She was not going to stop after so little, especially with the final confirmation of her abilities, knowing that she had to improve them as much as possible. 

"Let's continue with the manifestations of your magic until it starts to get instinctive, shall we?" Said Douxie, making a weird face, as if he knew what she had just thought. For a moment, Claire wondered if he was capable of reading into other people's minds.

"Don't rush it. It has to be a gradual growth," he added. 

"Yes. Okay," she replied, even nodding.

********

After a very exciting first start, things had indeed become boring for those who were only watching.

Douxie and Claire, except for a few very small appearances by Archie—who mainly spent his time traveling from outside Camelot to the inside, providing updates on the lack of news, which were very welcome—seemed to be in a world of their own, exiled from the present.

The events of real magic were punctuated by long, almost interminable, periods of silence and instruction—so much so that lunchtime even arrived and flew by, then led them to get back to focusing on what to do in almost no time at all, taking a few Oranges and a couple of bottles of water with them. 

The reason why Steve, Toby, Jim, Aaarrrgh, and Blinky chose to go to the room Hisirdoux had mentioned earlier, both to avoid disturbance, out of boredom and the need to stretch their legs. 

It, too, was very large, but except for some cross furniture, benches, and little else, it was practically empty. It had no windows except for a small one showing the snowy landscape. On the opposite side of it, however, there was a flight of steps going down who knows where. It was dark, as it was devoid of light hanging on the walls. 

"What do you think is down there?" Asked Jim, looking at it dubiously. 

"I wouldn't be sure, Master Jim," said Blinky. "This place looks like a real labyrinth. But, usually, in castles, going down only leads to two places: The Dungeons… or the Sewers."

Steve immediately made a disgusted expression at the last mention, as if he could already smell it. "Ew."

"Even wanting to try to get confirmation would probably make us get lost, so that's okay," asserted Toby, enlarging his Warhammer. "But if someone or something should come from there for some mysterious reason, I'm ready to defend myself."

The blond immediately pulled out the sword he had managed to swipe from the room where Claire and Douxie were. Or which he thought he had swiped, but which they had finally allowed him to take anyway to prevent him from starting to complain about being bored in not even ten minutes. " Shyeah . Me too. Who wants to fight me? I'll knock out anyone who comes at me!... Creepslayer , remember that!" 

Aaarrrgh looked at him in silence for a few seconds. "... Puny," he said, smiling a little "Squash."

"Wha… No! Not true!"

Toby and Jim started laughing almost instantly. Steve's attempts to convince the Troll made them laugh even more.

However, the laughter stopped abruptly when Camelot made a Jump, in an unexpected way.

It was always a rather unpleasant experience. As if the entire castle felt wrong, put in a way it shouldn't have been and that above all seemed about to disintegrate... and therefore, consequently, made them feel the same way, too.

Compared to the previous two times, however, the feeling of vomit and the desire to lean on the battlements to empty the contents of their stomachs was decidedly lighter. It didn't completely disappear, remaining in their throats and the core of their beings, but it was still better than nothing.

"Will we get used to it, sooner or later?" Asked Toby, his face still green, forcing himself to ignore a small voice in his head yelling for him to run and stop swallowing the bile.

"I really, reaaaally hope so," Steve whimpered. "Because I can't stand it anymore. Ugh. Couldn't the movements of the flying castle be a little more kind to us? Is that too much to ask?"

"Considering that these movements are keeping us away from two angry demigods who want to destroy the world, I think it is." Jim asserted with a slight sigh.

"Where are we now, this time?" The blond asked, scratching his head as if he had fleas. The distinct confusion, partly perhaps still due to the Jump, was painted on his entire face.

"Uh…" the Trollhunter struggled to remember the first of the names that had been listed that morning. It was like… in Russia if he remembered correctly. In a city that started with 'A'.

'… Aladri? Anadri? No, it wasn't like that… Ah, yes!'

"Anadyr. Anadyr is the name of the city we're flying upon. On the Russian coast," he felt almost satisfied to have remembered it, counting that that name had only been mentioned twice that morning.

"Ah, cool!..." Toby exclaimed loudly, and then his face darkened, albeit slightly. "It's a pity that the only real experience I've ever had in the East doesn't even allow me to see the cities. I feel as if I was a tourist, but at the same time I can't go to see anything, nor to take photographs or videos," he looked very disappointed.

Honestly, Jim got it. The effect was similar on him too. They were sixteen-year-olds traveling around the world, but they couldn't help but peek at it from the windows... As if that wasn't enough, if he looked at it with direct sunlight streaming in, he would have hurt himself. Not to say that he would directly turn to stone. He didn't want to, thank you very much.

"Come on, Tobes. It'll be better next time." He placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, trying to reassure him. Toby looked at him, a bit saddened at first, then hinted at a smile.

"I hope you're not traveling for problems of this kind in that case, too..." Blinky said. "Yes, I don't see why you couldn't do it in the future, Master Tobias."

"Wingman well?" Aaarrrgh asked.

Toby limited himself to nodding and smiling at him, already more cheerful. Then he adjusted the helmet on his head as if he were an army soldier ready to take an oath.

"Besides, it's not certain that we won't go down even once. Maybe we won't do it during the day, but nobody stops us to go around at night, just in case… Or, I think so…?" 

"Well, doesn't matter! We have to protect Nari! We'll find another occasion before or later, Blinky is right!" Toby said, smiling openly "No issues."

"Yeah, yeah… Come on, buttsnacks . Sparring!" Steve intervened. "We're not here to stay still like dead fish!"

No one told him that with that sentence he had visibly reminded them of Coach Laurence. If they had done so, the blond would surely have become a mess pretty fast, of a red that easily rivaled a ripe tomato. Both Toby and Jim chose to spare him.

The last comment, however, actually set them in motion. They immediately began to fight each other in turns, never being one hundred percent serious about avoiding hurting each other. This did not diminish the competition, however, nor the general effort.

Blinky and Aaarrrgh declared the winner each round, counting the wins and losses suffered. In total, they made nearly thirty fights.

Steve didn't win even one, much to his frustration, so much so that he tried to make excuses for several minutes. 

But then he chose to listen to the advice the group gave him, trying to write it down in his mind, forcing himself to swallow his pride. If Aja had been there, Steve didn't know if it would have been easier or even more awkward for him.

Chapter Text

TRACK 5

Run like me, like hell, like everybody else

Hair metal on a Japanese boom box

Kicks like you, like me, like everybody else

When it gets loud, I turn it up

Shake it like a bad girl up in Harlem

(Harlem- New Politics)

********

"Okay, that's enough for today," asserted Douxie, after casting a glance at the time. It was 4:30 in the afternoon. Counting that they had started at about eleven in the morning, they had done even too much for a first teaching round. But time had flown by… and it was strangely easy to push Claire to use her magic, developing it as she went, letting it dance in her own Aura and then letting it out. Her sound was just a little bit similar but at the same time totally different from Morgana Le Fay's. 

It was probably so easy to teach her because she had had the Shadows Staff to give her a taste of it already, allowing her to perceive the mechanisms of Magic... Or perhaps because she was extremely talented and gifted. 

For a moment, the girl seemed about to retort but stopped herself. "All right," she said, nodding in the process. She still looked tentative, her head down… and her expression appeared somewhat uncertain. Unless Douxie was reading her wrong. He might as well have been. 

Douxie smiled at her. "You're doing great," Claire lifted her head sharply, staring at him with something unintelligible. "I know it may seem like you're not, but I assure you, you are. You've made a lot of progress."

Claire opened and closed her mouth mechanically. Then she opened it again to speak. "It's just that I'm afraid I don't have enough time to make new improvements... If we were attacked tomorrow..." 

"If we were attacked tomorrow, we always have the Jumps to our advantage. And Merlin, who may or may not be liked as a person, but who is still the most powerful Sorcerer of all time," Douxie tried to reassure her, even though he knew that he had felt agitated in the same way and for an identical reason. Fuzz it, he had even calculated the idea of dying in the midst of it. A thought, however, that had not yet disappeared and would probably continue to lodge in a small side of his brain, coming back up every time he wasn’t sufficiently occupied to stop thinking. 

Claire made a snort-like sound and he chuckled faintly, barely shaking his head. Yes, on some things she was just like Zoe. She was less mean , though. 

"...And I don't think any of us will let them win without a fight. We will come up with something. Even a little improvisation is enough to snatch a victory. A stroke of luck can work as well as a particularly complicated spell. Of course, the latter has higher success rates but..." a pause, in which she continued to watch him, waiting for him to finish. "...But to achieve it, we must be at full strength. Tiring ourselves to the bitter end does no one any good." 

She nodded, appearing thoughtful. Then she smiled. 

"You were lying, though..." the girl said suddenly, wrenching a startled gasp from him. 

The simple comment caused him to tilt his head in total confusion, blinking a couple of times and arching his eyebrow, becoming extremely stiff, so much so that he wasn't sure if he was taking in and throwing out oxygen regularly. 

' Uh ?’ 

Douxie tried to think what lies he might have told as quickly as possible. 

He didn't feel like he had told any. Not to her. Nor to the rest of the Guardians. Not in those days, at least. He had even tried to avoid revolving around truths—a difficult thing, counting that he had been accustomed to doing so since the Middle Ages, so much so that some of it came to him as instinctively as breathing, though it bothered him as a fact—so, no, he had no idea what she was talking about. 

The only 'lie' he had told that day was to Sir Galahad, about the lack of interesting events in his travels around the world. There had been many. Just as there had been many situations that he had hated with all his heart and that had stuck in his brain, not even if he had taken pictures of them. 

' Is that it? But she doesn't know it's a lie. I didn't even mention it. Unless she puts two and two together with the vampire talk? ' 

"I beg your pardon...?" He said, frowning. A slight tension returned to stir in the pit of his stomach like a snake twisting in on itself. He forced himself to ignore it. 

Claire's smile widened conspicuously, which confused him to no end. 

Seriously, if he had let slip a lie and she had noticed it, shouldn't she have been irritated with him?.... Ashildr would have been furious in her place, criticizing him in a thousand different ways and looking down on him. And the remaining members of his band as well. 

So what did she mean? Was it a falsely kind smile? She didn't seem like the person to do that, in all honesty. Was he reading her wrong? Or maybe it was something else? 

He didn't understand. And his mind was traveling at a thousand miles an hour trying to grasp the situation, failing miserably. Thus increasing his anxiety even more. 

"You're a good teacher," she replied, catching him off guard, and causing him to widen his eyes. 

' Oh. It was this then.. .'   

"You've been clear, concise, and patient so far. I couldn't ask for better," the girl added, giving him a gentle nudge in the side. A playful gesture that relaxed him until halfway through. "Thank you."

Shock and mild embarrassment replaced the tension in a snap of fingers. He tried to come up with a decent answer, but couldn’t. His mind had emptied so quickly that it left him speechless. Perhaps it was due to the emotional roller coaster he had found himself facing... or perhaps it was because he could not accept certain types of compliments without feeling utterly flustered. 

He, therefore, limited himself to a silent nod and a soft "You're welcome... ", said by bringing a hand to the back of his neck. 

He did not feel that he had done much of anything. It was Claire who had performed the greater leap of the two. Douxie had barely tried to avoid long nonsense speeches, the kind that began and ended, leaving anyone listening more confused than before… sort of like the ones Toby had given Nari about phones. It was the kind of explanation that brought him into a cold sweat at times. And he had not wanted to inflict the same suffering on Claire, counting the risks already present because of her Magic. 

Hisirdoux had been a translator and little more. She had done half miracles. And he ended up saying it verbally, too.

"You shouldn't think that way. She's right, you know. You've been a very good teacher."

Douxie shifted his gaze to Archie, who came back into the room just then. And so to position himself on his shoulder once more. He gave him a scratch behind the ears as Claire agreed with his familiar, through a very convincing nod. 

' You’re exaggerating, Arch ,' he thought in response. 

' Not at all. Quite the opposite, I think you're not giving yourself enough credit. How can it be that for certain achievements you exalt yourself all too easily, while for others you try to put them on the back burner? '

He ignored his familiar's mental comments, feeling the childish desire to stick the tongue out. Desire the dragon sensed, for he rolled his eyes and sighed. 

Douxie smiled and returned his attention to the girl. "Let's go warn the others," he said. 

Claire nodded again, remaining silent for a couple of seconds. But before they left the room completely, she spoke. "I have another question."

The Wizard tilted his head. A half laugh escaped him before he could even feel it coming. "You know you can ask without permission, right? We're not in school." 

"Eh, I wouldn't be so sure, Teach ," she said with a sly grin, surprising him a bit. She paused briefly, such that they reached the hallway in the meantime. Stopping them in place as the conversation continued. "...The Auras' perceptions... Is it a spontaneous thing for all Wizards, coming as they go or...?" 

"It depends," he said, darkening a little and biting his lower lip. "It better not be though." 

Claire seemed visibly confused by his answer, which is why he hastened to explain. 

"If there is no preparation, there is no internal door to the energy of others. And the sudden arrival of esoteric perceptions can do a lot of harm in that case."

' Not to say it could be seen as a kind of torture ,' he thought, tightening his mouth. He did not expose it. He kept it to himself, feeling his stomach turn with disgust at the mere thought of such a thing. 

"Forcing a person through strong magical waves to open one's reception is..." he grimaced "Quite cruel. And doing it alone, without an initial warm-up..." He didn't know what to call it, exactly. He wrinkled his nose, annoyed at his inability to speak. He had always called himself quite good with words, but that speech was difficult to deal with. 

"...As in... Would it be like ripping off a band-aid and feeling the pain caused by it for weeks? Kinda? No, worse. But it's hard to find a suitable metaphor. Just know that it's not pleasant." He paused. "... Reason why there is a need for a specific process of adaptation and mental exploration."

"Oh... And how long does it usually take?" Asked the girl. 

Something inside Douxie told him that Claire wanted to learn how to do it herself, perhaps after she was able to open portals again. It made sense. It was useful as a skill. Even at that moment, he was using his esoteric ear to make sure there was not a single misplaced note outside of Camelot. Or inside the castle.

"This also depends on the wizard. It is not a matter of power or magical ability. It is character, open-mindedness, and the ability to analyze critically that gives influence. It can be a factor of hours, days… or months, even," he shrugged a bit. "I know someone who took two months before she developed her sense of perception." And he remembered her frustration very well. Vanessa had been unbearable, to say the least, during that time, but he could understand her. Had it been him, he probably wouldn't have been that way , but he wouldn't have gone that far either.

Claire's eyes widened, her mouth wide open to the point where it looked like her jaw would drop on the floor soon enough. "Two months? But that's such a long time!" 

Hisirdoux resumed his path and walked past the door to the room where the others were, being followed by her. "She needed to understand herself. And that had made the process a little more complicated for her than normal."

"Understood..." the girl whispered. Then she stared at him curiously. "What about...?" She tried to ask something, but whatever it was, she did not have time to complete the question. 

" Obi-wan Kenobi and Luke Skywalker are back!" Asserted Steve in fact, practically screaming. And ripping grimaces from everyone in unison, including the Trolls. 

"Ugh! Steve!" Said Jim immediately, as protests arose from the others as well, albeit muttered. 

"We'd still like to have our eardrums intact by the end of the day, thank you," blurted out Archie suddenly. His familiar had covered his ears with his paws, but he let them fall back, sighing with pure accumulated exasperation. "We would like you to go and wash yourselves, by the way. And by we , I mean me. There is a stench of sweat in here that is nothing short of devastating."

Almost in confirmation of that comment, the dragon sneezed after a few seconds, then emitted an annoyed sound. 

"Well, okay," said Toby. “But first we have to be able to get back there… to the baths. Isn't there a quick shortcut nearby? I'm exhausted." Just his tone of voice and his slight panting testified to that rather well. 

"There is no shortcut, I'm sorry. The corridors we took on the way before were already the shortest we could use," replied Douxie in an apologetic tone. 

Toby groaned. "This castle is too big..."

None of the group refrained from agreeing. Not even Hisirdoux and Archibald themselves. It was hard not to when they, before they got the hang of it centuries ago , had ended up walking around those walls for hours on end, not understanding where they were going. 

It had taken nearly four months to do the final sums, drawing various simplified maps—which resembled more rectangles flanked by indicators and more rectangles… and so on—to figure out how to move.

The first week had been nothing short of hell. Douxie had followed Merlin everywhere—so much so that he felt like a child behind his parents. A comparison he erased as if it had burned him—hoping not to be noticed, but ending up being observed by the servants who looked at him with expressions more or less painted with disgust. And often falling because of unseen steps or... Other reasons.

He forced himself to keep the thought away, focusing on something else entirely. 

"Would you like some road signs to orient yourself better?" He asked, jokingly. The image of the castle being traversed by large, bulky, brightly colored cards that appeared everywhere, even in inappropriate places, amused him quite a bit. It was really strange as a thing. 

What Douxie did not expect was that the Guardians stared at him as if they were calculating it, not seeing it as a silly comment.

Some even ended up nodding and saying "That would be helpful."

Archie made a hoarse, choked noise, shaking as if he were about to laugh or spit out a furball. 

' Oh. Well, okay. Something tells me Merlin will most likely kill me, but alright. '

' I think so, too. But maybe he'll bear it if you make everything a bit… more aesthetically pleasing .'

‘ Right. Will do .’

********

Seeing the castle covered with small signs carved in stone, more than manicured, with legible lettering and small indicators… well, that wasn't bad at all. They made Camelot less of a labyrinth and more of a sort of tourist destination for the Guardians as if they were seriously going on a school trip.

They even fit well—Douxie had made an effort so that they did not come across as eyesores. They had a gothic flavor, but not in an exaggerated way—so much so that it seemed they had always been there.

Had they arrived at that time, seeing them would not have brought them so many questions. They probably wouldn't have asked any at all, except perhaps about the small detail that the inscriptions were in their current English and not in Latin or… whatever other language there was in the old Sorcerer's books. 

They proved to be quite helpful right away, so much so that they were able to find a new room to stay in. A bit smaller than the one they had initially chosen as their base, but it was just fine. Especially counting that the only window in it opened onto some kind of huge balcony that was attached to some stairs. These led directly to one of the castle's various gardens, with rock benches and views that were nothing short of breathtaking.  

It was mostly midway between the Public Baths, the Latrines, and the Weapons Room. Perhaps a little farther from the kitchens than they would have hoped, but not even so far as to complain.

Toby and Steve headed for the Baths after a bit, much to Archibald's relief, already having spare clothes with them, thanks to an all-too-long stop at a second checkroom. This, too, was not particularly far from them. And they did so without needing a guide any longer, a fact that allowed Douxie to pause and regain some of his expended energy, leaning against a small present recess in the wall, staring at the screen of his cell phone and running his thumb over it, the other hand near to the giant book of Daoist Magic. 

Jim did not join Toby and Steve. He preferred to stay there—his new nature had indeed allowed him not to sweat particularly, even with all that movement—and so to avoid returning to the spa. 

On one hand, he perceived this as a good thing. On the other one, however, he felt quite cowardly, a single feeling that unnerved him a lot more than he would have liked: It was as if he was running away, really. Like he was unable to stop trying to escape the anxiety caused by even the thought of going back to that damn room. Of going back to staring at those tubs.

Absurd, to say the least. He couldn't stand it. It was the reason why he threw all his attention to the others as if nothing had happened. 

Blinky was looking at the two volumes taken by Merlin's Apprentice, albeit from a distance, with blatant interest. He had already asked him a couple of questions about them that morning, but not enough to remove his curiosity. And the Wizard seemed to notice it in turn after a couple of seconds, ditching the phone in his jeans pocket. And he ended up handing him the smaller of the two, which was written in ænglisc, Anglo-Saxon, it seemed. And that after a soft-spoken thank you , Blinky opened, cautiously flicking through its pages. 

Aaarrrgh was still giving Archie mild glances that the dragon was not appreciating if his expression was any indication. The lightning-fast glances and nervous wagging of his tail—as he went to rest on the raven-haired boy's legs, then starting to purr when he began to rub his fingers under his chin almost immediately—were quite easy to understand. But that was pretty normal, Jim thought. No one would relish the idea of being eaten. 

Claire, on the other hand, seemed to be waiting for Toby and Steve to return, often laying her eyes on the door. In contrast to him, she seemed decidedly eager for that hot bath. That didn't mean, however, that she didn't return his glances in the interlude and lay them on the others from time to time as well.

********

It had stopped snowing just before the sun went down completely. The compact layer of snow crunched beneath the soles of their shoes, a noise that was partly covered, however, by the chatter of the cold current coming from the north. It mussed everyone's hair, causing them to finish—more times than they would have liked—almost in their eyes and leading them to protest under their breath.

Small clouds of smoke rose from their lips each time they breathed, rising until they disappeared into the dark sky above them, barely lit by a final quarter moon, obscured by large ominous clouds.

A quarter that Douxie would have described as an almost Grain Moon . For the time of the year, it was right, but there was no warmth at all in there, quite the contrary. Yeah, definitely. In California, he could have said that without any doubt, partly because Arcadia Oaks’ climate was always quite scorching in the summer, but there, in Russia? Not at all. Oak Moon would have been more appropriate. 

Archibald had hidden beneath the fur he wore, pressing himself partly against the crook of his neck. And this was a frightening testament, to say the least, to how low the temperature was in the vicinity. The dragon was unlikely to be bothered by freezing winds, usually. This situation was an exception to the rule—it was still possible that he did so simply to be in close contact with his Wizard. His underlying emotions were a haphazard jumble and it was difficult to distinguish a precise one. 

Hisirdoux allowed himself to observe the landscape before his eyes. The buildings he could see had very bright and distinct colors. Even looking at them as night fell made this obvious, making them appear as small, colorful rectangles that broke up some of the nighttime monotony. To help there were then several street lamps not far from them, of course, but those were details. 

He would have easily compared them to the houses in Saint John, Canada, or those in Burano, Italy . But the list of cities with flashy-looking detailed, unique, and colorful houses were quite long. 

He went from what was below to what was above rather quickly, returning to stare at the sky. There continued to be no sign of danger, not even a glimmer of it. The only thing he felt observed by were the stars in the firmament, which seemed to whisper among themselves with their distant light. He could even recognize some of them. 

From the stars, he returned to the horizon. Dark, but empty. Boundless and always full of mysteries, but quiet, as if there was really nothing to fear. An illusion that planet Earth was capable of creating rather easily. 

Douxie was pulled out of his concentration and thoughts suddenly, however. So suddenly that a choked sound almost escaped his lips as his brain came back to the present and tried to figure out what exactly had just happened. 

It took him little time to realize. The impact echo on his left shoulder, the scattered snow above his coat’s fur, and Steve's partially shocked and all too guilty expression were enough. The others also observed the situation with similar expressions, as if they feared he would be angry because of it. Which was rather funny, in some ways. Who had they taken him for?

“Sorry, Obi-wan . It wasn't directed at you, I meant to hit Lak... Agh!” Steve let out a high-pitched squeal—he had been honest, but in any case, counting that Jim wasn't that close to the black-haired boy, he must have had a terrible aim—that interrupted him in his speech. 

It hadn't taken Douxie long to place his hand on the surface of the white rock,  the nearest to him, catching a hint of snow, balling it up, and throwing it straight down the blond’s right arm as a small feral grin painted itself on his face. 

"Oh, really? Pardon me , mine was." He grinned something wild, his gaze glinting with defiance, bringing one of his hands to the pile of snow again and tossing it from one to the other a couple of times, readying it for the next hit. "Some of the following will be too, don't worry."

Archie, sensing the change of mood in his Wizard and the risk that the phrase carried, hurriedly slipped out from under his fur coat, wrenching out another faint smirk from Douxie, pretty much uncontained.

And indeed he was right to do so, for within a couple of seconds Steve returned to the attack, failing to damage him. He shouted a loud "Miss me!", bending over himself... And the snowball got Toby instead. 

The brown-haired boy said nothing. He blinked a few times, then... took it pretty well, all things considered.

He had a snowball handed to him by Aaarrrgh—with a theatricality that made Douxie chuckle out loud, near to start cackling as if he was drunk—shooting it with all the speed he was able to in the direction of the blond and striking him square in the face. 

The gesture tore an expression from Steve that was nothing short of comical. And then a burst of thunderous laughter at Toby, who for a moment almost choked on his saliva. 

" Buttsnack ! You'll pay for this!" Steve said loudly. "And you too, Dumbledork !" 

Douxie grinned openly. "Hadn't I become Obi-wan before?" He asked, immediately readying the snowball and bending over as if to make a baseball throw. It whizzed through the air, bumping into the boy's side. 

"Not anymore!" Said the blond, shrieking loudly at the impact. "Dammit!"

In any case, shortly after throwing, Hisirdoux was hit again on the opposite side of the shoulders. He turned his head, noticing Claire with a blatant, mischievous smirk painted on her face that caught him off guard. And that broadened the smile on his face. 

"Oops," she said, snatching a stifled laugh from him. 

She was not sorry. Not even a little. And Claire grabbed another snowball, at the same time that Steve was already throwing one at Toby and Toby was returning the blow. And she threw it at Jim, catching him on his back, since he was staring at the two boys. 

"Really?" Quipped the Trollhunter, who was briefly shocked before laughing out loud, then bracing himself and throwing it back at her. "That's cheating! And betrayal!"

Claire laughed in turn and dodged. The blow landed on Blinky's face, who was just behind the girl. "What, did you think I was going to stand by and watch? I was always good at dodgeball!" 

"That doesn't change that it is treason! It was behind me!" 

"Well, if you remember that time you got me in the face with the ball…" she said, still mischievously. 

"I already apologized for that!" 

Douxie, partly watching, partly avoiding the ball thrown back to him by Steve, and partly turning his weapon over in his hands, reached Jim in turn in the back even before the latter saw it coming, jerking him around and causing him to look at him with wide eyes. 

"Seriously?" He said with a shocked tone and expression, his mouth trying to say something but failing to formulate an actual word, especially at first "...You too? You both are disloyal!" 

"The only rule is that there are no rules! Where it comes, it goes!" He smirked again in response, going back to bending down and grabbing new ones in total nonchalance. His fingertips were icy, but he didn't even notice. 

And from that one sentence to Douxie's utter amusement and the obvious fun of the others, the real fight began.

Numerous snowballs continued to be thrown from all sides. Laughter, shouts, and jokes of defiance spread through the night air, even covering the wind, which had become an insignificant background and little more.

There was not even so much of a chill left between running and throwing, chasing and bending to escape the direct blows that continued to be delivered at a rapid pace from left to right, reaching everywhere and everyone. 

No one was spared. Not even Archie who was flying and trying to dodge as best he could. He had failed miserably, especially since some of them, not even directed at him, ended up on him after he had barely managed to avoid the previous ones. 

None of them seemed to want to stop. One throw followed another, a moment's pause stuck in less than it should have and led to new action. Not even Steve's brief slip stopped the blond from getting back on his feet and throwing a grape-sized ball directly at Douxie's nose. A blow that didn't even hurt him, in all honesty, but had caused him to shake his head like a dog trying to remove all the water on him. And having him grinning a toothy unhinged smile.

Everything ended just as suddenly, however, just as it had begun, removing—even if only partially—the playful mood that had been formed between them all.

They were covered with snow everywhere and panting as if they had run miles and miles. But it was not fatigue or shortness of breath that was the reason for the interruption. 

"Hey, look up," suddenly intervened Archie, leading Hisirdoux to jerk his head up, at first in alarm, losing several heartbeats on the way and immediately thinking the worst with mild mental expletives at himself and his total distraction... But then dropped his snowball to the ground in shock, with a pleasant flicker of emotion rattling in his chest and leaving his mouth gaping. 

The sky above their heads had gone from almost black to a different view. And not because of a Jump . No, Anadyr was below them, perfectly visible… and it was still too early, timing-wise. 

"That's so cool! No, really, what the heck! How cool is that!" Immediately shouted Toby, not tearing the words out of Douxie’s mouth, perhaps, but certainly sharing his feeling. Total admiration was moving around inside his chest like a hurricane.

Strips of green, teal, purple, and pink had started tracing it like lightly shaded watercolor. The ' painting ' was huge, to say the least. In part they looked like strict lines, they were all together and zigzagged in the sky in a stupendous orchestra of hues. They gave the whole castle something phosphorescent and poetic, even more supernatural than it already was. 

"Woah..." said Claire, surprise inscribed in those four letters. 

" Great Gronka Morka.. ." asserted Blinky instead in a mumble, as Aaarrrgh returned to its low-pitched noise that sounded like a hum and an engine at the same time. 

Douxie said nothing, merely looking at it. He sensed Archie returning to his shoulder and petted him behind the ears. It was not the first time they had seen such a natural event, the two of them, but the emotions caused by it were always the same, always vivid, always accompanied by the wish that it would not be the last one of their existence. That it would remain etched in their memory. 

Steve gasped like a fish out of water for a couple of seconds, then took out his cell phone. "Group photo!" He shouted as soon as it was between his fingers. "Let's take a group photo with the weird light show behind us!" 

"It's called Aurora Borealis, Steve," Archie said. "But if we stand on the balcony, I don't see why it couldn't be done."

And indeed it was possible, Douxie noted once he found himself posing. 

He could feel Aaarrrgh behind him, Archie leaning against the right side of his neck, Steve, also on his right—slightly forward than him because he was the one with the cell phone in his hand, intent on preparing the selfie—and Claire on his left, followed by Jim, Toby, and Blinky. From the balcony, the perspective was such that it showcased the Aurora, letting it appear not just as a sort of purplish-green tint yielded to their figures, but just as a clear and rather defined background. 

Around him, everyone had enthusiastic expressions and arms flowing over each other's shoulders. He was somewhat surprised—even if only for a few seconds and for the total lack of expectation-—already by perceiving the blond boy's elbow on the side of his shoulder that was closest to him and the girl's arm sliding along the other. Jim's hand was also touching him, albeit only with his fingertips—probably only because his arm was totally around Claire, but she was still close enough that the boy was touching him, too.

The close general contact and the fact that he was being touched by so many at the same time made him feel slightly uncomfortable, but he pretended not to. He pushed back the emotion, not wanting to let it grip him. 

He wanted to relax, not return to the usual, lingering state of anxiety. He succeeded, throwing out all the air that had been locked in his lungs, watching it slip from his lips as if he was smoking a cigarette. 

Before the picture was taken, Hisirdoux ended up smiling—something small and perhaps a little drawn out, but not even that much—bringing one hand to his familiar's shoulder blades and dipping his fingers into its fur, while the second… He really didn't know where to put it, exactly. He simply left it inside one of his pants pockets. 

********

Nari smiled, watching the landscape and the scene in the distance from Merlin's study.

A small part of her looked at the snow and felt a tiny nostalgia toward Skrael, the Skrael he had once been before his power also went to cool his heart and mind. The other side, on the other hand, had earlier wanted to come down and join her protectors, seeing them playing in the snow. It seemed quite funny to her. 

But Nari knew she had to stay with Merlin, who was going through various scrolls and books, swirling them in the air at the same time, while adding Precious Stones, perfectly cut and engraved—for greater resonance—to the Iron Circle containing the Seal of Solomon. 

He had moved deftly, as he always did, and had continued to work almost uninterruptedly, occasionally approaching her to look at the window, having noticed that the Guardian Group, his Apprentice, and the dragon familiar were outside the rooms of Camelot. 

The first time he had seen them, he had muttered a simple "I told them not to make a fuss...Children." tearing a slight smile from Nari at the tone that was used. 

A smile that had widened due to the simple fact that, however, whether willingly or unwillingly, he had often returned to look at them, more feigning exasperation than anything else. To her, the man was quite readable at times.

Chapter Text

TRACK 6

Cause we could stay at home and watch the sunset

But I can't help from askin', "Are you bored yet?"

And if you're feelin' lonely, you should tell me

Before this ends up as another memory

Will you tell the truth so I don't have to lie? 

(Are you bored yet - Wallows ) 

********

"You are weird," said Steve suddenly in Douxie's direction without any play of words, seconds after everyone had settled down on the mattresses they had brought into the room. 

That one comment led the appointee to look at him with a confused but partly amused expression. He lay there on his stomach, the book under his nose, with the familiar leaning against his side. "Thank you...?" he said. 

"No, really," insisted the blond. And Jim could see him half melting his brains trying to explain anything he wanted to get at, even beginning to gesticulate, legs crossed under all his weight. "You're like… super cool. You kinda look like a sex symbol and an emo guy that you don't want to mess around with. The kind who always gets into fights. Like, I don't know, you probably would help your friends to hide a dead body. But at the same time, you're more responsible. And well, mysterious."

' Did he really just say that out loud?' Jim thought, surprised and weirdly amused. 

Douxie arched his eyebrow, with something of a weirded-out look on his face. Then he smiled. "It depends on who's the corpse. And which hour you ask me." 

Steve gasped. "Wha… really?" 

"You should request an appointment, though. Work shifts leave me with a somewhat messy schedule." He tilted his head, then leaned his chin against his palm with a smirk that visibly tasted like soft teasing. "Previous clients have always paid me, but in case I can make an exception."

Jim couldn't help but snort. 

Archibald made a hoarse sound. Claire and Toby had tightened their lips and were trembling, restraining themselves from bursting out laughing. The blond boy's shocked expression had been TV show-like, really. 

"...You're joking, right?... Right?" Asked Steve, white in the face just like a sheet, looking at him mildly anxious, fidgeting on the spot, hardly knowing how to put his upper limbs together. 

"Yes, Steve." Douxie ended up saying, sighing and shaking his head, a grin painted on his face, then returning his gaze to the book as all of them burst out laughing for good, some sooner and some later. "Of course I'm joking."

"So you've never buried anyone...?" He asked again after a while. "Dealt drugs? Never robbed a bank?"

"No, no, and no." The raven-haired boy started flipping between the first few pages nonchalantly.

"Never backed up a mafia boss?" 

Douxie looked at him, saying nothing verbally, merely speaking through an offended look, both eyebrows arched. He seemed to say 'Who the hell do you think I am ?' 

"Okay, no." Said the blond, raising his hands in the air, as if to show that he had raised the white flag, reminiscent of a thug ready for arrest. "But are you really a model, a college student, a waiter, a bookseller, a singer, and a magician at the same time? I mean, it doesn't seem possible. How are you still breathing?" 

"It doesn't seem possible to you because it's not. And no, I am neither a model nor a college student. The rest, yes, but my jobs are part-time." He replied. He frowned in his observation of the page in front of him, almost caressing the paper. 

Jim stared at him, very confused. "But at Arcadia they said you were? At least for the college student thing, if I remember correctly?" 

Hisirdoux returned the glance, barely shrugging his shoulders. "They were rumors. You go one too many times looking for a ghost that haunts the bathrooms and the Chemistry classroom with another student and suddenly everyone thinks you're a local and starts talking, spreading fake news." 

"Ghost?" Asked Toby, widening his eyes. "Whaaaat…"

"You really aren't a model?" Asked Steve instead, not even having stopped listening to the speech from there, showing visible shock. "How is that possible?" 

Douxie closed the book, perhaps realizing that no one would let him read anyway. "Yes, a Ghost. She kept making vials and flasks explode and possessed students whenever her ex-boyfriend received interest from his classmates. It was a mess to try to convince her to move on." He asserted, moving strands of hair around, absentmindedly fiddling with them. "And again, no, I'm not a model. A couple of photographers and painters have tried to convince me over the years, but I never agreed."

"Why not?" Asked Claire, intrigued, stealing Jim's question, which had been on the tip of his tongue.

He was silent for a few moments, wrinkling his nose, his lips tight. 

"Immortality. Eternal nineteen-year-old," he then said, suddenly serious, in an almost detached voice, as Archie went to move from his side to his arms, bringing the raven-haired boy to caress him, already appearing more relaxed just because of his presence. 

"Wouldn't it be bad to find oneself on a calendar, a magazine, a flier or a painting from the nineteenth or early twentieth century... only to be found accidentally by someone who saw it, by internet or not, in the present, identical to how I was before? It is like leaving a trail. A trail to connect the dots of," a pause. "Of course, I could have simply said that the person photographed or painted was a relative, but... As extremely similar as they are, a parent and a child are never that much alike. And if someone who is very, very bad, who knows that most Wizards age more slowly or that they have the misfortune not to... If that someone did the math and came up with the correct numbers..." he did not complete the sentence, continuing to stroke Archie in silence.

And then he sighed before speaking again. "...It may sound silly and paranoid, but even a detail like that can cause huge trouble. I will gladly live without it."

'Oh .'  Jim could not help but try to imagine the situation. It seemed distant and difficult to him, but he understood the need to hide, remembering how he had tried to avoid sharing too much about being the Trollhunter, even with his mom. Partly because no one would have believed him, partly because expressing it was more complicated than it seemed, and partly to avoid making new enemies. 

"Like ending up in Area 49-B?" Asked Steve out of the blue. Douxie simply nodded. 

"But you're a musician? Isn't that a problem, too, then?... If they were filming you…"  Toby brought his hands to his knees and rubbed the fur between his fingers with slight nervousness, tilting his head. 

"The Ashes Dispersal Pattern Group wears masks during their songs," Claire suddenly said, looking at her friend with the expression of someone who was calculating several things at once and then passing her gaze to Douxie, who nodded again. 

"And they don't ask questions? The other members of your band, I mean. Except for the other witch." asked Jim. 

"No. All four of us are strongly magic related… and we like our privacy," he shrugged. "The public doesn't mind so much, too. It heightens the suspense a bit."

"If you don't mind me asking, going kind of off topic," Blinky intervened. "How many wizards and witches are present in Arcadia, exactly?" 

"Mmmmm... We are steadily increasing, but as far as I know, the Coven is ten members at the moment. There are a couple of loners, including myself… And a witch named Vanessa, who even came from a European city inhabited only by Mages, because she had heard how big Arcadia's magical community was getting, even living between humans." 

Archie shot him a look as he paused.

"You're a loner?" Asked Steve. "So cool, bro!" 

"Not really, but… I'm not the kind who stays somewhere for too long, so, yeah. I'm not one of the Coven." For a second, he had a weird look on his face. "But, whatever… Anyway, you may not realize it perhaps, but Arcadia Oaks is a can of worms when it comes to magical creatures. Some of which I, too, am not aware of. And perhaps neither are they."

They all gasped as if they had received an unexpected slap right in the face.

"Pepperjack had only been talking about Trolls, Creepers, Aliens, and Wizards," Steve quipped, his eyes almost out of their sockets. 

"Well, he wasn't wrong. Those you just said, they are in there… though I haven't the bloody idea of who you mean by saying Creepers, exactly." 

"By Creepers he means Goblins. And the Gnomes. And many other creatures at the same time." Said Claire in Douxie's direction.

He snorted. "Oh. Okay. Good to know," Douxie then chuckled. "Let's just say, though, that many species are really, really good at hiding. And it's actually normal that he didn't realize that they were in the city, too."

"Are they dangerous? Or are they friendly? What creatures are there?" Asked Toby. 

"A mixture. Sirens, Nymphs, a few Kitsune, a Iemisch... In short, various kinds. Some just want to be left alone. Others can be quite annoying, but all in all, they're fine." Said Archie, starting to walk along the mattress, left and right. "Wizards, loners or not, are mainly concerned with driving out those who give trouble to the city they are in. And that could reveal them all."

"Yeah. Especially when it comes to Demons..."

"Those are more than troublesome. They are harmful."

"Like time bombs." Douxie agreed with a sour smile, like his own tone of voice.

"Demons?" Toby gaped, first almost frightened, then suddenly excited. "Does that mean Angels exist too?" 

Douxie and Archie exchanged a look. 

"We've never seen any of them, but as far as we know, they do exist, yes," said the dragon. 

"Awesome Sauce!" Toby's eyes sparkled with happiness. The eagerness to see one showed in both his gaze and the movements of his body. Indeed, he had started to shake one of his legs intermittently, causing the sole of his shoe to rub on the floor and at times to tap against it. 

"But is it normal that there are so many creatures in Arcadia? Is this common everywhere else in the world, or is California an exception to the rule?" Asked Jim, curious. 

"There is a myriad of them around the earth," replied Douxie. "Some cities have more, some have less. It depends on the nature of the place, on the magical resonance... From the climate itself that you find in the country. Sure, there are fewer of them than how many there were before, but…Still enough." A small pause. "Here in Russia, there are several. St. Petersburg for example screams with magical resonance." 

He looked at him with surprise. 'So it's...? ' He went to look and point to the map of the Continents. "Is that why the writing of some cities is so big? Because it is full of magic?"

He nodded. So did Archibald, adjusting his glasses on his snout, always moving uninterruptedly.

"The Shantar Islands are also written with large letters," observed Claire suddenly, passing her gaze several times between the parchment and the Wizard, her brow slightly furrowed. "Wasn't that one of our stops?" 

"Yes. It is, and it's the one we'll end up at in a few hours." Douxie brought his hand to his chin, appearing thoughtful, still wrinkling his nose, before looking up again as a faint smile crossed his lips. "Are you finished with the interrogation or do you have more questions?" He asked in a slightly joking tone. 

"I have one." Intervened Toby, almost jumping on the spot. "Do you happen to be hiding aces up your sleeve?"

"You mean hidden abilities except for magic...?" The raven-haired boy raised his eyebrow, the expression of someone who didn't know what exactly to answer, and suddenly something flashed inside his gaze. 

Another fact that Jim would not have expected at first glance from him… but that, mixed with the speech he had given to Claire before agreeing to teach her, definitely began to remove the image of the boy—the extremely self-confident and blustery one—that he had built up in the beginning, smashing it to smithereens.

"No, no. I really mean the ace. In a literal way. A respected Wizard should have it!" He said. He looked at Douxie with satisfaction, pulling his own out of his shirt with a happy smile, making Jim laugh. 

"You're not confusing him with the circus or fake magicians who do the tricks, acts, and all the rest?" Said Claire with a quizzical look, somewhat amused. 

Toby tried to retort, but Archie interrupted him with a hoarse, choked sound, casting Douxie yet another accomplice glance, the kind the two were constantly throwing at each other. "The whole deck, too."

"More than one, too, then." Hisirdoux chuckled.  And he started to make appear cards upon cards from both hands after a slight flick of the wrist, so much that they seemed to form a veritable three-hundred-and-sixty-degree fan, then leaving them on the low wooden table that was a short distance from him. "Trump, Uno, Poker, Tarot, and many others. You're welcome to play whenever you want."

" Bro ," said Steve, grabbing a few and looking Douxie in the eyes in bewilderment as everyone—including Jim himself, who didn't think he'd ever seen so many cards on a table at the same time, even in the movies—stretched out to look at the decks. Jim ended up with first the Temperance Tarot in his hands, then the Lovers' Tarot. " Wow..."

"Show us more! More magic! That's so cool." Toby was really, really excited. So much so that he blocked out anything the blond would have said next. And he put both hands together, almost as if he were praying, exhibiting puppy-dog eyes that Jim had seen him do on very few occasions. Mostly games related. "Please! Please, please, please!" 

"Well, okay." Douxie replied after a moment of silence, his gaze resting on his rune bracelet. "But first, may I ask you something?"

Toby nodded quickly, smiling a toothy smile, already excited by the idea of what came next .

"Once, in the city, on my way back to my apartment, I saw you bent over a manhole in the middle of the street, while shouting at the top of your lungs the phrases engraved on the Amulet..." He tilted his head again but to the other side. Then let out a cough, visibly trying to hold back laughter. "What on earth were you doing on that occasion? Why inside a manhole of all places… and in broad daylight, risking being run over? I tried to imagine, but I swear I don't get it."

Toby blinked a couple of times, only to remember, probably, because he widened his eyes and gasped before speaking. "Ah! That! Basically, Jimbo had gotten a strange necklace that had half possessed him, making him become a whole other person, to the point where he actually went to challenge Bular in the sewers. That's all. I was trying to help him out."

Jim remained silent, confused. Then he mentally connected the image of the Grit-Shaka situation and slammed both hands in his face, blushing with embarrassment. "Ugh. Don't remind me." 

When he looked around again, he found himself meeting the gaze of the raven-haired boy, who stared at him in confusion, but without saying a word. 

Archie did not have the same delicacy of his Wizard. "Why?" he asked, showing in turn something of a weirded-out look.

Jim made a frustrated sound. "It was a self-confidence necklace, okay? There was the Romeo and Juliet kiss in the theater rehearsal, and I thought it was a good idea because I had been too tense. But it worked out too much and I almost killed myself because of it."

"So that was why you were acting so weird!?" Exclaimed Claire gaping like a fish out of water. "I thought you got your male periods that day. That you were simply acting stupid like every male teenager alive."

"Hey!" Exclaimed Steve and Toby at the same time. 

"Sorry not sorry. It's the truth"

Jim did not respond at first, blushing even more. He felt his face go up in flames. "Yeah, well, no. My way of acting was just the consequence of a very bad idea. This is why I'd like us to cancel the topic and never return to it. But really never again, thank you."

"Whatever you say." Quipped Hisirdoux, as Steve instead said, "I'll mark that down." leading him to look at the blond crookedly and throw a pillow in his face, tearing a squeal from him.

"No, you don't." He blurted out, later taking the pillow back."I have enough blackmail material to throw at you, you don't want me to start trash-talking."

Steve went back to raising both hands in the air. "I have no idea what you're talking about. No, Sir."

"But, then… You were watching over us?" Asked Claire suddenly, blocking him from saying anything else. 

"Not really," replied Douxie. "Archie and I were keeping an eye on the town and the forest in general. Being Vigilantes is our job, wherever we may be. We knew who the Trollhunter was and a lot of other things, but..." he shrugged, bringing his arm behind his neck and looking at the dragon. "Master Merlin made us promise in the Middle Ages not to meddle in Troll affairs until he decided we could. Don't ask me why, I don't know. But we were kinda busy anyway, so even if he hadn't made us do it, it was unlikely to happen."

"...Oh. And when we first met each other...?"

He shrugged. "It was just for the Battle of the Bands. I was supposed to come with Zoe, the Technomancer I already talked about, but she was pretty pissed off at the world that day, so to avoid scaring the fuzz out of people, I came alone," a pause. "Although I must say I was distracted to find out that there was a new Shadowmancer around. You lot are pretty rare, you know." He smiled a bit—Jim frowned just a little and shook his head to clean it from unwanted thoughts—then turned to Steve. "If you think I look like someone who gets into fights over nothing, I assure you, Zoe is worse. I look like one, she simply is. Even worse than a bloody chihuahua."

Steve opened his mouth and closed it. Then he opened it again. "Aja is my kicking-ass Angel, so I don't disapprove of that."

"Huh. Masochist. Good for you." Douxie grinned. 

"...Magic?" Repeated Toby with a dreamy look, still showing his puppy-dog eyes as if they were his best weapon. 

"Ah, yeah. Pardon me. Right away," he said. 

And indeed, he did not make himself wait long. He immediately went to run his fingers over the rune bracelet, making them glow in the night.

The blue light accentuated the tips of his dark blue hair, while the black strands also seemed to turn bluish. It gave him something perhaps vaguely ghost-like, even highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. And it made the room luminescent, with shading so pronounced that what was around looked like a cave. The flames lit on the torches attached to the walls only increased the feeling. 

In less than ten seconds, the boy created what seemed to be a cascade of blue light that appeared to swirl in the air, at first small and barely noticeable, then gradually growing larger and larger. 

At first, except for the poetic and graceful appearance—seeing it move from one side of the room to the other like a raging river overflowing its banks—it did nothing much. Not that Jim would have complained about it; it was a beautiful sight. 

But then it started to compact and destroy itself pretty quickly, rotating in and on itself, as if it were following a pattern. And then, again, started to show various images representing scenes or landscapes. Or even both at the same time. 

People dance in fancy clothes. Birds taking flight and circling each other as if they were competing. Circus people performing their acts, including one who used his ring. Galloping horses that went skimming over the tidal waves. Fireworks. A moving snowman… 

The images were clear, almost lucid. Jim couldn't help but allow himself to observe them, feeling a strong emotion that felt like inner peace. It started to run through him everywhere. It enveloped him from within, leaving him almost breathless. 

For over a moment, he forgot the context in which he found himself, the dangers that were likely to follow, and all kinds of negative emotions he had felt during those weeks. Even fear was only a distant perception, buried a little more every second. 

Jim felt free, light as a feather. 

He shot a look at the Wizard, whose face had the softest smile. And another piece of his dislike shattered. 

********

Claire was tired, but in very good spirits when it was over. 

The mattress underneath her suddenly felt soft, although previously it had almost seemed hard. Compared to her bed at home, it was, but her momentary perception had improved. Perhaps it was because of how heavy her eyelids felt.

She knew it was her turn to stand to watch, theoretically, so she forced herself to stand to avoid giving in to sleep, leaning her back against the wall and crossing her arms.

Watching the room from there was fun. She felt like she was attending a sleepover instead of a potentially dangerous mission, with all those beds scattered around the room. 

The last one she had been to had happened between her, Darcy, and Mary ... and all the talk had revolved around boys, school, cute clothes, and new TV shows.  And partly about Not-Enrique.

A wave of nostalgia gripped her from head to toe just at the thought. She missed her school girlfriends. She missed her little brothers and her parents more than she would have liked to admit to herself. 

She had always defined herself as a responsible person, an almost grown-up girl with clear goals and all the skills to be able to achieve them, but at times the visceral lack of her parents reminded her how young she still was underneath. 

Not that young, of course. Not a child for sure, but still far from the status she wanted to achieve. She needed that something extra that adults seemed to have but that she lacked. That stability that made many things easy for them, that opened them up to possibilities and made them perhaps hesitate at times, but that underneath still led them to the destination they seemed to have wanted all along.

She tried to keep down her thoughts, swallowing hard, as if she were trying to gulp down food that she had not chewed enough and thus got stuck in her throat. It was hard, but it worked. 

So her gaze returned to the others in the midst of the almost pitch blackness, lit by the blue flames that burned without making the slightest noise, simply moving just above their sticks. They were almost all asleep. Almost.

Blinky was awake, though not far from being gripped by the dream world, while Douxie was reading the giant book, having one of his headphones in his right ear and stroking Archie with the hand that was not busy turning pages, his left one. The familiar's purr could also be heard in the distance, loud and almost continuous.

She still had a couple of questions to ask him, in all honesty, but after all of them had almost bombarded him with them, she had chosen to defer to an imprecise 'sooner or later .' Maybe the next day, maybe the one after that... She would decide that later, depending on the turn of events. And not before her lessons on Shadowmancy. She would not postpone them for any reason in the world if that was possible, but even that depended on the generic progress of the journey of the castle from town to town… and the speed with which the Arcane Order was trying to gain ground on them.

Thinking back about the two half-goddesses and the Green Knight gave her the chills. An opposite feeling from the peace and instinctive sense of protection that rose up in her just by seeing Nari, increasing her desire to be able to help her. And the Shadows Portals were definitely one way, a more than useful weapon in her unfortunately limited arsenal. 

She started to stroke her arm, then tightened the fur around herself a bit more, resting her gaze on the covered window and then moving again, opening it slightly. She sent a single glance over the landscape, before immediately closing it, leaving only the curtain aside.

The Jump would happen soon, she realized, even peering at the clock on her phone. After about ten minutes and little else, the castle would move on, taking one of the destinations off the list.

And of course, precisely because she realized this, time seemed to slow down, making the seconds so interminable that they almost had a weight in her head. Perhaps she should actually have found a way to keep herself busy, look for even a silly activity... or even just set herself to look at the decks of cards that, even at that moment, were resting on the table. 

But she chose to lurk at the window a little longer, nibbling the inside of her cheek and making a kind of mental countdown.

As time proceeded at its unnatural slowness, she wondered what it would be like to meet the Keeper of Balance. She hoped he was not like Merlin. And that he was not even worse, like Morgana, even if she doubted it, since he saved his people. If he was like Douxie, that was perfectly fine.

Almost instinctively she imagined an old man like the Emperor from Mulan . And then the master of the Karate Kid , but with a pair of circular glasses on his nose. Then again, she wondered if perhaps he appeared younger instead. 

And she ended up asking herself how exactly wizards aged. It was not at all clear, not having more than three examples to rely on.

'... most Wizards age more slowly or have the misfortune not to ...' Douxie had said if Claire was not mistaken. 'But in what sense? In what sense did some have the jinx of not aging, while others could do so, albeit at a different rate than humans? And why most? Not all of them do?' She wondered then, still biting the inside of her cheek.

'Another question to add to the list, it seems. ' She thought to herself, returning to rest her eyes on Douxie almost instinctively, seeing him than stand up, massaging his temples with small circular motions.

She looked at him with a confused expression, especially at noticing him walking away in the direction of the door. She was tempted to approach him to ask where exactly he was going at that time of the night, but he made soft blue writing appear in the air before she could even try as if he was writing on a transparent blackboard. Or a directly invisible one.

' Bathroom. Be back later. ' He wrote, then made the writing disappear as quickly as it had appeared. She nodded, a bit slower than usual, to potentially avoid sudden dizziness.

Archie, meanwhile, merely sat down, wagging his tail nervously, watching his wizard with something unreadable in his gaze. A look he obviously returned before disappearing from the room, closing the door behind him.

And shortly after he did so, Camelot made its Jump , leading her first to look out the windows—after a short moment of unsettlement—then even to go outside once more to see the diversity of scenery, leaving the window ajar so that the cold would not enter.

They were high enough to show the entire archipelago, dotted with numerous trees, so many that they covered its surface in its entirety. The borders were so defined that they looked almost as if they had been drawn with a pencil. 

Jim appeared on the balcony in turn, distracting her from the view that was proposed before her eyes. He was barely yawning and rubbing a hand over his eyes, trying to banish the sand from his eyes. In a rather tender way, really, mostly because of his hair, all in disarray, almost jaunty. 

"Do you enjoy the scenery?" 

She nodded. 

"Can I join you?" He asked, flanking her, his chest against her back and his chin resting against the crook of her neck, blowing soft hot breath over her skin, tearing shivers from her and barely quickening her heartbeat as butterflies fluttered back into her stomach in total disarray.

She smiled, slipping her fingers between his. "Always," she said, stealing a light kiss from his lips.

********

Douxie was sure he had felt something wrong. 

He had slipped out of the bathroom, enveloped by the scent of soap, of the pleasant sensation of water that had caressed his skin—he had hoped that it would make his agitation go away, just as he had hoped that using as much magic as possible to do soft materializations to entertain the group would tire him enough to put him to sleep anyway, nerves on or not. An utter failure. Both of them—and from the warmth of the spare clothes he had taken from one of the wardrobes—he had not yet ventured back to his old room. He did not find the desire to, for whatever reason. 

And suddenly he thought he heard a faint, not totally unknown melody—he remembered it a little. But he still couldn't pinpoint where he remembered it from—coming from inside the castle.

He had looked around, very confused, partly wondering if his fatigue and the extra sensitivity that was brought on him at night were playing tricks on him, for he saw absolutely nothing alarming inside Camelot. Nothing at all in his view. 

Just quiet eerie corridors in the dark and the magic armors around, echoing with the subtle, cold notes of his Master. No visible danger that could actually give reason to his esoteric ear, nor any other hints of Aura that followed the firsts. 

He thinned his gaze anyway, unconvinced by the calmness, letting himself wander cautiously and silently, his rune bracelet on and his melody whispering sounds of tension and frustration at the same damn time. 

He felt all his hair stand on end and goosebumps on his skin as his heartbeat rumbled like a drum. His blood rushed up and down, roaring inside his head like the sound of the sea.

It really could have been nothing. It could have been seriously his brain that had decided to tease him even more than it already did through all the unwanted flashbacks and mocking thoughts… but his instincts, all of them, whispered to him at the same time that it wasn't. That it wasn't just him being tired. And that something strange was indeed out there.

He just didn't know what. Nor where exactly to look at this point. All he knew was that that hint of melody had been one too many… and the idea that a threat had entered Camelot, but that he had not given a damn because he'd thought it was nothing, well, it didn't sit well with him. But like, not at all. It made him extremely angry at himself. 

The facts were two, though: either he had really imagined it, or the possible enemy could hold his Magic well enough to make its Aura disappear into thin air. And that meant that they were powerful enough to do that. That they had clear control over themselves, over their own magical essence. 

The thought only served to increase the chills that ran down his spine and to quicken the pace of his heart, which seemed to go crazy. So crazy that he wouldn't have been surprised if it actually broke out of the skin and leaped out, landing on the floor with a sick thud.

'Slavic legendary creatures... There are indeed many of them, some immigrating from other territories... But which exactly among them could they be, if there really was an enemy inside the walls of Camelot? And where exactly would they enter from?... The windows are all closed. The same with the main door, and there is a protection spell on the Castle… Am I really hallucinating out of stress or... ' 

He almost had a heart attack when he felt a heavy hand suddenly hit his shoulder, pulling him back a little with its strong dragging force. And stopped breathing. 

Douxie spun around, so much so that he almost lost his balance in his movement, panic assailing both him and his melody, which was overbearing, turning up in volume so much that he could hear every tiniest tremor of the notes.

But instead of danger, he stood before Sir. Galahad. Sir. Galahad looked at him by staring deeply. Almost judging him silently. 

A sigh of relief escaped his lips along with a nervous, partly hysterical laughter. He almost slapped a hand on his face. 

"Are you all right, boy? Shouldn't you be in bed at this hour? Or are you on watch too?"

"Uh... No," he replied in a drawl, swallowing and bringing his fingers to his hair, still feeling his pulse, fast and aggressive… and the music, albeit this time lowered in volume, going back to their soft tunes.

"But I thought I was..." he began. Then he tightened his lips. The knight looked at him in confusion, his big untamed eyebrows covering half of his eyes. "...No, nothing. Just a silly thought."

"Would you like a drink? Some alcohol would do you good." Sir. Galahad extended the flask to him with a very quick flick of his wrist.

A second childish giggle slipped from Douxie's lips, but a little less bizarre and high-pitched than the previous one. "I don't think so, but thanks for the offer," he said. And paused. He still felt all of the knight's attention on him. 

"I'll do a few more patrols and then go to bed," Douxie murmured in a partially convinced tone. Partially , indeed. 

The rest of him begged him not to go back to that room again, not until he had really made sure there was no danger in sight. 

Or perhaps not even after he had done so, perhaps letting himself fall asleep in an isolated chamber, hoping that no one but Archie would come looking for him. That they would forget he existed, as he was so used to people doing, sooner or later.

'Because, really, I don't think I'll get much sleep if I go back there... And I told myself and Claire that we had to be at our best. It would be hypocrisy to say such a thing and then ignore my own advice... And if I really tried to sleep there, I would only end up reading the book of Daoist magic again, hoping it could have a soporific effect, but ending up totally disappointed in my expectations in the early morning... ' he thought to himself. And sighed a bit. 

"As you wish. The offer is still on the table, though." Sir Galahad said again. Douxie smiled a little. 

"Thanks," he whispered.

Chapter Text

TRACK 7

It’s the terror of knowing

What this world is about

Watching some good friends

Screaming “let me out”

Pray tomorrow gets me higher

(Under Pressure - Queen )

********

In the morning, at 7:00, Claire felt she had lost much of her energy on the road. 

She had never thought it was so hard to spend a night almost totally off, just keeping watch, when she had spent several, sleeping only five hours or even less, for hours studying on school tests or for evening activities together with Jim and Toby... But the previous evening, spent trying to pay attention to everything and not fall asleep out of the blue—risking perhaps falling off her face—to finally make the switch with Blinky, had been an immense effort.

And that amount of time she had slept afterward she had not even felt it. It had been as if she had closed her eyes for just a moment, then opened them again and found herself seeing almost everyone standing there, some more, some less ready, having a frightening urge to go back in time or directly ignore it all, allowing herself to doze off again, clutching the pillow and pressing herself to the mattress in silent denial.

But she hadn't. Claire forced herself to get to her feet and walk slowly in the direction of the bathroom. Only rinsing her face, slapping both of her cheeks repeatedly until they burned, allowed her to regain some of her lucidity. Not all of it, but at least enough to focus, to make her notice what was around her in a better way. 

When she returned to the others, in fact, she no longer saw only their blurred figures moving almost indefinitely but began to pay attention to details. 

She noticed how Blinky was adjusting his pants, trying to get out creases that she wouldn't have paid the slightest attention to if the Troll hadn't really started to run all his hands over them. 

She saw how Aaarrrgh was stretching forward, not even as if he were a cat or something before he collected himself and approached the other Troll with a slow, lethargic pace, barely smiling. 

Claire paid attention to how Steve's hair was all backward, not even that he had forcibly moved it and then put hairspray on it, while his eyes were still half-closed from sleep and his cheeks flushed. 

She saw how Toby, on the other hand, already seemed more energetic, talking to Jim about new morning workouts, while the other nodded and offered to prepare breakfast for everyone that morning, as opposed to the previous one which had been a bit messy. A bit like lunch and dinner, after all. 

The attitude at meals had been almost frantic, so much so that it had made it more of a 'grab what you find without particular distinction or care and eat it once it's cooked if necessary .'

And, at last, she noticed how Archie and Douxie were missing from the group. The giant Book of Daoist Magic occupied their place on the mattress. Slight worry enveloped her stomach, accompanied by sudden and insistent anxiety. 

Douxie had not returned to the room after leaving it, as he had said he would, and his familiar had disappeared just as quickly, saying he would go look for him and not to pay any attention to his missing. Before the end of Claire's watch, neither of them had returned.

"Blinky...Have you seen Douxie and Archie?" She asked in a half-voice, approaching the other quickly, her arms crossed over her chest and her fists tightly clenched.

The Troll blinked all over a couple of times. "No, neither of them. I had assumed you knew where they had gone, Fair Claire. Was I wrong?"

She shook her head, tightening her mouth in a thin line. "I thought I knew," she admitted, licking her lips, feeling them suddenly dry, somewhat like her own mouth, which had become drier than a desert. "But I'm beginning to doubt it."

"Maybe they went to Mr. Magic Man?" Quipped Steve, yawning almost like a lion right after he spoke.

"Merlin said not to disturb him except in case of important situations," commented Jim. "I don't think if there was anything urgent, they would have avoided waking us up to let us know."

"Maybe they went to him anyway, just to check? He is Douxie's Master, after all," Toby said.

"Just to get an earful for disobeying?" Claire was somewhat skeptical of the idea. 

" Meh , no, okay. They'd both be the masochistic ones otherwise. Worse than Steve." Toby chuckled, nudging the blond slightly.

"Hey! I'm not a masochist! I simply like badass girls! Who's better than someone like Aja? No one."

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Claire waved her hand, resting her gaze on the door. "The main fact of the matter doesn't change, though..." she paused "Shall we try to find them?"

"Claire, I remind you that this castle is huge! Even with instructions written on the walls, they could be anywhere!" Asserted Toby, waving his hands in the air for emphasis. 

Steve grabbed his phone and then made a face. "Ow! Shoot! I forgot to ask him for his number!" 

Jim raised an eyebrow. "You would have asked him? We're in the same place." 

"Of course, I would have, Lake. To send him the pic, duh! Like I did to all of you. But between questions and stuff I forgot."

"...Aaaaand so we don't have Douxie's cell phone number to text him and ask him exactly where he is," said Toby. 

"Effectively, by the time we would go looking for him, he could already be back here and not find us anymore," Blinky added. "I'm more than sure that his dragon familiar would already be back to ask for help if they needed it."

"What if they are both in trouble?" Insisted Claire, unconvinced. "What if he couldn't come to ask for help?" 

"They could have sent a sentry-like Merlin?" 

"...I think that that could have been both ways. To tell that they were gonna be on their own for a while and to tell that they were in danger. So, or they wanted to tell us but they somehow forgot, or they aren't able to. "

A heavy silence fell. The entire group looked at each other, not knowing what to say. 

"The Knight didn't say anything. Merlin, neither." Jim said suddenly, breaking the silence. He approached her, resting a hand on her shoulder with something of attempted reassurance, which, however, was not enough to clear the feeling of nervousness from her body. Not even a little bit. The emotion was coursing through her, almost running along with her blood. 

Her instincts, for some reason, kept telling her that something was wrong. And that it wasn't okay at all to simply stay there and wait.

"Besides, the bro and his dragon are like two forces of nature! They're two loners by birth. More than that!" Steve made an expression of pure respect, which was quite strange to see when talking about him. "Not as cool as me, but they come close!"

Toby chuckled. Jim, on the other hand, sighed, shaking his head, but was still smiling. 

"Maybe they just needed some air," Blinky added, trying, in turn, to reassure her, probably noticing that it wasn't working. "If they are used to solitude, maybe they needed to be away from us for a while. They could perhaps be described as partial introverts."

Claire forced herself to nod. The reasoning all in all was kind of right. It might as well have been. However... 

She gritted her teeth, throwing out air, partially trying to let it go. She hoped with all her might that the others were right, but she perceived the expectation of confirmation more than negatively. 

Because if she was right instead, he and Archie could really be in trouble. And they were not helping them by waiting for the two to come back. 

'I don't want it to be real, but... I have a really bad feeling... ' she thought, starting to clutch the fur coat in her hands. 

It passed something like ten minutes, but still nothing. They decided to leave the room to have breakfast and they wrote a hasty note that they placed prominently on the table so as to warn them in case they actually came back, asking them to join them later inside the pantry. 

Claire, before following the others, looked at that piece of paper with a slight grimace painted on her face.

********

Nari saw Merlin perfectly cut the last of the gemstones to be added to the Seal of Solomon, his wrist movements controlled with a care that would have been almost abnormal had it not been him they were talking about. 

'It should be enough this way,' she thought, going to join her own hands and repeatedly letting her gaze run over each Core 'There are all of them.'

And indeed there were. Thirteen kinds of precious stones, left both where the star touched the circle that bounded it, and at the meeting points of the sides of the form, and the center of it, in that solid hexagon. 

The Ruby, for the fire of creation. Not too much so that instead of melting, it would destroy anything. It was at the tip of the equilateral triangle facing upward. 

Rock Salt, for purification. So that evil spirits of the Abyss and creatures attracted to the energy would stay away and not ruin the Core of the mechanisms. Placed in the tip of the same triangle to the left of the previous stone

Topaz, the stone of the sun and life. The mechanisms would have a life of their own. In the tip to the right. 

Amber, a symbol of energy, is accompanied by Magnetite, Iolite, and Cat's Eye. All perfect sources of electricity, of the resonant conductors, of the stabilization of flow, and from amplification. All scattered at some of the meeting points of the two triangles, in the form of a square. 

The Mother of Pearl, the stone of the sea, is in perfect opposition to the Ruby. In the point of the equilateral triangle directed downward. 

The Serpentine, a symbol of the magnetism that would connect them with the other pieces and with each other. Opposite and parallel to the Rock Salt. 

Selenite, symbol of time and its inexorable flow. This in large quantities, counting that the Heart of Avalon would take them to a bygone era. And every part had to be ready and imbued with those abilities. But not discordantly in comparison with the other parts. Exaggeration and lack could have been detrimental, to say the least. In the center of the hexagon. 

The Jurai for contact with Mother Earth, so that the spell was anchored and stable in the vital Core that inhabited the planet. But still that it was limited, lest it starts stealing life from the ground in an unreciprocated exchange. Had it been so, it would not have turned away from Dark Magic. That stone could indeed prove a double-edged sword if in large doses. The fifth point of intersection is on the left. 

The Moonstone. It was capable of listening to certain wishes, according to legends, but instead connecting with the higher reaches of the transcendental world, to allow a closeness to the eternal. Opposite to the Topaz. 

And finally, the Diamond. A symbol of perfection since the birth of the Earth, placed at the remaining point of intersection of the star. A more-than-necessary ingredient in such a complicated creation work, where the smallest wrong move could screw up the entire project in the blink of an eye.

At that point, the only thing missing was the material to work with. And Dalai Sun would have it. Or at least—counting that a Sorcerer had more than a little difficulty with even the idea of giving up their skills and the tools on which their essence was founded—they hoped that would be the case. 

Nari had helped with Core extraction as much as possible. Same in the precise measurement of doses. She had tried to consider whether to replace one of the energy stones with perhaps one that would create a shield of protection, but of the two, the energy amount was the most important. It was why they were in that situation instead of having already jumped into the past. 

"You should go get some sleep, Nari," Merlin said after stepping away from the Seal, looking at her warily. "The last step cannot be accomplished until we arrive at our destination."

Nari smiled and shook her head slightly. "I'm not tired," she said, taking a few slow steps forward in the direction of the window, resting a hand on the glass, and finding herself looking at the sea that was being shown from the view, then turning around. "You should do it, you've worked tirelessly so far."

"Will you go to the Guardians?" Asked Merlin, barely tapering his gaze and only following several seconds of silence, nodding. "As you wish." He said, "But if anything should happen, do not hesitate to come for me. I'll accom—" 

"I can find them without any problem, thank you." She smiled openly, resting a hand on the man's tired face, marked by old age and stress that he tried to hide through a composed expression and stern gaze, partly torn apart by the world's constant self-destruction in its pathological chaos. "Rest, Merlin," she whispered. 

She barely saw him nod before she left the room with a quick, light step. The Sight, Smell, Touch, and Sound of Merlin's Apprentice's Aura, still dancing in the curtains he had created and seeding the castle with immense delicacy and gaiety, tore an amused expression from her. 

Nari felt much more than Hisirdoux Casperan's Aura. She felt part of his personality. His intentions. His frailties. There was something weird, too. Something weird and pretty rare, but not in a bad way for her. 

She felt as if she knew him, almost. 

The little half-goddess let only the tip of her left foot graze the floor in front of her, as she allowed her energy to sing into her, traveling along it until it reached the ground in turn.

The roots immediately started whispering and flashing with their tepid texture. And so to search around her, trying to figure out what direction to take. 

This, however, restrained her sharply, causing her to notice something extremely unusual. So unusual that it made her hold her breath and turn her head in an almost mechanical way, which had it been quicker perhaps would have brought her dizziness or a momentary stiff neck. 

"Oh, no..." she asserted in a whisper, feeling her heart lose a beat and all the plants on her body almost retreat in on themselves. And so she ran back into Merlin's room, throwing the door wide open, tearing a puzzled expression from the man. 

"There is a problem..." she said only, struggling even to speak as mild horror stirred in her gut. 

She did not need to say anything else. Merlin, just then, seemed to realize it himself, for there was a quiver in the ground itself.

********

The more than visible tension in Claire was beginning to affect Jim as well, willingly or unwillingly. 

He, who had started to cook—using what was on hand and improvising because several ingredients were missing, deciding to jump on a Raspberry and Coconut Roll, accompanied by a French sauce his mother loved quite a bit, Fruit Coulis—should have been more relaxed by now. Usually doing so helped him; it always put him in a good mood. 

But the expression that seemed etched on the girl's face, her eyes focused on the outside of the door as if she were quivering to get out of it or to even catch a glimpse of a silhouette behind it… or, again, to hear a faint sound of footsteps, well. It made it complicated for him to focus on the steps he was supposed to take. 

The good luck was that both recipes were fairly simple—The Roll took just a tiny bit longer, but not so long that his friends would stay hours and hours on an empty stomach. It did not require the three hours of resting in the refrigerator, a fact that was more than appreciated—maybe precisely because there was a big shortage of specific ingredients in the pantry. 

If he found himself preparing something where he would need every last millimeter of attention his brain could provide, he highly doubted it would end well. And counting that Claire's tension was rubbing off on him, a galactic disaster would probably happen.

He had tried to reassure her, he had. Even while he paced back and forth around the room between things. 

But it was hard to try to do that when he was beginning to feel the need, almost under his skin, to be sure that nothing was going wrong. And to ask himself questions. 

Constant 'what ifs' began to wander in the meanders of his head, so much so that he tried to get out of them, but only ended up bumping into the next one. And to the next one. And to the next one again. 

'What if Claire was right?' whispered one of the many questions through an insulting little voice in his head 'What if something really did happen?' he bit his lip 'What if we went over it all too lightly?...'

So many 'what ifs' that the fruit he was dicing for making Coulis was... Ugh, it had become so small that it reminded him of ants. And it made it difficult to pick it up, forcing him to drag the small pieces with the knife itself, matching the unsharpened side of the blade with the surface of the table. 

'... As luck would have it, they should theoretically be blended,' he thought once he realized it, managing to escape the mental maze—he had thought of putting them in a bag and crushing them until they became a liquid mush. In part his distraction would make the process even easier for him—and letting an uncertain half-smile escape… That disappeared almost instantly as his stomach seemed to fold in on itself from discomfort, leading him to swallow with difficulty. 

'What if it had been better to try to find them anyway just in case? Maybe split up to have a better chance of success?' 

"How much you're gonna take, Lake?" Asked Steve suddenly, splitting the blanket of his thoughts and causing him to roll his eyes just in exasperation. 

"As long as it takes," he replied, casting him a glance before returning to the chopped fruit, shoving it into the plastic bag, and closing it with an experienced hand.

"Yes, all right. But how long is it going to take?" Insisted the blond behind him. Jim was reminded of Donkey from the second Shrek movie with his repetitive 'Are we there yet? '

The thought made him snort just before shaking his head. It was an odd comparison, the kind that led him to wonder what movie characters they all might resemble. A kinda stupid question that he removed just as quickly, not wanting to distract himself even more. Not until he had finished preparing everyone's breakfast, at least. Then later, perhaps, he would think about it. 

"Patience, Steve," he said, forcing himself to stay in the present in the hope that it would be a way to get away from the uncertainties. "Food doesn't make itself. Unless you just grab any fruit and eat that directly without any cooking step."

He barely heard him huff, but Steve stopped complaining. In return, he could hear the faint tapping of Claire's finger on the table, even if partially buried by Toby's loud yawning. 

In any case, the room had indeed grown quieter than the norm. 

And it was strange compared to the chatter-filled breakfast the day before. It had been so… lively. Although mainly occupied with attempts to explain to Nari, it had had something more. A distinct tranquility that, on the other hand, was strongly lacking this time. 

He started crushing the pieces of fruit, through continuous smacks with the right instrument—not too hard... It would have been a dilemma to recover all the juice in the second case—quickly coming out of his head for the umpteenth time. He ended up looking at the door too, like a magnet with iron. 

There was no one there. And there was only silence outside, accompanied by the whispers of the wind and the sound of the sea below, which, however, was faint and difficult to listen to in earnest. There was an almost eerie stillness. The kind of calm that was so extreme as to seem exaggerated, even out of place. 

All the hair stood up on his head in one fell swoop. The same thing those present on his arms. And he really could not understand why, counting that absolutely nothing had changed. 

Claire, as if she sensed it in her turn—whatever this 'thing' was—snapped and raised to her feet, tearing a gasp from almost everyone. 

"I can't wait anymore. I'm going to see where they are," she said, dryly marching immediately in the direction of the door. 

"Wait! You're going to see where exactly?" Asked Steve, in turn getting up and following her. 

"I don't know. I'm just going to see around. If you want to come with me, go ahead." She asserted in a low voice, turning only for a few seconds and biting her lower lip, then turning back to look at them all and trying to leave, holding her hand against the door. "I'm going to be the quickest as possible. In case I find them, I'll send a message and bring them here, otherwise..."

She didn't have time to finish the sentence. 

Before she could do so—and before she could seriously start looking, though—something was heard that caused them all to widen their eyes, almost at the same moment. It caught them totally off guard, so much so that they gasped and looked at each other for a few seconds before rushing off. 

'Was that an explosion? ' He asked himself, barely clenching his fists—not so much as to drive his nails into the flesh—and realizing that yes, it had been exactly an explosion, and yes, it had been inside Camelot.

They came out of the pantry as if there was a bomb in it—There wasn't one, fortunately, because they didn't need that too—trying to pinpoint where the explosion had come from, exactly, counting that it echoed between the walls, making everything shake and even descend hints of pebbles—and not dust, which was quite strange in a castle of that age, but counting that there had been none even on the coat furs, nor on the furniture in general, there must have been a spell underneath—from the ceiling. 

The silence, that almost abnormal silence that had been there before, broke from there in a way so drastic to be almost scary.

So much so that Jim could not help but wonder what the heck had happened and how it was possible to go from one extreme to the other in a couple of seconds. It had indeed gone from complete quiet...to sounds of scuffling, of bizarre, almost animal-like noises. And of glass, of undefined objects smashing repeatedly, causing large thuds. 

The smell of smoke began to flood the corridors, making them all cough a little. Jim tried to cover his face with his hand, his eyes barely squinting and watering. 

They started to run like there was no tomorrow, going up and down the stairs at top speed, taking advantage of the sounds as much as possible. Not that it was easy, though. Figuring out exactly where they were coming from without accidentally deflecting was a real struggle, especially with all those echoes. They just knew they had to get down. Get down a little bit. To where, well, they had no idea. 

Jim just hoped that wherever they ended up there would be curtains on the windows… or he, like Blinky and Aaarrrgh, would be able to do little about it. He mentally cursed just at the thought.

He didn't like the idea of twirling his thumbs. He didn't like the idea of standing by just because it was daylight and the light would prevent him from any kind of activity, perhaps seeing his friends get hurt one after another. And because he was half a Troll. 

His heart seemed to speed up just at the thought, just at the mental image of the hypothetical situation. And it was already fast enough from the unbridled running, so that was saying a lot. The muscle rumbled in his chest at such an unnatural and unstable pace that he would not have been surprised—despite his young age—if he had a heart attack.

********

Claire had been right, and she hated it. For the first time in sixteen years, she hated not being wrong. Something she had honestly never thought was possible. Usually being right filled her with pride, made her feel confident, as if she had won an invisible war or something. 

This was definitely not the case. She had hoped with all her might that she had made wrong assumptions, that she had gotten caught up in overthinking. But she just wasn't. 

She felt a cramp bend her entire stomach and her oxygen totally lacking, as if someone had kicked her repeatedly, leaving her gasping between disappointment and anxiety. 

'I should have insisted,' she thought. ' I should have stuck on my idea or gone directly there on my own right away. Removed the possibility of staying and waiting, and ignored the idea of the drudgery of wandering around the entire castle... Followed or not, I should not have let go of my instincts. Why didn't I listen to myself from the start?'

She forced herself to ignore the questions and possible answers, fearing becoming discouraged in the process, only ending up speeding up even more, lengthening the size of her steps. 

Terror was raging in her chest, and she could feel her own magic stirring in her body, without a hint of control. It seemed ready to come out at any moment. To lash out aggressively against whatever surrounded her. Just the sensation froze the blood in her veins. 

' Your emotion is not you, Claire. Analyze it. And then use it.' Douxie's voice appeared in her mind in a kind of involuntary flashback, causing her to feel a shock and a warm chill that moved down her spine at the lack of expectation, restoring her new lucidity. 

'Stay true to yourself.'

Claire barely swallowed, forcing herself to breathe a little more regularly and do that, albeit still running. 

'Fear .' She told herself, reasoning quickly. 'Fear that it's the Arcane Order or someone equally powerful. Fear that Douxie and Archie got hurt. Fear of not being able to help in any way and just being a burden to everyone. Fear of losing someone because of this very thing. Fear of dying and never seeing my parents or my siblings again.'

Magic was stirring on her fingers, making them almost vibrate. The pressure it brought was strong, somewhat like the feeling that the collar around it was not tight enough, but it was already much better than the feeling of having it out, totally unleashed and without a brake that could help her distinguish and control it.

She needed the psychological hinges, that red sign screaming 'Stop' to make her slow down and let it all out in a more regulated way. 

'I can control it.' She told herself, tightening her lips, determination painting her gaze, building up and focusing that fear until, after an all too long indefinite wandering, in which the group had gone from room to room without respite, the precise location of all that commotion was pinpointed.

It was the room where the Heart of Avalon was located. 

Merlin had said not to go near the source of magical energy, but Claire didn't give a damn about his order. She didn't care when he had ordered it and they had been more or less calm, let alone now that every part of her was screaming to figure out what in the hell was going on. 

In fact, it did not take her long to open the door, throwing it open so suddenly that it crashed against the wall with a rather deafening noise. 

The room, although it was the same one they had already seen on arriving in Camelot, looked so different that the comparison flashed behind her eyelids without even needing to try too hard. 

In it, in addition to smashed vases, curtains partly torn and partly not, glass was on the ground in a sort of non-matching collage, and the hole in the wall—which unfortunately did not open onto one of the many corridors and that was all, but onto the outside, sending in streams of direct light, a view that made Jim, Blinky, and Aaarrrgh stiffen behind her—there was a myriad of winged monsters, comparable to the monkeys in the Wizard of Oz, but precisely with big eagle wings and a reptilian tail, decorated with rotten green scales. 

They were hideous, to say the least; their eyes were small and red, glistening like cockroaches. The drooling mouth was full of razor-sharp canines, and their saliva dripped onto the floor. The dirty fur was similar in color to the tail, but with a brownish tinge that perhaps even worsened the complex. 

Lying on the floor was the old Knight, left in a corner, definitely unconscious. Fortunately, he was still breathing, albeit a tad slowly. But it would have been much worse if he hadn't done it at all. 

Archie was not too far from him, albeit awake. He was inside a sort of semi-transparent box with reddish hues, stuck to the wall as if someone had used vinavil glue. And from the way his fur was upturned, growling—but weirdly silenced— and by how his claws were out, he must have been more than a little furious. He seemed ready to jump down anyone's throat. 

In the center of the room, there was a woman in the back with long platinum blonde hair, straight as spaghetti, that reached the lower part of her back. She wore an elegant dress, quite low-cut, it seemed, of a shiny velvet black and a white cape over it that had small pockets. With her figure, she partially covered Douxie's frame. 

The Wizard, standing there, had a wound on his temple bleeding profusely and his arms crossed in front of him. He was protecting the Heart of Avalon, which was slightly behind him. He seemed to have nothing around him, but when one of the beasts, at that precise moment, tried to throw something at him—a rock, perhaps? It was not clear—it bounced back, showing a shield of a neon light blue just for that instant. It was seen again when one of the creatures tried to throw itself at the boy, but crashed into the barrier and emitted a yelp of pain. 

Their arrival was obviously noticed, by the crashing of the door, so much so that many of the creatures and the woman turned in their direction. The stranger had eyes that resembled a storm, so clear and cold gray that Claire felt chills. She screamed 'danger' everywhere. She was like a snake… or at any rate a born predator. 

A grimace crossed her face. "Oh. New friends are joining the party." She said acidly. Her voice was far too melodious, far too soft for Claire's taste. She had no idea who she was, but if she already hated her in the beginning for what she was doing, her voice only served to get her unnerved even more. 

"Too bad. I was hoping to be almost done, but it looks like I'll have to try a little harder." With that said, in her hand, she created a bone-made ax, which appeared out of thin air, pointing it at them. 

'Another witch, ' muttered a little voice in Claire's head, as new anxiety built up in her stomach. 'Control your anxiety. You can master two closely related emotions at the same time, even better than trying to restrain two totally different ones.'

Douxie's eyes widened, settling on them just for a few seconds before staring back in front of him, his eyelids so black they seemed almost covered in charcoal, and blood still oozing, running down his cheekbones. He did not move an inch. 

"Do not move," she said in an authoritarian voice, moving the ax again to point at Archie with it. "Or the little pet will suffer the consequences of your action."

Chapter Text

TRACK 8

Stop there and peer inside of me

You'll find a man once lost at sea

But all the while I would think to myself

It's not the end, it's not the end at all

So sick of nothing going right

(Kill the Lights - Set it off )

********

Douxie had not known exactly what had happened, to be honest. Not at first, at least. It had all gone by so quickly that he couldn't know.

The interaction with Sir Galahad, before he resumed wandering the corridors, had been the last event he remembered more or less accurately. There had then been a clean break regarding anything that had surrounded him next. 

Total darkness followed. The kind that told him he was awake but unable to do even the smallest of things. A paralysis that had frozen the blood in his veins, feeling as if the chains were still in close contact with his skin… only to find himself seeing again, thankfully, but with his head spinning and throbbing. 

For a moment he had wondered if he had changed his mind. If he had chosen to accept the alcohol offered by the Knight. But he had not felt the familiar feeling of disgust that planted itself in his stomach after drinking until he was almost sick, all the while floating objects—once even himself. As he had done with a fever almost three times in a row, fortunately without trying to leave his apartment on any of the occasions—right and left. Because being drunk made everything far too blurry for him, even the difference between himself and his emotions. 

But still, despite the pain in his head and the urge to turn everything off somehow, he had been able to look at what was around him and realize that he was slumped in a corner, always unable to move except for very slight shifts of his head. Of Sir Galahad, well, not even a shadow. 

Then he saw figures. Various ones. One of whom had started to approach him, murmuring words he had not understood. Or perhaps it had spoken normally, but his mind had refused to cooperate and thus connect the sounds with the meaning they had. 

The pain followed almost immediately. Fingers—and long nails—had started to pull at his hair, forcing him to raise his head almost unnaturally that he felt his neck ache. 

Then he had visualized two grey eyes watching him with silent disgust. And a chill had run entirely down his spine, leaving him to swallow hard and try to formulate a word… or even the beginning of one. His mouth, however, was too dry, too much kneaded with paralysis. 

'Nemain.' Whispered his brain, however, as large amounts of alarm went raging through his chest like a storm. 

The image of the girl, her platinum blond hair tied in a braid, dressed in servants' clothes and looking generally down—if not in the presence of Morgana—flashed through his thoughts a couple of times, in several different sequences: When she had arrived in Camelot. When he had glimpsed her near Morgana, practicing magic. When she had left, as he had done the same, with the rising of Camelot. 

She had only been there for a couples of years, maybe two years and a half, not more than that, but long enough to show all her admiration and affection in comparison with the Queen of the Apocalypse. 

She had never particularly liked Douxie, he knew that—not a novelty in that place. Who did it there, especially at that time? Not too many—but he had never seen her despise him so much as the last time they had seen each other. Yet the look of the past had been nothing compared to the way she looked at him there, holding him by the hair. 

Douxie could even feel goosebumps in response to it. 

"Always the same child, huh. The same stupid little rat," the Witch said in a tone that was nothing short of venomous, tightening her grip even more, tearing him a slight whimper of pain as he felt her nails dig into his skin, even. "Now tell me… Which was the route to take to reach the Heart of Avalon?" 

Hisirdoux's eyes widened at the question, the initially slight and almost imperceptible confusion magnifying dramatically until it exploded in his head with the sight of the Chimeras—of which there were indeed many kinds, but the ones Nemain had behind her were some of the most aggressive type—just a little farther away, getting closer and closer. 

'Why would she want the Heart of Avalon? ’ He asked himself, feeling an absurd urge to get to his feet and shout Master Merlin's name out loud. ' For the amount of energy in his Core, perhaps? But why would she want it? Just for the sake of having it? Or for something related to Morgana?' 

Douxie, mentally, thanked heaven that among the corridors’ instructions engraved on the walls, none of them indicated how to reach the Heart of Avalon. Or, in the second case, she would have already gotten there without any way that could allow him to stall.

As far as he knew, the Witch had Taste as a magical sense of perception, which made it difficult to define where an Aura was, exactly. Where it came from. It was a perception that made it easy to absorb magic, yes, but figuring out perfectly how to get there if in the distance? Not really. And even if she had obtained the eye, it was too far away to be seen properly. 

"I don't..." He coughed, finally managing to speak, albeit in a slurred manner and feeling as if his tongue was stiffened and his saliva kind of dirty "... Shouldn't you be… in Ireland… being praised as a deity or something?" 

Nemain glared at him. And she tugged at his hair once more, tearing first a grimace of pain and then a faint sour laugh from him. 

"That’s all you can do?" He said, not being able to swallow, staring at her defiantly because irritating her would surely waste her time and… he could feel Archie's feelings trying to respond to his own as if to tell him that he had arrived by now. That he was there to help him as much as he could. Douxie's magic began to sing in his veins, even though he was trying to hold it back. He wasn't very good at hiding it, unlike his enemy. "For being called the Witch of Bones, War, and Hallucinations, it seems to me you're just trying to make me go bald."

Nemain let go of the strands of hair, looking back at him with her usual silent contempt. Then she kicked him in the stomach, hard enough to make him bend in two, feeling it burn. 

He clenched his fists and his teeth at the same time. He wished he could stand so he could feel less passive on one side, but his lower limbs were still stiff. If it weren't that he could see them, he might have thought his legs were gone: he couldn't feel them. 

"Answer to my question." She asserted authoritatively, one of her Chimeras now standing practically in front of her, its animal eyes staring around them in all directions, its nose in the air, followed by its other companions. 

Douxie's stomach barely turned in on itself at seeing how many there were. There must have been about seventy, if not more—Why couldn't he count them, truly? Why trying to do so made his head hurt? Why did they seem to duplicate?—But he forced himself to ignore it, tightening his lips and returning his gaze to Nemain. 

'Whatever. Archie and I have clashed with even greater numbers of opponents in the past. And the chaos caused by the fight will surely attract general attention. No problem. '

"What if I didn't?" He asked, tilting his head, almost smirking. "No, no. Well. What if I did, but started to take you around the castle for hours on end? What would you do?... You really have a poor memory anyway… I mean, I haven't been in the castle for nine hundred years either, but I kinda have something like a photographic memory about the things around the castle, it seems. Unless you were far too enamored with Morgana Le Fay to realize anything else. Can’t say anything about that. Definitely not my type."

Nemain did not strike him this time. Douxie would have expected it—being able to make people lose their patience might have been a talent at times—but she didn't. A strange light crossed her gaze, but nothing more than that. 

In return, she squatted down in front of him, grabbing his face in her hands. "I don't have such a good memory as you..." She admitted, looking at him as one would look at a cockroach, making him feel the offense run through his veins, so much so that he almost gritted his teeth. 

He was beginning to feel his legs. Just barely. They tingled with discomfort, but they were there. 

"... But something I remember very well...There is one." She continued, returning to scratch him with her nails, causing his face to barely bleed. 

Another pause, in which one of the Chimeras emitted a grunt-like cry, beginning to hop in place. It had a faint hint of drool, some of it frothy, dripping from its mouth, enough to make it look like it had rabies. 

And Archie appeared at once, leaping at it in the form of a large black-winged panther, growling gutturally. 

Other Chimeras immediately responded to the immediate attack as Douxie forced himself to headbutt the Witch in front of him, causing her to back away a few steps. In part, the gesture bothered him, as it returned to ignite the twinge in his head that he had had earlier, but which flooded him with personal satisfaction that made him grin with something feral. And maybe a little crazy, too.

‘More than a little.’

"I don't care what you remember," he blurted out, running two fingers along the wound that marked his face, letting the runes sense it and letting the melody take on a rise in volume as several knives, quite sharp, formed between his hands. He twirled them in the air, feigning confidence even though he was barely standing, his legs still annoying him by not properly working. "You will not reach the Heart of Avalon."

"You little..." Nemain moved her hand away from her face, provoking her nose to make a dry sound, probably to fix it, counting the ' crack' of impact there had been between his head and the Witch's face. "Always Merlin Ambrosius' fucking slave !" 

Almost in response to the term, he threw part of the knives toward the various Chimeras, causing them to plummet to the ground dead, before pulverizing as if they had never existed. The same end was met by those Archie assaulted. By dint of pawing, biting, and flaming, he was doing more than fine. 

The only problem was precisely in the quantity of the Chimeras, which Douxie honestly wondered how they had gotten in without attracting the slightest bit of attention. It was not normal as a thing. 

'How long was I unconscious? Where is Sir Galahad?...'

********

Between confrontations, they were relentlessly moving from room to room and smashing furniture. 

Douxie was more on defense than offense when it came to Nemain, but when he saw that there were far too many enemies attacking Archie or trying to hurt him, he switched to attack. 

They were making a huge mess. Yet no one seemed about to arrive. And the number of opponents was only increasing because they kept coming in from somewhere. 

'I wonder where from... ' he thought to himself. 

It was with a series of red whip-like blows that caused numerous thuds and the feeling that his bones were about to fracture—a fact that showed how powerful the Witch had become, especially since she barely moved to throw them, her sound suddenly screaming out loud—so much so that his shield almost gave way for a moment—that Douxie began to realize. 

Option one in the situation: The Witch had created a wall, a sound blocker for the outside so that no one could hear them as they fought. And the idea made sense. But until which point of the corridor it worked? That would have meant a lot of buzzing sound around him. There wasn't. Only Nemain made a tune. 

Option two : Nemain had cast a sleeping spell on everyone. And that was possible too, but Hisirdoux discarded it almost out of hand. Merlin would notice her before she could try it because to do so she would have to go from person to person to make them give in to sleep. And he would feel both her Aura and her presence itself. No matter how hard she would try to hide. She was not on the same level as him.

Or… Option Three : Douxie was stuck in a hallucination. He was stuck in his head, fighting her and then trying to avoid her to take possession of his brain to find out where the Heart of Avalon was. And that would have explained a lot of things. It would have explained where the Chimeras were appearing from. It would have explained why they were dissolving in the air. It would have explained why all that ruckus was not attracting anyone's attention. It would also explain why he wasn't able to start counting his opponents, something he was technically accustomed to. 

It was the most logical solution. Bloody hell, it was. The moment he had turned away from Sir Galahad… or maybe even before! Because for such a hallucination, there had to be at least physical contact. And what had Sir Galahad done at instant zero, when he was looking for the origin of the Aura that had disappeared? He had touched his shoulder. 

He could have cleared his throat, instead of making him catch a scare in such a manner. He could have tapped his feet to signal his presence. 

No. He didn’t do any of those. He touched him out of nowhere.

Nemain’s walk was light, like his own. It was a ‘running away as fast as possible without being noticed’ defense mechanism that only a few people possessed. The Knight did not have it. Unless he had been a bit too much distracted, Douxie should have heard the sound of his approaching footsteps. He should have, counting the whole hypersensitivity thing. The sound of his heavy boots hitting the stone had not been there. But Douxie had been too tired to realize it. 

He had been extremely tired at the time, anxious and all. He had avoided focusing on the details because he had thought he was being paranoid and because the sight of Galahad had been almost a brake. Because he knew him. And showing all the paranoia he was capable of on certain occasions to people he knew, except to Archie, was not something he appreciated. With strangers, the effect was similar but much less strong. 

"Where is the Heart of Avalon?" Repeated Nemain, her voice echoing in his head as yet another red whip tried to strike through his shield and he leaped backward, unable to stop himself from forming more knives in his hands to defend the imaginary Archie. 

He knew it wasn't him, but he still didn't dare to leave him defenseless, even though he was highly capable of responding to attacks. But the number of Chimeras increased again and again… and did not seem to stop. 

'Don't tell her. ’ Shouted a voice in his head, which he could not tell if it was his own or that of his Familiar. ' You must not tell her for any reason! Don't even think about it! She could read it! '

He dodged, more by luck perhaps, one of the beasts trying to attack him from behind, bending over himself. 

"Tell me where it is." Nemain created a sword composed of bones in her left hand. "Or you will not appreciate the consequences."

'You're in your head, Douxie ,' said Archie, finally distinguishable ' You can send her anywhere you want! You are still in control of yourself. If you focus enough or find a bit of a disturbing thought, you should be able to kick her out, even. ' 

Hisirdoux blinked a few times. Archie was right. 

He conjured a blade of his own, responding to the next hits, making his weapon sing, even if he wasn’t good at sword fighting.

Then, while he kept hitting back, he took in oxygen and forced himself to go back there once more, realizing that that memory was strong enough to give problems to the woman. Even though he knew he would soon regret it. 

Everything went black in the blink of an eye. The Chimeras disappeared like clouds of smoke. All that remained was Archie and Nemain herself, who seemed visibly confused for a moment. A confusion that disappeared, however, was replaced first by a furious expression, and then by a thunderous laugh, somewhat sour in tone. 

"Oh, so you realized? I remember you being dumber, I have to say that." She asserted with a sneer. "But an all-black environment serves no purpose..."

The lights came back on just as she said so. The castle room was replaced by a tiny room with six cribs. Five were totally empty. The other was soon occupied by the Witch laying on her stomach, tied to it with both chains and black laces. She had a hospital syringe in her neck, attached to a container that hung from the low ceiling. 

Nemain barely blanched, trying to remove herself from the bed. The anti-magic cuffs, however, did not allow her to move. 

Douxie, unruffled, went to lean with his back against the wall, looking at the small door through which both of them would soon enter or... only the worst of the two. 

The door burst open and Dr. K made his entrance, his suitcase under his arm. He laid it on the small table present in the corner, opening it wide and showing an array of more and less sharp blades, more syringes, liquids inside small bottles, and the usual gray substance. 

He approached the bed with a more or less cadence rhythm—always the same—quickening Douxie’s heart beats into an abnormal rhythm, as the urge to vomit worked its way down his throat and slight tremors already gripped him from head to toe.

Archie—the imaginary Archie, he forced himself to remember—threw himself into his arms and he held him as if he were the only anchor. Which, if he had been the real one, he would have been.

He couldn't bear to watch. He knew what would follow, knew what had to happen, and had to keep himself going to get that memory out of his head. Yet just the thought of other people experiencing on their skin what had happened to him... It made his insides twist, both of disgust for the Takers and at himself. For he was the one who would bring it to life for them, through his mind. 

"Good morning, Miss Nemain." Said the warm, all too gentle voice of the man who had been the symbol of his nightmares. He could hear him pause from the bed. And imagine him stroking his back. The air caught in his throat. "I hope you slept well last night."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Cried the Witch, fidgeting on her crib, continuing to pull at the laces and make the crib creak. 

"Come on, don’t be that rude." The man, most likely, was already tracing little infinity marks in various places on her skin, gradually creating what he called his ' alchemical circle ,' but which was more of a rite of passage, something to instill fear in those who lay there with their faces against the thin mattress, waiting. Douxie knew this. He had tried to study the movement patterns, but they were always different. And they weren’t connected to Alchemy. He had studied it.

His pulse had gone crazy. It was bouncing in his temples at an abnormal speed and his stomach was seriously doing somersaults. 

'The first blade will come soon. And with it the scream. Then the substance. And then the syringe and the second blade. And... ' 

He clenched his fists; Archie was so glued to his chest that it seemed that they would fuse, becoming, even more, a part of him than he already was. 

"No!" The Witch clamored, betraying sudden terror and sounding almost like a trapped animal. Hisirdoux started biting his lower lip until it bled, the mental taste of metal starting to run down his palate. 

"We must get the Devil out of your body, my dear," asserted Dr. K, probably with that peaceful, never malicious smile of his, as if he thought he was doing her good. Douxie hated him . He hated him so damn much. "Only then you can call yourself cured."

Another scream. And another. And another, heartbreaking, as Hisirdoux barely breathed, his heartbeat seeming to almost burst the muscle in the center of his chest. 

Then one last cry. But this was not one of pain. It was a cry of furious rage, which released the Witch's magic all at once. Although there were the anti-magic shackles that theoretically should have stopped her, they were only a hallucination. Something created by the brain. And the image had started flickering, like a pixelated recording. Archie had even disappeared, leaving him so empty-handed that he clawed his fingers at the fur of the cloak, hoping to get some reassurance from that at least. 

Everything disappeared. Again. Leaving the black background around him and Nemain again. 

The witch pounced on him like a predator on its prey, and the shield offered no resistance. Nothing in him resisted, to be honest. He tried, he really did, but he felt too hurt to be able to fight properly.

"Tell me where the fuck the Heart of Avalon is!" She screamed again, bringing her hands to his head and squeezing it as if she wanted to crush it until it exploded. The sentence came out in several tones of voice, one of which was so high-pitched it almost split his eardrums. 

She then disappeared suddenly. But the screams continued, getting louder and louder, driving him to slump over himself, trying to cover his ears with his hands, but finding himself tied up. 

It hurt. It really, really hurts. It was as if his brain was wearing out as it went, as if it were about to tear in half. 

He started screaming too. Or tried. His voice came out as an agonized choked sound. 

'Douxie! Douxie wake up!' 

There was so much pain. Hell, he wanted all of it to stop. He couldn't stand it. 

'Douxie!'

'It hurts.' He groaned, shaking. And whining a little, like a child, starting to tremble more and more, his breathing coming out shallow. Tears started to slowly come out.

'Douxie, listen to me!' 

His head felt like it was going to explode. Still, hearing his Familiar's voice made him raise it a little. 'Ar… chie. Where… Wh… Where are you?' 

'Open your eyes! I'm here! Open your eyes, Douxie! Now!'

He tried without thinking twice.

********

Douxie sat up sharply, breathing so fast that he could not even feel the oxygen going in and out of his lungs. His vision was there and at the same time not there. It flickered like a drained light bulb, leaving him gasping for air. 

Something almost hit him in the center of the skull, but the sudden shift saved him by a whisker. 

A real kick, in return, went and hit him right in the chest, causing him to agonize immediately, still trying to attach all the pieces, which did not seem to match at all. 

In the coming and going of vision, he found himself first seeing Nemain, then noticing Archie—the real Archie—trapped, who was screaming for him, even if he was muted, and Sir Galahad, who was being dragged by Chimeras. They were less however, than in the hallucination. 

From what he could see through the faint slanting light slipping through the windows, mostly covered by the curtains, it was early morning. 

And they were only a step away from Nemain's much sought-after destination. A single fact that paralyzed him on the spot, especially in feeling how it seemed slightly weaker than usual, while the Aura of it in part was pulsing within the Witch. Probably because she wanted to get a taste before actually hurting him again. Or, maybe, because she expected him to wake up or something.

'No. No, no, no!' He gritted his teeth, trembling. 'Fuzz me. I should have driven her out with another thought. With one that would have hurt me less. Not with that!' 

...But with which one, then? Certain memories he pretended to have digested, but they were still there. Just the thought led him to immediately look for another thought of self-defense. 

The panic was still in him, roaring inside his blood. He quickly objectified it, giving himself energy. 

Immediately he thrust forward, only to be thrown backward by the Witch, crashing against the wall. The impact was felt entirely from his back and partly from the back of his head, accompanied by dizziness.

"You'll pay for it." Said the Witch, without needing to shout or anything else, simply as if making a promise, approaching him with a subtle gaze, but not as much as before, as if afraid of receiving a second headbutt. "I know perfectly well where to strike."

Her gaze first remained on him. Then it rested on Archie, as her fingers glowed with something unpleasant, the melody of which screamed 'danger' in its every smallest note. 

It was enough to make him see red. 

The wave of magic that surged out of him—not truly wanting it to be controlled—caused an explosion. Strong enough to blow a hole in the wall and throw the woman off balance. Some of the Chimeras were thrown out and the remaining ones saw it as a sign for them to attack, starting to throw pieces of the wall, entire vases or directly throwing themselves at him. 

He got up in a hurry and started to dodge and duck, running from one side of the room to the other, going first for the runes and then summoning the shield, placing himself in front of the Heart of Avalon in the process of Nemain's barely recoiling. 

He had not even scratched her, and the contempt only seemed to increase. Douxie, in the process of defending himself and the Castle Matrix, was hurriedly trying to reach a method of getting Archie out of the red box, which made him far too exposed for his liking. 

She could have injured him at any moment, but if he permanently stunned her first, she wouldn't have had time, right? Or if he kept her busy until Merlin got there... 

He could feel the blood rushing down his temple and behind his scruff. His magic clung to it, immediately trying to connect. The magic flow materialized in a shower of notes that reminded him of Vivaldi's Winter in the Allegro—not much—in F minor . 

His magic came out in several rays of blue light that immediately took after the witch, leading her to defend herself and thus causing each blow to reach other places, smashing whatever they encountered. 

She looked suddenly scared, even if only for a second.

"Remove yourself from the Heart of Avalon." She said, after several moments, in an almost accommodating tone of voice "And perhaps , when you run out of energy to fight me, I won't hurt him."

"You're talking nonsense," he blurted out instead, seeing another boulder slam against his defensive barrier and pretending not to feel the fatigue, which began to weigh on him. He had not slept for two, almost three, days. He had used more magic than he should have. He could feel his own body aching like a set of inflamed muscles. "I know you would hurt him just for the sake of it."

Nemain rolled her eyes. "You are waiting for your Master. You are hoping he will save you both." She asserted, then barely sneered. "Sorry, if he's using magic to intercept you, he'll only end up spinning in circles between hallucinations. Cute little tidbit, huh." She paused, returning to dodge a blow Douxie threw at her and taking yet another look at Archie. "He'll never get there in time."

Hisirdoux sensed as if he had received a slap right across the face, but tried not to show it. 

His gaze repeatedly shifted from Archie to the Witch, continuing to launch attacks in the meantime and continuing to defend himself at the same time, without moving an inch. 

"Why are you so blind, Hisirdoux?" Asked Nemain suddenly, almost out of nowhere. 

'So she does know my name after all…'

"Why do you still follow the same Wizard who allowed his King to slaughter his kind? Why don't you join us instead? You made me feel your pain after all. It wouldn't be like this if you turned your back on humanity instead of helping them." 

Douxie did not respond, not verbally. In return, more by instinct than anything else, he widened his barrier until it surrounded the Heart of Avalon. He could hear its melody singing in his ears, and just the sound of it infused him with confidence, although he felt as if at any moment he would fall and be unconscious. He kept staring at her. 

'If I can't take away her energy, I can try to distract her.' He wrinkled his nose 'But how? How do I distract her? How do I catch her off guard? I don't have much at my disposal and I'm running low on...'

Before he could complete the thought a Chimera threw a rock at him and another threw itself at the barrier, then the group of Guardians came over. They all looked quite agitated and out of breath. 

He had a moment of surprise but forced himself to suppress it. The noises were uncensored and he had caused an explosion, willy-nilly. It was obvious that they would come to check. 

"Oh. New friends are joining the party." Said Nemain. "Too bad, I was hoping to be almost done, but it looks like I'll have to put in a little more effort." She made an ax composed of bones appear. 

'Huh. Believe it.' He thought, returning his gaze to the Witch without thinking too much. ‘Wait. To be almost done, how? Because I am still standing and she was trying to… Did she think that I was listening to her?…’ 

"Do not move. Or the little pet will suffer the consequences of your actions." She asserted, pointing at Archie with her weapon.

"Sure, right," he said simply, breaking the tension without thinking twice. He was feigning bravado, even though a part of him sensed his magic gushing with anxiety to betray him and thus trying to pass off his Aura's movements as anything but. Didn't matter if she only had the mouth as her Magic perception sense. "You know you can't hurt him right now. You've already staked him out as a way to get me off your back, or am I wrong? To get yourself the Heart of Avalon."

He lowered his defense slightly, feeling the eyes of the others rest on him. He ignored them as much as he could, but...

"Douxie, what are you…" Claire started, her voice audibly confused. 

"You touch him, and rest assured it will not end well for you." Douxie asserted coldly, interrupting her. 

The threat was real. And Nemain must have sensed it herself because she took a small, almost imperceptible step backward. And looked a bit scared, again, for whatever reason.

'Good.' He thought. Then Douxie wondered what color his eyes were at that moment, a question that came and disappeared at supersonic speed. 

"So." He continued, not taking his gaze off her, but partly passing her by, making quick calculations. "Why don't you rather continue with what you were saying before?" 

She stayed silent for a moment. "You're still asking for time." She then said suddenly, dry and unfiltered, squaring him. 

"Nah." He shrugged a tiny bit, trying to look rather bored by her answer. "You said yourself that if Merlin decided to look for me through magic, he automatically got himself into the hallucination loop, right? Then what am I waiting for? We've been fighting for a while, mentally and physically, but I still have plenty of magic at my disposal if you haven't noticed." He lied, tilting his head, letting his Aura show again, and creating a small wave of blue light. 

'Don't overdo it,' Archie whispered. 

'Hush, a little more, and I'll turn her around to save your hairy butt, don't bloody distract me.'

"You might as well finish your offering. If I get anything out of it besides saving my Familiar, the points might go up."

"Huh. You want to distract me so your little friends can attack, then?" She arched her eyebrow. He let out a thunderous laughter. But for a different reason. 

‘You are very rude.’ Archie had responded with an annoyed tone—the kind that he actually could not resist—to the point that he was too hilarious to stop him from cackling.

‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Douxie tried to sober up. And snorted again. Then went back to look at the very confused woman. Like everyone else, probably. But acting like he was a bit mad wasn't that bad, honestly. 

"Who do you take me for?" He asked, almost rhetorically. "I know you remember me as an idiot from what you said, but you don't know me. You've never met me, truly, in a way. And it's been nine hundred years anyway, I'm not who I used to be." He paused, cursing mentally and creating at full speed a barrier bigger than the previous one, which surrounded both of them. 

He could feel his magic barely pulling as something cracked. He did not know what and exactly where. Pain shot through him. 

"No one will attack you." He said, trying to show as much nonchalance as possible as he struggled to gather new energy. "It's three Trolls, a novice Witch, and two children. Even without the barrier, I doubt they'd give you a scratch, anyway."

"Bro, what in the actual…" Steve started, between upset and something else. Hurt, maybe. 

'Don't think about it. Don't feel guilty about it. Not right now. Or you're gonna screw it up royally.' 

"It doesn't matter. Never did. Don't try to do anything or you're going to pay, too." He said, coldly, throwing a look at them, before returning to the woman. "Just like the Chimeras, if they do something. It's a simple truth.” A theatrical pause. “You can keep going."

He hoped they would understand somehow. 

'Maybe they won't.' something inside him whispered. And he nearly trembled on the spot at the thought. ' What the Fuzz am I doing?' 

'You should try to let them know,' quipped Archie instead. 'They have to.'

'...You're right.'

Douxie barely heard Jim say something in an angry whisper. And then nothing. Their eyes were still on him. He looked back at them just for another second. Just one.

'Please.'

Nemain thought about it for a few moments but still looked skeptical. "You, Hisirdoux Casperan, the Puppet of the Magic Slayer, really want to turn your back on your Master? That seems hard to imagine. You’re lying." 

"Maybe you should look at things differently." He moved slightly, raising one hand, just enough to not be noticed by her. "Let's say a millennium gives you time to evaluate things in a new light." He then placed his palm against the barrier as if nothing had happened, hiding it behind his back. The magic moved a little. "Resentment, loneliness, frustration, pain, hatred ... To be seen as a slave by anyone for the sole and simple reason of being alive and trying to survive, one way or another… Sometimes you need to do things. Whether you like it or not. But not everyone understands that."

Something in Nemain's gaze shimmered this time. She seemed to relax just barely. "I understand what you are saying right now," she said. "...I felt the hate in you."

"It was all true," he asserted sincerely. "And I'm sorry I threw it back at you, but you don't get in my head and run out of it like it's a walk in the park. If it were that easy, I guess a lot of people would get into it pretty randomly. And the idea is kind of… Displeasing." 

'Almost there. One more effort. '

"I guess that's it." The Witch nodded. Then stiffened suddenly, as if she noticed she had relaxed a little too much. 

"So here's the thing. You lay out your offer to me and I calculate it. If I accept, you let Archie go intact ," he swallowed but thinned his gaze. "If not, we'll keep fighting. No issue. But if you hurt him, you know what's coming for you. Plain and simple."

"I don’t think your friends would be happy to hear this from you," she sneered. 

"So? It’s not like they were happy to have me here in the first place. You know, allies don’t have to like each other. But Merlin would still believe me more than them if I said I never planned to betray him in the first place. He always sees himself as more important than anyone else. He wouldn't even think about it."

He mentally cringed.

‘Did I exaggerate?’ he asked.

‘I think you were very convincing.’ Archibald responded apathetically.

‘Is it sarcasm?’ Douxie questioned, very near to having an anxiety attack and rolling his eyes at the same time but obligating himself not to. Both of them. He had to keep himself in line. He had to.

"If you are so ready to betray him, then why didn't you let me know immediately where the Heart of Avalon was when I was inside your mind?" 

He rolled his eyes for real this time. "You entered my privacy." he said, angrily "You were hitting me inside my head while I wasn't able to react. What did you expect me to do? To be happy about it? To say 'hit me baby one more time' ?" A pause. "Next time, try convincing first and hitting later. Works a lot more, you know."

"...Point taken," she said. Then she looked at him, suddenly intrigued. 

Nemain was silent for several seconds. The pause of silence was enough for Douxie to increase the magic flow, trying to keep it implied and nothing more as if he was only continuing to feed the barrier instead of mentally calculating everything as quickly as possible. The Chimeras were mostly staring at him and at the Guardians. But they weren't behind him, since there was the Heart of Avalon there. And they weren't looking at the Witch. Just like they weren’t watching at the Witch's back like she wasn't. They probably just waited for a proper vocal order.

'It has to be a little lower.'

"I want to carry out Morgana's wish, she wanted to help remove humanity from the Material Planet. My lair and I, with my sisters and brothers, aim for that. And we're recruiting. That's why I’m in Russia. The others are moving along the globe." She said.

"And what do you need the Heart of Avalon’s Core for?" He asked, genuinely curious. "It's not just for accumulating power. Or am I wrong? You already have enough, from what I've noticed."

"A magical transfusion," she responded, without even waiting and hardly even blinking. 

'Oh... Oh.' Time seemed to stop for a moment, as the shock almost short-circuited him. ‘Fuzzbuckets. That’s… That’s bad.’

"You want to try to forcefully turn some humans into magical beings? It's a risky operation," he said, trying to hide his disgust and mild anger with a soft smile. The mixed emotions were beginning to pile up in his chest. "I had heard that only one in two hundred survives such treatment."

"That's right. But at the same time, you add members to the magical community and drastically reduce the human one. There's no real damage. The dirt will be removed and the Earth will return clean just like it had been in the past."

'No. Oh, alright. You're just turning into what humans have always seen us for. Monsters. Bloody Balrogs. That’s just marvelous. Son of a…’

'Douxie, breathe.'

'I bloody am!' 

'No. No, you aren't. Calm down.'

"What if I joined? What would I get in return?" He asked, even though his voice came out a little strained. He hoped that she wouldn't notice.

"Other than making a name for yourself and becoming the symbol of a new world? Having everything you want without having to bow down to those who are always higher than you? Without having to run away every time someone asks questions?" 

"Hmm. That does sound appetizing." He pretended to think about it. "Well, thanks for the offer, I did not expect it," he added, straightening his shoulders. 

She shrugged. "You have shown to be pretty powerful, Casperan." She said. "It would be a shame to fight each other until death. We shouldn't be enemies. I think we could work together much better. "

"Oh, yeah," he said. Then he inspired and expired slowly, almost theatrically, moving his fingers behind him. "My answer is obvious, I think."

He threw a shoe at her head. 

He hit her strong enough for his taste, even though he kinda wanted to do that again. Maybe even harder. But still, he felt so much lighter already. He almost chuckled in satisfaction. Failing to hit her with Magic before had been so bloody frustrating. 

It had been so easy to take the shoe off without bending over, just letting the magic take it off and raising it inside his palm. He had used the endless corridor he had formed behind them, just lower than their backs. 

'That' s for entering inside my head without asking. And for the rest of it.'

"What…" Nemain stared at him as if he grew horns and wings, looking rather puzzled while touching the back of her head. "What the fuck?" 

The blow had caught her more than a little off guard, so much so that she let go of the magic that trapped Archie—which had been there mostly to avoid that he would break out of it easily, not to power it—the box opening wide under his strength. And caused Nemain to curse, as new anger and disgust ran through her gaze—which was back on him—completely replacing the vague interest that had crossed it moments before. 

"Claire!" Screamed Douxie, turning his head in the girl's direction. 

"On it!" She shouted in response as if she had been waiting with a lot of expectation—which was honestly fair—and dropping a huge layer of shadow that immediately removed the light coming in through the hole in the wall and by the windows—whose curtains had been torn somehow—also allowing the three Trolls to make their entrance into the room along with their companions. And beginning to fight with the Chimeras. 

Douxie lowered the barrier entirely, and Archie immediately took advantage of this to shoot flames at the Witch, while Douxie took off his second shoe for more comfort and began to run, throwing a few small magic knives in Nemain's direction, forcing her to keep an eye on him as well, instead of focusing only on the dragon, risking her catching him again. 

She responded to his attacks by making a large scythe appear, which she started to swing around her with the skill of one who must have used it a myriad of times, deflecting the aim of the weapons and covering herself from the flames with the blade itself. 

"I'll kill you!" She shouted, furious. And her rage showed that she had believed him. He was almost proud of himself. If she hadn’t tried to hurt Archie or even talked about the ‘ magical transfusion ’, maybe he would have felt guilty somehow. "You are nothing but a traitor to your race, a street rat!" 

'And you are nothing but a Nazi, so I think there can be worse things than a rodent,' he retorted mentally, still offended. He summoned a lasso in a hurry while she was distracted responding to Archie's flames.

First, he bound her legs and then the rest of her body, enough to make her look like a salami and lead her to lose her balance as soon as she tried to struggle, causing her to crash to the floor with a thud. 

Hisirdoux did not have time to catch his breath, however, because he immediately heard a "Douxie!" shouted by Toby, who was protecting Sir Galahad. His voice caused him to turn around and get attacked by a Chimera in the meantime, reminding him how helpless he was at that moment without a barrier. 

His movement was slightly too slow. The claws of the creature thrust into his shoulder, ripping through all the layers of cloth encountered and sticking into his flesh. 

A choked scream of pain escaped his lips as he tried and failed to respond to the attack with a shockwave, allowing the creature to worsen the cut, descending almost deeper on his chest, barely touching the tape, and even inflicting another on the opposite shoulder. It almost even bit his face off. 

Archie, having set fire to a beast that had also attacked him, growled a sound so guttural that it even reached him in the bones, ready to defend him. But he didn't need to, because Aaarrrgh got in the way, pulling the enemy off him and slamming it to the ground with a lot of strength. Archie, however, took the satisfaction of burning the Chimera until it was charcoal black when the Troll let go of it.

The removal had wrung from him a stifled noise, which he had silenced by gritting his teeth while covering the wound with his hand, staggering a few unsteady steps forward and immediately searching Nemain with his gaze, who should still have been on the ground, bound, in theory... Because even with the pain running through his veins, he had not unraveled the lasso. Not even a little.

But of the blue rope, only the remains and little else was there, destroyed. And albeit with difficulty, his head running around like a spinning top, he searched for her in the fighting mass, forcing himself to raise the barrier again with a gigantic effort, such that he perceived another break, gnashing his teeth. 

At first, it seemed to him to look around uselessly. The magic was wearing away his stamina and his vision at times blurred. But then he looked up, more by instinct than anything else. And he saw her swooping down from the back of one of the Chimeras, the scythe ready to strike him in the head. 

The barrier held up enough to take the weapon out of her hands, but not enough to stop her, so much so that the shield snapped, causing her to fall on top of him suddenly. The impact was enough to take out all the oxygen in his lungs. 

She, grinning victoriously, made another bone blade appear, pointing directly at the center of his chest.

Chapter Text

TRACK 9

Sometimes the only payoff for having any faith

Is when it’s tested again and again everyday

I’m still comparing your past to my future

It might be your wound, but they’re my sutures

I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass 

I’ll try to picture me without you but I can’t

(Immortals - Fall Out Boys) 

********

Jim defended Claire, intent on maintaining the veil of shadow over them—so much so that she was uncovered—by tooth and nail. The winged monkeys were several, but even so, a few blows in the right places were enough to eliminate them.

Some were more persistent than others, some just more nimble or more intelligent, but that did not change that Jim would deliver blows with his blade to anyone that attacked, then left the corpses of the beasts lying on the ground, their eerie little eyes seeming to stare at him with animal hunger before fading inexorably. He would make his sword dance from foe to foe without a second thought, the blood splattering on the ground and thus staining it.

Having to wait before, not being able to do anything except listen and wait—because of the light, goddammit. He knew that that was gonna happen—trying to convince Steve, Toby, and Claire to not do anything stupid, had raised the desire to end everything as soon as possible.

From time to time, Jim would lean in to help Steve as well, who was just ahead and responding to the ferocity of the creatures between high-pitched squeals, ungainly kicks that threatened to bring him down more than anything else, hastily dodging and—even in a minor way—the bases they had tried to give him the previous day. They were a little dirty and inaccurate, but compared to the attempts made not even twenty-four hours earlier, they were going quite a bit better. 

Jim helped him when he noticed him having trouble, even though he saw the slight injury to the blond's ego every single time. The fact he ended up ignoring it very soon. In any case, after doing what he had to do to keep Steve from getting into serious trouble, he would go back to Claire and reintroduce himself as her personal bodyguard. 

And so he would return to attack, to respond to each beast with the same aggression that was reserved for him. His movements were extremely fast, so much so that he seemed to dart from one opponent to another in a blink of an eye. 

From the position he was in, he could mostly see his surroundings very well. He could see his friends fighting, diminishing opponents as they went. 

He could see Toby crushing the monkeys with the Warhammer, defending the unconscious Knight, causing big thuds and cracks in the ground… Something Jim thought would cause Merlin to complain later. Sure he would. 

Not too far from Toby and the Heart of Avalon were Aaarrrgh and Blinky. They had each other's backs. The first Troll was doing more work than the second—although Blinky was trying his hardest—because it took very little for him to grab them and crash them to the floor as if they were basketballs, cracking their spines in the process if the noise caused each time said anything about it. 

He then saw Archibald flying right and left across the room and setting the creatures on fire with large, powerful flames, gaining the advantage in air combat without even having to exert much effort. The only times he seemed to struggle was when he looked around, probably searching for his Wizard, then forcing himself to spin around again to avoid being hit by any attacks. He was somewhat reminiscent of a spinning top in doing so as if he were following a laser light that had appeared on the wall and was trying to catch it. 

Douxie on the other hand...

'Huh? Where is he?' 

The question almost distracted him, whether he wanted it or not. So much so that for a moment he risked not noticing another monkey about to throw itself at him. He still managed to hit it first. 

Jim, before—but for a short amount of time—had felt extremely furious with the Wizard. The rage and the remaining little hint of dislike provoked by jealousy had flared strongly, making it hard for him to concentrate. But he still did, listening to the whole chat between him and the Witch.

He then somehow noticed that there had been something strange with how Douxie had been acting. He didn't know why. Probably because he had surprised him so many times the day before—between the actual feeling of liking that had been born instead—that it felt wrong and fake that he was acting like a dick, just how he had imagined him to be before. The whole controversy had been like a harsh slap to reality. To the point that he had sensed him lying even before the revelation. He didn't know how. He just did, even though he had not been sure. At all. 

This is before the 'Cover the light source when I call you. Please trust me.'  phrase, which had appeared on the floor and disappeared a few seconds after. And damn, hadn't he had problems stopping his friends from interfering before that happened. They all wanted to butt in inside the situation, without truly thinking of the risks—without thinking that they were three and no one else against a Witch, weird flying monkeys, and the dragon familiar as a hostage. 

In any case, regarding the present, searching for the— very confusing— Hisirdoux Casperan between the chaos took Jim a while. Not for lack of effort, quite the contrary. 

Only a little earlier he had been wounded, but helped by Aaarrrgh, which technically should have made him easy to find, but... Surely Jim would not have expected to find him on the ground, with the Witch standing over him, ready to strike.

********

Douxie, before Archie could shout his name again or get worried about him, raised his hips and pushed his legs as much as possible with all the strength he could muster. All to make the witch lose balance, falling onward. She, taken by surprise, did and he immediately slipped off from behind her, not having her weight on him anymore. 

She staggered while trying to get up. She involuntarily let go of the weapon before, too, which got stuck in the ground at a short distance from her right arm. 

She, however, was still ready to try again, like a vicious snake. Nemain, once she found her balance on her feet again, in no time launched herself at him another time, her sound playing aggressively, almost out of control, without a proper rhythm. He barely managed to dodge her, falling and rolling on the ground before returning to rise to his feet. 

The Witch threw herself into another attack shortly after. And another. And another again, failing to hit him, but always coming very close. Too much for his taste.

After a while, she seemed to have run out of Magical Energy as well, her moves were more physical than anything else and her sound became low, almost imperceptible. She even tried to punch him in the face, she missed it but her punch was so strong that it whistled through the air.

Douxie was breathing heavily, his oxygen was going in and out too fast, and the beating of his heart almost blew out his eardrums. He felt weak and slow, slower the more time passed. It was frustrating, but the fatigue was getting to him.

He was tired. He was so, so tired. The lack of sleep, the almost continuous use of his magic, the hallucination, the stress that kept piling up… It was a while since he hadn't felt so tired. 

When she tried to attack again, he received a blow in the middle of his stomach, which made him wince and spit out some saliva. 

Nemain gave him no respite, for she immediately attacked again, hitting his jaw. Then, she was ready to break a few bones in his spine if the position of her leg said anything about it. Even though he didn't want to end up with such an injury, he knew he probably would not have been able to avoid it. Every single movement of his was torture at this point. 

But then, fortunately, before she could do it, a huge green root went to envelop her, so large that it looked like a Sea Monster… or any octopus—kraken for the size—green tentacle, preventing her from any slightest movement. And that went and embedded itself in the wall, having a life of its own even without being powered by Magical Energy. The melody was clear and lively, alive. 

Violin notes cheerfully sang a hymn that would make anyone dance. He felt hugged by them. He smiled, grateful, and then noticed a square piece of orange paper that had fallen on the floor from Nemain's cape and made him grab it to look at it before placing it inside the pocket of his jeans. 

Then a blinding green light eliminated the last remaining Chimeras, playing coldly, almost opera-like. It left him looking around breathlessly, and he saw Master Merlin. A big sigh of relief escaped his lips.

'Oh, thank you…'   he thought. That was before he noticed his death stare, which caused him to wince as it landed on him. He grimaced, already feeling the psychological pain. It was going to be so much worse than he was ready for. 'Fuzz me. I'm done.'

Douxie sighed again, this time not in relief. And he groaned, slamming his hand in his face. "Could you first help Sir Galahad and then kill me, please?" He asked, running a hand through his hair nervously. 

Merlin said nothing at first. “You are bleeding,” he then commented, before bringing his attention to the unconscious Knight. 

'Okay. Need some bandages, then.'

‘You don’t say? ’ Archie jumped up, sounding irritated.

‘Oh, hush.'

********

Claire let go of the shadow after the old Wizard closed the pierced wall with a quick wave of his hand. 

She felt weakened as if she had run ten laps in a row. Her arms barely trembled and her head seemed far too light compared to the norm, but that weariness reassured her: she could see Jim, Aaarrrgh, and Blinky unharmed. And as a fact, that was enough for her for the moment. But still, she lost her balance. And even almost her senses.

She was, however, supported by her boyfriend, who grabbed her just in time.

 "Are you okay?" He asked with a worried expression.

"Yes, I'm… I'm just a bit tired," she replied, smiling at him.

"Are you sure, Claire?" asked Toby, approaching at the same time as Steve. "You look a little pale."

"You've held up to a resistance control spell," asserted Archibald, intruding on the conversation, flying around her a couple of times, but casting glances at the door. "You should sit for a while to get your energy back. And catch your breath as much as you can."

"Okay, thanks Archie," she replied, taking the advice without a second thought and letting Jim help her sit up, her back leaning against the wall.

"Claire did good," Aaarrrgh said. She blushed and smiled at the compliment, thanking the Troll.

Then she returned, albeit slowly, to look at the unknown Witch, paralyzed and intent on staring at Nari with her eyes wide, as if she were seeing a ghost, ruining some of her tranquility. The woman hardly breathed and seemed to search in vain for words to say, finding herself more like gasping on the spot. That was until she had recovered sufficiently from the shock. 

"Nari of the Eternal Forest," she murmured with something of awe and admiration at the same time, perhaps instinctively bowing her head. "Am I seeing right?... Is it really you?"

Nari returned her attention, looking back at her. She nodded in response with a graceful movement. 

"What are you doing among those—" the Witch seemed to bite her lower lip, stopping herself from saying something really stupid. "What are you doing here?" She asked then. "Aren't you supposed to be among your siblings?" 

The half-goddess did not answer the question, appearing sad for a second. Instead, she laid her gaze on all of them. "I can yield some of my energy to the Heart of Avalon if needed," she said, mainly in Merlin's direction.

"No, Nari. The damage fortunately was not so extensive as to provide real problems for its Core. A few hours and it'll have recovered," he said, looking first at her, then toward the door, in the direction of Galahad—who was still showing no sign of waking up, but who was not really in any danger, or at least that was what Merlin said. And that he had been moved quickly to a crib in a nearby room that could barely be glimpsed from there—and then his Apprentice, who entered the room just then, his wounds covered by bandages and wearing new clean clothes, looking down with anxiety written on his face. Archibald flew immediately beside him, coming at him with a nervous expression, too. 

Claire saw the Sorcerer's expression bend several times—a fact that would have made her break out in a cold sweat if it had happened to her, since he never actually showed so much emotion before, though she would have then responded to it with pure irritation—before he started in the direction of the raven-haired boy with large strides after fully meeting his gaze, while Douxie took an instinctive step backward, but did not move more than that. 

Although he had earlier brought his left hand to one of the bandages, checking it quickly to make sure it was holding well, he ended up lowering his arm. 

Merlin grabbed it. "Come with me immediately," he ordered, giving him no time to respond and starting to pull him forward in such a way that—already barefoot, while the red all-stars were practically in the center of the room, which Archie recovered, taking in his Wizard's appearance, leaving them all staring, quite shocked—he even risked slipping. And then they were outside the room. 

"For more than one reason, I wouldn't want to be in his place," mumbled Toby after a while, accompanied by a nervous chuckle.  

"...Neither do I, but I want to know what he says to him," intervened Steve instead, immediately quickening his pace and trying to leave the room in turn. 

"Wait… What? Do you want to eavesdrop? You'd get noticed instantly!" asserted Claire in a voice that was a mixture between a whisper and something shrill, wanting to follow him right away, but not being able to. Toby, on the other hand, succeeded without a problem. But they both stopped just beyond the door, tearing her slight confusion.

"They're already gone," said Steve, answering Claire's silent question. 

"...Magic?" asked Toby. His tone of voice made her smile. 

"I know where they are anyway," asserted Nari, leading the two to turn in her direction and the others to look at her. "I can also let you hear what they say. But perhaps it would be seen as improper by you?..."

"Uhh… a little," admitted Claire. 

'Curiosity kills the cat.' she thought, though her curiosity did not diminish at the idea either. Merlin was probably giving Douxie an earful for whatever reason he could think of, but at the same time who knew, exactly, that he didn't talk about something else? No one. 

"Well, yes, but Mr. Magic Man will never tell us what he said to the bro and I don't think the bro will tell us what they talked about. And I didn't understand a damn thing about what happened exactly, except for the fight with those weird monkeys and the fact that the bro acted like a Secret Agent for a sec."

'Yeah.' Thought Claire, biting the inside of her cheek and looking down at the floor, feeling the coldness of the wall across her skin. 'So much so that if it hadn’t been for the little blue writing that suddenly appeared on the floor... '

She did not finish the thought. The phrase 'I felt the hate in you.' rang in her head, interrupting the rest. 

"It would still be a breach of their privacy. And from what I understood..." Blinky cast a glance at the Witch, who seemed to have lost years and years of life, appearing almost in a coma without all her vitality, her almost dull grey eyes staring into the void. She did not even seem to be listening to how lost she appeared. "It’s not something Mister Casperan would appreciate."

Steve made an offended sound. "Oh, come on! He wouldn't know that we know anyway! And if the Creepy Woman tries to tell him, let's change the subject before she does! Easy, right?" 

"I'd like to know what they're saying to each other, too, to be honest," Jim suddenly said, surprising Claire a little. "But maybe we really should let it go... It's their business, after all."

"Really, Lake? For a minute there I thought you and I understood each other!" The blond boy started to wave his hands in the air left and right, a pout plastered on his face. "Doesn't it seem unfair that they leave us waiting in the car while they keep all the good stuff? We're here too, and yet they don't include us!" 

"Yeah, it's called a private conversation, Steve," Claire said, wanting to elbow him. 

"Okay, but it's still not fair!" 

"You're partly right, but only if it's something important because we should be informed too," Jim said. “I don't think it is. Merlin isn’t talking to him about technical things we should be informed about…" he cringed. "He seemed too angry for it." 

"He was, but about what? It doesn't seem like the dude did anything that wrong to me!" Steve gesticulated again.

"Well, just in case, I already have the seed ready here if you change your mind," Nari said, interrupting the conversation. "I put several all over the Castle just before we intervened in the fight. Merlin had asked me to do so, and I thought I would listen to them in general just in case, some before, some after." She had a slight smile. "Yes, it's not fair, however, I don't think there's anything wrong with it. It helps to avoid touching raw nerves when they come back, the way I see it. But if you want, I can ignore that one and move on right away."

"No!" The blond boy jumped up. "Steve wants to know and Steve listens." He immediately flanked the half deity, from whose hands were indeed sprouting what appeared to be like a small glowing seed.

"Nosy," said Aaarrrgh with an unimpressed look. 

"That's not true! And she said it herself that it's better that way, didn't she?"

Despite their attempts to show privacy, some more tentatively, others almost immediately—maybe a bit hypocritically after how much they had insisted that it was not correct, but they were all far too nosy , it seemed—they took the opportunity practically at the drop of a hat, surrounding Nari. The half-goddess, to make things easier for Claire, decided to move over and have them all sit beside her. Which Claire thanked her for.

Nari stood in the center. The others stood around her, forming a small circle. The bright seed seemed to barely pulsate.

First, there was almost complete silence. Faint footsteps interrupted it. Then. 

"Mas…" 

"Tell me, have you gone mad?!" Exploded Merlin suddenly, almost making them jump for how loud his voice was, leading both Steve and Toby to look around as if to make sure the Sorcerer had not returned to the room. 

"I can explain," said Douxie quickly, appearing more than a little agitated and uncertain only by his tone. His voice was decidedly lower than his Master’s, so much so that this one was hard to hear, instead, leading them to huddle around the seed. "Yes, I didn't call you. I didn't call anyone, to tell the truth. I was stupid, I know."

"You were more than stupid!" Merlin blurted out, still showing the same anger. Fortunately, he did not scream again. "You could have botched it up, do you realize that? No Heart of Avalon, no Camelot, Hisirdoux! The Castle would have crashed to the ground and we would no longer have a way to keep us away from the Order except the rescue shuttle and little else!" 

A gasp escaped them all, practically simultaneously. 

Just the mental image of the situation gave Claire chills… and she probably wasn't the only one who sensed them running down her spine. 

"I know, I know!" He quipped, before making a frustrated noise. "I realize that, all right. But Master..."

"And don't 'but master' me!" He aggressively blocked him. "You are still irresponsible! You not only endangered everyone, but yourself in the beginning. And all because of your obsession!"

'Obsession?’ Wondered Claire to herself, biting the inside of her cheek again. 

Douxie was silent for a couple of seconds. Merlin did the same. Claire wondered for a moment if the weird audio bug-seed that allowed them to eavesdrop had already been noticed, but before she opened her mouth to share the hypothesis with Nari, the talk resumed. 

"It's not that," said Douxie, his voice so low it sounded like a mumble… and so brittle it seemed ready to break. 

A strange silence hovered in the group as they stood almost clinging to each other. Steve opened his mouth to say something but suddenly closed it again.

"I was stupid, okay. I've said it and I'd repeat it three hundred times if I had to," asserted Hisirdoux. "But the Staff and the Master title have nothing to do with it. I..." more silence, but less long than there had been previously. "I heard a hint of Aura last night. A few notes and nothing more. I wasn't sure if it had been there for real or… or if it was maybe simply a feeling." 

"It wasn't." Merlin's voice emerged again, this time calmer and more restrained if still cold and almost reproachful, accompanied by a sigh. And probably by a rolling of his eyes, shaking his head in disapproval. "You should have followed your instincts."

"At that moment I didn't know that! I wasn't sure I was right, and I just wanted to… to avoid waking up the whole castle over a feeling I thought was stupid," a snort was heard. "Especially without having any real foundation. And if I had, you would have been angry anyway, because I wouldn't have had the palpable evidence to show you." 

Merlin seemed to ignore the last sentence as if Douxie had not said it at all. "But in the end, you didn't call anyone. Last night you heard the Aura. This morning you were still fighting her."

"I didn't have the time to!" Douxie sounded somewhat annoyed.

"You had a whole night, how is it possible that you failed at something so simple!" 

An irritated grimace painted itself on Claire's face and she closed her hands into fists, feeling a distinct instinct to curse. Why did Merlin always have to be like this? He had a talent for instilling guilt and shame in people. 

"The Witch was in his head until this morning. She trapped him in a hallucination." Said Archie, inserting himself into the conversation and audibly sniffing. "She was trying to extrapolate where the Heart of Avalon was."

"Nemain touched me while I was investigating," Douxie added, sighing. "Even if I had wanted to warn anybody, unfortunately, I was unable to."

Merlin was silent for several seconds. Then. "What about you, Archibald? What do you have to say for yourself?"

The dragon did not take long to answer. "I think if anyone should take the blame for what happened, it's me. I felt something was wrong with Douxie and went to check it out myself, telling Claire to leave it. Then I got caught."

"What… No! It's not your fault, Arch!" Retorted Douxie much louder than before, his tone somewhere between shocked and angry. "I was already confused. I can only imagine what the hell you were hearing from my side." 

"I didn't get that one," Toby interjected in a mumble, cracking the blanket of attention and general listening. 

"Relationship between Wizard and Familiar," replied Nari, smiling. "It is always different and very weird. It seems that Douxie and Archibald share emotions."

"I should have warned," said the dragon again, stubbornly. Not listening to the Wizard at all, it seemed. "Had I done that, the situation would not have bent in such a way... Had I done that, you would not have been hurt at all."

"It's just scratches, nothing that won't go away in less than a couple of hours with the magic flow and a decent breakfast."

"Would it be possible that they also read each other's minds?" Asked Claire in a whisper. "They have given me that impression at times..."

Nari nodded, "It could be, yes. Their bond is very strong."

"It was going to eat your face!" He insisted, snarling and hissing. "And those aren't just scratches. A little more and he would have cut you open in two. Or, as a matter of fact, in three."

"It hasn’t been able to. And the cuts no longer hurt or bleed. That's good enough for me." Douxie snapped. Archie sounded like he was about to protest again with his growling, but the Wizard interrupted him. "And it's my fault anyway. I was distracted. I allowed Nemain to get there. I should have resisted more, she was in my head after all..."

"With the memory you had chosen? You had already worked miracles, Doux!" Interrupted Archie with something that sounded very upset. "I was the one who told you to do everything to throw her out! Of course, I didn't intend for it to come to that, but I also didn't think that…"

"Enough! Both of you!" Intervened Merlin, jerking them back up and probably having the same effect on the two in question. His voice almost seemed to boom inside the seed. "Both of you are to blame. End of story," he said. 

Claire, had she been there, included for real in the conversation, would have given him a nasty answer. Neither of them had been to blame, in her opinion. Who would have imagined that a Hallucination-loving Witch would have decided to target the castle out of the blue? They had done what they could. 

"We're lucky it didn't end badly, it seems that fortunately, it didn't slow us down too much. Tomorrow we’ll be in Laos by midday," Merlin said. Then he paused. "That doesn't change the fact that you already broke so many of the rules I gave you. More importantly, you broke the worst of them all."

Claire practically paralyzed on the spot at the last sentence, as a second chill ran through her. She sensed anxiety begin to flow through her, causing her to swallow hard. Her heart lost several beats, then sped up all at once, causing an avalanche of them, totally devoid of stable rhythm. 

'He knows...' she thought, tightening her lips.

"You have entered Morgana's room, even though I especially told you not to..." his voice was so damn loud that Claire felt the shiver running through her entire body. 

"I…I'm…" 

"You have taken the Shadow Magic book…" 

"Yes, but Master…" 

"Do not 'but master' me, again! I thought I taught you better than this, Hisirdoux." 

"But I…"

"You are teaching Lady Claire how to use Shadowmancy!" Merlin shouted. Douxie audibly let out a frightened gasp. Archie started growling in the background. "What on earth were you thinking?" 

"She needed help," Douxie whispered. "I just wanted to…"

"Help? That would be helpful? You should know very well that that kind of magic only leads to suffering!" 

"That's… not true," Hisirdoux said, slowly. Almost as if he was trying to stop himself from speaking, or as if a thought was spoken instead of staying inside his head. 

"What did you just say?" Hell. Merlin sounded so venomous that Claire felt her stomach roll and twist with fear. And she wasn’t in front of him. She could only imagine how Douxie was feeling.

"I said that that's not true!" he responded, weirdly raising his voice a little, being suddenly able to catch a bit more courage, instead, taking her by surprise. "You've convinced yourself of that because of what happened to Morgana." 

"And that's not concrete proof for you?!" 

"No! It is not!" Douxie had definitely raised his voice this time. And she could hear the anger in it, which almost made it tremble. "Claire is not Morgana Le Fay! " 

"She has the same magic! She will become exactly like her! The thirst for control, the desire for power over humanity, and her unstable emotions will get the better of her. Sooner or later it will happen, and it will all be your fault for trying to help her out!" The last phrase was mocking him. 

The girl opened her mouth, as if trying to say something, but without even knowing what exactly. She clenched her fists once more, feeling herself barely shaking. More fear and cold anger began to tear through her chest, taking her breath away. 

Her eyes settled on Jim, hoping that his presence might relax her at least a little, enough to silence the buzz of pure horror that just wouldn't leave her alone, putting her thoughts in total disarray. The anger, too, was stronger than ever. She felt it run inside her so strongly that she wanted to punch Merlin in the face.

'Pedazo de mierda.' she thought. 'You're putting him at fault for things that he isn't guilty of. You're putting him already at fault for things that would be my fault, instead!'

Jim returned her gaze with concern. She boiled silently, ending up staring at the floor a little bit later. 

"You… You still don't know that!" Douxie sounded hurt. And angry. And scared, too. "You say that because that's what happened to you! You're saying it because you cared and it hurt you to see her fall apart. Because you are stopping yourself at what you saw her do!" 

"Hisirdoux, I do not accept such insolence..." a low warning. Incomplete, though. 

Douxie, in fact, drastically ignored it, interrupting him. "No! I don't care what you think about her! Claire is not Morgana, Master." A pause. "Magic does not delineate people, just as people do not delineate magic!... You're the one who taught me that!"

"There are exceptions." Retorted Merlin, coldly. And still angry, but not screaming anymore at least. 

Douxie made a sound that was the interlude between a snort of frustration and an angry shriek. Such that the girl could almost imagine him slamming his hand down on his face. Were it not for the background of anxiety and fury that ran through her from head to toe, she might have even laughed a bit. 

'I don't want to become her,' whispered a little terrified voice in her head at the same time, with horror pouring out of every single word. 

She shuddered, clutching herself just at the idea. And she then sensed both Jim's and Toby's hands resting on her arm. Then those of Blinky, Aaarrrgh, and even Steve were on her shoulders. She bit his lower lip and tried to smile at them, even as she felt the maggot grip her throat. 

"Her sound is different!" Returned Douxie to say in her defense, somewhat exasperated and almost panting from the effort. Which appeared a little strange to her on the one hand, but between facts she ended up removing from her thoughts. "It barely has two notes in common with her, and the rest doesn't even resemble her in cadence!" He continued. "You see the color of her Aura and dwell only on what you think is in common! How can you not notice the scale of opposite shades? Or the smell? I have no idea what her magic smells like, but I could bet it's not the same in that either!"

 A hint, albeit slight, of the terror still stirring in Claire's veins hushed at those sentences. 

'...Really?' 

Merlin didn't respond. There was the sound of quick footsteps. 

"What made you so easily prejudiced? And when did it happen? Since she was freed? Or at the Battle of Killahead itself?" Asked Douxie then. His voice was soft as silk, and sad. Almost mournful. 

Merlin remained silent again, which was weird counting how loud he had been before. The Apprentice was silent in turn, perhaps waiting for the answer. Then a sigh was heard. He probably realized that he would not receive it. 

"I'm sorry if I've failed you, Master," he said, cracking the total nothingness, but saying it almost in a whisper. "I'm sorry if I keep relentlessly disappointing you ... I'm sorry if I've almost ruined everything." He sounded sour and bitter in every smallest letter. And Merlin Ambrosius' silence became almost loud in some ways. The girl could feel her heart hurt for Douxie. She closed her hand in a fist. 

"...But I'm not sorry I decided to teach Claire. If it were not for her, none of the Trolls could have fought against the Chimeras. And if it hadn't been for Aaarrrgh, like Archie said, I'd probably be dead by now," a pause. Very brief. But one that seemed endless to her. She barely swallowed. "You said earlier that last night I should have followed my instincts. I didn't, and I'm calling myself stupid once again if it pleases you..." 

"He insults himself quite often," Steve said, covering part of what he was saying with his voice. They all shushed him in chorus, leading him to raise both his hands in the air. 

"...doing it in this case. And I'm sure I won't regret it."

"And let's hear, for what reason?" returned Merlin's voice, in an almost ironic tone.

'Dios, I want to slap him,'  she thought. 

"Because I believe in her, " he said, matter-of-factly, without even thinking about it for a second, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world, so much so that it made her eyes widen in surprise. "Just as I believe in all of them. Shouldn't that be enough?" 

"People let you down, Hisirdoux," Merlin commented. And sighed. "You should know better… unless your naiveté has taken over your judgment."

"They are going out of their way for Nari!" He sounded even more exasperated than before. Understandable with the hard head that was the Master Wizard. "They defeated Bular and Gunmar... Fuzz me, you turned Jim into half a Troll, even! What else do you need as proof to evaluate them as individuals?"

Something in Claire seemed to utterly soften. That something that had partly stiffened in the talk Hisirdoux had had with the Witch, albeit in a tiny and almost imperceptible way. Nothing so much as to bend his image, but a hint nonetheless, yes. 

Perhaps because of the frightening, almost all too natural ability to lie that he had displayed. Perhaps because Claire had believed for a moment that he was betraying them, with the sentence Nemain had said and the fact that Archie was in danger. 

Of course, on the one hand, she would have understood his need to protect his Familiar—their bond was very strong, Nari had said it, too. It was the obvious response to the situation he had found himself in—but just the idea had made her feel betrayed. As if she had sought too much in him and had been burned as a result. 

But at that moment, with that speech, as it added up to the events of the previous day...she began to think again about what had happened from a different light. 

Douxie had played a part in front of the woman, just as Claire was used to doing in the theater. 

He had protected them all and had managed to distract and turn the enemy around, improvising everything on the spur of the moment, trusting them to understand him. Trusting her to do what she had to . He had to be as convincing as possible, even though he had known that one wrong word could blow up the stalemate he was in with the Witch and thus make everything worse rather quickly, especially for Archie. 

Claire remembered what he had told her the day before. The talk about pulling out any plan that could have had as much effect as a complicated spell, albeit one that was less likely to succeed. Kind of like a bet. 

'It did have an effect,' she thought, looking at the woman, still there, who seemed to have lost consciousness—Claire didn't know if she was faking it or not. She would keep an eye on her, she promised herself.

Even though what she said was strange, maybe he had already turned her over in his head, too. Or maybe it's something else, she didn't know, but…

'He trusted us.'

Total respect ran full through her chest. For she knew that if she had to decide between someone she cared about and the Heart of Avalon, she probably would not have made the right choice. And she would not have fought the stress so easily. 

Even the fear lessened in her, though it did not disappear completely, remaining in a little corner of her chest in a vague, indistinct presence. 

'He believes in me,' she thought, resolute. 'I will not betray that. I will never become like Morgana.'

"...Do as you want." It was the simple reply, ever so rather dry, from the older Sorcerer, breaking the silence. Cadenced footsteps followed. 

"W... Wait, Master!" The boy's voice rose again. "I wanted to..."

"If you wanted to apologize one more time, you can avoid doing it. What is done is done now. The Heart of Avalon will recover."  

More footsteps were heard, some more uncertain, then the opening and closing of the door, albeit with such delicacy that it made almost no noise in its movement except for a slight creak. 

Nari had the little seed put out rather quickly, not hiding it, merely stroking it with her fingers. Then they waited, some returning to take yet another look at the Knight who had not moved an inch from the bed where he had been left. 

Claire leaned her head against Jim's shoulder, who had remained there with her.

'We should trust him, too.'

********

Merlin, having just returned to the room several times later—Douxie and Archie a little further back in position from him, as if they wanted to keep a safe distance from him after the scolding they had received—did not take twice to order Nari to move the Witch from the wall to the floor. When the half-goddess did so, he put what appeared to be a metal collar around her neck. 

"With this, she is unable to use magic," he said, responding to their confused expressions. "I'll take her to the dungeon." He cast yet another glance at his Apprentice—who had not taken his gaze off him for a second, his brow furrowed—and then rolled his eyes. "If you care about questioning her, do that later. But she will be dropped before we move to Shenyang to avoid further problems." The two simply nodded. 

He then allowed Nari to release her from the plant only after he was sure she was seriously unconscious, adding handcuffs to both her arms and legs. 

"Regarding Sir Galahad, I'll prepare a potion to wake him up from his hallucination, in case he doesn't already do it himself within a couple of hours." He then said once he had finished the task. "In any case, we will reach the next stop shortly after 6:00 in the evening. I want you all on alert. Nari will be with you for a while, then I will come in person to retrieve her. Do I make myself clear?"

A chorus of "Yes." rose, accompanied by nods and a few—a couple—of annoyed expressions. Claire's especially. Then, Merlin, dragging Nemain away, floating her in front of him in a position reminiscent of a sack of potatoes, returned in the direction of the door. But before he left, he went back to look at his Apprentice. He merely observed him, as if he wanted to add something… and sighed before finally leaving the room. 

"Well. Uh… I would be a little bit hungry," asserted Toby, almost immediately after he disappeared, to break the ice. "How far along was the breakfast preparation?" 

"Huh?" Confusion crossed Jim's face for a moment with a frown. Then his eyes widened. He had seriously forgotten about it with the general mess. "Oh, yeah! The Raspberry Roll and Coulis!" 

'Good thing they weren't timed foods, maybe to put in the oven, but…' Jim thought. 

The rumbling of someone's stomach was heard. It was unclear whose it was exactly, and no one expounded, which made Steve automatically remove himself from the equation. But then there was one more, and Claire's distinct blush was quite obvious. 

"Um. Shall we go?" She asked, quite embarrassed. 

The question led them to hurry to get out and to the pantry as quickly as possible. For the first time, Douxie and Archie stood at the back of the line. In the front were Jim and Toby instead. Claire, Nari, Aaarrrgh, and Blinky were in the middle. Steve was right behind, but before the duo, barely whistling, casting glances at them.

'If you want to be discreet, you're failing miserably,' thought the Trollhunter after looking at the blond for only a couple of seconds—and noticing the puzzled looks Archie was sending back to Steve, while Douxie was rubbing a temple with his hand from time to time, not even noticing the situation, as if he were in his world—before turning his head and trying to get back to following the signs on the walls. 

"How are the injuries, Mister Casperan?" Asked Blinky suddenly, perhaps noticing in turn the attitude and wanting to avoid the blond being the one to let slip of their eavesdropping. 

"Huh? Oh... They are fine, Mister Galadrigal," a pause. "They just pinch a little," he said. 

Archie snorted at the sentence. Douxie glared at him, but it was short-lived. 

"How was… Uh… The talk with Merl…?" Steve questioned.

They all cringed and were almost paralyzed on the spot. 

'What the heck, Steve ?' Jim thought, sending him a quite bewildered look. 

"...Could have been worse. And better." Douxie said, shrugging. And not wanting to talk more about it. 

Claire was starting to regret the eavesdropping. She kinda wanted to try to say something because of how distressed he had sounded before. And how tired he looked right now, too… but doing that… Well, he wouldn't have understood. Or he would have, something that probably would have been worse. 

"Well, uh. Jim prepared breakfast for all of us, Teach." Claire intervened, smiling at him. "You don't have any allergies, do you?" 

"Only peanut butter and soybean," he answered, responding to the smile. That, too, was short-lived. 

A few seconds later, he frowned and grimaced. He shook his head and blinked a few times, then forced himself to slow down. Something the dragon noticed, leading him to stiffen like a plank of wood over his shoulder. And Claire too, who frowned and opened her mouth to say something, failed to. 

"But how can your wounds just pinch ? It's not normal as a thing," asserted Toby, looking straight ahead and not behind him. Not realizing. The questions in part would have been a good thing because the total lack of them would probably have seemed rather bizarre and suspicious—especially on Steve and Toby's part—but on the other side it wasn't. Not at that time. Not for Archibald, nor for Douxie. 

"I heal fast," he said, his left hand trying to lean against the wall for support as he stopped walking and his right hand resting on his forehead. This time, Nari turned around, tearing confusion from Blinky and Aaarrrgh as well and leading them to do the same. 

"How fast is that? It must have been what? Half an hour? About twenty minutes? Or even only ten? They were claws, not toothpicks." 

"I don't..." he barely began to say, before stopping himself from even speaking "...I don’t know." 

Archie stood in front of him immediately. "Do not move," he ordered dryly. It was a single sentence that caught the rest of them all off guard, causing them to stop and turn as well. 

Douxie chuckled softly. "I'm not about to faint, Arch," he muttered. 

"Not right now, but you're not far from it," blurted the dragon, before changing form. 

He took on the appearance of a tall, all-muscle, dark-skinned boy with short fire-red dyed hair and brown eyes—which in all honesty some of them seemed to have seen somewhere before. Maybe in Arcadia Oaks—and took him in his arms bridal style before his Wizard could protest. Or lose consciousness, ending up falling backward. 

Douxie, however, was too tired to say almost anything. Arguing was much harder than that. He merely leaned his head against the Familiar's shoulder. He saw everything in almost uniform spots, splashes of color sailing before his eyes in total disarray. And he could feel one side of his forehead throbbing, even more than before. 

He could still hear Nemain's screams echoing, making his ears ring. He could still feel the panic buzzing inside him. 

"What..." Claire was the first to approach, her concern already crossing her entire face before she settled her attention on Archie almost instinctively "Is he okay?" 

"He has emptied his magical charge. And rejected resting," replied Nari immediately, taking two steps forward—or backward, counting where they should have gone—"Like the Bones Witch."

Looking human, Archibald made a strange, somewhat irritated expression—an irritation evidently due to the mere mention of Nemain, so much so that had he been in cat form he might have lowered his ears before snarling, wagging his tail and showing claws—then looked back at Claire, albeit trying to show a modicum of self-control. 

"That tired feeling you experienced earlier? There, that's one of the two stages before the one he's undergoing now. If you hadn't listened to your body's needs and continued to use magic to the bitter end or to exert yourself physically, the same thing would have happened to you," a pause. "Douxie overdid it, as usual." he said.

"...I heard you," muttered the boy in an offended tone, pressing his face more against his shoulder. 

"Good. At least you're listening to me now."

Hisirdoux said nothing at first. "Recklessness in starter pack moves?" He then asked in a slightly joking, but very, very weakened tone. That one sentence tore several confused expressions.

"At the highest level," agreed Archie, sniffing. And resuming walking, clutching more tightly to his Wizard, who huffed. 

"What?" Asked Toby with shock, after a scant moment of silence. Neither of them answered, as the Familiar seemed to be too preoccupied to pay attention to anything else, while the Wizard was barely awake.

Chapter Text

TRACK 10

The world I know can hate you

The world I know can break you

But as you go remember, I'm by your side

The love within you can heal these tears that burn

(As you go - Red) 

********

Toby, Claire, Steve, Nari, Blinky, and Aaarrrgh sat around the table more or less quietly as Jim returned to the kitchen station, starting to finish his work. 

Archie, shortly thereafter, gently propped Douxie on one of the chairs, then, once he was sure he would not fall off it, returned to his original form. 

Hisirdoux did not fall but ended up banging his head on the wood with a thud, a single crash that did not even rip a cry of pain from him. The others, all except Nari, assumed weirded-out expressions.

"Bro. You good?" Steve commented, then looked at Archie. "Are you sure this is normal? He seems dead." 

"It is." Archie shortly answered, wagging his tail. "He had done worse before. He's lucky he has a hard head."

Douxie mumbled something unclear.

"What did he say?" Asked Toby, confused. 

"Nothing important. He insulted me." The dragon blurted out, jumping on the table and rubbing against him, to force Douxie to pull himself up slightly. But failing, for he did not move even a millimeter from the woody surface. 

He murmured something again. 

Archie sighed. "Now you eat, then go to sleep. No excuses." 

"Mmmmmh." The raven-haired boy answered more with a humm than anything else at first. He did not retort in any way. Quite the opposite. "...'kay," he muttered. 

Jim in the meantime continued his work, turning from time to time. He had little to go; he just needed to finish the final details. 

Without the worry he had felt earlier—which had breathed down his neck quite a lot—he was managing to work much better. 

He thus finished the job in a couple of minutes, placing the Roll with the Coulis on the five plates and serving in front of them with quick movements. 

Steve jumped on his food as soon as it arrived. Toby, Claire, and Nari thanked him and waited for him to sit down. He first grabbed the basket that would be his breakfast, then extended other ones to Blinky and Aaarrrgh.

Archie moved his head after he sat down, similar to a silent thank you, as he resumed trying to pull up his Wizard. This time succeeding in his goal, causing him to raise his head with a somewhat blank stare. His iris seemed to have made the pupil disappear.

Douxie struggled a bit to grasp his fork, from what Jim could also notice rather easily because his hands were shaking intermittently. So much so that it made him wonder if this would even cause Archie to feed him himself. And it also made him worry a bit, more than he expected—And yes, it had been made clear that it was normal and that he had used too much energy, but was that really how it worked? Wasn't it too much?... Maybe not. Still, it looked terrible and he didn't envy him, not even a little—But after a couple of seconds the boy thanked him in turn—or tried to—and started to eat.

Douxie, shortly after, emitted a sort of hoarse blessed moan at first bite—Which tore Jim a shocked expression. It had been a while since he had received such responses when it came to his cooking. And most of them had been from his mom.

"...’s really good." He mumbled as if the noise he made had not already testified to his appreciation. He reminded Jim of when Toby had been under drugs after a dentist appointment. 

"Thanks," he said simply, shaking his head clean. He chuckled after a while. 

"Archie, who exactly was the Witch that Douxie fought with?" Asked Claire following a quick swallow of a piece of Roll, at the same time that he took flight and returned to cook himself a piece of meat from those still dangling from the ceiling. One of the few remaining. There were barely two. 

"Nemain Mac Eo Chahid was one of Morgana Le Fay's handmaidens," replied the dragon after landing on the table again. " The 'Bones Witch' is one of the many nicknames by which she is called nowadays. She is seen as a deity by Ireland's Witches and population. It can be said that, besides being a loyal follower of the Mother of Monsters, she was her apprentice." A pause. "She did not stay in the castle long, however. Douxie and her knew each other more by face and Aura than by anything else. Nothing more, nothing less."

"I heard the Earth talk about her in this last millennium," agreed Nari, "a lot of rumors have come in about her and a group of two others in particular."

Hisirdoux blinked a couple of times, probably trying to understand the talk they were having in its entirety and not just in small pieces. He merely nodded his head. Then he pulled a small piece of colored cardboard out of his pocket, placing it on the table.

Everyone looked at it, mostly confused and intrigued.

"...Fell… before," he said, then returning to bite the Roll, one hand going first to hold up his head as he chewed and then to grip the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

"What is it?" Asked Jim, looking repeatedly at the image drawn on it. There seemed to be a sun and a snake biting its tail, but there was more than just that. Some signs appeared even more meaningless to his eyes than the Anglo-Saxon writing. They seemed... made completely at random.

"A Sealed Emblem," replied Nari, immediately pointing and explaining each piece of it "The Ouroboros, of eternity. The Sun, of cosmic force. The Seal of the achievement of one's goals and the runes of Ancestors and Union. This is a reunion request for every magical being around."

"But a reunion where? It doesn't say a specific place... And when?" Asserted Toby, as Steve opened his mouth, to say something totally out of place, perhaps to ask the same question. "For what, too?"

"A location spell would be enough to find out, probably," Archie said, adjusting his glasses with a paw, and casting a glance at his Wizard. "Or maybe a keyword… or again, a revelation spell that tells both where and when," a pause, "the meeting… I think it is related to trying to recruit members to enlarge their ranks. To commit to the destruction of humanity. "

Steve gasped like a fish out of water, then made a piece of Roll go sideways. Claire started to hit her hand on his back to help him out.

"At least it's not the total destruction of the Earth this time," Jim quipped with a nervous tone, grimacing.

"No, but Skrael and Bellroc do want that," reminded Nari, making them shudder. 

"In any case, for that very reason, Nemain's Coven is an issue that has to be postponed," Archie concluded. "They aim for partial destruction, however cruel it might be. The rest of the Arcane Order, to a total wipeout. Unless we were forced to..." he sighed. "Well, It would be best not to think about that for now."

Jim nodded quickly. So did the others. None of them seemed particularly convinced, however. Not even Archie himself.

********

After breakfast, they returned to the base room rather quickly. 

Archie, as soon as he arrived, placed his Wizard on the mattress, then, following the arrangement of the blanket, returned to his original form. After a couple of turns on himself, looking for the most suitable position, he curled up in Douxie's arms, who laid on his left side, utterly motionless—and had lost consciousness completely halfway back. 

Archie perked up his ears, already standing in attention out of instinct. His nervousness was strong enough to shake his tail repeatedly. Precisely because of this emotion, after casting yet another glance toward Douxie—seeing his relaxed expression—he started to look out of the window. The curtain had been moved slightly, albeit not by much, and showed the landscape in more of a hint than anything else. 

It was raining. It had started raining recently and not lightly. The sky, though it was still morning, had darkened so quickly that for a moment he had looked at Claire, almost expecting to see her at work with her magic, something she had not been intent on doing. And it seemed almost ironic how in the moment of need such a thing had not happened, while the moment, serving no one, had happened so out of the blue.

Large black clouds had indeed moved in because of the strong wind, which also stirred the waves of the sea, causing them to crash noisily against the rocks. Seagulls could be heard screaming in the distance, but they were drowned out by the sound of the air current.

At first, it looked as if there would only be a hint of bad weather, which led the Trolls to hope to go outside for a breath of fresh air, especially counting the total lack of sunshine... but then the first drops had taken to landing on the surface of the balcony, ticking like impatient fingers on a table. And they had been followed by a billion more, faster and more aggressive, reminiscent of roaring applause. 

'No, it's not raining anymore, ' he thought, 'It's pouring. '

From there, both the Trolls and the others realized that they would not get the chance of it… and that they would have to surrender to the evidence by staying inside the castle. 

There was then a great thunderclap, which rumbled through the sky to the point of being terrifying. It ripped the jerks from a couple of them—mostly from Steve and Jim. The latter became as white as a sheet, showing sudden stress—and his utter annoyance. The noise stunned and almost deafened him, so much so that his eardrums vibrated. Douxie, as tired as he was, did not move an inch. Not even to raise his head for a second before dropping it back on the pillow. Even his expression was unperturbed.

After a couple of speeches more or less in a whisper—a small attempt that he rather appreciated, although he doubted that even shouting would wake his Wizard up at that point. Not in such a state, at least. In other cases, even mild mutterings would have gotten him up, ready to figure out where it was coming from or otherwise do whatever he could think of, saying he couldn't waste any time, especially if there was no particular problem to be solved—they had planned at first to return to the same room they had used the previous day to train. But after small glances in the direction of Nari, Claire, Douxie, and Archie himself, they seemed to change their minds. 

And they had set out instead to play cards. Precisely at Uno. 

They had explained the rules to Nari as quickly as possible. The half-goddess had figured out the mechanics of the game fairly quickly. Archie had seen middle-aged men—and not from other times—have much more problems despite how easy that game was in his eyes. Sometimes those had even wanted to bend the rules. Or make them up out of whole cloth, as if the other players had not already explained a thousand times that they could not be changed and that it would therefore be seen as cheating. Hence he could call himself partially and pleasantly surprised by Nari's ability to adapt. 

Had Merlin been there instead, he could only imagine what a disaster it would have been. A funny disaster—maybe not for everyone, perhaps only for him. He was quite fond of chaos in certain situations—but still a disaster. Kind of like all the games played with Monopoly. 

The dragon, partly following the game, partly always checking outside for safety, rubbed his snout against Douxie's face, purring a bit. 

He could feel the almost complete emptiness in the boy's feelings, something that comforted him, if only to a certain extent. On the one hand, he was glad that his Wizard was not being plagued by nightmares in that sleep that he needed almost like oxygen, especially at a time of fragility like that, but on the other hand, it made him sad that one of the only ways he could sleep—especially with people around—was to make himself so exhausted that he fell into total nothingness without even meaning to. And without having dreams of any kind, it seemed. None of the kind from which he would wake up in a good mood, humming or whistling some cheerful tune. 

This was not healthy, Archie knew it very well. But even insisting, trying by his presence to provide him with a stable anchor and trying to send as much reassurance as possible in his direction was not enough. It hadn't been enough either the first night or the second—though only a small part of it, since the rest of it had been... how should he put it... unexpected. Yes, that was the word—permanence. 

'Kind of like how my trying to protect him wasn't enough ,' he said to himself, sniffing. He felt discomforted just at the thought. 

Archie was frustrated. Frustrated with himself and furious with the Bones Witch. 

Had it been up to him, the woman would have died for trying to touch his treasure —and for even succeeding, moreover—but Douxie on that side had been too kind. He had managed to convince Merlin to just have her locked up shortly in the dungeon instead of just throwing her off the castle immediately. Okay, Douxie wanted to ask her questions, but all Archie's instincts told him to keep her as far away from his Wizard as possible. It told him that having her inside Camelot—incapacitated to do spells, unlocatable and for a short amount of time or not—would only bring unnecessary trouble. 

The trouble that he would appreciate even less than the one that they had already encountered up to that point. The trouble that would probably have added to the mess there would have been with the Arcane Order, perhaps, though he highly hoped that it would not. He had told the Guardians not to think about it to try to lessen the burden from their shoulders—they already had enough—but that didn't mean he didn't.

Archie had no idea exactly what the other members of Nemain's Lair were like, but if these were even slightly like the Witches from Arcadia Oaks, they would have gone to the ends of the Earth to help her out. And they would have shown all the power that angry magical creatures could unleash, especially with personal revenge included for having harmed one of them.

If he then counted the Bones Witch's blatant grudge against Douxie, his mind could already imagine how it would turn out. An image that already had him snarling and gnashing his teeth, feeling an overwhelming urge to bite something, anything that could lead to the fulfillment of that mental sequence. 

'If that happens, I need to be ready,' he thought determinedly, dropping a glance at the gauze covering the cuts caused by the Chimeras. Just looking at them again reminded him of Douxie's screams and instantly froze the blood in his veins. 

'It won't happen again. They won't get that close again. I'm tired of seeing him suffer.' 

He sure was. He was tired of seeing him get hurt, both physically and psychologically. He was tired of seeing him try to hide it from anyone but him—Not that he could hide it from him except when too many emotions, too many thoughts, and too many magical perceptions were piling up. That case was even painful sometimes. Archie in turn couldn't do much about it either, not that he wanted to do it in the first place—just like he was bothered by Merlin's existence that day—though on the other hand he was grateful to him anyway. The Chimeras were mostly gone thanks to him. 

But he would have to get over it one way or another. Not least because he knew the man would never apologize anyway, so even carrying a grudge against him for the attitude he did not appreciate was just a way to make his mood worse and that was all. 

So he tried to relax, removing the bad mood by sensing his Treasure's steady breathing, his heartbeat, which was also quite steady, and his body heat, which was not exaggeratedly hot or cold—even if it tended to the second—They were already a huge reassurance.  

Douxie, even in his utter unconsciousness, seemed to sense his need to remove tension. He barely moved, holding him even tighter to himself, not even as if he were a stuffed animal. Archie's purring rose even higher in volume to this involuntary gesture—so much so that some of the Guardians even turned their heads in their direction, though he did not realize it at all—and rubbed his head against his cheek for the second time in a short time.

'I will always protect you. Whatever it takes,' he thought, ' I will always be by your side.'

********

Playing Uno. In the flying castle of Camelot. 

Just thinking of it as a phrase sounded like the beginning of a stupid joke to Claire. 

It was a way to pass the time, not one she would have enjoyed the most ever and not one that seemed particularly useful—especially since she had three main points occupying her mind that would have been much more necessary. The first was training with magic, but without Douxie she was already automatically taking that away. She could have asked Nari, perhaps, but she had still chosen not to because she felt it almost as wrong or something. The second, go back to keeping watch, but Archie was already taking care of that. The third, requesting the location of the reunion of members that were going to be recruited from Nemain's Lair. She knew there was no point in doing this, but part of her wanted to try anyway. She honestly could not understand, exactly, what motivated them. Maybe it was that—but still a way. Still, something to do. 

That didn't change that it made her feel strange. That it led her to repeatedly wonder how she had arrived at such a result, how on earth her life had come to such a situation. As simply you could put; an existential crisis. 

And all while holding a twenty-four-card deck in her hands, having received five +4s in a row, when she had previously been the closest to win the game. 

The mix of switching turns, directed first one way and then the other, coupled with her total lack of cards with which to reciprocate—she had only numbers! And very small numbers, counting that she had thrown down the big ones in the early rounds to take off the heavy cards—had been devastating, to say the least.

And so she ended up with three different-colored Stops, two red +2s, a color changer, two 0s, a 2... and a lot of other stuff that she almost didn't even dare to reread, because it was far too many points for her taste. 

'Whatever, ' she thought, shrugging her shoulders, 'it's just a game.'

But, really, how had she gotten there? To play a game with a semi-deity who, though she had learned the rules on that very day, was tearing them all apart? Even Blinky who had been very close to winning, practically after her and before Toby?

Good question. Good question indeed.

She put down a red 6 on her round and sighed, casting a glance at Jim, who, deck-wise, was better off than she was, but not by much. 

Then she glanced at Douxie and Archie, the Familiar continuing to purr noisily, enough to be loud as Aaarrrgh sometimes was. 

The boy, on the other hand, was silent and statuesque—and freaking cute right now, but she deleted the thought as quickly as she could—almost completely still except for the soft breathing that lifted his chest up and down, albeit almost imperceptibly. 

If there had been trouble of any kind, Archie would have known about it first—which was good—and he would not have looked so relaxed in his Wizard's arms otherwise. Still, his gaze was fixed on the window with obvious attention.

"Claire, your turn," Steve's said loudly, catching her off guard and bringing her attention back to the game. She merely tossed one of the Stop signs. And to see, in that very turn, Nari's overwhelming victory. A fact that triggered both compliments and half protests in the process. 

Another game began almost immediately afterward. Even at first glance, the cards were much better for Claire, but counting what had happened earlier, she would get no ideas of any kind, simply letting it go and trying to avoid her competitive instincts. Something that was strangely less complicated than she thought.

********

Nemain gritted her teeth almost instantly when, upon awakening, she found herself bound in the dungeons with an anti-magic collar. She felt it tight around her neck and almost radioactive as if it were eating chunks of her skin just on contact. It was revolting, to say the least. 

"Casperan!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, anger churning in her chest like a snake, spitting venom in those simple eight letters. Her voice barely echoed between the walls. She then started to flail, immediately trying in vain to at least remove her handcuffs, slamming them against the metal of the cell. 

She only ended up hurting herself, however. The echo of the impact made her arms vibrate and almost stunned her in place. Being still weakened from burnout did not help at all. She blacked out for a few minutes. 

When she was back to her senses, she was even angrier. 

'I'll make you pay, I swear on my name. ' 

Seconds later, once the anger for her failure and the utter shame that followed disappeared from the center of her head, she left herself staring silently at the floor.

An idea, almost out of nowhere, started almost instantly to sail through her brain, leading her to evaluate the entire situation in a different light. And to plan things, considering various options. 

Nari of the Eternal Forest—the one that deluded her the most, because why, oh why was she there with them? Why was she on Merlin's side instead of her siblings—in particular, was the kindling that led her to realize the situation in which that little group found itself. 

She took a big breath and closed her eyes, a grin painting itself on her face a little more every second, accompanied by a mischievous dark giggle. 

Badb, Macha, and Donn would be enough to fix the problem. All she needed was to wait and convince them not to rush it later, somehow. Sure, Donn was pretty hard to restrain at times, but he would not come between her and her hunted prey. He knew her well enough to avoid doing that. 

 ' ...You will regret providing another weapon to my arsenal, Silver Tongue, ' she thought.

********

Veronese green eyes and freckles were images that clung to his mind like magnets when Douxie awoke. 

He pulled himself up slowly, not daring to open his eyelids to prevent possible light from aggressively assaulting his vision. 

"...How long did I sleep?" He merely asked Archie after a couple of seconds. He felt his presence around him—and knew he would be there even without that perception. It was a certainty. A reassurance that he gave him—and he fell back onto the mattress with a sigh escaping his lips. Suddenly hearing the sound of rain, however, got him back up almost immediately, as if nothing had happened, almost to make sure he wasn't imagining things.

A slight twinge in his back immediately made itself felt, leading him to grit his teeth and gasp in discomfort. The wounds that had been inflicted on him, however, could already be felt no more. And the feeling of fatigue was still there, but it was hinted at. One cup of coffee and it would have disappeared into thin air. 

"Oh, bro, you're awake," Steve's voice appeared, almost making him jump and wince on the spot from surprise. Kind of like the sound of people moving from mattresses. He forced himself to open and close his eyes repeatedly to remove the blurry masses he kept seeing instead of objects and people to have them take a little more shape. 

"Three hours and a half. It's 11:30," was Archibald's reply, mixed with the rubbing against him that made him smile softly. "You should keep sleeping."

"Not that tired anymore. It was enough." He rasped out. 

Then he gently leaned his forehead against his Familiar's muzzle, mentally sending him gratitude and affection, receiving back very similar emotions. The Soul Bond tattoo vibrated a bit. 

When he was able to open his eyes ultimately, the images were much clearer, though not one hundred percent. He found himself face to face with the entire group of Guardians, who were looking at him with slight anticipation and almost anxiety. 

He looked at them with confusion, unable to precisely connect such attitudes with anything he had done. Sure, he had been wounded, and in between he must have fallen unconscious after Merlin—oh, Fuzzbuckets, Merlin's earful. It had not been the worst received ever, but not even in the top ten lightest. Absolutely not—but there had been nothing that could make them so agitated out of nowhere. 

"What is it? What did I miss?" He asked, looking at them all.

"Uh. Nothing much. You seemed gone earlier. But like.. gone really hard." replied the blond. "So gone it was goddamn scary, dude ."

"I think he got it, Steve," said Jim, smiling at the other, just as Nari said something, without him being able to fully grasp it. Maybe it was because his brain was still a little clouded by sleep, maybe it was because he could still hear the screams that Nemain had sent into his head, and that annoyed him like never before, along with something he couldn't define. 

"Pardon me?" He asked, confused and almost embarrassed by having to have the sentence repeated, praying that it wouldn't happen a third time too—in that case, it wouldn't just be embarrassing. No, no. Much worse. But maybe Archie would have understood it better than he did. 

"You had started to… Well… Sound a little hurt in your sleep, Teach," Claire said, worried. "You didn't look fine, either." She asserted, leading Toby, Jim, Steve, the Trolls, and the half-goddess to nod. And leaving him to gape a little and wrinkle his nose. 

'What...' 

The same Veronese green eyes and freckles flashed back into his mind in a quick image. 

'Oh.' 

He partially held his breath, feeling his heart miss a beat and swallowing hard. A knot seemed to form in his stomach and he clenched his fists insistently, forcing himself to focus on the pressure of his skin and the stiffness of his own bones. 

He looked at Archie, seeing him wag his tail and watch him intently, stiffening when he probably extrapolated the image in turn, knowing perfectly its meaning. 

He ended up leaving gentle circular caresses between his shoulder blades, both for Archie and for himself. 

"It was no big deal," he hastened to say, feeling everyone's eyes on him in a way that made him feel seriously uncomfortable. 

'I don't remember having dreams...' he then thought. Of course, his mind might have automatically dismissed them, though... It happened seldom. It was probably tiredness and that was all.

'I didn't feel them either,' Archibald replied. 

'Good, ' whispered a little voice in his head. 

He immediately tried to get to his feet and was helped in doing so by several people at once, as if they expected him to fall at any moment. This may have been true, so he decided to thank them and get over it—He shouldn't have felt like a burden. He didn't have to. He didn't have to at all. Better to avoid those random sudden thoughts. Even just hearing one, small or otherwise, late in the morning… Well, it could lead to much worse. And counting what had happened in the previous hours, that something would not come lightly—hoping they would stop staring at him that way. 

"No, really. It's fine." He insisted, passing a hand behind his neck with mild nervousness. "I was just bothered by the hallucinations. That's all," he said finally, mainly because of Claire's unconvinced expression. But also because of a thought that returned to his mind. 

'No lies, ' he said to himself in fact for the umpteenth time, ' at least for a while, no lies.'

"If you need it, however, I have some herbs that might help you a little," Nari quipped. "Ashwagandha, Lemon balm, or Lavender for example. They would be perfect."

He smiled openly at her, gratitude sailing through his chest. "I would gladly accept it. Thank you."

The reply seemed to calm Archie as well, whose feelings had remained tense—a tension he wanted to take away because there was no way he could make his Familiar worry all the time like that. It was bad enough as it was and he was almost surprised that he didn't have so much white hair on his fur—as well as making Nari somewhat very happy. And her expression lightened him, all at once, as if he had lost some of the gravity weighing down on him. 

"Which one?" She asked. 

"All three are fine, you can choose, really," he shrugged, chuckling. 

"What is Ash… Ashwa… Ashgawa… Whatever, you got it, come on. What is it?" Asked Steve, voicing the question that seemed to be written on the others' faces as well. 

"It is a tonic," Nari said, "it is used mainly as a medicine. One should not exaggerate the doses, though," she added, making the very plant appear in her hands and showing it to everyone. "Could give stomach ache, nausea, and diarrhea."

Aaarrrgh sniffed it and made a disgusted grimace "... Stinks." He said. Archie sneezed in confirmation, as he did every time he found it under his nose—Douxie had tried it about three times. It had been quite a while since the last one. 

Nari laughed at their reactions, "Yes, it is stinky." She then made a wooden glass appear out of thin air, shaping it before their eyes through a spiral that twisted around itself. Douxie perceived its melody, always similar to the violin, literally causing a musical scale, with a very fast tempo. 

She stretched it out for him, then crumbled the Ashwagandha into it. All that was missing was the hot water at that point, which Douxie made appear tentatively, not wanting to get hurt again, but without fail. His Magic—with its very soft sound, only a bit strained on a few chords—seemed to have already recovered enough, a fact for which he could not help but be grateful. 

Had he been a normal Wizard, it might not have been the same thing—Zoe, after one burnout, had taken seven hours to recover. Which was why she had been annoyed at him a lot, telling him he had a fu… Well, swear word… dumb luck. And he honestly couldn't even feel guilty about that. That almost abnormal ability had saved his so-called pretty—by many, but oh, not important—behind plenty of times. 

"Thank you, again," he said with a slight movement of his head, immediately taking a sip, careful not to burn his tongue and palate. It was warming his stomach in an extremely pleasant way, but he could feel where it was going. 

Nari simply continued to smile at him. "Still no need to."

"I still will. My apologies," he said, "So, what did I miss?" He then asked, moving strands of hair from his eyes with a hasty movement of his free hand. 

"Nari destroyed us all at the Uno game and then to Gin Rummy in each round," Toby quipped. "She learned how to play both games today."

Douxie had to interrupt himself from drinking instantly to avoid spitting his herbal tea, swallowing hard as a burst of shocked laughter peeped from his lips. 

"Chapeau," he said to her, gesture and all, barely shaking in a desperate attempt not to burst out laughing a second time in a short period. 

The half-goddess smiled in a way that only served to make it hard for him to get serious again. "It was fun," she commented. The light in her gaze testified to it throughout. 

"I can imagine," he replied, feeling the silly grin still painted on his face without a hint of control. Nor any way to disappear. 

He needed several seconds before he was able to drink again. But then he resumed, letting himself walk a little and leaning his back against the wall. The Guardians began to quiet down, a little at a time, perhaps noticing that he was not sick or something like that—he probably didn't convince them by telling them before. 

Archie, on the other hand, began to fly around the room again, not taking his eyes off him for a second. 

'I'm fine, ' he told him, arching an eyebrow. And then sighing. 'Sorry if I worried you.'

Archie simply sniffed. ' You better be. You have to stop overdoing yourself.' He said. 

He then looked at the group again. Even though they seemed more content, he still felt kind of wrong… Maybe guilty. At first, he didn't understand why, exactly. But then the answer was born through his mind, leaving a sour taste on his tongue. 

"I wanted to apologize, by the way. To… To all of you." He found himself saying it out loud even before he realized it, so much so that he was surprised by hearing it come out of his mouth, passing his gaze over everyone rather quickly, causing him to dart it to the floor just as fast. "For... Well. Giving trouble that could have been avoided... and for what I said while I was trying to fix the issue. I acted like a prick, even though I didn't mean it. So, uh. Sorry about that."

There was a brief moment of silence. Douxie was already partially ready to slip out of the room, mute as a grave and mentally slapping himself for speaking. And having probably revived irritation that had perhaps been buried, somehow, thus ruining everything—as usual. How wonderful. But apparently, the feelings he accumulated between that moment and his Master's heavy criticism had overflowed, willy-nilly.

But then, before he could get going, Claire intervened, showing a quiet and perhaps all too understanding expression. So much so that he might have preferred to have her yelling at him instead because it seemed to make more sense in his head. "It's fine, really, Douxie. It shocked us at first, but we understood. You were trying to help Archie." 

Jim nodded, so calmly that it made him feel even more puzzled. 

"You were a bit bad, well, yes, but… I have to say that it was so cool !" Said Toby instead, leaving him widening his eyes in total shock. "You were like… So serious, but serious-serious! Like… like a supervillain on a TV show! Sure, before I realized you were acting it was pretty terrifying , to be honest, but then it all came together, and bam! The chills." 

"What…" he simply gaped, not having the slightest idea about what to say in front of Toby's exalted expression. "Uh…" a pause, "thanks, I guess?" 

'How the bloody hell is everyone so understanding?'

'You warned them after all, didn't you?'  

'Yes, but...'

"I understood right from the start," Steve said—lying—raising his head and chest with satisfaction and bringing his hands to his hips in a rather funny way. "So no problem, 007 ."

"Yeah, right. Your lost puppy expression said one hundred percent how much you had it all figured out," Claire retorted instantly, rolling her eyes. 

Steve tried to retort—probably to throw in a speech about how it had just been an impression of Claire or something—but was blocked by Douxie himself who intervened, kinda feeling his heart drop at that phrase. 

"Sorry…" 

He remembered his expression. Just thinking about it kinda squeezed the air out of his lungs, making him feel even guiltier. 

"No, really dude! It's fine, don't worry about it!" the blond insisted, waving his hands in front of him. 

"By the way, that laugh of yours had been… a little creepy, if I may say so," Blinky said matter-of-factly out of nowhere, raising all his arms in the air, with a weird look on his face. Almost sweating. As if he was hearing it again inside his mind. 

"It was totally out of context…?" he muttered, kinda embarrassed, clearing his throat and sipping the herbal tea, going to point at the Familiar with a finger just a bit later. "Archie's fault there ."

"It wasn't my fault there ," blurted out the dragon immediately in an offended tone, going to fall back on his shoulder and sniffing. "I had only said facts. You don't get to laugh just because of the tone in which I tell you things ."

"If you sound so scandalized and annoyed, what do you expect from me?" 

"You should be used to it," a pause, "and anyway , only you could quote Britney Spears in such a situation."

"... Guilty." He admitted and let out a soft chuckle. "Couldn't stop it."

"Britney...Spears?" Asked Nari instead, appearing confused and causing Archie to stiffen on the spot. "Who is she? A Witch, perhaps?" 

Douxie opened and closed his mouth. Then he opened it again. "No. She is a pop singer from 1998 who..."

"She is one of his many musical Singers and bands fixation, like Queen, My Chemical Romance, Elvis Presley, Goo Goo Dolls, and many others. So much so that he still can say every song of theirs date by date and word by word, except swear words," concluded Archibald, suddenly smirking. "A necessary postscript; if you ask questions in the music department of any kind , be prepared for hours-long speeches. He opens his music nerd side and nobody stops him anymore."

Hisirdoux facepalmed, in more than total embarrassment. " Thank you, Archie," he said sarcastically. 

Buckets, he really had to expose him like that.

By his Familiar's expression, he regretted nothing. 

"But how... I thought you were just a Rock music kind of guy," commented Steve, puzzled. 

Before he could say something, Archibald interrupted him. Again. "Rock is his favorite. That doesn't change the fact that he could start making a list of the genres and related currents he loves... and not even stop after reaching six hands."

"Six is few," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "There are like 690 styles of music around the world," a pause, and many people's eyes widened at the number. "To list only 30 of them is a crime."

"That's my point. And then you say your phone's low memory is due to the pictures and not the almost endless playlist you have."

Douxie groaned and huffed, quite annoyed, seconds apart. 

'Let's not go back to this again, please, and thank you,' he thought. 

'You know I'm right ,' he retorted. 

He rolled his eyes, then looked at Aaarrrgh. The Troll didn't say anything before but was listening with a peaceful expression. 

Douxie, after biting his lip, instinctively bowed to him. Archie did the same—if they hadn't been in that position, they would have noticed the shock written on the others' faces. 

 "I owe you. Thank you," he said

When they looked back at him, Aaarrrgh smiled a big soft toothy grin and lowered his head slightly in return. "No need," he said. 

"You too," Archie added, turning towards Toby without thinking twice, before Hisirdoux did that, too. "Thanks."

"Oh, it's fine, really." Toby waved his hand, seeming kind of embarrassed, pleased, and prideful at the same time. This before looking like he remembered something. "Speaking of cell phones..." he elbowed Steve, who brightened up in turn. "...Your number."

Douxie blinked, confused. "...Okay," he said simply, grabbing the phone which the blond stretched out to him and quickly dialing it. And then returning the object, deciding not to ask too many questions. 

He saw him save his contact simply with a 'Doux' nickname—another one. Again. The kind that Archie sometimes used. And that it was less strange to Douxie than bro , in all honesty, but he could fit that one too, at this point. Alice called him Munchkin , which was even weirder, but that had become so habitual that being called by his name by her was far more strange to him. They weren't the 'bad nicknames'. 

One of the only things that he remembered from his mom, at this point, was that she used to call him Didi . 

Douxie hated his brain. 

"Well, then. Selfie coming up in three... two... one…" a second to load the picture then, "nice."

He arched his eyebrow at that sentence, then connected the pieces, albeit in short delay—Maybe because it seemed to him that more time had passed than had happened. Perhaps because his head was partially elsewhere, whether he wanted it to be or not—so much so that he felt stupid. 

"Thank you." he asserted again softly. 

A few seconds later, his number was shared with the others as well, starting with Claire who briefly snatched the phone from Steve's hands to mark it down, ripping a shrieked "Hey!" from him that she so smoothly ignored. 

Chapter Text

TRACK 11

I don't want to live

So calloused and frozen, ugly and hopeless

I don't want to live forever

I just want to live right now

You can't take me from me

Voices in my head again

(Voices - Motionless in white) 

********

"But if we are in Laos by midday tomorrow, won't that be a problem? That is, as long as we don't have bad weather like right here, right now..." began Toby, casting a glance first at Jim and then at Aaarrrgh, stabbing a tomato with his fork, waving it a little in front of him before putting it in his mouth.

"We'll wait until nightfall, I think," Archie observed, waving his tail, caught visibly off guard, "or it's likely that one group will stay in the castle while the rest go down. I wouldn't even be surprised if Merlin himself went looking for it on his own, and then brought the Keeper and his tools here."

Claire licked her lips, then wiped her mouth with a napkin. She frowned and stared at the table first. Then she looked at the half-goddess. "Nari?..." she asked. 

"Yes and no," Nari replied simply, tilting her head and barely shaking her legs under the table. "Merlin needs me for the Phalaenopsis. We know it is in the rainforests, not far from the Kuang Si Falls on the outskirts of Luang Prabang, but not how far it is from the villages."

"Huh?" Claire made a confused expression.

"Localizations can be precise in location, but difficult in what's around it," Douxie replied. "Put very simply, it's kind of like using Google Maps, but without having the feature that allows you to move around. You have a mental image and where it is on the map. That's it..."

"And in any case, even with a proper map and tourist explanations on the Internet you get very little out of it," Archie added. "Sites are complicated."

"Oh," the girl bit the inside of her cheek, "so we can't know how many people might risk seeing us in the process, invisible shield around the castle or not."

Nari nodded. " Whether day or night will depend mostly on the people present, in fact," a pause, "Camelot itself will enter the Portal. The Dimension it opens may be quite large, so it may not be easy to find the Keeper..."

'Oh. As in theory, it should be done with the Portal for the trip back in time, then ' thought Douxie, frowning. Getting the whole castle through one was going to be a tad bit difficult, but not that much either. More a physical effort than anything else.

"And we can't leave the Castle unprotected," concluded Blinky, almost mechanically, causing Nari to nod again. "That sounds like a good idea."

"But if you don't mind me asking, how do we get out, then? I don't think it would be appreciable to be trapped there," Jim made with a somewhat strained expression.

The half-goddess smiled openly at him. "The Keeper will have no problem sending us out. As you know, he has activated the Phalaenopsis Core. So he is also connected to it."

"Okay. So… Getting inside the secondary dimension. Finding the guy. Then the reconstruction of the broken shitty pieces. Then the whole back in time Travel thingy. We'll figure out who the ugly green guy, with his hideous Creeper things, is. Then we'll keep running from him and the biting castle… or try to… until we end up fighting with the other two buttsnacks anyway ?" Steve asked in an almost thoughtful tone, not even if he had to use every single neuron in his brain to list everything. This a plausible fact.

Nari nodded with a small movement of her head.

"So many quests!" The blond's tone was so excited as he tapped the bottom of the cutlery on the table with a big grin on his face. "It's like being in a video game. Like Final Fantasy 7!"

"Pft. The risks are a little bigger than in a video game, but you want to look at it," asserted Archie, starting to lick his fur after a couple of seconds.

"Hmm. I wouldn't be so sure," Douxie commented, arching an eyebrow, then barely smirking, "some people would smash Computers and Playstations over someone's head after a game, Arch..."

Archie sniffed, waving his tail. "I know that. A lot of almost murdering. A lot of screaming. And a lot of cheating."

"You're acting as if you wouldn't have made an overdramatic fuss just for a Roasted Salmon," muttered Douxie, receiving a mild headbutt from the dragon and then chuckling. "So much drama in that case."

"That's a different department." The Familiar sounded quite annoyed.

"Their survival depends on it, partly. So the danger is the same. Especially on some of them!" intervened Toby.

Douxie and Archie looked at each other without saying anything.

"...The Youtubers, the Influencers..."

"Mary herself," quickly added Claire, nodding. "Oh, yeah. You should have seen her reaction when she lost all of Love Nikki's saves." She was somewhat pained for a moment just remembering that. It had been a nightmare.

"And the ones who create them," Jim chimed in.

"Oh! Pepperjack was trying to create one. I didn't understand much about it, but it was pretty cool." Steve ran his finger across the cell phone screen as he ate, nearly losing it from his hands and retrieving it more by luck than anything else, although he exhibited a satisfied expression. This drew a smirk from Claire.

"Wingman," commented Aaarrrgh out of the blue, receiving a big smile from the nominee. "Play Go-Go-Sushi."

"Video...games? Final Fantasy 7? Go-Go-Sushi?" Asked Nari, more than a little lost at that point—Youtuber and Influencer had been a topic already covered in the previous day's meme talk—as authorizing Toby and Steve to throw themselves back into a, somewhat tentative, general explanation.

Archie seemed more than mildly exasperated for a moment—maybe because they had strayed almost entirely from the initial topic—but after looking at his wizard he recoiled and let it go. 

Douxie chuckled, starting to fiddle with a piece of carrot before bringing it to his lips, but without biting or doing anything else. He simply placed it on top for a couple of seconds, before turning serious again suddenly and wrinkling his nose, casting silent glances at the Familiar and receiving them in return.

It did not go unnoticed as a change. Neither by Claire, nor by Jim, nor by Blinky. And after a couple of seconds, the boy blinked several times, opening and closing his mouth, asserting a simple "True," neither from the others.

"What's true?" asked Claire, almost instinctively, causing him to raise his head in surprise and probably realize that he had spoken verbally. And not mentally responding to whatever mental conversation he was almost certainly having with Archie, whatever it was.

"Uh..." Hisirdoux waved his hand hurriedly, then brought it to the back of his neck. "It's nothing, just a thought. You can keep talking, pardon me for interrupting.”

Claire frowned, puzzled. And she was not the only one to show confusion, quite the contrary. Plus, nobody resumed talking. That was perhaps why the boy ended up sighing and responding.

“I thought I'd make a little stop in the castle. Just for a couple of checks, that's all. You guys can go back to sparring when you finish eating. I'll catch up with you shortly."

“For what?” She asked.

"It's… just for Nemain," he said, snatching a slight general surprise. "Before we leave her, I thought I'd ask her some questions," he shrugged. "But it's pretty obvious that unless I have a truth potion, some ingredients to make one or a couple of Lapis lazuli... or even their essence in Tibetan Water to use, which I don't have , I won't be able to get her to talk in any way."

A "Tibetan Water?" and a "Lapis lazuli?" were asked almost at the same time.

"Oh, yes. If you cast a spell on them, they work like a charm," said Nari, smiling.

Jim's expression remained surprised for a couple of seconds, then recovered. "So your stop...?" 

"Well, I wouldn't want to disturb Master Merlin right now..." he made a slight grimace, the meaning of which was quite obvious. Claire tried not to show her instant annoyance, however, clenching her fists under the table, inspiring and exhaling. "So I wanted to look through what I left in my room. Hoping something will have an effect." 

"Even truth potions may not work?" Asked Toby with shock. "I thought from Harry Potter that it was foolproof."

Toby's comment drew a laugh from Douxie. "Well, Harry Potter doesn't see everything right about magic stuff, I'm sorry to say that."

"You mean there's no such thing as an Animagus ?" 

"Shapeshifters? Yes. Still it's a bit more complicated than how they write it."

"Patronus?" 

"Nope."

"And there are no Unforgiving Curses ?"

"Fortunately, no. No spell kills you instantly. Some give you an effect similar to the torture spell, but they are still different and depend on the Wizard Magic abilities. The only one that exists, in a sense, is the Imperium . But it is difficult to maintain and control, it has to be connected to an enchanted object... Or the backlash would be quite heavy."

Jim's expression became grim and serious, all at once, "Like in the sword that Gunmar had." 

'The one he used on Drall... ' Claire thought, opening her eyes wide and feeling a knot forming in her stomach. 

"...Yeah. Like that one," Douxie merely said, tilting his head and staring at him silently. 

Jim changed the topic before anyone could say anything to him. "So why doesn't the truth potion work sometimes?"

"Uh…" Douxie looked confused by the change but decided to respond anyway. "Magic and wizards grow constantly, so there are factors of probability rather than certainty. In the norm of the Middle Ages…? Or a little after? That was a certainty," a pause, "but now, in addition to depending on the outcome of the potion, the person ingesting it is a factor that drastically affects it. For example, as with certain poisons, if said person has taken large doses of it and her system has become accustomed to it, then it won't affect her... Then there are even those for whom it just doesn't work by power and bloodline," he grimaced. "Lots of stuff."

"Couldn't you maybe get into the witch's mind as she did with you if needed, Mr. Casperan?" Asked Blinky, surprising Claire. It wasn't a bad idea.

'An eye for an eye, basically ,' she said to herself.

"I could try, yes," he admitted, "But hallucinations are her main field, not mine. I may be good with illusions and a few other factors. I may have been able to give her a bit of trouble between my thoughts… but I'm almost one hundred percent sure, though, that if I tried, she'd kick me out instantly. Magic or not magic." 

"Uh... What would be the difference between hallucinations and illusions? Aren't they the same thing?" Asked Steve. "I thought they were."

"It's a bit complicated to explain..." he replied, wrinkling his nose. "A hallucination is an internal, mental thing that isolates you from external sensory stimuli. It is usually experienced by one and only one person unless the spell is particularly powerful," he paused, "but still even if it were the same hallucination for everyone, it would be a perception in which others are not present in your point of view. Just as it is difficult for you to be in theirs." he drummed his fingers on the table. "The mental image that is sent to you may contain other people, but they are not real. Still, if you have enough control and if you realize you are in your head, you can be able to change things to your liking."

Claire for a moment wanted to ask about the hallucination the Bones Witch had thrown him into and what had happened, but ended up shushing herself.

"Illusions are distortions of reality, partial or extensive ... and can be suffered by several people at once. They are less personal and aggressive, more pranks than anything else. Like this one," he made an apple appear in one hand and tossed it into those of the blond boy, who immediately tried to catch it by instinct, letting out a half-sharp shriek when it went through him and then disappeared, reappearing between the raven-haired boy's fingers before vanishing a second time into thin air.

"Oh," Steve continued to look at his hands for a couple of seconds, then traveled his gaze from them to Douxie. "Cool."

Hisirdoux chuckled and went back to moving the carrots with his fork, the last ones on his plate. "So yeah, to go back to the original speech, you guys can go back to yesterday's room, it won't take me that long. It's on the way."

Claire looked at the others, just as the others looked at each other.

********

"You have a skull in your room!" quipped Toby with an extremely shocked expression once they arrived. 

"Mmmmh, yes. A decoration to make the room more cheerful." Douxie smirked at the brown-haired boy's shocked look and the perplexed faces of the others—including Jim's, because honestly, what the hell?—starting immediately to rummage through his old closet. "No, all jokes aside. It's a tool to gain spiritual power. And to respect the previous owner of the room, nothing more." 

"I don't remember seeing one in Morgana's room," observed the Trollhunter, unable to not compare the two rooms. The Witch's room had been much larger, embellished with shiny objects and paintings. This one looked more like a broom room in size. It had a bed in the corner with short, neatly folded blankets, a small sink, a bucket that was a short distance from a small wooden tub, books stacked against the wall, one on top of the other, and a little more.

"Either it wasn't in plain sight or maybe she didn't need it anymore. The second is the most likely," he replied, barely turning away in his speech. He then started to pull out various scrolls and shifted to the left the three cross dresses that were in that small wardrobe. "Or perhaps, again, she had found a worthy substitute."

"The ones on your necklace and belt are just plastic, aren't they? I mean, you're not seriously bringing two skulls with you, right?" Asked Steve, as Jim ended up flanking Hisirdoux, placing himself to his left.

"Yep. Okay that the Tsantsa are shrunken heads, but they're not that small, anyway," he observed, with a slight snort slipping from his mouth. He moved an almost black wooden chest, likely much heavier than it appeared. "And no, I didn't shrink them with magic. Not even for magic flow safety." 

"Oh, good to know," the blond barely chuckled. He approached in turn, turning around, however, to look at whatever caught his attention.

"Should I have one too?" Asked Claire. She was a little creeped out by the idea of having a real skull—she had a small fake one—leaning against the desk or on a piece of furniture in her bedroom. But at the same time less startled than she would have thought.

She had gotten used to having a Changeling as a brother, got used to the existence of Trolls and all that. Having a true piece of skeleton in the house seemed almost normal in comparison—She and Blinky stood to the right, a short distance from Archie, who was flying in place, all three of them watching the chest in turn. Archie stood on his Wizard's shoulder after a short time as he laid it on the ground.

"Not obligatory, but if you want one, I can find one for you. Some gems are just as perfect in such an outcome, anyway, though perhaps a little less direct. Back in the day they were harder to find, and the few there were in the hands of the rich, used as jewelry and not for their true nature... or Master Merlin had them out of necessity," said Douxie, frowning.

"Should I ask him to give us an Amethyst?" Interjected Nari before he ultimately opened the chest, leading him to look up in the direction of the half-deity. "It would resonate perfectly with her Aura and it would protect her from evil spirits, too." 

Nari stood off to the side, passing her gaze over all of them, mostly observing how Toby and Aaarrrgh—somewhat further back than Claire and Blinky—were looking out the window at times, as if to make sure it was continuing to pour, the former perhaps still surprised by the skull if his expression testified to anything, especially in his casting glances at it. 

"Yes, that would be perfect!" Said Hisirdoux, brightening. And then definitively opening the chest, which changed his expression quite quickly. He almost sighed in frustration. It wasn't the one for potions. It was the one in which he had put all the scrolls from his study of runes and the boards in which he had trained to replicate them.

"Why did I have to get three of the same style?" he muttered, rolling his eyes.

"You didn't like the others," Archie replied, "and they cost a lot more if I remember correctly."

Douxie shook his head, going to tilt it while pulling out the second chest as well… which was too light to be that one. And the third was missing, which made him frown. And not just a little.

"Maybe it's under the bed," the dragon returned to say. “You rearranged things before the last few months.”

"You're right." Douxie nodded hurriedly and immediately started to sort out what he had messed up.

"Why leave a box with potions under the bed?" asked Steve. "I understand magazines, but a box. With potions. That's weird , dude. Like, really, really weird," a pause. "Besides, you don't have anything there," he pointed at the bed with a shocked look, waving his hands a little just a bit later. 

Douxie smiled at him. "Apparently," he said.

Then he walked over to the mattress, moved it to the side, and placed his hand on the floor, raising a couple of pieces of it, taking advantage of the escape routes. In doing so, he showed an obvious hole, not too large to risk collapsing the floor, but enough to keep the third chest and a few other items scattered in it.

Jim noticed among them an old notebook with a ruined cover, from which some pages barely protruded, not coming from it because of material—and color, counting that if those in the notebook were a creamy white, the others were a straw-yellow.

It appeared very used, quite different from the much better-edited books he had glimpsed at. 

"Ooh. That’s cool," said Toby. "But why hide them like that?"

Douxie shrugged, pulling out the container. "It was kind of like having a small treasure. Like hiding albums or random stuff, making a hole in the backyard. That's all."

"So is this your secret diary or something?" Steve asked amused, grabbing the very notebook that Jim had looked at.

"Uh, no...It's just some old drawings," he replied, his gaze that had previously only rested on the casket settling drastically on the small object, taking on a strange expression for a moment. An expression that disappeared so quickly, however, that Jim thought he had imagined it. "Landscapes and other things, nothing much."

"Are you also an artist?" Asked Claire, surprised.

"Oh, no. Not at all. I leave the actual drawing to anyone but me. I had tried them out to pass the time and to get a good hand for runes, more than anything else..."

Steve opened the notebook, started to flip through it, and immediately showed all of them sketches made with charcoal. They were indeed for the most part landscapes. But there were drawings of Archie, of people, cows, and horses that also popped up from time to time. Some pages had been visibly torn. 

"But they are beautiful..." Claire said again, the words escaping her lips in a tone of protest. The others, Jim included, agreed. Some were very childlike, especially the first ones, but as they went on, well, the line became finer and more precise. 

Hisirdoux didn't say a word. He did not seem embarrassed. He just looked unconvinced by the previous comment, his lips tight and a frown on his face. He simply lowered his head as a thank you, then returned to the box as if nothing had happened. 

Douxie opened it and started to repeatedly lift small closed vials and ingredients, also kept inside small containers. 

Jim returned to the drawings instead. His gaze fell especially on one of the many straw-yellow pages, on which was a portrait of a woman with long hair, partly held back by jewelry. She had a gentle smile on her face and… something he couldn't quite attach to, not until he looked up, meeting the Wizard's profile.

'She does look like him... ' he thought suddenly. 

Jim opened his mouth and closed it, saying nothing. He didn't ask any questions, even if he kinda wanted to. 

When he looked at the sketches again, Steve had already passed the portrait, showing a sketch of fruit held by hands. Then a boy in armor, sitting cross-legged, his back leaning against the edge of that same bed that was in the center of that room. His eyes were closed and his expression quite serene.

A sigh was heard. "Nothing. In case, Nari, could you… Uhm… Could you please ask Master Merlin if he has one? Or some Lapis lazuli, if he has them, besides the Amethyst? I have almost nothing here for truth potions."

"Sure." She replied immediately. "When he comes for me, I'll ask him for them." 

"Thank you... In return, I think these might come in handy," he asserted in a half-voice as they reached the last pages of the notebook, leading Steve to close it and hand it to Douxie, who was going to pick out a rune and make some vials disappear inside the bracelet.  

"What were they?" He asked. 

"Three doses of illusory potion. The person who drinks it will always be the same as they are but will be perceived differently by those who look at them for twenty-four hours each. You never know..." Having said that, he accepted the little notebook and made it disappear in turn. Then he resumed tidying up. Both the chest and the floor pieces.

"Shall we go?" Douxie then asked before anyone else could speak. It was more of a rhetorical question than anything else, as he almost immediately started to set off. 

Some of them answered with a verbal "Yes" and others just nodded. Then they left the room at a brisk pace. 

Jim, Toby, and Steve were ready for a new round of fighting and Claire for her second magic lesson.

Merlin passed them halfway. Nari followed him. Before disappearing, the Old Sorcerer said he would send what was requested with a sentry.

********

Douxie returned to pick up the Book of Shadows, beginning to read it from where he had left off. 

Just holding it in his hands gave him a strange feeling that he struggled to suppress; a nervousness mixed with something that reminded him of Morgana Le Fay's presence. And just thinking back to her, he could not help but feel a heavy sadness deep inside. 

Part of him, especially in the first months after Killahead Bridge, had wondered if there had been a way to change things... Maybe by doing something different, he could have avoided the negative turn in which events had ended up. But after a while, he had become convinced that wondering was futile. As he had concluded that, no, he alone probably would not have been enough. 

He had never understood her, no matter how much he wanted to. Just as she had never understood him, probably. Of the two of them, she had always been the smarter one, of course. But still, they had only been students of the same Master, nothing more. Talking about origins, magic, their relationship with life, responsibilities, and character, in short, they had always been opposites. 

The only thing that had perhaps united them, apart from Merlin, was the fact that both of them had been seen as monsters by some parts of humanity. But even with that common reception, they had come out on opposite sides, like two incidental straight lines. 

Now, she was dead. When Claire had been able to trap her inside the Shadow Realm on the day of the Eternal Night, she had been in a burnout. Instead of getting helped by the shadows, she had been destined to be consumed by them. Six hours in it were enough to kill her. It was a price to pay. 

Douxie strongly advertised Claire to not push herself with a lack of magic and energy, especially not by being too near to a Portal. He didn’t want her to end in the same way. To be utterly honest, he didn’t want Morgana to end up in the same way, either… But it had been either her or humanity, it seemed. It still hurts for him to think about that, though.

Seeing Merlin's sentry appear, crossing the wall, helped him banish the thoughts. Claire, in his place, grabbed the small pouch it left behind before disappearing and immediately opened it, showing the contents to both of them. 

The deep purple of the Amethyst shimmered before his eyes. It was larger than the palm of Claire's hand, but Douxie found it quite normal, counting that the girl's hands were absurdly small and thin. Next to it were three Lapis lazuli, two almost entirely dark blue, the remaining one with light blue hues flowing into little white veins, tracing small paths on the stone. 

'No truth potion. Okay. That's fine ,' he thought. ‘ Fuzz me, questions or not, I don’t want to go back to see Nemain, later.’

"You should keep this one as close to you as possible when you're sleeping or otherwise in your resting moments," he said, grabbing the purple stone at its ends. "The more your mind is clear of thoughts, the more its effects will take root."

Claire nodded and he put the Amethyst back in its place. Afterward, she set the bag down in the corner of the room, returning to his side in no time. And resuming sending him glances of pure anticipation. 

"Okay," he ended up muttering, forcing himself to follow what was actually written in the volume and not the negative feelings attached to it, therefore returning to make it float in front of him, exactly as he had done the previous day. "The position is still the same."

Claire immediately raised her arms and head. Compared to the first attempt ever, the way she presented herself was already more valid, but her hands were leaning too much on the inside. 

"May I?" He asked, just to be sure—not everyone liked physical contact without a request. He was one of those from time to time, a bit more than he would have liked to admit, especially with unknown people, but even with friends when his mind was somewhere else. It disturbed him—receiving a little nod. And so he immediately moved her wrists as less aggressively as possible, so that her fingers were outward and not too much attached. 

He then gave two quick touches to Claire's shoulder, more to get her full attention than anything else. 

"Remember to breathe first," he said. 

The girl barely smiled. "Sorry," she asserted, inhaling and exhaling. 

"What for?" He smiled back at her. "It's normal to be tense, whether you want to be or not. You know you have to exploit it, but that doesn't mean it's not instinctive to get caught up in it." 

She nodded with a grateful expression, then returned to staring straight ahead. Her melody hummed at a low volume, whispering notes that resembled the tinkling of doorbells, accompanied by piano keys, leaning more toward the high-pitched than the low ones. 

He glanced yet again at the pages of Shadowmancy's book. Once he was one hundred percent sure he had not lost pieces along the way, he resumed speaking. 

"So. Up to this point, we've been talking about how to get magic out in a more controlled way. For Portals, you have to have an additional concept in mind. Your destination. You have to have a fixed target in your head." 

He made a ball of blue light appear with a soft tune and threw it against the wall in front of them, causing it to go through it without having a real impact. 

"In this case, the Shadow Realm itself is your primary destination, but let's say you want to reach the room where the others are training." He then asserted. "That's your anchor."

Claire said nothing. She thinned her gaze slightly, merely nodding her head. Her magic picked up in volume, albeit not by much. Light purple auras swirled from her head to her feet, flickering at first, then gradually becoming steadier. 

'Good.' Douxie thought. 

"Now, instead of pushing out right away, you have to draw the magic around you. Accumulate the emotion. Mind on anchor. Only after you feel full of it you can throw it out. You can do it."

Her melody surged in volume. 

The high notes were joined by coarser ones after a while, which was also the ones with the greatest impact in decibels. Douxie found this strange but did not know how to interpret it if not thinking that Claire had probably changed emotions to lean on. 

Part of him wanted to freeze her in place at that sudden change, but the other whispered to him that he couldn't. Because whatever the reason for that exchange was, she had to learn to use it, too. Emotions were extremely fickle, he knew from experience. Getting used to controlling them all, one after the other, had to come naturally… or else, there would have been risk. Much more than there already was. 

A cluster of shadows, intent on rotating on themselves, started to form in front of the wall he had hit.

"That's it, Claire," he found himself saying, trying to suppress instant wonder and not even noticing that Archie appeared through the window for how he was engrossed in the situation. "Continue."

The raw notes continued. The purple around her, from the light, almost pinkish shades, had become darker, of a mauve hue. Claire's expression, for a moment, looked tentative. 

"Focus," he asserted with conviction. "The emotion you're feeling is not you, remember that. Focus, analyze it… And then use it."

Claire's look became even worse. 

An alarm sounded in his head. It became even louder as the notes, already low and loud, even began to jar, causing a stack of discordant sounds. He barely had time to open his mouth, wanting to stop her but failing, as the girl moved her arms out of the way as if to shield herself from an unseen blow... 

And... And the portal threw itself at her, engulfing her. 

'No!' screamed a voice inside his head as pure panic gripped him, causing his eyes to widen and his heartbeat to quicken. His breath died in his throat as horror and terror added to each other, pushing into his chest. 

'No! No, no, no! You idiot! You should have stopped her earlier! Damnit!' he went back to mentally screaming to himself. Archie tried to push the emotional shambles away, but the dragon's anxiety, though unintended, only ended up adding to the mix. And disappearing. 

On instinct—and in desperation, agitation, an insane desire to fix everything even though he actually couldn't do anything —he began flipping through the book at full speed, clinging to it as if suddenly it was the only way he could stay on his feet and not stagger backward, falling from lack of balance. 

Gravity had become heavy. It had gotten so darn heavy. And a cluster of quick, endless thoughts was cursing at him from behind with all the insults they could muster. In particular, 'freak of nature .' repeated itself almost twenty times, each of them getting the effect of a kick in the guts. 

'What did you think you were doing?' a voice, all too similar to Master Merlin's, returned to shout in his head as he continued to flick through it, the blood rushing to his head. 'Did you think you could do better? That you could help Claire? Did you think you could, despite being a desperate case? How stupid are you ?' 

There was nothing he could do. Nothing. He knew that. The pages were about Shadow Magic. He had no Shadow Magic. Apart from Claire…yes, apart from her, no one could solve the problem she had gotten into because he had been a too damn imbecile to stop her in time. 

Yet he kept searching through it. And he would search through again. And again, almost mechanically, his gaze going from sentence to sentence, word to word, at times almost not even grasping what he was reading because of how much panic was in his body. Even not seeing them, for they had become blurred and imprecise, like meaningless silhouettes. 

Nemain's screams added themselves inside his head again. 

His chest ached. He did not know why. His throat was dry as a desert and he could not swallow. He couldn't. He bloody couldn't. He could never do anything right . He had never done anything right in all the nine hundred years of his life, why the heck had he even thought that in this case, it could be any different? Why? 

He had gotten used to it. He hadn't . Not enough. Not goddamn enough. He wasn't enough. Never had been. 

He had hoped despite everything that he could be someone useful, though. Someone to lean on. Claire, the others, even only for a day—perhaps because they were not experts in the field of magic, not as they should have been—had looked at him with a special interest, a kind of interest that had made him feel strange, but in a bizarrely positive way, so much so that it had gradually softened his tendency to constantly find himself as unsuitable. It lowered the volume of that thought. It had illuded him into believing that he could help them. But it was more obvious than ever that this was not the case. 

He had made a disaster while fighting Nemain. He had made a disaster while trying to teach Claire. He had made a disaster even for showing up at the start, perhaps, requested or not by Merlin himself. His Master had done well not to ask for his help afterward, who knows what mess he would have brought there! 

He… He… Why? What was the point of his entire existence, exactly, if not to bang his head on problems upon problems, even making them worse while doing so? It was a constant. If he had survived up to that point, it was more because of dumb luck and because Archie was with him. 

What the hell was wrong with him? 

He… He really… 

Claire reappeared from a portal positioned on the ceiling, falling on top of him. 

Douxie ended up hitting his back on the ground, the oxygen—already scarce—in his lungs completely removed. A slight grimace of pain painted his face, but it was truly short-lived, for it was as if he had awakened from a nightmare and fully realized what had just happened. 

"Claire!" He almost screamed, pulling himself up to sit up sharply, ignoring the pain flaring and finding himself looking at the girl straight in the eye, his heartbeat drumming in his temples. 

A part of him, the same part that had insulted him earlier, whispered that maybe he was hallucinating. And not because of Nemain this time. He must have gone insane or something. "Is everything okay? Are you alright?" 

He did not venture to touch her in any way. Always the same part of his brain feared that his hand would end up passing her from side to side as with a ghost, even though she had ended up on him and partly still was, even at that moment—His brain ignored it. 

"Yes," she replied, smiling at him softly. "It's all right, Douxie," a pause, in which she hurried to her feet, trying to help him do the same with a worried look. 

'Worried for me. When she could have risked being trapped in the Shadow Realm because of me. It doesn't make sense. It just doesn't.' 

"Rather, you didn't get hurt too much, did you? I didn't mean to fall on you, sorry..."

She should have been screaming at him. She should have told him how bloody stupid he was, how her life was on the line and he didn't care enough. He should have. He was so goddamn toxic.

A tugged sour smile painted itself on his face, with a faint, partly exasperated, partly still agitated laugh escaping his lips.

"I'm fine," he said, his voice weirdly high-pitched, standing up in turn and ending between movements by staring insistently at the floor, a knot forming in his throat. He swallowed with difficulty, trying to not tremble on the spot. "I... I beg your pardon. I didn't stop you when I probably should have and..." 

"What?" Claire interrupted him sharply, surprised. "No. I'm sorry. I didn't tell you I was getting anxious for literally no reason. "

"You didn't need to tell me that," he retorted quickly. "Your tune had changed, but I thought you'd still be able to stay in control even though it was only your first time with the Portals without the Staff and…"

"Teach," Claire's voice, serious, interrupted him again, causing him to raise his head sharply. "It wasn't your fault. And it was no big deal. I was anxious and a bit scared, but I managed to analyze it and control it as you told me," she waved her arms in front of him. "I'm still here, aren't I?" 

"I should have been more responsible," he said angrily. Not at her, but she still looked at him with a bewildered look. 

Gosh, he was so dumb. And a hypocrite, counting what he had said to Master Merlin just a few hours before. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with him?  

"If you put it that way, then I should have been too," she said, after a while. 

Douxie looked at her. Then he shook his head while wrinkling his nose. "Claire..." he barely began to say, looking for something to retort with. But being stopped again. 

"No, I knew the risks. And I didn't tell you anything. It didn't matter that you felt my Aura changing, I should have said something in the first place, but I got caught up by being too needy and hard on myself. And by comparing myself with…" she flinched a little and paused. "I was scared of my abilities, of actually not being able to understand myself anymore and lose control. I should have told you."

"That doesn't change that I shouldn't have pushed you to proceed," he hastened to reply. "It was your first time. You were spinning unsteadily and I didn't interrupt you."

"You didn't, alright. I wanted to go on, too, though. I would have kept going anyway."

Hisirdoux opened and then closed his mouth, shock exploding inside his chest. He then sighed, bringing his hand to his forehead. He tried to chase away the aggressive thoughts that kept trying to devour his mind, piece by piece, but still, they remained. He grimaced. 

"I didn't mean to worry you," Claire said, gently placing her hand on his shoulder, making him wince and look like a startled animal. To which, she stopped touching him instantly. "I'm sorry."

Douxie didn't know how to respond to that. He could have said ' It's nothing' but that was a lie. An obvious one, too. He could have played it down, but his panic was still thriving inside his veins. He could have simply said ' It's my fault if I got worried because I'm the one that didn't bloody fix anything when I should have,' but trying to talk seemed hard. 

He simply nodded, albeit with difficulty. His heart had not slowed down yet and he felt as if everything was far too messy for his liking. He still couldn't perceive any of Archie's thoughts, for the most part, even though he was standing there beside the two of them, watching them with an expression that spoke more than a thousand words. 

"Okay," he found himself saying after a bit, bringing a hand to his hair, but managing to keep himself from tugging at the strands. Even though he wanted that. He wanted to pull as hard as he could, so the physical pain would follow. And would bring relief to his mind.  

"So…" he gulped nervously, raising his eyes and wanting to move away from the whole apology thing. And from the actual need to ignore his self-restraint. "...You were in the Shadow Realm. How was that?" 

She grinned. "Better than when Morgana had trapped me in it," a brief pause, then she returned to talk seriously. "I saw some strange things, though."

Douxie couldn't help but tilt his head with sudden confusion. "Like what?"

"The Arcane Order and the Green Knight," Clare bit her lower lip. "They were discussing something, but I didn't understand much about it. I couldn't hear them properly. Then…" a pause. "There were other hooded figures, holding seals like the one you found from the Bones Witch."

"Did you hear them talking?" asked Archie. 

"Yes. They said they were able to recruit four more people into their ranks," another pause. "They also were searching for something. They mentioned a weird name, something like Nem… Nemeton?"

Douxie became rigid as a wooden board. Same did Archie. 

Claire looked at them with a confused expression. "What is it?" She questioned. 

"It's… a natural temple, usually around or inside a tree. The place where, mostly for the Celtic magical creatures, rites and cults were practiced," he answered. He took oxygen and then threw it out. He then turned his head in the direction of his Familiar. He still could not read either his emotions or his thoughts, but only his expression told him everything about how he felt on the subject. 

"But, to put it simply, it's a source of energy, magic, and life. Many magical creatures were born from it, or so it's believed. It is also believed that people near it are going to gain much more power than they are supposed to have and control," added Archibald. "Nobody knows where it is, technically. The last one was destroyed, which is a good and a bad thing at the same time. No one is sure if it does exist in this century."

"But if they talked about it…"

"They probably think that it does… and want to find it to use it. Both for themselves and for the magical transfusion."

"Yeah…" Douxie gulped. "Once we finish the Skrael and Bellroc issue, I think we really will have to deal with this situation as soon as possible. Or… Something tells me it's gonna get so much worse." 

Archie stared at him. "Agreed," he said. 

'In that, I guess we'll need reinforcements,' he thought. ' If there are a lot of them, it would be best to study them first and then regroup. Asking the Arcadia Lair, Vanessa's past one, the one in Colombia and a few others might help, but they might not necessarily rush in or want to help out… Or. Who knows. Maybe some of them actually will want to ally themselves with them and not… Not to fight them. And who knows what disaster would follow anyway. I don't like it. This situation...'

He was used to fighting against other creatures. He was used to defeating those who threatened the safety of him, Archie, his friends, and of the humanity that could not defend itself. But he was not used to going against—on purpose—with his kind. And with so many of them. Facing the Arcane Order was already an exception in itself, but going up against an actual army of Mages? Just the thought was horrible. 

He turned back to Claire, trying to banish the images of death and war that bounced inside his head like flashes of light. 

"Pardon me, anyway," he blurted out after a few seconds. “I really should have tried to stop you before.”

She tried to retort, but then silenced and stared at him as if realizing she could not get him to stop apologizing if she didn't accept them first. Which was… Honestly true. 

"Okay," she said. "I forgive you. Please stop feeling guilty about it."

He chuckled—a bit tiredly—at her tone of voice and gave her a small smile, lowering his head. "Kinda hard to, but I can try."

"Good," she smiled a little for a second, but then she returned to a much more serious look. "Can we get back at it, please? If you need a moment, or… an hour. Or a few hours… I will understand that. But… Please?"

Douxie wanted to say no at first. But then he nodded, even if a bit unsure because he could not stand to let her down, not right now. He couldn't say no. "If I notice something wrong, and I tell you to stop…"

"I'll do it. I promise," a pause. "I have to be patient and not push myself. Understood the lesson."

He stared at her silently for a few seconds. She seemed to be honest. "Okay," he said in a low tone.

Chapter Text

TRACK 12

I'm just a would've been, could've been,

Should've been, never was and never ever will be.

Well, sharpen your teeth.

Tell yourself that it's just business.

(And the snakes start to sing - Bring me the Horizon) 

********

Steve wanted to be able to fight. Steve, however, despite the hint of coordination due to his good athletic physique, definitely was not an easy person to teach. 

Partly perhaps because of his impatience, partly because he wanted to prove to himself that he was capable, and partly because his ramblings at times seemed to take away from his thinking skills—he actually had them? That was surprising—leading him to throw himself on the attack screaming— wrong . It might have sounded cool in cartoons, a good way to throw off frustration and scare the opponent, but it was still very wrong —and waving the sword without any real study of the opponent's stance. 

The previous day's beating had certainly brought him down a notch, but not enough to remove his vain instincts. Those would probably never go away, Jim thought, but he still had to quiet his overconfidence in fighting or he would underestimate his opponents. 

Jim got quite frustrated when Steve went rogue, but on the other hand, when it happened, it was all too much fun to knock him out. That still didn't change the fact that he would have preferred that he managed to get some results instead of wasting time in such a manner. 

Had it been fencing lessons for fun, he might have taken it a tad more easily, but those weren't just any spare time lessons. It was not just any hobby. Steve had to learn how to protect himself, too. Or it was going to end badly rather quickly, especially if there wasn't someone there to have his back. 

Sure, he could help him out, but he could only do so much. In case he didn't get the chance, maybe there would have been someone else… But what if there was no one at all? That was going to be a problem.

If he compared Steve with his novice self, he could see what he had done better from the beginning… and what the blond boy did already by instinct, probably quite unconsciously, because in the second case, he would surely brag about it.

' Well, at least he is not an entirely lost cause. ' Jim found himself thinking after beating him one more time, tearing up with a noise of frustration, an annoyed comment about the pain in his butt, and a grimace... but to which he nevertheless rose after a short while. 

Jim raised an eyebrow. Another good point. 

"You need to improve your guard, Steve," he found himself saying to him, giving him two taps on his upper limbs with the back of his sword. "Your arms need to be lower. Your weapon needs to be an extension of your arm, not something that just swings forward, I told you that yesterday."

"Yes, okay, I understand! I just have to adapt. Give me a break, man."

"...And don't scream," he added, chuckling.

"Don't yell. All right," Steve started nodding repeatedly. And then he threw himself back into the attack again, landing blows left and right, but always without really taking into account the study of his opponent. 

In less than a dozen seconds, he found himself on the ground again.

"Oh, come on, really?!"

"Study how your enemy looks, Steve. You have to pay attention to other people's body language."

"But you do a lot of feints!" the blond blurted out.

"...I did not? Not even a single one."

At this comment, Steve put on a blatant pout. Toby, on the other hand, burst out laughing, waving his Warhammer, which had been in a confrontation with Aaarrrgh earlier in the day, though he paused to catch his breath. 

"Maybe he's not gifted with the sword?" Suddenly intervened Claire, appearing not far from Jim through a portal, from which Douxie had emerged as well, letting out a faint whistle of appreciation. 

"That's not true, I have a knack for the sword!" Retorted Steve in an annoyed tone, not even two seconds after she had spoken. 

"You managed to form a Portal without Morgana's Staff! That's great, Claire!" Exulted Toby, drastically changing the subject.

"And with a pretty good finishing position," said Douxie, receiving a satisfied smile from the girl. "...We're not that close to the door, but we didn't fall through the ceiling either. A big step forward."

"Fell from the ceiling?" Asked Aaarrrgh.

"Uh... Yes, it happened three times," she replied in embarrassment, with a peal of soft laughter.

"Emphasize just before saying three times . And remember, you've been working on it for less than an hour." Retorted Hisirdoux with a smirk, tilting his head. 

She opened her mouth, apparently not finding the words. Then she closed it again and nodded.

"Do you think a different weapon might help him?" Asked Jim to Claire after a couple of seconds.

"I don't know, mine was just a guess. You lot are the experts," she asserted, looking first at him, Toby, Blinky, and Aaarrrgh, seeing them all thoughtful and absorbed. At last, she laid her gaze on Douxie. He caught her look almost immediately, his eyebrow arched, something perplexed painted on his face.

"Don't look at me," he asserted instantly, tensing his shoulders and raising his hands, putting them forward. "It’s not my field."

"Hey! Are you all listening to me or not?" Jumped up Steve again, sounding even more offended than before at being ignored. 

"...Perhaps yes, maybe we really should let him try something else," said Blinky in a thoughtful tone, after casting a glance at him. "But for now, let's try to continue with the sword. It's only the second day. To succeed so quickly would be nothing short of a miracle."

The pout already on Steve's face visibly worsened, darkening. He looked so disappointed that it made Jim feel guilty, even though it was essentially not his fault.

"You'll get there. Just not instantly," Toby tried to reassure him. Jim found himself nodding along with him, just like everyone else.

"You have to lay the foundation first and then go up from there. Everything is always like building a house. Without them, you are going to have more weaknesses than anything else." Douxie added simply. It seemed to work, weirdly enough.

Steve recovered almost immediately after that, so much so that he got into a defensive stance. The sword was no longer swinging forward, no longer held just to hold it, but giving it balance.

"One more time, Lake!" He asserted with determination. Thankfully, not screaming anymore. 

"Okay, but this time keep an eye on how I move, and don't attack blindly," Jim said, preparing himself in response, launching one last look to the two Wizards before properly giving attention to the blond.

"Well, we'll see you later, anyway," Claire commented, just before both she and Merlin's Apprentice disappeared back into the Portal.

********

"You didn't have to follow me," Douxie commented, looking at Claire with a puzzled expression as he descended the stairs, shining a light with a small blue ball—because they were passing through a part of the castle that was rather dark and, in all honesty, there was something eerie about it for Claire—while his other hand was dipped into Archie's fur, perched on his shoulder. "I just need to ask Nemain a few questions and a little more."

"I know," she replied after biting her lower lip, her voice partly flat. She was slightly behind him and her gaze saw little beyond the boy's back. "But I don't trust her," Claire made an irritated grimace. "I know she has the magic collar on, but I'd like to keep an eye on her. In all honesty, I don't even trust her to just let her go after the questioning."

"That makes three of us, then," Archie quipped in response, sniffing the air. His ears were tense, while his eyes—like those of his Wizard, which was rather strange for her to see, especially counting that in previous nights she had never noticed that fact—appeared to glow in the dark, resembling small beacons. 

"So what's next?" She asked, feeling in a part of herself that she was sounding perhaps insistent, but not giving a damn about it and barely quickening her pace at seeing how Douxie had picked up speed on his way down the steps. "Do we allow her to do what she wants? To go back to her Lair as if nothing had happened, with the risk of her coming back with reinforcements?"

"Definitely not," was Archibald's reply, waving his tail intermittently. "That would be stupid of us. Especially counting the trouble she has already brought to us."

Douxie agreed with him with a simple "Yeah." at first. Then. "That's why we've already formulated a plan," he added after a couple of seconds of silence.

'A plan? What kind?'

Before Claire could go back to asking questions, the dragon—who had been licking his paw but abruptly stopped—stared at her. 

"...We'll talk later," Archie said, almost in a whisper. "Better to avoid being overheard.''

Claire let slip an intrigued expression but decided to follow the advice anyway, not asking more questions. 

Hisirdoux, at that exact moment, stopped between the steps abruptly. This caused her to slow down drastically in turn, but she ended up crashing into him anyway.

"Uh... Sorry," she told him.

"No, my bad," he replied, turning his head in her direction, flashing a slightly pulled smile, his brow furrowed and his nose wrinkled. "Habits."

She found herself responding with a simple nod, looking at him with confusion, especially at seeing him immediately start to walk away again, something bizarre immediately taking the place of his previous expression. 

There was something... strange about him? He seemed much more distant than before. His shoulders were all hunched and there was something stiff about the way he stood. Even his gaze seemed cold, much harder, and more detached. But Claire didn't know if she was seeing him in this way or if it was just her impression, mostly due to the tension oppressing her, which had gradually increased on the way down. 

Partly she would have liked to ask him if he was all right, if there was something she had done that had bothered him, or if it was something else. 

' Maybe it's always about the first attempt at the Portals?... ' She couldn't help but wonder to herself, remembering the utterly terrified look on his face. Then she cast another glance at him and saw him waving his hand with the ball of light right and left, illuminating the last few flights of stairs present before the start of the dungeons. The last sentence said by Archie, though, came back to her mind and prompted her to be silent, even if a slight feeling of worry began to sail through her stomach.

She had not meant to destabilize him so much. But even apologizing again would probably lead them to argue to take the blame away from each other, just like they already did before. So she forced herself to bite her lip and banish the guilt from her mind.

They, therefore, resumed walking down the steps at a brisk pace, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the silence. 

Claire would have been lying to say that seeing the empty cells—some of them with visible stains of dried blood painting the metal and stone—did not make her feel anxiety and chills down her spine. 

She did not understand precisely why. It wasn't as terrifying as a place, and yet… the same instinct that had suggested to her that morning that Douxie and Archie were in danger, well, told her it would be best to turn in her heels and leave. But she didn't. She kept going, moving forward with slight uncertainty and her heart in her throat, but taking repeated deep breaths.

' Trying to analyze emotion to exploit it or keep it under control, in this case, seems impossible. I cannot find the precise reasons for why I feel it and I cannot hold it. The only solution is to have courage, go ahead and...'

"Casperan," jumped up Nemain's voice suddenly. It had a scornful tone and it barely echoed, snatching an involuntary gasp from her before she recomposed herself as quickly as possible. "Unpleasant to see you again so soon...''

Claire searched for the witch's figure among the various areas of the dungeon, finding the woman in the central one. It was like a cage, trapped in a single, unique metal column, not particularly wide, with a visible distance from all the actual cells and the other cages that hung from the ceiling.

Nemain lay slumped over herself, her chained arms dangling between the bars, her wrists managing to peek out, but barely. The witch's expression was visibly disgusted but still tired, it seemed. She was strangely pale and her neck showed purple and even blackish veins from where there was contact with the collar. 

Douxie, Archie, and Claire stood in front of her without a word, looking down at her. Or at least initially, because then the boy bent down on his knees to be at the same height as her, staring deeply into her eyes.

"It's no pleasure for me either, I assure you,'' he said in a flat voice, then looking up in Claire's direction, who immediately started to unbuckle the bag from her belt. The same bag where there were the precious stones. "But I guess we'll both have to make do at the moment.''

Douxie barely had time to finish the sentence before Nemain spat in his face. A disgusting mixture of saliva and blood hit his nose and mouth. 

"May the executioner cut off your head,'' she said, sneering.

Archie growled, something hoarse and dangerous. Claire felt her anger rise instantly, mixed with utter abhorrence. She looked at her ruefully, a single "Hey!'' escaping her mouth, to which the Bones Witch simply grinned more, making an ironic bow with her head. She was teasing her. In the worst way possible, too. 

Claire forced herself to take a couple of deep breaths, to at least try to keep her composure.

' She's having fun at your expense. Don't give her what she wants ,' she thought, clenching her lips. But still glaring daggers at her. 

Hisirdoux, in showing indifference, was amazing. He merely brushed his face with one of his hands, then tried to remove the spit permanently with his sleeve, not changing his expression. Not even a little bit. "Your curse cannot work if you have no magic with which to accompany it,'' he said.

From the Witch's triumphant expression, she didn't give a damn.

''All right...'' Douxie asserted with a slight sigh, ''Better to avoid wasting time unnecessarily.''

Claire hurriedly pulled out the three Lapis lazuli, extending them to Douxie. He grabbed them, nodding to her as if to say a silent thank you , immediately returning to the woman, whose gaze seemed to be trying to incinerate the boy alive. Claire's, vis-à-vis Nemain, was not exactly to be outdone, though it was more controlled. Or, at least, she was trying to keep it more controlled, but she doubted she was doing a good job.

Douxie laid the gemstones on the ground, one after the other. One on the left, one on the right, and one exactly in the middle.

Following this, he made white chalk appear from the bracelet and started to draw with it a perfect circle in shape, which he interrupted at three other points, at the perfect interstellar distance between the stones, with runes. He then drew around it what looked like some kind of strange inverted triangular hourglass, with an ‘x’ on the extreme left side and the right side a simple mark... and then a star, intersecting at some points with the previous drawing, making a second circle, this time complete, to close it all up again 

"Ansuz. Perthro. Jera,'' he murmured once he had finished, making the Lapis lazuli glow until they shined with bioluminescence that also started to trace the chalk itself, leaving Claire to watch the whole thing with an incredulous expression. 

She had no idea what he had done, nor what the hell the words he had said meant, but seeing the whole process had been impressive. And the confidence with which he had done it all without a word had been even more so.

"Really?" Exclaimed Nemain, bursting into a sour laugh as Douxie got to his feet again, returning to his original position. "You want to make me talk with such cowardly methods?

"Not cowardly. Smart ones,'' he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I have no interest in taking unnecessary risks with you. Not when I have better things to do.''

Anger returned to take space in the expression of the witch, whose laughter stopped rather drastically. "Oh, yes. You have better things to do. You're great at wagging your tail behind your Master, huh? Your constant need for approval, for scraps of praises from him, when...''

"How did you get into the castle of Camelot?" Douxie interrupted her, going to cross his arms. The Lapis lazuli and drawn runes emitted a spark, similar to a firework.

Nemain stiffened suddenly and barely gasped, then she violently struck her legs with her elbows. Her expression was shot through with a twinge of distress that she went to cover with a sour smile. "Who knows... fuck you , Casperan.''

Hisirdoux's face seemed to paint itself in a hinted grimace, almost out of involuntary empathy towards the pain… or perhaps out of annoyance. It was unclear. Then he recovered and wrinkled his nose, casting a glance at Archie and running his hand over the rune bracelet, making a lasso appear, which pulled Nemain’s upper limbs away from her lower ones, even going so far as to bind her fingers.

"How did you get into Camelot?" He asked again. The circle again shone almost aggressively, proving blinding. 

Nemain tried to resist the question again, so much so that the bones in her jaw popped with something creepy as her head bent to the right at a speed that was almost a miracle she had not given herself a stiff neck on her own. 

But she ended up speaking. "Made... breach.'' 

"How, and where?

The witch made a frustrated expression. Although bound, she tried to throw a kick at the metal of the cell. She failed, as a second lasso appeared to better restrain her legs as well. 

"I absorbed... energy from the barrier at the highest part of the axis.''

'... The geometry of the sphere ?" Claire thought, not even being that shocked, especially in her return to lower her gaze in the direction of the pattern drawn on the ground.

"But the barrier, of itself, did not break. Right?"

"...No. It closed again after we passed by."

"You and the Chimeras."

"Yes," she gritted her teeth. 

"Nobody else's?" He inquired, still suspicious. 

"No."

"And you fell back on the keep," he observed dryly. "Where you immediately attacked Sir Galahad, throwing him into a hallucination.''

Nemain barely sneered at that comment, starting to speak more casually. "Not that it was difficult. He had been too busy looking ahead. He didn't even think to look over his head. That fucking drunkard.''

Hisirdoux wrinkled his nose. "I see your language is as colorful as ever.'' 

"I see yours is always as chaste and innocent as a child's. You still use that stupid ass Baptist cuss word. Are you afraid of getting your tongue dirty?''

He ignored her. "That was just a normal hallucination you gave him, right?" 

"Yes. It didn't do me any good to go overboard with him, especially ‘cause entering his head would have given me a fuckin’ hangover.’’ She raised her head. “Why? Are you worried for him? Did you wag your tail at him, too? Oh, such a good little puppy, aren’t ya? What, you're going to suck him off next? Spread your legs or something if he asks , just to get attention?" 

Claire couldn't help but cringe at the last comments. Douxie showed a slightly annoyed look.

Only silence was heard for a couple of moments. Then Hisirdoux resumed speaking. "Do you know anything about an old knight of Camelot wearing green armor?" 

"...That womanizer idiot of Sir Bertilak? The one who got himself beheaded for going against Arthur's wishes?" Nemain let slip an annoyed snort. She had an air that was a mixture of bored and disgusted. 

Douxie arched his eyebrow and wrinkled his nose as if silently assessing. "No, it's not him," he said, rolling his eyes. "Another one?"

"Huh. And what do you want me to know? I never gave a fuck about Knights of the Round Table. They were all great pieces of shit and only a couple stood out for their weakness and dullness. The king himself for one."

"You're not wrong. But we might as well give it a try." He asserted in a low voice, catching Claire totally off guard.

' Were they really that awful? ’ She asked herself, blinking a few times and curbing her tongue to avoid interrupting. She wasn't sure if her speaking would risk damaging the spell. As long as Archibald did not speak, neither would she. 

"Rather, you said you had a photographic memory. How is it that you ask me, oh poor creature , about a question you should already be aware of?" The sarcasm was more than evident in her tone of voice. Just like the venom dripping from it.

The raven-haired boy smiled at her, expressively showing just as much sarcasm. "You should thank me, I'm helping you get your minds in gear. They must be pretty dusty," a chuckle and a pause. "Are you aware of what the Arcane Order wants to do?" 

"Destroy all of humanity?" Nemain assumed a proud expression, her storm-gray gaze gleaming with more than obvious triumph. 

" Wrong, " blurted Douxie in retort, shrugging his shoulders casually. "Their goal is to destroy the whole world. Magical creatures included. Destroy and then rebuild ."

Nemain assumed something suddenly perplexed, then recoiled. "...Oh, yeah. It's true," she made a grimace in which she showed all her teeth, thinning her gaze. "I'm talking to you, after all, Silver Tongue . You're a really good liar, my compliments."

"Not a lie… but believe what you want. I'm not going to try to convince you to listen to me. I just wanted to know." There was another moment of silence, quite long, in which Claire wondered if he had finished asking questions, but then resumed as if nothing had happened. "About the Sealed Emblem, you had with you...'' 

Claire found herself widening her eyes at this change of speech. So did Nemain, who moreover went rigid again, paralyzed on the spot, betraying all her shock as her gaze then went to wander over her cape. 

"...What exactly does it take to unlock it?''

Nemain gnashed her teeth like an animal, starting to flail around, albeit with difficulty. She tried repeatedly to free her fingers from the lasso's grip… or perhaps to succeed in hurting herself enough with the pressure of it on her skin. Enough to block Lapis lazuli's influence. And failing. 

"A password," she asserted, in fact, after a while. All through clenched teeth, while looking back at Douxie with a murderous air, to say the least. "You don't deserve to know it, you should have died in the most excruciating and painful way. You should not even have been born! More than sure your parents regretted bringing you into the world, you filthy piece of shit.''

Archie, on his Wizard's shoulder, reared back all his fur and started both hissing and gutturally growling at the same time. Claire, on the other hand, sensed her rage and irritation rising under the skin. Part of her wished she could retort in some way to shut her up, not caring in the slightest about the effect of her voice on the situation—if there was an effect at all, counting just the noises coming out of the Dragon—but she didn't have time to open her mouth that Douxie's voice came jumping back up. 

"Which one?" He asked, almost without blinking. As if the death threats and insults did not have the slightest effect on him. Or at least, not on the surface . 

Nemain did not respond at all this time. She even went to bite her mouth, splitting the flesh with her teeth. Blood began to trickle down her chin, flowing in the direction of her neck. 

"Which one?" Douxie repeated, not moving an inch, but making the Lapis shine even more than they had before. 

Various grimaces began to cross the Bones Witch's face, gradually growing angrier and angrier, but her teeth continued to remain planted in her skin, increasing the flow of blood. Her gaze, after a while, became defiant. Almost as if she was saying to even try to ask again. Claire would not have been surprised if she even went so far as to bite her tongue to keep herself from revealing more. 

Hisirdoux seemed to get the same message. Or perhaps he simply gave up. "All right, never mind," he asserted in a strangely calm tone, then began to run his fingers through the runes on the bracelet. "I'll try another way to find out. Whether you want it or not. I even already know how." 

Claire widened her eyes. ' Really? He does? Or is he acting again?’  

Nemain seemed to want to retort in some way for a moment, but her teeth did not pull away from the flesh even a millimeter, her eyes focused on Douxie with blatant disdain. 

The two lassoes disappeared into thin air. So did the light shining through the stones and chalk marks. Heavy darkness seemed to fall, interrupted only by the blue of the bracelet runes—which seemed almost to flash in the darkness—and by the eyes of Archie and Douxie. 

"Interminus nocti sluumberso," Hisirdoux said, then causing another beam of blue light to appear, which this time cast itself entirely upon the Witch. 

Nemain fell asleep instantly. Her features showed anger even in her sleep. 

Douxie remained to stare at her in total silence, his expression unreadable. Archie rubbed against his neck, a fact that led him to return to give him a few strokes in the fur before sighing, bending down, and retrieving the Lapis lazuli. Once he finished, he extended the gemstones to Claire without even looking her in the eyes, his expression serious, including his wrinkled nose.

"Pardon me. I didn't ask if you had anything to question her, too," he said once she put them back into the bag. 

Surprise crossed her from head to toe. "I...I didn't have any," she found herself saying, then biting the inside of her cheek. "Or at least, mine would have been only moral-related questions... But I'm not sure if I would have wanted an answer," a pause, in the process of which he simply nodded. 

A pause in which concern got the better of Claire. "...Are you okay?" She questioned softly.

Hisirdoux looked up sharply, going to match her own for a few moments, all before barely smiling and shrugging his shoulders "Yes. It's no big deal. Talking to Nemain drains my batteries more than I'd like. That's all." 

Claire was not convinced by his answer. Not even a little.

'Why does something tell me he's like Jim on this side? ’ she found herself thinking, biting the inside of her cheek in mild frustration. 

And then she realized that she had done something similar with the matter of Morgana, a thought that caught her off guard. She had hidden her fear, thinking that they had not had the time to waste behind something so futile. She could not help but wonder if it was the same for both of them. 

"We need to take her up to Merlin now," asserted Archie instead, more in her direction than his Wizard's, though he did not take his eyes off him for a second. "And blindfold her."

"Then Master Merlin will erase her memory and we'll leave her down," Douxie added, opening the cell magically. Archibald resumed a second time the appearance of the muscular dark-skinned boy they had seen just that morning, dropping her onto his shoulder without any type of care, causing her to remain upside down.

Claire looked at them both, blinking a few times. "That was the plan?"

'She won't be able to look for us or say anything to her Lair if she doesn't know who we are. ' 

"Yes. Very simple, but effective." The Familiar cast a glance at his Wizard

 "And hopefully we won't see her again for quite a while," Douxie concluded cheerfully.

Claire agreed with him wholeheartedly. She was looking forward to Nemain being gone. 

"Do you know how to get the password for the Emblem?" She questioned. 

He looked slightly embarrassed "...No. Not really," he murmured. "I was just hoping she was gonna act out of rage and talk," a pause, in which he shrugged. "Didn't work out."

She blinked and nodded a little. "Shall I go back and create a Portal, so we can get to the study already?" She found herself asking after a few seconds, looking at the stairs.

"If you feel like it and don't feel tired, I don’t see why not. Just... remember that magic is not a shortcut for hard work,'' another small pause from him. "Aim for the mental image of the front door, not directly at the Studio. But don't stand too close or we risk bumping into it.''

She nodded. And she went back to focusing on her own emotions in silence, raising her arms. The fact that Douxie nodded to her without shifting her pose even a millimeter made her rejoice internally. And she took the opportunity to slowly add it to the emotional whole.

'Feelings. And my anchor. '

********

Douxie was okay. Kinda. Well, alright, not really. 

Seeing Master Merlin erase Nemain's memory by making her drink the potion by force improved his mood, but still… he was not okay. Not the way he wanted to be. Not as he should have been . 

He needed music at maximum volume straight into his ears. Or the guitar—or any musical instrument—in his hands so he could strum it, possibly ending up screaming at the top of his lungs until he had no breath or time to think. 

He couldn't shut up the chaos. He could not start pulling at his hair until he felt the burning of the skin and only that. He could not even take a pack of cigarettes and smoke them all in a chain, one after the other, so that he could silence everything in the nicotine sensation. He didn't want to relapse, he absolutely could not relapse again, falling back into his addiction—the caffeine one was fine, the smoking one just wasn't. He disliked the impact cigarettes had on him. He hated that he had even ended up dreaming about them more than once. 

He didn't even have them with him, however, although it wouldn't have taken him long to look for them, going down to the ground. A few coins, a magic flame to light them, and he would be back in it again. 

He didn't want that. 

But the stress was under his skin more than before, and the messy wave of unwelcome voices did not diminish. It wasn't his own, it wasn't Archie's—no, Archie would never say such things to him, and anyway, even having resumed perceiving a bit of something from him , they were at such a low volume that they were difficult to pick up unless he made an effort, straining himself. It was like a small buzzing, just like a radio one. Not clear at all—they kept rocking in his head between thoughts. 

One part of Douxie, particularly insistent and extremely exhausted, wanted to ask for isolation. Isolation from everyone, including the voices. Everyone except his Familiar, of course. But that would have been rude, obnoxious, and stupid of him. 

'But when you aren’t stupid? When aren't you an idiot? And you're giving yourself too much credit. You're in the way. If you disappeared for a few hours no one would pay attention to it. ' 

‘No. Wrong. They did,’ he silently replied to himself. 

‘Did they really?’

He wanted disassociation. He wanted it with all of himself. He didn't need loneliness if everything disappeared in one fell swoop, right? It had happened to him so many times before, what was one more to add to the list? Sure, it usually made him uncomfortable as a thing ... However, in this case, it was different. It would help him.

But of course, it didn't work that way. It never came when he wanted it. It was not on command and he could not impose it on himself. 

Doing everything mechanically, finding himself sitting down or standing up, having no idea about what had happened in the meantime always happened when he least expected it. And he never understood one hundred percent when and how it started. Only later did he realize that he had wasted an entire—or more than one—day in total nothingness, coming out with a weariness in his body that made him feel more like a corpse than a real person. 

It was wrong to want that. It was wrong to even hope it would happen to him. This wasn't just an ordinary situation like so many others, he didn't just have to sweep floors, serve couples or any number of customers—many times pain-in-the-ass people but ok, whatever—turn in the bookstore and jot down books on the ledger. 

This whole case could not be solved that way. A total disconnecting meant possible trouble, and inability to react to it properly, only worsening the situation. It would only make him feel more like a hopeless human case than he already was. 

It was this idea that therefore led him to want to keep himself as busy as he could, forcing himself to suppress everything and to print on his face the most plastic 'on service' smile. The fakest of which he was capable. 

'Resist it. It's only something like six hours and a half to the end of the day. And several more to Laos, but not too many. Just resist it. Don't be overly dramatic.'

He started by looking for Sir Galahad, simultaneously going to meet the group of Guardians, who had just finished training. He tried in a way—very gently—to urge Claire to join them and help them back to the public baths, to be on his own to run around the castle, receiving at first some kind of protests, to which he had to reassure them, saying that if he was going to disappear again for more than an hour—which he doubted strongly, but it already happened, so better not to delete the possibility—they would not have any problem to find him this time, thanks to Claire's magic. And then uncertain okay's and puzzled looks. Especially from the Trollhunter, who stared at him without uttering a word. 

'They don't trust you,' whispered one voice of the many in his shifting gaze, preventing Nari—also there, since Merlin precisely would be leaving shortly, even if for a small period—from saying something. Even the smallest comment from her, at that moment, terrified him. He did not know why. 

Maybe it was because he was afraid she would read him too much. Maybe it was because he was afraid that maybe she would pick up something from his Aura. Maybe because, probably, after she read it, she would realize that he was too much of a problem. 

'No one trusts you. Why should they? You've already almost ruined everything, what do you expect? They have already been far too kind to you. If they knew how you almost led them to be blocked on an island...' 

He tried not to show his frustration before turning and disappearing through the corridors. Archie of course was with him, perched on his shoulder. 

He tried not to betray his self-loathing to the Familiar. Tried to not show the disgust present in him for the simple fact that he was trying to see Sir Galahad more for his stupid issues than to know if he was all right. Just the thought turned his stomach—His selfishness bothered him. He was a manipulator. A liar. Loki Laufeyson would have given him a big cheer, probably—so he tried to hide that too.

The plastic expression on his face hid everything quite well, fortunately. That didn't change how much he hated that, too. And how dirty it made him feel. 

'You're already back to lies. Typical. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since you told yourself to avoid them, yet you've already relapsed. What a giant basket case.'

Archie, over his shoulder, kept dumping tail swats on his back. He was just giving him glances as if wanting him to speak, though not forcing him to do so—and appearing unnerved by the fatigue of connection they had at that moment—but Douxie felt very little capable of it. He felt that if he tried, he would only end up being more sarcastic, skeptical, or sour than necessary. And being so would only have made the situation worse. 

'You are so, so toxic,' the voice whispered.

Reaching out to Sir Galahad, intent on eating and drinking with the same calm and cheerful attitude that had always distinguished him—the time was rather odd for a lunch, but, well, it still fits. It could have been much worse— snatched an unexpected sigh of relief from him. It made him feel, strange but true, a little lighter. Not by much, but enough to soften his expression, taking away the masked one. 

'He doesn't seem to have suffered any particular impact from the hallucinations... That’s good,' he thought. 

Douxie did not venture in, however. He peeked around for a few more seconds, hiding before the Knight could look up from the food and beer glass that was resting on the table, perhaps ending up noticing his presence. 

Then he left in complete silence, not knowing exactly whether the whole search had made any real sense if he then didn't dare to go in and seriously ask if the man was all right. Okay, it had not been a long journey to be defined as wasted time. And yes, he had managed after all to get to the information he wanted, even if just by looking. But really, though?

'Are you seriously leaving with your tail between your legs?'  

The answer was yes . He wasn't embarrassed about it. 'It's better like this.'

Silently he tried to assess where to go next, forcing himself to make up his mind. 

Going to check the barrier at the highest part was pointless. Merlin had already announced that he would take care of it after leaving Nemain down. And he didn't want to go back to his old room again, so another rather useless option was removed just as quickly. He kinda wanted to check Nemain's old Chambers, but for what reasons? He would not have found anything useful for the present there. Or he would? He did not know. But, still. Maybe not right now. 

...He could think of nothing else. Or, he could, but it wasn't 'immediate' related stuff. 

"Should we go back to the base room?" Asked Archie after a few nervous steps of his own, punctuated with a backward series and an uncertain look around. The Dragon said it in a voice that was, perhaps, a little irritated, but Douxie didn't know if it was dedicated to his circling around or if it was always to the lack of common perception. A fact that was shared by him. He would have liked to know, too, what Archibald was thinking. It would have been a way to distract himself from his own and to feel what he was on about. 

"It's stopped raining, we could sit in the garden for a while and get some air," Archie added, with something much more reassuring. 

Douxie tightened his lips but gave a small nod. "Okay," he murmured. And he let Archie place himself in his arms, holding him close to himself—both of them hoping it would help at least a little. It usually took much less—listening to his soft purring. It made him feel a lot better, as it did most of the time. 

He really couldn't think of anything better to do apart from reading, but he doubted that he would be able to focus. So… 

' Wait… Shenyang is the next destination?'

Yes. It was. It bloody was! How he didn't think about that sooner when he even talked and thought about them?! Fuzz him, he was dumb. 

He just needed to go to the center of the city to meet the Nest! And… And… He really should have not. 

'I should try not to get into messes, possibly,' he thought, stopping himself from letting his mind go haywire and almost facepalming, not being able to. ' Fuzz me. I already gave everyone too many problems. This could be another one if I try to follow it.'

He bit his lower lip. He did not want to mess up things again. But… 

'Still… If I don't do it right now, wouldn't that mean that it already could get so much worse?'

If Bastian's name and his relationship with the other Clans still were as good as he had said before, well, maybe he could have played it right. If it wasn't… Douxie would have called himself dead already. Or almost dead, anyway. Blast it. 

“Arch…” he said, making the Dragon raise his head a bit, still purring. “I think I want to try something later. If I can… I want to know if it makes sense.”

Archibald looked at him, tilting his head. He remained silent for a bit. “I don’t like the look in your eyes,” he said at last. “But tell me anyway.”

********

It didn't take long before Douxie and Archie hurried back, bringing Jim, Claire Nari, and Blinky, who were already in the room, to watch them silently, looking quite confused. Steve, Toby, and Aaarrrgh were still at the public baths, the Troll waiting for the two boys. 

A few of them had already been put out by the suddenly jumpy way of acting of the boy—to which Claire had, without details, tried to give a hypothetical explanation, talking about the conversation with Nemain, and adding shortly about the first Portal she had made—but right there, right then, it was already different. He had a different look and he appeared almost frantic, but for other reasons.

The Wizard was fiddling with the rune bracelet and seemed to have his head elsewhere, while the Familiar looked up at him with an expression that seemed to have something strange in it, too. 

"I don't like it," Archie said in a dry, almost sour tone, sniffing and waving his tail. 

"I understood that part," retorted Douxie, almost ironically, taking his gaze off the bracelet to observe the Dragon. "But do you see any other ways? I can't think of any."

"It doesn't change that I don't like it as a thing," he retorted piquantly, leading the boy to sigh and roll his eyes. 

"You say it like I want to do it for fun," Douxie blurted out, looking skeptical, before slamming his hand—the one whose arm wasn't busy holding Archie—against his face. 

"No. I say that because your ability to get into trouble only seems to increase as the centuries go by."

The boy appeared offended. "That doesn't seem to be the case! And it is the trouble that seeks me out,” the Dragon looked at him, definitely not convinced. “...For the most part,” Douxie added, conceding it, before raising an eyebrow, still moving around. “And I don't recall you ever particularly complaining about my life choices. You vibe at them most of the time."

"Don't confuse my not complaining with being utterly fine with them. Especially when you want to throw yourself at crazily dangerous stuff."

"Oh, please ..."

"What are you talking about?" Suddenly intervened Jim, blocking Douxie before he could continue with the series of repartee that was not giving clarity at all on the main topic of the discussion. Even stopping him in place.

The two looked at each other as if they had only then realized their presence in the room. Then Hisirdoux tightened his lips and facepalmed again as Archie moved from his arm and climbed onto his shoulder. 

"Douxie wants to go down to Shenyang," Archibald said. "To meet a Vampire Clan."

Chapter Text

TRACK 13

I don't think you understand

There's nowhere left to turn

Walls keep breaking

Time is like a leaf in the wind

Either it's time well spent

Or time I've wasted

(Telescope- Cage the Elephant) 

********

"...What?" Jim asked, quite shocked by the news. For a moment the Trollhunter could do nothing but stare at him in puzzlement. "Why?"

"For general precautions," merely replied Douxie, a decidedly unclear answer to which he bit his lower lip after a short time. "They're not bad. They are just a bit snobby, most of the time."

Archibald made a sour noise, "The kind of snobs that, in case of being humiliated or feeling disgraced, well, there's a chance they'll rip your head off. But, yeah, just that."

Jim stiffened, opening his eyes wide as an icy chill ran down his spine. 

"Which is why I'm going to do everything I can to avoid upsetting them," retorted Hisirdoux, returning to the rune bracelet. "We waltz in the Nest, discuss properly, and then waltz out. All as politely as possible..."

"What kind of precautions?" Asked Nari instead. This before suddenly smiling, letting out a silvery high-pitched laugh, snatching confused expressions from everyone. "It has something to do with the Sealed Emblem, doesn't it?"

Douxie froze in place and stared at her in total silence, the expression of someone who had been caught in the act. Then he barely sighed and chuckled in return, bringing a hand to his neck. "... Yeah . Guilty of that," he admitted. "For the Emblem, Nemain's Lair, and everything connected with it... And yes, there are more pressing commitments, but... I'd like to avoid even that one becoming worse than it already is. Cutting a problem almost at its roots wouldn't be so bad, for once. And finding allies would do just as well."

"But why from Vampires?" Claire asked with puzzlement. "If there are so many other creatures, why go to them at all?"

"Especially if, precisely, they are ready to tear your head off for so little," Jim added with a blatant grimace.

"Well... we know that they would not so easily ally themselves with a community that intends to kill all of humanity," replied Archibald simply. "They are Vampires. Logically speaking , fewer humans equals fewer blood bags that can be found in hospitals as survival resources. They appreciate the blood of animals, Mages, and some other magical creatures, but still, it would mean more effort in hunting,” a pause. “Emotionally speaking , some Vampires are still connected to the past human side. Especially among those in Nests, there are rules they cannot abstain from. The traveling ones, often feral, are a different matter, but yeah, they are not the ones we are aiming for."

"Most Mages, at the moment, cannot be trusted," Hisirdoux’s face darkened, but then he shook his head. "And even the ones I do trust, well, they're too far away to request their help face to face," a pause. "And okay, by phone it would be possible. And I could try giving it a shot, but..." he shrugged. "There would still be three, maybe four from Arcadia Oaks, one of which is busy in Greece at the moment... Two from Colombia, one from Japan, and one from England. Eight Wizards total."

"Few if you count the army they are forming," Claire ended by saying in a half-voice in a troubled tone, causing Douxie to nod. 

Jim narrowed his eyes. The mental image of a huge army of magical creatures pouncing on a small group of twenty or so sparse members led him to chase away some of his perplexity towards the subject of Vampires. Just part of it. The idea of having someone around who, just out of irritation, could kill you out of the blue… was quite unpleasant. 

As creatures in horror movies, he had never liked them. To make matters worse, the idea of bleeding to death was terrifying in his eyes. Not as much as being taken away by a Stalkling again or by drowning, at this point, but still.  

"I'll try anyway, but all in all the chance of someone seriously accepting is rather low. Which is pretty normal, all things considered, but you never know. At least I am sure that those wouldn't take the opposite side," another pause, albeit rather brief. "Among the other creatures, there could perhaps be other options... But I would have almost nothing as a guarantee to be held to account by them, except for some nicknames and a little more. The Vampires won’t even necessarily do that, let alone the others," he waved his hand as if trying to shoo away an annoying fly. "But Archie and I will go down quickly, catch up with the Clan, and… whatever. End of the story, at least for a while."

"No, wait," intervened Jim, as if awakening out of the blue, the mental image shattering, catching the meaning of the last sentence albeit with a slight delay, as shock took hold of him again. "Are you going there alone?"

"...Yes?" Douxie looked back at him with an arched eyebrow. "It will take a couple of hours at most if there are no setbacks."

Jim could not hold back a contrite expression, feeling a sudden frustration flare inside him. He did not even try to hide it, making his opinion toward the choice obvious, while an upset mood continued to stir in him. He did not know exactly what was feeding it. He only knew that it was there and he drastically rejected Douxie’s idea, seeing it as extremely wrong. 

…Or, maybe, he did know. He didn’t want to make the same mistake as that morning . He really didn’t. 

The look he gave him was received loud and clear, as immediately Douxie showed an even more confused expression than before. 

"You can't go alone!" Jumped in Claire almost instantly, before Jim could comment something akin to a ' no way .' "Something could go wrong."

"What..." Douxie raised his hands in front of him and took a step back. "Look. I know their usual kind of attitude. And I already have garlic, rice, some ash stakes, and hawthorn. I don’t have the rosehips and the vervain, but I would say the ones I named previously are enough to defend myself. And Archie is with me," he said, letting a sigh escape. He then repeatedly passed his gaze over both of them. "This kind of thing is nothing new for us. And you already have enough to worry about. Adding problems to your list is not something I should be doing."

"You're adding them to yourself, though," Claire found herself saying with a furrowed brow, crossing her arms. She, too, was showing a lot of disapproval. 

"Yes, that's true. But it's not a new thing there either. It's habitual multitasking."

"We can defend ourselves if that's the problem," Jim intervened in a dry tone, the words slipping from his mouth without any kind of brake. They had been so instinctive that they almost caught him off guard. He forced himself to take a couple of breaths to calm down a little. 

"I'm not questioning that. Not at all," retorted Hisirdoux with something serious in his tone of voice and at the same time seemingly concerned in his expression. "That's not the point."

"Then what is?" 

The raven-haired boy brought two fingers to the bridge of his nose. "It's pretty simple... I mean, if you were to go against every little issue that I go and dredge up out of the blue that doesn't have a damn thing to do with the main mission, you're just going to end up wasting precious time and energy. This is not something you should do. Nari is more important and the Arcane Order is more dangerous than anyone else. Vampires and me wanting to meet them? Nothing you should waste your rest hours for."

"He's saying that you shouldn't follow his example," commented Archie, shifting his glasses up with his paw. "The typical philosophy of if one jumps down a cliff, you don't have to do that too, " a moment of silence. "In all honesty, though, I don't appreciate the idea of going into the Nest either. Not all the leaders are like Bastian, you know. And being there, just the two of us... might be more harmful than being, perhaps, five."

Douxie looked at him crookedly. "Don't start that again, I beg of you," a pause in which he raised an eyebrow. "Besides, you're supposed to be on my side!"

"I am and always will be," Archibald asserted firmly. He rubbed against his neck, already removing the slight irritation from Douxie's gaze, which softened. He went to scratch behind his ears affectionately. "But exactly because I am, I would be also glad if you would avoid putting yourself in uncomfortable positions, especially against such fickle creatures." 

The boy said nothing to this sentence, continuing to run his fingers through his fur. The reason why the Dragon resumed speaking almost immediately before anyone else could. 

"And remember that I have been instructed to stop you if you come up with potentially nonsense hazardous plans."

"Nope. No, I didn't hear that. You just did not.” Hisirdoux said with something like exasperation in his tone, rolling his eyes. Jim could imagine him—just by looking at his expression—raising his arms and covering both his ears, shouting ‘ la-la-la-la’ like a kid. “It’s not funny.”

Archie kind of smirked at him. “It is.”

Douxie huffed. “In that case, anyway ... Both of you know that you should bind and gag me to stop me. I’m gonna run like hell." He stopped stroking him, lowering his arm. "Still, this is not a nonsense one. And I don't think it would end that badly... We've gone through much worse..." 

"If you mean the damn Leviathan, that doesn't count. We didn't have any problems at that time."

"What in the world is a Leviathan?" Jim questioned. And stopped himself by asking which problems they had, too, assuming that he meant the whole 'Arcane Order threat'. 

"A Leviathan is a Sea monster," Archie answered. "Nothing you would like to meet, I assure you."

"Yeah," Douxie sighed, cringing. "...I bloody agree."

"Let us help you," Claire returned to insert herself into the conversation, causing Jim to nod in turn quite firmly. "We're already involved anyway, aren't we?" 

Hisirdoux was silent for a couple of seconds. "Yes, but..."

Nari suddenly approached him, managing to interrupt what he was about to say only with his presence. The half-goddess smiled at him. "I can be your second Guarantee if you need it." 

"What..." Douxie opened and closed his mouth, staring at her as if she had slapped him. "But you shouldn't…"

"Yes. I shouldn't leave Camelot for everyone's safety. But you don't need me to have it," Nari first tapped two fingers on the fabric of one of his gloves, tearing him a stunned expression. Then after a couple of seconds of silence in which they looked at each other without saying a word, she grasped his hand gently with both of her own. 

"Pars mihi tecum. Sacramentum." She said softly, totally incomprehensible to Jim, but which the Wizard seemed to understand, as he nodded, responding cautiously, almost in a whisper and probably in the same language. It seemed to be Latin, but he wasn't sure. "Pars tui mecum. Approbatio." 

And a bright green light went to illuminate their fingers, climbing over them in fluid movements, going then to focus on the black cloth alone and only. 

When Nari let go of it, over the entire glove was a weird kind of mark that seemed to move on itself, even though it was practically laced to the fabric.

"They will not question your words. And it will increase your impact on them," she asserted, then taking a step back. 

Douxie watched the spell for several more seconds. "I… Thank you," he murmured, almost trying to bow, but stopping halfway before he could do it. 

The half-deity smiled at him even more, appearing radiant. "It's a pity that my localization is only blocked by the barrier. I would have liked to meet some of them again, too," she said after a while, once again catching them all off guard. 

"Have you met any yourself?" Jim asked, every second passing a little less surprised after asking the question. She was a demigoddess after all. Who knew how many creatures she had seen before.

"Several, yes. They are interesting and very intelligent. I don't know how much they have evolved since I last saw them, though."

Hisirdoux looked straight into Nari’s eyes unreadably for several seconds. Then he sighed and laid his gaze on them as well, his nose wrinkled, but only briefly. He returned to Archie and the half-deity fairly quickly. 

"Master Merlin hates them ..." he commented dryly, taking a big breath. "Even just letting him know that I plan to go and meet them... " he grimaced, not completing the sentence. "Let alone if anyone else goes with me. The perfect recipe for disaster,” a pause, with a dark chuckle. “Prepare the coffin.” 

"We simply won't tell him, then," asserted Claire, moving a few steps forward, her arms still crossed. "If he doesn't know, he can't get mad at anyone."

Douxie said nothing to this. He did not make even the slightest sound. Jim almost expected to hear him refuse in short order and have to insist in turn. He was already psychologically prepared to have to do that. 

But he rather started to walk around the perimeter of the room, moving around nervously at a quick pace. He had his hand under his chin and the expression of someone who was thinking hard about something, to the point that Jim almost asked himself how his brain hadn’t already melted. He followed him with his gaze, his brow furrowed, waiting.

"So?" Asked Blinky, for the first time in the whole conversation. He had remained in total silence earlier, listening and watching each of them. His voice was enough to stop the Wizard in his tracks, leading him to interrupt his restless comings and goings. "What would be the decision made, Mister Casperan?" 

It was strange to Jim that he was calling him by his last name, with 'Mister' in front of it. It seemed like the wrong term. One to be given to an adult, not to him. Like Mister Strickler or Señor Uhl.

'But he is an adult,' he found himself thinking, almost surprised by the same thought. 'He hardly seems one. Not even by attitude. He seems responsible enough, but not a “centuries-old" kind of adult.'

The raven-haired boy—man? No, it was too weird—let slip first a grimace, going to bite his lip, and then suddenly grinning a bit, utterly shocking him by the unexpected change of expression. "Even if I said no, I doubt anyone would listen to me... So at this point, it's okay, I think," a small pause. "Buckets , you lot are stubborn." 

"Guess we are," Jim said, ending up smiling back at him. By the look on her face, Claire was cheering internally, too. 

"Pot, meet kettle.” Archie quipped to his Wizard—making him roll his eyes— before looking at them. “But you're all going to have to listen carefully to what you don't have to do , or this is going to end very badly rather quickly," he said, his expression almost stern. The kind that refused negative answers of any type. 

"And not every one of you is coming. Someone has to stay in Camelot to increase security and to warn us if anything happens," concluded Douxie. "I understand wanting to help out, but going down and leaving no one behind is insane."

"Agreed." Jim and Claire said it in chorus. Nari simply widened her smile and Blinky nodded.

********

"I have two questions," jumped up Toby, once everyone was back in the room after there was yet another Castle jump, leading Merlin to take Nari away from them. And after that they had waited almost five minutes since his disappearance, to be one hundred percent sure before they properly set about recapping the matter, line by line, already dividing up some of the tasks at hand to be done. "The first one is… Why the rice?" 

"If you give them a bag full of rice, whatever they're doing, they'll stop from doing it and start counting the grains from first to last," Douxie said in a partially absorbed voice, his hands intent on sharpening wooden stakes with a not-so-sharp magical knife. "It's instinct. And part of their nature. They do it even if they don't want to."

"So if they wanted to attack, just throw rice at them to stop them?" Asked Claire incredulously. 

"Yes and no. They are much quicker to count than you would think. And by the time they finish doing that, they might be pissed off to death at whoever used this trick. They’ll feel humiliated... So it's not something I would recommend doing except in a desperate situation."

"Being on their blacklist is not very nice. They can be quite vindictive," Archibald quipped.

“Oh,” Toby chuckled nervously “...Sweet.”

"...Jim, how long for the hawthorn?"

"Almost done, I think," he replied, continuing to mix the juice from the fruit and leaves in one bowl. "It's turning yellow like you said..."

"Good. When it gets completely yellow, just call it," Hisirdoux returned to look at Toby. "The second question?" 

"What do you mean by Guarantee ?" He asked, settling back in his seat a bit better to be fully comfortable. "I can only think of things related to banks." 

"No, definitely not financial insurance related," Douxie smirked, restraining himself from letting out a little laugh. "A Guarantee , in this case, is being a recognized figure, enough to be taken into consideration by the audience you interact with. Doing something, good or bad, that you are remembered for. So that you spread your name around." 

"For Mages, his main Guarantee is being Merlin's Apprentice," Archie rubbed up against him. "But few other creatures may actually care about it as a fact, counting that he is not Merlin Ambrosius himself."

“Well, thank God,” Claire murmured—Almost no one heard her, as her voice was covered by the blond boy immediately after.

"You mean, having it is like being a VIP?" Steve intervened, leading Douxie to arch an eyebrow and stop sharpening his stakes for a couple of seconds. He would never have called it that before, but indeed it was, somehow. Someone with a Guarantee was an important being in the eyes of a species. As a threat or as an ally, even if they had never met properly. 

"You could say that, yes," Hisirdoux resumed his work. 

"I want to have a Guarantee too, then!" Steve said, enthusiastic to say the least. "VIP Steve, the legendary Creepslayer!"

"Being known by other magical creatures can be both a blessing and a curse," commented his Familiar, waving his tail and sniffing, rubbing against him again, and then going to perch on his crossed legs. 

"In this case, we hope it's a blessing," asserted Douxie in reply, placing the twelfth sharpened stake on the table, stroking Archie under the chin, snatching purrs from him, and shortly thereafter making another piece of wood appear in his hands just like he had with the others, using the bracelet storage. A tune played softly in the background. He started to work on the wood rather quickly. "It should be, at least," he muttered. 

"What did you do to become known among the Vampires?" asked Claire curiously, then returning to the partially minced garlic. 

"... I helped Bastian Kühn, a leader of one of the Nests. He’s kinda famous among them. That's all," he shrugged. "We helped each other, to tell the truth. The story is... quite long." A very short pause. He immediately tried to block out the series of questions about the details that would possibly arise. "Briefly said, we both decided to fight against someone who needed to be knocked down a few pegs. And Archie and I lived with his Clan for almost a decade."

He didn't want to go into specifics. He did not want to deal openly with who they had bothered and why the two of them had met, exactly. Or in the second case, he would have to deal with the rest as well, and the questions would have moved more and more dangerously. They would have headed more and more in Nique 's direction. He did not want to think about him. Not again. 

'It was all your fault, ' the little voice whispered in his ear. This snatched a grimace from him. They had fallen silent for a while with the new goal to accomplish, but they had not disappeared. Touching specific events would only bring them all back with overbearingness. 

"And didn't you feel in danger living among them?"

"Sometimes, but not even that much. Being Bastian's friends, everyone was kind enough with us. Some because they were, some because they didn’t want to make him angry. Of course, there were a few exceptions to the rule, but... No big deal."

A smile came to his face as he recalled evenings spent sitting in the room behind the library hall in Vienna's Nest, a stack of volumes between his legs and a single book in his arms. 

There he had peppered Bastian with endless questions. He had asked him so many things about his species and the past, the distant relationship they had had with the Wizards, even though it had not lasted, it seemed... And the Nest Chief had not been bothered by it. He had responded to everything. 

He had offered him and Archie food. A safe dwelling. Protection from members of his Clan even… And from the outside world. The knowledge needed to live in peace with them. A shoulder to cry on in hard times, though he had never allowed himself to open up to him completely. 

Not a friend-with-benefits, though Bastian knew a lot about him and accepted it, a fact that was not taken for granted by Douxie. Never a friend-with-benefits, not even on the coldest nights of his life. Not even when the emptiness had set in, oppressive to the point of making it difficult for him to avoid agonizing between the blankets in a sea of sweat, panic assailing him, and the urge to scream locking between his lips. 

He had always restricted himself to holding Archie close to him, not wanting to be touched in any way by anyone else. Although one or more allusive offers had been there. Bastian had always passed them off as cheap jokes and nothing more, but Douxie had read them differently. It was hard not to with the languid glances he had given him at times. 

Nine years of being there had flown by. Some parts of him had almost wanted to stay, but he had chosen for various reasons not to. Bastian's feelings had been one of them, perhaps the most important. The one that had convinced him completely. Since there had been no cell phones in 1952, he hadn't even had to invent an excuse to avoid staying in touch with him through messages. And they had no telephones either.

' You ran away like a coward. That's the only thing you're capable of, ' whispered the little voice in his head again. 

It wasn't true. It wasn't true at all. It wasn't . He had left to avoid deceiving him. To avoid using him , since he did not feel the same way, but it would have been so easy to throw himself into his arms to accept the reassurance, affection, and attention he offered. He had been important to him and Douxie had not wanted to—he could not, no. He would have hated himself even more if he did—let himself be lulled by such a feeling, hurting him throughout the whole process. 

'You could have sent him letters, at least. It wouldn't be surprising if he hated you for this.'

"It's yellow," said Jim, leading Douxie to stand up. He left the stake on the mattress and looked at the work done with all his attention, putting aside yet another thought. The color of the mixture was right. The consistency, too. The smell was no less.

He found himself nodding quickly, smiling at him. "Perfect. Amazing work. Now let it rest for a moment. The garlic?" 

"Finished chopping," Claire replied, showing the well-cut pieces. 

"Put it in the bag where the hot water is, please."

Claire did as requested. Douxie went back to grabbing the ash wood and finished sharpening that too rather quickly, setting it down immediately afterward. One of the thirteen leaning against the table was grabbed by Steve, who almost started shaking it right and left. A stern expression from Archie and Blinky led him to lean it back on the table, whistling as if nothing had happened. 

"In about ten minutes it should be ready to strain and combine with the hawthorn. Now we have to decide who's coming and…" he looked at his old clothes, rolling his eyes. They did not fit for this occasion. Fuzzbuckets, they truly did not . "Find or create fancy clothes with high necks."

"Fancy clothes?" Jim gave him an incredulous look.

"They're snobs ." Said Archibald in turn, with complete nonchalance. "To go there without making a good first impression even in clothing is gonna end by being looked down upon or rather seen as a way to offend them. Those cloaks are fine, but most of them don't have hoods. Armor is no good, but swords can be kept, although they do nothing unless they are soaked in anti-vampire substances."

"Plus, hair must be in order, possibly lacquered. Etiquette in view. A rune of connection of bodies to be ready to communicate in case of danger..." At the general puzzled expression, he hurried to continue the speech. "I'll explain later what it is before I cast it... " he said, receiving nods. "All the things not to do should be well in mind. And that's how it should go." He shrugged, going to fiddle with the rune bracelet again.

"...Okay," a pause in which Steve seemed to digest it with a rather surprised look printed on his face. "That sounds like a big mess."

"It is," agreed Archibald, getting up, stretching his legs and taking a quick look at the window. It was pitch black outside. The sky in Shenyang was almost dark if not for the moon, but completely cloudless, totally different from what had been there before.

"You have plenty of time to back out if you reconsider," said Hisirdoux, mentally focusing on the old stored comb, making it appear in his hands with a couple of notes in the process, resting it beside him. 

"Not a chance," blurted out Jim, somewhat even more convinced, at the same time that both Claire, Toby, and Steve agreed with him silently, but expressively speaking. This however did not mean that no small comments were showing their rejection of the offer right after.

"... I figured as much. But we might as well point it out anyway. Just in case. So let's quickly decide who's coming and who's not. Then we proceed in what to do," he paused, going back to the search again, causing a small tune and looking for anything that might have paper in it. The old sketchbook landed in his fingers, almost making him hold his breath. 

He gulped, then tore off a few blank pages before kicking it in a second time. He looked around for a feather to smudge in the ink so he could write on it, but Toby handed him a ballpoint pen. He thanked him and almost immediately began to draw a line on the paper that divided it into two columns about halfway down. The whole group went to get closer to him to peek.

"First point, the most important one. Escape ," he said in a half voice, looking at Archie, who nodded, definitely agreeing with him. The others did the same. "Calculating that the possibility of them having anti-magic metals is quite high and that we need to balance the defense in the castle..." he shifted his gaze to Claire. "It would be best for you to stay here with the rune connection." 

Before the girl could retort in any way, he hastened to clarify. "It would only be a partial stay here. In a way, you would jump from one place to another smoothly thanks to your portals, allowing us to leave unscathed." a small pause, in which she nodded, though not entirely convinced, but letting him continue. "If they visualize you right away, there is a risk that they will bring out the anti-magic material. They are already likely to do so after they see me, if there are two of us, we raise the odds sky high."

"And the rune you mentioned..."

"It will warn you if we are in trouble, just as you can warn anyone with the other side of it."

Claire looked at him with a puzzled expression. "How does that work?"

"Basically, you and someone from the group that will be with me in the Nest will have the runes of Body, Union, and Perception drawn on the backs of your hands. They will allow you to share feelings of touch in the area to which the rune extends. Using signals, similar to Morse ones, to say danger or all right should be easy... However, there is no need to worry about them afterward, you will just need to rinse your hands with salt water to remove them."

"Oh." The girl already seemed more convinced, brightening just barely. "All right." 

"Wait… Before properly answering… I doubt it, at this point, but it’s always better to question this…” She looked at him, confused. “Do you have any kind of problems with seeing or shortly feeling blood?… Not your own ," he added, seeing all the Guardians of Arcadia stiffen a bit. "It is I who create the rune and graft the power to give it life to avoid giving up constant energy, so it is I who must offer it,” they still looked at him, though a bit worriedly this time. “A little cut on the finger and we're set.” 

“...No need for great sacrifices or the kind of stuff you see in films?" Steve questioned.

“Nope.” 

‘Not in this kind of enchantment, at least.’

“I have no problem with blood. I’m in,” Claire said, unruffled. He nodded at her, and then he wrote her name in the left column, adding a line with dashes in the direction of the right one.

"Uh… But wouldn't that be a problem with Vampires?" Asked Toby nervously.

"The blood is absorbed by the rune itself, so no. There will be no smell on it," a pause. "Second point... The other side of the connection is someone who can make a definitive judgment about the moving of the situation. There is a possibility that we will be split up in the meeting with the Chief. It would be better not to, but the possibility is there anyway. The second person must be aware of everything that is going on and must consequently have a fairly clear mind and..." 

' And the whole Herds Instinct, possibly… No, it would not work. It's been… What, two days and something? Too little... Maybe another rune, instead, then? Or maybe a magical object. Guess I'll ask first about that, later.' 

He frowned and laid eyes on everyone in the room. "Jim? Is that alright with you?"

He barely made it in time to see his face tinge with surprise as he opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted before he could manage it.

"Come on, no, why Lake? I wanted to do it!" Exclaimed Steve out of the blue, tearing up a sigh from him and causing the others to assume skeptical expressions.

"Really, Steve?" Retorted Claire in exasperation, glaring at the blond. He pouted.

"I wouldn't be so bad," Steve muttered.

"A very, very high emotional connection would help the rune itself," he told him as gently as possible. "Romantically healthy relationships are one of the strongest connections there are, so it would help further." 

He returned to look at Jim. He nodded almost immediately. “I have no problem with blood, either,” he said. And so Douxie wrote his name in the column on the right. 

"So what do I do?" Murmured the blond, partly in a depressed tone.

That was certainly a good question. 

Leaving him at the castle seemed the obvious answer, though... If one stood at full defense, with most of the anti-vampire weapons... Two stood with Claire at the castle... Aaarrrgh's size would have attracted too much attention and he couldn't be sure there was no one around not to notice him—and he had no invisibility potions. The spell, yes, but he would have come out of it with probable momentary physical dysphoria. Using the illusive potion could work, but they couldn't take the shuttle or he'd have to explain the situation to Merlin at least a little, so it was up to Archie to transport them. Aaarrrgh wasn’t light to carry—so it was one of the two, sure as daylight. Although defensively he would have been the best one.

That left Blinky, Toby, and Steve. One of the three had to stay on… But who? The easiest solution would have been the blond. It was too dangerous and he was still budding… But giving him a chance didn't seem unfair, though. If he didn't get any, how could he grow and face demigods with them head-on? 

Douxie’s gaze involuntarily fell on the volume of Red Revelation . He frowned, then he returned to the others. 

"You've got my back along with Archie." Almost everyone looked at him with incredulous expressions, as if he had lost a few marbles—he probably did. It was possible—and Steve himself stared at him open-mouthed, so much so that it looked as if his jaw was about to drop. Douxie simply smiled at the group. "You'll have to drink a lot of garlic and hawthorn, though. And let me do the talking."

Steve gasped, then started to nod rapidly. "Aye aye, sir! The famous Creepslayer Steve Palchuk is at your service! I will not let you down! Woohoo !"

"Are you sure, Douxie?" Asked Claire, almost in a whisper as the blond cheered, her eyebrow arched and concern more than evident. 

"I don't see why not." He shrugged a bit. "It's all already a huge gamble. Even just myself could be the element that blows everything to hell just by breathing or saying the wrong sentences," he lowered his head and arched his eyebrow while staring at the paper. "The hope is that everything goes well enough that there is no need for anyone to seriously have to defend themselves."

"... I could do both if you need me to," said Jim.

Douxie thought about it for a moment but ended up shaking his head. "Better not. My part of the stage is only one-half of what you'll have to follow. Focusing too much, when you have to have a general point of view, would lead you to neglect the rest of the situation. And if they were to split us into two groups, which hopefully won't happen, you would have to be in the middle of the two," a pause. "And then, precisely, I have Archie, who's as good as a tank if you're talking about fighting and being overprotective, so..."

Archibald sniffed, waving his tail. He did not comment, and Douxie still could not read his thoughts properly, but his look said a lot about what he was thinking. He was between being proud and retorting to the 'overprotectiveness' part. 

Jim barely nodded. The Trollhunter after a couple of seconds rolled his eyes and then elbowed Steve, because the blond was continuing to cheer, but being too loud. Hitting him managed to make him go serious again. 

"We don't go there to have fun, you remember that, don't you?" Jim scolded him.

"I know, I know! No need to remind me, Lake."

"Mr. Galadrigal… I would like you to stay in Camelot. Both for the castle itself and to continue the reading of the Red Revelation , if it does not seem improper or offensive to you to ask it. If it is, I apologize in advance. I'd like to hear your views on the matter."

The Troll lowered his head slightly in a soft nod. "No offense taken, Mr. Casperan. I accept the request gladly."

Douxie replied with a slight smile. He then went to jot down all the additions quickly and finally looked up at Toby, who was watching him expectantly. "Toby, position of total defense," he told him. 

"Total defense?" He asked, somewhere between elation and confusion. 

"Yes. You'll have almost the entire set of stakes under your cloak and the vervain bomb that Nari provided. There are more details about that, but I'll explain later."

"Okay. Total defense it is," he replied, his tone of voice appearing almost breathless at the first word. 

'... They're maybe taking it a little too easily,' he thought to himself. But then he partly had to take that back, because Toby's gaze became quite serious only a couple of moments later. 

Douxie then went to address Aaarrrgh, already explaining to him what he had previously thought in its entirety, small details of reasoning included. When he finished, the Troll showed him the same kind and understanding smile he had given him before. "Castle guards," he said. "Aaarrrgh stay with Blinky."

One part of Douxie was soothed by that answer. 

The other, instead, kept wondering why they were listening and following his craziness without the slightest problem. Had it been someone else—other than Archie and a few others—probably they would not have allowed him to do so. That same party had also already begun to regret all the choices he had made. Especially the one where he had agreed to let them come with him. If they had hurt themselves because he couldn't stop having worries, thoughts and all—Because keeping himself occupied was his way of running away from other problems—he definitely would have deserved a lot of insults, a slap, and a head-bashing of the kind that would have made his head spin. 

It would have been so easy to say 'No, look, I've changed my mind. Let's avoid this thing. It's bloody stupid.' But the percentage of his head that wanted to do that was smaller than the paranoid one, who wanted to have a peaceful dialogue with the nicknamed Cold Fury—even though his name gave really little peaceful feeling—to at least try to start fixing things with Nemain's Lair. Or to have more information to do so later… Assuming there had been a follow-up to that whole situation. 

'They don't trust you to go alone and to not mess it up,' the voice jumped up again. ' That's why they are listening to you. No other reason.' 

Douxie still hated his brain.

********

"Ew. The weird garlic and hawthorn thing really sucks."

"Stop complaining, Steve. If no Vampire is going to drain you after trying to bite your throat, it's only because of that," said Claire, waving her hand. And then going back to grabbing the comb, running it through Jim's hair with quick, but still quite gentle gestures. 

"I know, but it doesn't change that it really sucks! " The blond's disgusted expression fully testified to that. He even went so far as to stick his tongue out. 

Douxie, though a little tense, ended up snorting at this. It forced him to put down the eyeliner to avoid messing up his makeup.

********

"Try tying his hair up," he commented after staring at Jim's mane for quite a bit, looking then at Claire. "It would look good like that, better than with lacquer, probably."

"Mmmmh, maybe you're right," Claire hummed a little, considering it with a small smile forming on her lips. She unfastened her hair. 

"Huh?" Jim asked, staring at the both like they had grown two heads each.

"Well, they are long enough for that," Douxie added, while Claire started to comb them without thinking twice. "If they were even longer, we could go with a proper ponytail."

"I don't think long hair is my thing," he said, still thinking about it. And trying to imagine it. No. “Pretty sure I’m going to look ridiculous.”

“To be honest, I think you would have the right shape for it. But, well, your hair, your decision.”

“Why do I have a feeling that you had a long hair phase?” Jim commented with an arched eyebrow.

Archie made a choked sound. “He switches from short to medium to long to… very, very long every ten years-ish.”

“Define very, very long,” said Toby, blinking.

“Remember Thranduil from The Hobbit 2 ?”

“Yeah?”

“Just like that... If not even more, twice.” Archie returned to lick his paw.

“Holy-” Jim gaped.

“Do you have a picture?” Claire questioned immediately.

“Nope. And I probably will never get to that length ever again. Do you fuzzin’ know how much time did I need to brush them all? And how heavy and bloody warm they were? Especially during summer jobs.”

“Yeah, but you still love them anyway.”

“It’s a love-hatred relationship.”

********

Hisirdoux took back the magic thin-bladed knife in his hands. Without a second thought, he went to run the tip of it into the fingertip of his index finger. Immediately the blood began to slide out, swift and silent.

"May I?" he asked Jim first, dropping his weapon in between and then extending his uninjured hand in his direction. Jim held out his own in return, nodding and resting it on top of it without much thought.

The raven-haired boy immediately started tracing marks with the other, starting at the wrist and going down in the process—not stopping even for a second—on the back of his hand. Marks that Claire could not see well, but she imagined that they would be identical to those she would have later.

Jim, at one point, when Douxie stopped tracing, changed his calm demeanor with a dumbfounded expression, repeatedly passing his gaze from the rune to the Wizard. "What in the...?"

"That's the magical energy in my blood," Hisirdoux shrugged. "It will pinch a little, later, but that's perfectly normal. You will then feel each other's fingers while sending signals, and the annoying sensation is going to fade. The common touch is shared even with ten thousand miles of separation. Already tested it."

"Sounds perfect for long-distance love relationships. You would help many couples in crisis. Ever thought of getting paid for it?" Asked Claire jokingly, slowly approaching and already extending her hand to him.

Douxie blinked a few times. Then he laughed. "I'd get rich, but I'd come close to bleeding out. I don't know how convenient that is for me."

"It isn't. Avoiding it is better," blurted out Archie, fluttering in the air. It took him a short time to change in appearance from a dragon to a large black pegasus. He was not as tall and long as a Shire, but he was bigger than a regular horse. He landed gently on the stone floor, the sound of hooves echoing a little.

"Yes, yes I know and won’t," Hisirdoux said. “Don’t go Mom 101 on me.”

The cat-dragon-horse rolled its eyes. And headbutted him softly.

Douxie petted him with the not bleeding hand. Then reached out to Claire and gently grabbed hers as well, lowering his head. He started tracing again almost immediately.

The first mark looked like a sun. A rhomboid one, by shape, but still a sun. One of several rays which were around it was very long, with two subspecies of C, one mirrored near the other, on both its sides. They were attached and connected by a symbol that resembled a horizontal S. From the low side of the Cs, there was born a curve that closed them, a dash in its center, and a much smaller circle with a dot inside it.

Weirdly, the blood that flowed from Douxie's finger was red, but when it went to rest on her skin, well, it turned a pale blue. And not only that. After a while, it gave the same sensation as liquid candle wax.

When he finished, Claire sensed how a rush of heat went through the entire rune, leaving her equally surprised. And soon after, as if something was climbing all over her hand, going down and up again. It was bizarre, but pleasant at the same time. The whole concept of the rune was extremely reassuring, to tell the truth, even though it appeared rather strange to look at.

Douxie glanced first at her and then at Jim. "...Okay," he said. "It should work, I would say. Wait for a tick before you try it, just to be sure."

By the time he said that the cut on his finger had closed up, disappearing into thin air. Only the blood remained, barely staining his skin.

Chapter Text

TRACK 14

They told you, fix your broken heart

You have no home

Get up kid, tell yourself the truth or you'll regret it

Oh, it can only get better

(From a Cage - Envoi)

********

Shenyang was a cluster of neon lights and incomprehensible signs. 

Even at 3 a.m., the streets were not empty, quite the contrary. Cars kept passing by and more than a couple of people—not counting their little group, of course—continued to zigzag in his field of vision.

Jim tightened his hood, pulling it down slightly, not so much as to prevent himself from seeing or even to the point of being suspicious—not that he needed to. All the people passing by were either staring at their phones or looking straight ahead, moving forward in a hurry. And mostly he was on a trajectory that allowed him to be unseen, hidden by the figures of the other three boys and the Familiar who appeared human-looking again. Douxie and Archie were in front. Toby, he and Steve immediately behind. Jim was in the center so that he was covered from all fronts except for his shoulders.—But that didn't change his main instinct, it didn't change in the least the feeling of tension that enveloped his stomach as he passed almost side by side with unfamiliar people who, if they even turned their faces away, might have peeked between them and noticed something odd about him. Like the rather bizarre shape of his hood, due to the horns. 

Jim had not taken the illusory potion. Douxie had said that he would appear differently for twenty-four hours and… well, that meant appearing differently in Merlin's eyes, too, when they eventually returned to Camelot. And that would have meant having to give him a minimum of explanations. Explanations that he doubted would end with a simple 'okay' and to proceed on the main mission with ease. No. Definitely not. The old Sorcerer never just ended a situation lightly. It did not seem to be in his DNA.

Despite the mild general concern, he, like Steve and Toby, could not help but look around with admiring expressions at even the smallest things. Those cities had a different atmosphere from those of small—or even large—American ones. Perhaps it was because of all that neon, scattered in even the smallest signs. Maybe it was because of the shape of certain buildings, built of pure wood... From a distance, it had not seemed so different from the photographs of New York, but it was. It certainly was. And it was almost bizarre to find themselves seeing it, not even if they had already ended up in a secondary dimension. 

Steve and Toby's struggle to restrain themselves from pulling out their cell phones and starting to take pictures left and right was more than obvious. Jim himself wished he could have taken a few, but because of the very part of himself that demanded to not be noticed in any way, he turned off the requests and chased them away with all the determination he possessed.

He therefore simply moved forward, trying not to step on the feet of either of the two in front of him. Both of them advanced at a confident pace, slowing down from time to time, occasionally casting glances and nods at each other, turning their heads toward roads where they then ended. They did this with such ease that it made it seem as if they knew the place inside out instead of being there for the first time themselves.

After several refinements and changes of direction, Jim could not help but notice a kind of pattern: more or less, every time it happened they were in the vicinity of graffiti. The graffiti always depicted the same bizarre, almost abstract shapes overlying circles, resembling random inkblots. Of course, it didn't explain exactly how they understood where to find more of the same, but at least it was something. Better than just not figuring it out, and feeling like an utter idiot in between.

They proceeded for a rather long series of minutes, their faint whispers being overpowered by the comings and goings of cars, then, once they reached a small road that had absolutely nothing safe or reassuring about it, they stopped. Precisely, they stopped in front of a building that was a mixture of wood, bamboo, and brick, with a battered, boxy door. It was covered in peeling gray ink, painting the surface only in patches, showing the soft brown underneath. 

It looked like an old abandoned house, nothing more, nothing less. The only thing that distinguished it from a normal house was a small drawing of a snake's head on the right, very detailed in its scales.

"Is this it?" Jim found himself asking, surprised, eventually ending up covering his nose with his arm so as not to feel the heavy stench of rot hovering in the air, disgust and the urge to leave rising rather quickly.

'Ugh. It smells like a mixture of rotten fish, dung, and mold. Oh boy,' a grimace painted his entire face.

"Don't be fooled by appearances," Archibald replied unruffled, reverting in no time to his original form, perching himself on Douxie's shoulder. "It's the quickest way to drive away unwanted people."

"But is the smell really necessary? Ew," commented Steve, showing all his disgust in turn.

"Drive away, Steve," repeated the dragon patiently, waving his tail. "It is more than necessary."

"Couldn't they use a horror movie technique or something like that to drive people away?" He questioned again.

"It wouldn't work. Instead, it would end up attracting the attention of the police, supernatural or haunted house lovers, and... other magical creatures."

"Ah, okay."

Hisirdoux chuckled softly, then immediately reached out his hand and went to touch the entrance with just his fingertips. He mumbled something, a jumble of sounds of which Jim barely understood a final, whispered 'ong'. 

The door lit up a little, accompanying it with red spirals that spun in on themselves and then swarmed out, causing a second snake head to appear, this time drawn on the left wall. Both of them were quite creepy. The second almost seemed to move his eyes to look at them, an image that only served to make him feel a chill run down his entire spine.

The raven-haired boy turned in their direction, his eyebrow arched and a "Are you ready?" peeping from his lips as he pulled the hood down from his head, to which they all replied affirmatively, either by voice or only by nodding, leading them to take off their hoods as well. 

Then he turned back around. He muttered something else, took a big deep breath, and pushed both sides of the door open wide. 

At first, there was only apparent nothingness, total darkness that did not improve the look of the place at all. But then they all stepped, one by one, into the building. The situation changed drastically, not even if a button had been pressed to turn on the light. 

What looked like a room in a bar appeared in front of them. It was very large, exceptionally long, rectangular in shape, with several small doors sprouting from all sides of the walls and a giant closed door straight ahead. 

It had dimmed lights, furniture carved to the smallest detail, paintings and animal heads hanging on the walls, wine-colored curtains... and a single long counter on the far left, with lots of bottles behind it. 

Bottles of both alcohol and blood, it seemed. They weren't even hiding it. You could tell even though they all had Chinese writing on them. There was a single red drop tracing the label, which made itself understood quite well. 

There was no one in the room except right behind the counter: a man—impossible to define his age counting the very heavy layer of makeup that painted his face and that made him look like a hunk of marble—who had long hair, pulled back into a low ponytail and was wearing very old and elegant clothes. 

''Don't do, number one: don't stare at anyone. Above all, don't stare into their eyes for too long.”

Jim gave only a glance, then, just as quickly, shifted his gaze, already feeling uneasy. They were pale purple. So pale as to look almost pink. The pupil was longer than normal.

Archie and Douxie gave him a cautious bow—The Wizard showing the glove for good with Nari's Guarantee in the meantime—to which Jim, Toby, and Steve imitated them, trying to show nonchalance and not the general tension that gripped them. Toby, especially, had to strain to keep his cloak from opening in the movement, showing the belt with the stakes underneath. 

''Don't do, number ten: don’t show you’re armed. Just don’t, no matter what. They really don’t like it. And you have no idea how  they could react. They could just be upset at you… or straight up homicidal. They are good for our protection and it would be insane not to have them, but hide them. Unless they actually attack you first, of course.”

The Vampire returned the bow gracefully, at which Douxie was back to his original position with a manner neither too slow nor too quick. Almost studied. Jim and the others tried to do the same soon after.

Douxie, following this, approached the counter with a silent, watchful step, going to sit on one of the red-bearing metal chairs that were in front of the counter, crossing his legs, arms left in his lap. 

Jim, Steve, and Toby did not sit down. They merely stood behind him, Jim himself looking around and simultaneously casting hasty glances at the Vampire there. The lack of armor made him feel frighteningly uncovered and uncomfortable. Even more so than walking down the street with people around him. 

No one said anything, but still, the bartender went and fished out a white bottle from one of the counter's inner shelves and placed five glasses on the wooden surface, pouring a clear liquid into each one. It could easily have been mistaken for water. It wasn't, of course. 

Douxie took one of the glasses without lingering too long and downed it in one swift swoop, Archie went to fall back on the surface of the counter, approaching another of them and beginning to lick it... So Jim did the same, even though he had felt uncertain in part about what to do—Hisirdoux had not mentioned it previously. But already counting all the things he had informed them about, it was quite normal. From the natural way with which they both had ingested it, it should not have been a big deal. He just hoped it wasn't alcohol or something like that… and at the same time, wondered a very sudden and spontaneous question: could a dragon ingest alcohol? He didn’t know—Toby and Steve did right after him. 

''Don't do, number five: don't refuse anything that is offered to you, speaking of food, drinks or presents, except with an excuse that accepts no retort. To refuse would be seen as rudeness, a denial in the face of an offer of friendship. In any case, the fewer conversations you have with them, the less risk there is of them doing so. Staying away from them should be enough.''  

"Risk?" Jim had asked when Hisirdoux had laid out the rule, seeing both the raven-haired boy and the dragon nod. 

"You can't know what they put in them," Archibald had replied.

“Right. Yeah. Do not accept candies from unknown people. Got it.”  Toby had said. 

The drink had almost no flavor at all, except for a hint of peppermint. It gave no burning feeling in the throat, nor unsettling sensations… It did not seem to have brought any definite results.

But even before they all knew it, the Vampire spoke. And although he was not speaking in English, they all understood him perfectly. Just as, all of a sudden, the writing on the bottles and on the small nameplate that the Vampire was wearing—Guo Toshi?—became legible. 

"What is a loner Mage with the mark of one of the primordial half-gods, his Familiar, a..." he thinned his gaze "... Troll, and two humans doing in the Vampire Nest of Shenyang?" He asked in a cold and emotionless voice, retrieving the empty glasses immediately and laying each of them in a hidden spot behind the counter, starting to rinse shortly after. In his speech, Jim tried to force himself not to stare at his mouth to peek at his teeth. "It doesn't appear to be a simple social call."

"It’s not, you're right," Douxie replied, nodding slightly and lowering his head. “Hisirdoux Casperan, at your service."

“Never heard about you,” the Vampire quipped coldly.

“Not by name, probably, no. Nicknames, maybe.”

Toshi stopped rinsing for a moment. Then he started again, not changing his expression. Not even a little. “Go on, Wizard.” He said.

"Yeah, so. I don’t know which exactly is the title you could know me for, but I know who and what I’m connected to, historically speaking. So… If it doesn’t offend you, Business first, a little clarity later.” A short pause. Toshi raised an eyebrow but nodded. “I’m here to talk privately to Cold Fury if that is possible. In the name of an old mutual friendship." 

Hisirdoux seemed calm. And perfectly confident. Almost in his natural environment while talking.

Toshi was silent for several seconds. They were not allowed to stare at him to somehow avoid bothering him, but he made no issues about staring at Douxie with an attentive and inquiring gaze. "Old mutual friendships, you say," he asserted, something almost curious in the tone of his voice. 

 "The Phantom of Vienna," Douxie said, as Archibald climbed back onto his shoulder. "Bastian Kühn was an amazing host. Couldn’t ask for a better one."

"Oh," Toshi seemed to finish rinsing the glasses but did not start to dry them, stopping himself in place. He left them there, his expression not anymore utterly impassive beneath the makeup. His eyes seemed to shine suddenly as if he had realized something all at once and his mouth opened a bit, leaving him slightly gaping for a short amount of time, before trying to show a bit of composure again, still gulping down a bit of saliva. 

"The Son of the Dragons, I suppose?" He questioned.

Douxie nodded, going then to tilt his head a little. "Exactly. That’s the one." He caressed Archie, who moved from one of his shoulders to the other one. 

"...Just a second," said the Vampire. Then he set off at a faster-than-normal pace—almost hurriedly, a rather bizarre fact for how frosty he had appeared at their entrance, if not for those slight hints of reaction he had shown… especially the last one—and disappeared behind one of the purple curtains, leaving them waiting there, with only silence for company except themselves. 

"Is that good or...?" Began Toby in a very low voice, barely interrupting himself. 

The tense expression shown by both the Wizard and the Familiar was not a clear answer. Verbally they said nothing. Not immediately at least. 

"We'll see," murmured Douxie after a while, standing still in his chair, his back stiff and his nose scrunched. "It's just the first step."

"Son of the Dragons?" Suddenly asked Steve, still in a whisper. 

He shrugged, caressing Archie's fur and moving his hand behind his Familiar's ears.

"Was your mother, father, or both of them Dragons? Or…" 

Hisirdoux made a dumbfounded expression, turning his head sharply in the blond boy's direction, stopping whatever sentence Steve was going to say. "What the… Do I look like I have scales, horns, or a tail anywhere?" 

"No tail, and no horns either... But I can't tell anything about the rest. You even have gloves covering your hands, dude ... You could hide anything, what do I know?" 

'He's not wrong about that, actually,' Jim found himself thinking, arching an eyebrow, as Douxie's hand in Archie's fur twitched, while the Dragon suddenly stiffened, if only for a moment. Then they went back to the way they were before in the blink of an eye. 

“Huh. That’s… fair.” Douxie said simply, his voice extremely low. “But, no. No scales on me.”

Jim could not help but be somewhat puzzled by the reaction. Part of him would have liked to ask questions, but he decided to put them all aside, especially after seeing Toshi’s return. 

He was not alone. Two others were behind him. They both looked very similar in appearance to him. 

They were always wearing heavy makeup, so much so that they looked as pale as ghosts, always with white hair, always with very clear eyes. It was as if someone had wrung every last hint of melanin and life out of them at the same time. Albinos, basically, but even more impressive to look at.

"Permission to meet granted," said Toshi, returning to his apathetic and distant tone of voice. "Follow them, please. They will take you to Cold Fury, as you asked."

********

Donn bent slightly over his legs, resting his hands on his hips and looking down at Nemain's lying figure. She was bound somewhat tightly by a synthetic rope,—knotted at least six times—was blindfolded and had an anti-magic collar around her neck.

Her face was painted with a furious expression, to say the least, so much so that she was even grinding her teeth like a rabid dog.

He had struggled to find her after Badb had called him saying that she had not responded to her Summoning request. Her Location had been hidden for several hours… and when it had reappeared, he had followed it to a rocky, isolated beach on Bolshoy Shantar Island, the largest in the Shantar’s Archipelago. Not a shocking fact, counting the resonance there, but the fact that the Witch was reduced to that state was certainly a surprise.

"How in the Snallygaster did you end up like that?" He asked, taking away the blindfold that covered her eyes. He did not know whether to be worried for her because of the collar or amused because, from time to time, karma for her slightly too cranky attitude would hit her and he found it kinda hilarious when it happened. "Who kicked your butt? Enlighten me."

The grimace on Nemain's face even worsened, so much so that she looked more than ready to commit murder there and then, although she was not at all capable of it, reduced like that. "...I don't know, you moron." she spat out in a sour voice, kicking the ground and displacing several small stones on impact. "Whoever they are, the son of a bitch has erased my memory."

"Well," Donn decided to get to work on freeing her, partly because making her wait would only make her angrier, retrieving the bayonet and smashing the rope with a quick, more-than-usual flick of his wrist. "You need to look for Macha as soon as possible, then."

"You don't need to tell me that," she blurted out, still unnerved, hurriedly going to pull herself up, letting the cut rope remain on the ground and giving it a look. Not a mere glance, but one that seemed to show her full desire to set fire to it. A somewhat exaggerated disdain, counting that it was not the fault of the rope itself, but of whoever it was that it had belonged to… and whoever had kicked her ass. Who was gonna pay for sure , even though Donn wasn’t that much of a fan of Nemain’s attitude. 

Donn picked up the synthetic material, going to shove it with the blindfold into the old shoulder bag he had brought with him, where there were mainly supplies, all enclosed in paper bags. They were mostly sweets—He had so many Clove rocks. And just as many Cadbury Dairy Milk Bars. He loved them both—The more sugar the better, both for his taste and for his Magic. A better energy boost could not have been had. 

When he finished, raising his head, he found Nemain looking him in the eye, pointing to the anti-magic collar with her right hand, looking impatient. "Get it off my neck, will you?"

Donn rolled his eyes. "Never ask 'please', do you?"

She huffed, visibly annoyed. "Get stuffed. There is no time to waste."

‘Typical response from her.’ Donn decided to follow her request to avoid a quarrel.

He quickly went to find a pair of dark gray gloves, which he put on instantly, then the Daedalus Key he had on hand. He felt an ever-so-slightly sour feeling in the pit of his stomach as he looked at it once it was pulled out. 

Then he thrust it into the slot of the collar, unlocking the mechanism with a slight ' click' and causing the metal to fall back to the ground with a thud. The collar, unlike the two before, was not retrieved by him.

"Thank you," Nemain asserted in a slightly less harsh manner once she was free, to which he nodded at her. "Let's go, now." She then blurted out, her eyes going bright red even in her sclera, somewhat like her own Aura, which seemed to explode around her. This was while she was massaging her neck with slow circular hand motions, the black veins slowly disappearing from her skin.

Donn put the instrument away. "Yes, yes, Your Majesty," he replied, receiving a look from her that seemed to say ‘Piss off.’

He did not feel one hundred percent like setting out to return to the Lair, in all honesty, but exposing the thought would surely only increase the Bones Witch's nervousness. And it was high enough already; giving wood branches to the flames would have been downright stupid. 

Donn still ended up looking at Nemain shortly after they set off, suddenly realizing something. "The Chimeras?" 

"Gone. Whoever my opponent was, they must have killed them all… or maybe they threw them into the Limbo and they still must be trying to get out of it. Fuck if I know."

"You think they were a Mage?" Donn crossed his arms. It could have also been another semi-human creature, hard to be sure about it... 

"To clash against me and come out as the winner, binding me and all? Yes. A fucking dullard Mage, because they should have killed me instead of letting me go alive, but still a Mage." Nemain paused, one of her hands going into the pockets of her cape before her eyes snapped open. She even went to the second pocket in an agitated manner, but came out the same way. 

Donn saw her stop, paralyzing herself on the spot, taking the cape off her shoulders and kicking it to the ground, shoving her hands beneath her dress and stockings. Even into her shoes. 

"There's no way..." she muttered furiously, after finishing her checks. She was barely trembling, appearing so stiff as to resemble a hyper-realistic statue. "The dirty fucking asshole stole the Sealed Emblem from me."

He, too, ended up stopping walking, looking at her. "Maybe you just lost it? I always told you to put a zipper on those pockets but with your fixation on looks..."

She opened and then closed her mouth again, looking at him with an expression between offended and irritated, then making a noise of pure frustration. "Do you think I'm that dumb? It was connected to my magic! It wouldn't have gone anywhere except with burnout or an anti-magic collar around my neck!" 

"Exactly. The Mage brought you all the way here from who knows where. It might even have slipped out of your pockets during the journey."

"Donn..." she said in a sing-song voice, flashing a forced smile painted with pure irritation. "Don't fucking test my patience with your random Sherlock Holmes-y assumptions. I'm angry enough as it is. Fucking hell…"

Donn arched an eyebrow, then he sighed, rolling his eyes. And he decided to keep quiet.

‘Well, alright. Always so amazingly sweet, honey,' he thought sarcastically.  

********

''Don't do, number two: don't show wavering or insecurity with anyone, but don't be haughty. Too much is jarring on all sides, except when it comes to showing yourself elegantly in public and respectful toward them.''

What Jim, Steve, and Toby saw after exiting the large building left them even more speechless than Shenyang itself. Perhaps not to the level of when they had first entered the Trollmarket, because it was hard to top the level of majesty that place had, but not so much either. 

The bridge—of entirely black wood, decorated with gold symbols, which did not translate like the Chinese writings—on which they had ended up after crossing the exit was very long and partly scary. It led them in the direction of a staircase that first descended and then climbed dizzyingly, going to divide into seven arches, all reaching different parts of the city in front of them, divided by ditches covered by nature climbing into them… or by large lakes with semi-transparent boats. 

One of the seven parts, the one in the center, had the largest buildings and seemed to be the very heart of the city even by looking at it in the distance. 

All the buildings were lit by floating lanterns and were built differently for each faction of the city, giving it, though, a feeling that was like a sense of continuity. Maybe for the ancient Chinese style. The thing they all had in common, too, was the colorful Gothic stained glass windows that, almost ironically, resembled those found in churches.

Everything was covered by a ceiling of dark rock, but polished to the point of being almost totally smooth, embellished again and again by those stained glass windows that were, however, reminiscent of iridescent stones crossed by rays of light. They in turn illuminated everything around them with large halos of colors, not too bright to be eyesores. 

"Wow..." murmured Jim in a breathy voice, feeling it somewhat hoarse. He forced himself to keep walking, avoiding getting stuck in place and perhaps thus risking falling behind.

He then took oxygen and threw it out, continuing to recapitulate every single don't-do—there were ten—in his head almost mechanically. And mostly hoping not to forget any of them as he continued to look around, always moving forward. 

They had said them several times before, repeating them as in a mantra—Steve in particular had been forced to say them at least twenty times—but Jim preferred a little mental review, hoping the tension would not play tricks on him. Having partially interpreted them as theater lines had helped a lot. 

''Don't do, number three: never start speaking directly to someone on your initiative. Always wait for a question or permission, if there should be a need.''

For that rule, Jim was more than sure that he would have no problems. He had no intention of striking up a conversation with any of them. Just as he would have no problem with rule number six. 

"Don't do, number six: No physical contact. Not even small ones. Among vampires, physical contact is exclusively for family members, close friends, and partners, unless requested for help. Still, it's seen as sort of an off-limits way of interaction."

"Can Vampires have children?" Had asked Toby, open-mouthed in surprise. 

"They can't reproduce, no. But blood sharing and transformation of an individual is seen as stretching one's genealogical bloodline in the Clans."

When they reached the part of the ladder that went up, Jim saw Toby take a big deep breath. They were certainly less than the ones they had walked up in Camelot's Castle, but it was the way they rose to reach the arches that would bring anyone into a cold sweat, trained or not. 

''Don't do, number eight: Avoid getting hurt at all costs. It may seem an all too obvious rule, but whether it is or not, it is surely the most important.''

They had to be very careful where they stepped. All of them. Even after drinking the garlic and hawthorn mixture, it was much, much better if none of them had fallen and maybe skinned a knee in the process. 

Jim picked his way up the steps, casting yet another hasty glance at the two Vampires who were leading them to their destination in the meantime, returning only later to the white rock, trying not to end up dropping his gaze to the ravines, who knows how deep, on either side of the stairs.

********

Reaching the heart of the Nest had been an indescribable effort, but Douxie, despite everything, saw it as a good first achievement. They all could have been thrown out at moment zero, but it had not happened. Of course, being thrown out and then going back to Camelot with their tail between their legs was less dangerous than risking being attacked later, but it was certainly much more humiliating. And frustrating. Yes, very frustrating. Like having the door slammed on your face even before trying to do something properly. 

A large crowd of Vampires surrounded them when they reached the main square, the one where Cold Fury's dwelling was, a seven-floored building with the doors already wide open—also showing curtains. There were curtains everywhere. Douxie couldn't see the reason for that if not because of the mysterious look they gave to the place. Vienna's were less like that. They had large Victorian Age looking buildings instead—but protected by numerous Guards, who were distinguished from the common Vampires by a few silver stars that decorated the sleeves of their clothes. 

Some of the Vampires had dyed hair due to probable recent travels in the human side of Shenyang; others continued to appear with their natural white hair. 

Douxie could feel their gazes, especially those of the townspeople. Some of them were simply interested in the news of the moment, while others seemed to be looking at them like snacks rather than people. The latter was not appreciated, but unless the Chief had ordered it, it was difficult for them to try to assault them in any way. At least, he hoped they would not. Had they not had enough control, everything would have gone wrong even by standing there for a couple of minutes.

One of the two Vampires who were escorting them went to deal with the very crowd, immediately trying to get them to disperse, the other instead turned toward him a second and then nodded to the Guards shortly after, continuing to walk in their direction. 

Douxie cast a glance at Steve, Jim, and Toby. The blond immediately flanked him on the side where Archie did not cover him. Jim and Toby, on the other hand, stayed behind him in a single line.

They reached the Guards at the door. And Hisirdoux was already fully prepared, in his false confidence, to make for the entrance to the building only to have four possible outcomes: the first, perhaps too optimistic, would have allowed him to proceed with the others behind him. The second, a slight variation, but still quite optimistic, would have let them enter but split them up in front of the Leader's room. The third would have let only him and Steve in, leaving Jim in front of the door and Toby a little further back. The fourth, the worst of them, would have been a total refusal of entry… and a possible assassination attempt. Or a kidnapping attempt. 

He had no idea which of the four it would be. Guo Toshi's agitation could have been read both positively—recognition, respect, listening, and possible alliance against the common enemy—and extremely negatively—fear, contempt, seeing him as an enemy to be taken out of the way at the most opportune time…—so he could do nothing but mentally swear, pet Archie on the back of his head from time to time, and hope for the best.

A Guard—so bloody tall! Douxie kinda wanted to wear boots with high heels at that moment, to feel less small—when he tried to enter, stood in front of him. And Douxie already began to sense the pattern.

"Only you," he said dryly, his gaze traveling to Archie, Steve, and the others. "No one else."

'Blast it.'

Douxie didn't show annoyance. He took a small breath, threw it out, and raised his head with all the grace and self-confidence he could muster. Which wasn't a lot, but he was good at faking it

"It's a little impolite to take my bodyguards and my Familiar away from me, don't you think?" He said cautiously in response, trying not to sound sour. Or rude. Being rude would have been the worst thing possible. But looking a little offended was necessary. "This building is full of them, after all. And it's just small talk… Someone could think you may have an interest in leaving me alone there." A theatrical pause, in which he saw a second Guard shoot a stern glance at the first one, causing him to stiffen his jaw and narrow his eyes a little.

"You, your Familiar, and the human in front. No one else ." The first Guard asserted. He sounded almost robotic while saying this, and his tone accepted no attempt at debate.

'That's it. A bit better than the murder-kidnapping option.' He thought, trying to maintain a calm expression, although some part of himself wanted to try to get off balance and retort somehow. Maybe forcing his hand a little. But… 

'Not a good idea. Division it is, then...'

Douxie lowered his head slightly, "Fine." he said, smiling a little, not showing his teeth. "Thank you for your patience and understanding." He added before turning yet another time in the direction of Jim and Toby, meeting the eyes of the Trollhunter at last. Jim nodded back at him. 

Hisirdoux then turned back to look at Steve and subsequently at the door. He walked through it with anxiety instantly taking over his guts, moving one of the curtains with a small movement of his hand.

The building was large. Refined flooring, a newly repainted parquet floor. A rich aesthetic with attention to the smallest detail. The walls were dark green, decorated with an almost baroque-looking taste. Various statues and paintings occupied the walls and corners. Even the ceilings of the rooms displayed artworks, although Douxie was not sure who painted them—They had no famous trait, but weren't too old—along with rosettes with fine settings.

Steve, on his left, had the look of someone who wanted to make three thousand different comments, as if he were about to lose his mind at any moment, but he was visibly restraining himself, taking repeated deep breaths.

Archie, on his right shoulder, on the other hand, was looking around with total attention, ready to attack anyone who had even tried to do anything he didn't particularly like. His tail was being waved almost twice per second and his ears were pulled back. With the Vampires in Vienna—especially in the first few months—he had behaved in the same way. Perhaps even worse in some ways. He had yet to growl, at least. Douxie resumed stroking him, as he could not send strong emotions of any kind to him to help him relax a bit, but just hints, bubbles of feelings that rose in and out, without leaving an impact.

The Vampire who continued to accompany them, leading the way, pointed them to a hall with a long table, covered with a tablecloth that almost touched the ground, but devoid of dishes of any kind on it. "Take the stairs and then to the left to the red door. Cold Fury is waiting for you."

His tone sounded much more respectful and kind of both Guo Toshi and the Guard who had blocked him. However, he then seemed to want to deceive him with a fake sense of freedom to do as he pleased without any issue following it. As if they weren't being watched in every smallest movement, ready to be attacked if they even breathed too loudly for the Chief's taste.

They still followed his instructions perfectly, all senses as sharp as possible, without trying to show their alarm in between. And the red door appeared before their eyes soon enough.

It was not exactly red. No. It was more of a reddish-brown, with scarlet red writing that simply said 'to protect the weak unable to defend themselves is the strong people's task.'

It was an interesting catchphrase. But Douxie was not going to budge in his alarmed state. If the words were just words, Cold Fury could have written a dirty joke as well and Douxie would have read it in the same way. No, maybe not. Perhaps he might have laughed at it for the innovative and unexpected choice.

The door, of course, was also protected by a guard, but this Vampire did not comment. He merely banged his fist on the wood twice before receiving a "Come in" from a clear, youthful male voice. And then he opened the door for them.

They entered.

Chapter Text

TRACK 15

So put your best face on everybody

Pretend you know this song, everybody 

Come hang, come hang

Let's go out with a bang

Bang! Bang! Bang!

(Bang!- AJR) 

********

Claire was quite tense. More than tense, even. The waiting, as usual, could be very stifling and unnerving.

She could only stand there, leaning her back against the wall or sitting on her mattress, which seemed to have become inexplicably hard. She could only try to keep her senses as active as possible, ready to sense the signal on the back of her hand—which she hoped would not come, really—but her almost complete lack of information made her feel even more anxious.

She would have liked to know what was happening. She would have liked to enter the Nest too, but she had no motivation to do so, not at that moment. If she had, she probably would have screwed everything up—or almost. And she didn't want to be the cause of a possible disaster. They had tried to plan far too many things in a couple of hours or so, and it had all been done very seriously. To blow the whole job to hell was something she would have a hard time forgiving herself. 

Claire chased the thought away with a small snort and a hasty shake of her head, going to rest her gaze on Blinky, absorbed in reading and already flanked by Aaarrrgh, who was instead looking around carefully, keeping an eye on the outside. 

She moved closer to the two and sat down, ignoring how cold the floor was. She took a deep breath and then threw it out, hoping some of her frustration would come out with it, beginning to fiddle nervously first with her cape and then with a few strands of hair. 

She glanced at the pages of the volume Blinky was holding after a couple of seconds when she saw the Troll turn the page.

The writing was always illegible, but there was a drawing of a woman with strangely short hair. Strangely because, if she did not remember wrong—she had read it somewhere or someone had told her, she did not remember well—that both women and men kept their hair long in past China. But she had her hair cut very short, in a simple pixie cut, part of the locks covering her left eye. 

She was in a traditional Chinese dress—she had no idea how it was called—, of a dull green color. Her hands were barely raised, with a big eye-catching ring adorning the index finger of her right hand and a skull resting in both. An all-white butterfly stood just above the skull.

"That's..." she croaked with difficulty, the beginning of the question escaping her lips even before she realized it—perhaps motivating how her voice came out—failing to complete it anyway.

She could not help but dwell on how young she appeared. She barely looked 20 years old, just like Douxie—although that could have been the fault of the depiction itself, which was quite stylized, albeit in color. It had its charms as a drawing style, she couldn't help but admit that. 

' From the story I had imagined her to be aesthetically much older than that, if it is her... ' she thought.

"The necromancer witch, Xia,” Blinky expounded, thus confirming her hypothesis. He went to look at her after a while. "It seems she was one of the oldest witches. Very famous and loved before she started resurrecting the dead."

Claire bit her lower lip, a certain curiosity rising to the surface. "Does the book say why she did it?"

"Not clearly, no. There are... a few assumptions. That she stumbled upon a volume or scroll of Wugu magic on a quest outside her town and that by touching it she became possessed by it." A pause. "That it was simply her desire for power that drove her to experiment in impure magic. That she feared dying to such an extent that, even in her immortality, she decided to try to cross the boundary of balance… and many other possibilities, though they are quite similar to these."

' Can books and scrolls even possess people?.... It's strange to think that. But if Morgana’s Skathe-Hrün allowed her to possess me, then... '

"Have you read about the Keeper yet?" She found herself asking, chasing away the previous thought and trying to ignore the discomfort that instantly caused under her skin. A dirty feeling, almost, that had hovered inside her in the first weeks after she had been practically exorcized. A dirty feeling that had made her feel as if she had been the intruder in her own body, not the Mother of Monsters. She felt it less often at times like this, but it was there nonetheless. 

"Yes, but he was only mentioned a couple of times. No representation of him drawn in the volume yet." Blinky ran his hand over the pages of the tome. "So far it has talked about the historical situation, about Xia’s Lair, which was called the Crucible... About condemnations, perhaps unjust, perhaps not, suffered by a group of witches who practiced black magic, since signs of Alchemical Transmutation of humans or animals had been found."

Claire blinked in confusion. "...Sorry, I didn't understand that last one."

"Alchemical Transmutation," repeated the Troll. "I have no idea how it works, but it was a type of Necromancy in which they used the component materials of the body, studying the doses, to bring corpses back to life."

"So basically they were taking human flesh, bones and...?" Claire shivered, feeling a knot forming in both her throat and the pit of her stomach, accompanied by nausea. She tried to—and struggled to—digress, hoping to chase it all away, but failed miserably. They seemed to have taken root.

"Not really. They were chemical elements, Fair Claire. Iron, fluorine, silicon, and others…” he stared, blinked, stared more, and chuckled. “Several others." Blinky went back through the book, turning back several pages. "Only Xia herself had tried to make an exchange between a living being and a dead one, it seems. And from there, well, came those creatures Mister Casperan mentioned, the Jiangshis." A particularly long pause. "They are complicated and dangerous spells, with unpredictable results to say the least."

Yes, it was pretty blatant as a thing. Unless Xia had been completely out of her mind—that was still a possibility to consider, especially for the simple fact that she had allowed them to kill entire city populations! And that was not the attitude of sane people—she did not think the woman would expect one of the very creatures she had created to turn on her and then devour her.

Claire nodded a little, leaving Blinky to continue his reading, ending up looking out as Aaarrrgh for several moments before then returning to cast a glance at the rune on her hand and then at the woman's drawing once more.

'I wonder if it is really out of power or possession that she decided to do such a thing,' she found herself thinking, a grimace painting itself on her face, leading her to frown. ' Hopefully, no one else will have a good idea of creating new ones, anyway.'

She really, really hoped not. It would have been unpleasant. More than unpleasant. Gruesome, for sure… and with unimaginable proportions of disaster to say the least. Just like an apocalyptic movie. Or precisely like zombie TV shows. 

She had never seen it, but Toby's explanation and scrolling through the Internet pages a bit—when they still had been in America—had been enough for her to get a pretty good idea of what it would be like to find herself in such a situation. There had been various fantasies about how to protect herself and what kind of buildings would be the safest. 

Just saying it had been almost fun, a way of chatting and letting one's mind go into disparate hypotheses, the concepts of which seemed light years away, really. But... not in reality. Putting it into practice would not have been at all. Oh, no, definitely not.

********

In Shenyang, it had been 3 a.m. when Douxie and the others had descended into the city to reach the Vampire Nest. In Arcadia Oaks, because of the time zone, it had barely been noon of the previous day.

The weather was warm. Zoe had recently finished her early shift at Magellan's Antique Mall and she had been sweating all morning, disgusted by feeling wet all over. She had walked out of the store at a brisk pace, albeit feeling tired and sore, desperately wanting to satisfy the inhuman grumblings of her stomach, go home, and get a shower. Then to have a very, very long nap. 

She didn’t know whether to go to Xang's again like the day before or just have two quick Tacos and then sneak off to her apartment. Another option, too, was to order both Japanese and Mexican to go and then decide lazily on the couch. 

Before she could figure it out, a hint of a strange and out-of-place smell crossed her nostrils. It seemed to be a mixture of marigold, jasmine, and hydrangea. It was a magical Aura, for it was pinching her nose in a way that only Magic was capable of doing… And…

'They must be a newcomer, a Loner who has just entered the city because this is not an Aura I recognize...'  

She couldn't even tell which was their prominent Magic. It was surely something rare, though, especially because of the marigold. 

The Technomancer stopped in place, fortunately still standing on the sidewalk and not in the middle of the road or she would have risked getting run over. 

She pulled out her cell phone and entered the Lair chat, sending a quick message to communicate the news. She sent it to Vanessa and Kai, too, then considered for a few seconds whether to send it to Douxie and Alice as well. She ended up doing it anyway, not giving herself too much time to mull it over, not wanting to risk losing the trail. 

Her gaze soon took to traveling right and left, all the while she was tossing the phone into her pocket, trying to focus hard on where the smell was trying to take her. 

She didn't know whether to hope that their perception was already active, to make her job easier, perhaps finding them staring back at her... Or whether to hope for the opposite, so as not to be noticed and have time to study them first, to get an idea of what kind of Mage they were. 

The Lair would not have liked to have a troublemaker in town. Being at least partially sure of the latter's type of attitude would have helped her decide whether to approach them or just wait for them to leave. 

If they had been a chaotic asshole, some of the Arcadia’s Lair would certainly have approached them, but only to push them to change cities as quickly as possible. Or to teach them a good lesson. The second option had always appealed to Zoe and she was not ashamed to admit it. No, she wasn't ashamed at all about it.

She ended up taking her gaze to the GDT between things, almost even without realizing it. The bookstore, inside, was empty—of course, it was. Douxie wasn’t in the city and Ace was on his lunch break, too—but in front of it was a girl. 

She was tiny and had olive skin and ebony hair, held back by a flowery ribbon. She looked as if she had just come from a fashion parade of eccentric clothes. Not in color—it was a simple pink shade, near to fuchsia—but in shape. What she wore resembled an open umbrella, but with the open end being on the opposite side of her expectation: towards her chest. And her stockings—long and white, connected to garters—had little pockets with small buttons closing them. 

It was a surprise that no one was staring at her but Zoe. Maybe it was because, by now, everyone in that town had gotten used to seeing weirdness between the Trolls, Changelings, and the Aliens. So a little chick dressed in absolutely weird clothes must have seemed almost commonplace. Not for the Technomancer, though, counting that the magical Aura came right from her and made her eccentric way of dressing even weirder. 

Trying not to stand out too much to humans was literally in the ABC's of a Mage. Why was this little moron walking around like this? Was it because whispers had gotten out to other cities saying that, well, the population in Arcadia knew of the existence of magical creatures? But did this mean that there was a possibility that she wanted to stay?

Her first apparent stop had been the GDT… and the GDT was pulsing with magic. Assuming that hers had not been simple curiosity about books—a common trait of most Mages, hard to find one who did not fall into the pattern, even if Kai kinda did—then there was indeed a high possibility that she was trying to figure out where the Lair was. 

When the girl turned, perhaps sensing her Aura, perhaps because she had felt herself being watched, Zoe found herself meeting two almost feline, pitch-black eyes. The unknown witch smiled in a way that reminded her of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland . For unclear reasons, perhaps because of her instinct, perhaps because she was creepy in an absurd way—what the fuck? She usually enjoyed creepy stuff. And she enjoyed Tim Burton’s works, so, seriously, what the fuck?—Ashildr felt a chill run down her entire spine. 

"Hello," the freaky girl said, approaching with her hand already extended and in small steps, echoing her rainbow-colored heels repeatedly against the asphalt. "My name is Badb Catha. Nice to meet you." 

' Badb?... That's almost as weird as Hisirdoux.'

"Same here..." she found herself answering her, a little clipped, frowning and not accepting her hand. She continued squaring her, partly finding the Witch suspicious. "I’m Zoe Ashildr."

"I like that name, it’s really pretty," Badb said, perhaps with excessive glee. Or maybe the Technomancer was reading too much into it. Her pessimistic view of things could be quite insistent, especially with people and first impressions. "Sorry to ask, Zoe, but first of all could you point me to a place with a bathroom? The journey to get here has been kind of long."

********

The room was large and elegant in every tiny millimeter of it. Every object in it was almost collectible. Every fabric, always between the colors of burgundy and cream, was precious. It was as if that room was in every way the definition of luxury. 

Besides a large crystal table, below an extravagant hanging chandelier made from apparent brass tree branches, was Cold Fury. 

He must have been in his mid-twenties or something like that, an appearance that followed his type of voice. The same did a casual-looking, pastel-colored clothing that was not old-fashioned or traditional, but almost too current fashion-like.

His hair was short, in a wolf cut cropped to a scaled-down style. It was mostly white, but from the ears onward, the strands showed shades of gray, dark gray, and black. It was unclear whether they were such because he had recently been Vampirized or because he had previously dyed and cut his hair recently. His eyes, bright red like embers, gave a stark answer to that. 

Only newbies had red eyes. And his own were not even tending toward the palest shades of red. 

'Made a Vampire by less than thirty years and already the Leader of the Nest? ' Douxie thought, surprised. 'He is probably one of the Transformed by the past Chief, who took power after him and chose to honor his Family member by taking his title. But as a fact, it is not certain...'

It was strange. It was very strange. Douxie knew how to keep an eye on the news in the Vampire world, but he did not hear any news regarding a novice Shenyang Leader.

Usually, all he had to do was to seek out one of the many messengers who were in the cities, a Skinwalker, most of the time—Shamans, not Wizards, just able to change form into specific animals and who could talk to them as a result. They were viewed very badly by the human community. There were so many negative stories about them on the Internet and in some esoteric volumes that reading about them chilled the blood inside his veins the first time he informed himself. They were accused of cannibalism, necrophilia, infant abduction, cattle mutilation, and in some ways even rape. They were even mistaken for werewolves at times. It was nauseating, to say the least. Humanity did not know what to come up with in some cases—and to offer an exchange—whatever they wanted. Usually, just animal bones to give to the little ones to chew on—to be updated with information.

If he could, Douxie would have used other methods as well, but the Vampire Nests were... complicated. They were impossible to keep track of with Runes or to find with normal Localization. Only Shadow Magic allowed the search for members in it because the shadows had no boundaries unless there were specific Seals against them. And Douxie had not seen them in the Nest… not even in the numerous windows and curtains. But it was quite normal. Shadowmancers were rare, after all. In all his years he had encountered only three of them. Two were dead, too, right now.

Hisirdoux and Archie made a bow once they found themselves in front of the Vampire. Steve did so in turn, though in a slightly more hurried, flustered, and disheveled manner. 

"Please seat yourself, Son of the Dragons," asserted Cold Fury, lifting the corners of his mouth only a hint—a smile that seemed more like a mistake of movement than an actual sign of happiness, but counting that they had practically invited themselves into his Nest, it was already a lot—and going to point to the red velvet armchairs a short distance from the table. 

Douxie immediately did as he was told, "Thank you, Xiāngsheng." He said, clear and seemingly calm. As if there was no feeling of anxiety tickling his stomach. As if he didn't feel many hairs standing on the back of his neck at the idea that he had to manage to be concise without exaggerating. He had to entertain him, but be careful to not overdo it.

With Bastian, it had been easy. A little voice in his head told him, however, that the ease with which they had interacted was only due to the experiences they had in common. It told him that the main reason everything had gone so smoothly was because of the feelings the Leader had for him. Cold Fury did not know him. He had only heard a bit of his exploits and could only ever pay attention to the Guarantee Nari had given him. 

Wasn't asking him to join his cause a little too pretentious?... It probably was. But at this point, it was too late to have second thoughts and therefore turn around. If he decided at that point to run away, to make up an excuse out of the blue, he doubted that the Leader would take it well.

"Oh, no need for formalities. Just call me Tai-Yang," said the Vampire, though showing to be pleased by the respect he had provided him as his smile became more natural. He crossed his fingers in front of him, resting his chin on them. Steve, during that, stood behind Douxie, watching carefully where he put his feet, hoping not to trip over the voluminous round carpet of white fur, probably not taken by animals, that covered that specific area of the floor.

"Tai-Yang it is, then," he replied. "It would also please me to be called by name, too, if it is not too rude to request it. If it is, may I be forgiven in advance," a little pause for the effect, while feeling the slight anticipation forming inside the room. Tai-Yang's expression still looked pleased. Douxie took it as a sign to continue, shifting his gaze to Archie, who had gone to sit on his crossed legs—He couldn't even remember when he had put them like that. Ouch. He had to control his movements a bit more. "Hisirdoux Casperan. My Dragon Familiar, Archibald, and my Bodyguard, Steve."

"Hisirdoux..." Tai-Yang seemed to be testing each letter on his tongue as he pronounced his name. "French?"

Douxie hinted at a smile, still carefully not showing his teeth. "Half-blood, but yes." 

The Vampire emitted a sound emanating from the back of his throat, low and hoarse. And shortly looked at the blond. He felt Steve’s temptation to butt in in some way, but he still did not talk.

“A human being, especially a teen, as a bodyguard for a Wizard? That’s actually quite…” The Chief paused, almost trying to find the right word. “...Unusual,” he ended up saying.

“Well, yes,” he admitted, chuckling. “It’s a complicated story, honestly. I don’t want to bore you with it.”

Tai-Yang looked at him, his smile dropping a little. “I guess you don’t mean to stay for long?”

“Sadly, no. Nari of the Eternal Forest is waiting for us. And we’re going to move soon.”

The Leader nodded, then he stretched forward slightly, going to lift a narrow ceramic pitcher and two cups, also of the same material. Once he filled them, he extended one in his direction, holding the other. "I hope you like Peach tea," he said.

Douxie forced himself to grab it. A part of him roared with anxiety at that. He hoped it was simply what Tai-Yang had announced, without some other substance added before they had entered, but... Still, he couldn’t be sure of it.

"To what is this unexpected honor due to, then, Hisirdoux?"

"I wish I could say that the reason is simply the making of your acquaintance," he asserted slowly, weighing the cup, scrutinizing the liquid between red and golden in it, smelling nothing but the normal odor of the drink, but not being able to sniff the tea properly before drinking.

It was true, what he had said. Had it been a simple introduction to each other, making small talk about what the Skinwalkers weren't saying, well, it wouldn't have been so bad.

"But my reasons are different," he murmured, simply pretending he was blowing air just to remove the heat and not as a sign of reluctance. The smoke rising from the liquid, at least, was allowing him to stall without looking like a total moron. 

He didn't want to drink. But he had to. He really had to. Or the offense on his part would have been blatant to say the least, especially since the Vampire had only shown good intentions and manners toward him at the moment.

'Well, make it or break it...' he thought, feeling Steve behind him lightly moving an arm, while Archie—still positioned on his legs—knew his body language well, making it obvious to him how he was ready to leap forward in case the result was not appreciated.

Douxie brought the tea to his lips with both hands and sipped it. The fresh flavor of the peach exploded above his tongue. It was intense and not at all watery, fruity, and not too strong. There seemed to be nothing off about it, not even a hint of nuance out of place. 

It seemed at least that he was not trying to attempt his life. That was good. Unless he had put thallium sulfate in it, Tai-Yang had not poisoned him.

‘Huh, it would be kinda funny. Called a rat, perhaps killed by a rodenticide… But it would work almost immediately with the symptoms, so…’  Maybe he could remove that too from the list. 'About sleeping pills or tasteless drugs, however… That’s not so defined.’

Seeing Tai-Yang drinking in turn, Douxie relaxed slightly. And resumed speaking, still as cautiously as possible. "I'm here for business matters. They are... Very important," 

The Vampire's gaze seemed to be trying to invite him to speak, to which he hurried on, not wanting to risk spacing him out. Not that he was doing it on purpose to fill the dialogue with pauses, but having to calculate every word to try to avoid possible offense was something he hadn't done in about seventy years. He needed to warm up a bit. It had been all too easy to get used to the attitude of people in the twenty-first century.

"...I have no idea if the rumors have reached you as well, but... There's a Mage Lair these days that are trying to recruit more Magical Creatures around the world," Douxie cast a glance at Steve, nodding to him. 

The blond boy, albeit with insecurity and ever-so-slightly nervousness overflowing from the way his hands trembled a bit as he searched, partly hidden—thank goodness, he was letting him speak without commenting—from a serious, perhaps only slightly intimidated expression and pulled out the Sealed Emblem. Then he set it down on the crystal table and returned behind him, still paying attention to where he was walking.

Tai-Yang, the instant he saw the small, square piece of cardboard, seemed to stiffen. His jaw twitched a little, causing a 'click-like' sound. His eyes, then, seemed as if to light up, almost igniting with explosive fury. It was enough to drastically stop the raven-haired boy from saying anything else, almost leading him to bite his own lower lip. 

Such a reaction could mean several things, and… honestly, Douxie had no idea what it could be, exactly. 

That he was angry, well, that was obvious. But with whom, exactly? With the Lair? With him because maybe he thought he was involved with all of that? Or, opposite side of the view, with him because he was not on the side of the Lair's plan?

It wasn't the last one, right? It couldn't be. It… No, thinking about it, it could. And if it was the latter, it didn't mean anything good.

But it had to be the Lair to which he was angry, right? Maybe he knew them. Maybe… 

“I guess you heard about them,” he said, gulping down the saliva stuck inside his throat and sipping some more tea. 

'Wow, if this situation ends well, I'll ask him where he got it. This is really good.'

If he could have heard Archie, the Dragon would surely have told him to concentrate and to ignore the drink. He would not have been wrong.

"Yes. They're a group of extremists and cold-blooded killers," Tai-Yang answered, his jaw still twitching. The look in his eyes darkened while his gaze raised on him again. “Are you a part of them?” He sounded so bloody menacing while asking it, holy hell.

“No,” Douxie answered immediately. Not doing so would have brought him very close to being attacked for a misunderstanding. He felt relieved by it, though. It meant that it was only he who had been overthinking—as always. Bloody hell, his brain—and that the Shenyang Leader's anger had been devoted mostly to the Lair itself. 

"I'm not on their side," he said, trying not to sound too dry, though he felt disgusted even at the idea of being so. "I repudiate their will. I understand what they are thinking, and their point of view, but I don't accept how they theoretically want to improve the world. Having humans being exterminated because of fear, rage, racism or selfishness is like returning to the worst history timelines, but even worsening them."

"So you are not here to recruit us Shenyang Vampires?" Tai-Yang asked, gently placing the cup on the table, even though it was still half full. He still seemed angry, but not as much as before.

"I am," he answered honestly—answering otherwise would have been either a lie or trying to embellish the truth and nothing more. "But not for an army against human beings," a small pause. "Like the phrase engraved on the door of this room, my vision is to protect those who cannot protect themselves. To save lives. To save as many lives as possible. And continue to do so as long as I have breath.”

'Because it is the only way I have value as a person. Because there are people who have more value than me and deserve to live more than me. Because it is the only way for me not to be seen as a monster and nothing more.' 

He chose to finish his tea as quickly as possible, still enjoying every drop of it, placing his cup on the table, too.

Tai-Yang had fallen silent, then he stood up. Douxie forced every part of his body to remain still where he was, even though a good part of him wanted to imitate him so that he would not be looked down upon, feeling his air lacking and the pressure of gravity suddenly increasing.

The Vampire approached him, looking rather collected, since he held his arms behind his back, which gave him a composed, a bit stiff, posture. His heavy footsteps echoed in the silence.

He stood beside him, so much so that he was face to face with Steve, being at least ten inches taller than the blond—who was very, very near to saying something, if his face testified to it—looking rather imposing and commanding. 

He made Douxie feel strongly uneasy, not knowing exactly if it was just because of how near he was or if it was just him, not friendly anymore, but just staring him down, serious and silent.

"That sentence was written by my predecessor," said Tai-Yang. It was very difficult to tell what he was thinking, especially not being able to keep an eye on him for too long. "The former Cold Fury, Haoyu Wang."

A pause, almost endless. It was as if every second was running in slow motion. His heartbeat was the opposite of that. It was beating hard, fast, and loud like the hits of chopsticks on a drum set.

When the silence ended, Tai-Yang's words caught him off guard.

“You are a truly interesting fellow.” He mused, starting to circle them all. “A symbol of unity, even though you disappear so easily, a freer, a… mystery,” he paused, “and you want to go against your species…”

“Yes,” he caressed Archie, feeling how rigid he was on his legs, probably not enjoying how the Vampire was moving. Which made sense. It was just like how a predator moved around his prey. Not a reassuring thought. Still, Instinct was not poking at him. It did not seem to him that Tai-Yang was that bad. Not feeling sudden drowsiness or choking on his blood was already a good point to add.

“I already am at war with a few of them. Doesn’t matter which race is, if destruction and slaughter are their primary goals, then they are enemies of mine,” he paused, “I’m not invincible. And I’m no leader, either. But I’ll try to fight them anyway when the time comes, if I'm not able to change their mind first.”

Tai-Yang stopped walking and stared at him deeply. He could feel his eyes bore on his face, almost trying to look under his skin. Almost trying to find all his secrets. "Follow me, Hisirdoux," he then ordered quietly.

Douxie did not let him say it twice, getting up, feeling a hint of curiosity stir in his stomach, taking the place of the previous anxiety. And letting the Leader take him where he wanted to go. Hoping that he wasn’t trusting him too much.

********

"There is a drawing of the Keeper of Balance now," Blinky said, making Claire stop staring at her hand and raise her head suddenly. 

He looked young, too. And very, very skinny—probably underweight—with a slightly bent posture. He looked peaceful, but kind of sick. 

His brown, almost black hair, was long, to the point that, even tied up, they reached his knees. His clothes, similar to those that Xia had been wearing by form, were light yellow. 

He had his hands raised, too, but instead of a skull, he was tightening his fingers around a book, with a small Golem on top of its pages. It almost resembled a robot.

Claire stared blankly at him. "He looks… Unique," she said, not knowing exactly how to define him. "Definitely not how I imagined him to be, though," she chuckled a little. 

‘ At least he doesn’t seem mean?... He doesn’t look cold, uptight, or utterly detached in his know-it-all vibe .’ 

That was good enough for her, at least for the moment. 

“Unique, indeed,” Blinky commented. “Not the type of human-looking being that you see around the streets.”

Claire giggled a little. "No, he isn't," she said. She remained there for a few more minutes, utterly silent. Then she breathed in and out, returning to get up and to stand beside the window with Aaarrrgh. 

There wasn't even a hint of wind, to the point that the garden seemed to be completely still. But it was really beautiful to look at under the light of the moon.

Chapter Text

TRACK 16

The world I love, the trains I hop

To be part of the wave, can't stop

Come and tell me when it's time to

Wait a minute, I'm passing out, win or lose

Just like you

(Can’t Stop- Red Hot Chili Peppers)

********

The Vampires were a bit too many for Jim's taste. 

Even though the guards were keeping them at a distance, persuading some to turn on their heels and thus lessen the crowd, there were many of them still. And there were even apparent children in the crowd who were eight years old or younger—who in reality were probably much, much older than that. Maybe even older than Jim himself… and it was more than possible that they saw him as a child, no less—that they were leaning out to get a better look at them, always wearing makeup and always dressed far too elegantly. 

It was strange. It was disturbing, though Jim could not understand why he perceived it in such a way. Maybe it was always because he didn't see the Vampires in a good light, but, no, as a motivation it didn't convince him at all. It was almost an excuse in the face of perceiving his stomach fold in crossing—even just casually—large, seemingly innocent and tender, but all too intelligent eyes of infants. And yes, children could be intelligent even if they were small, but in this case… it was different. 

It was as if they had knowledge and wisdom, control over themselves, over their movements, that they should not have possessed if they were normal children. 

'But they are not. They are not normal at all. They don't have to play, eat, sleep, or go to elementary school.'

Jim, more to avoid de-concentrating—or focusing too much on one part of the 'stage'—shook his head slightly, returning first to the gazes, then to their hands, to the position of their bodies, to the expressions to which he gave glances before moving immediately to avoid staring, then to Toby and finally to listening. Listening to the inside of the building where Douxie, Archie, and Steve had disappeared into. 

It was not that far from him. He had tried to stay in the direction of the threshold, even suffering cold and vaguely annoyed looks from the Guard who had blocked them before. But even trying to increase his proximity to the inside of the building, absolutely nothing could be heard.

"I don't know if I'm telling you something you're already aware of, but ... magical creatures tend, for the most part, to live among themselves in large groups for a reason," Douxie said. "It's not just because it's easier to survive. No, I can assure you it's not just because of that. The Loners hide better than the Covens. They don't have to protect anyone but themselves and are not bound to stay in one place or with their group. Running away alone is easier than running away in thirty or more, right?" 

Jim had barely nodded, his eyebrow arched in slight confusion at the speech. He hadn't been able to figure out where the Wizard was going with this and what exactly his role in the whole situation was attached to it.

"The main reason is that magic tends to connect with other magic. Whether it's through simple relationships, forced proximity, contracts, tattoos, etcetera etcetera," he had waved his hands a little. "And sometimes it can expand an individual's abilities, even if the said individual does not realize it. Or has problems distinguishing it with the normal sensations and emotions. It becomes more apparent in times of high tension, however." 

"Unity is strength?" Jim had asked, not even being that surprised. 

"Unity is strength." Repeated Douxie with a nod. Then he had pointed to the two Trolls and Claire. "Ever felt strange or exhausted during a situation, only to get up again as if you weren't that much tired anymore for a few moments, just because of the presence of one of them?..." 

Jim had opened and closed his mouth, letting him continue. 

"...Or of feeling every part of you scream 'danger' in case one of them had been in it… and for no apparent specific reason, counting that maybe you hadn't even noticed it beforehand? In big fights, it doesn't work that way, because everyone would be in danger at the same time and it would be chaotic, not helping anyone, but… Still, it would serve to coordinate each of you as much as possible."

Jim had opened his eyes wide, looking at the raven-haired boy with shock, struggling to formulate a decent sentence. He had more than one small flashback appearing in his memory. It had happened. It really had. He had always passed over it, though. 

He had seen each event more as a psychological boost than anything else. Only the one of 'danger' during breakfast before the explosion and the fight with Nemain had seriously caught his attention. This because it had been something to which he had been unable to give plausible reasons. 

"Is it because of that?" He had asked, almost gasping.

Hisirdoux had nodded once more, his expression serious. "Yeah," a big deep breath. "Trolls usually call it 'Individual Magnetism' if I'm not wrong." he shot a look at Blinky, almost for confirmation.

The Troll nodded a little "Hard to feel it most of the times, especially since it gets under the current of intents and emotions, but yes. Individual Magnetism, it is."

"Well," Douxie paused, "Funny for some to say, or rude enough for others to change its name... it's generally called 'Herd Instinct.' That's because it works mostly on other people's ability to understand and feel what happens around them, cataloging it as good, neutral, or bad. But expanding it, especially towards the 'Pack' of other magical creatures."

He had been silent for a couple of seconds, letting him assimilate the information before resuming the conversation.

"It only works within a certain distance. Not with whole miles of separation or else I wouldn't even need the Rune of Connection for the two of you," he had wrinkled his nose a bit. "Emotionally it can also be found in humans, although there it is only empathy, solidarity or a strong connection for self." 

"But I had feelings like that even without being a Half-Troll..." Jim murmured, slowly. He had been human when he had felt something deeply uneasy churning inside his chest before Vendel's death—but he had mistaken that feeling for something else, as… Well. He had been on a trial. And then he had been thrown down the Deep. 

"For the Amulet," Douxie had tightened his shoulders and paused again, staring at an unspecified point. "Merlin's Magic is in there. Some of Morgana's is also in there," he had frowned for a second but then had shaken his head. "The Magic of the Stone Core of which it is composed is in there, too and the Armor itself is pure magic, because of the enchantments engraved on the metal itself. To the point that, well, you could say it is essentially alive." He had looked him straight in the eye. "When you read the incantation, its Magic became yours, as your feelings, desires, and thoughts became part of it. An exchange to fulfill a role, whether wanted or not, but still an exchange."

Jim had remained silent, calculating more and more what he had said. Then he muttered a soft-spoken "Okay" before inhaling and exhaling. "So I should be able to sense if you're in danger if we were to be split up..."

"I don't know," had immediately replied Douxie, leading him to arch both eyebrows, to which the Wizard had hastened to elaborate. "Knowing it exists is already an important element in the beginning, so letting you know the existence of such an ability was necessary. But I doubt that in our case it already works. Maybe not, in fact, it's almost certain to be a no, because not enough time has passed, but..."

"But it does," he had replied, his brow furrowed, interrupting him and tearing a puzzled expression, this before he had blinked and tilted his head, looking at him as if he was delirious or something.

"Pardon?"

"It works," Jim had said with conviction, leading him to open and close his mouth, showing clear confusion.

It had been Jim's turn to explain, recapitulating the morning's events, with Claire also adding herself to the whole conversation and giving him her version of what happened, saying she had felt it herself, not on one occasion, but twice. When she had finished speaking, Hisirdoux had stared at Claire and Jim with a lost expression, casting a glance at Archie who had shown just as much shock. 

"Is that so weird?" Jim had asked, unable to ignore the bewilderment in both of them.

"Counting that it's been less than three days? A little," replied Archie, almost appearing uncomfortable for a couple of seconds. "With some of the members of various Covens we've met, the average has always been a week, almost two to get even a hint of Herds Instincts if they didn’t reject us first. And there have always been quite a few tense situations..." a pause. "In my and Douxie's relationship, it has been less, but we are a completely separate thing and it works differently, so to give examples with us would be kind of stupid." he had paused again, sniffing and waving his tail. "It should be nothing short of impossible to take such a small amount of time."

They had been silent for several seconds. 

“Maybe it’s because of the Castle? It’s full of magic,” tried Douxie, staring at the dragon.

“That… Could actually be it… But that means that every magic being felt it.”

"Blinky, did you sense the, uh, Instinct this morning?" Jim had therefore asked, turning to face him. 

Blinky had shaken his head "I'm afraid not," he had said, appearing nervous. Then he had turned his attention to Aaarrrgh. He too had denied it, showing puzzlement. 

It had only served to confuse them all even more. 

"Maybe it has something to do with Mr. Magic Man?" Steve had questioned.

"What would Merlin have to do with this?" Claire had shot back, sounding partly unnerved. 

"I don't know, but he seems like the type who is involved in everything and more!" 

"In this case, no. He is not..." Douxie sighed. "Our Herd Instinct is still disconnected. We haven't been close enough to turn it back on," he had hunched his shoulders a little and shaken his head. "Whatever. We'll think about it later. Or do researches. Maybe something will come up. Anyway... It looks like we won't need another rune or magical object of some kind. That's better."

Jim had to listen to his instincts. Even just a hinted feeling of alarm—Hoping, of course, not to confuse mere concern due to the creatures themselves with actual danger. It was a far too new notion to him to feel natural. Naming it had been like giving it importance. And having to concentrate on making sure it worked was even more so—it would have led him to jump at it. To share the alarm with Claire

He sent a simple 'Everything okay here' to her, drawing a small circle on the back of his hand. To which the feeling of her fingers responded with two circles, slow and delicate, responding in an equally simple 'got it,' which almost brought a smile to his face. Almost, because the guard was still squaring him down. Jim went so far as to tighten his lips as much as he could.

"Don't do, number nine: Avoid looking suspicious. Always a matter of avoiding 'too much'. Too stiff, too soft, too calm, too nervous… things like that."

Smiling out of the blue for no apparent reason would have appeared suspicious. It was more than obvious as a thing. 

The silence was fueled by tension. A tension so heavy that it could have been cut with a knife. The way most of the Vampires stood, stiff, composed, and rather cold looking, was not helping one bit. 

Jim went back to look at Toby, who was trying not to show agitation, although that total silence seemed to be getting on his nerves a bit. He tried to give him all the support he could, without being able to pat him on the back or talk to him. 

Tobes returned his gaze to something fleeting. He appeared almost immediately straighter and more secure in his position, uplifted and grateful expressively. That was before he went to look again at one side and Jim at the other, the opposite side, hoping that the negotiations would end soon and well, though usually, they were two factors that clashed quite a bit.

They kept calm until one of the children suddenly was able to slip away from the body barriers that the Guards had created, dividing them, and ran in front of them.

********

‘Jesus Christ, how much does she intend to keep on eating?’ Zoe couldn’t help but think, staring at Badb while she quickly swallowed an entire bowl of Chirashizushi, before moving to a plate with several pieces of Nigiri, Uramaki, and Maki. 

She had already eaten six bowls of Ramen, two for each main type, two plates full of Sashimi, and many, many Oshizushi. And the Dragon Clouds. And the Soybean Noodles. Oh, and all the freaking Takos and Tamagos Sushi. 

‘Thank you, universe, that this is an All You Can Eat. To be this tiny, she eats like an army of starving men.’

Zoe wasn’t someone who ate little portions. No, she usually ate quite a lot, and sometimes when Alice was full, she tended to steal her leftovers—Or she did it to get her riled up because she was hella cute even when she was annoyed with her after being teased—but for fuck's sake, this Witch was a fucking food vacuum! She felt nauseated only at the idea of still eating after all that! 

‘Well, she said that she made a long journey…’ Ashildr ended up thinking after Badb finished the whole plate, raising her right hand to call the waiter, while the left hand grabbed the menu all over again, making both the Technomancer and the man—a simple human named Howard, who she was pitying quite a lot, especially since he looked ragged and hungry—sweat buckets of perspiration. ‘But this still seems fucking exaggerated. Almost worse than Naruto Uzumaki.’

Badb ordered again, asking for Tobiko and Kani Sarada sushi. Zoe, more exasperated than she would have liked, requested a coffee instead, hoping with every part of her that she wouldn’t end up asking for several desserts after everything. Or they were going to stay there for quite a while, even too much for her slowly receding patience… all the while, instead, her idea of throwing herself on the mattress and sleeping until 7:00 p.m was quickly fading.

Zoe sighed slightly and sent a few texts left and right, thanking Howard when he came with the small, sadly too short, cup of coffee.

********

Steve was somewhat tempted to say something. Anything, really, but at first he would have liked to protest about the fact that, what the heck, the freaking Creepers seemed way too fixated on stairs. 

First, there was Camelot, with its who-knows-how-many rooms, its three-billion hallways, and the absurd amounts of steps that popped up every time you laid your eyes anywhere, not even as if they were mushrooms. 

Now there was the secret refuge of the more than creepy—but he wasn't afraid, no, no, absolutely not, pffft, him? Afraid? As if… okay, maybe a little bit—Vampires, all of whom were so white that it looked like someone had taken an eraser and started deleting every trace of color they had reached. 

There had been stairs before. And in moving through that building a second time, trying to reach who knows what other room, there were more. The long, almost seemingly interminable spiral staircase composed of white stone and pieces of stained glass ascended in the direction of the ceiling with a steepness that should have been illegal—Who the heck was the crazy, totally insane buttsnack who had made them that way? 

So, yes. Steve would have wanted to say something. Like he would have liked to say something about the manner—for him quite annoying and blustery at times—of the Leader guy, whom he mentally nicknamed Mr. Eraser because he could no longer remember his name already. Not that he saw any particular importance in remembering it, counting that one of the no-nos was talking to him if he wasn't asked to do so, precisely. 

As much as he wanted to do it, as much as he wanted to mutter some sour comment, he was reminding himself between inappropriate thoughts not to. He had given himself a subspecies of mental order: Watch the bro's Dragon-Cat... Or the bro himself. 

The former worked more than expected, for certain looks Archie gave him were devastating—almost goosebumpy—but the latter was no less so. 

Doux had given him responsibilities, and he didn't want to betray his expectations. He really didn't. Steve wanted to be helpful.

So yes, as much as he wanted to say something, anything, he kept biting his tongue out of instinct. Not physically, although when Mr. Eraser had stood up and had been in front of him, he had almost done it for real.

When they reached the end of the staircase, he still let a sigh of relief escape, trying not to gasp and gasp again like the wolf in the Sword In The Rock movie. But failing, for it seemed almost as if the air in his lungs was gone. 

The stairs led to a trapdoor, which formed a part of the ceiling and which as soon as it was pulled down, showed six more steps—Again. Yes. Absolutely obsessed with them, it was crazy! What the heck. Damn, he almost couldn’t feel his legs anymore and his feet were burning—and that made reaching a huge room, similar to an attic, but larger than any attic he had ever had the opportunity to see—not that he had seen many, to tell the truth. Only the old man's, after he had separated from his mother, but before he had decided to ultimately leave. It had been when there had been fights over his custody and he had been unable to resist staying in their environment, ending up sitting on the small bed in the corner and trying to occupy his time with video games. Trying not to hear them screaming from below. 

That 'attic,' as opposed to the old man's, was occupied by an almost illegal amount of furniture—itself filled with books, old parchments, jewelry, and strange objects that Steve would have wanted to touch—from several bust statues, from paintings with photographs and portraits of very ugly guys, but with seemingly wonderful if always snow-white hair—who knows what shampoo they used!... Did vampires use shampoo? He had no idea. It seemed the answer was yes, to his mind, but he couldn't be sure. Still, from that side he envied them a little—and from a very old spyglass, left beside the window and a bulky globe.

Mr. Eraser paused in his advance in front of one of the paintings. Doux, meanwhile, was scrutinizing all the volumes with blatant interest, as if about to throw himself among them with open arms. Steve, on the other hand, would surely have been bored at the first dozen or so pages of the first manual pulled out. Reading was not an activity for him. School books were already torture, let alone anything else consisting of an avalanche of tiny words that were almost delirious and lost in futility. If he did not have to, he would have steered clear of them without the slightest sense of guilt.

Summing up very briefly, Steve very much preferred movies. Although certain ones had still been able to put him to sleep in their turn in less than twenty minutes. 

"Haoyu Wang was a less important Leader in the Vampire community, compared to the Phantom of Vienna," the guy's voice jumped up, going to gently rest his hand on the picture frame, almost caressing it. "... Are you aware of why he was called Cold Fury, Hisirdoux?"

His tone of voice was still absurdly annoying. Was it ever possible that the important people he had met always had something chafing in the way they spoke? Was this a necessary factor, like a rule in the power contract?.... Or was it perhaps just Steve who perceived them to be annoying, because they seemed to him to be getting off on it? Perhaps it was the second option, but he didn’t care. They looked and sounded stupid.

"You must excuse me, Tai-Yang, but no," Douxie replied, ever cautious. As if answering otherwise would lead him to set off a nerve in Mr. Eraser’s head. "I was not informed of that."

"Hmm." The Vampire went back to squaring the raven-haired boy and approached him again. He did nothing else. "I would have been surprised otherwise."

'Then why the heck did you ask, buttsnack? To slap his not-knowing in the face? For mere amusement? Are you mean for fun?'

"Haoyu was an amazing leader. Prone to goodness and loyal to all the rules of the Codex, even the most..." he paused, "uncomfortable ones. Anyone who broke a rule would suffer his wrath. But it was never an explosive rage. He never bled out or beheaded anyone in a fit of rage. He always chose more appropriate punishments, never getting emotionally unbalanced."

"I suppose he was well-liked," the bro assumed a slightly wrinkled expression. Steve did not understand the reason, but okay. Fine. He was in the 007 mode again. He was like a very pretty and smart model. And that seemed almost unfair. But, still, it was so freaking cool.

"Yes. He was. And his apparent apathy was an example to our whole Nest."

'And that's why they're all so frighteningly creepy, cold, and rigged? Yikes.'

Steve forced himself to look at Archie again. The Cat-Dragon was following the interaction with full interest, his tail flicking intermittently.

"Our amplified emotions have never been a problem for him. He has never seen them in such a way. And he pushed all of us to seek the best possible inner balance."

'Like a psychologist or something like that?.'

"...If I may, assuming it's not too much, could I ask what happened to him?" The bro asked, calm and collected. 

Mr. Eraser was silent for a few moments. "What do you think?" He asked, going to stare at him with his… his scary, very, very scary red eyes. Chilling.

It was Douxie's turn to be silent but for a longer amount of time than the Vampire. "Murdered, perhaps?" Another small pause. "By one of the Coven?"

''Huh? What? Where on earth did you get this information from?''

Steve gasped, staring at his friend, unable to hold back his shock. And receiving an equally shocked expression from him and the Dragon. From the Vampire himself, even.

Several seconds of total silence passed. It was with the three pairs of eyes resting on him and that distinct communal silence that he realized he had spoken out loud.

'Ouch.'

"Uh...Excuse me. Carry on as if I'm not here, really," he tried not to gesticulate, breaking into a cold sweat and keeping his hands down, firmly still to avoid doing something super stupid like accidentally touching someone's shoulder. "Sorry, again."

Mr. Eraser peered at him for a long time, keeping quiet. As luck would have it, he then turned back to look at the Wizard, ignoring him again. 

Archie's gaze instead remained on him, clearly saying something, though not clear to him what it was. A somewhat irritated expression. Silent, but irritated.

Steve mentally cursed, swallowing hard, feeling tense and still sweating coldly, so much so that he could feel chills all over his body. 

'Okay. Yes, Steve, bite your tongue, Steve. Mr. Eraser must not get upset. We don't want any trouble, no Sir. And we promised to be reliable.'

"Desolated. We all tend to be rather chaotic usually," said Douxie, letting slip a slightly strained smile. "Our lifestyles are quite different on this side."

"...I still remember my life as a human. I know how it can be." Mr. Eraser arched an eyebrow, but strangely smiled back, more relaxed. "I see a great effort to adapt to ours in you both," he cast Steve yet another glance, albeit a very quick one. 

"We are in your house. Showing respect is the least we can do," the bro continued to look, less confident than before, but the response he received seemed to take away at least some of the agitation. "Desolated again."

"It's all right. Your bodyguard didn't bother me. Just surprised me a little." He chuckled, then walked away from the painting at a slow pace in complete silence, approaching the bookcase and stroking the spine of a very old volume with a bright red cover. "In any case, about your thesis… murdered, he was. But not by someone from the Witches Lair." He paused, returning to stare at Doux without a word. "It was me who did it."

Steve gaped, feeling his heart drop.

'Wait, what?’

********

"You're a strange creature." The child observed, his eyes—similar to liquid silver, even almost white—fixed on Jim with total attention, while a wide, open smile stretched across his face, showing almost shark-like teeth, except for the four typical canines, two on either side. "Not a Troll, not a human, not a Changeling," a pause, in which he continued to square him. "What are you?" 

"Sir. Zhu, it would be better if..." the same huge Guard intervened again, more than determined to make the 'little' Vampire—an elder, counting the color of his eyes—get away from him. 

"Don't bother me, Atsushi. It’s annoying. I just want to talk," he asserted coldly, casting a reproachful glance at which the other barely stiffened, only to appear as before in the blink of an eye, merely keeping an eye on them, nodding his head. 

And then the elder returned to Jim, demanding an answer to his question. He had to give it to him.

"Half-Troll and half-human," he replied. 

The discomfort in Jim took on increasing a little more each second when he noticed that Sir. Zhu did not seem to appreciate what he had said, always showing all his teeth, but no longer in a smile—as terrifying as it had been… As it was at that moment, it was even worse. 

"Those are the Changelings. You're not one of them," he insisted, in the same tone as before.

"Magic made me this way," he found himself saying. "I'm half of both creatures, without being a shifter." Jim tried to speak as calmly and confidently as possible. His tone of voice came out perhaps a little too dry, but the Vampire did not seem to mind. On the contrary. 

"So you're a new unknown creature instead?" He went back to staring at him, starting to circle him repeatedly, his arms swinging back and forth with every step. "Did the Son of the Dragons create you?" 

Jim caught a glimpse of Toby nervously bringing an arm to the cape, but unable to move from the 'total defense' position, in which he kept an eye out that no one was trying to close them in any way, trapping them. 

"I guess so for the new creature thing," said Jim, not sure if he would appreciate where the talk was going. "But no, it wasn't—" It wasn't Douxie, he forced himself not to say. "... It wasn't the Son of the Dragons." The Nickname sounded weird out of his mouth.

"Too bad…" said Zhu, continuing to rotate around him. "It would have been interesting to talk to him about it, from Pure Scientist to Magic Scientist. Doesn’t happen often to meet one who has such an ability in creating something utterly different and new out of scraps. Do you happen to know where your creator is, then? Are they with you?"

“...No. I don’t.” He lied. Not even blinking. He felt kind of uneasy around this Vampire, more than with the others. And counting how he already felt, it was saying a lot.

He did not want him nearer than possible.

Silence fell for several seconds, in which the Vampire became pensive, but continued to move around him. 

"Can I taste your blood, then?" He asked after that pause, making Jim feel his heartbeat jump and speed up out of all proportion. 

"If you are an out-of-the-ordinary mixture, a magical experiment, your flavor must be quite intriguing. I've tasted countless amounts of species in my years, you are something new. I want to try you."

"Uhm… No." He forced himself not to flinch while answering. He tried to not show the slight fear and anxiety as a feeling began to push inside of him. It was the deep desire to leave. He could feel his heart rumbling in his chest and the term 'magical experiment' making him feel mild irritation. "I'm sorry, but no."

He wasn't sorry at all. Not even a little. He was far from being it. Just denying the request, though, would probably have brought the "child" closer to annoyance. And the image of his head detached from his neck was not pretty at all. 

The apology did not seem to improve the situation anyway, so much so that he seemed to increase the speed of the Vampire's pace, while his face showed an offended grimace. 

'... Not good,' he thought, ending up holding his breath involuntarily. 'Really not good.'

"I ask you again, experiment," Zhu said, bending his head and running his tongue over his teeth. A gesture to which Jim brought his hand to touch the beginning of his other one. 

"Can I?" The Vampire asked, his nearly white eyes seeming to glisten. He seemed more than ready to attack.

Toby came close to pulling out one of the stakes, his expression serious and angry. Jim, on the other hand, came very, very close to finally signaling the alarm to Claire, feeling his heart lose all rhythm as a chill continued to run down his spine. 

But the huge Guard—Atsushi, Jim remembered it—turned to stand in the way, placing himself in front of him like a human shield. 

"Sir, please stop bothering our guests. If you continue to insist, I will have to call Cold Fury to intervene to punish you in the most appropriate manner for the caused offense."

The older Vampire stopped moving around Jim and took two steps back, merely facing the other. He hissed like a cat at the last comment, the liquid silver glowing with anger. 

“I told you to not annoy me, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did, Sir. But I expected you to have a talk with them, not to endanger one of them. You don’t want the wrath of the Leader and of the Wizard to fall upon all of us, don’t you?”

Zhu hissed again, showing all his teeth again. Atsushi did the same, even though Jim couldn’t see him.

“I wasn’t endangering him.” Zhu snapped immediately, still snarling like an animal.

“You were, Sir,” Atsushi replied. “No type of harm will be caused to any guest. No blood drinking unless they offer,” a pause. “I would say if I’m not wrong, that he denied your request. You have no right to insist, nor to try attacking him.”

“They are invaders. They weren’t asked to come in.”

“No, they weren’t,” the Guard admitted coldly. “But they asked to be let in and the Chief accepted. They didn’t break any law.”

They remained silent for a while after that.

Zhu seemed to want to protest. Quite a lot, too. But he did not retort in any way. He merely narrowed his gaze and continued to stare at the other, trying to make him desist, but failing. 

He ended up giving up.

He muttered an irritated "So be it..." huffing, before walking away. He also mumbled something else, but it was not clear what because of the low volume and the distance that thankfully continued to increase. 

Jim managed to throw out the oxygen he had unintentionally held back earlier, then, when Atsushi shifted again, his back to the door and keeping an eye on him, he ended up making an instant little bow.

"Thank you," he said, taking repeated small breaths afterward. 

Atsushi did not respond at first, merely squaring him with the same expression he had reserved for him before. 

“It’s the rules of the Codex. No need to thank me,” he simply said, looking apathetically at him and sounding kinda rude. Jim chose to overlook it. 

Although he was somewhat sour—maybe the same feeling of distrust Jim had for his species was reciprocated, but on the Wizards’ side, counting the tone he used to call out Douxie… or maybe he was just kind of like that—that Vampire had just helped them. If they weren't fighting already or being forced to beat a retreat, it was only because of him. 

Jim went back to focusing on the Instinct, continuing to keep an eye on the rest of the Nest as well. 

He continued to perceive nothing out of the ordinary.

********

"Pardon?" Douxie blinked a few times, unable to hold back his shock. 

"I killed Haoyu Wang," Tai-Yang repeated, with a slight smile tracing his face. A smile that was not sadistic, but rather sad. "But you came very close, honestly. It was because of the Witches' Lair that I had to kill him myself," a pause. "One of his Wizards had... a quite singular talent." His jaw twitched.

"When..." Douxie could not help but frown, sensing a twinge of empathy for him. To kill someone you cared about, by your hand... It was something that marked you inside. Already doing it indirectly was something terrible; he could only imagine how the Vampire had felt. "When did it happen?" 

"Less than a month ago," he asserted, his gaze fading into the void as if he was remembering it at that very moment. "They had happened to be in the city and were trying to recruit ferals that Haoyu wanted to join the Nest," he clenched his teeth to the point where he looked like he would have broken them. "They made it more than clear that anyone who tries to steal their prey from them will not end well."

Douxie remained silent, not knowing how to respond. A simple 'I’m sorry to hear that' seemed stupid to say. He saw Tai-Yang pick up the Vampire Codex.

“My… My condolences,” he whispered anyway, even though that, too, seemed stupid to say for whatever reasons. Maybe because no condolences would help out to fade the pain away.

“Thanks,” the new Cold Fury said. "... If I had not eliminated him permanently, he would have only suffered more. The God of Death, Shipwrecks, and Darkness found it rather amusing to put him through the pains of hell."

Hisirdoux felt his stomach twist with tension.

'Dark magic, possible direct use, or otherwise, of one of the four Primordial Elements and... a natural talent for assassination via slow torture? Whoever this is, he is more than an enemy. More than a nemesis. And I doubt it will be easy to defeat.' He thought, ending by casting a glance at Steve and then Archie. 'I don't want any of them to go against him.'

"One of the rules of the Codex says that anyone outside the Nest who injures or kills a member of it will suffer the same fate." Tai-Yang went to open the volume, scrolling through the pages. "It would therefore be logical to join forces with you to take them down, accepting your offer of an alliance..."

Douxie sensed his heart accelerate dramatically. The hope bubbling up inside him struggled with a background of anxiety that he could not banish.

Although the sentence seemed to direct the speech to the positive side of the situation, he could almost feel a 'but' forming, burning inside his ears. 

"... But I won’t do it," concluded the Leader, closing the Codex. 

Chapter Text

TRACK 17

Don't look ahead, there's stormy weather

Another roadblock in our way

But if we go, we go together

Our hands are tied here if we stay

Oh, we said our dreams will carry us

(Disparate Youth - Santigold) 

********

He felt both Archie and Steve stiffen at the sentence. He did too, willy-nilly. 

'That's it. I was right,' he thought, tightening his lips. 'Blast me.'

"You won’t?" He asked anyway, managing to avoid a voice crack by a whisker. The reasons for that answer were a bloody mystery to his brain for the moment.

"I admire your determination, Hisirdoux. But as you have said yourself before, you are not a Leader," said Tai-Yang. "You don't know what it means to have an entire population expecting protection, order, and respect from you," a pause in which his red eyes stared back at him with the same silent study shown earlier in the red door room. "When Haoyu chose me as his successor, just before he died, I promised myself not to allow any of my people to end up like that. To suffer in the same way."

"... You are right." Douxie found himself replying, taking a small step forward in the direction of the Vampire. "I can't understand what it means what you find yourself facing right now. I can't understand what it means to receive such a burden. And I'll probably never understand it," he tightened his lips, a slight desperation going to cling inside his chest. "But as much as I'm not a Leader, I know what it's like to be terrified to see all the people I care about dead around me." He took in oxygen, then threw it out. "If it were up to me, I'd do it all myself. If I had the skills, I swear I would. But with them ? With their mentality and skills? With how many there are going to be of them?"

'Don't raise your voice. Don't raise your voice. Don't you dare raise your voice...'

"I am not a Leader, but my group and Nari of the Eternal Forest, although we are few in number, we are already in a fight against the remaining deities of the Arcane Order," he said. "There are only a few of us. Fewer than it would probably be best for us to be, but there was no time to ask for more people."

There hadn't been any at all. Merlin had given him a short time limit, and even just finding Steve, Toby, and Aaarrrgh had been a war. He was more than sure that if he had had more minutes, he would have been able to find someone else, whoever it was. Maybe Simon if he wasn’t working, even though he hadn’t been seen as a Guardian of Arcadia by Merlin.

"They are kids. They've barely started living. But they're not backing down. We're not backing down," a small pause. "And if we manage to defeat them, or make sure that they are exhausted enough so that they have no energy to fight back some more for a while, we would be left with them. They are many because they are trying to enlarge their ranks day by day. They have no qualms about finding the most painful methods to assassinate anyone who gets in their way, as you said. That would be a real suicide." 

"I think you're underestimating yourself…" he replied calmly. 

"No. I think you're overestimating me, Tai-Yang." Douxie rebutted. "I don't make miracles, sadly, even though Magic could be seen as one. One of the many, but most important reasons I'm still alive is that your kind helped me. Or else, I would not be here right now."

"Because you, in turn, had saved someone from the Vienna's Nest before. Saving you back was the least they could have done. The Vampire Codex would have not allowed it otherwise," a moment of silence. "I'm sorry, but my answer remains the same. I will not let any of my Nest get into this situation."

Douxie mentally cursed, frowning. 

"But who says they'll let you live in peace?" He jumped back up after a bit. Raising his voice a little. "Who's to say that, in case they win , they will wipe out every single human being from the face of the earth, they won't decide to skim the next creatures they don't like? How long will it be before the contempt and hatred will spread to other fronts?"

He clenched his fists slightly, feeling his arms tremble. A flick of Archie's tail hit his back, almost to tell him to calm down. He breathed in and out. "The reason why Bastian is seen as a legend is because he did not let the risks hold him back. He saw that the problem would get bigger and asked for my help of his own free will. If he had not done that, how many more magical creatures would have been captured and killed? How much longer would they have continued with what they were doing?"

"My answer remains a no..." said Tai-Yang, paralyzing him on the spot. 

Archie's tail gave him another tap on the shoulder. Then another. And another. Douxie was very close to blurting out something else, but with the blows he received, he forced himself to take another big breath of air and try to put himself in the Vampire's shoes, even though a good part of him wanted to let go of the reasoning and insist more, no matter the consequences. At least he would have done everything he could for it instead of surrendering. 

'He is new as a Vampire. He is new as Leader. He wants to see danger as far away from himself and his people as possible.'

Douxie swallowed hard, pushing down his anger and staring at his feet. The feeling of weariness and exasperation, of defeat took possession of him.

'We're back to square one. Enemies rising and zero allies.'  He thought. ‘Bloody hell.’

"...I say no for my Nest, though," Tai-Yang added suddenly. "This doesn't mean I won't try to warn the other Clans of what is happening. There will be a meeting next month, but I will ask if it can be anticipated," he said, causing him to look up in surprise. "If I had something for you to be contacted on or to be found, I could act as a liaison..."

"Oh," he blinked several times, the hope jumping back in while his heart speeded up a little. "Yes," a small pause. "Is the phone number okay or would you prefer a locator potions?"

It was Alice’s work. She was the best of the two at making location potions.

If he had been part of the Arcadia Coven, or any other Coven, he probably would have had a Soul Symbol for Summonings, too.  

"Both would be convenient," Tai-Yang observed after thinking about it briefly. And yes, he was right. Both would have been better.

He hurriedly ran his fingers over the runes on the bracelet. He made a small cruet appear in his hands with an agitated and quick sound. 

"Pouring the contents onto a garment or object, even a few drops, thinking about me while doing so, will bring it to me. If you pour it into a basin, you can directly see me, albeit in a limited way," he said, going to extend it to him, cautious not to touch him in the whole process. "For the cell phone, on the other hand..." 

Tai-Yang pulled out a phone so new that it looked as if it had just been taken out of the box. It looked as if it had never been used, especially counting that it was still inside a small plastic bag, a bag that the Vampire himself gently opened. The never-used thesis, however, was thrown out the window at the same moment he unlocked the screen with his fingerprint. 

Once he did that, he handed it to him, leading him to type the number into the address book. And inexorably to pull out his own, noting several unread messages that he promised himself to answer to once outside the Nest. This before giving it to him and waiting for him to do the same. 

 "I apologize for the rude attitude I had." he ended by saying, though a little with difficulty, blushing in embarrassment. 

He had been for every kind of standard. Had been another Vampire, the response could have been very different. 

"It was, a little." Tai-Yang agreed with him, still looking calm, while saving his number in his phone and giving it back. "But I understand that fear and anger can... cloud the brain sometimes. That's another reason why I can't let it sway me or get involved… or the desire for revenge would take possession of me. And I don't want to be bent by it."

'Yeah. The amplified emotions... Bastian had said it was hard to escape the route. And that the most dangerous one of all is wanting to kill someone because it approaches bloodlust.'

"I see. That makes a lot of sense…" he found himself murmuring, doing an instinctive bow. "My apologies again. I am very grateful."

Tai-Yang gave no immediate reply. He peered at him again and again, his brow furrowed, as if he wanted to say something but was unable to find the right words. "...Forgiven. I hope you can forgive me in return." 

"Yes. Of course," Douxie replied. "Couldn't do otherwise. It is already a lot."

He was still helping, in his own way. Hell, even though Douxie had been desperate for help, the Vampire had all the right to refuse him without giving him any explanation. 

"I have a gift for you. As thanks for visiting," Tai-Yang said, pulling him out of his thoughts and causing him to arch his eyebrow in mild surprise. 

Douxie gulped back a 'there is no need' before it could slip from his mouth. It was a friendship offering. And it meant a lot too.

‘Both of the Guarantees are a blessing right now, then.’

The Vampire, shortly after saying this, turned around. With his back to him, he went to approach one of the many pieces of furniture. After moving several books and letting his index finger run over the surface of the material of various objects, he seemed to find what he was looking for. 

"If it weren't for the probably unsuitable time of day for you, I would invite you to dinner with us," he asserted, going back to look at him and flanking him, extending a wooden box to him. 

Hisirdoux slowly opened the box, finding himself looking at pendants composed of large canines, some particularly sharp and all ivory white, attached to brown rubber cords. 

'Paralysis, poisoning, exsanguination, and cure, all in four canines. A wish for good luck, if given as a gift. And especially strong in potions with teeth as ingredients .' Douxie could even mentally hear Bastian's voice telling him the first part of the thought. 

"I… Thank you, again. I’m honored." He said, still surprised. He closed the box with yet another bow, hinting at another small smile. He paused a little, unsure if he should say what he actually felt the need to say.

He ended up speaking anyway. 

"I would like to give something back, but I don't know what you would enjoy… If there is something, you can ask for it."

********

Jim let out a sigh of relief when the trio was in the direction of the exit from the building.

They did not seem to have even a scratch on them. Three Vampires were escorting them, two who were the Guards, behind them and one with rather bizarre hair—and with a small smile plastered on his face, which was shocking—wearing kind of normal clothes, next to them.

He was talking about something—unclear, as he spoke softly and rather quickly—to Douxie as they moved in the direction of the door.

The raven-haired boy was reciprocating with a seemingly peaceful and contented expression while clutching a small box in his arms, just as Steve was doing with another one, a little bigger. 

Once they were outside, however, they both stopped speaking. And all the citizens and Guards bowed or knelt, prostrating themselves forward, as if they were before a deity. A fact that made it quite clear who the Vampire was.

Jim forced himself to bow in turn, and Toby did the same, his cloak shifting dramatically forward, showing a hint of the tip of one of the wooden stakes, but which the Trollhunter covered with a hasty gesture made on instinct, taking advantage of the fact that no one was looking at him at that precise moment. Fortunately .

‘Not to do number ten. Remember not to do number ten.’

"Get up, all of you," simply asserted the Vampire Leader. Everyone did so. "Atsushi, Lijun. Take the Nian and accompany the Son of the Dragons and the others to the exit."

"Yes, sir," they both replied in chorus, Lijun's feminine voice rising over Atsushi's cooler, lower one, immediately beginning to set off at a rapid pace, disappearing into the crowd with inhuman ease, even as they opened a gap with their passage, putting them all in such order that they looked like members of the army.

A few seconds later, Jim and Toby ended up getting closer to the group. Jim sensed Cold Fury's gaze settle on him with curiosity, then it returned after several seconds to Douxie, without asking any questions. The Wizard had already made both the small boxes disappear, leaving him and Steve empty-handed. 

"They'll be here in a little while," he said. "I suggest holding on tightly... And keep your hands on the saddle, she doesn't like to have her fur pulled."

'Holding on tightly?... She ? Who ?' He could not help but wonder, looking first at the Wizard and then at Archie in search of an answer. Neither of them gave any, but in front of his puzzled and confused gaze, Douxie was still smiling. And more energetically than before. 

So the question remained firmly planted in Jim's head until the duo returned, all the Vampires shifting even more to let them pass, forming two parallel lines. 

Jim gasped in shock when he saw what they had behind them, with two reins urging it forward, not even if it were a horse.

The Nian was a kind of huge red lion with scales, a single large blue horn in the center of its forehead, a very thick black mane, razor-sharp teeth—rather than seemingly lethal—and a tail from which a living flame came out. The kind Jim had seen in Charmander's design from Pokémon. On its back was a cloth saddle with a large wooden stirrup and three horns, two on the extreme sides and one in the middle. 

The creature was quite menacing to see. Especially because of its size and the claws, always blue, on its paws and just those long teeth.

'Oh boy...' he thought, unable to keep his eyes from widening. The expression was also very similar on Toby and Steve's faces. 

The two Vampires pulled her— it was she, the Leader had said before—by the reins until they brought her in front of them. Arriving, the beast sat down with a thud that made the ground shake a little. 

"There you are, Mingxia." The Vampire approached the Nian, going to lay a hand on its forehead, leading the creature to stick out its tongue—long enough to be scary, too—and lick the back of it. A few seconds later, Cold Fury stared back at the crowd that was still around them, murmuring things.

“My citizens,” he announced, loud and clear. "I ask you to go back to the Feast. I will join you later.”

The crowd took little to no time to obey, starting to disperse immediately, leaving only the Guards with them.

"You can pet her if you want, she is not aggressive.” Cold Fury said after a bit of silence. “As I said before, the only thing is to not pull her fur. She doesn't like it and it might annoy her. The Guards will help you as much as they can, later."

Jim was not one hundred percent sure he wanted to do this, quite the contrary. Part of him would have liked to answer 'No, look, we'll just walk, really.' and then duck out, do just that—trying to survive the full amount of stairs in the opposite direction—and get back to Camelot. Tired or not.

He was half surprised and half not—his smile said a lot—to see Douxie already move in the creature's direction to give her a little scratch under the neck after having his hands nuzzled by her, wrenching the Nian into a hoarse growl of appreciation, so deep that it seemed to Jim that it went through his bowels and that it touched something in his eardrums that had never been touched before.

"Such a good girl," he cooed under his breath—as if he was talking to a dog, not to a massive Lion beast—then going to turn his head in Cold Fury's direction, continuing to caress her. Archie meanwhile came down from his Mage's shoulder to sniff Mingxia and be sniffed back by her. "She is so beautiful."

"Isn't she? Haoyu had found her when she was just a cub," replied the Leader, smiling in turn to him. "You have good taste. She's part Dragon even though the Lion line is prominent, so I'm not surprised."

Hisirdoux smiled even more, almost childishly. Then he went to look at them as well. 

"Have no fear," he said softly. "Legends describe the Nian pretty badly, but they're basically like big cats." 

'That's a very, very big cat…' Jim thought. ‘And yours feel like an understatement.’

"If trained, at least," added Archie. 

"And she is," concluded Tai-Yang, “She never attacked anyone unless the past Chief asked for it. And she won’t, as I have no desire to hurt any of you.”

‘Well, that’s… good.’

Toby did so almost immediately, walking up to Mingxia with his hand extended in the direction of her muzzle, his gaze somewhat intrigued, and a smile that went to paint his lips a little more as he did so. Especially after petting her. 

"She’s so... Soft..." he asserted admiringly, going to look first at Jim and then at Steve. "Try it! It's amazing!" 

At this, the Trollhunter decided—albeit still a bit cautiously—to try to do the same, feeling stared down by the creature's large emerald green eyes as soon as he took the first step.

He did exactly as he had seen both boys do before him. He let her nuzzle him, feeling her hot breath collide against the center of his palm, then leaned it against her mane and—against all his anticipation—Mingxia allowed herself to be petted by him, too, even going so far as to rub herself repeatedly against his fingers. Kind of like Jim had seen Toby's grandmother's cats do with the legs of furniture. And like Archie did with Douxie. 

As Toby had said, her fur was so soft and smooth! It was nothing short of a delight under his fingertips. It looked as if she had recently been washed, because of the flowery scent she gave off. 

After Steve in turn attempted—soon after Jim had taken to stroking the Nian in turn—he caught a glimpse of the Leader casting a glance at Lijun. The female Vampire Guard nodded and jumped nimbly onto Mingxia's saddle, going to grab the first of the horns.

"Go ahead and climb up," said Lijun, extending a hand as an aid in Hisirdoux’s direction.

"Thank you, m’lady” he responded, making the Vampire stare at him with a weird look on her face before biting her own lower lip, showing the teeth just barely. 

Douxie grabbed her hand and mounted, albeit in a slightly slower and more calculated manner. As if he wanted to make sure he would not slip immediately after trying. 

He imitated Lijun shortly after. Jim grabbed his hand and climbed right up, the wood of the stirrup pressing hard against the sole of his shoes and feeling all the powerful muscles of the creature beneath him once he sat down. 

In turn, Jim helped Toby, who ended up behind the second horn. And Toby helped Steve. Then, closing the line, up went Atsushi. 

"Hope to see you all again," Cold Fury said. "Please remember the promise you made."

'What?' 

"I will." Douxie immediately responded, lowering his head just a little. “Thank you again for your hospitality.”

Lijun gave the Nian a gentle tap on the hip with her hand, grabbing the reins in unison with the other one, then stroking her head. 

Mingxia began to move soon after. With every movement she made, the muscles tensing and relaxing could be fully felt by Jim.

She started with a slow advance, but soon Jim found himself having to hold on to the saddle, as she became so fast and agile that he seemed to risk falling at every turn. 

The Nian reached the stairs in no time. Once there, she even jumped several steps in unison, whether they were upward or downward.

Jim heard Steve make a high-pitched sound during a jump downward. He turned slightly to be sure he was okay, but he almost risked slipping to another abrupt move of the creature. 

He was held back by both Toby's arms and Archie, who bit the edge of his shirt while flapping his wings and staying just upon Douxie's shoulder. The Wizard, on the other hand, turned as a result and held out his wrist to help him regain a more stable position. 

In doing so, he in turn risked slipping down due to yet another sudden up and down. He managed to avoid it by a whisker, grabbing the fabric under them. 

"Bloody hell," he commented, still surprised. 

After a small moment of shared shock, they all chuckled out loud. And started laughing more with another brisque movement. 

And in the blink of an eye, they were at the bottom of the bridge, in front of the gatehouse. 

Douxie carefully climbed down from the saddle. He left a few more caresses for Mingxia as Jim cautiously dismounted in turn, feeling both the gaze of the two Guards on him and the impact of the journey build up more than he would have expected. It had been rather fun, but it had left him with a sour body, a feeling similar to getting off a plane after a long journey. This one had been pretty short, so it was kind of surprising. 

Toby, while he was doing that, moved forward, clutching the middle horn of the saddle, and Steve waited for him to dismount so he could do the same. 

Jim reached the ground safely, moving backward a few steps, and staring back at the male Vampire guard. 

Tobes, on the other hand, risked dangerously slipping while trying to place his second foot on the stirrup, leading them all to become alarmed and both the Female Vampire and Jim to react promptly. 

This prevented him from taking a tumble but still caused him to make several hurried and agitated movements, in which he had clung to the saddle as best he could until he was able to dismount altogether. 

In the process, however, the cloak he was wearing had opened and slipped mostly behind his back, still on him thanks to the small string connected to the neck of the pelt and that was around his shoulders… leaving though in perfect view the belt with the thirteen stakes and the vervain bomb dangling from the chain.

'Oh no…'

********

The reaction was instantaneous and explosive. Both Lijun and Atsushi came down from the Nian with fury flashing in their eyes, both of them in an attack stance and showing their teeth. Mingxia, on the other hand, thankfully just stood still where she was, beginning to lick her paw, though she continued to study the whole thing with her big emerald eyes.

Douxie, Archie, Jim, and Steve instinctively stood around Toby, as close and defensively as possible, ready to be attacked at any moment. 

Hisirdoux held his hands out in front of him as if trying to offer a white flag to the two, feeling a slight cold sweat run down his back and his pulse quicken. "Now, now..." he said, barely swallowing. "We should try to calm down, shouldn’t we?"

"You came in here armed," asserted Atsushi dryly, with venom that seemed to drip from every single letter he uttered, starting to advance as if he were the one part lion and not the Nian. "Anti-vampire weapons in a Nest is like asking to be beheaded on the spot."

"Not having them would have brought as much risk," he found himself saying, trying to sound accommodating, leading the Vampire to hiss. He heard everyone except Archie stiffen on the spot. Douxie tried in every way possible not to imitate them and at the same time not to take a step backward, also forcing himself not to immediately create a barrier. 

If they had seen him tinkering with the runes, they would have thought he wanted to attack them back, and that would have only made the whole situation worse. 

"You have a vervain bomb," blurted out Lijun, equally venomous, thinning her gaze with something extremely dangerous inscribed on her face. And advancing in turn. 

"Yes, we have it," he admitted, trying not to mentally curse, because, yes, as much as it was the best for getting enemies off his back, it might have been better to avoid it. "But it wasn't meant as a voluntary offense, just as a means of communal self-defense." He retorted, continuing to try to sound calm and not with the tension that was flooding him everywhere. 

'It was obvious that something had to go wrong, sooner or later. With Tai-Yang everything went all too smoothly, despite my way of acting... And nothing ever goes right, so maybe I should have expected that.'

His tension joined the faint perception that he felt from Archie.

"None of us wanted to use weapons against you, and none of us still do," he cast a glance at the others, hoping they would understand that this was not the time to draw an ash stake, even if it looked like one. 

He took a small pause in which he then went to shift his gaze from the first to the second Guard, seeing them stop advancing in their direction, though they appeared no less threatening. "Regarding the vervain, it was extremely unlikely that we would make use of it in any kind of situation." 

This time it was Atsushi who hissed. "You have a lot of nerve," he commented. "You come in uninvited. Moreover, you do it with weapons, hiding them and announcing that you don't want to use them. Just to save your skin."

"For the lack of invitation, I have already apologized and explained myself to Cold Fury," Douxie said, raising his head. "For hiding the presence of the weapons… it was because we knew there would be no positive reaction to the sight of them."

"You Mages are bastards. All of you." The male Vampire spat out acidly, resuming moving forward again. If he had moved faster, well, that would have been a real problem, but fortunately, his gait was still within normal range. "Double Faces, always pretending to be in the right, only to strike back at the most opportune moment."

"No, I don't claim to be right," Douxie said in complete honesty. "If I were also a Vampire, I would probably understand your point of view fully instead of only partially. But I also know insecurity and a basic instinct of preservation, mine’s and those of who’s around me..." 

'...Although Archie claims that my own is quite scarce,' he thought and stopped himself from saying. 

"I am sorry to have shown such rudeness, but the prospect in the worst-case scenario was not pleasant. For any of us."

"We have rules," said Lijun sourly, even though she stopped Atsushi, going to gently grab his wrist. "And a code of honor."

"I am aware of it. My Familiar and I have lived with the Phantom of Vienna long enough to know it," he replied, taking a big deep breath. "But not knowing anyone among you, starting with your Leader, did not help to improve my initial point of view. I repeat. We did not want to offend in any way, only to feel more protected. Both in the case where your Leader did not have enough control over some of your members and in the case where, unintentionally, I ended up annoying him." 

'Which fortunately did not happen, and, hell, that was a true stroke of luck...'

"Are you accusing Cold Fury of leadership weakness?" Atsushi snapped. 

"No.” Douxie quipped, firm, and collected. “Quite the opposite. Especially for being in his early years, he's doing very well,” a small pause. They seemed less upset at this. “But precisely, not having known him beforehand and not having known the last Cold Fury, I had no definite judgment to base myself on." Another small pause, feeling the need to breathe properly. It was so fuzzin’ warm in there! "We are extremely desolated," he then concluded, immediately bowing in a curtsy, his arms entirely attached to his sides.

So did all the Guardians, at which he ended up holding all the air inside his lungs and waiting ten seconds, feeling each of them proceed with frightening slowness. That was before he pulled himself up, anxiety making him feel a lump in his throat and an insane desire to bring his hand to Archibald's fur. Or to his own neck.

The female Vampire seemed to narrow her gaze again, looking partly suspicious, but already more in a cold and not furious way as before. 

Atsushi, on the other hand, squared first him and then Jim and Toby, at length, his expression betraying several hasty emotions and his lips parting only to close and tighten hard. The Guard seemed to want to say various things, but he was using every little hint of resistance he possessed to avoid spitting them out one after another.

"They deserve to be killed," said Lijun in the other's direction, noting his silence, leading Hisirdoux to feel yet another shiver run down his spine. "Or put in court to decide the most appropriate end." A small second of silence, in which the second Guard fully reciprocated the attention given to him, before the first, in turn, laid eyes on Douxie—specifically on the Nari’s Guarantee—Jim and Toby. "But because of the attitude that Sir. Zhu has shown towards them earlier... I think we should get over it." She said the last part through clenched teeth, as if it was costing her years and years of life. Still, she said it anyway.

He cast a very quick glance at Jim and Toby in silent questioning, before returning—hopeful but without opening his mouth—to the two Guards, awaiting the final verdict. Archie did the same just over his shoulder, his fur still partly raised and his ears pulled back, though his tail no longer showed all the previous nervousness. Little perceptions of his tension continued to run through Douxie. 

"Get over it?" Repeated Atsushi, his tone somewhere between shocked and annoyed. "We gave them the benefit of the doubt and there was a possibility that they might have decided to kill someone among us for no reason!" 

"They didn't," Lijun's voice came out flat as her light pink eyes settled on Douxie, serious and calculating. "They were going to leave, now. Isn’t that true, Son of the Dragons?”

"Yes, m'lady." Hisirdoux immediately replied. 

"Cold Fury should be the judge of their exit," insisted Atsushi, piqued, casting a generic glare at everything and everyone. 

"Cold Fury should not be bothered yet again. He already has enough to shoulder," the female Vampire let go of the other Guard's wrist, answering him with a soft look. 

Then she started to advance until she was at a minimum distance from Douxie, just as Tai-Yang had done before.

It was almost as if they did not know what personal space was, even though the whole concept of 'no touching' clearly existed. Perhaps it was an attitude to put them in fear of the Nest itself. Vienna’s Vampires did not do that.

Douxie made an effort not to move on this occasion as well. Archie instead leaned against his shoulder, resuming his tail wagging, while the other three continued not to be particularly distant from him, as they were not from each other.

"Do not mistake this gesture for approval, Wizard. The Leader may like you, but in case you re-enter our Nest armed a second time, we will not mind skinning you alive, bleeding you out, dividing your corpse into pieces, and feeding your flesh to the Nian. Same thing for your friends. For this time and this time only you are excused. Is that clear?"

"Yes, m'lady," he had answered immediately once again, forcing himself not to grimace or respond badly. That she was picking on him, fine, he probably deserved it. That she was picking on others, he was not fine with it. 

The image had been quite detailed and had not been appreciated at all. And Archie had been all too close to snarling, something clear especially from the tension inscribed in his body and the hints of irritation that flowed out. But this—like the possible angry expletives Douxie had avoided exposing, really with difficulty—would only have risked making the situation worse again, just in their being almost free. He didn't want it. None of them wanted it. 

The female Vampire nodded, then turned sharply. The movement almost brought Douxie to receive Lijun's hair in his face.

She returned to Atsushi at a brisk pace, then went to point at Mingxia with her head. 

They both climbed onto the Nian's back in the blink of an eye and stood staring at all of them in silence for a few moments. 

Atsushi, after the silent examination, huffed. "Go away… before we end up changing our minds." Having said that, he showed all his teeth again and glared at them. 

They all jumped at the chance, setting off in a hurry without being told twice. Toby adjusted his cloak on himself as best he could, returning to cover everything. 

They thus returned in complete silence to the bar room, with Toshi still there, intent on serving a citizen—definitely drunk—who was humming a melody between hicks, with most of the notes out of tune. 

They greeted the bartender with yet another small bow, receiving it in return. And after a series of moments in which they could not help but cast glances over their shoulders, they were finally out. 

They all took a big breath of air as soon as the magic door—a blatant symbol of the past connection with the Mages—closed behind them. The big inhale and exhale, however, brought yet another gust of stench into their nostrils, to which they all found themselves amidst disgusted expressions, plugging their noses and having coughing fits.

"Well..." he said in a whisper, more to himself than to others, trying to ignore the pestilential smell again and the shiver that ran on his own body. "It's done."

"That was sooo terrifying, oh my gosh," asserted Toby, visibly pale in the face, bending over his legs and trembling a little. “Oh my gosh,” he repeated. 

"Everything okay, Tobes?" asked Jim. Both Douxie and Steve got near to him, too.

He nodded, pulling himself up slowly and wiping the sweat from his brow. "Sorry for… You know.”

“Not your fault,” Douxie said, frowning a little. “Told you, they get offended easily if you involuntarily strike a nerve. And, yeah, perhaps we should have avoided the vervain bomb, so that’s on me.”

Toby stared at him, frowning back at him. “Are they all like this?" he questioned in a low voice.

"Count that they were checking themselves out," said Archie. "They were offended. But not so much that they didn't allow us to give explanations. They could have been a hundred times worse. We’ve been lucky."

Douxie winced a little, agreeing with him. 

They had come out alive, whole, and without being totally hated, even though the male Vampire Guard's disdain had been blatant. 

“We should get back,” he said instead, raising his head to the sky and staring deeply until he could see the very blurry shape of the Castle barrier. It made his eyes burn a little. 

“Yeah. We really should. I want to sleep so bad, now.” Toby said, yawning shortly after.

Returning to cover their heads with their hoods, they started to walk away, looking for a part of town from where they could take flight and thus return to Camelot without giving too much away. 

Hisirdoux could not help but cast glances at the others as they proceeded. 

'Perhaps there would have been less risk if I had asked for a carriage instead of exalting myself when Tai-Yang had offered us to ride the Nian,' he thought. 'It would certainly have lessened the chances of...'

"By the way, getting on the Lion-Dragon thingy was crazy cool!" jumped up Steve, breaking his thought entirely. "Although I didn't like the guy that was behind me."

"You would have fallen if he hadn't been there, Steve," Jim observed, smirking in the blond boy's direction. 

"Hey! Don't look at me like that! Look, you were falling too! And same thing with him!" the blond gesticulated, moving from pointing first at Jim and then at Douxie repeatedly. 

"It wasn't hard to do so, counting how the Nian was running... But it was your yelling that almost brought me down..."

"I don't think this is the right place and time to get into a playful banter," jumped up Archie, looking around him as Hisirdoux remembered the messages on his cell phone, going to hunt for it in his pocket. "Let's go back to Camelot first."

The screen of the phone shined under his nose and showed various messages. There was even a missed call. 

When he opened one of the chats, Ashildr's, he couldn't help but arch his eyebrow, stopping moving and staring at the phone with surprise. 

'Zoe, 03:08: New arrival in town. Text you ASAP.'

'Zoe, 03:22: She said her name is Badb. Creepy as hell and doesn't convince me, but oh, well. No random judgments at first meetings, okay.'

'Zoe, 03:23: I don't know whether to take her to the Lair or not. Still, she eats fucking tons of food! Like, seriously. You should have seen her!'

'Zoe, 03:25: I just wanted to warn you, though. I hope everything is going well there. And that the bird of ill omen is not enslaving you too much.'

'Missed call from Zoe, 03:40'

'Zoe, 03:41: Sorry. Clicked by mistake.'

'Zoe, This message has been deleted, 04:20.'

********

"We shouldn't have let them go," said Atsushi dryly, leaping off Mingxia once they were back in the West Wing Cave, then letting himself scan the water with a highly annoyed expression inscribed on his face. 

"Maybe," admitted Lijun, still riding the Nian, going to stroke her between the ears. "But I'm beginning to think that if the Son of the Dragons wanted to see us dead, we would be dead already. Both of us. And not just us."

Atsushi barely huffed. " I'm starting to think we should add a Guard at the entrance to better control strangers. Your former suitor didn't do his job properly."

"That Wizard is a symbol. And in some ways a legend. Toshi must have gotten caught up in the excitement and stopped thinking…" a pause, in which she made an odd expression. "Then you try checking for weapons on a Mage. He made two boxes disappear inside his strange bracelet in the blink of an eye, I wouldn't be surprised if there was an armory in there. It's weird enough that we found the human with the stakes and the vervain on him."

"Exactly. All the more reason why we should have taken him out." He gritted his teeth, anger, and contempt churning in the center of his chest. "We should have gotten the anti-magic collars. Stop him from doing as he pleased."

Lijun let slip a sigh, partly exasperated. Atsushi looked at her with an unconvinced expression, and she immediately replied with a smile, albeit one devoid of mirth. 

"You're still angry." She said, An obvious statement, but meaning something else entirely. 

"And you’re not?" He found himself retorting acidly, stiffening on the spot. 

"Yes, but I don't shift my anger to every single individual I don't like," her gaze settled on the Nian. "It doesn't benefit anyone."

New anger exploded in Atsushi's chest, such that a series of quivers of fury shook him from head to toe, almost suffocating him from within. He wanted to start screaming. To break objects. Even break the neck of the female Vampire beside him, whether she was his sister or not. 

He forced himself to turn around and take a big deep breath, albeit still shaking. 

The mental image of blood splashing on the ground still flashed behind his eyelids. He could smell it—the only smell they perceived in a way that was above the norm, due to the extreme predator instincts that led them to easily distinguish one individual from another—and its sickening sound on impact, accompanied by the heartrending screams that had followed.

He remembered his breathing, gasping, as fear had coursed through his veins and atrophied his muscles. Fear that had gradually turned to shame at the realization of his actions. Or, more to the lack of them. Shame that had then, inexorably, turned in turn into a sharp, irrepressible hatred. Partly dedicated to himself, partly to Wizards in general... But it was mostly in the direction of that damned bastard and his comrades. 

"It doesn’t benefit anyone…" he repeated, savoring the sentence and turning partly toward his sister, continuing to try to keep control over himself, even though his blood had risen entirely to his head. A good part of himself also wished he had resumed hissing. “Benefit?”

"Cold Fury said that we will not take revenge," Lijun said in a flat voice. "And although I do want revenge, I think he's right. We are in a fragile situation, the Codex can be ignored for this time… so no, it doesn't benefit anyone. Especially not to you, brother."

"Your mouth is spewing nonsense, sister," he growled.

"No, not at all," she retorted, maybe a little upset. "I'm not blind. I can see it's eating you alive. And I'll tell you again..." She purposely sought eye contact with him. "It wasn't your fault."

Atsushi decided—at that precise moment, at those precise words, with yet another wave of anger and bloodlust that quickened his breathing—to get as far away from her as possible. 

He did not want to hear her say another word. Not even the smallest, quickest one. He could not bear it. 

He, therefore, started to move away from her, first at a slow pace, then gradually speeding up more and more. His sister's voice murmured his name in a disgruntled and pained tone as if she did not want him to leave yet again, but Atsushi ignored her. 

He didn't even know where he wanted to go exactly, but he didn’t care about that, either. 

Part of him was asking him to look for the Leader and try to push him to seek revenge, but Lijun was right about that: they were in a fragile moment. Throwing themselves into a bloody confrontation against Mages—against fake Deities, according to some—would only decimate them, worsening their status as a Clan. And Atsushi did not doubt that another Vampire Clan—maybe one of those closest but inferior to theirs, with whom they had a strained relationship—would have tried to encompass theirs to gain influence at that point. 

Another part of him would have wanted to go in search of the Son of the Dragons to kill him by his hand, to throw off a hint of his frustration, hoping for the relief and breeze due to the adrenaline rush he felt after a hunt… Or to spy on him.

Yes, perhaps the second would have been more useful, if less satisfying. It would also have been less harmful if it had been discovered. 

Instead, the latter part of himself wanted to run until he ran out of energy, headed for his rooms, break something, and then throw himself into his bed, ignoring whether the impact would break the bed boards or not. It was not bedtime, but he had previously refused to participate in the Feast. It seemed to him nothing short of insulting and useless even at that moment.

Atsushi ended up, after a couple of seconds, choosing the third option. So, he started running.

Chapter Text

TRACK 18

Hide away where you're safe

Where your heart doesn't break

You're afraid, it's okay, it's okay

Everybody's scared so dance in the dark

Da-dance in the dark, da-dance in the dark

(Dance in the dark - AU/RA)

********

Claire could not help but throw the balcony window wide open in a rush when she saw a dark silhouette appear not too far in the distance, which flew toward Camelot at great speed, making itself easily recognizable.

Immediately she hurried down the stairs, albeit being careful not to slip because of some wet steps. Aaarrrgh and Blinky were further behind her, but not by much.

Archie landed quietly. The four boys—apparently intact and without even the smallest scratch, thanks the Lord—started to dismount. This allowed him to return to his original appearance in the blink of an eye, letting himself fall back into the arms of his own Wizard—perhaps out of fatigue, perhaps not—confident that he would be taken back on the fly.

"How did it go?" Asked Claire immediately, passing her gaze over everyone while talking.

"We were in danger of being killed because I unintentionally broke Rule ten," replied Toby nervously, slightly sweating. "But since an elderly Vampire with the appearance of a child threatened Jimbo earlier, they decided to let it slide."

Claire paralyzed herself on the spot, taking a couple of steps in her boyfriend's direction.

"You didn't tell me anything," she said, frowning and tense, in part almost offended by the lack of information.

"Another Vampire got in the way before I sent you the signal," Jim replied, barely smiling at her. "Nothing serious happened."

"Well, about that, anyway..." Douxie jumped up, leading them to turn in his direction. He had his arms crossed and his head tilted, while Archie was climbing slowly onto his shoulder, staring at Jim in between. "What exactly happened?"

The question made Claire frown even more, but only for a moment. She fully understood its meaning after it. 

'So, they were split up,' she thought, opening and closing her mouth, not letting a single sound escape, returning to stare at her boyfriend, wanting to know the details, too.

“He wanted to know what my blood tasted like... Because I'm a new kind of creature." Jim said, frowning. He looked slightly distraught, to which Claire grabbed his hand, squeezing it in a silent support, and bringing him to do the same in turn as a grateful answer looking at her softly right in the eyes. "But… Yeah, in the end, the Male Guard stopped him."

"I would have stabbed the little guy if the Guard hadn't done so," blurted out Toby, showing irritation. "Oh, he has to be relieved I didn't get to lay my hands on him. He really has to...!" 

Jim smiled at him, resting his remaining hand on his shoulder. "I couldn't have had a better defender," he said, then returned to Douxie and Archie with his gaze. "In your case, however? How did it go?"

"The Leader refused," replied the Dragon dryly, The sentence froze everyone in place except Douxie and Steve. One of the two simply nodded, while the other barely moved from one foot to another.

'What?’ Claire gasped like a fish out of water. 'All of this work and danger and he said no?' 

"Gone badly?" asked Aaarrrgh before the girl could more or less ask the same thing—even if a little more articulated and exasperated. The Troll sounded only a bit worried.

Both Toby and Jim looked at Douxie with quite confused looks, staring at him as if he had just lifted the earth from under their feet. 

"Was it Steve's fault?" Claire found herself asking after a couple of seconds, leading the blond boy to look at her with a visibly scandalized expression and his mouth moving a little as if trying to join disconnected sounds without even knowing what answer to come up with. A little after, visibly red in the face, he finally managed to coordinate something he must have missed earlier. 

"Wha... Don't blame me, okay? I mean, I did what I could, although honestly maybe I could have done even better, but… Seriously, it wasn’t my fault!"

Claire made an unconvinced expression at him. Steve looked back at her, offended.

Douxie shook his head and smiled. "No, it didn't go wrong… and no, Cold Fury’s rejection was not Steve's fault. I think he's one of the reasons the Chief went soft on us," he said, catching most of them off guard, including the blond. Just like when he had allowed him to come in the beginning, but maybe even more than before. 

"He hasn't been irritated... Simply his Nest is not in the best possible condition at the moment." Hisirdoux shrugged his shoulders, pausing. "He said no, that’s true. But he is going to communicate the situation to the other Nests, and if they decide to help, they will be able to get in touch with us without any problems."

"Oh... that sounds like a more than adequate substitute option," Blinky quipped thoughtfully, bringing one of his hands under his chin.

"Yeah," Archibald adjusted his glasses on his snout, then cast a glance at his Wizard that had a hint of amusement in it. "And you know what that means?”

Douxie raised an eyebrow, staring at his Familiar in confusion.

The Dragon made a weird throaty sound. “It means that you'll have to accept every single unknown call that comes into your cell phone. Whether they're spam or not."

‘Ah.' Claire snorted a bit. 

Hisirdoux blinked a few times and then groaned, bringing a hand to his forehead. "Oh, fuzz me. I hadn't thought of that detail." He tightened his lips, his expression annoyed and his nose wrinkled. "I hope Tai-Yang will tell me something after their meeting, so at least I can prepare myself."

"...What were the boxes you had when you left, though?" Jim intervened, taking a small step forward. "What about the promise he asked you to keep?" 

'The Leader was able to wring a promise out of him?’ 

"Ah. Yes." His bracelet lit up again and after a quick search, he made two boxes appear in his hands. "A good luck present..." he opened one of the two, showing canines, leading Claire to look at them, not knowing exactly whether to feel shocked to know that teeth were being seen as augury or not. She was definitely in shock, however, when Douxie opened the second box, showing numerous small paper packages that... That was... 

"Tea filters?" The stunned question instantly escaped her lips. 

‘Tiredness is perhaps playing tricks on me?’ she wondered to herself, almost slapping her face to wake herself up a little.

"Peach Tea, yes," he cheerfully agreed with her. Douxie then made both containers disappear. 

"...Why?" she asked, still dumbfounded. 

"I just wanted to know where he got it, since, well, while we were having our chat he offered it and it was really good," he said, chuckling. "But then he dumped the whole box on me and, you know...." he shrugged slightly and made a pause in which he returned serious, setting his gaze on Jim. "For the promise... He simply asked me to visit them a second time before or later, if it’s possible with all the chaos going on. And to stay longer instead of just a couple of hours, like a real guest. He would be happy to meet Nari, too, but that’s on her, of course."

"I wouldn't do that if I was you," Steve asserted with a grimace. "Not after the Corpse Woman described our bloody murder in detail."

"He can't do it," retorted Claire, though she couldn't ignore a subtle shiver down her spine at the comment made by the blond boy. Goosebumps made her grab her arm. "Rule number seven, remember? They hold grudges against those who break their promises. Unless they are dead already." 

She remembered the list of the Do Nots perfectly, even though she hadn't been involved in the end. It had taken only five rounds of common repetition to bring her to memorize all ten of them.

"Ugh, that's right," the grimace on the blond boy's face even worsened. "I don't want to be skinned alive, bled out, and fed in pieces to the pet Lion-Dragon. Big affectionate cat or not."

"To what, now?" Claire's voice became extremely shrill. 

She did not know whether to be frightened or weirdly intrigued. Frightened because of the creepy general description of death, intrigued because she just couldn't imagine a mixture of the two named creatures. 

"The creature's name is Nian. As he said, it’s a creature that is half Lion and half Dragon. Mostly a lion, anyway," replied Archie, sniffing. And he seemed to sense Claire’s curiosity and total lack of knowledge about the magical animal. "If you give me a couple of hours I can show you what it looks like. It's very big, so I need more energy to replicate it."

"Uh... Okay,” she said. “No problem. I'll wait. Thank you." Claire smiled at him.

“You’re welcome.”

********

Douxie pressed the call button, bringing the cell phone to his ear. The beeping sound repeated once, twice, three times, and Ashildr still hadn't responded to the call. 

'Come on, come on, pick up,' he thought, nervously tapping his foot on the floor and repeatedly running his hand through Archibald's fur. 

The recorded sound repeated several more times, then the call dropped altogether. 

'Seriously, Zoe?' Skepticism and mild anxiety began to rise as he stared at the empty cell phone screen with wide eyes. 'You're always attached to the phone and when I want you to be, you're not?' 

He repeated the previous process, taking a big deep breath in the process. It rang, so the phone was on. 

'Maybe she's at the Hex Tech?... No, wait, what time is it now in California? Maybe she's sleeping.'

The call kept ringing and not being answered at all. It shut down again just a little later.

‘Bloody Balrogs,’ Douxie mentally cursed. 

And he cursed even louder, this time out loud, when he remembered that the internet line did not work. Of course. And that even trying to open Google would end up with staring at the search page, while the Chrome Dinorunner would pop up—He had never been able to get beyond the pterodactyls. Zoe had always found it far too tedious. She always said it was a waste of time and energy, not a proper game, especially because you couldn't win it. You could have a record, but the true ending was after seventeen million years! That was weird as hell.

Frustrated, he sent a normal message to the girl, hoping that at least that would be sent. It did, albeit at an inhuman effort and so slowly he almost lost his patience. 

'Hopefully, the new Witch is a newbie and not connected to this whole thing... ' he thought, taking a big deep breath. 'What the heck, though. She can't just send a message and then delete it for no reason. I mean, it could have been that she got it wrong counting that she called by mistake before, but... '

Worry continued to rise in his chest, replacing the mere hint of anxiety earlier, but he tried to put it aside. Nothing was definite. It was not said that she was in danger. Nothing was said.

That didn't change, however, that he was going to give her a piece of his mind once—If, whispered a small part of his brain. And no, against the Hercules quote, he did not enjoy the if—Ashildr had answered. So much more than a punch to receive for ditching her out of distraction and sending a vague and unclear message, still apologizing.

Honestly, Douxie wished he could have split himself into two at that moment. Or even split himself into three. That would have been kind of convenient. One of the three would have stayed in Camelot, one would have returned to Arcadia Oaks… and the third would have allowed himself to take a beach vacation to avoid any hysterical breakdowns—He still doubted that Third Him would take that vacation anyway, however. He knew himself well enough to understand that there was a possibility that he would find a new activity with which to keep himself busy.

Douxie deleted the thought—the image of finding three of him in the same place was as comical as it was terrifying. He didn't know if he could bear it, really—and he mentally calculated whether he should try to call the other Mages right away or postpone it to a slightly more decent hour. He thought about it for several seconds, then decided to text them and put the ringer volume back on, in case, indeed, someone called him after reading the message. 

With that done, he went back inside the room, seeing most of the others lying down. A good portion of them were well immersed in dreamland, not a surprising thing counting that it was 5:18. Toby, however, though yawning, was still awake. 

"What are you doing? Why are you still up?" He asked him, partly surprised, his voice being reduced to a whisper. 

Toby struggled not to let slip yet another yawn even while trying to answer. "It's my watch," he said, though his tone of voice showed weariness. "How did the call go?" 

Douxie shook his head. "She didn't answer..." He let himself fall back on the mattress, the book of Daoist Magic leaning against it, being in front of him. It almost seemed as if the object was looking at him. "Leave it for the guard shift, Archie and I will take care of it." 

"But..."

"Toby," he interrupted him, still in a low voice. "You are exhausted. You said so yourself, just before we went back to the Castle. You should rest."

The boy's eyes stared at him—or tried to stare, counting as his eyelids seemed to be getting heavier and heavier, blinking repeatedly to chase away sleep—for a few seconds, his brow slightly furrowed. "Aren't you, too?" 

He shook his head again. "I've already slept three and a half hours today. Seems little to you, perhaps, but for me it's not. Plus, I still have all the adrenaline on me and the caffeine from the tea in my blood. All I need is a cup of coffee and you can see me jumping around like I'm on stilts."

'And I couldn't sleep properly anyway even if I wanted to, if the other nights are truly on something, but alright.'

Toby let out a small chuckle. "If there shoul' be 'ny problems..." he slurred on the words a little. 

"We will wake you all up. Cross my heart." Douxie said. Archie, on his shoulder, nodded.

The boy seemed to think about it for a moment or two as if trying to retort with something.

"...Okay," he murmured eventually, however, hinting a grateful smile and laying down on his side. In a couple of minutes, if not less, he had already succumbed to sleep and was lightly snoring. 

Hisirdoux, barely smiling, therefore returned to the book in front of him. He then went to put his cell phone down next to the volume and looked for his headphones. He put on one, just like the night before, before everything degenerated with Nemain's situation. Hopefully, something similar wouldn’t happen again.

The playlist—on shuffle—started after a simple click on the headphone. He didn't even need to peek to see what song it was. The short six-second introduction consisting of a heavy snare drum and guitar rhythm betrayed itself all too easily, widening his smile even more. 

Elvis Presley, Jailhouse Rock. A perfect song to keep the brain active, although it was a bit of a waste to hear it from only one headphone instead of both. It was one of his favorites, although it was hard for him to define the title of the one that was actually at the top. 

Restraining himself from humming under his breath, he opened the Daoist Magic book. Up to this point he had read less of it than he would have liked. He had barely gotten through the study of banded magic—found in about thirty pages or so—and begun the detailed distinction of what was seen in the category of Wugu and what was instead seen as Bái mófǎ—about ten of a very packed list. With the pages of each magic argument just near it.

It honestly did not surprise him to find Tulpiturgy and Animamancy in the list of Dark magic, but Blood magic in its entirety? That one a little bit, yes. 

If it was Siphoning or the practice of Leaching that extended to killing the subject on whom the spell was cast, he could understand that. But there were many more layers to Blood magic than just those two. 

There was the Localization. There was the Empowerment. The premonition of the future. The protection and purification of his own or other people's blood from toxins, the exchange at the medical level—although he had never seriously tried, partly because it was difficult and painful. And it was more likely to fail than succeed—and the harnessing of some of the raw Mana of which he was composed… to unconsciously create an internal surface shield, to prevent the Burnout from going into further stages—worse than the one he had found himself in that morning—and somehow raging, damaging the body or the soul as a whole. 

His blood was highly charged with magical energy. It was abnormally charged, Master Merlin himself had told him shortly after taking him under his wing. It had been his answer to the question of 'why me and not someone else?' that Douxie had asked after one of the first long, heavy scoldings that he had received. 

There had been who knows how many Mages who would have liked to become apprentices of the Great Merlin Ambrosius, perhaps even more talented, more intelligent, and less prone to screw-ups than him.

Douxie had been just one among many, one who had already had the frightening luck of finding himself a Dragon Familiar. But he had had a higher-than-normal Mana and that had led him to become his Apprentice, apparently. Not anything else. 

He couldn't help but wonder if his Master had regretted choosing him just for that. And a good part of him answered almost instantly that he did, even though he wished with every fiber of his body that he didn't. It was difficult to believe, but he hoped anyway. The most stubborn part of him was trying so hard to hang on to that thread of hope, hoping that it would not end up breaking. 

In any case, the study of Runes, with Metaphysics and Elemental Magic applied and connected to them, was his leading Magic. And Blood Magic had always been extremely connected to the Runes, which was why he had always applied to it, despite all the negativity with which it was looked upon. 

The whole Norse myth of Odin, of the Yggdrasil—which he did not know whether to connect to the Nemeton or to think of it as a different tree, though their functions on some sides were very similar. Still, maybe not enough—and of the Runes that had arisen from blood sacrifice were witnesses to that close connection. 

Douxie in turn felt that subspecies of invisible red thread of pure magic when he yielded part of his essence to give life to a Rune. He could feel how his Magic rose in volume, evoking more notes, and more musical instruments at the same time.

So yes, it was not a kind of skill he would deny to himself. It was stupid to do that. But to look at the book and to find himself partly in the list of Magic they saw as the dirty one... It was kind of like getting kicked in the guts every single time.

'Magic does not define a person any more than a person defines magic. Neither does the judgment of others.' He forced himself to remember for the umpteenth time, shaking his head and wrinkling his nose, keeping his hands still on the pages. 

Radiomancy was not on the list of Dark Magic, although perhaps it should have been. Same with that of Toxic Magic. Nor was the Magic of Undoing, which although was extremely rare—just like Healing Magic, Shadowmancy, and… Well, each that was declassed as Divine Magic—and not so aggressive—unless you wanted it to be, but wasn't that the case with almost all types of Magic, after all?—was far too close to Anti Magic collars for his taste. 

A sigh escaped him and he ended up turning numerous pages of the list, trying to chase away the annoyance while mentally humming. Then he peered at the long, almost endless list of magical creatures, among which precisely the Nian appeared, put in the dangerous-neutral department. Where, by the way, non-hybrid Dragons were also found, in general. 

Remembering how Archie had torn Doctor Y to shreds, he could not blame who wrote that book one hundred percent—even though he had done worse, in some ways. He had deserved it—and bringing to mind the legend of Charlemagne the Devourer, he could give him even less, at least in that. But he did not venture to wander into the pages mentioned by the list.

He was more than sure that he would end up angry if he tried, music or no music. And just the idea of making his mood worse was able to take away some of his desire to read. Fortunately, he was able to get over it.

'Maybe it's better to move on their main way of enchanting... Rituals, Alchemy process…' he ended up thinking, flipping quickly through until he reached the topic he sought.

He gave yet another caress between Archie's ears before resuming reading, tearing his Familiar a new purr, though his eyes were pointed out the window in near full attention. 

Bubbles of tranquility, however, were reaching Douxie with greater impact, lingering in him deeply. Definitely a good sign. Perhaps soon they would be able to read each other's minds again. And, even though it could be a little destabilizing at times, at least it wasn’t going to be disturbing like the first time that that happened, barely in the 1800. 

It had been so, so weird. Made jump both of them at least four times per day before they had grown accustomed to it.

********

Alice pulled herself up upon hearing a new tinkle of the phone—two, to tell the truth—immediately reaching toward the nightstand and pulling the lamp cord to turn on the light. It was soft, orange almost, like a sunset… and very pale. 

The witch wanted to avoid involuntarily hitting the ceramic vase there beside the bed, something that had happened almost three times in the early days of her stay in Greece, mainly due to Miss. Emerald—whom she honestly would never stop thanking at this point. It would be hundreds of years before it happened, and just for the trip. If you then counted that the woman wanted to teach her about Lithomancy, since she judged her to be quite talented, she probably wouldn't have stopped at all. 

Alice got to her feet, moving behind her ears a few strands of blond and light green hair that had been pinned to her face, and shuffled around in the direction of the electric socket, being careful not to strike the shifting plank, always risking to make her fall facedown to the ground. Then she grabbed her cell phone, blinded by the bright beam that came straight at her eyes.

'Ough. Turn down the brightness, dummy,' she told herself, letting a small groan escape. And going back to squinting at the screen once her eyesight had adjusted enough. 

Part of her would have expected to find two or more messages from Zoe, counting that she was the one who usually texted her at odd hours, but she was half surprised and half happy to find text messages from Douxie instead. She opened the chat.

'Munchkin, 00:31: 'Ali, please tell me that Zo' is answering you and that to me she's playing the MIA card because she's still upset about my last moment trip. Or because of sleep and work issues.'

Alice had to read the message twice to make her brain gear and understand the phrase. Reading and getting properly the meaning of what she was reading when she was tired, well, it was hard as hell.

'Munchkin 00:32: And could you tell me what time it's in there and when maybe you're available for a call?' 

Alice found herself arching both eyebrows so much that she felt her skin pulling.

“What the flip?” she barely whispered.

'No,' she typed, unplugging the charger from the phone and returning to sit on the mattress. She crossed her legs, letting her elbows weigh against her thighs, her hair moving back into her face. ‘She answered me. Dunno about your case, retry later perhaps.’

‘It’s 00:33 here by the way, and I’mma be up at 4:00 a.m bc Miss. Emerald wants me to meet two Coven Mages, friends of hers. And the journey is gonna last for two hours. So, plz call then? If you can.’ She wrote and hit send. And going back to move all her hair because it was frustratingly getting in her eyes again. ‘I wanna have all the sauce,’ she then added, trying not to yawn and ignoring how her eyes were slightly watering.

The response arrived almost immediately, making the phone tinkle again.

‘Munchkin, 00:33: Fine with me. Call you then. Go to sleep, Wondergirl.’

She snorted a little and grinned at that, shaking her head. ‘Hypocritic much? Ya sleep less than me. Your eyebags talk. Eyeliner doesn’t cover them. Plus, u texted me.’

‘Munchkin, 00:34: You answered, though.’

Holy Crap. He got her there.

'Yeah, yeah. Flip off. I'll sleep now, 'kay? You're such a smartarse.'

'Munchkin, 00:34: Thanks for the sudden compliment. Well, night-night.'

She rolled her eyes. Then she sent him a moon, a sleepy face emoji and a simple 'GN.' 

********

The darkness was still present and heavy. Jim found himself turning over on the mattress once again, looking for a more comfortable position. There didn't seem to be one. Or, at least, it seemed to be one at first, when he positioned himself in a specific new way which made the mattress feel softer, but then it seemed to become uncomfortable again, leading him to move from left to right several times. Almost rolling in it.

He lay on his stomach, trying, hoping that this time was the good one, but nothing. Absolutely not. Upon getting on his back, a little later, he not only found himself uncomfortable again but even began to feel tense. The reasons were unclear. A small thought about the Herd Instinct hit his brain but disappeared just as fast.

He, therefore, sat up, finding himself staring into the void. The total blackness before his eyes was almost abnormal, but Jim could not explain why this, either. It was as if something was missing, but he had no idea what. 

He looked at the others, seeing them all peacefully asleep. All lost in who knows what dreams, completely still. All of them were… Far too still and silent to be normal. There was not a single sound to break through that blanket of silence.

Jim, in passing his gaze over each of the people present, then found himself staring at a brown moth entering the room. If he had been tense before, in seeing it—though always not knowing why—he sensed his anxiety rising to the heights. It was a meaningless feeling, especially since he had never feared insects before, but there it was. And it did not seem to be willing to leave.

He followed the moth with his gaze, seeing it flutter in a circle a couple of times before going to rest on Toby's neck. Jim got to his feet, immediately wanting to chase it away, perhaps to get it out the window, or to squash it directly. But in the attempt, as he approached Toby, he immediately ended up paralyzed on the spot.

The moth had disappeared into thin air. In its place there was a thick black liquid running down his best friend's jugular, eventually dripping onto the mattress. It came out from a hole in his flesh that was becoming bigger and bigger very, very quickly.

Jim could not help but open his eyes wide, the terror making his heart sink. His blood turned icy inside his veins.

"Tobes!” he cried out, "Tobes, wake up!" he started shaking him, first trying to be gentle, then with greater intensity, increasing as the seconds passed, even ending up screaming, although his voice sounded somewhat choked. "Tobes!"

Toby did not move from where he was. He did not open his eyes. He remained motionless, as if… as if he were dead. 

Jim's heartbeat lost that hint of more or less steady rhythm he had previously possessed, although it had been already somewhat rushed. Upon noticing that Toby wasn't breathing—despite how much he shook him, despite how much he kept pressing his hands against his chest—he let out a sob, his eyes beginning to burn.

"G...guys!" he shouted again, going to turn to the others, shaking all over. "Guys, wake up! We need to help him...Tobes is not… T-tobes is…"

A second moth made its entrance into the room, making his voice die in his throat. Jim barely had time to see it flutter past him; this one had immediately flung itself at Blinky’s sleeping form. 

A choked cry—a mixture of his name and a simple chewed sound—slipped from his lips as he got back up, more than determined to crush the insect this time, but finding himself faced with a situation almost identical to the one before. 

The bug was gone. But Blinky , still motionless, became a white pure rock under his eyes. And went splitting inexorably, every piece of him scattered on the floor. He did not even have time to recover from the horrible sight—This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. It couldn’t be true, what the hell was going on —that a third and a fourth moth reached Aaarrrgh and Steve just as quickly.

With tears sliding down his cheeks and a single, choked, and gurgled sound that slipped from his lips, not even if he was missing air, he watched them follow the fate of their predecessors without being able to do anything to stop it. 

Pain, fear, and astonishment exploded inside his chest. He was shaking so hard that when he tried to get up, he ended up slipping and falling on the floor with a thud, adding more pain to the mix, which whitened his entire brain all at once.

His mind, after a second, came up with a single, utterly terrified ' Claire...' in which he immediately got up and sprinted forward in the direction of her sleeping figure, hoping to be able to stop the process of carnage that had continued to unfold—because he had to save her, he had, he was the Trollhunter, he could. He could—but suddenly the scenario had changed. 

He was no longer in the room. The bodies were still there, but they were no longer in the room. Claire was awake, standing and staring at him with a scared expression, one of the moths already resting in the center of her chest.

'No. No, no, no. It's not possible, no!'

"Jim...?" she asked, her voice quavering, almost in a whisper. 

"Claire!" he shouted with all the air he could find in his own body, his heartbeat rumbling in his chest and the tremors increasing to the point that everything seemed to be shaken by an earthquake.

Jim tried to remove the insect before it could get through. He really tried. But he failed at that, too. And with all the horror in his flesh, he found himself staring at the big black hole that began to form in her skin, with the liquid gushing out of it as the light disappeared from her eyes a little at a time. Her breathing stopped. His own did the same, to the point that he felt like dying.

Claire almost fell backward. Jim barely made it in time to catch her on the fly. 

She looked like a porcelain doll in his arms: cold and fragile, ready to split at any moment if he even tried to make a sudden movement. Her eyes were staring into the void, empty and lost.

He wailed louder. Whimpers kept slipping from his mouth while he desperately caressed her cheek, moving a few dark brown strands.

‘No… Please…’  

Tears almost prevented him from seeing, but he still managed to notice yet another change of scenery when he slowly raised his head, trembling and wheezing. 

They were in Arcadia Oaks, in front of the Benoit. They were because all the bodies were always there with him… even though suddenly Claire was lying on the ground with the others—Even though he didn’t let her go, his brain didn’t register it. 

A realization docked in his mind instead. Distraught enough as it already was, he only caught the little information that jumped into it, ignoring the rest of the odds.

Between all the bodies of the group that had to protect Nari, someone was missing. Two members. Or four, actually… but two from Arcadia Oaks. Two that could be found here.

Jim could save at least one. Possibly both of them. He had to find them. He had to… he had to succeed. He couldn't be so helpless. He could not accept it.

But where were they? 

The Bistro was empty. It was empty and closed, not even the shadow of a customer or worker. And the darkness continued to be so thick that almost nothing could be seen. There were no streetlights either.

Jim found himself running around, speeding up as he went, trying to wipe the tears from his face. The more he ran, the more he did not know where he was going, because the streets no longer seemed to make logical sense. He was not in the square. He was not beside Benoit. He was no longer anywhere . The only place that could have been called a landmark had disappeared into thin air.

Everything was black. Everything was nothing . He was running, but he could not tell the difference between the ground and what in theory should have been the sky above him. 

He ran and it seemed to him that he was stuck in place because no matter how much he seemed to be moving, nothing seemed to change.

When he saw Douxie’s figure, he saw it from behind and in the distance. It was almost blurry, almost too far away to be reached, just like it almost seemed as if it was about to disappear, being slowly swallowed up by all that blackness. It was almost a miracle that Jim had seen him.

He shouted his name, quickening his own pace. He screamed his name in the hope that he would turn around, but he did not seem to hear him at all. 

Anguish and something else that Jim could not recognize kicked in his chest, prompting him to scream again, continuing to move forward as fast as he could. The distance seemed to be shortening, making his figure already much more visible than before. 

He, therefore, shouted his name one more time and saw him freeze in place. He turned slowly, but his gaze, though he had been looking for him, seemed to pass him by. As if Jim was not there. As if he had not been looking for Jim , but for something beyond him. 

A new moth peeped into the scenery, literally crossing Jim from side to side, flying in his direction. New fear exploded again inside him, roaring, while time seemed to freeze.

Douxie stretched out both hands, cupping them, almost accepting the arrival of the insect.

A high-pitched, shouted "No! Don’t!" emerged from Jim’s lips, leading the raven-haired Wizard to look up and lay his eyes on him for real this time. But the moth already rested on his fingers gracefully.

"Why are you screaming?" he questioned softly, a twinge of liquid slipping from his lips. He was smiling, staring back at him, making the dread pool inside his stomach. "Wasn’t this what you wanted?"

“What?” Jim choked out, his voice coming out in several different tones, one after the other.

More black liquid began to drip from the other boy’s nose and eyes as the moth dissolved. 

“Having me disappearing.” Douxie simply answered, still smiling.

Jim, who opened his mouth again in a mixture of confusion and horror, wanting to retort, found himself seeing him get entirely enveloped by the liquid, leaving a fully black human shape and nothing more.

Before he could do something, anything, the ground beneath his feet suddenly turned liquid itself, leading him to scream again, and fall deeply into it. The substance was going everywhere, assaulting every single inch of his body.

It was all pitch black. 

Chapter Text

TRACK 19

Keep on dreaming, don't stop breathing, fight those demons

Sell your soul, not your whole self

Oh, if they see it when you're sleeping, make them leave it

And I can't even see if there's hope there anymore, so

(Afraid- The Neighborhood)

********

'Having a Candle of Babylon would have been much more comfortable than that,' thought Nemain, swallowing hard and cursing mentally, especially as she sensed yet another gust of icy air crashing down on her, in addition to the one that was already doing the same thing almost constantly while moving. ' The deficiency of those Masters who kept their secrets and made them almost unobtainable... The deficiency of those who set fire to the scrolls with the instructions that had been created. The fucking deficiency. Dickheads, all of them.'  

Donn's flying motorcycle—fortunately covered by the invisibility spell. More than once he had forgotten to enchant it, raising the odds of getting noticed so fucking much, the moron—was much more comfortable than a broomstick or a magic board. Or even a Snowboard Scrabble. Or one of those flying glass elevators. But as much as it was, it did not shelter from the cold, unfortunately. 

Had there been Chimeras, she would have sheltered with the fur of one of them while riding it, but no, she no longer had them. And the effect of the warming potion she had drunk before leaving had long since worn off, so it was up to her to freeze her ass off in the middle of it all, gritting her teeth and pretending that nothing was wrong. Pretending not to feel the air scratch her from head to toe every fucking second.

The temperature in Sacha was so cold that she was partly amazed her skin hadn't turned blue yet. It was definitely all reddened—especially on her cheeks—but not blue. As much as magic did—both in the antibody department and everything else—when faced with such a situation it could do little else. 

Nemain let out a frustrated little snort, leaning her head against the Wizard's back in front of her—the adrenaline that had arisen after removing the collar was gradually swarming away—tightening the fabric of his jacket with both hands. The material was heavier than her cape but not much more than that, and… it still wasn't enough to shelter them from the wind blowing from the North. 

'I hate the snow,' she thought. 'I hate this shitty cold weather. What a shitty world.'

"Should we stop?" asked Donn suddenly without turning his head, causing her to barely flinch at the question.

After slipping out of her moment of shock, she replied. "We have to travel for sixteen hours," she said, almost in a whimper. In speaking, the Witch wrinkled her nose, struggling to finish the sentence without chattering her teeth despite how hard she tried, white smoke drifting from both her nostrils and mouth. "We're nowhere near halfway through."

"Yeah, we aren’t, but… I don't know about you, but I'm tired. I've been on the road a lot, so getting some rest would be nice. And starting again with a little more warmth in my body wouldn't hurt," he asserted, pausing briefly. "Maybe we can find something better for you to wear."

"Shut up," blurted Nemain in an offended mutter, moving her hands from the other man's jacket practically instantly, taking them to her white cape, barely caressing it with her fingertips. 

She had been stupid before. So fucking stupid. She shouldn't have thrown it and kicked it to the ground like that. She shouldn't have just done it. Not in a fit of rage, not for any reason in the world. Fuck.

'Stupid,' she thought, going to grit her teeth even more and raising her head, albeit not by much. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid. '

It wasn't in the right color, perhaps, but… The old brown one was almost symbolic of her departure. White was what she was becoming. 

'Morgana would have liked it if she had seen it.' 

"My clothes are just fine," she added simply. "We could look for an Internal Market instead. See if they have stuff to trade."

"That, sure. But if they don't have anything…"

"No," she interrupted him, somewhat soured by even the idea. Fuck that, seriously. "I'm not taking one of those garbage bags that some humans refer to as their clothes." 

'I'll be on her level, through and through. Only then will I make her proud of me, even if she is no longer on earth. Only then will I be able to carry out the design she conceived,' she tightened her lips. 'Look at me from the other world, Master. Look at me.'

Donn said nothing to her comment. He merely sighed and fell silent for a moment. Nemain could feel him looking at her from the rearview mirror. 

"Well, I'm going down there," he commented as he returned to crack the silence, reaching forward to press one of the bike's many, many buttons. "Whether you want it or not."

"Whatever. I don’t care," she said, squeezing in tighter on herself. And feeling the bike slow dramatically, lowering in altitude as it went. Her gaze darted to what appeared to be a cabin in the distance, not too far from a town and the bush. A single person—an elderly man wearing a yellow jacket—was busy chopping logs of wood, beside the building's large doorway.

"Aura?" Nemain asked Donn. Not being able to see the Auras yet pissed her off. Being able to taste them was not enough. It didn’t help her enough. But the Eyes Door that she was still searching for was the most hard to get thing ever . She almost started thinking that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t a Magical Perception that she could obtain.

The Wizard, after realizing who she meant during a couple of scant seconds, shook his head. "He has none," he said, the tone of his voice suddenly cold and harsh. Detached and serious as only someone who was giving a death sentence to a stranger could be. Even contemptuous. And as much as, at times, he had a way of acting that riled her up terribly, those were the moments when she could not help but appreciate him. 

"They made the people I loved the most suffer and then killed them just because they had magic in their veins," he had said one of the first times Nemain had spoken to him, shortly after he arrived in their Coven. She remembered it vividly, especially since his look had been almost disturbing while he wrote down names—all the names of the people he killed in his notebook. He wanted to know about them, so he never forgot about them. The reason, for her, was still unclear—to the point that she had felt several chills running down her spine. "I will return the favor properly. In whatever way I can."

"I'll take care of him," the Bones Witch added nonchalantly, pushing the memory aside. She said this without even blinking. Donn did not answer her, but she knew she had his approval. Just as he knew she would do her job efficiently. 

Getting a rib cage bone directly into the heart of the human? Easy as breathing. A little dialogue, accompanied by constant physical contact, and he was done. He would not even have time to scream.

********

Jim jolted awake. He felt his lungs burning and his throat so dry that he struggled to even try to swallow. The knot that seemed to have formed in the center of it did not help.

He gasped for a few brief seconds in total confusion. His eyes saw everything blurry from the tears that were still sliding down his cheeks, making them sting. The same thing was done by those who were still trapped in them. 

His heart was still beating as if crazed and the sensation of the black liquid hovered over his skin, aggressive and suffocating, making him barely tremble.

A small sob escaped him, devoid of the slightest control. His hands closed into a fist as he brought them to his face, rubbing them against his eyelids with a lot more frustration than he would have wanted.

"Jim." Suddenly a voice jumped up, causing him to raise his head in alarm and find himself staring back at the last subject of his dream, who stared back at him, his eyes shining a little in the dark. 

Jim stiffened suddenly, to the point that he became paralyzed on the spot. The images flashed again and again in his mind, almost etched into the center of it with a hot iron—It might as well have been counting how much pain these caused him. They did even only by thinking about them.

"Oh, hey. Breathe," said Douxie, probably trying to sound reassuring, but not having the slightest effect as Jim couldn't get any of those scenes out of his head. The terror was still there, still fresh. It didn't want to leave him alone, dammit. Dammit.

"It's okay. It was just a dream. Just a bad dream."

Jim's eyes started to move around him, looking for the others, almost to find confirmation. They were all there. They were all there and they were breathing. He could see their chests rising and falling. Jim could even hear someone among them snoring.

'They are all right. They are all right. They're fine. It wasn't real.'

Yet even though he knew it had been a nightmare, just bringing his gaze to the boy in front of him made him feel something unpleasant in the pit of his stomach. And it came back to speed up his heartbeat and his breathing, so much so that the more he took in oxygen, the more it felt like his lungs were lacking it.

"No. No, slowly, Jim," the Wizard's voice jumped back up again, his hand rising slightly only to retreat, all so quickly that Jim seemed to have imagined it. His face showed visible concern, but there was calm in his tone.

"In and out, but slower. Watch me and follow mine, okay?" he continued, maintaining eye contact. Jim kept staring at the green shade for several seconds, the silence thick and heavy. Then he looked at his mouth, as he should have done from the start, probably, to follow him.

He tried to execute, still staring at him and imitating him as much as possible. He was trying to hang on to his rhythm as if it was a lifeline.

Jim tried to take in as much oxygen as he could, only to throw it out again and again. It was a slow repetition, almost endless from his point of view, but one that gradually loosened his tension, allowing him to return to at least a partial state of calm. Not complete, because that unpleasant something was always there, but at least it was not overbearing to the point that he choked there and then.

He sniffed and sobbed a couple of times during the process, but both the burning in his lungs and his heartbeat began to diminish in intensity. 

The terror was still there, just as the images were, but a sense of grounding in the present was trying to push them away. To make them disappear, bit by bit. 

'It wasn't real,'   he whispered mentally to himself.

"There, that's good. Keep going. Just like that." 

He did. He couldn’t know for how much time, but he did. He just kept following.

When he returned to a half-quiet state, slight shame added to the mix. Jim gritted his teeth, swallowing hard. He was still shaking, despite everything.

'None of that was real,' he thought. And he clenched his fists, letting them press against his thighs. 'It wasn't.'

A moment of total silence, in which he continued to regularize his breathing.

"A little better?" the Wizard asked after that, in the same tone of voice as before. Jim returned to look into his eyes.

"...Yes," he said, the voice coming out of his mouth more croaky than he would have liked. 

'It wasn't real,' he repeated, his gaze moving to Toby a second time. And to Blinky. And to Steve and Aaarrrgh and Claire. Their bodies in the dream again took the air out of his lungs like a punch in the stomach.

Jim took yet another big breath. He threw it out and closed his eyelids. He had to relax. He had to stop thinking about his friends' corpses. They weren’t dead. It had been a nightmare. He knew that.

He continued to mentally repeat the same phrases with more conviction as if he was in a loop. 

He opened his eyes again after a long amount of time… or was it short? He really did not know. When he did, anyway, he could not contain the grimace that was painted on his face.

In doing so, however, he found himself seeing Douxie holding out the glass Nari had made for him that morning, silently waiting for him to take it, not moving an inch from literally kneeling on the floor, looking utterly still.

At that moment, staring at the clear liquid that filled the glass to the brim, grasping it with hands that were still shaking and being helped to support it even by the other's grip, Jim realized how thirsty he was.

He drank greedily. Doing so helped him a lot. The cool water flowing from his palate all the way down, down where he could feel it pooling, wrung a small sigh of relief from him. Not feeling his throat as parched as a desert was appreciated. Drinking also brought a greater state of mental clarity, a fact also appreciated.

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked the raven-haired boy once he finished the glass of water, going to rest it on the surface of the mattress.

"No," Jim found himself saying in a much less croaky voice, without a second thought. Just the idea of trying made his throat feel constricted. 

At the reply, the other merely nodded his head a little, going then to cast a glance around him. "Not even to the others?" he asked. 

Jim frowned at the question but shook his head anyway. He did not want to wake them up for such a thing. Even from the curtain-covered window, he could see that the sky was still quite dark. There wasn't that heavy darkness that had been there in his nightmare, but the sun had not yet come out in earnest. 

"What time is it?" he ended up asking after a couple of seconds, returning to bring a hand against his eyes, pressing two fingers to the corners of them. 

Douxie went to turn backward, albeit not by too much. In the blink of an eye, he had his cell phone in his hand, and headphones attached to it. The screen barely lit up when he clicked it twice. "5:40," a small pause of silence. "Do you want to try to sleep again? You should get some more rest." 

"No..." He replied, feeling his hand crack slightly at how tightly he was squeezing his fingers. 

He feared that if he tried to fall asleep again he would end up having the same dream. He did not want it. 

He bit his lower lip. "...I don't think I can," he admitted slowly and softly. 

"Okay," Douxie murmured cautiously back to him, nodding. "Do you want to go out for a little change of air, then?"

Part of Jim wished to refuse. He was scared, in an almost childlike fear, that even trying to slip out of that room would make all his friends disappear into thin air. Or that he would return only to witness a scenario similar to the one in his dream. The other part of him, on the other hand, actually wanted to get out and shake off the last hints of his tension, making it go away until the anxiety stopped.

"Just five minutes," added Douxie, as if he had read his mind. Or maybe, well, Jim might have had a pretty blatant look on his face. "Then, if you want to, you can come back inside. Okay?"

He ended up nodding in response even before he realized it, almost mechanically. 

Douxie got to his feet first, immediately helping him to do the same. And, although Jim was feeling pretty shaken up and neither of them was walking briskly, in no time they were already in the castle hallway, with the Wizard opening one of the many windows, pushing the fabric aside and allowing a wave of fresh, clean air to peep through. Breathing in and out, squinting while doing so, was even more pleasant than the water.

********

She dragged the corpse into the cabin by its arms by sheer physical strength, letting it crawl against the floor—She could have used her Magic, but hers was more of a symbolic gesture than anything else—then, just after catching a glimpse of the nearest closet and rummaging through the dead man's pockets one last time, she shoved him in it without a second thought. There were no keys around, but enchanting the door was child's play. 

That done, she started to touch her chest where she knew her Core was flowing at its peak, and raised her head toward the ceiling. It would have been better if she had a direct view of the sky, but she had no desire to go back outside. Not in that hellish cold. 

'A small step, but still a step forward,' she thought, proudly, then looking around only after her Mana, along with her determination, became diluted again and disappeared into the background of what to do . 

Almost everything was built of wood, of course... And in very bad taste. Almost everything had an old, goat-like smell that led her, whether she wanted to or not, to grimace in disgust. Almost everything on the floor creaked as if it were about to give way at any moment. Its noises were unnerving. 

'Fuck this. It’s less cold, yes, but was it that hard to keep it clean and a little more decent? Such a lazy asshole. Well. Not a problem anymore.' 

The stove in the fireplace—found in the central room of the lodge—was off. Just as the chandelier light, also in it, was off.

Trying to light the second one would have been a bad choice anyway, so she ignored the little button on the wall, preferring to let Donn take the wood cut from the now corpse, then sighed with relief when he lit it with his black flames. A part of Nemain would have liked to come closer to taste the Aura those had around them—Black Magic. The Void that consumed everything tasted almost sinful. There was a hint of something addictive and at the same time something that scared her shitless. It was like a warning of danger and an inducement to continue at the same time—but it would weaken them. And she needed warmth more than magical energy at that moment. 

"You should try contacting Badb," Donn asserted, letting himself through into the room that flanked the one they had both been in, which had an old bed whose pillows seemed to have been emptied almost completely of feathers. "She's been looking for you."

"Maybe later. First I want to take a bath. And see if there's anything to eat that, possibly, isn't frighteningly sweet."

"Sugar would be good for you," Donn commented, staring at her with an all-too-savory air. There. This was a way of acting that pissed her off. "...Especially counting that our internal fat is long gone."

"Yes," she admitted, rolling her eyes, "But eating almost only sweets makes me nauseous. So, thanks, but no thanks," just the idea, ugh. No. Absolutely not. 

She already struggled with dark chocolate. Being able to endure a lifetime of gummy candy and all the inhuman sugary junk around? Fuck, no. "I have no idea how you are capable of that."

She took off in the direction of the bathroom without listening to what Donn said next. She hoped that at least that one smelled less like a goat's butt, although she doubted it quite a bit. It was as if the presence of the man's dirt had stained the entire dwelling. 

And she was right, indeed. When she reached the bathroom—a fairly large room with an all-too-tall tub surrounded by a canary-yellow curtain—the stench was ever-present. And so fucking nasty. What the fuck.

She covered her nose with one of her arms.

'This cabin should be burned down. There would be less waste of space.' she thought, going over to the various products resting on the cabinet next to the sink. The amount of white musk shower gels finished and left there was outrageous. 

Nemain took a new one almost at random, then leaned it against the edge of the tub and began—in a slow manner, since her left arm was still covering half of her face—to undress, careful not to ruin the fabric of her clothes. She placed them on the wooden chair that stood in the corner, perfectly folded, returning to curse in her thoughts about her previous idiocy.

'Never again,' she promised herself, her right hand opening the water in the tub and then going to caress the small tattoo that traced the skin on her shoulder. 

It was a dreamcatcher. Very simple and perhaps almost trivial compared to the huge representation of the Nemeton and an Arabian Phoenix that traced her back entirely. It was ultra-detailed and beautiful to her, especially the feathers and branches. Both of those things seemed to be trying to peek out from her body. And she adored—with every single part of her—the fact that the tattoo began to move when she used her magic. She could sense it doing it, trying to reach her chest and her waist, almost trying to hug her. 

Bechville had been frighteningly good at drawing the tattoo on her. She had worked on it for hours and hours without stopping. All to cover that stupid big scar that would never go away, but that Nemain was beginning to feel less and less as the centuries passed. And if she felt it, her main remedy was to take it out on one or more mannequins—always cutting them to pieces, with the head always being the last thing cut off—or on her, now old, punching bag. 

Both subjects she used as methods of unloading anger were located in the Lair's training room: Her favorite room ever. Wide, airy, and full of magical tools of all kinds to test. When one or more were found in their now constant comings and goings, they were brought there after they made sure they were not perhaps cursed. And some were passed out to members in the case of perfect resonance. She still hadn’t found any that could have been her own, sadly.

'Maybe I don't need it. But it would have been nice if I had been able to find and obtain the Skathe-Hrün,' she thought, watching the liquid slowly rise into the tub. 

Once it was filled with boiling water, Nemain let herself get into it, an expression between satisfied and peaceful gradually making its way onto her face. She stopped covering her nose.

'Warm just right,' she closed her eyes in pure pleasure and massaged her shoulders in slow circular motions. 

Morgana's gentle smile appeared behind her eyelids in a flash. It, too, was full of warmth. It had always been toward her, somewhat like her actions.

It had been a long, long time, but she could still feel her fingers stroking her hair gently as she gathered them into a braid, occasionally tickling her nose with a few strands on purpose, making her laugh. 

Counting that Nemain was theoretically her handmaiden, she should have done it to her Mistress and not the other way around, but the Mother of Monsters seemed to enjoy doing it. It seemed to relax her, to take away the oppressive burden of her brother, of the Strongest Sorcerer, and of the stupid whispers that the people couldn’t stop spreading—Gods, she hated them all

It seemed to strip her of the expectations everyone had of her, too... It must have been so hard to bear, but she always had been so strong... 

Nemain’s expression went back to bending and tightening. She had to do more. She was going to take that burden on herself, whatever the cost.

She had to find the Nemeton as soon as possible. She had to do everything to accomplish her task so that Morgana's death would not be in vain. Then she would destroy Arcadia Oaks, the place where she had been led to it. And, only after eliminating human scum from the face of the earth, would she allow herself to rest in earnest.

********

They kept moving forward for a while. Jim didn't want to stray too far, but at the same time he needed space, and Douxie was following his pace without saying a word, not even to ask him where he wanted to go—Better that way, perhaps. He could not have given him a decent answer—and without staring at him. From time to time he gave him glances, but they were brief enough that Jim didn't even realize it. 

Only at one point, he found himself noticing a couple of them and to return them. The lack of Archie crossed his mind, but it was pushed aside rather quickly—probably he was making sure that outside Camelot continued to be alright, Jim told himself—by a question that popped up in his mind, due to yet another sudden mental flashback. 

"Did you know?" he asked in a low voice, almost not even realizing it, leading Douxie to turn his face in his direction and to look at him with a confused expression. "When Claire was being possessed by Morgana, did you know it?" 

A faint spark crossed his gaze. "Oh. That…" He frowned. "Not really. I suspected it, but I wasn't sure."

"But didn't you say her Aura was different from Morgana's?" he asked, confused.

The Wizard paused for a second, blinking in mild confusion—something for which Jim did not grasp in the slightest, unable to connect what was wrong with the question, even though something tingled in his mind, however, it was somewhat clouded—then collected himself. 

"It had been ages since I'd heard her Sound. And I hadn't heard Claire's long enough to distinguish them. I could only rely on memory and the fact that she was acting strangely. And still, I did not know her, so I wasn’t sure about that either. Nothing more," he shrugged.

He frowned a second time. It made sense. Although... "So you weren't flirting with her?" he asked. And he almost slapped a hand on his face because of it, while embarrassment pooled inside him. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. 

'Shoot me.'

He wished he could have rewinded time to avoid stating the question verbally, but starting that conversation had already thrown the dam wide open.

"Wha...?" The Wizard's expression changed again, his brow furrowing and his nose wrinkling as he seemed at a loss for words, so much so that he remained silent with a puzzled expression. He kept staring at him without uttering a word, that look still stuck on his face, and Jim felt his cheeks become warm. 

"No…?" Douxie said after a bit, still confused, blinking a couple of times. "Did… I gave that impression?"

"Uhm… A little," he said, unable to help but notice first something that seemed like a lightning-fast realization, then, a short time later, a certain uneasiness crossed the other's face at the confirmation. He almost tried to add a 'But maybe it was just me…' but after a second or two of silence, Douxie groaned, bringing a hand to his face.

"Wonderful…” he snapped, more to himself than to him, sighing. “I apologize, then. That was not my intention," a pause, in which he grimaced. "I can assure you, I have no romantic interest in her whatsoever,” one of his hands got to his hair, brushing a lock away from his forehead. “Vigilantism and old habits lead me to play parts out of instinct in some situations and... sometimes I don't think about how I might appear in others' eyes," he tightened his lips, running his fingers nervously through more of his hair. "Sorry again."

Jim did not know what to reply to that comment, for whatever reason.

He arched both eyebrows, then gave a small nod to the other, letting a momentary partial silence return, interrupted by their footsteps—more Jim's than Douxie's. The Wizard’s walk could hardly be heard—by the sound of the snapping of the blue tongues of fire in the flashlights and by the wind gliding down the corridor and out of the castle. The breeze was always cool and calm. 

"Can we go back now?" he asked after a while, feeling his energy—more physical than mental, though a bit his mind was beginning to fog as well, leading him to shake his head repeatedly—diminish as he went, especially in finding himself casting a glance at a long flight of stairs—though they went down instead of up, Jim did not feel able to walk them—whose engraving on the wall said they led to the Latrines. 

He had no idea how they got there. In the search for a hint of tranquility, it had seemed to him more like walking around in circles. Soothingly, but still circling. The writings fortunately made it easier to figure out how to get back, at least. 

"As you wish," Douxie did not make him wait for an answer, immediately turning around, still waiting for him to go first. 

As they set off to return to the room—both at a slow pace, both silent—Jim found himself inhaling and exhaling. The oppression was still in him, in some ways, but it was much lighter. What remained led him to clench his fists. The need to throw out some of his guilt was fermenting him, he realized between steps. 

"I think I owe you an apology, too," he asserted decisively, about ten seconds into which necessity and insecurity started to push themselves into his chest, making it difficult for him to even decide how to speak again.

Douxie's face, as an initial silent response, returned to confusion. He frowned again. "For what?" he asked. 

"Still for... For what happened that night," he said slowly. The other's expression did not change one bit. "For... When Morgana called you a slave..." a small pause in which Douxie stiffened suddenly. His face did the same. "I… didn't say or do anything. And… and probably if I had, it wouldn't have been anything positive," he admitted, looking down. And then at him.

Hisirdoux didn’t answer at first. He just stayed silent and still. His expression was difficult to read, but it seemed to have an almost faraway look. Still, after a bit, he simply shook his head and stared back at him, definitely more present. 

"Doesn’t matter," he said, hinting at a smile that tried to reassure him more than to be true. "From your point of view, I must have been in the way that night. And counting the, uh, very bad first impression, I can't blame you at all."

This was all too true. Jim had seen him as if he had been a big problem that night. Out of jealousy, for childish spite, and out of stupidity, too, counting that he had been there because he worked there . Not to ruin his date. 

"But it doesn't change that it was mean… And rude," he found himself saying, even more convinced. “You didn't deserve it, bad first impression or not. I'm sorry.” 

‘Had it been any other person, I would not have behaved that way,' he thought to himself and—For the better this way, perhaps—he avoided saying. Just that thought brought shame back to him, but he forced it away. Same thing he did with the slight annoyance with himself. 

"Seriously, it doesn't matter. It's fine,” Douxie said again, having a smile that was a little more honest. A little more real. “You shouldn't worry about something like that. It's in the past now," he paused, shrugging. "Sure, it wasn't the best thing ever, and I was a little upset then, but there has also been so much worse , really," the Wizard acknowledged. 

After a little bit, Douxie rolled his eyes, almost remembering something. A little huff slipped from his mouth. "...Some people can make you want to buy a baseball bat and shovel."

He blinked. "Even just from my mother's stories, I can imagine." Jim found himself saying, frowning again.

How many times had his mom come home, furious and stressed, but always trying not to let him feel it? Way too many. In those days, when he had the opportunity, he had always prepared her favorite dishes. Or he'd let her vent for hours about the kinds of crazy attitudes some people had.

"Her work?" Hisirdoux questioned, his nose wrinkled. 

"She is a Doctor."

"Ah," he winced slightly, "I don't envy her at all, then," he murmured, pursuing his lips. 

Jim couldn't help but give him a confused look, to which Douxie simply sighed again and added an "I'm… a terrible patient..." before he went to close the window. The comment didn't surprise Jim one bit.

"What, did you walk with a broken leg without crutches or a cast or something like that?" he asked, half joking—finding it plausible enough, though—once Douxie returned to his side, one hand thrust into his sweatshirt pocket while the other toyed absently with his necklace.

The question brought an amused expression on the other's face. "I broke my leg and my wrist about five months ago. Four days of called out sickness and I was good as new. I haven't been insane enough to run around, but no, no casts and no crutches were used, even though someone wanted to throw me out of the window because of it."

The 'four days' left him gaping and staring at him. Douxie grinned as if he was proud of such a thing. 

"What in the world…? How?" a small pause, in which a part of his brain started to see him in a different light. That sounded like… Like… ''What are you, Wolverine?"

Shock painted Douxie's face for a second. Then he barked a laugh, covering his mouth with his closed fist. "Definitely not ," he snorted, and even if he was trying to sober up, he looked like he was going to laugh again. "The immortality stuff is on check, but I'm not that fast. I heal quickly, but not like that…" 

"And you don't have claws." Jim found himself saying. A part of him still felt perplexed, the other that was near to start laughing too, whether in shock or because of Hisirdoux's laughter itself. 

"Yeah, Archie is enough with them. I would still be more horrified by the whole ugly yellow superhero suit, though."

"You wouldn't be with the weird hair and sideburns thing?" 

"Sideburns were passable, I like them..." he shrugged. "On older-looking men. On younger ones, it's a bloody no."

Jim paused for a few seconds. His mind was still half trapped in the four days' comment. "Are all Wizards like this? Or is it a… you thing?"

"Both?... I mean, there are those who take less and those who take more."

"So, in a way, all Wizards are less pumped, less animalistic, but with better fashion sense, Wolverines?" 

Douxie snorted again. "That's one of the weirdest things I have ever heard," he commented. "But, yeah. I guess."

They both chuckled this time and reached the door of their room just moments later. They stayed in front of it for a few seconds. 

"Need more time or…?" 

"No, I…" Jim blinked. He felt calm. The panic and heavyweight weren't there anymore. He could breathe freely, too. "I think I'm better now."

"Okay," Douxie said, looking at him a bit longer. "If you need anything, just say the word." 

Jim nodded at him. And after that, the Wizard opened the door delicately, showing everyone else. 

They were still asleep—and a few were snoring even louder than when they'd left them—except for the Dragon who was walking around on his Wizard's mattress, going to look at both of them under the thick lenses.

After glancing at each other yet again, the two sat on their beds. Jim lay back, albeit feeling the slightly tense sensation returning. 

Parts of his expectations made him fearful of ending up in nightmares a second time—even if the fear was much lower and more contained than before—but at the same time he felt that even if he tried to stay awake, he wouldn't last that long. Maybe ten minutes, but no more than that.

Douxie also lay down, one hand digging into Archibald's fur and the other clicking on the edge of the cover of the book, which was left closed where it was.

"Thanks…" Jim murmured after a bit, his voice rather low. So low that for a moment he thought that the other would not hear it. His gaze, which flicked back to his almost instantly, destroyed that notion.

"You’re welcome," he answered, also at a low volume. 

After having cast one last look around him and resting his head well on the mattress, Jim slowly let himself sink into the nothingness of his unconsciousness.

********

"You looked for me," Nemain said dryly, shortly after tracing the Badb Soul Symbol on the floor with red chalk—which she had kept in the pockets of her cloak—then going to Summon the witch, calling her name three times and turning around on herself every single one of them. "I am here."

Badb's smile greeted her, always looking so unrestrained and hysterical as to be unnatural. The blonde was used to it, however, counting that she flaunted it often.

She was sitting cross-legged and her figure seemed as if she was there, in the same building as hers, instead of who knows how many kilometers away.

"I see," she giggled. "I would have liked to know if there was any news, but I assume problems have arisen."

A huff escaped Nemain's mouth. Problems arose, yeah. It seemed almost dismissive of the final situation she'd found herself in, not even having the faintest idea of how she got into it. Just thinking about it made her angry. Between breaths, she tried to calm down.

"Yes. But I'm ready to fix everything at the first opportunity after I get back," she answered, determined. She was very ready to kick the ass of the bastard who had taken her to the Bolshoy Islands with collar and all. They would regret it, oh yeah.

"Excellent. I leave everything in your hands." Badb said cheerfully. "I managed to recruit three more members today. Three witches. All of them are… interesting…" she chuckled, albeit briefly. "The other members of the Coven have refused, for the moment. I'm going to see what I can do about it." 

The Bones Witch nodded to that. 

"Then I will search for other creatures. If I can't convince them, we could burn the city without problems. I'll wait for you to do it, I know you'd like to," her smile, though it didn't seem possible, seemed to widen even more. She was right, anyway. "Meanwhile, a few humans are already enjoying themselves. Soon more are going to follow"

Nemain made a choked sound before she started laughing back at her. They were having fun for sure. In a way, they would not forget until the end of their days.

After she'd stopped laughing, she breathed in, a last giggle running out from her lips. A bit of silence passed. 

"For the Nemeton, instead?" she found herself asking, sounding somewhat hopeful in her question.

"No magic item that could break the Primal Seal in Donn's mind, no. Nor someone that could break it just by their presence. They haven't been found."

Nemain lost most of her sudden good humor and huffed. Well, it was almost clear to her that no one could break the Primal Seal. Most of those who had been around Donn at the time he said he saw the Nemeton, well, they were dead.

That goddamn Seal—created maybe by the tree itself, maybe by someone else protecting the tree—was a fucking thorn in her side. God only knew how many times she had cursed after it, both to herself and out loud. She had lost count.

Nemain couldn't get inside his head. Macha's magic did not work on such an ancient and innate magical essence. She could barely get close to it, but… it was best avoided. More for the Wizard's safety than anything else.

Many of Donn's memories of the Nemeton were blurred. And he didn't like to think too much about that period either, counting that it was when his loved ones had been killed.

'I'll find something,' she told herself mentally. 'It doesn't matter if I have to leap into another dimension. It doesn't matter if I have to enter the Limbo or go straight to Hell to do it. I will find it.'

"Okay," she said, taking a big deep breath and letting it out. "We'll keep trying."

"I don't doubt it," she answered, always cheerful, moving on by herself as if she were on a swing. "What you want to do, you do it and have success in it. Always. You are stubborn this way, after all."

Nemain let out a satisfied smile. "Are you trying to soften me with your praise?" a little pause. "It might be working," another moment of silence, in which the smile became a small evil grin. "If you make me more, it might work even better." 

Badb's expression changed for a moment, surprised by her comment, and then she laughed loudly, slapping the ground in front of her several times. "I'm just telling the truth… But I can tell that I don't see it as a problem. I'll keep that in mind."

A small part of Nemain hoped she didn't. It wasn't her compliments that she wanted to receive. The second side of her almost made her smirk more. 

Chapter Text

TRACK 20

Wash your face in the morning sun

Flash your pen at the song that I’m singing

Touchdown base living on the run

Make no sweat at the hole that you’re digging

(Be Here Now- Oasis) 

********

"Still asleep?" asked Merlin immediately in a partly sour tone once he made his appearance in the room, flanked by Nari. It was 10:00 in the morning, about half an hour after the end of the call Douxie had had with Alice. 

An indefinite sound escaped Hisirdoux's lips as soon as he saw him, after lifting his head in a rush. The Wizard hastily dropped the bookmark inside the book—provoking a small thud in closing it—then the cell phone into his pocket and finally stood up, getting near to him. He did it all so quickly that he almost lost his balance in the process, clumsily managing not to fall back onto the mattress and on Archie by a whisker. 

"Wake them up." Ordered the Sorcerer, his tone rejecting any kind of denial. "They must all be ready for what lies ahead."

"Yes, Master," he merely replied, though a small part of him wished he had tried to ask for another half hour to allow the Guardians more rest. Merlin's earnest expression had put him off instantly. 

'For being ready to see an old friend, he is not in a good mood...' he thought. 

'Maybe it's because Nari has to get out of the castle once we get there,' commented Archibald, finally clear in his mind. There was not even a hint of interference. 

Douxie blinked a few times. It was possible. 'If they don't hurry, they will risk being noticed. '

'And we don't know how near or far the other two are.'

Yes. That was a good reason to be nervous. They had not heard from them since they left Arcadia. They could have been anywhere. And they could have been planning who knows what. 

Douxie did not even have time to turn around to start carrying out the order when Merlin's voice jumped up again, albeit in a slightly less sour tone. "... Could I know what you went down to the city for last night?"

The question did not catch him so much off guard, especially considering that it was more than obvious that his Master would notice. He had reinforced the barrier for a reason, after all: To better hear both what was coming in—authorized or not—and what was going out… but it still managed to make him hold his breath for a moment.

“Stretching our legs and getting some air…” he ventured to reply. 

'That's not a convincing enough excuse. You could have gotten some air in the garden, for that matter.' Archie commented.

That was true, yeah. Okay.

"... We wanted to see the landscape up close. None of us had seen Shenyang before. And I thought I had read that it was the place where they had made a movie set, but I remembered wrong. The city was very beautiful, though."

Master Merlin looked at him with an unconvinced expression, the kind that said 'you're hiding something from me,' and 'we're not on a field trip,' at the same time. He wasn't wrong, not at all. In either of them. However... 

He was neither prepared nor psychologically willing to listen to all the criticism that would surely arise once he decided to spill his guts about perhaps allying with the Vampires. 

Eventually, he would have to tell the truth, whether he wanted to or not—Because Merlin had to know if some of the Clans agreed. Possibly before he found a whole army in the castle. Douxie could already imagine his expression if this happened. Help. There was a cold sweat running down his spine just at the thought—but not at that moment. Not that day and not with the bad mood his Master had already shown. 

'Nope. Nope. Absolutely nope.' 

Telling him when he was more or less relaxed would surely ruin his mood, but… in this case? To come out with a news bomb like that with someone who was already on the verge of anger? Definitely a bad idea. 

'He will also get angry because you lied to him, you know.'   

'...That's a problem for Future Me, I guess.'

'Doux...'

Douxie could sense the half-exasperation, half-confirmation of an expectation Archie had already made. He could sense his desire to huff, but there was nothing he could do about it. He was not ready to rip off the band-aid. 

Future Him would be another story. He would face the harvest of his sowing with his head held high. Or, at least, he hoped so, as highly unlikely as that was.

"It was a waste of energy," blurted out Merlin. "And an unnecessary diminution of the castle's defense, counting that Sir. Galahad had already left with the shuttle to add more supplies to the storage." He sighed. "...A risk you could have done without."

"That’s not true," he insisted, his brow furrowed. Hell, he did not know that the Knight had been missing.

He paused in silence for a moment, scrunching his nose. "We were careful not to attract people's attention and discharged some accumulated tension. That's all." The last part was the only lie in that sentence, but it was a really big one. It was the complete opposite of what had happened. "Nothing bad happened."

His Master thinned his gaze even more than before—whether he had figured it out, was just suspecting it or not was unclear—then threw it at Archie, who was lazily licking his fur, still lying on the mattress in one of the most haphazard poses he could manage. Shortly afterward he threw another to Nari—who had approached the window, but without moving the curtains, merely peeking through them—that lasted several seconds. And finally, he returned to him, sighing once more, the bad mood even more evident in his expression. 

"...Do what I told you. It's only two hours from Laos. And after we'll get there, Nari and I will set out to search for the Orchid." He said dryly, bringing his arms behind his back. "Once I send you my sentry, I want you to get in position to lead Camelot into the Portal. We will be down there waiting for you."

"Yes, Master," he replied promptly. Decision, determination, and tension began to accumulate in the center of his chest, one after another. He tried to remove them with a hasty shake of his head.

He watched his Master slip out of the room the same way he had entered it; swiftly, stiffly, and with his head held high—Without looking back even for a moment, merely having his back to him—and slight frustration replaced the previous emotional mixture, as sudden as it was overpowering. And a small side of him that Douxie forced himself to banish was almost tempted to stop him. 

To avoid such a thing, he found himself staring at the floor, his lips tight, his body beginning to move more out of instinct than anything else, and his mind going to grapple with the momentary to-do. He raised his head only upon realizing that Nari had not yet followed Master Merlin out of the room. 

He found himself looking straight into her eyes. She was not too far from him and had a gentle smile painted on her face that prompted him to reciprocate. 

He had to help her out. He was going to. Nothing else really mattered at that moment.

********

The portal would last for some time, Douxie knew it. What he did not know, however, was for how long. 

It was not definite whether, in the infuriating event that it closed again before Camelot had passed through it, it would reopen immediately and with ease.

And if it took Douxie that long to succeed, it would only increase the time Nari was without the Castle's Anti-location barrier. And it could not just be created around her, unfortunately. It would have been too small and unstable, especially considering that the semi-divinity, willingly or unwillingly, moved too much. She was alive, after all. 

A flying castle, except for Jumps, was not: consequently, it did not move like that. It was not in danger of smashing the barrier because it was going against it with one arm. Its stay at the precise center of the protective sphere was static and constant, like that of the sun between planets. His Core was not entirely so, but when did the Mana ever really stand still?

So, yes, the longer he would take to get the Castle inside the Portal, the more she was uncovered. She already had to be for the flower, if he then failed to complete his task… 

‘Ugh. Buckets… That’s a disaster.’

Just the idea made him want to put his hands in his hair and bang his head against something. Possibly against a very hard thing. The wall was a good candidate.

'If it's necessary, we'll push Camelot into the Portal in two. Relax,' Archie said.  'Don't be so on edge. We've barely been in Laos for two minutes.'

His emotions were trying to soothe him, this time in their entirety. Douxie let himself savor each one, trying to make them his own. But he then found himself flinching when the earthenware plates, more like bowls, began to be arranged on the kitchen table one after another.

In some of them were bright orange-colored soups decorated with cubes of celery and bell pepper; in others were fruit salads.

"Gazpacho and Chuyaco," said Jim, setting himself down, several baskets for him, Blinky and Aaarrrgh present in his hands. 

‘He looks much better than when he had woken up from the nightmare,’ Douxie thought, scrutinizing him for a few seconds, his brow raised. He felt relieved by seeing the small smile on his face. ‘And even better than when he had re-entered the room.’ 

"...I probably mispronounced them," muttered the Trollhunter after a few seconds, visibly embarrassed.

Claire smiled openly back to Jim, picking up one of her dishes. "Just the first word, but it wasn't that bad."

"Oh, please, let's not talk about Spanish," Steve muttered, immediately grabbing his own, but looking at the soup for a couple of seconds. "What's in it?"

"Tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, celery, onions, oil, and garlic," replied the other, going to square the expression of the former, who looked unconvinced. "Do you have a complaint?" he asked.

"No... it's just that I'm a little tired of eating only fruits and vegetables." he let out a huff. "I miss puddings. And french fries. And cheeseburgers." 

Archie waved his tail repeatedly as he stared at the blond, this before silently returning to focus his attention on his pork leg. One of the eight new ones.

'Only three days in and he's already in this state? ’ he thought, sounding a bit surprised.

Douxie shrugged, barely raising his shoulders. 'It could be worse.'

‘Yeah. He’s not throwing his plate on the floor like an infant, but still. So soon?’

‘I mean, maybe not seeing the meat that you eat would help him not to feel it that much.’

‘Yeah, sure, maybe. But you know that I’m more cat than dragon in this department, so excuse me, it’s not that much in my book.’

‘Not criticizing. Just saying that your pork is probably a little tempting.’

"Stop complaining and eat. Jimbo's committed to it." Toby intervened, serious, already ready to eat, and immediately preparing himself to make half of it disappear inside his stomach. He looked at it with a very hungry expression. 

"That's right," agreed Claire, smiling then at her boyfriend. "Thanks for the food."

The blond only made a small pout but ended up repeating the phrase in chorus with Douxie, Toby, Blinky, and Aaarrrgh. Soon after, they all brought their food to their lips and began to eat. 

The Gazpacho, fresh and creamy—truly very, very good. Damn. So good that he couldn't stop himself from complimenting him after the first few sips—disappeared faster than Hisirdoux would have liked. 

One moment he was sipping it, the next he found himself setting down his plate, licking the corner of his mouth. A small part of him would even have liked to have an encore—and as a fact, it said quite a lot. He didn’t have them often. Wasn’t the type to.

The others, too, did not take long to finish their soup. And like him, it took even less for them to reach out to grab the fruit salads. 

As they started them, Douxie could hear the heavy footsteps of Sir. Galahad even before the latter could make his appearance in the room. 

"Good morning, everyone," he said, a big yawn escaping his mouth, one of his hands going for a small bottle from the pantry.

"Uh..." he arched his eyebrow. "Isn't it almost afternoon? But good morning to you, too." he found himself saying back as he brought a slice of apple to his lips, but without giving it a bite. Not before he saw one of the man's large eyebrows rise and his hand—the free hand—grabbing an old pocket watch from under his armor, which hung down from his neck via an iron chain.

"By my beard..." he paused a little, letting it fall back to where it had been previously. He chuckled, "Well, no breakfast, then."

"Did you mean to have breakfast with alcohol?" muttered Toby, kinda weirded out and at a low volume, but not low enough not to be heard by the Knight.

"That wasn't alcohol, boy… that was the Kumis." Sir. Galahad set it down in the cupboard again, missing the general puzzled expressions—both of the boys and the Trolls—while he searched for something else.

"Fermented horse milk," said Archie bluntly, stealing the words from his mouth. "Which is still an alcohol, in a way,"

"Nah, that is nothing, really. Almost child's play... This! This is alcohol." The Knight seemed almost to exult in his pulling out a large bottle filled with Beer, at first holding it up with both arms. "Would you like some?"

"They're underage, Sir," retorted Hisirdoux instantly, before Steve could even venture to answer an unconscious yes… which was practically written all over his face.

"So what? You were still a wren when you drank your first Brew." The man laughed loudly, going to get various vegetables. Douxie stiffened on the spot at that comment.

‘Oh, blast me right now.’

"Wren?" asked Toby.

"Maybe eleven, twelve years old?" Said Sir. Galahad in a thoughtful tone, then shaking his head, only to laugh more. "I think twelve, yeah. It was too early at eleven."

"Wha… twelve?" Jumped up this time Claire. Her voice was between choked and shocked, letting one of the orange slices fall back inside her plate. 

"About that age, I'd say, yes." Sir. Galahad laughed again, flanking Douxie. He did not go to tap a hand on his shoulder only because they were too busy to reach him and thus he wasn't able to leave the imprint of his fingers on his shoulders for the second time of the week.

"Short, skinny as a scarecrow, he was constantly reminiscent of a wet cat… and he had been here less than a year, so, aye, I would say so. By eleven he was running away from everyone except Merlin. I couldn't have approached him even if I wanted to." 

Hisirdoux almost choked on the piece of apple. 

The Guardians' eyes all went to him. And he began to find the wood table's veins interesting for some reason. Counting them seemed equally interesting. Cool, almost ten near his hand.

A "Mmmh-Mmmh..." was the only sound he spat out, struggling to swallow because of the saliva that seemed to be stuck in his throat. He hoped to himself that the conversation would stop there. 

"...Running from everyone?" asked Steve after a while, however, with something between surprise and amusement, leading him to mentally curse and lose the number.

"Oh, yes. Always. When he wasn't busy running around on Merlin's assignments with Archibald, he was always trying to hide, even when you were just trying to say hello. Pretty funny to watch, if you ask me."

'It wasn't. At all. Bloody hell,' he forced himself to remain seated, even though a good part of himself would have liked to get up and leave. He wished that Merlin's sentinel had arrived so that he could do so. 'It had been a constant terror. '

He said nothing. He couldn't find a credible excuse to make. He brought his goblet to his lips and sipped the water. 

"We were constantly getting lost, Sir, we weren’t hiding." Archie half lied instead. And that sounded kinda good and easy as something to say. But his panicked brain would not work properly. "We were busier figuring out where to go than interacting with people."

The Knight assumed a puzzled expression. "It's not that hard to find your way around here..." 

"It sure is," said all the Guardians in unison, as Douxie arched his eyebrow, looking at him in pure disbelief, and as Archie snorted, wagging his tail. 

'Unbelievable.' A mixture of surprise, amusement, and exasperation reached Douxie through the link. 

'Yeah,' he agreed, resuming eating. And rolling his eyes. 'Another unnatural thing to add to his list. Are we sure he is human?'

‘One hundred percent,’ he sniffed and sneezed. ‘Stinks like one, too… One who hasn’t showered for two weeks.’

"But why make a twelve-year-old drink beer...?" asked Jim after some silence—with Sir. Galahad who still squared them with surprise, as if they had said something he could not fully comprehend.

"For the fun of it." Replied the man with all the nonchalance in the world, tearing up only more puzzled expressions. 

"For the fun of it?" Repeated Claire. She was skeptical of the answer. 

"That's right." He agreed with her. "Those were other times, kid. And in any case, he hadn't drunk much of it; he hadn't even made it to half a glass. He had gone out like a light in less than five minutes."

"...It wasn't a normal glass." Blurted out Archibald almost immediately, sounding rather piqued and restraining himself from huffing or sounding rude. His irritation was more than present in Douxie, mixed with the discomfort that arose from that whole conversation.

Hisirdoux cast a glance at his Familiar, receiving one in return—this time with an actual sigh—then looked at the Knight, continuing to feel the Guardians' eyes on him. 

"...Nor a regular beer," he added, forging a smile of politeness. "The fermentation of the onion was a bit of a kick to the stomach. Hard to handle."

Yep. He remembered it, even too much. Awful, both for the liver and the palate. A definite never again .

But Douxie remembered the ‘later’ even more.

He remembered the terrible headache and the blood that had stained some of his hair strands because he had hit his head against the corner of the table during his fall. 

He remembered throwing up, managing to reach the bucket by a whisker. 

He remembered Master Merlin's almost murderous expression, his screaming in a way he had never heard him do for real up to that point. And yes, he had heard him scream, too often perhaps, but not like this. He had been so furious that it had terrified him to death—so much so that it had been difficult to look him in the eye for nearly a couple of weeks. And talking had turned out to be just as complicated

He had been angry with both him and the Knight himself, he remembered that, too. But the man seemed to have removed that detail—or saw it as funny. He strongly disagreed with such a viewpoint. Hell, it had been a horror to face.

He sensed the heat going to focus on his face as the memories rolled inside his brain, wrecking it silently. He wanted to hit his head against the wall even more now.

'It had been a bad idea. A very, very bad idea.'

'I totally agree,' thought Archibald, sniffing with his nose again. He, too, had been angry, though not so aggressively and not at him . Just upset. 

"You're right about that. You don't mess around with my special Ale." Said the Knight cheerfully, already beginning to uncork the bottle of beer with his teeth—spitting the cork somewhere, leaving it there—and gobbling up a third of it without fail. "Any special alcohol experimented with, those centuries, that had such an effect on you?" 

"... None that knocked me out like that, no.” He wrinkled his nose. “But the Poitin was quite a slap in the face," he commented then, after thinking about it for a few moments. Rum had been pretty bad too, but he had held it up more. 

'Probably just because of my age.'

The Knight chuckled, his slow, heavy steps moving in the direction of the exit. Almost trailing them in his advance.

"For the Trolls, instead? Need a drink?" 

"No, thank you. We're all perfectly fine just like this," said Blinky, raising his basket, while Aaarrrgh merely denied it with a shake of his head.

Sir. Galahad nodded and returned to meet his gaze. "Well, should you need any help with leading, later, boy, just say so."

Douxie blinked a few times at the idea, tilting his head. The strength in the Knight's arms was not lacking, despite everything. And he would have been within the walls of Camelot anyway because of his constant checks of the outside. "I will see, thank you for the offer, Sir."

He tried to ignore how that sentence made him partially bring to mind one of the first parts of the Hallucination that Nemain had subjected him to.

"And also whistle if you should change your mind about the Beer. Or if the Trolls do. Or your cat." He cheerfully added. 

"It's not going to happen." Retorted Archie, wagging his tail once more while looking briefly at the fully plucked pig bone—with the same tone of voice he had used before. He had not even tried to modify it by a hint—before turning back to him. "But thanks anyway."

"See you later, then."

All the Guardians returned the greeting, then Sir. Galahad left the room, and Douxie almost sighed with relief and began to hurry to eat the fruit salad as quickly as possible. 

He even stood and ate it while his gaze kept wandering from plant to plant until he reached the spot where he remembered seeing the coffee one. He found it again without any trouble. 

Steve's voice emerged again almost immediately afterward, breaking his hope of passing over the entire conversation.

********

The weather was humid, almost stifling in some ways. Or at least for the Sorcerer. For the half-goddess, it was no big deal. 

Nari probably would have suffered more had it not been that she was accustomed to such temperatures. Living for more than two hundred years in the trees of the tropics had made that kind of climate habitual to her. She felt as if she had come home, in some ways. 

Nari could feel the Phalaenopsis Aphrodite pulsing in the distance. Its Aura was warm and dispersed into the ground, leaving a faint trail. It was of such a low volume that it would have been almost imperceptible to Hearing had it not been that she knew exactly what to look for. And its Smell was buried by the mixture of Cores from all the other plants around her. 

Despite everything, however, Nari kept moving forward at a brisk pace, almost without indecision. 

The ground, warm and full of life, tickled her feet at intervals, greeting her with every single move. The grass tried to stick to her legs, even if only briefly, and the flowers if closed, would bloom and then return to their original state spontaneously. The heartbeat of life flowing through the dense and intricate Nature was steady and constant... but it still seemed to briefly break down from its order in her presence. 

Merlin was behind her and followed in silence, attentive to their surroundings. His steps were heavy and his expression pulled, with a veil of sweat running down his forehead and sticking his hair to his forehead in a much more haphazard manner than normal. 

They passed a hollow tree together, and their eyes rested on the side of the lake. They circumnavigated it, continuing to follow the trail of the Orchid. 

From time to time a few little birds would appear from the foliage only to dart past Nari—some circling her a few times or even going so far as to rest on her shoulders, fingers, or horns—then disappear in a hurry, snatching her a smile. 

There were no human beings around, fortunately. There were no travelers in sight, at least for that moment. She hoped it would continue to be that way. Few would have believed a single human being intent on telling a story about seeing a Portal, but some would have. If there had been many to witness the event, it would have been more than dangerous for the magical creatures. Removing their memory would have worked to a certain extent.

Several minutes passed, slow and silent, before the wake became much clearer and more powerful. The Aura was almost transparent, but its sound was clearer. 

The Phalaenopsis whispered of magic and life. Of history and blood. It whispered and drew her to it, releasing even more of its scent. 

"We're almost there," she whispered to Merlin, turning her head to see him nod, quickening her pace. 

In no time, Nari found herself seeing the same image that had appeared in her mind when she had used the Localization spell. The Orchid in the Purification state stood a very short distance from the Kuang Si waterfall, illuminated by the radiant light of the sun. It was light pink, which became white near the column, only to turn into a vibrant orange. 

In contrast to the other plants all around that showed signs of life—though small and difficult for humans to notice, usually—it was motionless. It was so still that it looked dead. It was the effect of the active Core, which had distorted part of its essence, even if in a good way. 

On the leaves of the plant, however, there was something strange. Something that was not due to the awakening of the inner Mana. Traces of gray were staining the veins of the leaves, trying to make their way to the stem. 

Seeing it in such a state made her frown, but she forced herself to collect herself. This was not normal, no, and she would have liked to talk to the Phalaenopsis to ask what was wrong with it, but unfortunately they did not have time to allow her to do so. Not with the risk of Skrael and Bellroc noticing her or being able to locate her. 

A hint of bad feeling started to stir inside her anyway, especially the more she looked at the Orchid.

********

"Were you here already at eleven?" He asked, shocked. He honestly did not know what he would have expected. Maybe fifteen. Sixteen. Not eleven, like Harry Potter in his first year at Hogwarts. Especially counting that he had been working, not simply learning magic stuff.

"Well, yes." The bro, taking several steps forward to who knows where, shrugged. 

"Really?" The answer made Steve feel even weirder. "And no one was making a fuss about it?"

Doux shook his head, visibly distracted. "It was normal in the Middle Ages. Being an Apprentice, even for a normal job, started between the ages of twelve and fourteen..." he turned, tilted his head, and cast a general odd look, hands brushing against leaves. "Shouldn't you have done that in school? Thought it was common knowledge." 

"Yes, we did," Claire replied instantly, sighing. "It's just that he sleeps in class like once in four times and studies for tests two days before. So he must have removed it."

"Hey! That's not true!" He exclaimed loudly—lying about both points, his embarrassment rising. But oh, it wasn't his fault that certain professors, like books, had a soporific effect on him! And it wasn't his fault that he was able to perform at his best when faced with near-gesturing deadlines. 

"Yes it is," agreed Lake, chuckling. Steve threw him a dirty, annoyed look.

“Shut up, buttsnack.”

"If it was recorded, you could make two trilogies with spin-offs out of it," Domzalski added, broadening Nuñez's smile. 

"As a film series they would be pretty boring, though," she said snickering.

A pout returned on his face. He couldn't exactly retort to something like that. He simply crossed his arms, staring at them while they kept chatting.

"Oh! Oh! The poses and reactions of the professors would be the highlights. The rest would be sped up. For the background, we could use the music from The Office! It would fit!" observed Toby after a couple of seconds. 

"This is oddly specific," commented Douxie in a half-voice with a smile, as Archie let out another snort.

"... Oh my, do you remember the expression on Miss. Janeth, one of the first times it happened during math?" 

"Red as bell pepper sauce," Toby gave two taps on his cheek. "It was scaaaary."

“More or less than Vampires?” Blinky questioned.

“Huh.” Domzalski seemed to think about it. “Dunno. Maybe she was more than them. She was livid. And was just as good at sounding menacing.” He paused and his face visibly whitened. "I hope no one turns her or something."

"Okay, you're seriously overreacting," Steve muttered, offended. And instantly pouting more at their amused expressions and the "No, not at all." said in chorus by the Claire-Jim-Toby trio, all three on the verge of bursting into laughter. 

"Jee. Fine." He raised his hands in the air. "They are boring. Most of the professors are. Like a boring, annoying nuisance. Or the lullaby-kind of boring. ‘Kay?” He rolled his eyes, then blinked as a flash returned to his mind. “Shoot, I left all my school things in my locker.”

“No one is gonna steal them unless you haven’t left it open,” Lake said.

“Naw, it’s not that. Pepperjack wouldn’t have let it,” he waved a little. “But imagine if someone makes the school explode! That would be a bummer!”

“Why should the school explode?” Claire asked, looking bewildered at him.

“Dunno, okay? Creepers got to the city. Then the crazy buttsnacks of Area 49-B. Then the Giant Alien. Then the half-gods. What’s next, an asteroid? A flipping dinosaur?”

"Uh. He's right about that in a way." Domzalski said. 

“The city doesn’t remove the possibility,” the smaller Troll added, pensive.

“See? That’s what I’m saying!” He exclaimed, waving his hands in the air more than before. “Who stops the school from becoming a barbeque? Barfbag alone can’t for sure,” he paused, throwing a look at the bro. “And, anyway, returning to the whole twelve-year-old thing, like it is kinda weird to me… Not for the not knowing, " he found himself saying with initial uncertainty. Both to justify himself and because it really was so. "I mean, it's really weird, the idea of an eleven-year-old already working. And also the fact that, I mean, hearing things from a Mr. Soporific on duty is different from, well, knowing it from you. That you did it."

Lake raised an eyebrow, Claire opened and closed her mouth and Toby widened his eyes a little at that. 

"Ah..." the bro seemed to stutter in place for a moment, then turned back in the direction of the plants, getting down on his knees in front of the one he had beside him. "It should make you even more weirded out thinking about the time when factories exploited children from four years old, then," he paused. "Not that it's a one-time-thing situation... Or a human-species-only thing."

 Aaarrrgh's face fell a little. "...More species," he muttered. "Cruel."

“Barbaric, really,” Blinky commented. “I wasn't aware that it was in humanity’s story, too.”

“Well… Yeah,” the bro winced, one of his hands grabbing his necklace. “Not something to be proud of.”

They all looked at each other at the news, feeling uneasy. Aaarrrgh, on the other hand, kept looking down somewhat gloomily, while Blinky put several of his hands resting on the Troll's shoulder. That gesture was enough to bring the Giant Troll back to tranquility after a few seconds. 

Doux simply shook his head and moved in the direction of the kitchen cabinet. “I apologize for ruining the mood. Just… Me going on an apprenticeship at what you see as a young age right now, well, it wasn’t at that age. Nor has it been seen as a newsflash. Just… The norm."

Silence dawned for a few seconds as the Wizard ground coffee beans, making hot water appear out of nowhere.

Then the ringtone of his phone exploded, with electric guitars launching very loud sounds, albeit briefly—in fact, it stopped almost immediately—making them almost jerk in unison. 

"...Pardon. I should have turned it down a bit," Doux said, going to hunt for a hand in his pocket and pulling out his cell phone, his gaze barely lighting up for a few moments while mashing a button on it repeatedly. 

"Who is it?" Asked Claire, reaching forward, trying to peek. 

"Elkin Castro. He's one of the eight magicians I mentioned. One of the two from Colombia." He quickly typed something, sending—if the blip it emitted said anything about it—returning the cell phone to his pocket and then to the coffee. 

"He's an original little guy," the Cat-Dragon quipped. "One of those guys who thinks there's a conspiracy in everything, with a tendency toward Humor that's a little bit all his own, and who gets influenced a lot by the Horoscope. A bit of an adventurer."

"And with him, we're up to almost plus four in the list. Zoe, Vanessa, Ace, and Reuben are still not answering," he frowned. 

"Wait... Ace?" Jumped up Claire again, widening her eyes. "You mean Ace Ortega? Connie Ortega's older brother?"

The bro nodded. "Yep. Both wizards. As is their aunt, by the way."

Claire, Toby, and Jim all three gasped. Like it was the discovery of the century or something. Their reaction confused him a lot.

No face jumped to mind at the name Nuñez had said. "Who would this Connie be?" He asked, going to scratch behind his ear. "Is it someone important?"

"She's coming to school with us, Steve. Blonde, ponytail, brown eyes..."

The total emptiness continued to remain in his mind. "I do not remember her."

"Shannon's girlfriend."

Still nothing. She must have been delirious or something if she thought it was enough to let him know who she was talking about. "Who is Shannon?"

"Oh, please…" Claire sighed but laughed a bit.

“Shannon is the one whose pudding you stole at the Christmas party,” Toby commented. And this comment served to make him unlock the girl's image almost instantly. She meant Four eyed girl! 

"And Connie is the one who was taking the pictures at the end of the party and putting them on the school website."

"...Ah." For her, it took slightly longer. Steve didn't know—or didn't remember, it was the same—that her name was Connie . He mentally nicknamed her Lemon . "What are they like?"

"Ace is an Ink Mage. Connie, like Zoe, is a Technomancer. She seems to have a natural talent. Miss. Emerald, their aunt, on the other hand, is primarily a Geomancer from what I've been told." Doux sat down on the edge of the furniture, the cup in his hand.

"Ink Mage?"

"They make Magic and living tattoos. Not bond ones, though, unless they are involved themselves. They write books, also alive or magical. They can transmute the written ink word into what it means, although only up to a certain period and with limits." He blew on the warm coffee. "Etcetera etcetera. Long story short, the richest of the Mages, since their work comes with heavy prices. But it's long and complicated, so, pretty much deserved."

“That sounds so cool!” Said Toby, visibly excited.

"And you call him... but not Connie? And not the aunt?" Jim asked. 

"Yes." He shrugged. "Both because I don't have Connie and Miss. Emerald's number, and because I don't know them well enough to understand what their point of view on the situation will be. In any case, although I doubt Connie would have bad ideals, well… Ace would stop his sister from helping at any cost to keep her protected." He pursed his lips. "...Unless they find a common ground. And I don't think that will happen."

"... It's bizarre that almost everyone who still hasn't responded is in Arcadia." The Cat-Dragon suddenly said, causing the bro to frown even more.

His phone rang again, albeit at a lower volume. Before he could do anything about it, a translucent green bird flew through the wall and landed on the table.

Doux almost dropped his coffee cup. Before it fell, Archibald was able to stop it by passing under it and making it stay in balance between his shoulder blades. 

"...Buckets."

********

Camelot was moving. Abnormally slow, with Douxie, Archie, and Sir. Galahad was intent on pushing it from one of the towers—their expressions contorted with effort and audible curses in the process. It would have been surprising if they hadn't been in such a state, considering how big the Castle was—but it was moving.

The plants all around made the advance difficult, but fortunately, not so much as to definitively block the castle. Branches crashed against the walls, and some animals and insects sometimes ended up between them. The last ones, in particular, drew a few squeals from Steve, forcing Claire to send them back to the ground with her little Shadow Portals, sighing in the process, even if she felt satisfied with how her magic was responding to her.

At times they had even risked crashing into rising ground, but by dint of push and correction, Camelot had managed to remain on a more or less stable path.

It had been harder to infiltrate into the Rainforest without destroying their surroundings than everything else. Or at least, that's what it seemed to her, especially with how the entire stronghold had shaken. Considering that she wasn't the one leading it, she couldn't be sure, though. All the tremors that had shaken the rock could only have been due to the descent itself, not due to any hitches.

The upside of so many plants everywhere was that the sunlight filtered through, but much less, leaving large patches of shade that allowed Jim, Blinky, and Aaarrrgh to stay outdoors, even if only partially, and remain close as much as possible to an entrance.

The portal, forming in front of them and about twenty meters away, was nothing short of enormous. It was composed of pure light that went around in circles, throwing off sparks from time to time. It was so blinding that Claire couldn't look at it, so much so that she found herself blinking and seeing spots of color—either green or neon pink—with her eyes closed almost constantly.

Claire saw Nari and Merlin after several attempts to look closer, as tiring and difficult as it was. The two of them were extremely near it, but not inside of it, not even with just a hand. The half-goddess was smiling and looked reassuring, the Old Sorcerer looked as annoyed and unbearable as ever, which made her roll her eyes—should she have expected otherwise from him? No. Not really. And the desire to punch him was always present.

"Hold on tight!" Archie suddenly shouted, still pushing the lever together with the other two. As he did so, he made her gasp. "It could all get pretty hectic soon."

They all complied practically instantly. Claire went to cling to one of the nearest columns, being followed by Toby. 

Her gaze fell on Jim, who was instead pressed against the wall and who nodded at her. She then looked at the others too, all clawing at the white stone surrounding them. They seemed fine at the moment.

She didn't have time to think about almost anything before the whole Castle began to vibrate. It was something intense and maybe a little disturbing, much more than when they had entered the Rainforest—it was a bit like she was having an aggressive current run through her from head to toe, over and over again—but not as much as the enormous thrill that came immediately after, so much so that she almost fell. 

Toby, however, went to squeeze her arm, saying something decidedly incomprehensible. Both because the sounds were all staccato in his trembling voice, and because it seemed like a plug had formed in her ears.

After a bit, Claire, however, could hear a high-pitched, almost shrill noise—it must have been made very loudly for her to hear it—that caught her full attention.

She looked up from Toby and moved her gaze to see where he was coming from, with a sort of knot in her stomach. A sense of horror was added as her eyes fell on the castle lever. It had left the ground, being picked up by Galahad as both Douxie and Archibald looked at the instrument in horror.

'Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no, ' she thought, saliva getting stuck in her throat and her eyelids wide open. ' I don't think that that is normal…'

The Knight immediately rushed to try to fit the lever into the crack from which it had emerged, saying something inaudible. Claire saw Douxie nod and immediately start running his fingers over the rune bracelet as quickly as he could.

In front of them—although at first, she thought it was a trick of her eyes due to the explosion of anxiety that had arisen in her chest, accelerating her heartbeat—the portal began to shrink. It was still large enough to allow their passage, but the speed at which it was getting smaller was very, very worrisome

Archibald seemed to notice it too and said—maybe shouting, but not loud enough for even her to understand—something to the two. Everyone seemed to notice the change within a short time, starting to scream as well, resulting in a cacophony of voices that seemed muffled and urging the three to hurry up and do something.

Hisirdoux cast the sought rune on the lever and this one seemed to be as good as new again. Or at least, it returned to being—or momentarily appearing—stable, enough to allow them to start pushing again, even with the umpteenth tremors that shook everything rather aggressively.

Archibald hadn't been joking when he said everything would get hectic. It was almost an understatement. The crossing of the Portal—which continued to shrink in size—seemed to be shaking everything towards an imminent rupture, like one of the worst earthquakes ever. Claire could even see a crack forming in the rock, running a good fraction of the way across the floor, literally forming beneath her shoes in a split that made her jump backward.

It was still thanks to Toby that she avoided releasing her grip on the column. He was squeezing her wrist enough to leave his finger marks on her, but she didn't care. She was grateful for it. 

After an indefinite amount of time—it seemed too short and too long at the same time—with the formation of yet another crack, several thuds following one another and a scream—she had no idea who it belonged to. She just saw everyone trying to hold on—everything disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Chapter Text

TRACK 21

I can live another people's lives

I can't stop putting on other people's clothes

I love until I leave

I am a marathon runner

And my legs are sore

And I'm anxious to see

What I'm running for

(Marathon Runner - Yellow Ostrich) 

********

Of all the things Douxie had expected—and there had been many—the sudden detachment of the lever in the control tower had not been thought about.  

He had managed to fix it, but he had barely put a patch on the break. A patch that he had no idea how long it would last, mostly. And the panic that had arisen from seeing Sir. Galahad clutching the metal—almost waving the guiding instrument as if it were a bathtub—had even been doubled by seeing the Portal shrink and by hearing the Guardians' voices screaming from all sides and sensing Archibald's slight panic.

Perhaps luck, perhaps fate... or perhaps the fact that they had been close enough to their destination to allow that, however, they were able to reach the entry into the dimension. 

They were sucked through the Portal in the blink of an eye. Something about the Castle of Camelot broke in the process. What, exactly, was not entirely clear. There was such chaos that it was impossible to tell.

Douxie could still hear his ears ringing as the Portal closed behind them. It seemed to him that he had a dozen insects circling around them, but he had no idea how to drive them away. 

"Well, we did it!" was the Knight's cheerful and satisfied comment, although Douxie only half-heard it. What he felt at one hundred percent, however, was the slamming of his hand on his shoulder, as he had no time to escape it.

He tightened his lips in a grimace of pain, trying to turn it into a smile toward the man and failing miserably. He managed not to make a sound, however, a fact that in some ways made him feel proud of himself. Ten out of ten in the endurance competition. 

"Yeah..." he found himself saying, taking a big deep breath. "We're here."

'Finally.'

He did not let himself waste too much time. He immediately moved from his position to one of the patrol paths, casting a glance at Archie to make him to do the same—but on the second one—leading him to nod and take flight.  

Douxie moved as much in a hurry as he could like that, barely paying attention to the dark gray sky, so dark that it even appeared black in places. The sound in his ears was seriously ever-present and annoying. It almost made him slip while walking several times, but it was totally pushed aside by his need to look for Master Merlin and Nari—who surely had to be on the ground, but not too far from the castle. Or… so he hoped. 

Leaning against one of the battlements and clutching the cold stone with his fingers, his gaze started to wander right and left across the landscape. 

The ground was not that far away—although probably, if he had tried to throw himself down from where he was, he would surely have broken something—and it was aesthetically very strange. At times snow-white. At times green. At times it seemed to be filled with large, ominous black holes and was crisscrossed by numerous rivers whose outlets were not visible from where he was.

These were not normal rivers, however. Or they didn't appear to be, counting that they were all of different colors: the one furthest to the left was golden yellow, the one immediately following was red, and then there was a green one. The middle one was a bright pink, then following it was a violet one, an orange one, and finally, the only one that seemed to be composed of water; a blue one. 

All the rivers continued as far as the eye could see but after possible miles and miles. They never touched each other. They did not even brush lightly against each other, although some of them branched off along the land. 

'They are here.' Suddenly Archie's voice jumped up, leading him to move away from the walls and turn around, with the same haste with which he had reached the first patrol path earlier. 

He noticed at that moment the large cracks in the floor. They broke it roughly, but fortunately, they did not appear to be that deep. That fact did not, however, remove the unpleasant feeling that was born inside his chest at the thought of how Camelot seemed to be falling apart, bit by bit. 

He noticed how the Guardians were looking around, too. The look on their faces was the perfect interlude between positively surprised and slightly bewildered. They got closer and closer, flanking each other, seemingly even more excited just by talking to each other. 

"Do you think they taste like fruit?" asked Toby in the distance… Or apparently to his eardrums in the distance, counting that he wasn't that far away. "Like the red river of strawberries or cherry, the yellow of pineapple, and so on?" 

"That would be crazy and really amazing, but… I don't know," Jim said, chuckling. "Something tells me it's not it."

“Then why are they like this?” Steve questioned.

"Maybe it depends on what is underneath them?" Asked Blinky. "If I remember correctly, a book I read was about a lake that was red, orange, yellow, and green depending on the plants and the stone underneath."

"Noooo, oh, come on!" Steve huffed. "No plants here! It ruins the coolness! Couldn't it be something else? Like a fire river! And one made of Gold! And things like that!…" 

"Ruins the coolness?" Blinkous Galadrigal sounded quite exasperated. 

"Oh, just ignore him," Claire intervened, shaking her head and smiling. "Plants and rocks, then?" 

Blinky started to speak, but Douxie's mind stopped capturing his words, so busy with getting back to Archie as he was. His words became lower and lower in volume, reducing to a mumbling in the background. 

Once after reaching Archibald, he took notice of what was on that side, staring ahead and strongly wincing. 

There were rivers there, too, but they disappeared, being hidden by a giant barrier, the sound of which was already piercing through the air, albeit in a manner so slight as to be almost inaudible. Which still meant a lot considering the state of his ears. 

Douxie almost held his breath at seeing it, feeling an icy chill on his spine. 

It was covered with eyes everywhere. Eyes that stared at everything and everyone. They stared especially at Camelot's castle with obsessive attention, moving slowly, only to shift and return inexorably there. 

He felt himself squared by them from head to toe. He felt squared off even inside, which led him to wrap his arms around himself more, the discomfort stirring in his guts. 

''Fuzzbuckets…'' he muttered in a drawl, cursing mentally as well.

'Arch...' he called him, moistening his lips, the image of what he was seeing well inscribed in his mind. 'It's not real, right?' 

'No,' his Familiar instantly replied, looking at him steadily. 'It's not like that in reality.'

Douxie found himself nodding in return with a single movement of his head. Of course it had to happen. Of course. He shouldn't have expected otherwise. It had waited too long to come back to bother him. 

'I figured... Okay,' he thought. Hisirdoux raised both hands in the air, closed them into fists, and was tempted to hit his temples twice in a row without thinking about it too much, but realized at the last moment—before he tried seriously to do that and the pain of the impact left him stunned for several seconds, replacing the background humming sound that had remained with the usual, customary, long whistle—that he couldn't do it. Not with so many people around him.

Had he been alone, that was one thing. But he wasn't. His solo habits were not to be pursued. They wouldn't have understood them. They wouldn't have even taken them well, probably.

Or perhaps they would have begun to think he was totally insane, as one of his co-workers at Benoit had done when, in scrutinizing Kai's Aura for the first time, he had repeatedly hit his temples in front of everyone. No one except the Wizard and the other woman had stared at him, fortunately. Still, she had looked at him almost as if he had to be put down or brought to an Asylum. 

'...Bloody hell,' he put down both hands, going to close his eyes with determination, hoping that for the first time in all cases, well, this might have been the only good one.

'Did you really want to do that? Again? Really, Douxie?' Archibald sounded rather annoyed. Below his mental voice, he could hear a few more musical notes playing in the distance. 

'If I had, they would have disappeared at once,' he retorted, upset. 'You're not the one who sees eldritch horrors from time to time in other people's magic. A momentary pain is better than an unwelcome prank of an Aura for twenty-four hours straight.'

His familiar huffed. 'That's still not good enough for me. You shouldn't hurt yourself. Self-harm is not an acceptable solution.'

'It is until I find an alternative one. It is the lesser evil.'

'...You did not just think that.'

'I did.' 

'You are making me want to hit your head right now.'

'Maybe you should?' 

'Shut up. Stop it.'

When he opened his eyes again, partly hopeful, they were obviously still there. Nagging and suffocating, in constant motion. He could feel their gazes almost burning and piercing his skin. He sighed and gritted his teeth, his hands almost tingling with desire and his stomach churning.

'Damn it.' He forced himself to take a deep breath and stay still. 'I hate the Sight. I would do so easily without it.'

Archibald huffed again, wagging his tail. 'That's not true and you know it,' he commented. 'You're just being melodramatic.'

'The Hearing doesn't do that!' he thought, exasperated. 'And it's not about melodrama! It's one thing to see horror movies on Saturday nights of binge-watching, it's another to find eyes, worms, internal organs, and more in something that should simply be composed of light or color! Like, Fuzz that, who bloody asked for it?'

'You kind of did.'

'Yeah, I asked to see the colors. Or light object shapes. Or weird flowers blooming on Wizards' heads like a saint character's Aureole on a painting.' he rolled his eyes. 'Not random gore stuff.'

'It'll pass, Doux.' Archie thought back, climbing onto his shoulder. 'Don't think about it. Look down, rather.'

He tightened his lips and obeyed, remembering his Master's and Nari's previous search. He couldn't see much from where he was, so he barely leaned forward.

After a few seconds, he could see both of them.

They were climbing hand over hand thanks to a huge root. It was acting like a real elevator, providing stability and not moving too fast. Had it done so, it would have risked perhaps dropping both of them. 

Nari looked a little worried, while his Master was nothing short of stoic. His attention was on the barrier, and his solemn Aura seemed to stretch as far as possible to study it—he could hear it. He wouldn't have tried to see it. Not right now. 

Douxie would have liked to do the same as his Master, but just the idea of gazing again at all those pupils right and left held him back. He preferred to try to better identify the few melodies that he had already managed to catch and that he kept hearing in the background. 

The volume had in fact risen conspicuously in the time he had been having the mental discussion with Archie, partly because his ears had stopped bothering him. Being able to hear something even when the magic dome was so far away showed the level of power of the enchantment that created it. 

They were notes he was sure he had heard before, but his brain could not connect where. The melody was slightly different, perhaps. More for the instrument, totally anonymous, that was playing it. It really was. 

"There is a barrier blocking outside magic." asserted the dry, stern voice of his Master, intent on sharing the information with both him and the Guardians. He spoke at the same time as he descended from the root and landed on the white rock. "Any creature or magical object that crosses it will be deprived of it as long as it is in it. And only the Creator of the barrier will be able to allow intruders to use magic."

Hisirdoux widened his eyes, almost waking up sharply at that sentence. 

'Oh. It was this then!' he thought. An ugly feeling took hold of his stomach. 

Yes. It was obvious that he remembered that melody. It was not at all different just because of the musical instrument playing it, as it had seemed to him before. The more he let himself listen to it, feeling the magic flow through the air, the more he realized it. 

He had conjured that spell in his construction of Merlin's Tomb. It had slight differences in scale and effects… And in accuracy, perhaps, but it was more or less the same one. 

That barrier had a very pure, clean sound, without the slightest effort inscribed in it. Without the slightest wavering. It was incredible. 

Douxie hoped that they wouldn't be in it too much or, at least, be allowed to regain their abilities once they encountered the Keeper as soon as possible. He really, really hoped that Dalai would not be too far from the barrier. 

"Camelot will only get so close. If the Castle were to cross the barrier, the Heart of Avalon would no longer work." His Master cast a glance at Jim. "Same thing with the Amulet, Trollhunter."

Jim took it in his hands almost by instinct, looking at the object between them with a serious expression, and then he nodded. 

"Take everything you need with you. We don't know how long it will take or what will be waiting for us beyond the barrier, so it's best to be prepared. The good fortune is that since we are in an alternate dimension, there will be no problems with the sun."

"Wait, how is that possible?" asked Toby with a confused expression. 

"Outside of here, time is in motion," Nari said, smiling softly. "Here, everything is paralyzed. The flow of life is still at the time when the Phalaenopsis Core has been purified. There is no day, nor is there night."

Merlin gave confirmation with a nod, his gaze once again resting on the barrier. 

"Oh," the brown-haired boy scratched just above his own eyebrow. "Wow. Good. No, actually, this is so much better."

'Definitely better.' Archibald thought. 'Especially since just by looking at it, this place doesn’t seem to have many shelters.'

'Maybe there are some beyond the barrier,' he wrinkled his nose. 'He has to sleep somewhere, doesn't he?' 

'Yes, but how far away from us?' 

Douxie arched his eyebrow. The problem truly remained the same. 

His Master began to advance in the direction of the command tower, then brought his gaze to bear on him, causing him to stiffen on the spot by surprise. "When we get to Dalai I want you to stand near me, is that clear?" 

'Huh?' Douxie widened his eyes and blinked a couple of times, feeling his own breath hitch and briefly stop in his lungs, almost being sucked in. 'Really? He actually wants me with him?' 

It was an oddly familiar and at the same time extremely alienating request. One of the last times he'd asked it of him had been much, much earlier…—Camelot wise, of course—But perhaps out of shock, perhaps for the time itself, or for other reasons, he couldn't identify when. Nor why he had told him to. 

"Yes, Master," he found himself answering almost instantly. All previous nervousness was jostled away, both by surprise and confusion, moving practically hand in hand... by a feeling of contentment that reached him like a big tsunami. It almost made him feel light-headed. 

The childlike part in him wanted to cheer. The other part of himself forced himself to remain serious. He struggled against himself not to start smiling stupidly, biting his lower lip. 

The effect that his Master had on him was quite embarrassing, really. 

Merlin squared him for a few more seconds before bringing his gaze back to the Knight. "Galahad..."

"I'll be checking the Castle," the man asserted, looking around and then raising one of his arms and pounding his fist on the iron breastplate of his own armor. "I'll make sure everything is in order for your return."

"Perfect," his Master nodded. And he went back to referring to all of them, already starting to get going. "Come on, move along," a small pause. "Hisirdoux, clean up all the mess. Camelot needs to regain stability." He pointed to the cracks with a quick wave of his hand. That phrase, too, was familiar to him, but this one had been said so many times that it would be odd to the contrary. "Not with magic."

And his happiness, his giddiness, was slapped away with just that. Douxie couldn't help but stare at him wide-eyed, not finding words for a good ten seconds. "But Master..."

"And don't 'but Master' me. Just do it. Galahad will give you the material."

"But..."

"Do not retort.” He glared and Douxie winced slightly. “Or have you already forgotten one of the main rules I taught you?" 

He opened and then closed his mouth, wanting to snap with something to fight back, but finding himself sighing, a grimace painted on his face. “No. I did not.” He gave in to the evidence. He had to work, even in a situation like this. Wonderful. "...All right."

'Magic is not a shortcut to hard work, I get it. Okay. But in this case, isn't it a bit of a waste of time and energy?'

'Well, look at it this way. You'll have less to think about or pay attention to the eyes on the barrier.' Archie waved his tail.

'...Yeah. I guess that’s good enough.'  

Master Merlin moved his head slightly with a serious and composed expression. "When I call you, I want you to come to my study immediately," he said, and Douxie's expression changed again, returning to surprise. He nodded. 

'Now I'm curious.' 

'Same.' Archie kept waving his tail and fixed his glasses.

The Sorcerer turned to look at Nari just a second later, without saying a word. She shook her head. 

Following this, Merlin took off until he disappeared behind one of the many doors, being followed with his gaze by each of them—Douxie noticed out of the corner of his eye how Claire assumed an exasperated and annoyed expression in unison as he passed by her side, crossing her arms.

********

Jim was feeling... definitely much better. Not one hundred percent well, no, but having slept without any more nightmares to haunt his sleep, he felt more charged and relaxed. 

There was always a small side of himself that was bothered by the memories of the bad dream, but they were minor and easy to banish. He knew he was capable of defending his friends. He knew he could do it, with or without the Amulet—for this case, in fact, he had taken a normal armor, with a balanced sword that reminded him of the Deylight. It wasn't the same as the other one, and there wasn't that familiar feeling he was used to, but it was fine nonetheless. 

The only issue was the sun, generally. Fighting with the Gumm Gumms, going against them in the nights had been more comfortable for that very reason, in some ways. But fighting with the first Mages and everything else connected to them—or not, with the Chimeras and the Bones Witch—did not follow the same rule. But in that alternate dimension, there was no sun. Which could have been seen as a discomforting thought, in a way, but for him, it was kind of the opposite. If there had been problems, he would have been ready to intervene. He was more than sure of that. 

"Food?" Blinky read from the list they had hastily thrown down, suddenly pulling him out of his thoughts—the list had been more than helpful in putting down thoughts and finding everything that might be useful, especially in case the land beyond the barrier was somewhat treacherous. They couldn't know from there. 

"Check. We have about nine food rations each," he replied immediately, casting a glance at all four of the old bags they had managed to collect. 

One had been in the kitchen and reminded him more of a shopping bag, but it was still better than nothing. Fortunately, the second one had a more suitable dimension, more than necessary to carry all the supplies. The third and fourth bags were shoulder bags, pretty much the same in internal space. Not as big as the second, but much more than the first. 

"Water?" Blinky inquired. 

"Check..." asserted Tobes, after mentally counting them as fast as he could. "Twelve full bottles. And a few jars of juice. We also have some of that oddly named fermented milk." Not much of it, but they still took it. Even if it was a little alcoholic. It could have been useful, maybe. 

"Okay." Blinky's eyes moved silently over all of them there—there were only three missing—and about every couple of them were resting on someone different. "The weapons are there, of course. Ropes?"

"One. Oh, no, three with the ones the Knight brought," Steve said, moving the ones that had been hiding either underneath or between the bags.

Sir. Galahad had taken them from the stables, he had said. That was before he took another sip of his liquor and went back to work. 

"All right. Lights?" he inquired. 

"The ones from the phone and… this flashlight." Claire picked it up, her expression serious and thoughtful. She hastily placed it in a pocket of the larger bag, barely collecting herself. Whatever thoughts she had had in her mind seemed to vanish into thin air.

The Lights only would have been useful if there were some caves or something very, very dark, but it was better to have them than not. 

"The rescue kit?"

"Here it is." Jim held it out to him. It was small and made of wood, but it had gauze, disinfectant, band-aids, tape, painkillers, a needle, and some suture thread inside. 

"Compass."

"It's in the bottom of the smaller bag," Toby took it between his fingers. It was small and gold. It wasn't really needed—since they had no real definite destination in mind to reach the Keeper—but they had it anyway.

Hisirdoux had made all three of them appear from the bracelet several minutes earlier—just before disappearing with Archie, Nari, and the Knight to go fix the many cracks and what must have broken in Camelot in the passage of the Portal. The half-goddess had offered and there had been no way to change her mind, unlike some of them, who had been urged instead to procure the necessities for the journey—just as he had made a non-magical black-bladed folding knife appear, fastening it to his own belt. 

Honestly, Jim could not help but wonder about the extent of the Wizard's interest in collecting stuff—even things that were useless to him, counting that he was healing precisely at an abnormal rate. A kit wasn't supposed to do him much good, yet he'd gotten it from somewhere anyway and kept it—could actually get there. How much darn stuff did he have?... That was a mystery. 

But that wasn't even the only question swirling in his mind about the other. No, not at all.

"...The list is finished, then," said Blinky, putting down the piece of paper and starting to roll it up. "We have everything, it seems. We just have to get there."

"And hope that the Keeper isn't too far away from us," Claire added, moving a strand of hair behind her ear. Jim found himself nodding, agreeing with her with all of himself. 

"That too, yes."

********

There were cracks everywhere. Numerous objects in various rooms were destroyed, and it seemed to him that he was fighting a losing battle from the start. 

Fixing every single crack in the East Area of the castle seemed impossible, seriously. With the help of Sir. Galahad in the North Wing and Nari in the West Wing—who, unlike him, could cover the biggest holes magically with dirt and plants without risking incurring Merlin's wrath, but who had decided to do it by hand in turn—was a little better, but... Not enough to keep him from missing the shifts at Benoit.

There were too many hallways. Too many rooms to search in. Too many dark corners and stairways. 

Perhaps that was why he had decided to deal exclusively with the most worrisome cracks, leaving aside altogether the destroyed objects, which at Camelot's security level were indifferent. One decoration was of minimal importance compared to the solidity of the whole castle. And this one already seemed to be on the verge of falling apart in a not-very reassuring manner, as he had already thought before. 

In his running around in solitude—Archie was in Nari's defense. He and Douxie had argued about it at length, with Archibald repeatedly retorting that he would not trust him to leave him alone unless he promised not to hit himself. And his Familiar had won—adjusting, ascending and descending steps, staring at ceilings and staring at the spatula that shifted in the bucket and banged against the metal—causing far too much commotion, a fact that had led him to mentally curse several times. Somewhat as he had cursed loudly at the plaster, which was not coming down as well as it should—Douxie soon ended up finding himself out of breath.

He stood still for a moment, almost wanting to curl up in a corner and leave himself on the floor in an attempt to regain the oxygen he needed, but still remaining on his feet, his left arm supporting him thanks to the wall, his right arm gently releasing the handle of the bucket, letting it fall back to the ground. All this besides one of the many doors to the servants' rooms. 

'No, I definitely can't go on like this ,' he thought, taking a big breath, the biggest he could actually take, feeling his own heartbeat go way too fast. 

He pulled himself up well after that short amount of time and decided to slow his pace down, again opening one room after another, peeking in and closing it behind him, but doing so at a much calmer step. Not running anymore. 

He did not want to risk being totally exhausted before the barrier. The lack of magic was going to give him more trouble than it should have if he then left the Magic side of the Dimension with windedness and sore legs… No. Definitely not the best thing ever. Just the idea felt like hell. 

It didn't matter how much he wanted to make Camelot as stable as possible and to do it in the shortest time he could. His priorities were different.

He advanced for an unspecified amount of time between thoughts and cracks' closures. 

Douxie had absolutely no idea how much he spent in his walking and fixing. Both because the time on his phone screen was so damned stuck at the hour they had entered the Portal and because he could not really estimate it. At times he felt like he had done quite a lot and at times the opposite. The sweat that beaded his forehead and drenched his entire body was perhaps the only thing he could rely on.

'If this is an indirect punishment for getting out of the Castle, it seems a tad exaggerated,' he thought, barely huffing. 'If he sensed something about the Vampires, on the other hand, he already has more of a reason, but I don't think...'

He did not have time to finish the thought that, in his proceeding, Douxie found himself standing at the door of Nemain Mac Eo Chahid's room. 

It was sudden and unexpected, but only up to a point. He was in the servants' quarters, after all, but in the part closest to Morgana's rooms. It would have taken him very little time to climb the stairs on the left, walk down the royal corridor, and thus return there. Any crown servant had to be ready to be called and had to be quick enough to avoid getting the royals angry. 

Douxie entered the Bones Witch's chamber without much thought, the door creaking noisily both in opening it and in moving it to avoid leaving it wide open. 

It was small and neat, like his own. In a way he had expected it to be slightly better, counting how close Nemain and Morgana had always seemed to him. And he had imagined that having the love—platonic or not platonic—of a royal brought benefits. But apparently, if there had been any, they had not translated into the size of her rooms. 

In the dwelling there was a low bed, with no items hidden underneath—he checked at least four times to be sure—but with a brown cape leaning against the covers. 

There was a totally empty closet, very small. A single broken brush, smashed with visible violence, stood above the sink attached to the wall, not too far from the usual small square tub. 

Then there was an old wooden coffee table, marked by the tip of the quill, and a skull had been left on the floor, in the corner near the window, where there was a rise in the rock that could be exploited as a chair. 

Nothing else remained. Not a scroll. Not a book. Not even a mirror or a painting, which should have been there counting that there was a nail mark embedded in the wall. 

A small side of his mind suggested to him that maybe—but only maybe… he would never call himself capable of reading such a person. He did not know her at all. He knew practically nothing about her and had never asked her—the almost total lack of her stuff was because, unlike him, she had never thought of coming back. 

Douxie had left much of his stuff in his room. He had done so in an implied hope and silent anguish. Knights or no knights, the stability of the Castle had given him an internal security that had disappeared dramatically when he had found himself back on the street, a very long scroll of orders to be carried out, a grave to be created, and the eyes of strangers coming back to weigh on him. 

Instead, Nemain had left two things behind, as if to make a clean break with her own past. Something that would leave no mark on her, probably. To him, however, since their last meeting, it seemed that the Witch had done the complete opposite. 

Hisirdoux, after taking one last look to be sure there were no hidden objects or unnoticed cracks, slipped out of it in complete silence, trying to resume his search, but suddenly found himself in front of a Shadow Portal from which Claire emerged, jolting him.

He cussed out loud, startled. 

"Ah... Sorry, Teach." She smiled, appearing a little embarrassed. And near to actually giggle. 

"You scared the hell out of me," Douxie said in a breathy voice, chuckling and bringing his free hand up behind his neck. "Didn't expect you to appear."

"Yeah, I know. I noticed," this time she actually giggled. "We finished packing the bags," she added, pausing a little while silently scrutinizing him. "Do you need help?"

Douxie raised his eyebrow, pursing his lips. And evaluating. Part of him immediately wanted to say no—because they really shouldn't waste their energy. And because asking for help with a responsibility that had been given to him made him feel both selfish and incompetent—but all in all he had no idea how close they were to reaching the barrier and the more people there were, the more the burden of the work was shared and done quickly. And the cracks would have been closed more easily, too.

"Well... partly yes, but Master gave the task to me, after all, not to everyone. And I really shouldn't..." he stopped talking when he saw the girl's unconvinced expression. She already seemed ready to reply something like 'I don't care about what Merlin wants,' and to insist more. 

He sighed and shook his head. Yes, hella stubborn.

'Alright.'

"The South Wing hasn't even been started and I don't think I'm even a third of the way through checking it out," he admitted. "Moreover, I don't know where the others are." He sighed slightly once again, a tight smile on her face. "The Portal did a number on this place."

Claire nodded, looking around. She, then, frowned. "My Shadow Portals have never done this before," she murmured thoughtfully. "...Small or big as they were."

"Yours are more effective. Your magic is one of the best for transportation." Hisirdoux found himself saying after a few seconds, actually finding himself thinking about it more. "The Orchid Core was used to hide Dalai. It wasn't designed to be easy to pass through… Or at least I think that's why." He shrugged. "Or maybe it's because this castle is really too old to hold on through this kind of thing. I don't know."

"Huh…" she blinked a few times, then shook herself. "Yeah, the lever was quite the scare."

"I'll never ask Sir. Galahad's help ever again." He sighed. "Strong and all that, but bloody hell. I should have reminded myself that he doesn't know what delicacy is in most cases." 

Not that he was very much different, at times, but he wasn't going to say this. 

Claire snickered. Then. "So, where are the other materials?" 

"Last floor, near to the stable, at its left."

"Okay. I'll go get it, then I'll bring the others, too," she responded.

“No one of you is obligated though, you know that?” He asked nervously, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, I do. We all do. But we don't care. It would be best if we helped each other, no? Small unimportant things or not. We're in this together.” 

That made him go blank for a second, taken aback. He still wasn't used to big-group stuff, no matter how much he tried to put it in his head. But, still, he expected even less from them to want to help out in mundane kind of matters. That was surprising, honestly. 

He nodded after a while. "...I'll wait around here, then."

She nodded back at him. Then assumed a teasing smile. "...Try to not get scared again."

Douxie couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Cannot promise anything, really." He tilted his head and raised both eyebrows, a sudden image appearing inside his head. “...Oh, hell.” 

“What?” 

“You would be extremely effective on Halloween pranks.”

********

“Strange to see you here at three in the morning.” Yolanda sat down on the sofa in the courtyard with a slight smile on her lips. She crossed her legs, enjoying a gust of air that shook her hair, gathered in numerous braids. “I thought I understood you were coming at 11:00, Elkin.”

The nominee made a gurgling sound before letting out a sour laugh. “Technically…” he lifted the bottle of Aguardiente and took a sip directly from the neck of it. "I should have. But there was a small change of plan.”

Yolanda was silent for a few seconds, her single chocolate-colored eye peering at the other carefully and her higher leg that was swinging slightly. She intertwined the fingers of her hands, resting them on her knee.

 “¿Tu reina?” She asked finally.

Elkin immediately bowed his head, sighing and putting the bottle on the floor, looking down. “Ding ding ding,” he said, his tone almost sarcastic, but his voice was kind of broken. “Mi novia me terminó.”

“Ah.” Yolanda picked up the bottle Elkin had left on the ground, taking a sip herself. “Do you want to talk about it? Or would you rather continue drinking? I am in favor of both choices.”

"Hijo de puta!" Rosalba had shouted at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing throughout the building, so deafening that it made him grimace and groan. Had she screamed even louder, there was a chance his ears would have started to bleed. "¡Asqueroso maldito malparido que no eres nada más! ¡Boludo becerro!"

"Mi Mariposa..." he immediately raised his hands in the air, trying to calm her down, breaking into a cold sweat under the water nymph's intense blue eyes, which had boiled with pure anger. "I'm not leaving you, mi Querida. Cálmate. An old friend of mine has requested my aid."

Rosalba had grabbed the first object within reach—her hair clip—and she had thrown it at him. Elkin had barely had time to dodge it, ducking seconds before it struck him in the forehead. 

"Like last time?" She continued to shout, furious. She was shaking so much it looked like she would explode at any moment. "And the other time? What was the name of the last dear old male friend you helped by disappearing for seven years? Esperanza?"

No. Her name had been Esmeralda, but Elkin wouldn't even try to correct her on that. Especially considering that if he did, he would half-prove her point and make her even more furious.

He hadn’t told her because she was too jealous of everyone who had boobs, really. Didn’t matter if she was just a friend, a Coven witch who he knew from centuries ago. Didn’t matter if she was his best friend. She simply was jealous of every 'Puta' that was around him.

"Mi Corazon." Elkin had tried again. "I already told you it's not what you think. El Mohan was hard to take down. It kept running away and..."

"So long that you spent seven years behind it?! Rejecting my calls?" she had interrupted him, clenching her hands in fists.

…Yes. Okay, maybe that could have been avoided. But after a while, some of the evening calls, and especially all the long chats that had forced him to stay up until four in the morning, well, they started to take a toll on him. Being up by six and only going to bed for two hours when the days were busy was a bit... Difficult. Tiring. Stressful. 

Elkin had only been silent for an instant, trying to explain properly… but the nymph had instantly taken it negatively.

"You're dirtier than a miner's underwear!" She screamed. And turned her back on him only to grab another object and throw it at him again. In this case, the poor unfortunate object had been a wax vase that broke on the ground with a thud. A particularly valuable one, too, since it had been a lucky one for his sign this week.

“Stop throwing things at me!” He exclaimed, exasperated, feeling the frustration starting to rise and pool in him. "I didn't cheat on you!” He screamed back, walking towards her at a fast pace.

"Yes, you did! You fucking did, don't deny it!" 

"I did not!" He had grabbed her hand, and she had slapped it. More frustration bubbled inside him. “Yes, I spent seven years trying to take down a monster that kept giving trouble to villages. What should have I done? Left it there?" 

"Someone else could have done that."

"Yeah. Sure, thank you for finding my abilities so replaceable!" He trembled slightly. "Anyway, yes, I didn't respond to some calls, nor to some messages but it's not my fault, okay?" 

"Oh yeah, it was because you were too occupied keeping your hands elsewhere!" 

"Would you stop it, for heaven's sake? I. Did. Not. Cheat. Not even once!" 

"Sure. Plausible. Go on with your lies. What were you doing, then? What were you so busy doing? And whose fault it was?" She had said. Mocking and scornful. Painfully implying that she wouldn't have believed anything that he would have said. 

"It was your fault!" He snapped harshly. "You were nagging me when I had to rest! Constantly. I just wanted to sleep! Not to hear you whine for hours to no end!"

He regretted the entire line almost instantly, especially when he had seen his girlfriend's expression change drastically.

"Nagging you?!" She had screeched, looking at him with wide eyes, her expression horrified and disgusted. "You promise me the world and then you leave. You come back, you tell me you'll never leave me again and I'm the idiot who is forced to accept you again with open arms, not having the faintest idea of what you've done, of who you've been with and everything else! I'm the idiot who accepts every time anyway, hoping that you decide to change and settle down with me! But nothing ever changes. You always stay the fucking same! Jodate, my ass!"

"Rosalba..."

"No, shut up. Just… Just shut up. There's no reason for me to listen to you again." She bent down, picked up an empty bag, and threw it at him. It hit him in the chest and although the impact didn't hurt, it still knocked the air out of his lungs for a moment. "Go ahead where you pretend to go this time. Want to be free from my whinings? Fine. But don't come back and think that everything is owed to you. We're done."

He stared at her, his mouth half open, his words initially stuck in his throat. “I’m not pretending anything! I’m not pretending to go! I am going there because a friend asked me to, and because it's important. Why do you always have to complicate things for no specific reason?!"

She laughed ironically, not a trace of happiness in her voice. "I could ask you the exact same thing."

"You're the one who gets jealous over nothing! Don't you understand that I'm not interested in anyone else after more than fifty years with you?!"

“Oh, Cariño, at least take away the twenty you spent elsewhere because those definitely do not count.” She gave him another disgusted look. "Que te folle un pez. I think I deserve someone who treats me the way I need, not someone who takes me for granted. Just. Just leave!"

"I do not know," he blurted out, replying to Yolanda, realizing that he had been staring straight ahead for quite a while, remembering only the first part of the discussion that they had already had the bottle of alcohol half-filled in the constant passage between him and the other Witch as a witness. 

It had been so long and heavy that just going any further, with all the almost one-sided shouting, gave him a headache. He had done everything he could to change her mind but to no avail. No, the result would have been there if he had refused to leave, but... he had already accepted. And despite everything, from what he understood, there was more than one life at stake. 

“...I might end up swearing a lot, though,” Elkin added. And sighed. 

“What do you want it to be?” She smiled slightly, then patted the back of his hand delicately, the tattoos between yellow and orange on her skin changing direction after the impact. “...Come on," she says. "Seeing you so dejected bothers me, parcero.”

Elkin nodded. Then he began to tell her everything, verbatim and in detail. He almost didn't even give himself time to breathe while doing so, except in very small moments when he started drinking again.

By the time he finished speaking, they had reached the fourth bottle of Aguardiente and the room had started to become blurrier, a few objects flying around. The light from the Lair's lamp was excessively annoying.

Yolanda, throughout that report, had been listening to him without making any comments. And she was silent for several more seconds, her brow furrowed and her fingers playing with the nylon of the blindfold that covered her left eye.

“Maybe you'll find me a bitch…” she began, however, after a while. “But I think it's better this way.”

In his drunken state, Elkin gave her a shocked look, then an offended glare, failing to form a suitable insult. The more he tried, the more he heard Rosalba's voice echo with the whole list she had unloaded on him, creating a psychological barrier of separation between them and no longer allowing him to cross it.

“You two wanted different things, didn't you?” She stole the bottle from his hand and took two sips. “She wants to settle down and live a stable life. You are always looking for adventures and travel. In love or not, anyone who asks you to put aside such a large part of yourself should not be a relevant person in your life. She never even tried to accompany you, no matter how many times you asked her to come with you on your missions. So, fuck her.”

Elkin heard but understood only a third of what Yolanda said. Mostly the last part. He grimaced, taking back the alcohol. "I was."

He had. Before the whole discussion. 

Yolanda laughed at that. He managed to smile a little. 

They returned to silence for a while, and then the witch interrupted him again, still playing with her thread of nylon. It made short repetitive sounds.

"...Are you upset?" She asked with complete nonchalance.

"For what, exactly?" He grunted, trying to stare at her. And failing miserably, as he couldn't even try to concentrate on her face without having headaches.

“For your choice,” she looked in front of her, then at him. “For accepting.”

"No," he responded almost immediately following a hiccup that cut off his voice halfway, but without even needing to think about it.

“Okay,” she nodded. “But… are you?” Yolanda inquired softly.

Elkin swallowed hard, not being really able to understand the inner turmoil that was moving inside him, and that made more objects fly around them. His eyes stung a little. “…She didn't believe me,” he murmured, his voice strained. And a small sob broke through his lips. 

Yolanda remained silent once more, sadness written in her right eye. Then she simply hugged him, while he hid his head in her neck, tears slowly tracking his face.

********

Claire peeked out from behind one of the curtains, finding herself looking, trying to see the barrier. She could not see it—she just saw the landscape that technically was behind it, but she did not know how real it actually was, and how much it wasn't — but she tried anyway, this before sighing and reminding herself that, eventually, she was going to try to develop her Magic Perception. She really wanted to. 

She couldn't know how near or how far away it was but… She knew it was not close enough. If it had been, the alarm would be shared with anyone and it would have already brought the Castle to a screeching halt. 

All of them had already made a good part of Camelot in the meantime. The subdivision was helping quite a bit—except for broken objects and smashed windows that they could not fix. Or at least, they could, but certainly not with plaster—all in all, it wasn't going badly. 

It would have gone even better for her, maybe—or rather, definitely. The ‘maybe’ was quite silly in that context. It was more than certain as a thing—if there had been less heat. 

Despite the lack of sunshine, in fact, the temperature in the Castle had gotten quite high. It felt like being in a desert. Having gone from cold to damp, and from damp to almost boiling was quite stifling and made her feel a little disoriented. 

She felt the heat entering her lungs mixed with oxygen and it was as if it was leaving a heavy internal furrow in her. As if it was partially burning them out of her. 

Claire could then feel the sweat moving rapidly down her neck in the direction of her spine and gradually lower and lower. 

Although she was avoiding overexerting herself—treating the cracks she could get to and occasionally creating Shadow Portals to check where others were at—she was, to say the least, covered in them, which made her feel the impelling desire for a bath building up in the background. 

She was already starting to get used to the weird exotic spa tubs, so that would be no problem. It always felt strange to enter the room, but everything else was nothing short of phenomenal. They were warm, big, and relaxing—most of all relaxing, yeah. So much so that she was sure she could have fallen asleep in them if she had not been careful enough. 

The problem was more just what Douxie had said. Entering the dimension inside the flower had done a number on Camelot. Being at a good point or not, it seemed that the further one went into it, the more splits ran through the white rock everywhere. If the raven-haired boy had really done it all by himself as he thought he had to do, she rather doubted that he would have been able to make it to the bottom without collapsing to the ground, totally exhausted—Only at that thought, she felt unnerved with Merlin again. The Sorcerer had to keep his priority straight, really. And the way he acted around Douxie, like he was an object or just someone to order around, was even more unnerving—In herself, even just now, she was beginning to doubt that they would be able to actually do it and have time to give themselves a rinse before leaving. 

Just the idea of getting on the road, already sweaty and hot, did not appeal to her all that much. 

Having her clothes clinging to her skin and the armor weighing down on her and making it hard to breathe, making her sweat even more… was definitely unpleasant even in her imagination. 

It reminded her of one of the summer afternoons when she had found herself at a Papa Skull concert with Mary, Darcy, and the latter's mother, waiting since seven in the morning in line. The sun had beaten all over her head, but the fruit candy and passing water-spraying vehicles had helped. 

In this case, she had only a Nougat Nummy, which had been given to her by Toby while they had been preparing supplies and which she had shoved into one of her pants pockets. 

Claire covered a couple more of the cracks, then decided to eat it without thinking too much about it. It was really too hot. She needed some sugar. 

That was before she got up again and found herself in front of some stairs leading downward, where she saw Nari and Archie walking by, staring straight ahead.

"Oh, hey!" She found herself exclaiming, quickening her pace—going as far as two steps at a time, skipping them smoothly, but then forcing herself to be careful to avoid slipping or dropping the bucket—while the two stopped in place, waiting for her to catch up with them.

"How's it going for you?" She asked once she succeeded, setting her instruments on the ground. 

"The West Wing is finished," replied Nari, also appearing a bit heated, making air with roots, all piled together until a certain point, where they came back to split into four parts, rotating as if they were fan blades. 

'It must be quite useful to have them,' she thought, looking at them with mild surprise and enjoying the air coming from their movement. ' Did she have them from the beginning or did they sprout after a while?'

"The higher you go, the fewer cracks there are," Archie added almost immediately afterward, flapping his wings repeatedly before allowing himself to land on a step. "The ones at the base are no worse than the ones in the yard."

'Thank goodness.’ she sighed with relief. The one that had formed below her had frightened her enough. More because of how unexpected it had been than anything else. It had been wide enough and very dangerous, but not enough to be really serious. 

If there were no really serious ones in the Wing they had checked, then perhaps the others had also been saved from the worst damage. It was not certain, of course, but she could hope for it.

Working in the central part of the South had not given her much clarity in this regard. But counting that it was going down instead of up, that had to be why these were increasing the more she proceeded. 

"When I checked them, the others had almost finished in the East one. The North Wing was almost halfway if I'm not mistaken." She found herself saying, her gaze falling on the broken objects for the umpteenth time. "I don't know now, though."  

"Well, we'd better stop for a while. We've done more than..." began Archibald, however, unable to finish his sentence, suddenly stiffening as if he had been struck by an electric shock. His ears tensed and began to move from side to side a little. 

Then the dragon turned his head sharply in the direction of one of the many windows, just as Nari did, almost at the same time. Claire found herself directing her attention to what the two were looking at, at first not noticing anything unusual, but suddenly feeling tension forming in her stomach. 

Only after about ten seconds did she find herself opening her eyes wide, finally seeing what the two had sensed earlier. 

Red bugs. Many, many red bugs moved in unison as if forming a long, compact line that never stood still. 

They were all quite large, but it was not at all clear what type they were. The only clear things were that these had wings, they were definitely not ladybugs, and that while they had been rather quiet at first, after passing by the side of the window, they had become quite the opposite. So loud. So, weirdly, absurdly loud.

"What the...?" She murmured confusedly, her mouth remaining half-open for a moment or two before closing dramatically upon seeing how they started to enter the walls, passing through the places where the glass was missing. And they seemed to be pointing at the three of them with a particular dedication. A fact not at all reassuring, especially counting how many there were. 

'Holy shish-kebab!'

Chapter Text

TRACK 22

Baby can you move it round the rhythm

Cause you know we're living

in the fast lane, speed up

It ain't no game, 

just turn up all the beams

when I come up on the scene

(Lone Digger - Caravan Palace) 

********

Archibald instantly tried to set them on fire, not allowing himself to mull anything over. There were many of them, they were apparently angry or determined to go against them, and… better to avoid putting doubts in the mouths of creatures they did not know at all. Had he been certain they meant no harm, he would not have done so, but something told him the complete opposite in this case. 

The flame, as extensive as it could, enveloped the insects in front entirely. Those further back got in the middle of it as a consequence. And he extended the blaze to make sure it hit the remaining ones as well, wanting to get as many of them out of the way as possible. 

He stopped firing after about twenty seconds or so, casting a glance first at Nari and then at Claire. And returning later to look ahead. 

Instead of finding numerous charred insect corpses, these stood motionless in the air. Fluttering in place as if he hadn't hit them at all, still in their numerous—definitely too composed for his taste—swarming. 

He tried again a second time when they resumed moving, trying to warm his own flame more, but the second attempt also resulted in outright failure. 

From this, Archie saw the other two set to work in turn practically in unison after brief explanations and hasty concordances composed of glances and mild nods. He felt, in the process, his fur rise as they did so.

Nari created a subspecies of shield. It was, of course, composed of dense brambles that did not seem to have the slightest space for the creatures to pass through. It surrounded them on one side, pushing them to the other side, giving them only one path to take. 

A path where Claire opened a Shadow Portal almost even without blinking, but taking in and out oxygen, her arms perfectly in place. Her posture was almost perfect and her magic came out with a strong vigor, creating the Shadow Portal before waiting a few sets of seconds for it to close around the creatures. 

It seemed to work, for when both the brambles and the portal vanished, the insects were already gone.

But they didn't even have time to breathe a small sigh of relief that they came back and reappeared out of nowhere, as if ripping through space during the time of their passing, leaving blackish holes in the air at short notice. 

Nari therefore tried to trap them in a simple enclosed cage, composed entirely of dense plants tightly tangled together. All she needed was a raised hand and the spreading of her own magic to create it. It took extremely little time and a serious concentrated look to get results. And a vague silence mixed with their faint sounds. They were buzzing in the cage all at once, almost creepily. It was definitely worse than the sound of the cicadas on summer evenings.

Archie let himself scan the plant prison for a few moments, waiting for signs that something was wrong before sighing, pulling up his glasses with one paw, and wagging his tail. "...We're off to a good start," he mumbled in a drawl, sniffing. "I guess we'd better warn Merlin about these creatures."

"Do you think there are more of them around?" Asked Claire, appearing partly nervous but visibly trying to keep calm, taking repeated deep breaths.

"I wouldn't be surprised," he found himself answering, trying to avoid a too-direct and acidic 'yes' that would probably have agitated her more. Which they did not need right now, really.

The inconvenient fact of those things was sure that the barrier would take the magic away from everyone, so if any were found beyond it, Nari could not trap them a second time. And that was quite troubling as a possibility. 

"If they're an acclimated part of this dimension, it's more than likely," Nari quipped, her gaze focused on the cube of plants, before turning her attention away from it and back to the two of them. "This ecosystem is unknown to all of us. The only one who knows about it… is Dalai Sun."

'Yeah. He, who has lived in it for a millennium and something. He must have had a lot of fun.' Archie thought, unable to hold back internal sarcasm and letting a small snort escape. 

They didn't have time to turn and make to get away from there when the cage suddenly exploded—all the brambles had been reduced to sieve in the center of them—stripping a choked cry from Claire as they threw themselves back at them.

It alarmed Archie to such an extent that every inch of his body screamed at him to throw himself into the attack immediately to defend them. His fur all stood up straight and he could not help but turn into a Panther to be faster, still blowing fire and showing his teeth and nails. 

There were too many of them to take them one by one, scratch or bite them, and move on to the next. In the time of attacking one by one, there was the probability of being attacked by a dozen of them at the same time… but he could not stand still and do nothing about it. Every hit still did not work but stopped them shortly in their movements.

Nari started to hit them with various roots, going so far as to crush them between one thing and another. But even once jostled, crushed, slapped, skewered, or tied, those things would neither cease flying nor attacking. Archie found himself stepping in front of Claire and shielding her with a flare as he saw how many insects had set out to aim at her unison—and her shadow orbs started to take slightly longer to appear than the blows the semi-goddess delivered, whether they had effect or not. 

More than one of the many insects managed to reach the Dragon anyway in between things, going to bite his right paw. Each bite was an explosive dose of pain that briefly paralyzed his muscles and caused him first to hold his breath and then to hiss. 

He heard Claire's voice shout his name, but it became almost a background before the irritation that began to run through his veins tore through him. A hoarse, irate, threatening growl—that was particularly low in volume—came out from his mouth. 

The rage, however, did not stop him from being shocked to see the insects fall to the ground, stone-dead after they detached themselves from his hurt limb. Something as anomalous as it was absurd.

Part of Archie, in all that mess, hoped that Douxie would not rush in at all to try to help them in case he sensed his emotions clearly, albeit so distantly—He was actually too far to be able to if he was still in the Castle Wing he had been working on—or if his Instincts kicked in. He was already struggling to defend Claire, let alone protect his Mage and her at the same time. 

He could not hear his thoughts and feelings right now, not clearly, they overlapped too much. Same with the distant whispering of his thoughts. Had he made an effort, he would have been able to do so—both to listen and to talk to him—counting that they were active again, but he avoided it, returning rather to the attack. He was kind of occupied, really.

********

"But don't you feel hot? It's awful muggy," Jim said to Toby, seeing how his best friend seemed totally unperturbed by the temperature, while he felt almost disoriented by it, often searching for cool parts in the wall with his hands and unfortunately finding very few. 

"No..." replied Tobes immediately, taking on a worried expression as he did so. "Are you alright, Jimbo?"

Jim opened and closed his mouth, not knowing what to say. So it was not normal for him to feel this way? Maybe not. "Just… hot all over," he asserted in a mumble. 

"Maybe you have a bit of a fever?" He asked, approaching him and resting his hand on his forehead—having to put himself on his toes a bit to succeed—frowning and taking on a confused expression. "Ah. Stone cold …” he said. “I should have expected that, maybe."

A smile and a slight chuckle escaped Jim before he became more serious again. "...It's still new to me, too, in some ways." 

"Maybe we should ask Blinky and Aaarrrgh? Maybe there is a fever for Trolls… If there is, they surely know how to handle it if you have it," he said, lowering himself a bit, no longer being on his toes. "I don't seem to have ever seen them have a fever, though. Nor do I remember them talking about something similar. But it could be, couldn't it?” He paused. "Did the book... Uh... ‘A brief recapitulation’ mention it?"

"Not that I remember, no." He arched his eyebrow, finding himself straining his mind as much as he could between memories. "But I don't even remember reading anything about the Herd Instinct... or the..." he blanked. What exactly was the name that Troll had called it? It was something to do with attraction, but he couldn't really put his finger on it. All he knew was that it was the first time he had heard it. 

'Maybe... Oh, yes!'  

 "...Or of Individual Magnetism. Unless I had removed it altogether. Or unintentionally skipped it."

It might as well have been. Both cases. Some of the information in the book had gotten into his head pretty well, but the others? They were a bit foggy, pounded out by the constant activities that had colored his days. It was hard to live normally with the title of Trollhunter which seemed to have drawn a big exclamation point on his back for magical creatures, especially ill-disposed ones. 

"Another reason to ask then," said Tobes, suddenly quickening his pace upon seeing a crack in the floor, left in a corner, which he went to cover in a hurry before returning to him. 

"You're right." He barely nodded, starting to air himself with his free hand and laughing when his best friend started to do the same with his own. But to him.

His good mood disappeared, however, with a wave of tension that made him stiffen from head to toe, a feeling of danger that manifested with it, and every hair on his body suddenly standing up. 

‘Speaking about the devil…’

His mind jumped up practically on its own, instantly suggesting to him who was in danger. 

"Something's wrong," he asserted, immediately looking for the quickest way out of the Lower North Wing and into the South Central Wing instead, leaving the bucket on the ground and tracing his fingers over the Rune that still marked his skin. He started to run after also casting a glance at Toby, but just a little later than when he had returned it with as much alarm, in the process of them both running as fast as they could, a Shadow Portal appeared. Claire, Nari, and Archie emerged from it, breathing heavily. 

His girlfriend closed it behind her back instantly. However, she was not fast enough to avoid the passage of about five big red insects, resembling some sort of winged centipede. 

Archibald promptly set fire to them, or at least, tried to. Although he did, they did not die at all. They came out completely intact, as if he hadn't even tried, fluttering around the surroundings somewhat confusedly for long enough for Claire to create another Portal in a hurry, without explanation. 

They jumped in together all in unison, ending up in another part of the castle. Steve let out a little squeal upon seeing them, while Sir. Galahad, who had been on his back, turned with a confused frown written on his face. 

"What is going on here?" Asked the Knight, before anyone between Jim and Toby could even open his mouth, asking the exact same question. 

"Many, many aggressive giant bugs that don't die..." replied Archibald, dry and visibly annoyed, going to lick himself above his right front paw. "...Except after they bite you."

"And they don't get trapped in the Shadow Realm. They come out of it easily," added Claire. “We tried.”

This was very, very strange. It had never happened before.

"Giant bugs?" Steve blanched and his voice came out particularly high-pitched. "And how exactly are they? Are they dangerous? And how giant is giant, exactly?" 

“They are like this.” Claire tried to give their shape dimension between her indexes. 

"We don't know exactly what they truly do," Nari said slowly. "I've never seen creatures with characteristics like that before. The most similar is the Sanshichu, but it’s not them." She then added, staying very close to Archie and Claire and looking first one and then the other straight in the eye. All the while Jim found himself staring at the various bright red markings glimpsed among all the Dragon's black fur with wide eyes.

"...Can I see it?" The half-goddess asked again, diverting Jim's attention away from Archie and taking it in the direction of Claire, to whom the question had been directed, alarming him for a second time within minutes.

Claire nodded, immediately lifting one sleeve of her shirt, drenched in sweat. She too had red marks, but there were only two and they were wider than Archibald's, one a short distance from the other. They were definitely worse than simple mosquito bites. 

"Do they hurt?" He asked, both to her and to the Dragon, the worry exploding in his chest and making it difficult for him to swallow, driving him even closer than he already was. 

The mental image of the moths and the black liquid returned to land in his head, though he banished it as quickly as he could. He didn't have to think about it.  

Concern and nervousness were also painted on everyone else's faces, however. 

Archie simply shook his head. "Just an annoyance for me."

"For me, too," she said, staring at herself with a puzzled look. "They hurt more when they bit, but now I don't feel it anymore… except that I feel it swollen and it bothers me."

"So they're kind of like bees? Pain, but then nothing too bad, and... they die right after?" Asked Toby. 

"So it seems..." replied Nari, thoughtfully. "But there are so many of them in the castle... Maybe the consequences of the bite, if any, increase in how many times this happens?" Nari went to look at Archie, who had already stopped cleaning his fur and seemed more than ready to take flight. His muzzle showed a mixture of not knowing and frustration. Not pain.

“Doesn’t seem so to me,” he said. “But I really don’t know. If something changes, I’ll tell you.”

"Well, whether we do or not, in any case, we need to catch up with the others as well. And then we'll see what to do," said Jim. 

His friends all agreed in unison. Yet another Portal was formed. They all jumped into it almost instantly, one after another.

********

"What did you want me for, Master?" Asked Douxie, entering the study and closing the door behind him, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and partly wanting to look if he had a fan inside the bracelet storage. 

Hisirdoux had not finished closing the cracks in the castle, but a sentry from Merlin had made an appearance during his work, inviting him to join him as soon as possible. And although there was a bad feeling beating at one side of his brain and being, making him feel all his hair standing on end, he had done it.

He was not able to tell one hundred percent whether it was the Instinct or not, something that made him want to do whatever this was as fast as he could. But he still obeyed his Master's request, whether he wanted it or not. 

He was a little bit tense, and at the same time extremely curious about what he might want to talk to him about. 

The Sorcerer's gaze came upon him when he got inside the room, stopping in place. His hands were resting on the table and his expression was absolutely unreadable. Hisirdoux ended up shifting his weight from one leg to the other below it just because of it. 

After a small moment of silence and waiting—which was far too long for his liking, especially since he still wanted to check out for his Familiar as soon as possible, especially sensing a jumble of emotions running around, terribly unclear—Merlin moved away from his position, stepping closer to him, still maintaining his composed air.

"You need this," he said, going to cast a glance into the side of the room he had not even paid attention to while entering, being too busy pulling straight ahead to pay attention to what was in the corner of the study. 

He took a little too much time to get to the conclusion of what he was really meaning, anyway, counting that it wasn’t something lacking inside the castle. When he actually understood that what he was watching was actually it, he could not hold back an expression as confused as it was shocked, which then changed to terrified and perplexed. 

It was a bloody armor, left on what was similar to a mannequin, this time, as it was not enchanted. The mannequin was shorter than he was, as the boots were left on the floor near it. 

It was mostly black—the material told him something because of how weirdly shiny it was. It was not just metal. The alloy had gemstones set into it. But among the three thousand stones swirling around in his head, especially the many black ones, he could not identify which one it was just at first glance. It was well hidden in the metal. It would probably have taken Alice three seconds to identify it, though, counting that it was her field through and through. Still, it was definitely eluding him—with parts showing some cobalt blue shades—pieces of Agate? Perhaps?—and small white veins that run around it. 

The armor, then, had runes engraved on his shoulder guards: Algiz and Thurisaz, both runes of defense and protection—which, yes, would not work without being able to use magic, just like Jim's Amulet, but were still quite useful outside the barrier. 

The helmet even went to cover the face like a motorcycle one and had small blue horns that looked somewhat like those of a dragon. Just like the armor seemed to be made of small scales in certain places. Which was really cool to look at, actually.

It was beautiful, really. It was well made and everything. It was… even of his favorite colors, although Douxie doubted that his Master had made it aesthetically like that just as a matter of look… Really, it was beautiful. 

But the more Hisirdoux looked at it, the more he ran his gaze over all its pieces… and the smaller and more confused he felt. 

"What..." he mouthed, continuing to shift his gaze from it to his Master, not knowing where to keep his gaze.

A simple "Why?" slipped from his lips, totally uncontrolled, before Douxie instantly went to bring his hand to his mouth and mentally cussed at how ungrateful and rude he must have sounded. 

"I mean... I'm extremely grateful, Master, but I've never needed armor before..." he moved his hand from his mouth to the back of his neck, twinges of anxiety churning in his stomach. "Why now?"

"For that very reason," said Merlin in a flat, serious voice. "You've never needed it before. In this case, however, you no longer have to just clean and run around the place." He paused. "And once beyond that barrier, you won't have your magic at your disposal. You need to be well protected."

Well, he was right about that, okay. But he had always done without anyway! Sure, he had also been hurt often, but… him? For him to have to wear armor? Really? 

He didn't want to reject it, no, it would have been a huge mistake to even try, but it seemed so wrong and… weird! So... so damn inappropriate for someone like him! Like… like a tuxedo on a horse! 

He would have felt less ridiculous at the idea of having to put on one of those gaudy suits that Abba had worn during the Waterloo performance!—In fact, maybe that one would have even appreciated it eventually, but who knows how tight and uncomfortable it must have been. Or maybe it was just an appearance and nothing more? He was almost interested in that

An armor on him? It was wrong in every way. It was a waste if someone like him wore it. It would have been a thousand times better if he had given it to someone else. 

He was not a Knight. He had nothing that could have defined him as a Knight, and maybe on the one hand it was better that way. He was not a nobleman. It made no sense for him to own an armor!

"You're the only one who doesn't have it at the moment," his Master said during Douxie’s silence, turning his back on him again and going back to looking at the windows. "It would be risky and stupid not to have it. And if you got hurt, you would eventually slow us down."

That one sentence made him feel as if Merlin had just slapped him. He barely swallowed, the lump forming and locking in his throat. He held his breath unwillingly. 

He didn't want to slow anyone down. No, he was not supposed to be a burden. He wasn't supposed to mess it up or come close again to do it. He wasn't supposed to, no. He didn't have to, didn't… he wasn't going to be a problem for anyone. Not even for his stupid mind fits and the clashing of his ideas with what should have been logical. Not even for how ridiculous and wrong he would feel. Not even for how he struggled not to feel new sensations of acid forming in his mouth at even the idea of having such a thing on him. 

It was a promise. He would not be the past, disappointing, stupid, useless self. He would do what his Master wanted. He would do everything for him and to help out. He had to demonstrate that he wasn’t that child anymore, no matter what.

He tried to nod, but realized that the Sorcerer would not see him since his back was turned—Why would he see him? Why? There was no reason for him to do so unless he really showed him something. 

"...Okay, I'll put it on," he said, therefore in a whisper, his voice struggling to come out. 

And he forced himself to advance toward the armor as if everything was utterly fine. As if his hands were not shaking a little and itching with the desire to get into his hair and start to pull as hard as he could. As if the weight of those pieces of metal was not already almost unbearable just looking at it. 

The knot in his throat persisted to stay. 

Before he could even lay a finger on it, however, he stopped. The sight of a Portal not far from him was enough to freeze him in place, leaving him to listen to its melody. It was visibly agitated, the notes seemed to have no pause and chased each other with something slightly discordant.

This time—maybe because his mind had been too far elsewhere to have time to process the unexpectedness of the arrival and allow himself to be taken aback—he managed to avoid jerking and making unwanted noises. 

All, but really all the Guardians came out, one after another, Sir. Galahad included, though his expression showed mild discontent. Whether it was because he did not like the means of transportation or something else was unclear. 

Archie immediately went to fly beside him. Douxie’s eyes caught immediately the red stains tracing one of his paws and the sight led them to go wide in horror.

"What the...?" He muttered, unable to finish his own question, too stunned to have any results. Immediately he grabbed his Familiar, hearing Archie only partly grumbling mentally at how indelicate his grip had been—a detail he passed over completely—and began checking each mark. Pure worry and tension attacked his brain and chest. 

There did not appear to be any poison. There was no blood either. There didn't seem to be any burns or pus that could signal anything much, much worse, like a curse of some kind. It was just quite red in several places. 

‘Why are you like this? What happened?’  

He laid eyes on the others to see if they had any themselves. It didn't look like it, on the surface. He wasn’t near enough to be sure of it.

"Giant flying insects in the castle that seems impossible to kill bit us," summed up Claire hurriedly, noticing his confused look. 

‘What?... Us?’ 

‘Me and her. But I’m fine, stop worrying.’

Douxie looked in Claire’s direction again, his eyes open wide. “Are you alright?” He asked, receiving her nod shortly after and a soft "Yes, I'm okay." That reassured him a little. He then went back to Archie, still anxious enough to recheck the red spots.

'Bugs that are impossible to kill, huh?' 

This was new. This was definitely new.  

Sure, there had been some big bugs in Arcadia eating electrical appliances—for the great wrath of Zoe who had been cursing for hours and hours and had lost patience when they had gobbled up her old cell phone—but... at least those were dying with loud music! 

"They aren't necessarily invincible," observed Archie suddenly out loud, leading him to arch an eyebrow. And making the others look just as confused. "But by our means at that moment, they had been." 

"Not fire, not exile to the Shadow Realm or Shadow Magic by all means, not capture and not physical force," Nari observed, nodding. "Other options still might be there."

Douxie found himself nodding slightly. The options were many, yes, though those available to their magic were a lot less.

"Lady Claire, I would ask you to go into more detail about what happened," asserted his Master seriously. The girl, after a slight nod, albeit tense, started to explain the events. 

It was also all too brief as a speech—to which Nari added herself with some comments, saying that they had no magical Aura, nor a Core of arthropods or distinct animals—and at its conclusion left more question marks than answers. 

The Sorcerer's expression, during it, did not change much except that his forehead betrayed a few more wrinkles. 

"I see," he said finally, dryly, pausing very slightly. "I'll take care of it when they reappear, assuming they attack us on sight a second time."

"Master..." Concern led him to look at Merlin, letting Archie take flight again, even though he partly wouldn't have wanted to. He still disliked the marks that traced his paw and wished he could check them better. "What do we do now? It is no longer safe to stay in the Castle if they cross the barrier without any problems. And if they are a local species, it is not safe for Sir. Galahad either." 

Merlin looked at him and nodded. "We'll have to leave Camelot unprotected, but there is no other way," he paused. "Give yourselves a quick rinse, you smell like Kappas." He asserted, mostly casting a glance at the Knight, though the man did not take it badly at face value, muttering something about 'manly perfumes' that was overpowered by his Master's new talking. "Then we all leave right away. We go the last part of the way with the Rescue Shuttle. We are less close than hoped, but close enough," he replied solemnly, going to grab his own Staff. 

That they were all stinking badly was not a surprising thing because of how hard they had worked and the tremendous heat, but having little time and being in several, well, it made it all rather uncomfortable. 

'The square tub in your room?’ thought Archie, leading him to look at it. 

A bit dangerous and exposed, because he couldn't know where those creatures were. And much, much more uncomfortable than the tubs in the spa, so much so that he felt a backache just thinking about it, but... 'Absolutely.'

“There are small tubs in most of the bedrooms,” he said, getting near to the others. “We have no time to do turns for the public baths.”

He was gonna fill them all with his Magic if needed. He was pretty sure that the Taps in there weren't working anymore, just like those in the kitchens before they were fixed. 

********

Fortunately, by the time Douxie had given himself a hasty—the quickest as possible—wash, changed clothes, and returned outside the walls of Camelot as fast as he could, of the creatures there had not been a soul. Maybe the dimension of the Castle had given them problems, or maybe not. Still, wherever they were, they weren’t near the corridors of the normal servitude.

The armor was quite uncomfortable. No, okay, it wasn't that it was uncomfortable per se, but the lack of habit made it feel that way to him. It was stiff and heavy compared to the freedom of a black sweatshirt and jeans or leather pants. For the most part, the tremendous heat did not help to improve that perception, so much so that he felt as if he had not washed at all. 

But worst of all was the helmet. It was stifling. It was closed up to the point that he felt like he could see a third of what he should have been able to glimpse in it. It stuck all of his hair to his face, so much so that he would not have been surprised if, when it was removed, he found his face splotched with tomato-red spots and traversed by strands scattered in the most disparate ways. 

Those on motorcycles were not usually light, no—Simon's was weighted quite a bit—but this one especially made him feel as if gravity had gained weight all at once.

It wasn't just that, then. There was some strange thing about that armor, really. Only he couldn't figure out what it was at all. And if, above all, it was just a feeling he had. He felt like... Isolated. The same perception of the Aura of the barrier in the distance seemed lower in volume. Again—he still didn't try to look at it, not even wanting to venture to do so. 

'Maybe it's just a feeling because I don't see the situation with a good eye? Maybe I'm getting too many bad ideas... Arch?' 

'I don’t know. Maybe?'

Getting on the shuttle with the armor on made him feel like he was walking on eggshells. It was as if he was about to lurch backward at the slightest movement. It was awkward, really. He honestly didn't know how Steve had gotten used to his own in less than five minutes. Douxie doubted he could. Maybe it was his fault. 

When he was on board, his gaze fell on the bags resting in the corner and on his Master, who had already inserted the Staff into the slot to lead the shuttle. 

He took a big deep breath and approached him, tightening his lips. Merlin turned only for a moment and arched an eyebrow before turning back to look at the horizon, and Douxie found himself totally uncomfortable and speechless, so much so that he ended up falling silent.

One question, however, rose to his mind suddenly, driven mainly in his reaching to stare at his own pair of gloves, where Nari's Guarantee had disappeared, although he had not at all paid attention to when exactly. He had been lucky that it had. Nari must have thought of taking it away for him, probably as soon as she had been able to, while he had forgotten to change them when they had returned to Camelot with the second pair—he had been too caught up in everything else. Especially Zoe’s lack of response, a fact that had not changed… or so he thought. His phone, except for music and photos, had completely gone off! It was almost utterly useless right now. Even if Ashildr had answered him, he could not know. 

'If he had caught you with that, that would have been a problem.'

'...Yeah, a very big one, too.'

Having a Guarantee was of no use at all in simply taking a breath of air and visiting. He would have had no excuses to give him. He would have had to explain what had happened for real.

"Master..." he began with a little uncertainty, bringing the Sorcerer's gaze to rest on him a second time. "I wanted to ask… I wanted to ask if you knew of a case or more of a Herd Instinct being activated for the first time in less than two weeks." 

'In less than three days, but yeah.'

'Yes, okay, Archie, please. No need for being extra precise in details right now.'

"It is not possible," Merlin said point blank, not even thinking about it for more than a second. "The magical bond is not formed quickly, Hisirdoux. It’s not an easy matter, nor something you can get to move faster."

"Yes, I know… I know that. But..." he was tempted to put a hand in his hair, but he only ended up smashing it against the surface of the helmet, letting out a grimace of pain. Both from his palm and from the noise that echoed in his ears. "Not even a small one as an exception? One due to… magical energies around or something? Or…" he wrinkled his nose and frowned. 

Merlin shook his head, his expression serious and unbothered. “Except by bonds of connected souls, as you should know from experience, it is not feasible.”

Well. Wonderful. This didn't clarify the Instinct's connection between him, Jim, and Claire at all. And Douxie knew full well that the three of them didn't have the soul bond. He and Archie had, with the tattoo that had formed on both of them after the whole ritual… But the three of them? No way.

He would have noticed something like that. So, how they sensed the Herd Instinct in his direction was an absolute mystery to him. It should have not been possible, but they had described the exact 'symptoms' . 

He didn't know if he felt it in their direction, considering that nothing had yet happened that could make it one hundred percent clear to him. The danger that he had felt, he had felt it, but neither in the first nor in the second case had he felt it with certainty... And it had been perceived mainly because of Archie. That was for sure. 

"Why these questions, Hisirdoux?" Asked his Master, returning to look first straight ahead and then around himself.

"Well, uh, we... It seems like me and..." Douxie couldn't finish his sentence, finding himself turning sharply at the sound of footsteps, which made him tense up briefly before realizing that it was Nari, Jim, Blinky, Aaarrrgh, and Steve.

'Ok, I need to calm down,' he thought. 

"Black and blue?" The blond boy's voice exploded practically instantly when his eyes landed on him, awe written on his face before shaking his head a little. "Why didn't anyone tell me that it was possible to customize the armor with interesting features instead of just keeping it gray?"

"It suits you." The half-deity intervened instead, tilting her head for just a second as she scrutinized him—all while Steve let out one last series of offended comments and Jim retorted something that his hearing hadn't caught, but which was served to silence him with a pout—and then smiled.

"Thank you..." he replied softly, even if he still wasn't convinced at all by it. It continued to be too much for him. The feeling hadn't shaken off him at all and it didn't seem to have any intention of doing so. "...The others?"

"Tobes is almost done. Claire is already done, but she is waiting both for him and Sir. Galahad." Said Jim.

"Oh," Douxie raised his eyebrow. Hopefully, the Knight wouldn't take too long. "Well then..."

He was interrupted again in a very short amount of time, with one of the glass windows that had supported the passage of the Portal breaking drastically, the swarm of insects pouring out, almost in unison.

He immediately prepared to run his fingers over the runes by instinct, but he felt himself being pushed back by Master Merlin as if he were too much where he was. 

Merlin immediately lifted his staff after he did so. A jet of green light streamed out of it. But anyway, other than the impact on the walls and the smoke that came out, there didn't seem to be any problems with the creatures. In fact, they continued to fly straight towards them as if it hadn't even made a dent.

"Master, I can try to help..." he tried to say, taking a hasty step forward. Doing more enchantments at the same time raised the possibility of having a clean hit that could have worked through them. 

"No. Don't." Merlin snapped at him, immediately conjuring another spell. Also unsuccessful, although he stopped them for a few moments in the air, paralyzed by Telekinesis. "I will take care of it."

"But I can at least…"

"Don't argue with me. Just do as I told you!" He said—and almost shouted—visibly annoyed, turning around for a second only to give him a fiery look that this time made him step back slightly. 

Douxie couldn't understand why he was so angry all of a sudden. He didn't feel like he had done anything bad. He was just trying to help, wasn't he? Where was the problem in this?

Merlin unleashed a great whirlwind of air, pushing them all backward and increasing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. At that moment he turned around and immediately started to approach the main departure station again.

"But we need to…" he tried to insist again, even if half-heartedly, more confused than anything else. 

"No!" 

Behind him—though Douxie didn't really notice—Claire, Toby, and Sir. Galahad appeared. All three in turn boarded the shuttle and it rose with the magic of his Master, leaving at maximum speed, so much so that Hisirdoux forced himself to grab the railing to avoid being thrown out.

"But Master, the…" 

"I said no!" he screamed, panting a little after that. "You won't do anything. Stop insisting or I will muzzle you." 

That shut him up instantly, making him close his mouth, this time holding his breath and biting back something that could have flowed out of it. 

It took a lot—for his own senses, at least—but the vehicle ended up being stable. 

Once it did, albeit still going very fast, and with the creatures still at its heels, the Sorcerer spoke again, saying something that he definitely did not expect to hear.

If the previous, past comment about 'slowing them down' had slapped him in the face, what he said in this case seemed to kick him straight in the stomach, as he felt his heartbeat stop for an instant. 

Frustration, shock, confusion, and despondency crossed his gaze in sequence as his lips failed to form a decent word. Air and saliva caught in his throat and he found himself staring at him, feeling absolutely nothing anymore for a few moments. Not the wind rushing past him. Not the Guardians who were supposedly all around him. Not Archie , both in and out. 

They were simple words—not many, but too many for him—that cut through the cacophony again… and not just for him, as everyone fell silent with equally shocked and confused expressions. Even the Knight was perplexed by him. They reduced the raven-haired wizard to complete silence, a harsh sensation occupying his mouth. Douxie didn't even notice yet another spell being cast by Merlin, which also didn't achieve even the slightest result.

“I don't want your magic,” he had said. "Nor need your assistance."

Chapter Text

TRACK 23

You were pacing, I was insecure

Slip and fall I got the calls of the prison I was living in

Yeah yeah and it's okay

I tie my hands up to a chair so I don't fall that way

Yeah yeah and I'm alright

I took a sip of something poison but I'll hold on tight

(Helena Beat- Foster the People) 

********

Alice had no idea how she had managed to maintain a calm expression and relaxed voice during the car call she had had with Douxie. 

She had started out being so, but already upon receiving—at the first few seconds—the request to censor the entire conversation with her Oval Lithium-Mica stone—which Munchkin knew full well that it was one among several gemstones she always kept between her pants pocket. It was with the heart-shaped Beryl and a few others, just as around her neck she always had a necklace composed of Pear Boji, Aquamarine, and Jade—had made her realize that something was wrong.

Hearing what the situation was had made her feel a cramp form in her stomach and her breathing quickened only to stop dramatically. Because that was bad. Really, really bad. She should have known that like yesterday. She should have tried to help out like yesterday, too. Holy crap.

Magical creatures, mostly Mages, who wanted to eliminate Human Beings. Just as some Human Beings had wanted to do with magical creatures before. 

It seemed a constant circling in shared hatred. A constant bloodshed because of species differences that they could not get over. It was frustrating. 

Was it so hard to accept each other? Was it so hard to realize that the world was beautiful because it was diverse and not simply locked into one repetitive, stereotypical category? Because, yeah, it became stereotypical when they forced you to follow a rulebook on which you had to base your entire existence. It was boring. And wrong. 

Douxie was right. Something needed to be done. And as soon as possible, too, though she would surely have to ask her teacher to pause her training. 

Alice did not even know how she was continuing to smile and pretend to be calm and happy in being surrounded by both Miss. Emerald and by the two witches to whom the woman had taken her. Not with so many thoughts going through her head. 

They were both old women, strange but true. They must have developed their magic quite late or managed not to have Bursts somehow. 

In any case, one of the two sorceresses, Helena, was very rigid, with a rather closed view of things—and a sour stubbornness. Not counting her long, venomous tongue about certain things, for how much she had gathered—but with a lot of precious stones, also quite peculiar and rare, perfectly manicured, so much so that their Core seemed to glow with purity—and she was the one who had partly taught Miss. Emerald about magic. 

The other, however, was Minerva, a kind-looking apparently blind witch with a talent for wood magic only—or so she said—and with a pretty brown Owl as her Familiar. She kept trying to get her to eat some Kataifi as if it were a matter of vital importance—And as if she were her distant niece or the like, which was not possible, especially since her family had never been of that sort, unfortunately—and...yes, those treats were very good, but it was a little difficult to get anything down with a suddenly closed stomach. 

"You look a little lost, Alice dear," jumped up Miss. Emerald, leading her to realize that she had become so entranced staring into the void that the two women had fallen into stark silence between one thing and another, the strings of stones attached near to the windows tinkling in the wind. "Something is bothering you, perhaps? Are we getting ahead of ourselves?" 

"Ah... No, no," she said, even shaking her head. "Forgive me. I'm absolutely grateful for your support... For all of it, really. It has been such an amazing experience until now.” She breathed in and out. “But I received some news this morning and they kind of upset me..." she started to fiddle with one of her own strands of green hair, coiling it around her own ring finger. "But I'm here, mentally, now… I really am. I swear. Go… go ahead, please."

"This doesn’t seem to be the truth, sweetie," Minerva gently said, resting her left hand on her arm, her Familiar following her movement, going to reach up and tap her beak against her denim jacket sleeve. Almost instinctively, she found herself waiting for permission before patting his head. 

The feathers were soft and the owl, Milo, was so flipping cute , closing his yellow eyes under her touch. Gosh, she wanted a Familiar too, but they were so hard to find and get.

"Your Aura is somewhat tense." Continued Minerva soon after—making her feel a bit self-conscious since she was used to covering it or with the Boji that absorbed it or the Kianite that covered it—tracing small circles on her skin with her fingertips. Almost as if her skin was made of wood and she was trying to count her years like this. Or something similar, really. Still, her touch was very gentle. "It has been from the first moment you set foot in this house."

She visibly darkened and winced. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"No need to apologize." The other Witch commented, serious just like she had been before, crossing her legs under the table. She raised an eyebrow. "...There's more to apologize for that scandalous haircut and those piercings that you have."

Alice bristled at that comment. 

'Can I do what I want with my appearance without having people poking around or criticizing like this? So many flipping mumpsimus.' 

It was absurd. It was absurd that she couldn't be who she wanted to be without having people annoying her about anything, even among Mages themselves. The way she looked wasn't right. How she dressed wasn't okay, so much so that sometimes they called her a whore—without a specific reason other than the fact that she was slightly more uncovered than what they saw as consensual, though it wasn't like she was showing who knows what. Her intimate parts or her chest were perfectly covered. 

Her sexuality, especially, was not okay, for so many of them . Being bisexual, but mostly into women if she had to fall for someone, was not right, apparently. The bi-phobia was idiotically stuck inside some people’s brains, to the point that the first thing they said was ' It's just a phase.' The stupidest thing she ever heard. 

How she saw certain things in the world was not okay, too. And what the flip. Couldn't they get off their high horse, live, and let live? Was it really that complicated?

She would not go and criticize their way of being. She always tried to avoid it, even when she didn't appreciate something—like those awful flannel sweaters in rotten colors. Those were just hideous—why did they have to do it with her, then? Why? 

"Helena...!" hissed Minerva, scandalized in both expression and tone of voice. Almost scaring Milo off. "Don't let such petty things get to you, come on."

"Petty things?" She repeated, visibly piqued. "The Mages of today are no longer the serious and pristine ones they used to be! There should be more control over one's looks, avoiding passing over ridicule, but no." she huffed. "Yesterday I found myself in front of that wretched witch, all full of stupid tattoos from the arms down and with her hair completely dyed. Nice figure, that one. Nice way to seek attention." The sarcasm in her tone was obvious. 

'Funny how that would be the first reason why I'd like her, instead,' she thought, rolling her eyes and continuing to pet the Owl without saying a word, looking at the two of them surreptitiously. She kinda questioned mentally how Helena would react if she had seen the ADP tattoo hidden by the jacket sleeve. And the fact that she would have gotten more if she had enough money to get them.

They continued to argue for a while, almost repeating the same arguments over and over again. Helena's stubbornness was really an absurd thing.

"Back to the main topic," said Minerva after a while, showing a vaguely annoyed expression, while the other looked upset and crossed her arms, probably wanting to say something else. "If you need to throw something out, go ahead, sweetie."

She swallowed at her phrase, remaining silent for a couple of seconds, not having the faintest idea of what to reply, exactly. That was before she turned her head and dwelt on Miss. Emerald, who was staring at her with a furrowed brow, giving her full attention. Had Alice not been sure that she was incapable of using Legilimency, she would have wondered if she was trying to read her mind. 

Part of her would have wanted to confide about the situation. She would have liked to talk and talk and talk some more about what was going on, but—as much as she respected the talents of Witches more experienced than she was, as much as she would have done anything to repay Miss. Emerald for the help with her magic… she had promised herself that she would keep quiet about the matter. 

She would have done so only with whom she was really bonded to, to the extent that she knew perfectly well that she could trust them. She had promised herself not to involve people out of fear of what would happen next because she was scared that her expectations would be betrayed. 

And as much as she didn't want to admit it, as much as she didn't want to pay too much attention to it, Alice had already been betrayed more than once by someone close to her. And it had left a mark. 

"I think..." she murmured, moving a lock behind her ear with her free hand. "I'm really sorry, but I think I'll have to go home soon. It's urgent… and complicated." 

A shocked look was painted on Miss. Emerald and on Minerva's face. Helena simply arched her eyebrow and went to get up from her chair, disappearing into the next room only to return with a note, a kind of small gold crest to which was attached a key, a wooden box, and a bottle with some greenish substance in it. She placed the latter on the table, while she kept both the note and the coat of arms with the key. 

"Could you stay at least a little more? We would like to show you something first if you are willing to attend."

********

"Excuse you?!" Claire said angrily, unable to restrain herself, feeling her own arms shake with anger. She had tried. She had seriously tried to shut up and keep it down since earlier, but there was a limit to everything. It had been a mixture of the general nervousness churning in her stomach and seeing the hurt expression that had been painted on the raven-haired boy’s face at the Sorcerer's words. "He's just trying to help out! Why do you have to be so rude to him for something like that? It's not like you're getting that many results of your own, anyway!" 

"It isn’t a matter for you to take interest in, Lady Claire," replied the man, almost in a detached tone, even—As if talking or trying to make her understand was useless because she was too young to understand. That alone made her blood boil in her veins—as he sent a new spell against the creatures. The rescue shuttle flew fast, but not fast enough to get them off their backs. 

"What?" She said, furious and incredulous, finding herself moving forward several steps, always holding on to the rail to avoid falling or otherwise losing her balance from the jolts that shook the craft as it moved. 

"What concerns me and Hisirdoux concerns me, him and Archibald only. No one else. Do not interfere."

"That’s stupid!” She immediately rebutted, exhaling heavily and shaking even more. “And so what… you expect no one to say anything when you first order him around and everything and then treat him like this? As if he had finished his task or something and you can simply discard him?"

"Claire is right!" Jumped up Steve, as Toby verbally agreed shortly after with a “Exactly! Why so mean and rude to him for no reason? He is not doing anything wrong. All those scary flying insects are still not disappearing anyway!" 

Aaarrrgh nodded, and both Jim, Blinky, and Nari simply squared Merlin with a furrowed brow. Instead, the Knight brought only his own drink to his lips, gobbling down several sips. 

"It's not a matter of being mean or rude, chatty." He asserted, visibly annoyed. The Old Sorcerer then grimaced, returning to cast a new quick spell. It made the entire row of stones before they returned to their original state in about twenty seconds. "You just cannot understand."

"We can't understand it… or maybe your meaning only makes sense to you?" Jim questioned pointedly with a hardened stare.

Merlin Ambrosius' expression became painted with fury. "As I have already said..." he said, seriously, his gaze almost zapping them all—except Nari, the Knight, Archie, and Douxie himself—which she did not let herself be frightened by, returning it. "These are not things of your interest. And in any case, I don't need his help. "

"Oh, you can really tell!" Claire shot back, scowling and going to point to the mass of creatures with her index finger. "Don't be so full of yourself! We're in danger, and your random sticking to your own pride is not helping anyone!"

"I’m not sticking to my own pride. With or without his assistance, nothing would change,” he asserted coldly. Unnervingly cold. “Stop rebutting on it.”

A new wave of irritation gripped her from head to toe, such that a good part of her would have liked to retort again, raising her tone, that he was still the same obnoxious and stubborn old man, but she did not make it in time. Even Toby barely was able to say "Oh, come on now...!" before he was interrupted. 

"Doesn’t matter. Please calm down," commented Douxie instead, jumping back into the conversation after staying utterly silent. His gaze first was set outside where all the creatures were, but then he looked back in their direction again in a calm manner. So calm that it seemed that this whole conversation was not about him but about someone else. As if he really did not care. "This is not the moment to argue. And… Master is right, actually." 

"But bro…" 

"No, seriously. Even if I tried something it probably wouldn't help anyone. I have been insisting too much. Could have avoided it. That's all." 

Claire would have liked to counter. She would have liked to tell him that it wasn't true at all, that there was seriously nothing wrong with his offering to cooperate, but she found herself meeting the gaze of Archie, who barely shook his head in a silent ' Just don't. '

The Dragon was deadly serious; his gaze thinned, his entire body stiff and taut as a violin string, and his tail being waved every three by two, showing visible rage... But he wasn't saying anything. He was simply perched beside his Wizard, casting glances at him from time to time. 

Claire bit her lower lip, forcing herself to keep quiet and swallow her frustration. 

It almost seemed to her that some poison was lurking in her throat and that in holding back the discussion—allowing it to run through her mind for how she seriously wanted to throw it out—it was also reaching her belly, turning in on itself in all its negativity. 

It was not the right time to argue, yeah. That much was obvious. As much as Merlin's attitude was seriously getting on her nerves, continuing to argue could have led to risks, especially with those things on their tail. 

She therefore closed her fists hard, letting only her arms rest on the spacecraft to keep her own balance and avoid slipping, looking crookedly at Merlin. He was drastically ignoring her, continuing to lift his own scepter into the air from time to time. 

Claire huffed loudly just before returning her attention to Douxie. His gaze was mostly detached and empty, but it still betrayed a hint of worry and nervousness while he looked at the creatures, just like his hands were squeezing the surface of the shuttle. 

She ended up looking at the swarm, too. It continued to emerge unharmed from each spell.

The Sorcerer threw what appeared to be green lightning at them just then, but nothing could be done. They were so unharmed that it really seemed they were impossible to bring down. It was absurd.

The stings on the girl's arm continued to be a major annoyance. She was trying to ignore them as much as she could, too, but it was rather complicated. Feeling the swelling was a rather unpleasant sensation and... touching those subspecies of blisters that marked her skin was almost revolting. The idea of having even more was even worse. Especially if her entire body was covered with them, not just in a few scattered spots. 

Yet another spell was cast, but nothing. There was only a big sound, like a bang and the spacecraft even seemed to speed up, so much so that all the strands of hair in its bangs began to flail in the wind even more than before... But the chase continued anyway. 

Those creatures were stubborn and aggressive. Claire could not understand why they were like that. They hadn't done anything to them, had they? Unless they saw them entering the Dimension as the main problem. And it could have been, yeah. They were another way to carry the Keeper of Balance's defense. To keep him from being found. 

But why hide to that extent? Why go to such lengths not to be found? What was so bad that he could not want anything else than escape from it? The mages of the Crucible? Other mages or… Maybe situations he had been involved in? Wanting to escape from possible impending responsibility?

The questions disappeared at the exact moment when the shuttle had a new jolt. It was bigger and more aggressive than the previous ones and caused her to shake to such an extent that almost all of them lost their balance, ending up with their butts on the ground and struggling to get up except by clinging to the railings again. Claire managed to stay on her feet by a whisker, pressing herself as hard as she could against the surface. 

"This is not normal!" She heard Archibald shout to Merlin. The latter did not answer him verbally, about to summon a new spell, although Claire did not see him. 

The girl, from the position she was in, found herself staring down instead of up. Her gaze darted to a hint of smoke. And more red insects appeared on the sides of the shuttle from under it. 

The realization struck in little time, causing her to widen her eyes and gasp, unable to recover oxygen. 

"It's the engine!" She shouted at the top of her lungs. "They're trying to block the gears of the engine!" 

And there was nothing they could do to make them stop unless they figured out how to defeat them for good. That is if there had been any.

It was a disaster. A real, terrible disaster that worsened second after second, becoming heavier to the point that it was getting hard to breathe. 

********

"Emerald said you have a powerful attunement with the stones and their Core," Helena said, leading her down the long staircase at a rapid pace. Minerva had stayed up with her teacher, saying they would wait for them. 

"So she thinks," she replied, nodding. "It takes me some time, but usually after I connect to a specific stone for the first time, I have it pretty easy."

"How long?" She asked, her inquiring gaze resting on her. She still looked disgusted by her entire aesthetic—flipping holy crap—but at least she was trying to get over it, it seemed. 

"Uh... Between two and three days, with the easier ones. A week or two with the more complicated ones."

"A week or two?" Helena repeated. She seemed surprised, so much so that she blinked several times and stared at her in bewilderment. And then her eyes lightened a little, making her look almost amused by the news. Which was… weird?

Alice still found herself nodding in response and watched as she ran her left hand over the white silk of her shirt sleeve, fixing it. 

"... I see," she added after a while, not ceasing to advance in her descent

The more they descended, the more that long corridor looked as if it were to reach the Underworld. It was darker, much more dark… It was filled with stalactites, stalagmites, ice and crystals. Their cores started pulsing with magic after she reached the last three flights of steps.

The Aura that came from them was shared, being reflected by each one, but still incomplete for what she sensed. They were probably many pieces of one specific body, a body that she still had to see. 

"How long have you been able to connect to stones so quickly?" Helena questioned.

Alice arched her eyebrows at the question, having no idea what to answer.

In the early days, especially as a child, she had always taken the same stones from her mother's jewelry collection, putting them back in the drawer before she or her father could come home to berate her for it. 

Her magic had been activated and developed after her sister's very hurtful reaction to her refusal of their parent's wishes. She had struggled a lot to use it for the next twenty years or so and… She had continued to fight with it until… until she had met Zoe for the first time. But still, it had always taken her a long time to connect to newly bought, unknown stones. 

She had seriously started getting into it after entering the Limbo, and after connecting to Douxie's Mana for the first time, trying to link it and stabilize it better to the spirit world. All to interact nicely with Martha's Ghost. 

"Uh... For almost half a year now?" She asserted, albeit uncertain, finding herself resting her gaze on the bottom of the staircase, where there was a huge black doorway oozing with the Aura of Crystals. "I think?"

The Old Witch looked at her again, but remained silent this time, perhaps thinking about it more carefully, perhaps just letting the matter drop. Her eyes shined less now, for whatever reason.

And in that almost complete silence, they reached the door. Helena placed the crest on the surface of the wood, causing both the object and the area it touched to glow.

When she removed it, a lock had appeared. Before putting the key inside it, the woman looked at the paper, then stuck it inside, made it turn seven times to the right, three times to the left, and nine times to the right again.

The black door completely lit up, the light so intense that it made her curse under her breath, covering her face with both hands. It took a while before she could look again, but by the time she could, the color of the door had changed from black to white. It was slowly opening on its own without even making a sound, too.

"You are talented with the Stone Cores." Helena suddenly observed, speaking again. And it felt like the biggest compliment ever, even if just for a second. "But what relationship do you have with the Orbs made of precious stones?"

Alice found her eyes widening. 

She did because of her question, for the sight of what was beyond the door, and for the enormous amount of magic that was born from it, which rose around her like a tsunami, freezing the blood in her veins just as it passed. Her hair stood on end.

'It can't be real. I must be daydreaming or something. It can not be true. This is… This can’t…’ she gaped, almost falling to her knees. ‘No, it actually is. Holy crap.'

Among numerous crystals that arose from the most disparate points of what seemed like a dark cave, several enormous globes floated and revolved around a very large column composed of precious stones. Stones that she had never seen before, except in a few of the GDT books, where they were treated as legends and little more.

Mordrax’s Crystals . One of the Wizard of Miracles ’ most prized possessions.

Mordrax. The one who had managed to enter the Beyond. The one who had seen and interacted with the Nemeton. The one who had escaped death nine times and who had mastered a level of magic that was nothing short of unthinkable, so much so that when he actually died, first turning into soot, he then became a star in the firmament—or at least, that was what the stories had told about him. How much had been a tale and how much had been the truth was unclear.

Still, crap, those were the stones. The ancient runes written on them were clear proof, even though she did not understand them. She had barely started to know them because of Douxie. She remembered a few shapes and a little more.

"How did you find them? And why..." she swallowed hard, feeling her heart thundering in her chest to the point that it seemed like her ribcage would give up at any moment. "Why did you bring me here?"

"These stones have been here for millennia now. They were buried in the rock. Sensing their energy wasn't difficult." She said, in complete tranquility. "No Geomancer has ever managed to move any of the Orbs that protect them. If you managed to connect with at least one of them, their defense would give way, since, as you have probably perceived, the energy in them is shared."

"Okay, but… These are stones of unknown and unpredictable powers. And they shouldn't be touched. They're like…" the Hearthstone of Arcadia. Which was destroyed by the stealing of all its magic. “They have…” she couldn't complete the sentence.

'They are difficult to control, especially since they would have to be made up of the excess Mana that was accumulated when Mordrax came into contact with the Nemeton.'

They weren't just stories. Oh, Gods, apparently they weren't. Not even a legend among legends was just a story, even if it had been defined as such by the Wizards themselves.

'Is this pure magic actually composed of Mordrax's Mana, then? Is it what remains of him on Earth?'

“They are only unpredictable if you lack caution while using them,” Helena said kindly. As if she was trying to soften her up, one way or another, noticing how stiff she had become. "But their powers can be controlled. Their powers can be used and shared from Wizard to Wizard. They are unknown, yes, that's true. But studying them could bring to light many almost extinct Magics. Or disappeared species like those of the Fairies. They could perhaps take us to impregnable places." she paused. "And change the world that exists today. In the best way possible."

"Impregnable places?" Confusion crossed Alice’s face.

"Those you don't know where they are, exactly, but you know they exist. Those whose appearance you don't know, but you just need the idea, the concept to reach it. The desire for it." She said, her expression drooping repeatedly, before muttering a simple, "I'm tired of waiting."

"Waiting for what?..." she questioned slowly, her voice very low, almost a whisper, suddenly feeling very, very nervous. The old Witch's gaze flickered over her with an almost trapped animal look at that question. Crazed and scary. Absolutely out of her mind.

'Crap, crap, crap, crap… I don't think I like where this is going anymore.' 

 Alice took an instant step back.

"Nothing." She blurted out, dryly. "Nothing that matters to you. You just have to try to connect with the crystals that make up the Orbs."

“I…” she licked her lips, taking another step back, giving a look at the stairs. “I’m sorry, but I won’t… This kind of magic is too risky. I would like to bring back the Fairies, too, but not with worse consequences for other people.”

“It’s not a question,” Helena said, serious and collected, just tilting her head. There was a weird sound when she did it. “It’s an order.”

Fear exploded inside her and instantly it moved to Beryl, Boji, and Jade's Cores. The Energy of two out of three flowed inside her body, rushing around her blood like pure adrenalin, but the third stone did not let it show in any way. 

She stood still, her expression blank. Then, before Helena could move or close the door behind her with magic, she moved forward only to deck her in the face. And she started running. 

********

Douxie felt absolutely, excruciatingly useless. 

Master Merlin didn't want him to try to use his magic. No, he didn't want him at all. He didn't need his help, he had said. And it still hurts just thinking about it. 

The situation was getting progressively worse and worse, and there was nothing he could do about it. All he could do was watch a new group of red bugs overhead in masses from below, his hands trembling, his armor weighing down on him to the point that he struggled to stand with all the shaking. He had already fallen twice, skidding to the bottom of the boat and nearly crashing into it, being held back by the bags. 

The barrier was close. Very close now, but with the novelty of the creatures that were pointing to the engine… there was some doubt that they would get there. If it got broken at any moment, they would hold very little. His Master could not go against those beings and lift the shuttle steadily. Giving a little bit of power to the craft was one thing. Maintaining it until they landed safely to cross the barrier, well, wasn’t easy to do. At all. And still, they had no idea what was beyond the barrier and whether it would block the creatures or not. 

They did not seem to be composed of magic. They had no sound. So maybe it would not work against them. Unless they knew how to hide it. But why would they have known how to do that? They were insects! They could have all the intelligence they wanted, but… Was it really possible that they knew how to control and hide their Mana? He doubted it. 

Douxie cast a vaguely desperate look at Merlin. If he had at least allowed him to power the boat with his own magic… Maybe, just maybe, then.... 

Before he ventured to open his mouth, rising to his feet with difficulty, the Sorcerer gave him a look that testified one hundred percent to how he had not changed his mind at all about the matter. Douxie flinched.

'... Bloody hell.' 

Why? Why didn't he want him to help? What had he done so wrong this time? Why, all of a sudden, was he refusing him to try? In part, he had already refused his help against the Shadow Mephits, but not like this! He had put on his ' serious and annoyed expression’ because he had set them on fire in the bloody library—yeah. Not the best thing ever, thinking about it. But they had been vulnerable to fire. So what else could he have done?—but he had not made such a scene! 

Why then? Why now? Just… why? He didn't understand it. 

He was concentrating in every possible way and with all of himself on avoiding taking it as a total rejection of him in his essence, of his Mana. Of him being his Apprentice, from whom he should have asked for support, at least in a minimum way. He was making a desperate effort to look for a proper reason and not to see it immediately as a confirmation that he was not enough and that Merlin actually regretted choosing him.

The problem was that he could not grasp this reason. He could see nothing clear. On that day, nothing his Master had come up with had been clear to him. It was all so bloody confusing!

One moment he had made him feel as if he actually wanted him there . He had said he wanted him near him, hadn't he? That had to mean something! 

But then there had been the order of fixing the castle and, okay, it had made him feel like he had gone back nine hundred years and that he was the Errand boy all over again. Then there had been the novelty of the armor that, oh, he didn't know whether to see as good or bad. It probably should have been good, or at least, it certainly was for Merlin and for preventing him from ending up breaking something—a bone, his nose, a hand, his fuzzing everything —very easily. 

But now this? He could not use his magic. Didn't he want his help? How was he supposed to interpret that? How? 

Was it a way to maintain his own strength as much as possible? No. Could not be. Otherwise, he wouldn't have asked him to fix the whole castle , a useful thing to do or not. 

Was it the fact that he wanted to figure out what exact spells he would use to make a list of those not to be repeated? Plausible. But then why would he not allow him to power the engine of the rescue craft, instead? That one was not important in the list of attack performances! 

Douxie saw no other possibility. And it hurts. But he had to ignore that blatant rejection because they were in utter fuzzing hell right now. Feeling his eyes burn when the vehicle carrying them was literally about to drop them and plummeting to the ground was not in the top ten best choices for public survival. Absolutely not. 

But even if he wanted to, he couldn't do anything because that refusal wouldn't let him! Bloody fuzzing hell!

He could only stand by and just watch! Again! Like the useless him of nine hundred years earlier! If not perhaps worse, because despite everything his running back and forth for materials was something, as much small as it was.

It felt like karma. Indirect karma for minding his own business the night before and for lying to Master Merlin. For putting the Guardians of Arcadia in danger. For doing it mostly to escape his mind and the avalanche of negative thoughts that had attacked him so aggressively. He was selfish and toxic, maybe he deserved it for real… But this karma session could end with everyone dead. Hell. It was so wrong.

Douxie went back to casting his gaze at those giant insects, then at the barrier. The eyes were always there, huge, all fixed on him as if they knew every single thing that was going through his mind at that moment and were judging him for that. But it wasn't important. 

They were so close. So close to crossing it! So close! 

It was bad. Beyond the barrier, they would not be able to use Magic and they could not afford to slow down to lower their altitude. They could not afford to calmly descend and go over from the ground… They would have collapsed into the void and the lifeboat would have crashed, smashing into who knows how many pieces. It was not necessarily going to be easy to repair. 

Sure, it would have been easier to fix than the mechanisms to go back in time, but, not a quick fix. Nor was it certain that they would arrive unscathed. It was unlikely. 

But still, Douxie could not help but hope that those creatures would disappear with their passage, even if he doubted it anyway. 

Merlin cast another spell at the same time that the shuttle's engine made an unpleasant sound, a log that resonated in the worst way and made everything shake again. 

Something broke in the shuttle engine, exactly at that moment. A feeling of frost took hold of Douxie, running through his insides. 

"Master!" he found himself shouting with all the voice he had in his throat, still hearing it break in mid-word. 

'Tell me what to do, please!' he thought, desperate. He almost fell again. ‘ Please, Master…’

"Lady Claire, create a portal to descend to the ground!" 

Something broke in him at these words. Like an utter crash. Worse than both of the sentences he had said before, combined. He felt himself staring into nothing and into everything at the same time.

Another rejection. This time it was so blatant, so blatant that he really couldn't, no, he couldn't quite lie to himself in his desperate search for anything that would testify to the opposite of what was happening. 

As long as he didn't have him in the way, as long as he didn't have him to ruin everything again… he preferred to seek help from the very source of magic that Merlin himself had started and kept despising. That the Master had said he had done wrong in trying to teach Claire. 

A pang went to crush the center of his chest, hot and suffocating, causing him to hold his breath. His eyes burned even more.

Merlin did not need his help. 

He did not need his magic. 

He did not need him. Not even a little bit.

The whole stay by me after the barrier seemed almost like a dog treat at this point. A way to keep him better on a leash and prevent him from whimpering or crying out from lack of attention given. And the armor was a way to avoid making him an even worse dead weight. 

He didn't need him, no. He didn't want him at all. Douxie had hoped for too much, and he had no reason to. The anguish attached to that thought was devastating. 

He forced himself to go through it a second time, even as the internal bitterness exploded like a bomb. He forced himself to remain calm, feeling slightly soothed as he saw the Shadow Portal Claire created appear, leading them to safety. It was not big enough for the spacecraft to fit through it, but it was big enough for them to jump in it.

Douxie found himself assisting the group as they hurriedly grabbed the bags before starting to throw themselves in utter disorder into it, one by one. He was one of the last to jump into it, before his Master, Jim and Claire. And in the blink of an eye, he found himself landing on the ground, a stone's throw from the barrier’s side. 

The three who were left arrived just as quickly… and Hisirdoux found himself unable to meet the Sorcerer's gaze. Rather, he ended up casting a glance first at the rescue shuttle that was free-falling and then at the swarm of insects, which was already changing direction, first circling a bit on themselves, then probably realizing where they had ended up. 

"Hurry up! Over the barrier! Now!" shouted his Master. 

He did so without a second thought, trying not to hear the little voice in his brain that kept repeating almost in a loop in fact that he had no more value to him, so it didn’t really matter if he got over the barrier or not, at this point. 

Merlin Ambrosius no longer wanted him. And that Douxie could do absolutely nothing about it. Why was he here, anyway, really?

The magic dome engulfed him, making every part of him more fragile, even heavier, more helpless, and cracked. More weakened.

He could feel something pull and already begin to fracture. He could feel his Magic gradually fading away, as if being grabbed and yanked strongly, then covered by a chain with several padlocks and countless keyholes. The feeling was always so horrendous and hard to bear… He almost could not stand it.

And a second after he had done so after he was totally over the barrier, he found himself being teleported. His whole body was whipped by an invisible current right and left. He felt all the movements in their complete entirety, the soreness tracing every single part of him. 

And then he found himself still, but just for a second. He was up five meters in the sky, with nothing to stop his fall and the violet river under him.

Chapter Text

TRACK 24

So, throw your fist up

Now throw your fist up

Ain't nobody goin' to take my life

Ain't nobody goin' to get the best of me

Ain't a preacher goin' to save me now

Grab a seat, I'm goin' to show you how

(Party Poison - My Chemical Romance)

********

Running up the stairs from the bottom up, thanks to both stones, was remarkably easy. She felt only a third of the fatigue and effort she was exerting, and she was advancing much faster than normal—The Arcadia athletic group would have envied her at that moment, most likely—but that did not change the fact that after a few flights of stairs, she found herself standing in front of a compact wall of branches barring her way. 

The sight of them made her hold her breath, but she gave herself no time to be paralyzed on the spot. 

She did not have a Ruby to set them on fire, but with brute force, she would still be able to break through. Even if it would have meant wasting time with Helena, who was surely ready to hunt her down—and who must have been quite angry because, with the power of her fist taken to the limit, there was a probability that she must have broken a few teeth and her nose with that punch—and injured her hands in the process. Which wasn't exactly welcome as a thing if to give the stones her full capabilities she had to clench them in her fists, was it? 

She still let herself hit the branches with repeated punches accompanied by kicks, feeling the impact every single time. She sensed each cut forming on her skin and the burning of them, which gradually increased. 

On the fifth strike, she managed to break through but found herself turning her head as she heard the sound of the Elder Witch's footsteps begin to rise in volume.

"You're seeing it wrong," she said calmly, but with a stone between her fingers pulsing with energy. Holy Crap, it was an octagonal diamond if she was seeing and feeling it right. "There's no reason to run away."

'Are you flipping kidding me? An Octagonal one, of all of them? Sure, it could have been a Trilliant, but my Gods…' 

Alice let out another kick where the branches had broken down, widening the hole enough to allow her own passage, and tried to get through. 

She succeeded for a good part, and then several of the branches went to attach themselves to her legs and arms, encircling and squeezing her. They squeezed her so tightly that they burned and traced cuts in her skin, tearing a whimper of pain from her. 

'Crap, crap, crap!’ she gritted her teeth, breathing hard through her nose. 'Balderdash! That hurts!' 

The emotion she felt instantly went into Beryl a second time, dampening the one she felt and diluting it enough to be bearable. A simple push forward with the greatest speed of which she was capable of making her able to get them off her, smashing them all at the same time, though they too went to scratch her flesh more. 

She therefore darted forward, dodging with difficulty a stalagmite that stretched out suddenly and almost pierced her side. And that it was clear proof that Alice had been right about Helena's stone. That she had been right to fear it, especially because of the shape of it.

"Wouldn't you like to improve the world too?" asked the woman behind her, who was advancing slowly, much slower than her own pace. Of course, it could have been because of her age, or maybe because she didn't have her own stones with her, but... it was as if she knew Alice wouldn't be able to escape anyway. As if she didn't need to run after her. "Aren't you also tired of the way it is nowadays?" 

Part of her, yes. It was. She would have liked a different world than the one that was there. But she was pretty sure Helena meant a different world than the one she hoped for. And the fact that she wanted to force her to help by means that could damage the whole place—probably the whole town and a couple of those around it—well, it didn't improve her opinion of it, nor did it raise her points. On the contrary. 

In fact, she ignored it fully, continuing to run and try to speed up as much as she could, evading every crystal, every stalactite, every stalagmite that tried to impede her advance. 

In her haste she almost slipped on some ice, risking falling and then collapsing down several steps, but she managed to hold on to the metal railing. She cursed mentally, breathing heavily. Crap, she could have tumbled down and risked having to run over all of those stairs again. And maybe she would have not been able to. Maybe the Sorceress would have been able to catch her first.

However, Alice had no time to catch her breath or sigh in relief. In fact, the ice—also present on it—tried to hold her hands, to trap her fingers and then her arms in a grip from which she would not be able to escape. She pulled them off just in time, lifting them into the air with her heartbeat speeding up even more. It was accelerated. So, so accelerated and loud. 

She was breathing hard, so hard that she felt as if she were on the verge of suffocation, but the panic—whether due to the sensation or to everything else—allowed her to move forward because the feeling continued to strengthen her stones. But in all that, a doubt began to rise in her mind, climbing into it between thoughts. 

"Wouldn't you like more magic? Not just for you or for me, but... Even more magic everywhere. For everyone. So you wouldn't have to hide it anymore?" She paused a little. "Because those stones could be a start, you know."

‘Shut your trap, you old hag.’

Alice reached halfway up the stairs, catching a glimpse of the light filtering through the trapdoor under the two Witches' house. The sight was an interlude between a hint of relief and a new dose of anguish. She tried to banish the latter, hoping strongly that she was wrong. Hoping that Zoe's pessimistic view of things had infected her somehow… and that she was exaggerating everything. 

She kept running, time seeming to slow down and numerous new stalagmites trying to block her path.

Intense pain erupted in her foot all at once, taking her by surprise. One of them passed from the underside of the sole of her foot, coming to the other side of it. She could not keep from screaming, instantly going to bend over herself.

It was as if a flame was enveloping her whole foot. And it was burning so badly that she could hardly think. Her brain seemed to be enveloped in a heavy patina of pain that, even if it was partly displaced inside the precious stones, was absolutely explosive. 

Her eyes began to glaze over, the first tears starting to cross her cheeks, but Alice shook her head and forced herself—though fighting against all her first instincts that demanded that she stayed still, to do nothing, because doing anything would only bring more pain—to let the tip rub more against the flesh to get it out of it. 

It made the pain excruciating. Much, much greater even than the blow itself, so much so that she whimpered again, a sob and a moan escaping her mouth. 

"Flipping… hell..." she murmured, still struggling to get oxygen, feeling far too lightheaded for her liking. 

The blood dripping from her wound was running down the entire sole of her shoe before coming out of the hole, making it slippery. Still, that was not the only spot where she was bleeding. All the scratches and all the unopened skinning were bleeding quite profusely. Three, five minutes or so and they would be gone, those scratches, as opposed to the hole in her foot—though she hoped her magic would be able to close it as soon as possible, however unlikely. Especially counting that it had pierced her bone. Flipping Balderdash. 

Limping and emitting cries of pain, she did not allow herself to stop. Hard to do, but if she stopped she doubted the situation would improve in any way. 

"There's no reason to complicate this," Helena said again, quiet, almost sweet in the way she was talking to her, again. As if she hadn't just pierced her foot through and through. "Nor to make it all so dramatic, really..."

'Making it dramatic?!’ she couldn't help thinking, almost scandalized by the term. ‘There are many things I could call being dramatic, especially by being in a group of friends who are pretty much all drama queens in many ways. I can be a drama queen myself, yes. But in this case? In this case, you are flipping crapped out!' 

Alice felt twinges with every single step she took. She had slowed conspicuously in her pace, though she wished she could speed up again. 

The exit was near her. Very near. She would get out of it as fast as she could like this, then... Then she would decide later what to do... Yes, she would decide later. She wanted to get there first and avoid any distractions in her path. 

She had to stay focused on what she was stepping on to avoid having an extra pair of holes along her feet. Or more than one pair. Or elsewhere, not only on her feet but wherether they could get. 

Helena certainly would not have hit her in deadly places, that would not have happened. She needed her alive , after all—unless she changed her mind and decided to search for someone else to connect to the Orbs and ancient stones—but there were many, many places on her body that she could pierce through without having serious or deadly effects… and thus causing the necessary damage to halt her advance. 

"Aren't you supposed to be a dreamer? One who seeks the best, both for herself and for others? With such a capacity it would be selfish not to try to help one's own people."

'Would it be selfish to try to save an entire city from being killed or something? Then I would say I'm okay with that.'  

"If you agreed, I would stop hurting you. Do you realize that?" She asked, her voice closer than she would have liked. 

Alice gritted her teeth once more, holding back the urge to turn away for even a moment so she could give her a middle finger. Because, seriously, what the hell? What kind of sentence was that? What kind of question was that? 

It was obvious that if she stopped running and decided to cooperate she would stop trying to pierce her like a flipping marshmallow. She already knew that herself. Trying to remind her in the hope that she would stop was not going to work. It didn't matter. 

Shaking her head, the girl kept moving, finding herself only a few steps away from the light.

Numerous stalagmites rose up all at once, however, to cover her exit, forming yet another wall that stood far too massive to allow a dozen kicks to smash it. She held her breath to see it, an icy chill running down her spine. 

‘No! No, no, no, no!’ Desperation started to sail through her.

"You just have to do what I told you. And stop running away. You have nowhere to take refuge, anyway."

She began to hit the wall of ice anyway, ignoring the beastly cold that was building up, driving her to chatter her teeth and try to let go of the pain, however difficult. Ignoring her own emotions and thoughts that started to be more and more scared and desperate, telling her that she would not make it in time. That she really wasn’t gonna run away, because that was stupidly impossible at that moment. Maybe she would have tried to deceive her or something. That it was too late to win.

One blow, a dozen, twenty or so. It was a succession in which she kept doing everything she could to keep still and to knock the wall down as fast as she could. Her heart seemed to proceed in a wild race and her limbs quivered. Underneath her, a fairly compact layer of ice had begun to form that seemed ready to accumulate and run down her legs.

When Helena was ten steps away from her, with all the panic assaulting Alice's senses, the wall gave way. A cry that was a mixture of agitated and surprised—she had really, really begun to believe that she was not going to be able to break it, so much so that she had continued to strike more out of fear than anything else, skinning her fists and increasing the pain in her own legs—escaped her mouth. 

She crossed the hole, finally returning to the ground floor. But she did not have time to allow herself a hint of relief, for doing so brought her immediately face-to-face with Minerva's Familiar Owl. 

‘Oh hell no…’

The bird immediately threw himself at her, his talons in full view, his sharp cry echoing in her ears. 

She had to bend over herself to prevent him from hitting her full force. And she dodged him a second time as well, going at once—thinking and assessing more by normal instinct than anything else—throwing herself at the next door and then into the room immediately after, feeling his claws graze her hair before she succeeded. 

She passed it and closed it behind her, immediately moving the first piece of furniture available in front of it and realizing belatedly that she had locked herself in one of the two bathrooms—the one of the two on the ground floor. Then on the first and second floors, well, she did not know how many were there. She had not paused to count them or asked how many there were out of curiosity. She really hadn't. She had been too occupied for it.

It was a small bathroom, but it had a window that threw her onto the porch. And yes , it might have been something obvious, but once down she would run as hard as she could toward the city's Human Market, past the dirt road and the stretch of white pebbled road that overlooked the sea. She was pretty sure that Minerva wasn’t able to run as fast as she could, since she was blind. Unless that had been a lie.

The more non-magical people she had around her, the less Helena and Minerva would use their magic to try to catch her. And there she would look for a way back to Arcadia Oaks, perhaps by going into one of the bars and calling someone.

Zoe was the first option, the most obvious. If she didn't open the call—although she doubted she wouldn't unless out of the blue, her girlfriend stopped answering her too—she would try Tiger or Nessa. 

Munchkin couldn't do anything about it, not with the whole Arcane Order thing already upon him along with the Guardians of Arcadia. It must have been no small psychological burden. Having to protect Nari from Skrael and Bellroc, knowing that the world depended on it, was no walk in the park. 

It was bad enough that he had been in charge of working on fighting off the lair of Witches who were enemies of humankind. If then Alice herself was also weighing on him... Eh. Not the best, really. 

No. Alice didn't want to give him any new stress, endangered or not. He really had enough of that already. Enough things to shoulder.

More of a question was... Were Minerva and Helena part of the same lair group the Bones Witch was? It seemed so. 

It seemed so for the whole talk of sharing the Magic, for that of improving the land... For that of reaching every imaginable place whose precise location was unknown or that no one had seen. Maybe they wanted the Nemeton, too. Maybe the 'I'm tired of waiting' that Helena had said was because she wanted to reach it as soon as possible... Or maybe it was something else entirely, Alice could not know.

Whether they were or not, however, was not important at that moment. She had to get out of there. Now.

She allowed herself to finally catch her breath properly for just a moment or two, looking around as best she could to try to figure out how to get to the window. 

There was no chair, and the window was above the shower. The edge of it was medium-high, not so high as to make it easily reachable, but if she made an effort in jumping, and holding on to the wooden ledge, she would have succeeded. Yes, it was viable.

A small side of her brain whispered to her that she should look for Miss. Emerald, too. That she could not leave her there. That she did not know what her own teacher, her teacher's friend—and the Familiar Owl, in some ways, though he did just because of his connection to Minerva—had wanted from her when she had brought her to them. The reason she had taught her so far was not to trap her inside some sort of underground cave to harness her magic. But that it had been a mistake. It had to have been a mistake, right? Right?

The other side of her brain, however, was terrified. Terrified, confused, and full of suspicions piling up on each other that she wasn't one hundred percent sure she wanted to shut up. Her stomach twisted at those thoughts.

'What… What should I do?' 

The question received no real answer. It was simply driven from her mind, not wanting to have to face it. 

Her hands and legs were shaking so badly that she struggled to hang onto the edge of the shower, climbing onto it. She struggled to stand on it, especially when Milo went to pierce the door with his claws, provoking a harsh, loud, and sudden thump, tearing a shrill cry from her mouth. 

Still quivering, though she felt her foot on fire, she immediately launched herself into her leap, calling to herself as much energy as she could from her stones and relying on them with all of herself. 

She reached the edge of the window and managed to cling to it like a koala. She struggled enormously to pull herself up from there, but she kept kicking and tensing until she was definitely over it, dragging herself past it, and the moment she was stable and standing, ready to jump… At that moment, she stopped breathing, bristling in place. 

Miss. Emerald, Minerva, and Helena were all three already there. In total silence, staring at her with earnest expressions, their bodies tense and ready to attack her as soon as she approached. How the latter had gotten there so quickly was a bit of a mystery, but her brain instantly put aside the whole fact, the anguish and burn of betrayal making it hard for her to think. 

'No... Please don't.'

Her heart lost a beat. Then two. Three. After a while, it sped up in response, but in the meantime Alice was in apnea, gulping and shaking. 

Her eyes began to burn even more than before, making her vision all blurry. A grimace crossed her entire face as her lower lip took on a slight tremor. 

She immediately prepared herself, however, to do the same. Defensive stance, quick and easy. The way the three were set up said that Alice could not escape at all. They were covering her dirt road. They were covering her path in every way. 

She was bound to face them. 

She knew very well that to clash in a three-on-one, especially against them, would bring her defeat—she did not have enough stones with her to be able to fight them. She was not experienced enough to be able to do it. She would not have been able to go against Miss. Emerald, with or without treachery, to one hundred percent of her ability. Had it been just Minerva or just Helena, okay, maybe. But, no, by her flipping bad luck it wasn't just one or two opponents that she didn’t really care for, even though she kinda had taken a liking to Minerva at first—but she still wouldn't have given up on herself without a fight. 

Better to go down fighting than to surrender at the start. Better to try and sink after than to accept one's fate as if it were already written, full of regret. 

'I have to do it. Whether I want to or not.' she thought, trying to gather as much resolve as she could and clenching the gems tightly in her fists. She was ready. More or less. But it was still okay. It had to be.

Or at least, that was until all three of them started clapping. 

"Our sincere congratulations." Said her teacher, a wide smile going across her face. "You have passed the test."

********

Jim crashed to the ground. The Armor served to cushion the impact enough that he felt it, but not too much. 

He was a little stunned, but other than the turning of his head, there was nothing else of concern. No serious injuries. No concussion. He was not bleeding at all. 

He managed to sit up. He did it very slowly, almost cautiously, but he did it. 

Around him, there was soil—practically just soil—dry and grayish, almost white, devoid of nature. And it seemed to be that way for quite a few meters, both in front and behind him. The total lack of people seemed to send him back to the Dark Lands a second time. 

Just the thought of it sent a chill through his skin and quickened his heartbeat, but he decided to ignore it. 

He slowly got to his feet, using the sword—that was fortunately still with him. Had it not been there, he did not know exactly how he would have reacted—as support as if it was his walking stick.

Standing up, he tried again to take a general look, but except for a better view, almost nothing changed. There was dirt. Just a lot of white ground. And nothing with which he could orient himself; not even one of those colorful rivers they had all seen before. 

The dark gray sky, in turn, made nothing clear. There were no hints of wind. There were no real clouds. 

As Nari had said, it really seemed that everything was absolutely paralyzed. The flow of time was not moving there. 

He did not know whether to try to start shouting the names of others or not. Had he done so there was, yes, the possibility that they would hear him, but there was also the possibility that something else would find him. And if they were all creatures like the red bugs that had attacked them, well, that was not a very pleasant idea. Jim sighed. 

He had two options: stand there in the hope that someone would find him, someone who had perhaps been beside a river and would sort of help him get his bearings… or move, looking from one of the four directions for a river, relying mostly on his own ears. He knew that these were all going more or less in the same direction, unless they only made it as far as the barrier, and then took off to head somewhere else after that. That would have been really unlucky.

Jim really, really hoped that the others weren't far away, that they were all okay… and that they were more or less on the same wavelength as him in the whole thing. That they knew what they could do. And oh, for the sake of his sanity, he hoped Steve was in the company of someone. It didn't matter who, exactly, but somebody. If he had been alone, yes, that would definitely have been a disaster. 

In any case, he was particularly worried about Claire. The two red marks she had shown on her own arm had been rather ugly to see, and he feared the possible effects it would bring. 

His gaze fell on the Rune still written on his hand. He was more than tempted to try to use it to signal something—anything, perhaps asking if she was okay—even lighting up. But he remembered—before even drawing a circle with his index finger—that the barrier rendered it completely out of use. It was blocking magic, after all, Amulet included.

Of course, it didn't cost anything to try, but it was still almost completely impossible that he would receive an answer in front of his attempt. He would only have deluded himself before the evidence. 

'Oh boy. This whole situation wasn’t needed.' He thought, taking in as much air as he could and exhaling it, trying not to let his nervousness get the best of him. And deciding to try in earnest to head in the direction of one of the rivers. 

Or at least, hoping that the direction he would take would actually lead him to one of them and not simply walk endlessly in circles, especially counting that he had none of the four bags with him. Nor was he catching a glimpse of any animal or plant to eat. Not counting that he did not even know if the water of the colored rivers was drinkable. 

Trying to use his hearing as best as he could, Jim first began to take steps in one direction, then another, then the last two. He picked up no difference. 

With vague exasperation he tried directing himself to the one that was on his right, hoping that that fifty percent chance of finding a direction with the river was on his side. If he kept walking without finding one, at all, it probably meant either that he was going back to the barrier or that he was going straight ahead. But still, it would have been better to have at least the smallest landmark instead of being in total nothingness. 

He began to walk, carefully thrusting his sword back into its sheath and feeling it weighing down on his side. 

Right away he forced himself to look carefully at everything that passed before his eyes, even though everything looked absurdly the same. If he noticed anything singular or different, whether it was apparently stupid or not, he would still take it as a good sign. Any crack in that monotonous pattern of white and dead soil would have been.

He kept a brisk pace for an unspecified length of time, noticing only after it that all the warmth he had previously felt had vanished into thin air. Despite everything, in fact, the temperature was quite pleasant. Lukewarm. 

A thought flashed through his mind—totally unexpected—that left him almost displaced, surprise painting itself on his face. 

'Was the warm weather there because of the proximity of the barrier, perhaps? Because it had an effect on magic?... Tobes didn't feel it because of that, maybe?' 

It could have been. He hadn't asked the others about it—since he had suddenly been preoccupied with the novelty and chaos that had formed—well, it didn't provide him with certainty, but it was still a viable possibility. And if he did not find them, it would remain so, but he strove not to think about it. He strove to remove the option from his mind, returning rather in alarm and preferring to devote his attention to the bare ground. 

They were all there, all in the same dimension, all beyond the same barrier. They would have found each other for sure, before or later. 

********

"You stay here, Sir. Do not move from where you are except in extreme necessity. And do not light a fire if you see any wood, you won't be able to hide the smoke." Ordered Archie to Sir. Galahad, who was fiddling with one of the shoulder bags, revealed that it was the one with the flashlight, two ropes, rescue kit, and five of the water bottles. He was sitting by the side of the bright yellow-colored riverbank. "I'm going to look around if I find a scent trace of the others to bring them here."

The effect of the barrier, on Archibald, was that the Dragon could not return to the cat state or transform in any other way. It was because it had been the last form into which he had been mutated before crossing the dome. A similar thing had happened with the anti-magic collar half a century earlier, albeit in the opposite state. 

On the one hand, it was better, because flying around was much faster and allowed him to search for Douxie and the others more quickly, but on the other hand he couldn't get bigger than that if needed. And he felt his body efforts redoubled. 

It was because he did not have the magic to allow a better sustainment. It was because the total lack of connection with his Mage added an extra burden on him. He was so used to it that, every time it wasn't there, he felt every hint of weakness mixed with emptiness and upsetment spreading in it. 

"All right, I'll wait for you," the Knight said, lifting one of the ropes from the bag and waving it under his nose. "You should take one just in case. Whether you need it or not."

Archibald nodded and let the man leave it in his mouth. It tasted old, but at least it was stiff enough not to break easily. 

After a brief look around, the Dragon took flight. The yellow river and a dry tree were the last things he looked at on that specific spot of ground. Then, stopping in the void, beating his wings repeatedly to stay in the air, but without moving, he closed his eyes. 

He smelled wetness. He smelled the strong odor of Sir. Galahad, the reason he had found him first almost immediately—not counting that he was the one who had landed closest to him, with only half a kilometer, ish, separating them—He could smell the stench of dead earth, of ash, which caused him to sneeze from time to time. He could feel… a hint of metal in the air.  

It was very faint, partly trampled by the other smells and scents that joined in a concert of odors—making them even more unpleasant—and it took him a while to be able to figure out which way it was coming from. 

When he managed to intercept the trail for good, he set off quickly in its direction, still keeping an eye on everything around him from above. 

There was something rather eerie about the place. It looked almost totally dead as if it was on its last breaths. As a thought it was not very reassuring, especially considering that being inside that dimension would last for a while… and getting back out would only be feasible if they met the famous Sorcerer. They seriously had no idea where he could be. 

There were no buildings in sight at the moment. It could be that if there was one it was covered by an invisibility spell, but without being able to perceive it—without having Douxie, Nari, or Merlin able to perceive it—everything was much more difficult. 

Further north, however, he could see a large lake. Using that as a general meeting point would have been useful, but it was far away. And telling everyone to go there was impossible. The yellow river was therefore already a good start. He would have to make do with it. 

He continued to follow the metallic trail, feeling it gradually get stronger and clearer, so much so that it was accompanied by something unpleasant that alarmed him. Smell of blood, mixed with that of the person to whom it belonged. It was not possible to tell who it was, exactly, partly because to him the smells of people—with small exceptions, including smokers, people who bathed in rose waters, people who had been in hospitals, etcetera—all felt a little alike.

But still, even considering that the group had all been in the Castle, with the same hygienic means, many of them had particular quirks in their body odors. So, even if he really did not know who it was, that made the field of possibilities of searching narrow down a lot. 

Douxie had a smell of whom he knew every little nuance… and it wasn't him. Sir. Galahad, who when he didn't smell like sweat, smelled like alcohol and goats, he had already left him behind, was already excluded. Nari smelled of pollen, flowers, and dew. The Trollhunter smelled like stone and something that he really couldn't recognize. It wasn't easy to tell. Merlin's was like old books and tea leaves. The Trolls were all Stone. 

Missing from the list were Steve, Toby, and Claire, who perhaps would have had small different hints of scent if they had the normal mundane stuff around them, but, yeah. Right now, they did not. 

He considered going back to get the survival kit but chose to avoid it. If they were in danger, by the time he returned from Galahad, he took the bandages and set off again, the wounded person could have lost their life. Or got even more hurt.

He flew for about five, ten minutes—which his mind perceived as much longer than it should have been—coming closer and closer until he saw a person lying on the ground. It was a black blur at first, but after a few more moments he began to capture details.

He glimpsed a purple shade. Claire’s Armor.

She was in a fetal position, almost curled up on herself. And she was completely alone, which was both good and bad.

Good because she might not have had her friends around her, but perhaps more unpleasant creatures, from which she would not have been able to defend herself. Fortunately, this was not the case.

Bad because Archie didn't have the faintest idea how to carry her, wounded and unconscious, to her destination. He couldn't change into a horse and take her away like that. He couldn't even tie her with a rope and lift her into the air—his current size didn't allow him to do so—or let her crawl to the ground, risking her getting even more injured. And dirty, but that was the least of his and her problems.

It was a big mess. Perhaps he should have been accompanied by the Knight. He would help him carry her in his arms. But then with Sir. Galahad, he had absolutely no idea how long it would have taken him to reach her in the first place.

Archie sped up in his flight, though he felt the effort mostly in his shoulder blades. Since there was no wind, he couldn't get carried away by the current, he had to use his own energy.

He still got to her in no time. He first checked if she was breathing, which luckily was a yes, then proceeded to look for the wound from which she was bleeding. It was easy to find, also because it wasn't something hidden or small.

Her helmet was missing and her temple was bleeding. Not a lot, but still enough to cause a small puddle on the ground. Her luck was that it didn't look very deep, but leaving her exposed and bleeding was not a good choice.

He didn't have the bandage kit to stop the flow. Nor the alcohol to use as a disinfectant. And the girl's magic wouldn't activate to work on her automatically. Mostly, he couldn't take the form of a phoenix, so he could use its tears to heal her.

There were only small, half-dead plants or grasses around. He could have tried to use them as a temporary stopper or to crush them to turn them into a pulp—which was also always more to be used as a stopper than for anything else—but he wasn't certain that they weren't poisonous, irritating, infectious due to their state or that perhaps they brought Claire an allergic reaction. They might have done absolutely nothing and have broken or crumbled to dust on first contact. He had no idea. The possibilities were too many and he couldn't know until he tried.

If he had used them, however, it would have been more of a gamble than anything else. A rather unpleasant one.

Archibald wagged his tail nervously. It was definitely a bad situation, but he had to decide what to do. And fast.

A sudden new smell passing through his nostrils froze him in place, making his ears perk up and causing him to look around carefully.

********

Steve didn't like that place. He didn't like how gloomy it was. He didn't like how repetitive it seemed. He didn't like the fact that he was there with Mister Magic Man . Sure, it was better than being totally alone, but the Sorcerer wasn't exactly the best company in the world. He was almost as gloomy as the place itself!

For the most part, ever since he'd woken up to his aggressive shaking, Merlin had done nothing but alternate between giving him full orders and remaining completely silent, appearing unnerved when he tried to start conversations or to ask stuff.

For example, he had dared to ask how he had decided, exactly, which direction they should go. Or why they all got divided like that out of nowhere. But no, the old Wizard had responded with an annoyed expression, a raised eyebrow, and a rolling of his eyes, as if he had asked him stupid questions. 

He had also tried to ask if he wanted him to carry the big bag that the Sorcerer was holding, which Steve had had first—also because the man already had his staff and was walking with a tired step as if he had injured himself or something—but he had refused that too, simply shooting him a dirty look. As if he had called him old out loud, even though it would have been the honest truth. 

And Steve couldn't help but huff and cross his arms. Because yes, if it had to be like this, well, okay. It was his fault if he then made more effort. He had tried. He couldn't even be surprised about the stubborn answer he received, especially given his previous refusal of Doux's help as if the bro was trying to kill them all instead of helping. And just thinking about it made him confused.

What was his problem? And why had the bro let himself be pushed around like that? Okay that he was his Master, but what the hell! If it had been him, he would have ignored the order completely. Sure, then Mr. Magic Man would have gotten mad, but honestly those days had been enough to make him wonder when exactly he wasn't in a bad mood. So what would have changed? More or less nothing. Maybe he would just be angrier than normal.

And yes, it was a little scary when he was very angry—even just hearing him scream had been terrifying—but between the old man's anger and risking his own life, because he wouldn't accept help, he preferred Merlin's anger.

In any case, this whole situation was rather boring. It had been more interesting to see the territory from the Flying Castle than from there. Of course, still better than the horrifying moment of those things who had chased them, but damn! You couldn't go from one limit to the other in this way! There had to be an interlude there! Something cool and dangerous to a point!—Standing on the Lion-Dragon beast in the Vampire's Nest had been a perfect interlude. Not boring, not too dangerous, except for his almost falling down from it, but it had been adventurous and fun. Just as he had imagined on a journey among magical creatures in the style of the Chronicles of Narnia .

"How much longer?" he found himself asking with a sigh, after a time that began to seem infinite to him.

"As long as it takes." The Old Sorcerer snapped dryly. Steve had a slight feeling of deja vu, which made him snort. It was the exact same answer Lake had given him the day before.

And who knows where he was at that moment. Who knows where everyone was. How large was the space covered by the magical barrier thingy? It couldn't have been too much, right? It would have been crazy, otherwise… But considering how crazy the Creepy Vamps had been with the ladders, he couldn't really call it.

He let out another huff, kicking a pebble that found itself under the sole of his boot, causing it to bounce on the ground until it entered a black hole to the right of him. Like the previous ones he had seen, it faced total nothingness. If someone had ended up in it, they would have fallen into the void for who knows how long, arriving who knows where. Maybe they would continue to fall for eternity. Maybe they would have done it for an hour or two before printing themself out and flattening on the ground like a pancake, who knows how many kilometers deep.

Steve found himself strangely surprised, however, to see the rock emerge from the hole and float in the air before disappearing, first breaking down into a lot of small pieces.

'Cool!' he thought, a bit of amusement crossing his face.

"Lengthen your stride or you'll end up getting lost." Mister Magic Man's voice came up in a peremptory tone, startling him and leading him to realize that he had stopped in his tracks. He then sped back to get near to him, not wanting to be left behind. Whether his company was boring or not, if Steve was left alone, well… it would have been much worse, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

Being lost in an unknown place, having no way of obtaining maps, or knowing the correct route was, just thinking about it, terrifying.

Still, the fear of being lost disappeared almost immediately as a feeling started to pool in his stomach shortly after restarting to walk. 

" Mister Magic Man?" He called the bro's Master, slightly sweating. 

"What?" the Old Sorcerer said, sighing, looking at him with an annoyed expression— Maybe it was because of the nickname he called him, this time. Maybe not. Who knows. 

"... I need to pee."

"Oh, for the love of—" 

Chapter Text

TRACK 25

I drop to the floor like I did before

Stop watching, I'm coughing, I can't be more

What I want and what I need are at constant war

Like a well full of poison, a rotten core

The blood goes thin, the fever stings

(Blackbirds - Linkin Park) 

********

Claire felt quite strange. 

It was as if she kept going from sitting to lying down, but she didn't remember moving. She could hardly remember anything, to be completely honest. 

From time to time she could hear a bell ringing, tinkling in the air with its crystal clear sound. Hearing it, for unclear reasons, brought her to attention every single time. As if she had to be attentive. As if it were an omen of some kind. 

She found herself staring down below in one of yet another shift in position. Beneath her feet, which were wearing plain brown sandals, was wooden parquet flooring. 

Part of her brain told her it was all frighteningly unusual. But every voice in her head tried to tell her that what was happening was not natural, well, it was being trampled by reasoning that was not her own. But that actually seemed to be hers. They were in her head, so why then were they not hers? 

She was waiting for someone. Claire knew that. Claire knew that she was continuing to wait for that someone, but that he was making himself wait. And it sickened her that he was making her wait like that. It sickened her that they had promised each other a time for that meeting, but as usual, that person could not keep his promises. 

She started to pace on the parquet floor nervously, ticking her fingers on the sleeve of the pastel yellow Hanfu that she was wearing. Her long hair was being shaken by the warm, somewhat agitated wind that arose from the South, where the sun was high but not particularly warm, covered by grayish clouds scattered across the sky. Perhaps it would have rained soon. 

The new jingling of the bell caused her to raise her head sharply, her eyes searching among the red columns and unlit lamps dangling from the ceiling. The man she had been waiting for until that moment finally appeared. Finally. 

Claire had no idea who he was, but at the same time, she knew it anyway. For whatever reason, she recognized his broad shoulders. She recognized his ebony-black hair, which was tied in a long, thick braid, resting on the left side of his neck, descending near to his waist. It would have been so easy to grab and cut them. To put him to shame because of it. 

She recognized those eyes, always black, sickeningly soft. And those angular features were no less recognizable. They were a common trait of many people, yes, but in him , they seemed particularly pronounced. 

"Shaoran." She found herself saying in greeting, lowering her head slightly. Her voice came out dry, but calm… And… And strangely masculine? What? 

'Why is my voice like this?' She—She! Hello? Why was she sounding like that, seriously?—couldn't help but wonder in a small part of herself, even more confused as to what was going on. And always being forcibly chased away, as if it were an annoying fly that kept buzzing around her ears instead of something she had all the right to wonder about. 

"Dalai." Replied the man, just as serious but more relaxed than Claire—Dalai?—nodding in turn. He then conjoined his own arms, going to press his palms together, but not intertwining his fingers. "As usual you're right on time."

'And as usual, you're perfectly late.' She thought, but bit her tongue to avoid exposing herself. 

"I like to be on time." She said instead, tightening her lips and turning her gaze to the sky for a couple of seconds, trying to calm down a little, getting a little less rigid in her posture. Then she went to grab both the old ceramic pitcher and the cup, also made in ceramic, that had been on the low coffee table—without a base to support it since it was perfectly down on the parquet—that she had in front of her. 

"Thirsty, perhaps?" She asked politely, scrutinizing the other man and seeing him deny it with a small shake of his head. Claire—Dalai!? Seriously?—therefore put the objects back in their places, thinning her gaze. 

"Let's get to the facts if you don't mind," asserted Shaoran, his arms always returning annoyingly to coincide. "What did you request my meeting for, O'Pacific?" 

Claire—Dalai. That was his name —had a moment of paralysis at the polite title—which only his friends usually used, partly to joke around with him softly and partly because it was one of the Crucible's shared formulas of affection. The use of titles meant respect. It meant the continued trusting of each other. They receive and connect with each other's Magic without hindrance. But Shaoran was not a friend to him. He had never seen him as such—so she went back to tapping her fingers on her sleeves, taking a big deep breath.

"I would like..." she began. "I would like it if you would dissuade Xia from performing the ritual." She paused. A very small one. No longer than a blink of an eye, so short that Shaoran did not even have time to change his expression. Perhaps he did not even fully understand the request she had asked him. "She wants to do it for you ... So only you can convince her to stop what she is doing. Only you can make her see the negative side of it."

She—He. He was a male. Dalai was a male. He was Dalai—had tried. 

He had tried, even pushing harder than he should have, all to make her understand the danger her choice might bring to herself. He had desperately tried to make it obvious to her what she was getting into, but Xia—oh, the stubborn, wonderfully intelligent, and talented Xia—his Master, well, she had not listened to him. Any attempt to open the conversation was shut down with glares and the repeating of the same phrase. Over and over again. 

'I told you I'm not going to talk about this anymore. I've made my choice. You can't change it.' 

Shaoran was the only one, unfortunately, that she would listen to. Unfortunately. Just thinking about it irritated the hell out of him. Why him ? Why not Dalai instead? It wasn't fair. It really wasn't. 

The Health Mage fell silent, peering back at him for a while, before lowering his gaze with an almost guilty look. "I can't, I'm sorry," he said, his tone soft. And disgustingly happy, which made his stomach roll. 

Dalai's world seemed to come to a screeching halt. As if the seconds were no longer flowing. As if a patina of ice had gone into one of the many objects of time in the Forbidden Wing of The Crucible, stopping every living thing in its forever static state.

He stiffened and gritted his teeth. And after that instant—that very long instant of nothingness and shock—anger exploded in his chest and began to make him tremble. He clenched his fists so tightly that he could have driven his nails into his flesh. 

"No?" Dalai asked, his low voice quivering, almost interrupted by his own heavy breathing. He sounded both genuinely surprised and upset. "Why not?" 

"Dalai..." Shaoran tried to say, making an expression that looked like mild exasperation, but at the same time an understanding of what he was feeling. Which was definitely not true. Shaoran could not feel what Dalai was feeling. He could not! 

"Why not?!" He shouted, taking strides forward in his direction until he was very close, going to press his index finger against his chest repeatedly, letting go of how rude and aggressive he turned out to be because of this gesture. 

He was too angry. Almost blinded by the strength of that emotion. Too much hurt by his choice. And the more he thought about his response, the more his anger and upsetment increased. The more he thought about Xia, the angrier he became, on the verge of releasing his magic in waves. The Golems were far away from him, but that didn't mean he couldn't create a crude one from the ground if he wanted to. 

"You're supposed to love her more than anyone else and you refuse to protect her?" Dalai added, feeling his eyes burning, just like his entire face was. 

"It is precisely because I love her that I am doing this," Shaoran said, the serious expression returning to paint his face and a hint of resolve flashing in his gaze. 

"I want to spend my whole life with her. And she wants to spend hers with me. That's why I can no longer say no to her, dangerous or not. We will do it together, wherever fate takes us."

"There is a risk that she will no longer be immortal," he blurted out, still loudly, breathing harder and faster. Even more than before. His magic was stirring in his veins at maximum speed and maximum intensity. He seemed on the verge of destroying everything around him, starting with the other Mage.

He knew perfectly well that he could control it. It was part of his being down to his hair. But the question was; did Dalai really want to control it? Did he really want to stop himself? 

For the salvation of that place? Yes. 

For that of the Wizard? No. He did not care at all for Shaoran. The only reason why he never tried to show his hatred for him was that Xia would have been disappointed in him. 

"Yes." Replied the other in a flat voice. A flat voice that got highly on his nerves—and they were already pretty much fried—so much so that in turn, well, it was a factor only capable of worsening everything . 

"There is a risk that she will lose all her magic and become a mere human being!" Dalai insisted, furious. He couldn't be so dumb as not to understand that, right? Right? 

"Then I will make sure that I am going to be, too. I will live my last years of life with her. Whether it's for eternity, for sixty or a dozen years. It doesn't matter."

Dalai could no longer contain himself. The anger was so strong that it made him see red, but his magic did not move. Rather, he landed a punch in his face that was strong enough to almost turn him around. 

And because of the blow, Shaoran lost his balance, falling backward, and almost colliding with one of the sides of the table. 

"You can't do that," he muttered, panting heavily and continuing to tremble. Ignoring how his eyes were continuing to burn. Ignoring the poison of envy churning in his gut. The jealousy was flaring inside him strongly, but he did not want to admit it. "You cannot..."

"We will," he replied point blank, his left hand having gone to cover his bruise. It was already beginning to fade magically. Those words made Dalai hold his breath. "I'm sorry. Whether you want it or not, we intend to do it anyway. We will start on the day of the New Moon, after the ceremonies. And what you say doesn't matter anymore to us."

The day of the New Moon. After the ceremonies. 

Dalai breathed again on that date, his heart racing just like his thoughts. 

He still had time. Not as much as he would have liked, but he had some. He could find a way to stop them… If he found it even earlier it was better, not least because he didn't know how much to trust Shaoran on his words. And yes, the New Moon day was seen as good luck, as a new beginning, but he didn't care. The sooner he found it, the sooner he could better devise the details to put it into action. 

He could protect Xia. He would do it no matter what. Even if she hated him for it.

To Dalai, it was enough that Xia was safe. Nothing else mattered... Although the idea of being despised by her, of no longer being seen as her Apprentice and thus no longer receiving her teachings, of not being connected to her magic through her Hoard Instincts… It brought him unimaginable internal suffering. And new anger because it was all Shaoran's fault if he was risking her contempt. Only Shaoran's fault.  

He had stolen his Master. He had stolen from him the person he cared about most of all when it was quite obvious that he did not deserve her because he could not put aside his self-centered selfishness. 

He couldn't really put Xia first, as Dalai would have done in his place. As he had always done. And as he would have continued to do until the magic had run out of his veins, leading to his slow and inexorable death. 

When he would die, Xia would continue to live and shine her beautiful white light. She would have marked the world in a way Dalai would never have been able to, even if he had wanted to. And he was fine with that. 

Or at least, he—... He?... No, wait. He wasn't a he. He was right now a he, but he wasn't! —was okay with it until Claire— only Claire, this time. Not Dalai. Never Dalai, but then why had he been there before? —found herself jerking awake, pulling herself up to sit up with shortness of breath, her head aching terribly—pulpit and aching, but only in one spot, not even if she had a migraine or something—and one of her arms pinching so badly that she wanted to start scratching her own skin overbearingly. Or even bite it. But she was too weakened and too confused to succeed in what she desired. 

Claire found herself glancing first at the figure of Archibald, who was standing before her and was watching her with a vaguely tense expression, wagging his tail. Then she looked at some of the—not too far away from him—burning black grass, gathered in a hole that had been made in the ground and was cooking what looked like a black rat with three tails and two heads. The flame was so low that it was only noticeable by the smoke. 

"Don't strain yourself," he said. His voice was heard a little blurry and garbled in her ears, but she nodded anyway, managing to understand the order, however with difficulty. 

It did not take long before she came back to unconsciousness. She was too weak for some reason. Her energy seemed to have been drastically reduced to zero, making her feel as if any attempt to maintain her lucidity was an immense effort that she really could not stand. 

Before she broke into the nothingness of her mind, however, her gaze fell on her itching arm. She noticed—only partially, partly because she couldn't really dwell on the fact and formulate a sensible thought, like maybe wondering why part of the fabric of her sleeve was missing and why the armor part wasn't there at all—that one of the two red spots was gone.

********

The armor had made it difficult to swim and avoid sinking deeper and deeper into the water. And the helmet, instead of protecting him from it, had only kept him under, worsening everything. 

He had managed to avoid getting really hurt—since in the fall he had been lucky enough not to be so high that he was in serious danger of injuring or directly killing himself from the impact—but the aggressive speed of the current had dragged him forward for who knows how much time and space. 

Nothing had been clear in those moments. It had all been a mixture of purple, seaweed, bubbles, and what looked like large frogs with numerous eyes, all present on the riverbed. 

In the chaos, Douxie had been in danger of suffocating. Mainly from struggling to raise his head above the water level, but also from the fact that once he jumped out a little, taking in how much oxygen he could with both his nose and mouth, something in the air seemed to become thin and harder to keep in his lungs. Almost painful. 

He couldn't breathe into the liquid, of course, but when he got out of it a little, he couldn't breathe well out of it either . Which did not make any bloody sense, really. 

He must have swallowed a lot of it, mostly, in his fumbling and trying to swim decently. And this had testified that it was not real water, because the substance had tasted revolting, to say the least. A mixture that was a little bit like mud, a little bit like mucus, and... something else he could not define, equally unpleasant. Or that his brain refused to define, almost to protect itself from the idea. 

He had managed to get out of the river only after grabbing a large rock that had been in the middle of it, not too far from a long branch that reached the part of the river with the lowest, calmest liquid crossing it. It was from a bare tree, all curved in on itself, one of several that were around the purple river, but which in this case had had its roots right in it, below the boulders and soil.

Holding on to the rock had indeed stopped him from continuing to be tossed around and nearly drowning because of the current, but it had torn the fabric of his gloves and caused a cut in both his palms. The pain—because of the tension and adrenalin that he was feeling at that moment—he had not even felt it. Not even a little. 

Going to grab the branch had been more complicated. For a moment he had risked getting caught in the current again, being pushed by it with the same intensity as before—if not worse—but he had still managed to grab it and cling to it with his arms. 

He had used all the strength he had at his disposal, so much so that he had even wavered from breaking away from the branch, desperately continuing to search for oxygen but having to partially put his head under the liquid for relief. Which was extremely weird as it was. 

After a time that had seemed both short and endless, Douxie had managed to slowly make his way from the whole tree, the pebbles crunching beneath his feet in a deafening noise... and then to shore. 

He waited until he found himself in a stable part of the ground, far enough away from the levees to prevent perhaps something from collapsing and throwing him back into the water, then he let himself fall to the ground on his back. 

Gasping and shivering with cold—there was no cold air, no. There was no wind at all, but his wet clothes felt icy. The whole liquid had been icy—he lay there in silence. 

He struggled to breathe like a fish out of water and felt his lungs on fire. His instincts almost demanded that he throw himself back into the river in the hope of lessening that acute sensation, but just the thought of finding himself tossed right and left again in the waves, sinking and having to push himself up with his legs to get afloat… It was even worse torture than that one and was therefore enough to deter him. 

An intense feeling of shame gripped him from head to toe between lying down and gasping. Shame at its most intense, such that it led him to try to make himself smaller by rolling in on himself.

He didn't understand where it had come from at all, he just didn't understand, and that only served to increase his feelings out of proportion.

Perhaps it was due to Master Merlin's whole situation, he told himself. But just the thought of his Master, in all that chaos—in all that desperation trapping him like a bug in a spider's web—made him feel his stomach tighten. He did not want to think about him. He didn't have to think about him, or about what he had told him… or even about his total rejection. He forced himself to drive him out of his mind, continuing with all his might to search for oxygen with which to fill his lungs. 

Maybe it was due to how fragile and incapable he felt without his own magic. Maybe it was that, yes, it made sense after all. But not even with a collar tightening around his neck and his head shaved he had felt in such a way. And that had been pretty shameful—He still could not understand how Nique had found him beautiful like that. 

Maybe it was because he just couldn't breathe and it was embarrassing how the more he tried, the more he felt it disappear. He had tried slowing the pace at which he was trying to recover it, taking deep, slow breaths, but nothing. No result. No air seemed to reach him. Or at least, it reached him only to escape quickly after. 

But in any case, the reason was not important. 

He couldn't breathe! That was important. He couldn't bloody breathe and it was so fuzzing painful! He could feel his cheeks becoming warmer and warmer every second a little more. 

The emotion and sensation were there, insistent and corrosive. And they continued to stay there until Douxie put two fingers in his mouth and forced himself to regurgitate, hoping it would work.

If his ability to breathe had disappeared with the absorption of the river substance, then the expulsion of the latter might get him going again. 

At times the purple liquid seemed to stick in his throat, it seemed not to want to come out, as if it were natural for it to remain there, not even if it were a parasite in a liquid state. But by dint of coughing and forcing himself to spit it out, Douxie managed to get as much of it out as he could. 

As he did so, slowly and painfully, even the air began to seem less thin and more breathable, though some of it continued to burn inside his nostrils. But being able to breathe for real brought a tinge of relief to his mind. It did not entirely remove that choking sensation that made him partly believe he was going to die at any moment, but it was better than nothing. 

Once after he had totally emptied himself, or almost totally—he could not be sure—he barely dragged himself forward, crawling against the ground. This was only to keep enough distance from the sticky substance, which had formed a puddle. Just looking at it turned his stomach all over again… and the smell did not help. 

Once he was done, he left himself on the ground, exhausted, feeling his own heartbeat rumbling in his temples. 

He should perhaps have gotten to his feet again, left the riverside, and set out in search of the others, but all his limbs, lower and upper, weighed like boulders. Gravity seemed to have concentrated all in them, so suddenly that it was difficult for him to struggle against it. 

Hisirdoux looked at his palms—his hands were both resting on his chest, trying to regain a modicum of warmth by keeping them close—after noticing the taste of metal hovering on his tongue. 

They were bleeding profusely, showing cuts that were deeper than he would have expected. The image was unpleasant, especially as black threads and torn cloth mingled with the crudely split skin and the purplish liquid still painting it everywhere in dirty splotch, but it could have been worse. 

He could have risked cutting a vein. Yes, that would have been tremendous bad luck. And almost impossible to remedy in that situation. It would have been quicker to bleed out in the river than to reach the shore and then try to close the cuts in whatever way he could find. 

Douxie shifted his gaze from his hands to the sky above him. The blackish gray seemed to subdivide like inkblots, but without creating any sensible shapes even for his imagination—maybe because he was too tired, too agitated, and too lost for it. 

In his staring, however, he hoped that others had not found themselves in a similar situation to his own. Difficult because of the way the territory had shown from above, but he hoped for it nonetheless. 

He let himself lie there a little longer, failing to get his legs going. As much as he wanted to try, he simply did not have the strength or energy. 

In that imprecise amount of time, a thought—more or less disconnected, more or less sensible, no longer entirely related to his near-death experience—appeared and took possession of his mind. 

His phone. 

It had to be his phone that was dead. Or almost dead, although the percentage chance that it had survived was pretty slim. Douxie was soaked to the boxers, so it must not have saved itself from inside his pants pockets. Had it done so, it would have been a miracle. 

He had no more rice available to try to fix it. It had been kicked back into his bracelet. And he was not able to use his bracelet at the moment—he was not able to do anything, not like this, not with the barrier around him, really. 

He and the others had considered whether or not to put it in the stockpile earlier—before he left to close the cracks on his own—but honestly it would have been a little old, though not so old as to be inedible—main reason why he hadn't offered it at all from the beginning—so not very good...and hard to cook in a place like that. 

In any case, he couldn't get the bracelet to work or put his hands in his pants pockets to check. They were hurting him too much to try.

Everything was heavy. His nose was burning. His lungs seemed partially plugged which disturbed him. His throat was parched—maybe from the efforts he had forced it to make in trying to release the unknown fluids—and his palms ached like hell. 

Wonderful . 

'Fuzz me… I couldn't ask for better, couldn't I? I always have such dumb luck .' He thought sarcastically, taking a fresh dose of air and throwing it out in a big huff. Doing so meanwhile moved a wet strand of hair flowing from his forehead to the tip of his nose. The movement was very small. The remaining hair was mostly stuck to his cheeks. 'But maybe I shouldn't think that. Every time I do that, I jinx myself and an even worse situation comes along than those before.'

He continued to remain motionless, lying there where he was. He would remain so until he had recovered enough of his strength and the almost physical need to get to his feet. For the moment he really didn't have any, but there didn't seem to be any danger around. 

Maybe staying down for a while would help a little, maybe not. He could not know. What he did know one hundred percent was that Archie would be able to find him—wherever he was, far away or not, he was always great at intercepting his scent—everywhere. The nose of a dragon or of a cat were not magical matters, but of his own kind and that was all.

So whether he got up, set out, or just stood there for a moment trying to feel a little better, well, it hardly changed anything. 

Sure, standing still and waiting made him feel a little guilty—and it came back to make him feel the shame under his skin—but he just wasn't able to leave. The whole misadventure had left him bewildered and exhausted, so much so that he felt his eyelids weigh like bricks. 

He would not venture to sleep, not unless he knew what might pop up there, but he would allow himself some partial rest. Then he would actually decide what to try to do. 

'Let's hope that nothing bad happens... ' he thought with a sigh, his gaze falling on the river. 'One thing is certain. That liquid, whether purple or of other colors, is best not to drink it under any circumstances. It's not known if they all have the same effects, but it's best not to trust it.'

Douxie tried to ignore the possibility that if they did not find the Keeper of Balance before the food and water supplies ran out, it would force them to do so. It would have forced them to try so that they would not be dehydrated. 

He also ignored the fact that he, in his solitude at that time, had no food or water, because if he thought about it… well, he would never come out of those thoughts again, a feeling of deja vu twisting through his brain. 

Holding up a lean period in food was fine enough, nothing to be frightened of, but the effects of the lack of water… they were the worst. 

Although the probability was there and remained in a corner of his mind, he decided to pretend, at least for once, that it wasn't really there.

********

Nari did not know exactly where she was, but one thing was absolutely certain: she was underground. 

The rock above her head, a short distance from her—so much so that if she was not careful to bend well, she was in danger of bumping into it at times, even if she was small—was dark and marked with small, slightly lighter grayish veins. It also surrounded her around… though at a greater distance. And she felt it underfoot, too, hard and hollow. Lacking of life. 

It was discouraging to perceive the surface so cold and distant. So silent and detached, its Core almost hidden. It was as if it refused to connect to her, but Nari knew better than that. 

It was she who could not perceive the whispering of the rock, not the rock that refused to whisper in her ear. It was she whose senses were completely blocked, making her feel more isolated and lost than she should have been, even though she was not alone anyway. 

Blinkous Galadrigal was good company and a very intelligent and kind Troll. He stood beside her with his reassuring warm presence, and as much as at times, in their advance—in which she wished she could have gone faster, but felt weaker than normal, to the point that she slowed her pace a lot— he seemed a bit tense and eager to catch up with the rest of the group as soon as possible, it was more than obvious that he was trying not to let it weigh on her.

He must have noticed that the lack of her Magic was diminishing her physical strength, especially since her Magic, at times, was her strength. Her Mana was in every single part of her being, not only inside her Core. It was in her legs. Arms. Eyes. Hair. 

He must have noticed, too, that even pushing to proceed faster would take them nowhere. They did not know at all what and where the exit of that dreary underground stone labyrinth might be. They had never been there before and most of the things that could have helped them out were missing. 

Despite everything, however, they continued to proceed, from time to time exchanging a few words, looking at the bag and judging the various paths that lay before them, hoping that some wind—always present in caves on Planet Earth but extremely absent in that case—the sound of water, voices—whatever voices they were—or creatures might make it clearer which way to go.

It was not working as a technique for the time being, but hopefully, it would come to fruition sooner or later. It couldn't be otherwise unless they were continuing to go further and further in instead of going out. 

From time to time, both she and Blinkous would linger on the rock, looking for differences due to the moisture in the rock or just in the temperature of what they were touching. It was hot, from what she could feel, at the moment. And very dry. If there was always some language of the stone that was common to the one which was present in the Material World—not certain, perhaps unlikely, but it was hoped that at least the vital rules were the same—then trying to reach the cool rock would be beneficial, since the climate below the barrier pressure had been tepid anyway, tending toward slightly humid. 

Had it been very, very warm, the icy rock would have signaled the exit, and had it been very, very cold, the opposite way around. Because of the steam that came out from the exit. 

They proceeded for an indefinite time. It often happened that her head would spin like a top, making her feel weak and near to faint, but every time it happened, it led her to take big deep breaths. Still, except for the slow breathing and trying to gain a more clear head, she would not allow herself to stop. Or that was until they began to notice that the rock, both above and below them, was going down instead of up. And it was even warmer, sadly. 

Rocks and stones—that were not due to any natural developments she knew—were piled up right there, as if there had been a landslide. But there had not been, no. 

It was enough for the untrained eye to see that they had been arranged that way on purpose because they were ordered by size and shape as if wanting them to match perfectly and not collapse under the weight of the others. Whoever had done this had made sure that they were perfect to cover something . 

'It is a tomb ,' Nari thought, looking at them with a sad, but calm expression. 'But at the same time, it is not.' 

It lacked the smell of a decomposing corpse. Or, at any rate, the smell of bones. And if there had been, once upon a time, so long ago to not even leave a scrap, a shadow of the body, it would still have been that of a child, since it was too small to cover an adult.

Above the white stones, however, was a small wood carving of a bird—probably a crow—with an egg in its mouth. It was beautifully carved, wrapped with a strand of straw and a lock of hair, which even without her heated Magic made her know that it was covered in Magic. And on some rocks, there were dull, broken carvings, also understandable only if she had used a revealing spell. It was so easy to understand. It was so easy to look at it and just feel everything that came from the tomb. 

There was care. And emotions. But at the same time, there was a need to let go of those emotions. To hide them in the depths of the ground so that they never come to light again. Just looking made her understand the pieces of the picture clearly. It must have been too big a wound to keep uncovered.

She knelt for just a moment, resting her hand on the rock beneath the small raven.

“Requiescas in omni loco, flumen temporis tui do not relinquat, terra memor sit tui. Requiem." She murmured in a small voice, narrowing her eyelids. And hoping that her prayer would reach the Beyond, where perhaps the Gods would have listened to her. Or perhaps she could renew someone else's request; the one who had created that tomb.

Nari would have liked to leave some flowers for the lost soul that was sleeping there, but the problem always remained the same.

“We should try to redo the path we have already taken, but in reverse, Miss. Nari.” He heard Blinkous say after a while. The Troll had also knelt beside her, bidding farewell to the fallen one, whoever they were. Whatever they had done in life. 

Nari, after a moment or two, found herself nodding and stood up, giving only one last glance at the Tomb before starting to walk away from there in complete silence.

********

Toby would have been lying if he said he wasn't scared. But at the same time, even if he wanted to tell someone that he was or was not , who would he tell? He was completely alone!

The landing had been eventful, but quite soft considering that he had fallen into the greenery. But really green green , not in the simple white grass that had been about ten meters away from him. In the green so green and bright that it seemed like an eyesore compared to how dull and dead the rest was.

That didn't change the fact that he was alone. Alone, lost, and in some ways terrified to the point that he struggled to imagine a way out of such a situation. 

He didn't even see the shadow of a living soul around, not even a small one—not even his own!—... and if it hadn't been for the numerous sessions of D&D, Assassin's Creed, and much more, he probably would have remained there, his mind in a stop, his body paralyzed on the spot as if the Ice half-god had frozen him in place. And no, fortunately, Skrael—Skrael right? That was their name? Nari had said so, but maybe Skrael was the Lava dude and he had inverted them? Or… ok, did not matter, back on tracks—wasn't there. 

But yeah, he had played enough fantasy games to realize that, one , finding an actual geographic landmark would help him a lot and that, two , he had one of the four bags with him, which, while useless in the field of finding his friends, was a good point though. Better than not having it. There was food in it. Nice. 

Toby could already imagine the PC screen listing all the fruits, vegetables, and water bottles it contained, and those things that were missing. Including the allies of his game that he had to recruit. He could even hear the music ringing happily in his ears, so much so that he almost started whistling it.

Seen this way, the situation almost seemed funny—yeah, almost—no matter how scary it was on the other side.

So, alone or not, he had to get to a place where the others could be there too. A place that everyone surely knew existed and that would take them to check it or go for it, too. And looking forward he could see land, land, more land, some trees… and the giant lake in the distance, in the middle of it all. Which was like a giant exclamation mark, there. Like the colorful rivers.

But none of the rivers were near him yet. Maybe moving towards the lake was the best option, but trying to proceed horizontally would also perhaps help him find a river in the first place… and then see what would happen. He couldn't do otherwise, honestly. And he was more than sure that that was what Jimbo and the others would do too. Not to mention that Aaarrrgh and Archie had a good nose, which helped a little in the whole finding people stuff. 

He had to try to reach the destination… and then wait there. Yeah. He really couldn't do otherwise, no matter how much he wanted to.

He seriously hoped that someone would notice him or that he would find that someone in his path, also because he had never liked being totally alone.

Having always had Jim and Nana as a child, then Aaarrrgh, Blinky, and Claire and gradually getting closer to more and more people had made it difficult for him to imagine what true loneliness was, even if he had felt that way from time to time.

He had never really experienced it before, though. And maybe it was never supposed to happen considering he was only sixteen. Maybe learning to be alone, as bad as it sounded and seemed to him, was part of becoming an adult. Maybe.

It still sucked, though. 

Chapter Text

TRACK 26

I'm the next act

Waiting in the wings

I'm an animal

Trapped in your hot car

I am all the days

That you choose to ignore

(All I Need- Radiohead)

********

"Are you serious?" Asked Alice, appearing extremely confused, her gaze going over and over between the three of them. She could not focus on the face of any of them without sensing dizziness. Her injured foot was still throbbing and bleeding, but it was outside the shoe. Much less she could see the Owl in the same way, not after seeing him almost flying in her face. 

"Extremely serious, my dear," Minerva quipped, smiling in her direction. All the while Miss. Emerald grabbed the bottle with the green substance and then poured some on her fingers, getting down on her knees in front of the girl, then grabbing her ankle as gently as possible. 

A small groan escaped her lips the moment her teacher started to spread the mixture where the wound was. 

'Agh! It burns, it burns, it burns!’ She went to close her eyelids—feeling her eyes water—and to clench her fists, trying to breathe normally. 

Alice could not seriously understand what it was. It had no recognizable smell. And that green could have been who knows how many healing herbs. She couldn't define it, but it hurt like hell. Not as much as a piece of ice piercing her bone, but it wasn't going that far either.

"We are desolated for the aggressive method that was used," Minerva then added, still sitting and still smiling, although she let a sigh escape. "Helena just can't control herself, unfortunately."

The appointed Witch rolled her eyes, legs crossed and arms pretty much the same. "I had to be as convincing as possible, didn't I? Appearing as a real danger was necessary to see how far she would go. There are no half-ways in this sort of thing."

"You could have avoided piercing her bone, though," observed the former, barely shaking her head in disapproval. And Alice agreed with her whole mind, soul, and body regarding that opinion, because, for goodness sake, a low blow like that could have been avoided. 

She had been terrified to death before, too, after all! The foot injury had added almost nothing to the mixture of terror and need to escape other than the fact that she had had to limp to do so! It was more the wall of ice attached to the door that had partly taken away her hope, not such an injury! 

'I really could have done without it... I definitely can't leave this place by tonight anymore. Not reduced to such a state. Maybe not even in a week. Flipping hell.' She thought in frustration but bit the inside of her cheek to keep silent. 

She stayed silent both to avoid irritating her—she could live so much better without even that, really—but also because, despite everything, she couldn't help thinking about it: Miss. Emerald’s past teacher had been an amazing actress.

Alice had believed it. If she had been her past self—the one that had been ten years old, with one of the first guns in her hands to learn to shoot, all because her parents wanted her to. That her, yeah—she might even have pissed in her pants. A fact that was embarrassing to think about, but still true.

"She is a Witch." Retorted Helena piquantly, almost offended, but fortunately not in Alice's direction. 

Her irritation rose slightly, however. Helena was acting as if she was the one with a hole in her foot. As if she wasn't the one who had hurt her in the beginning and so they were blaming her for no reason. 

"It will heal quickly." She added, huffing. "Especially with your sister’s remedy, it's impossible for the wound to not do that..."

'Huh.' Alice blinked. ' Good. That's good to know. Not a week to heal, but a little less. Still, really, what is this thing?'

She almost questioned it out loud, but she stopped herself since Helena started talking again.

"... And in any case, you've done much worse."

"With enemies, yes..." admitted Minerva, leading the blonde girl to feel partly uncomfortable. 

These enemies they were talking about… had she impaled them with branches? Or crushed them with them as if they were a boa constrictor, suffocating them in the process? Or even worse? She could not imagine anything worse without feeling a chill run down her spine.

"...But one cannot take half-measures in war. Allies should not be mistreated in such a manner, come on. Tested or not."

Helena let out another low, annoyed huff. "As I said, it will heal. I've already limited myself far more than I should have."

The thought froze the blood in her veins even more than the death fantasies that had arisen at Minerva's declaration. 

If that had been limiting herself to Helena, Alice could only imagine what her full potential was. Maybe—maybe more than just a maybe—if the old witch had really given her full power and been seriously her enemy, she would already have been bound to an ice chain, in a corner of the cave. 

As if she had read her thoughts, Helena went to look into her eyes. 

"You did well," she said, as composed and cold as a high school teacher. "The idea of holding back your Aura to escape was good, but you should have done it later or more gradually. Not in that way. Sensing all your terror rise and disappear drastically would have been a big anomaly for anyone."

... She was right about that. It was partly embarrassing to think about it. 

"You should have diluted it gradually, keeping me busy. Or you should have directly hit me and then made it disappear. Even better, make it disappear after passing the stairs entirely since they would have continued in one direction anyway, while the options for finding an exit would have been different." She paused. "In the general panic, Milo's attack made you predictable..."

'Uh. Well, you know, it was kind of hard to find another option and... Yeah, okay, no. That's true, too.'

She tightened her lips and nodded her head in agreement.

"... It conditioned you to find the first room available for protection. Going out the window was just as predictable, but passable, especially counting that you were injured."

"But the fact that you were still prepared to clash in a three-on-one... And with your teacher included in the trio, it raised your points." Miss. Emerald added, raising her head after spreading a second dose of the green unknown substance. This time it did not hurt. It simply bothered her a little. "It demonstrated your unwavering sense of justice. Despite the partial emotional connection, your respect for the lives of others did not fail."

"I was just afraid..." Alice murmured, almost not even realizing it. The words simply slipped from her mouth. "Everything I did, I did it out of fear. Not for any respectable or praiseworthy reason."

"If you were only afraid... and only afraid for yourself… you could have just given up," Minerva observed. "In the view that Helena had not lied or acted and that, therefore, she was your opponent, no one would have harmed you if you had agreed." A small pause. 

"You would have done what she asked. She would have given you all the food and water and everything you needed. And once you were done, sure , there was the possibility that she would throw you away, but there was also the possibility that she would seriously notice your abilities and judge them as a trump card." 

The Witch went back to reaching out and resting her hand on her arm gently, caressing her. "I have seen what fear, especially fear of death, does to living beings for several millennia, my dear. The reactions are always the same. Some get down on their knees and pray for forgiveness... And some get up to respond and fight back." 

'Huh? ’ Alice found herself staring at the woman wide-eyed, gasping. Her gaze fell on Helena, Miss. Emerald and Milo for only a few moments, then back to the Witch. ' Several millennia? In what sense several millennia?... It can't be. That would be to say that she is almost as old or older than Merlin Ambrosius. But I had never heard of a Witch named Minerva before... In any book, if you don't count Harry Potter… in any legend in the history of the oldest Witches...' 

Minerva. Minerva . Minerva was still telling her something, although her brain could not connect what. 

Maybe she wasn't getting results because she was still confused by what had happened, and the confusion was messing with her brain. 

Minerva . Of course, it was a common Greek name, but it was obvious that it was not one of the complicated ones she had never heard before. Just thinking of that name reminded her of the girl who had been called on the street by her mother not even four days before.

But Minerva, Witch? One who was over two thousand years old? One who was several thousand years old, without specifying how many? 

Minerva. A Witch with an Owl as her Familiar. 

Minerva. Owl.

‘...Wait, what?' 

Minerva. Maybe not a Witch —she had said she was, but maybe she had lied? As Helena had acted to challenge her and see her reactions, maybe she had acted too—although she had Mana in her, that was obvious. 

So…

Minerva. Owl. Millennia. Wars? 

And Helena. Simply Helena. But still, Helena . Also not an unfamiliar name , but also a Greek name. But was she also connected at the same time as the first woman? Or wasn’t she? Because if she was... 

'No, wait, I must be losing my mind or something. Because yes, Minerva is indeed one of the many names of the deity of Athena, which mostly has an Owl as a symbol... and Helena is reminiscent of Helen of Troy, but no. It can't be. It can’t-flipping-be that right now I'm talking to a deity and the theoretical most beautiful woman in 1200 B.C. No way. '

Alice struggled to swallow, feeling much more uncomfortable than before. "...Several millennia?" She asked slowly, her voice pretty low. 

It was suddenly very hot in that room, even with an uncovered foot being hit repeatedly by the sea current coming in through the window.

'I mean, it has to be a fun random coincidence, not a serious thing... Right?'

"After a while, you stop counting them," Minerva shrugged her shoulders, "The years flow by in blinks and it's hard to have entertainment when everything seems to be more or less repeating itself between one universe and another."

That sentence was enough to put her brain on standby. First, she was silent, her eyes wide. Then she uttered a shrill sound that slipped from her mouth rather awkwardly. Then she made her saliva go sideways and began to cough, unable to help but feel her heart speed up. 

A feeling of faintness began to make its way through her. Somewhere between the fact that it couldn't be possible—no-no-no, it flipping couldn’t… because, yeah, for what absurd reason should she have an actual, flesh-and-blood deity in front of her? It was impossible—partly because she was barely breathing—perhaps from coughing—and partly because it seemed to her that everything around her had started to spin in circles, while her head had become as light as a balloon. 

Instead of fainting, Alice burst into a laugh that was as hysterical as it was nervous. The fact that she was in Greece made it all the more coherent, but at the same time even more weird, for some reason. 

"Sorry." She said, trying to stop laughing, but even starting to shake and bringing her free hand to the precious stones, hoping that her emotions would flow back into them so that they would leave her alone. Pure embarrassment roared in her chest when she managed to stop. 

"I’m sorry, I…” She breathed in and out, a blush painting itself on her cheeks. “...I'm such an idiot," she found herself muttering, taking more repeated deep breaths. The shame that ran through her from head to toe did not seem to want to subside. "I don't… I didn't mean to burst out, but… When I'm nervous, I sometimes laugh. I’m really, really sorry."

"That's okay," said Miss. Emerald with an amused tone, a reassuring expression painted on her face that made her feel a little better already. "And in all honesty, you could have reacted worse than that. I did the first time I met her." She nodded her head towards the deity, whose smile enlarged.

"Oh." Alice squeezed the stones between her fingers, still feeling Minerva's hand on her arm. "Could I... could I ask why I'm really here, then? If it wasn't because you wanted me to connect with the Orbs and all... Why, then?" 

Helena stood up, reached into a cabinet drawer, and sat back down with a nail file in her hand, starting to fix them like nothing else in the world mattered. She did not say a word. She merely cast a glance at Minerva, who instead started to speak again.

"Well. As I said before, between one universe and another there is usually nothing much of interest. Seeing everything from the Beyond becomes repetitive, and coming down from time to time, not being able to stay for long, is almost just a hobby for us." She said, as Milo approached her and leaned on her shoulder. "But this Universe’s Earth has been pretty chaotic lately, as we know you know. A little bit because of the First Sons ..." She seemed to sadden just barely, but rather briefly. "And a little because of the arrival of Wizards and Witches pretending to be Gods. It irritated some of our people up there, you know. They can be pretty haughty."

Helena gave a little snort, continuing to fix her nails. "Says the one who took offense at not getting an apple from a little boy." 

Minerva seemed to get irritated by her statement, but at the same time, she controlled herself enough to get over it. "... As you must know, Deities cannot interact too much in the human world."

Alice barely nodded. The results of divine works in human life, if large and due to prolonged time, always eventually ruined the Balance and led to real catastrophes. Or… That was what was written in many books. She wasn't one hundred percent sure about anything at this point. 

Gods, she had so many questions ! So many things she wanted answers to! She could have started writing them down and she probably wouldn't have finished doing that even after something like ten—very packed—pages! 

Maybe staying there a little longer to get knowledge wasn’t that bad… but just a little! Just in the time that her wound needed to heal properly.

"We cannot remove the problem from ourselves. We can only assist and… let's say, root for people. Or at best, give little... pushes to whoever we want. But human destiny is not in our hands. Not more than that. Not anymore." She paused, her eyes opening, appearing to be a color that was totally new and never seen before. A color that made her hold her breath, as a bigger blush went to paint her cheeks. "I have a little push for you, my dear... Think of it as a warning."

********

The meat of a multi-headed rat was different from that of a normal one. It was drier, tasting almost like chicken, but with an almost spicy tinge. It had more nerves and many more bones than an Earth rat. Nevertheless, he did not dislike it. No, not at all. He had even licked his whiskers—obviously, before even trying to calculate the idea of eating it, he had made sure it didn't smell sick or, somehow, infected. The smell of it had been blood and flesh only. 

Claire, behind him, had fallen unconscious almost immediately after waking up. The fact that she had indeed done so and that her heartbeat was proceeding at a steady—if slightly slower-than-normal pace—led him to hope for a positive turn of events. 

He would let her rest a little longer, then prompt her to wake up and set out to try to get back to the Knight as soon as possible. And then to resume the search, letting her rest again, but protected by the man 

Gathering more members of the group and doing so as soon as possible was his primary goal, although the idea of leaving an injured person behind made his nose turn up quite a bit.

'But at least Sir. Galahad will be there to cover her back. Better than nothing.' He thought, wagging his tail and stretching his ears again, always straining to pick up scents. 

Nothing abnormal. Nothing new. The almost total silence there was, well, was almost unnerving. If there had not been the girl's inhaling and exhaling, his own, and the tapping of his tail against the ground, it would probably have been much, much worse. 

Certain kinds of silence, Archibald had started to take a negative view of them, whether he wanted to or not. Somewhat like Douxie had done.

The one there was at that moment was one of those he disliked the most.

He started to clean his fur and scales more out of habit than need, but he did not stop being alert for a second. Not even for the briefest of moments, although his return to the paw that was filled with red spots almost succeeded in distracting him. Almost.

When he concluded his work, Archibald again found himself faced with that silent, unchanged climate. His gaze hovered between the outside, between the ashes of the leaves in the hole—though only a couple of times—the piece of armor left not too far from Claire and the unconscious girl herself.

Of the latter, specifically, he observed the fabric that blocked the flow of blood. If it started to get a little too red, of course, he was going to tear some more to change it.

He stood motionless there where he was for an unspecified amount of time—not being able to know in any way how much had passed except perhaps by counting the beats of his tail on the ground but doing that not only loomed as a way to increase his nervousness, but would certainly take his concentration away from everything else—then he ripped another piece of fabric to change the first one. 

He moved around, without actually getting anywhere and then returned to lazily sit on the ground, still waiting silently. 

He did the same process at least two more times before she wasn't even leaving small blood traces on the fabric and he sat there for a lot more time, so much that he felt rested, before he forced himself to try to wake Claire, whether he wanted to or not.

It took him a while, but he got effective results, leading her to pull herself up onto her elbows again, rubbing a hand over her eyelids. 

"I'm sorry to wake you, but it would be better if we got going," he told her in a whisper, barely tilting his head. "Can you manage to walk?" 

"I think..." Claire began, her voice still slurred with sleep and her expression a little confused, almost puzzled for some reason. "I think so."

Albeit with difficulty—and with some help—she managed to get to her feet. This after seeing, grabbing the rope, and putting it on her shoulder.

She was shaking a little from the effort but seemed determined enough not to let such a fact stop her. 

Something, however, in the girl's expression betrayed a small feeling of pain. He almost regretted asking her to get up, but… he really couldn’t do otherwise.

A partial silence formed again, but the sound of the girl's uncertain steps made it much less heavy. Perhaps because the advance was able to remove much of the restlessness and upsetment that was stirring in him. Perhaps it was because it highlighted the—very far in the future because it was going to take a while—properly set in motion of the process of finding others.

********

Douxie had put aside all his fatigue and bad thoughts, and painstakingly kicked his cell phone out of his pockets—as he had imagined, it was fuzzing dead. Blast him —he had removed his wet clothes and then momentarily put only his armor back on. 

He had repeatedly tried to wring the purple liquid out of the fabric, though it had been a real struggle, especially counting the burning wounds still on his palms, but he had little means to do otherwise. Once he had felt them only slightly damp, he had first shaken them and then almost decided to put them on a second time. He ended up avoiding it but got very near to it. He felt deeply uncomfortable. 

‘ I’ll give it a little more time to dry, then I will put them on again.’ He thought, walking around in a circle to wake his legs, all with the armor on and only that—not counting the underwear and the tape—and feeling it rub a bit against his flesh. It was one of the most annoying sensations ever, but he had to make do. 

Douxie had then tried to wrap those same cuts as best he could, tearing off a few layers of the tape—although it, too, was somewhat damp—trying not to take too much of it. 

After doing so, no longer wanting to stay around that place for much longer, he started to look for possible footprints in the ground. A partially worthwhile endeavor, counting that the ground was quite dry for most of the surroundings, it seemed… but not so much as to make it impossible to leave any footprints. 

It was, however, devoid of footprints other than his own and those—extremely tiny—of the same frogs he had seen on the riverbed. 

After finishing keeping track of the ground, after observing the row of trees on the river's edge—thinking about it and weighing the pros and cons—he chose the tallest one to climb. 

It was about the fifth in a row, not too far from the one he had clung to earlier. Unlike that one, however, it was not hunched, but sturdy, straight, and still had a few small leaves dotting its branches, albeit visibly decaying. 

He left his damp clothes on one of the lower twigs. Then, after a quick stare to look for the best one to start climbing, the retractable black knife and the cell phone corpse were placed beside the trunk. 

Coming up, from the very beginning—from the first piece of wood clutched between his fingers—proved to be somewhat complicated.

His muscles ached tremendously. His hands struggled to close tightly around the branches without throwing twinges of pain at him, and his body was much heavier than normal. 

The lack of his magic was being felt, mostly… and in the constant shaking of his body, of his pushing himself up and forcing both lower and upper limbs to function, well, it wasn't helping at all. 

It was as if every tensing and stretching to go up was destined for his almost inevitable risk of slipping. He could see himself, in his mind, crashing to the ground like a ripe pear, but Douxie did not deter himself. He did not allow himself to.

In between, that simple climb had almost become a challenge against his frustrations. A way of proving to himself that he was capable of doing something if he put his mind to it, even if that something was the simple climbing of a bloody tree—and, of course, it wouldn't be recognized by anyone. It was just that—But it was something. 

For Merlin he was useless, it seemed. Okay . 

He didn't want him anymore. Okay . 

He couldn't change his mind. Okay . 

But at least he could do something for himself. Small or not. He could avoid thinking about how stupid and frustrated he felt. He could avoid feeling shame under his skin again and focus on getting to Archie and the others. Because at least that was something.

He wouldn't be useful for his Master, perhaps, but he would be useful for his Familiar, for Nari, and for the Guardians, taking a burden off them—he didn't want to be useless even to them. It was something that disturbed him at the very thought. 

He therefore continued climbing, gritting his teeth and concentrating hard.

Selecting branches to hold on to and rest most of his weight on was a crucial factor, one that gradually became more important depending on how high he would climb. 

He intended to climb as far as he could, as far as the branches would be solid and large enough. He was not going to risk going over. He was not going to risk breaking his neck just to get an inch or two for a better view. 

However, anyway, even those could still make a difference. 

Reaching about halfway through the plant, he forced himself to draw breath for a few moments, then to resume the path with the same attention he had given it before.

He therefore ignored all the rest of his emotions as if they were merely annoying insects at that point. Mentally, he started to distance himself from them and to define anything other than the determination to get to the top as momentarily useless emotions, unimportant, to be kicked into a box and locked inside. 

He even ignored the breaking of something on his back, the pain of which was a passing sensation as he moved a hand from one end of a branch very close to the trunk to one that rose higher up, more hidden from the others, but which appeared more than suitable for use as a foothold. 

Hisirdoux was almost at the top of the tree after what seemed like both seconds and freaking hours . He found himself clinging with both arms—almost twisted around the wood—only to let himself sit carefully on the edge of a flat joint in the tree. And then he left himself where he was, trying to breathe even a little more regularly. 

He took in and threw out oxygen repeatedly, but gradually tried to slow his rhythm. He found himself closing his eyes briefly, opening them again only when his heart rate also returned to normal.

And then he allowed himself to scan everything he could see. 

The fact that the barrier covered by eyes was no longer visible to him was good for his sanity, but quite bad for his orientation. This was more than obvious. 

Otherwise, Douxie could see soil, trees, ground, the purple river, and little else... But he could still catch a glimpse of what appeared to be birds not too far away—food, if he had a bow, or if they came close enough for him to throw the knife at them. No, never mind, he had left it down and had already partly forgotten about it during the climb because of how much he had been caught up in the whole process—a lake ahead and what looked like the next river in the distance to his left. The orange river, specifically. 

He tried to focus well and remember the order of the rivers he had seen from the castle, but his mind struggled to focus. He had kept too little eye on them to remember fully where one was and where the other was. He did remember that there had been the pink river in the center, though. That one was pretty easy to remember. And he also remembered that the purple one had not been too far from it.

The rest was pretty hazy. Too nebulous for his taste, so much so that it bothered him.

His brain functioned enough to remember a castle at a distance of nine hundred years—nine hundred! Not a dozen! It was not a small number, indeed... But his brain was a bit of a mystery, he at times did not understand how the hell it worked—but it did not start as it should to remind him of the landscape. A landscape that was not of a not-important kind of place, but an unknown one in which he had to—at least a minimum—know his way around if he didn't want to risk wandering there indefinitely. 

'Wonderful. Truly wonderful .' He thought, rolling his eyes and almost slamming his hand back against the helmet of his armor—hah. The habit of putting his hand in his hair was quite a problem—but he managed to avoid it by a whisker. 

Sighing and trying to lean out a little more, he strained to notice something that he perhaps missed. Anything at all. Even the absolute smallest and most useless detail. 

He had the position in his favor, so he had to take advantage of it as much as possible before he got out and started in earnest on his way. 

A tiny black spot, after several minutes of careful observation—the most careful he could—grabbed his attention. It could have been anything, seen from that angle. It was so tiny that it was seriously impossible to define, just as it was impossible to define whether it was a problem or a good thing. 

Curiosity took hold of him overbearingly the more he kept an eye on the shape. And the more it worked its way in, the more he began to think that maybe, yes, maybe, he should start from there. That seemed more or less like a good option, especially since it was halfway through the way on the lake.

Or at least he hoped it would be a good option. But for that, there was his knife, on the other hand. Or his legs, to start to run away immediately. That is if the first had its effect on the opponent and the seconds were fast enough. None of them were facts to be taken for granted, unfortunately.

********

"It shouldn't be long now," Archibald observed, pulling Claire out of the same repeated images that she kept ending up bringing back to mind, albeit unwillingly. 

Despite all her attempts to banish them from her thoughts, in fact—especially because of the twinges of pain that kept adding between them—they insisted on coming up and trying to make themselves known. They insisted on irritating her, so much so that she had to force herself to avoid grinding her teeth. 

It was as if the anger that had been present in them was bubbling up inside her at the mere memory of it. It was an explosive anger, unnatural and corrosive, totally out of control. 

Claire, especially around Merlin, had often been angry, but this specific kind of anger was on a whole different level. 

"Okay," she found herself muttering in response, swallowing and taking a big breath. 

She did not want to be angry for no reason. She didn't want to. It made absolutely no sense. 

She tried to focus slightly more on the landscape, squinting to look ahead and look for the figure of the Knight or the river in the distance.

She could see something, even though it was pretty blurry. She forced herself to avoid persisting, however. Not because she didn't want to, but because she just couldn't. 

That attempt alone had led her to feel a slight discomfort in her head again. Claire felt that trying to stare more would cause her even more pain. And with a more powerful twinge in her head, well, she wasn't sure she would be able to keep walking.

She had to hold on. Hang on until she reached her destination. Just that. She could make it. Archie had said it wasn't that much further, so she could do it. 

Focusing on putting one foot in front of the other was a bit tricky, but not that tricky with a Dragon who was constantly trying to help her advance. Maybe it was because he was supporting some of her weight. Maybe it was also because she was determined enough not to let herself go to the ground suddenly. Highly possible for both of the options. 

But since she was unable to focus on what was around her—having only gravity as the center of her attention—Claire could not escape from the constant reminders of her weird dreams, nor from the feeling that continued to flow aggressively through her veins like blood. 

She, at first, had wanted to talk about them, but really, only thinking about them hurt her. And it seemed that the more she tried not to be influenced by them , then, the more the emotions flowed through her, becoming overbearing.

It was absurd, to say the least. It was like running around in circles, which didn't help her frustration. 

A part of her that was getting bigger and bigger as she advanced—the same part that had wanted to make her gnash her teeth like a wild animal—was asking her to start screaming, for some unknown reason. There was no point in being so angry about a dream that didn't even concern her personally!

“Archie…” Claire said almost in a whisper, feeling the Dragon's eyes rest on her with curiosity. “I know that… I-It may seem stupid at a time like this, but… W-would you… Could you please distract me?”

Archibald was silent for an instant—two instants, three—after her request. Then he started talking. “You were participating in the Battle of the Bands, right? Before Morgana began the Eternal Night and the Gumms Gumms rose to the surface..."

"Yes. But… I'm not… I'm not entirely sure that what I was doing qualifies as participating. I… I missed a lot of rehearsals.” A tight smile appeared on her face.

Archie stayed silent for a little, his gaze boring on her. “Doesn't matter. Which was your Group?”

“I was with Mary and Darcy…” Claire swallowed saliva with difficulty, feeling it glued to the roof of her mouth. “The three of us were the Mama Skull Band, in theory.”

“Ah… I feel like I know that name.”

“It… It was inspired by Papa Skull.” her smile already became more genuine. “We wish we were like them,” she almost chuckled at that thought, though rather bitterly. It seemed a little stupid to think about it now.

“At least you tried. Better than stopping without even attempting.” Archie sniffed a little. “Having experiences is the first way to end up pursuing a dream, between one thing and another.”

“… I don't know if this type of life allows it… For none of us, really.” Claire swallowed a second time, still feeling her mouth rather dry. “... I don't think it's possible.”

“Why shouldn't it?” He asked. “It's not that just because you had a particularly busy time, the rest of your life will be the same. There will be days like this and there will be times when you will find yourself twiddling your thumbs in boredom. Then there will be periods that will be a mixture of the two things, but nothing is certain."

Claire blinked a couple of times. She remained silent for a few seconds, biting her lip slightly. A single humming sound came out of them after a while.

"So? What role were you supposed to have?”

“Singer and bassist…”

She was a pretty poor bass player, in all honesty, but at first, it seemed quite the opposite. The feeling of the musical instrument in her hands had been almost electrifying, perhaps because of the prospect of her becoming like one of her favorite singers.

“Like Alice, then…” the Dragon stated in a murmur, almost more to himself than to Claire. After a moment, he sniffed the air again and spoke in a slightly louder voice that was aimed at her. “I have to say that I saw you more like a piano player.”

"Really?" Surprise crossed her face almost in stages, gradually becoming more intense at the whole new idea jumping in her head like a static image. "Why?"

“I can't really tell you. Maybe it’s because of your bearing. Or maybe just for a musical instinct that comes from being around musicians all the time..." He paused, so small that she only had time to move her mouth slightly in a sort of silent 'oh' . "Or, again, maybe it's just a question of sensations.”

Claire had always found pianos, aesthetically, very beautiful. And the sound was equally pleasant to hear. But she honestly didn't have a clue what to think about them. She had never really used them.

“But maybe, thinking about it…” She went back to jumping on Archie. “... Maybe your hands are a little too small for such an instrument. Ok, delete everything. Definitely a wrong sensation.”

The Dragon's comment made her smile slightly. More for the tone used—thoughtful, at the same time hasty, and... was that perhaps a hint of embarrassment? Or was it just an impression of hers?... Well, whatever.

“Okay,” Archie moved his head left and right for just a second as if checking something. “Excluding music… If my memory serves me correctly, you, Jim, and Steve had theater rehearsals.”

Claire gave him a quick confirmation.

"Your favorite opera?"

The smile on the girl's face widened noticeably at that question.

Chapter Text

TRACK 27

So I sent her to a place in the middle of nowhere

With a big black horse and a cherry tree

Now it won't come back 'cause it's oh-so-happy

And now I've got a hole for the world to see

(Black horse and the cherry tree - Kt Tunstall)

********

"Let's stop now," suddenly spoke Mr. Magic Man with something peremptory and distant.

Finally!

At last, after what had seemed centuries and centuries, so long and unbearable that he had almost begged for mercy from boredom—since more than advancing it had seemed to him to stand still as everything continued to be flippin' identical, empty and desolate. The only thing that testified to the contrary stood in the fact that his entire body felt like it was in pieces from the effort and… that the holes in the path always had strange shapes. The last one he had seen had looked like a moon, the second-to-last one had been like a rabbit, the one before had reminded him of Aja, etcetera—he had permission to stop moving forward.

Steve let himself fall back to the ground almost instantly, a grimace printed on his face. Or more to the point, his legs gave up on him altogether at the exact moment he bent to sit, causing him to crash painfully to the ground. And at that, to the sharp aggressive impact that echoed in his being, he could not hold back an expression between indignant and slightly contrite.

He barely perceived Douxie's Master scarcely moving away and then turning back to sit down, but he could perfectly hear him begin to fumble with the bag, enough to raise his head, if only slightly. 

He almost received an apple on it. He managed to avoid it by a whisker, his arms reaching out to grab it and avoid a possible bruise.

When the fruit landed in the center of his palm, the pout printed on his face earlier even seemed to widen. Before he could protest in any more detail than a simple "Hey!", though, the man started to speak as if nothing had happened.

"I'll take the first watch, you eat and sleep. I'll wake you up later to switch," he said. His tone seemed not to want any kind of response or rebuttal, but Steve dramatically ignored that fact.

"Okay, fine, but then how do I know when to wake you up?" He found himself retorting in fact, sounding mostly quite offended, although it was always due to the apple throwing more than anything else. He then gestured around with his hands, pointing at what they had around and starting to speak fast. "Do you see some type of alarm clock? Or a rooster? I don't! And I mean it, man! There isn't even the sun! Do I have to count sheep?” 

Mr. Magic Man made a face, furrowing his brow at a few points of his speech, then huffed. "I'll wake up myself," he quipped dryly as if he was stating the most obvious thing in the world. "Unless some emergency arises, you are highly discouraged from attempting to do anything by any means."

Man, Mr. Magic Man was worse than Mr. Eraser in his mighty pole-in-the-butt way of talking. 

“Not even…” 

“No. Not even that.”

“But I didn't even finish talking!” 

“Doesn't matter. Anything means anything. Now, silence. There is no need for any more blabbering.”

"All right, all right. Jeez." He asserted, even more irritated, but too tired to say anything else or even attempt debating, setting himself down in a decent position, though struggling mightily. He immediately took a bite of the apple, chewing noisily.

It tasted better than usual, quite juicy and fresh. Maybe because of the way his stomach seemed to be way too empty for his taste. 

He finished it so quickly that in the blink of an eye, he found only the core between his fingers. Eating made him feel a little better, though not by much. The hunger in his stomach persisted to stay, making it grumble. 

When he raised his gaze, he noticed the old Sorcerer staring him down with something very austere. 

“What?” He couldn't help but ask. 

Mr. Magic Man stretched his arm to give him a water bottle. "Do not drink it all,” he ordered. “We are low in supply."

His eyes fell on the open bag resting beside the man. There was only food in it. Lots of food, perhaps most of what had been distributed. 

And there were barely two bottles. Plus one, however, which was of that half-alcoholic milk thing whose name he had already forgotten. 

‘Not cool. Nope. Not at all.’

He found himself looking at the clear liquid in the container Merlin was handing him and barely nodding, a small shiver running down his spine at the last comment Doux's Master had said.

“Do not drop it,” added Mister Magic Man again as Steve made to grab the bottle.

He couldn't help but roll his eyes, letting out a big snort. "Oh, don't be a party pooper, I'm not that clumsy!" he blurted out, still reaching for the water with two hands. "It's not like I'm a three-year-old, you moody old man."

"'How did you just call me?" The man's sour voice seemed to become rougher than it had been before, while his brow raised, making him look scandalized. 

"Moody old man," he repeated without a second thought.

 If Mr. Magic Man treated him like a newborn child, then he would publicly treat him like the cranky old geezer he was. Easy peasy. 

It would have been more than nice to add a few more adjectives, too, but he couldn't actually get some right at that moment. 

The Sorcerer looked at him dreadfully, visibly wanting to retort with numerous remarks and like he was going to go bananas out of nowhere, but ending up huffing and muttering something too mumbled and garbled to be easily understood. 

Steve, in response, dismissed him drastically. He first took a few sips of water—fresh and pleasant—and then closed the bottle very, very carefully. He gave the cork as many turn as possible to prevent it from opening, giving Mr. Magic Man smug looks in between as a ‘told you so’ 

It was not gonna leak water. No water was gonna disappear. Nope nope. Not under his watch! 

He returned it and Mr. Magic Man grabbed it back with a rather annoyed expression—probably because of his small eye jabs—but said nothing more.

 After that, Steve went back to lying down almost instantly with a thud, this time placing himself on his side instead of ending up on his stomach, his arm preventing his head from being in direct contact with the ground.

He let out a big sigh that, as it escaped from his lips, turned into a yawn. He didn't even try to cover his mouth, letting it out in an uncontrolled manner, his jaw open to the point where it looked like it might even dislocate. 

The ground was as hard as a rock—and it was made of it in certain places. Not everywhere, but yes. Underneath him, however, there were none at the moment—but despite the general uncomfortableness, well, it wasn't so terrible that it kept him awake. It wasn't so annoying that he didn't feel exhausted and on the verge of collapsing at any moment. 

In no time, he succumbed to sleep, allowing himself to sink into total nothingness, no dreams to accompany him into the unconscious. The last thing his eyes caught before he succumbed to fatigue was the gleaming metallic gray of his armor.

********

Archie had observed Sir. Galahad used some disinfectant on Claire's wound—too much, perhaps, but better more than less—then covered it with several rounds of clean gauze. He had followed the whole action with his full attention, wanting to be sure there were no problems. 

The girl had lost consciousness almost instantly after the process was over. And honestly, seeing her fall into sleep so quickly, well, it had thrown a good amount of relief into the Dragon. 

The feeling made its way into his muscles, his bones, his mind, relaxing him. It did it all in one swift stroke, making him feel lighter. It was as if a giant boulder had been removed from his back. 

He allowed himself to be flooded with emotion for several seconds, then, after looking around, after getting up from his sitting position, and after stretching himself—appreciating the whole process from start to finish—he decided it was the right time. 

"I'm going to look and see if there are any others around." He asserted in fact in the direction of the Knight, even giving his fur a slight shake.

"Don't you want to stay and rest a while?" asked Sir. Galahad, barely arching his thick eyebrows. 

"No, there is no need. I already have rested before," he replied, looking at the man with a subtle glance, especially at seeing him pull out his flask. "You need to protect her while I'm gone, Sir."

"Aye, Aye," the man smiled good-naturedly, shaking the container in his hand. "Will do. There is no cause for concern. Knight's word." He brought his free hand to his chest, tapping it loudly like a caveman of some kind. 

The expression on his muzzle should have not been looking particularly convinced by the promise in any case, even though Archibald was pretty sure he hadn't shown anything particularly harsh—Yes, he had a negative view of past Knights of the Round Table, just like Douxie, but even though the man could be quite terrible, in the worst case scenario he was good enough—he resumed speaking almost immediately as if to convince him. 

"I wouldn't fall asleep in a situation like that if that's what you believe." He laughed sneeringly—sounding quite amused, as always—drinking from the flask again. “Besides, I have had one of the best sleeps in the whole universe during those days!”

Archibald tilted his head, scrutinizing him some more, trying to see if he was being serious or if he was joking around.

It seemed to be the first option. 

“... Good for you,” he asserted, waving his tail a little. 

“Indeed, indeed. Good for me!” The man returned to hide his flask in some unknown part of his armor. 

Only someone like Sir. Galahad could have defined a night of hallucinations as the ‘best sleep in the whole universe’ and be extremely happy about it. 

With this in mind, he couldn't help but snort loudly. Then he removed the thought and resumed sniffing the air, looking for any other possible trail. 

He walked around the place for a while, struggling to detect any new fragrances. He had to move as far away from the yellow river as possible to keep his nostrils from picking up only and only its scent—which was not that unpleasant, on the contrary. It was almost good. Still weird, yes, but it was a little like the scent of cut grass and something he could not define. And the most interesting thing was that it seemed to become better the more he smelled it. Sad that the same rule didn't apply to the rest of that place. 

After an almost endless time, he seemed to pick up on something, but he was not sure whether it was a sensation he seemed to feel due to psychological factors or whether it was an actual smell. 

The question seemed to be answered by the first option because that something disappeared from his nostrils. But then he felt it again. 

It was faint. So slight that it disappeared and reappeared in bursts and Archie could not at all understand where it came from.

With his nose going from the air to the ground every three by two and slow cautious movements, he nonetheless took to moving forward, proceeding almost tentatively from the ground and trying not to end up risking getting into a hole in the meantime—capable of flying or not, he gladly did without it. There was something about those groundbreaks that he did not like at all. 

If he went flying, he doubted he would be able to feel that trail anymore. It was too thin. Too smothered by all the other smells. The probability that trying in the distance to catch it would work was very low, almost nonexistent. 

He changed positions in his course a couple of times before he felt the scent barely magnify, probably either because he had chosen the right one or because the same subject it belonged to was heading in that direction. 

He hadn't gotten much stronger, but enough to let him know that he could proceed in earnest and not zigzag over the course like a truffle dog. 

It was a small improvement, yes, nothing that big and definitive, but good enough to make him realize what scent he was following and, after a brief moment of disbelief, who he belonged to, drastically removing the possibility that he was an enemy. 

Archibald quickened and lengthened his pace, beginning to go faster. At one point in the whole process, he had become so fast that it could almost seem as if he were running.

He was not going to rise into the air until the smell was stable enough—quickening the pace was more than necessary. Even if it still meant taking longer than desired. Much, much more time. Much, much more effort. But that was okay. 

He wanted the smell to be stable. He wanted to have a trail so clear that even when flying he would not lose it for a moment. Because if he took longer in such a case, in case he lost it... it would be infinitely worse. So, better to keep it on the simple-on the more cat-like side in him, at least for that moment, for that little bit of time necessary. 

From a simple, very quick step, he got going when, behind him—although he paid no attention, more focused on moving forward than looking back—the yellow river disappeared from his possible view once again.

********

She could see County Clare. She could see it, just as she could already notice, albeit quite a bit more vaguely—having to strain her eyes—the lighthouse on the coast of Inisheer, flanked by the keepers' houses. 

The view of the Island made her take a big breath of relief, as some of the frustration from the length of the journey began to slip away from her body. 

She tensed slightly forward—so much to coincide with Donn's back, who nevertheless remained static and somewhat silent, focused on moving the vehicle forward—and let herself scan the landscape with partial attention. 

She sensed the flying motorcycle slowing down again, gradually lowering in altitude—though not by too much, since they were not yet definitely at their destination—and the vehicle threw a small snort in the movement, but except for that slight whine fortunately it gave no trouble. 

They flew over the rest of the remaining North Atlantic, which was quite calm on those seven o'clock Irish evening. They were behind the original schedule, but that was fine anyway. 

No one in the Lair would have criticized them for resting a few extra hours before making the sixteen-hour journey… not that anyone in the Lair—high or low position, with minor exceptions to the rule—would have ventured to criticize the Bones Witch anyway, especially knowing her character. They were not so stupid and masochistic enough to do so. 

Donn and Nemain passed a hint of scattered meadows, divided into light green and yellowish patches. Then they reached the limestone plats, staying along the east coast.

The carcass of Plessey's merchant ship appeared in less than ten minutes of rapid flight. 

Donn had hijacked it in 1960, stealing everything in it and making it the new official entrance, removing the one inside O'Brien Castle. 

The rusted remains looked—as usual—about to fall apart at any moment. That wasn't true at all, of course, but it was their way of chasing away the silly outsiders who were snooping around a bit too much. It deluded them into thinking they were in a partially dangerous situation and thus led them to just take a few pictures without touching anything. 

Nemain still did not understand why, exactly, it had become a tourist attraction. Had it been a castle, she would have understood—reason why they had moved the previous entrance. When they still hadn't formulated a real, definitive plan to remove the issues humanity brought, always having numerous ball-breaking people in the way who risked crossing the passageway… well, it hadn't been the best—but it was an old, decaying-looking ship! A stupid wreck should not have attracted so much interest. 

But people, it seemed, were rather strange as well as dumb and often dirty to the core. They would see a gutted heap of metal run through with brown-orange stains and come up with comments like 'heritage' or 'hiking gem.' 

'What a shitty taste,' she couldn't help but think, rolling her eyes. 'Well, at this point anyway, the ones who go in by mistake don't come out anymore even if they ask for it on their knees, maggots that they are... Unless they want to be turned.'

Once close enough to the ship, the bike came down completely in the blink of an eye, and Nemain forced herself to cling to Donn's jacket again, almost digging her nails into it. 

As reliable as the vehicle proved to be, the descents were always far too rough for her liking. They were not as loose and pleasant as letting herself fall into the void, creating a kind of giant sphenoid—short-lived, but essentially more than useful in the moment of action—to land decently, but, counting that she was up there, that it was already happening and that her magic was somewhat unstable… She was fine with that. Ish. 

When the wheels rested on the ground, they made a screeching sound, as if complaining again. They whined even more with the unstable progress of the ground in its steady rocky up and down. 

After a few seconds, Nemain could sense the boy's Aura in front of her appear and then disappear. At that exact moment, the engine turned off, leaving them stationary, literally two meters from the side of the wreck. 

Nemain jumped off the bike, feeling her legs tingle as she placed her feet on the ground. She struggled to move decently for far too much for her liking, but she still did not allow herself to waste any more precious time, immediately pulling straight and making her entrance. 

Cracked metal, rocks, seaweed clinging to the wrecked axle, and bugs running right and left greeted her at first impact, but moving straight through to the center—coming more slowly, almost with a safe distance, was Donn. He clutched his vehicle and, as usual, did everything to avoid fouling it—reached the passage, touched it, and passed to the other side amid the whispers of the wind and the roar of seawater. 

A whistle echoed in her ears. Wooden domed buildings, arches crisscrossed with carved sculptures, and the inspection roundabout drew a faint satisfied smile from her as she saw them again. The black flags with a Seal painted in gold—the same that had disappeared from her pockets—however, removed it just as quickly. 

She quickened her pace, a big irritated grimace plastered on her face. She did not even turn to check if Donn had entered in turn, but she heard a second opening of the passageway anyway, the whistle repeating itself. 

The Bones Witch passed the roundabout, immediately heading toward the main building.

She climbed the stairs almost two by two, passing by twins and a woman she had seen before but whose names she could no longer even remember. 

She was sure she had spoken a couple of times with the twins, but only about the training rounds. Whereas with the witch… she didn't remember ever even trying to speak to her. The way she gasped at seeing her, moving as far away as possible, made it more than clear to her why. 

She opened the white main door of the palace wide with magic, moving quickly inside and being watched by those who had been in the main room. Most of them did not attract her attention, but one certainly did. 

"Nemain!" a familiar voice—slightly nasal but still sweet enough—jumped up almost instantly, cracking the silence with something cheerful and lively. 

Bechville. Nemain was more than sure that she could recognize her anywhere. 

She came at her like a bolt of lightning. She embraced her in a rush even before she could deny her in any way, almost knocking her off balance in the process. "You're here! You surely took your time!"

Morgana's Apprentice, in response, pushed her backward to try to pull her off herself, though she did not do that aggressively. 

"Yes, yes, I'm here," she said in a flat voice. "Don't turn into a mussel, Girlie."

The nominee did not seem offended. Her smile remained just as wide as it had been while she had thrown herself at her, the ink on her cheeks, on her arms, and the color that painted her hair entirely looking just as vibrant as before. 

"I missed you!" She continued again. "It seems like decades since I last saw you."

"That’s a bit of an exaggeration..." She sighed, starting to set off again with her at her side almost instantly. "Macha?"

"She's not here," was Bechville’s prompt reply, her arms barely moving. "Her mission has changed, it seems."

Such a comment shocked her enough to look at the girl with the most puzzled expression ever. 

Inkheart shrugged her shoulders under her attention, barely bobbing her neck. "She didn't explain anything to Badb. She just told her something like three hours ago that she would postpone her return," she paused. "It's nothing serious, it seems."

Nemain could not help but stare at her for another moment, two. And she could even less restrain herself from huffing, rolling her eyes for the umpteenth time.  

'Seriously? Right fucking now? What an absolute ass. I swear, if she ends up acting like Neit I’m going to make her regret it.'

It was not possible. Was it necessary to increase her stay on the road just when she needed her most? She just wanted to fix the mess she had made, whatever it was! Was it too much to ask, fucking dammit? 

The urge to kick or maybe punch something rose to the surface in waves—she definitely would have done it. Maybe not right away, as she was exhausted after sixteen hours of travel, but she would have done it anyway, eventually—but she forced herself to swallow the explosive irritation. 

"Are you hungry?" Asked Bechville, drawing her attention again. "The escort group arrived just now with the cuttlefish, swordfish, and whiskey."

Nemain nodded. Her stomach barely rumbled, empty and long in a way that made her mouth taste like tree bark. A bit of fish wouldn't have hurt to remove the sensation. 

"Did someone also come with some new magic weapons?" She asked. And she cast a glance at a new face she had never seen. The Unknown person passed by her side. If she noticed her, it was mainly because of the outrageous amount of deodorant and perfume she was soaked in. Which was always better than being enveloped in a cloud of sweat, but damn, that halo was truly capable of making you feel lost. 

'I need to check the arrival log as well,' she thought. 'See who came back, who left, who joined, and mark my return.'

It had happened to her more than once that she had forgotten to do this in previous years, whether she wanted to or not. 

It was easy to get distracted when everything seemed more interesting than a constantly growing big book with names, names, and even more names flanked by dates and little reports.

Practices, as important as they were, she knew were more than annoying. For her, it was much, much better to take action: to train and plan. But also going outside with subordinates in search of food. Anything not to sit still, sitting at a table and leaving signatures and marking proceedings. 

Macha was the one who was good at it. She was the one who preferred to take care of it, usually, in the group of founders and managers of the Lair. But ... precisely, she was missing. 

'If the change of mission is not something important, something extremely necessary... I swear I'll make her jewelry box disappear and cut locks of her hair in her sleep.'

Nemain would have been angry. And a lot. She already was, partly, but in that case, it would have been much worse. 

She laid her gaze on Bechville, who had not yet answered her question, seeing her reckoning with her hands, an absorbed expression on her face. 

"... About six, if I'm not mistaken," she asserted after she finally seemed to reach her conclusion. 

'Better than nothing... Let's hope they're at least useful.'

"They also found some pens and very rare magic ink, you know?" Girlie seemed to light up brightly. "I was thinking of trying to use some for a new tattoo, but I can't decide what to do with it... Would you give me your opinion? An invisibility spell or another one to try to summon flames without having to enchant, like the Firebenders from Avatar?"

Nemain peered at her in silence for a moment or two, then snapped her tongue against her palate, returning to look ahead. The staircase took a curve to the left, showing a long corridor with several doors and another straight staircase. They continued on their undaunted ascent, passing another pair of people, who were discussing the effect of catnip on werewolves in the full moon. 

"So? Please? An understandable answer, pretty please?" She insisted in front of her silence.

"It's your body. Do what you like," she merely told her.

"It's that I want both!" jumped up Bechville, sounding somewhat exasperated. "That's why I was asking for an opinion, you know. Not to air it out," she let out a little snort, her neck swaying again, followed by a sob, at which she winced a little. And then she cursed out loud.

Instantly, the blonde could not refrain from giving her a little pat on the head. "Tattoo them both then. It's not like you use that ink just for fun. You're doing it for you. And because you deserve them."

Inkheart—after an initial moment of silence in which she seemed to think about it—looked at her with vague disappointment. "You're no help at all, dammit," she murmured. 

She fully returned her attention, staring at her with a serious expression. "I'm not kidding," she snapped, then crossed her arms. "You should have everything you want. No exclusions."

Bechville almost walked faster under her look, her mouth opening and closing a few times. "But then if someone gets mad… I mean, I’m not the only Ink Mage here, it would be a little unfair..."

"Unfair where? You’re the best one. If they act like pricks, I'll fucking kick them for you. Easy and fun."

Inkheart’s jaw snapped as the Witch was looking down, appearing to be pondering about it, though showing some visible chagrin.

 "... I'll see if I have enough space," she affirmed after a bit. "I think I will be able to."

The woman's face was crossed with a faint, satisfied smirk. "Good Girlie."

Bechville continued to square her for a couple of seconds in total silence, then returned the smile, first more mildly, then openly.

“Thanks,” her eyes and her tattoos shone a little. 

“No need.”

********

The large cave underground had not improved. 

They had no idea how long it had been since they had been dropped in there, but it seemed an eternity, to say the least. After the tomb that they had seen, everything had reverted to a monotony of tunnels that did not seem to have a pattern or any real difference in factors that might allow orientation. 

It was a real labyrinth. One of the worst ever. And it was suffocating. 

The need for fresh air, to stop advancing like blind people—often ending up in paths that took them to dead ends, making one mentally swear and the other stare blankly at the void with some tension building up—was high. But both seemed to elude them with quite a lot of insistence

At yet another hope gone up in smoke, the two allowed themselves to slump to the ground, their backs against the cold, but not too cold hard stone walls, gasping with fatigue. 

They were tired enough that they did not even feel able to speak, letting the silence continue without anything to break it, the only exception being their repeated, rapid, heavy breathing. 

All the stillness led Nari inevitably to close her eyes, letting her pulse and the rhythm of taking in and throwing out of oxygen slow down, to make that natural silence even more intense. 

Once she succeeded, she went back to sharpening her hearing, exactly as she had done before, but not letting the failures she had hold her back. 

She listened to the silence. She listened to the lack of wind whispers, looking for some change in it. She leaned her ear against the rock, looking for vibrations. 

She then let herself feel the ground, running her fingertips over the stones that rose and fell in the perfect chaos of nature.

Then, in a small spark of an idea, she pushed forward, getting on all fours and flattening herself against the ground, below the slightly—but only briefly, before he realized—confused gaze of the Troll beside her. She did not notice him looking at her, though, too busy following her instincts.

The overlapping of her whole body with what was beneath her—even where her Core should have been—made her feel more connected to her surroundings, albeit not in the way she would have liked. 

It made her feel the stability of the rock. It led her to listen to it in its unwanted silence in a different way than what she was used to. 

But nothing seemed to move. Nothing seemed to change, not even in the smallest nuance. 

Still, she did not give up. 

She chose to remain where she was. Both to continue her listening and to let her whole body relax and release the stress due to the long, seemingly endless proceeding without reaching the set goal. 

The silence in the stone continued to remain, but the negative feelings successfully flowed out of her. Tranquility and peace gradually took their place, accompanied by a new dose of confidence and hope. 

Sooner or later the ground would speak. And she would be ready to catch its whispers. She would be ready for the smallest vibrations. To the smallest cracks present in what she found above herself.

After seconds—Or minutes. Or hours, who knew—she went back to her seat, first smiling at Blinkous with all the calm positivity she had, then returning to the walls, standing and testing from her new position, letting her eyes close again. 

Silence. Darkness. Cold, but not too cold. Simple stillness. 

She detached herself. She started to move forward, being followed by the Troll. 

At times she returned, in the process, to flatten herself again, while Blinkous used all his hands against the surfaces, cautiously. 

They proceeded like this again and again for what seemed like an equally endless time, but then there it was. 

A vibration. Tiny. So extremely small that if she hadn't been looking for it, she would have lost it. 

An animal made its appearance, though it was not at all clear from where. It was similar in its muzzle to a fennec, but with the size of a rat and with a fan-shaped tail, of an anomalous coral pink color. 

It stared at them vacantly and distantly, its pupil-less black eyes that, as much as they seemed to be resting on them, at the same time seemed to be studying anything else. 

Then he darted away, making the ground vibrate again in that very slight and almost imperceptible way, disappearing into the darkness. This was even before the two could reach him. 

In their attempt to follow the little one, their pace hurried—being much more vibrant in its impacts on the ground—they both ended up almost slipping.

Initial surprise froze them back in place upon realizing that the cause of the almost tumbling down was a large puddle in the corner. A puddle that was trickling down, flowing through a small hole in the wall and accumulating due to the extreme moisture in the rock there. 

Even trying to peer into the hole, unfortunately, nothing could be seen, but leaning her head against the damp wall, Nari could hear much, much more water flowing, fast and utterly untamed.

********

She could not stop thinking about it. It was as if her whole brain was focused there, unshakable, rocking on that one sentence that Minerva had said to her. 

It was simple but mysterious, and perhaps as a whole, it was enough to catch her attention completely. 

Don't look back, she had said. 

After the Goddess of Wisdom had spoken such words to her, all previous questions had disappeared from her mind, as if being pushed away. 

She had fallen into silence. She had been silent in her instinctive Breath Technique, with which she had purified her Precious Stones, having neither White Sage to burn nor bells for their respective Techniques. 

She had been silent as a tomb even in yet another round of the substance on her wound, while Miss. Emerald had muttered something about Panacea and snake oils. 

Even at that moment, lying on the bed in the room they had left her—with the tinkling of the curtains as a background—she could not keep quiet, her brain going a thousand miles an hour. 

Don't look back. 

In what sense? Was it a psychological or physical looking back ? And when, exactly, was she supposed to avoid doing so? And was the look back meant only for her or others as well?

‘To be slightly more clear, no? Was it that bad? Was that too much to ask?... Perhaps it was. Perhaps it was like breaking the balance already, yeah.’

She rolled over in her bed, first slightly, then much more, and in the opposite direction of the previous attempt. She did it so much that she looked like a roll in the cool blankets. 

She could hear Milo's cry in the calm night air and ended up barely shivering. She really, really could not see him in the same way, as she had thought before. 

The distraction brought by the image of his claws breaking through the bathroom door did not last long enough, however. 

Don't look back, her mind whispered again. 

The phrase echoed several times in it like a mantra, tearing her a little annoyed sound. 

Okay. She understood that she should not have done that, whatever the occasion was. 

What was more than certain was that she would not forget those words even if she wanted to. They would be engraved in her flipping brain, vexing her until she would have lost it. Until it was gonna be the end of her. 

After another little annoyed sound erupted from her lips, running her hands over her face several times, she ended up untangling herself from the tight fabric that surrounded her and sitting up. 

She stood, struggling to hold back a small grimace of pain at the twinge that struck her limb at that one shift.

Cautiously, careful not to put too much weight on her still partially injured foot—already much less than before and, damn, when she saw it in that state she couldn't help but widen her eyes in surprise—she started walking to get out of the room, somewhat clinging to the walls.

The house was shrouded in darkness, but not to the point where she could not proceed, mostly because of the pale moonlight. She could see the shapes of the furniture, and that was enough to keep her from constantly running into them. 

She proceeded until she found herself in the hall, slipping into it like a ghost, not even knowing, exactly, what she would do once she reached it. She only knew that simply lying in bed twiddling her thumbs would not help her. 

"Are you still awake?" Miss. Emerald said in a soft voice—a couple of moments later to the one in which she made her entrance—causing her to jerk and almost jump in the air. 

She searched for her in the darkness, finding her in the far right corner, lying on the small sofa that was against the wall. She had a steaming cup in her slender hands, and her short brown hair in perfect order testified that, unlike her, she had not gone to bed. 

"... Yes," she admitted in a whisper after a couple of seconds. "I can't sleep."

The woman made an amused little snort, "Many thoughts on your mind, I imagine."

"Actually... just one," she replied, still cautious to move. "But that one alone makes me feel like my brain is about to burst or something,"

She felt just like she had when she met Carlos in the woods, before ending up in the middle of Granada’s Coven. Only that… this case was even more intense. 

Miss. Emerald nodded. "I see," a pause, "Do you want to sit down? Standing must still hurt pretty badly."

Alice did so without being asked about it twice, taking a big deep breath and trying not to take up too much room, stepping on a particularly puffy pillow with her elbow in the process. 

"Would you like some Stregonia?" Asked her teacher once she was seated. 

"Stregonia?" She questioned in reply, confused. 

‘What the flip is that?’

"It is also called Sideritis Syriaca. Or Greek mountain tea." The woman pointed with her head to the large kettle that stood on the table in the center of the room, further to the left. And she sipped what she already had in her hands. "It might help you relax a little." 

"... Huh. How does it taste?" 

"It's sweet. Vaguely floral."

'Well... that doesn't sound bad. Okay. Why not give it a try, then,' she thought, finding herself nodding again in her teacher's direction. 

Miss. Emerald smiled, small wrinkles appearing around her eyes. Then she saw her lift the kettle magically and make a cup appear in the same way from the kitchen. 

"Thank you very much," Alice whispered, grabbing it when it reached her hands. 

"You're welcome. I hope you like it."

After waiting for it to cool a little, she found herself sipping the drink, feeling its warmth expand in her chest. She made a little happy hum of appreciation, letting her head rest against the back of the sofa. 

Yet another Don't Look Back resonated through her thoughts.

Alice sighed. And she drank again, shrouded in the silence of the night, which was partly always broken by the noises emitted by the Owl Familiar, whose position in the building she honestly had no idea about since its noises were not particularly loud, but they were nevertheless perfectly audible. 

Then her gaze rested again on her Teacher, feeling suddenly observed. Her green eyes stared at her with seriousness and something thoughtful, although it was not understandable what she was thinking about. 

Only suddenly did her gaze seem to change, almost becoming softer and then saddened, although Alice was not sure whether she had imagined it or not. 

And what Miss. Emerald said—almost immediately after that look her gaze returned to be  serious and thoughtful—caught her off guard. 

"In case you still aren't able to sleep after the drink… would you like to start with some basics of Lithomancy?"

Chapter Text

TRACK 28

Talk to me as I am sleeping

Hold me while I'm dreaming

Honestly I could just breathe you in

Met you when my heart was bleeding

I'm constantly feeling

Drifting through an endless reverie

(Dark Beach- Pastel Ghost)

********

Naoya Sano's face peeked out from the empty space between the wall and the door of Hikari Akiyama's room on a late evening in Japan. He did, and he did it with the strangest expression she had ever seen on his face. 

He just stood there and did not knock, did absolutely nothing but stare at her where he was for several moments, his dark eyes—no longer hidden by the colored lenses, which were resting on his forehead, where short dark strands of hair were in an absolute mess, like usual, perfectly comparable to a bird's Nest—gleamed. 

And that expression of total attention—the nervous stalking type, Hikari couldn't help but think—lacking any kind of explanation… It wasn't the only disquieting quality about him. 

As if that were not enough, his small, knotty hands were hanging on the door, not even trying to imitate Spider-Man himself or something like that. Half of his body seemed to be almost swaying, from there, though not in such a way as to loudly crash against the wooden floor surface. 

Hikari, just from looking at him, already knew that there was going to be a massive, utterly chaotic, storm coming. A vengeful tempest of the rather explosive kind, perhaps. Maybe not dedicated to her specifically. But for other people? For sure. 

“Get off the door and just tell me what you want,” she asserted in a flat tone and with an arched eyebrow, peering back at him, one hand ticking against the computer's cursor while with her left leg, she pushed and pulled the chair next to her a bit repeatedly.

Naoya did exactly as he was instructed, even though while descending, reaching down, and touching the ground with his feet, well, he honestly seemed to be almost disappointed. 

“Do you... uhm... Do you recall the favor I did to you, Hikari-chan?” he asked in a half-voice, a smile on his face. And he began to move through tiny little footsteps, as if afraid of making the floorboards creak, shoving one of his hands into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone. 

Hikari merely nodded her head. Of course, she remembered, it was almost a stupid question to ask. It was genuinely hard for her to not remember. 

Hikari's situation in October had been hard to forget. It had been when she had been selling pills to the Main Underground Gang, all to gain their trust—their patronage—and at the same time to scrape together a few yen. A mixture of the two things had allowed her to have eyes and ears everywhere in the city and to therefore keep on hiding, keep her freedom. But it had still brought her into trouble all the way, as the whole thing had ended in a downfall that was connected to what might have been called some sort of magical Yakuza. 

But Naoya—who she had met only twice, and one of those had been a call for help—in his second shape, armed with a katana, numerous kunai, and his unleashed Magic, had kicked everyone's ass. A sight to watch, for someone like her who had been caught somewhere between the option of being beheaded and being pretty much kidnapped and tortured.

So, yes, she remembered very well, but whatever.

“Well,” his voice was soft, extremely quiet, as if he still didn't want to be heard by anyone. As if even the faintest of noises could attract too much attention. “I would like for you to do one for me as well. A small one. Nothing to worry about.”

Hikari, running her own hands over her temples and then moving several strands of hair from her face, let out a small, mumbled “Okay...” all while looking at him with an expression plastered across her entire face that incited him to quicken his pace, because he was seriously far too cautious. Far too slow. 

“Alright, then...” Naoya leaned closer to her, his mobile phone in one hand, the other one tapping on the screen frantically. A moment of silence ensued. Then, “Could you hack this phone? Or intercept it? Or a combination of the two, perhaps?”

Hikari arched her eyebrow, mild shock painting itself on her face. “Why would you even need to... ?”

“No questions, please.” Naoya stopped smiling suddenly, appearing more than serious. “It's classified as Top Secret.”

He sounded both tense and excited as hell. 

“...Okay,” she muttered a second time. “So, tracking down a phone number?”

“Yes. Or at least start with that. Could you? Possibly right now, if you don't have something more important to do?”

Hikari grabbed the cell phone without much thought, without blinking or giving him a vocal response.

The individual Naoya wanted her to intercept was a contact whom he had named Midnight Blue Hero —a bit cringe-worthy as a name. It screamed Power Rangers , but who was she to judge?—and that had a black cat as their profile picture. 

Just looking at the picture made her instantly want to sneeze. Lame old-ass reaction to cat fur allergies. Luckily enough, she hated cats. And cats hated her back.

The chat the two had had was hidden. All of the messages they had exchanged had been deleted, but it was pretty clear that the texts were only a short range away from each other. 

It was all very suspicious, but ... It was okay. It was a Top Secret mission of sorts. She didn't need the details. She didn't need them because she had no intention of getting into trouble a second time, unlike Naoya who seemed to do it almost for fun. 

She started fiddling, first fighting with the mobile phone, then with her PC, poking around all over the place to pinpoint the precise location, fetching an already half-consumed cigarette and bringing it to her lips. She took little time in doing so, all things considered, mostly through a few nudges here and there.

When she concluded the process in the smallest of details, the detected destination left her somewhat perplexed. And as a result, the cigarette practically fell out of her mouth in surprise. 

“It says that it is in a nonexistent location .” She asserted with pure bewilderment. 

“Yeah. That's it. That's the problem,” quipped Naoya in a somewhat unnerved tone, getting up from the second chair in her room that he had ended up sitting on during Hikari's work. He had his head resting on his hands, and his elbows weighing down on the wood of the desk, before. Now they were just moving all over the place, almost jerking from one to the other. “During the call I tried to make, it was saying the same thing... This is why I would like you to hack him? I want to see if I can find some more explanations for that.”

“Uh… All right…”

“But once hacked, don't read anything. Don't read messages, don't listen to audio... Just leave everything to me, pretty please.”

“Yes, yes, I understand. You didn't need to tell me that, Naoya-san.” She blurted out, sighing and slightly rolling her eyes before getting back to work. 

Cracking the true internal protection of the phone took more than the few little nudges that she had used to get its—utterly nonsensical—location.

Even with literal hours, with sweat running down her spine, with Naoya intent on yawning every three by two, the defense of the unknown person's phone didn't drop. It even got her PC a damn, heavy virus. What. 

She had to pause and take a bit of air because if she didn't, she would have ended up screaming curses. And throwing hands, too. 

She restarted her work exactly after getting back in the room—a plate of dorayaki in one hand and a strawberry milkshake in the other—trying to work in a different way to get in the piece of the electronics system. 

While she did, Naoya's eyes were on her constantly. 

********

After wandering around the cave for who knows how long, following the sound of the running water, Nari and Blinky finally ended up in a part of the cave that was so big and cold that it froze the blood coursing through her veins, all the plants on her body retreating to hide among the leaves, closing off drastically. Yet everywhere around them there was not even a hint of ice. 

The space they had found themselves in widened up all over and rose to such an extent that the ceiling seemed about six, seven meters away, even though all of it continued to be visibly curved down. It was interrupted by rocks, numerous stalactites, and crystals that protruded, but were still so far away as to be impossible to touch. Had they come loose, their fall would have been destructive, to say the least. 

The ground beneath them was smooth and slippery in places, so much so that both of them had to take small steps to avoid falling as they walked forward. The effort became even more complex as they advanced, especially counting that although smooth—almost aesthetically perfect—the slope was such that, should one foot have slipped off, the fall would have continued for numerous meters with no way to halt it. 

In the middle of the cave, they could see the river, which they saw horizontally. A rather long, almost endless-looking river flowed down from a wall—the one furthest to the left—and proceeded straight to the right in total darkness, where there appeared to be a gallery of some kind. It was much smaller than the one that they exited to get there.

And the river was the one with the bright pink color, just like all the little creatures—all identical to the first one they had seen—that went around it at a slow pace, which was an almost unnatural slowness. This was before they threw themselves into it—falling in, it seemed. As if they didn't have the strength to support gravity with just three legs. Or as if they did not want to support it—and to disappear from view. 

Not even a hint of ears or tail peeked out of the liquid. Nari had looked for them as they moved ahead, expecting them to come ashore again or to catch a glimpse of them swimming, but she did to no avail. It was as if they had been swallowed completely by it. 

“Miss Nari...” murmured Blinky, taking her attention away from the river. His voice was very low, so low that if they had not been so close at that moment, she probably would not have even heard him. 

“Yes?” she asked in response, raising her head. A tone of voice similar to his was born from her. All of a few moments before she found herself staring at Blinkous Galadrigal with a hint of concern, an emotion that could only increase upon seeing the frown that was painted on the Troll's face. 

“I think I see something,” he said. He went to point to a seemingly vague spot in the darkness that was many, many meters away from them. 

Nari tilted her head, giving it her full attention. She found herself squeezing her eyelids as hard as she could to focus properly, to even look for something, some shape in that obscuring darkness. But by standing still on the spot she could not get a single proper glimpse of anything. 

She threw a single look in Blinky's direction—who had not shifted his eyes from what he was pointing at—then returned to look forward, walking several tentative, ever-so-small steps. Both because of the texture of the ground and to be sure not to get too close. 

If there was something there, being too close to it would be more than dangerous. Especially if they were caught in it. 

Following those small strides, she went back to squinting and observing, also feeling Blinkous flanking her in the process. 

Peering into the darkness had not improved much, but it had enhanced enough for her to see a silhouette looming in all that stark pitch blackness. 

It was quite large and appeared to be crouched over itself. The only reason it was visible was because of the pink river that was almost glowing in all that inky darkness... And the being was very close to it, especially its head. 

In shape, its head was long, similar to that of a possum. But there were no eyes on it, not even in the direction of the mouth. 

No, it had no eyes on its muzzle, which showed flashes of greenish fur. But peering closely, another couple of steps taken forward, she caught a glimpse of one, just a little further away from what looked like one of his front legs, where the ligament should have been. It was... pale purple. Perhaps. 

Nari could not help but hold her breath, knowing perfectly well what creature that was. A feeling of mild terror enveloped her stomach and her blood froze in her veins even more than it had been before. 

“Miss. Nari?”

“Do not breathe...” she said, immediately reaching out to grab one of Blinky's arms. The Troll seemed, just then, to better visualize the creature in turn. And realize what it was too, so much so that all his eyes went wide open. 

“Great grumbling, gruesome...” he uttered in a low thread of voice. And he inhaled as much air as he could to hold it in as long as possible, just as Nari herself went back to it, trying to ignore the tension. 

She was more than sure—they both were—that that was a Daolaogui. One of the most venomous creatures in the entire East, quite famous for it everywhere, but which technically should have been extinct—and thus making this one the last of its kind—in the middle of a dimension opened by the Core of a Phalaenopsis Aphrodite. It had been torn from its original land, from its home and times, by the Portal. All this when the flower had been Purified by Dalai. 

And the purple eye, just like the green fur, said that it was a male—if it had been a female, the colors would have been reversed—so it was not only one of the most venomous creatures but the most poisonous ever. One spit, whether in the face or elsewhere, and they would have both died. Not even their bones would have been left in contact with such corrosion. And the rest of them would have been eaten, the creature tearing off chunks of flesh—and stone. It ate stone, too—with their sour tongues, almost made of sandpaper in the parts that weren't covered by acidic saliva... and by their very, very sharp teeth. 

They couldn't run. Not with where they were. Not with the way the ground was. They could only avoid being noticed, which was quite tricky anyway. If not impossible, even, counting the capabilities of his senses. 

And really... wasn't it already odd that he hadn't noticed them yet? That he had not moved at all from where they were, even when they had spoken to each other? 

He was conscious but had shown no real signs of response, except to blink and to ... keep his long tongue dipped in the river. Lapping on it.

Nari frowned, taking a few more steps forward, trying to keep an eye on him, but at the same time not to be too close in her wary strides. 

The violet eye even went to rest on her, but even staring at her, scrutinizing her, there was no... There was no lucidity in its eye. There was no liveliness. No glow. 

It was a sombre, dull pale purple as if someone had sucked out all its vitality. It was quite disconcerting. 

And while the Daolaogui could have been pinned down as a great danger that would have brought inconceivable pain and a slow and painful death, Nari, standing and seeing it in that state of apathy, of mental and emotional emptiness, pitied it greatly. 

They moved away as quickly as they could, however, to avoid the case where it might have changed its opinion and that hunger could have been the first emotion for it to focus on. And the two of them… the first food available. 

********

Jim was more than sure that, whether he was thirsty or not, and whether he was lonely or not, it was far too early to start experiencing hallucinations of any kind. 

In the Darklands it had happened all too often, but he had spent much longer there before having imaginary sightings of people. It took quite a lot to see Claire and Toby, before hearing them chatting... sometimes questioning him things, sometimes berating him for choosing to go alone, for choosing to leave them behind. At times they even told him that they didn't care, that they were happier without him.

He had found himself staring at his mother. She had always been silent, always waiting for something he had never understood what it was, exactly. If it was for him to say or do something, it was never clear. She only seemed to look at him with something like judgment and pain jumping into her gaze.

He had found himself looking at Blinky, Aaarrrgh, and Vendel, all of whom kept asking him nonstop where he was and why he wasn't at the Trollmarket when they needed him to be there. 

It happened often. Too often. To the point that to stay sane he had carried five pebbles in his pockets, all of different sizes. Little pebbles that he had tried to carve out at least a little to make them more distinguishable. He had drawn them on walls, too. 

But here... It was too early to see things where there were not. People where there were not. It was far too early to be fooled so easily. 

And even if he was hallucinating in such a way... He was not seeing anyone he knew. 

As he kept marching along in the middle of nowhere, still seeing only soil, soil, and more soil, he occasionally did seem to catch a silhouette of a person whose face he could not see. 

He stood beside or in front of him during his seemingly never-ending and extremely repetitive journey. He stood right there and just looked at him. 

The first time he had seen him, he had been far away from Jim. He had tried to run towards him, hoping it was someone he knew, but once he had reached him, he had not been there anymore. He had felt quite foolish at that moment, to say the least, but he had passed over it rather quickly, merely shrugging his shoulders and pushing himself to move on as if nothing had happened. It had been a trick of the eyes, he had told himself. 

The second time had been very similar to the first, but he had not run towards him. He had just walked very briskly, wanting to be sure that someone was there. And the silhouette had been steady, had increased its size, had been more visible in his advance, enough to revive in him the hope that it was a person. But about two meters away, it had vanished again like a cloud of smoke, leaving him staring at the horizon with a grimace etched on his face. And in that case pretending nothing had happened, putting it aside, had been much more complicated for him to do. 

The third time he found him at his side. He had seen him out of the corner of his eye. And he turned around, but once again there was no one there. 

The fourth time, he had always been at his side, but when he turned around one more time, he remained there. And so Jim found himself staring at a pale figure with no facial features, no eyes, nose, or mouth in it—but even without one, he had felt him staring at him everywhere—with messy, black, very long hair. For the rest of him, he had been surrounded by a thick dark cloak. 

Jim had tried to speak to him, that time, but the figure had disappeared moments later, once again. And he cursed out loud. 

It had happened four, or five more times, but once again with a bigger distance separating them. And at times the unknown entity's hair was tidier, pulled back. At times his cape was very, very ruined. 

At times he even seemed to have a mouth, but his lips never opened. He did not speak, He remained silent, something calm, far too relaxed showing in his posture. 

When he had had a mouth for the first time, Jim had seriously waited for him to answer his question, to tell him something. But yeah, nothing changed at all. Absolutely nothing happened.

He was there and then he was gone. A single blink was enough to remove his presence from the whole place, but not to remove the feeling of being stared at very closely. Of being able to feel unseen eyes following him through every smallest movement, every step he took. And so Jim had no idea whether he was hallucinating or not. He shouldn't have been, technically. Not with such a little time having passed.

'...That is if a short period of time has passed. A day or two at most?' 

He had no clue. Not anymore. Hard to have one.

He knew that he had not stopped often, at least. 

Maybe.

Sometimes he had even counted the number of seconds. But maybe he had miscounted them without realizing it.

He had slept only once, of that he was sure. And it had been an exhausting, uncomfortable slumber, no matter how tired he had been. And before he succumbed to sleep he remembered wondering things to himself, dwelling on whether perhaps he should change direction or not.

He remembered finding it a good idea, but at the same time fearing that he would undo all the path he had traveled on. He would leave just before reaching the right location. The place where he would see a river or someone, someone who would perhaps have water to drink, and food to eat —he had not found anything to hunt around there, nor any herbs that appeared slightly edible instead of a one-way ticket to the Underworld—and that would therefore remove the feeling of a dry throat and the grumbling that his stomach, which jumped in from time to time. And that had driven him to pursue the same path he had been walking on so far.

But as far as he was concerned, what about the rest of it? It seemed that it had even been weeks. And simultaneously only seconds. The same amount of time in the blink of an eye that allowed the silhouette to appear and disappear as it suited him.

At times he almost expected him to appear, though not in a positive way. When he disappeared and didn't appear for too long—a mental calculation of his own, then maybe there was less of a time gap than it appeared to him—he wondered if he was gone permanently... and part of him would welcome it very willingly—because maybe he wasn't going crazy, maybe he wasn't seeing things anymore if it was a vision of some sort—while on the other side... he was beginning to wonder if that something that was keeping an eye on him really existed, an uneasy feeling taking hold of his stomach just at the thought. 

A ghost? Or else? Was it possible that it might be a magical creature that was having trouble appearing because in that place magic wasn't working properly?... Just thinking about it, it didn't seem like a bad hypothesis. 

And then, again following that line of thinking, there was the question of whether it was a good creature or a bad one that he would have to deal with. The latter seemed a more plausible option than the former. 

The blade of his—momentarily new, much less reassuring, much less familiar than the Daylight—sword was ready to be used against whatever strange thing it could be.

********

“It must have been very sad,” Nari found herself saying in a whisper, bringing to mind the Daolaogui's figure, its awkward pose, and lost gaze. It had reappeared behind her eyelids whether she wanted it to or not. 

The demi-goddess sensed Blinkous' eyes on her before she resumed speaking. “A creature born from the earth to predate reduced to a hollow soul shell.”

“Even predatory creatures like that need a pack,” Blinkous Galadrigal faintly remarked, returning to look ahead. “Loneliness and exile, no matter how much the environment is familiar with them, must have affected them severely.”

Nari frowned but found herself barely nodding in agreement. 

“Could I perhaps ask you if you had ever glimpsed a real specimen that closely, Miss. Nari?” asked Blinkous, his tone curious. 

“Only once, in the core of a mountain,” she asserted. “But I had no troubles with putting him to sleep, back in the day.”

The Troll gave a slight shake of his head. Remained silent for a bit, then talked again. “...I listened to stories of Daolaoguis since I was the size of a pebble like this,” he went to point to a small rock only a little away from his foot. The sight brought a small smile to Nari's face. “Adults used to enjoy frightening us with legends of the Cold Mountain Demons. Seeing one and surviving it was seen as legendary, an impossible ordeal...” he scratched his head. “Kind of like living in Paleolithic Australia, apparently,” he paused once again. “I must say that we were rather blessed with luck in this case.”

Nari nodded in agreement, again. He was more than right, yes, especially since Nari herself would not have been able to stop the creature as she had the first time, had it been entirely self-conscious and ready to strike. 

But one of her hands still skimmed over her elbow in slight nervousness, whether she wanted to do so or not. She did it by mentally reviewing, once again, its eyes. Yes, she didn't need anything else than those single dead pale purple irises.

She did so by suddenly comparing them to the ones that had been Bellroc's before they had put a village on fire, the villagers screaming constantly about monsters, monsters, and monsters to the wind as they condemned other magical creatures to death—and they burned them at the stake or hunted them down. Ruined them just for the sake of it—that had barely received life from the Earth, from the Gods. 

Bellroc's eyes had been almost apathetic at that point. Almost. But anger and hatred had filled them underneath. 

Nari could not help but wonder if her own eyes would become like the Daolaogui once Bellroc and Skrael were officially gone. If they would be like that until she met their next reincarnation. A reincarnation that would lead them to choose other names, to no longer be what they had been, to no longer see the world in the same way. One that would lead them to no longer be them. 

Just thinking about it made her feel a squeeze in the center of her chest.

She couldn’t stop asking herself if eventually she would have cried. Or if her essence would have refused to since it was something natural. Natural and inevitable to the point that she would simply absorb the entire emotion. After all, what would change from not having a Family, when they were no longer a Family at all? They weren’t the ones that she used to play with, the ones who reassured her when she needed it, the ones who gave affection without asking for anything.

She couldn't help but ask herself how she would react, really, but she didn't want to, so she focused on their surroundings. It was a small, helpful step forward that she forced herself to take. 

So, her gaze fell on the gallery for the umpteenth time. 

At that point, the road became very narrow and was almost entirely flooded by the river.

She and Blinkous were trying to avoid getting too close to it, especially since the ground around it seemed to be easy to break. It was like that to the point that occasionally rocks would fall into it, the sound of the impact echoing far and wide, even ringing in her ears. And so they remained close to the walls but continued to follow it carefully.

Nari focused on how the gallery itself seemed to open up into other small, subtle sections. Sections which in any case were much, much fewer than there had been previously, where they had appeared everywhere like mushrooms, even intertwining with each other, making that sort of underground labyrinth more difficult to navigate than it should have been. 

But no, this part of the cave was pretty simple. And rather calm. 

Some of these sections even seemed to have an almost immediate end, a single glance was enough to glimpse at it. And it always took a glance—or two at the most—to notice how, for the most part, the ones that were closed were all on one side, while the longer ones were on the opposite side. Across the river. 

This view made the hope of getting out of there fiery, almost explosive. It was so intense that it instilled a hint of impatience in their journey. Again. But despite this feeling, they still took short periods of rest when they needed it. They kept doing it to make sure they maintained their strength, to not get out and feel like they were never going to move again. 

“Do you miss those times, Mister Galadrigal?” She found herself asking—after a long period of silence—the words slipping from her lips almost too quickly, leaping over a small crack that traced the ground in front of them. 

The Troll, for a moment, seemed almost surprised by the question. 

“Sometimes yes,” he admitted. “In some respects, everything seemed much simpler.” His expression was slightly troubled before a half-smile broke through. “Little me would have never imagined becoming a Community Leader. And even now, even just the idea of it, it's like an odd-tasting sock, to be completely honest.”

“What does an odd-tasting sock taste like?” Nari tilted her head, blinking a few times. 

“Uh, well… How can I say it… Washed but with a tasty edge.” He raised and waved his hands a little. “As if it had been used, but not quite. Or maybe as if a Human had started to wash it, but hadn't completely managed to clean it. So you're left with the savoriness, but it's not as good as you'd expect it to be from the smell. And it leaves a bad taste in your mouth.”

Nari tilted her head even more, trying to take in fully the spoken words, dodging another crack in the ground, this time only by lengthening her stride. 

“Huh…” she let out, almost gutturally. A single line that should have been followed by a sentence, but was instead frozen in place—and dramatically removed, making her forget it—suddenly, by an intense shaking of the ground.

Dust and rocks started falling from above, and the cracks in the ground could only get bigger, more of them adding themselves everywhere. 

Panic struck them both and took their breath away, causing them to look swiftly at each other, before returning their eyes to the ground, following the gradual worsening of the situation without being able to say a word. 

Everything went too quickly. The rifts, their anxiety, their need to survive… 

They ran. They sprinted forward as quickly as they could, following the path and hoping harder and harder that the exit would show up for real. But the more they ran and the more the situation worsened, all the breaks on the ground became holes, some showing pitch-black darkness and a never ending fall.