Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

My name is Lucille Noceda.

You’d probably expect me to call myself a normal girl, but that would be a lie. Normal hasn’t been an option for a while, and from all the wonders and madness I’ve witnessed and been party to, it’s quite frankly overrated.

…and my therapist told me that recognizing that my experiences weren’t normal is an important step in growing past my upbringing.

But I’d prefer to leave such things in the past and a world away. In the present, I have one wild family though my Tia Camila. My cousins are god-like beings known as Titans and similarly fantastical beings; my aunt is in a relationship with three other people - two of whom are witches from another world and one of the aforementioned Titans; and here I am, just an ordinary human who happened to get tangled up in all this magic because they were my only sanctuary from my sperm donor, and I got to see firsthand how family loves and protects one another.

I also met my bisabuela , who’s been involved with her own side of the magic of our homeworld. She gifted me a ring from her jewelry collection, and in doing so inducted me into her slice of the wonder and madness lurking just out of sight.

Turns out, even before my uncle and Varo restored Earth’s Arcane Nexus, there were powerful magical beings present on Earth, fragments of the creation of the Universe, concepts given mind and form, but unseen to all but a few who through some quirk of genetics and magic could commune with and harness their power. These miracle gems, these…Miraculous, have been around for thousands of years, apparently, but most of them were destroyed by the very Order that had sworn to use them for good. My great-grandmother has spent the better part of her life restoring what those old fools ruined, and she gave one of the Miraculous she forged to me - The Bat Miraculous of Fluidity. Zovvu has been a great help explaining how to use their power, and there’s no rush quite like turning into a magical girl superhero. I even got to use those powers to help fight off demon pirates on our journey to the Lone Wing.

The Lone Wing…what a strange and interesting mess I’ve gotten involved in here. Luz’ oracle friend said my presence would be needed to avert catastrophe, and then when we met the extended family I overheard someone talking about portents of doom, and I can’t help but suspect they are connected.

Of course, some nebulous and presumably evil plot feels par for the course for what I’ve come to know for my family, so I’ve just gotta keep my ears out for trouble.

…Which is easier said than done when my heart is beating out a samba against my ribs around vampire nobility…who is already in a relationship.

Pull yourself together, Noceda. You can be a disaster lesbian after you at least get to know her first.

In the meantime, there’s extended family to get to know, dark plots to foil, and somewhere out there tea’s getting cold, so allons-y!

Lucille Noceda, signing off for now.

Jotting the last bit of punctuation, Lucille snapped her diary closed, and hopped down from the low wall she had been perched upon.

“You ready to head out, Luce?” Katya asked her as she tucked away her diary. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” the human shrugged, joining the bard as they left the small side-estate that had been afforded to the BATTs and Lucille as guests of the Whispers Clan.

Their residence overlooking much of Ariel’s Haven was evocative of a mediterranean villa, though with more shutters for dealing with the hostile weather of the Demon Realm, and hints of the teratomic style that came with living on a giant carcass, even if only part of one.

Thankfully, the eyes were merely carved or glass rather than functional organs. She was still getting used to that.

Lucille had seen many a fantasy world in her countless attempts to escape the reality of her upbringing, and Ariel’s Haven was unlike almost anything she’d seen or read. She could draw comparisons, but those would always fall short of capturing the strange, macabre majesty of the place. Meanwhile, the part of her that was now a magical girl superhero could only see how much potential there was for moving around the city, be it by gliding or parkour. Her old hometown had precious little architecture fit for free-running save for her sperm donor’s salvage yard, but the videos she’d seen online had enthralled her, and her powers had come with some nifty built-in instincts, which the battle with the Scyllan Scourge had brought to light.

Her mind was abuzz as they trekked down the footpath into the town proper, exploring the festive artisanal markets. Vendors were peddling their wares, and performers plying their crafts. One performer that caught her eye was a pink-hued demon dancer with six curved horns, short blonde hair, and vibrant blue eyes on a field of red, the flowing cloth of her outfit accentuating her moves as her dancing was punctuated with flasks of potions that surrounded her with pastel mists, her audience entranced. Even Lucille found herself swaying to the music before she moved on.

Descending the terraces, the markets gave way to the residential areas, wandering through a couple of scenic parks before finding a spot to sit down in the shade of a violet-leaved tree with a heavily gnarled trunk.

“Huh, never thought I’d see a living Arborgeist tree,” Katya ran a hand over the trunk before setting down on one of the exposed roots.

“Aborgeist?” Lucille questioned.

“On the Isles, bards used to carve instruments from Arborgeist wood, while Oracles used the pearls of resin made by the sap to harness their magic. Nowadays, it’s practically extinct on the Isles. But here, they’re dang near everywhere!” The dhampir bard gestured to the trees around them.

Lucille smiled at the enthusiasm, before leaning against the trunk, taking in the scenery, and closing her eyes to focus on the sounds of the park.

The sound of footsteps on grass got her attention.

“I was wondering if I would run into you again.”

The sun through the trees caught on Artemis’ dyed hair in such a way that her breath hitched.

“Some of mine and Tenuto’s friends wanted to meet in the park here, you want to hang out?” She extended a hand.

Lucille didn’t trust her voice, but she accepted the offer, to Katya’s sly smirk. Lucille shot a glare at the bard, who just gave a huff of a laugh before pulling out her notebook and flipping to an in-progress page.

Artemis led her deeper into the forest of the park, where the thick foliage cast the area into a perpetual dusk, a visible release of tension in the dhampir’s shoulders as she was in her element.

After what felt like ages, they arrived at a small clearing, where an occlusion of bone or rock had formed a ridge that the trees had grown around.

In the middle of the clearing, where the grass was sparsest, a duel was taking place. One combatant was a witch clad in a stylish blue hooded shirt, her skin a light tan and her hair a shaggy black with a white crown braid around her temples. Her sharp blue eyes were focused on her opponent expertly dodging the swings of her cloth-wrapped katana, flickering flames of black, white, and blue occasionally visible where the cloth shifted. Her opponent was a bipedal mouse demon in a blue dress who pirouetted about, spinning cyan spell circles with her tail as a shimmering afterimage followed her every move. Her mirthful green eyes shone as dozens of illusory copies of herself harried her opponent, vanishing into puffs of smoke on contact with her or her blade.

Perched on a root, Tenuto was occupying himself with a sewing project, while another witch in red and black with a distinctly wolfish countenance was cheering the duel on. 

The arrival of Artemis and Lucille brought the duel to a decisive end, as the mouse demon got the swordswitch to overextend herself, the illusionist landing on her back to knock her to the ground, cheering at her victory.

“Lucille, these are my friends--” Artemis introduced.

“--Cosette--” the mouse demon waved and curtseyed, the afterimages still following her.

“--Blice--” the bested swordswitch waved from the ground.

“--and Rumi--” the wolfish witch hopped up from her seat.

“So you’re the human Tenu and Arty were talkin’ about,” Rumi strode up, giving Lucille a firm handshake, which Lucille reciprocated.

“Ah, got some fire in you, not bad,” Rumi complimented.

A tower of cyan-tinged mice rose to stand at eye-level with her, as Cosette greeted her with curiosity.

“A human on the Lone Wing? How fascinating!” she chirped. “How did you get here? Do you like magic? I thought humans had dull eyes?”

“Are all illusionists this energetic?” Lucille glanced to the two she’d previously met.

“Only the prodigies,” Tenuto threw his voice.

“That tracks,” Lucille commented flatly, before answering the rodent’s questions. “Uh, by boat, sure, and what do you mean ‘dull eyes’? - Oh, you mean how human eyes don’t normally shine in jewel tones?”

“That’s one way to put it,” Tenuto offered.

“My cousin Luz says it has something to do with how humans didn’t have inherent magic, but that’ll probably change now that the Human Realm has a proper arcane nexus. Honestly, about half of what she said went right over my head,” Lucille shrugged. “Most of my knowledge of magic is how to use glyphs.”

“Really?” Rumi’s wolfish grin had grown. “Let’s see what you can do then!”

Regret flashed through Lucille’s eyes, but she swallowed her hesitation and met her fanged grin with her own.

“Alright, I see how it is,” she rolled her shoulders. 

Blice scrambled to the side of the clearing, taking a seat by Tenuto and leaning on her sheathed sword. Cosette hopped up onto her shoulder, while Artemis leaned back against a trunk, arms folded and eyes gleaming in the twilight.

Rumi’s tail swept behind her as she took a pounce-ready stance, while Lucille withdrew a hand of glyph cards from her pocket, fanning them out.

The half-Lycan charged, and Lucille dove to the side, dropping a darkness glyph to form a smokescreen. Even with the smokescreen, the fist thrown her way came within inches of her arm.

Rolling to a stop, Lucille hopped back to her feet, and cast off her jacket.

“Alright, human style it is,” Lucille met Rumi’s wolfish grin with her own.

Artemis’ posture shifted at the sight of Lucille’s bared arms, the faintest dusting of pink rising to her cheeks.

Seeing her opponent doff her jacket, Rumi similarly cast aside her scarf and the jacket she’d had tied around her waist. Now more appropriately dressed for the occasion, Rumi lunged, and Lucille once more evaded, this time countering with a jab below the ribs, earning a grunt from the half-Lycan.

A high kick went over Lucille’s ducking shoulders, and the human quickly exploited the opening to sweep her leg, leaving her to flail in the air for the split second before gravity asserted itself.

The half-Lycan’s crimson eyes were wide with surprise as Lucille stepped up and offered her a hand. Rumi gave her opponent a genuine grin.

“Ha! I was right about ya having some fire in you,” Rumi complimented as she rose. “And I thought humans were fragile.”

“Some of us have had to be tough,” Lucille replied, retrieving her jacket and reassuring herself with the small pat to her side from one of the inner pockets, while Rumi retrieved her own accessories from Blice.

“Well, Rumi approves, so it looks like you’re one of us now,” Artemis smirked, and a flutter went through the human’s chest.

Lucille smiled, taking a seat on one of the roots and basking in the warmth of having friends of her own again.

Chapter Text

Amber enjoyed flying.

Her stepmother had clipped her wings, burning the wounds shut with ectoplasmic fire to prevent healing magic from undoing her work - but thanks to her bond with Buho, she could feel the wind in her hair as she soared over the Boiling Sea around the Lone Wing, the Strigriff’s wings silent as they cut through the air.

When Buho hit his growth spurt from juvenile to subadult, he’d quickly proven too big for the Owl House to handle on top of the normal chaos. Amber had not hesitated to volunteer to care for the beast demon, winning him over with her music and bonding with him. 

It was almost dizzying how quickly things had turned around for her. In the three years she’d known Raine, she never could have imagined actually toppling Belos’ empire, much less that their motley crew would become something more than just a handful of rabble-rousing bards. Three years ago, her dreams of being a Beastkeeper had been dashed with the burn of the sigil glove, sealing her magic to only being able to cast bardic spells. Now that dream was alive, well, and real.

As Buho descended, Amber’s thoughts wandered mournfully to the last person outside her little family she’d made any sort of connection with. As utterly reprehensible as his work had been, the Potions Coven Lieutenant had struck a chord within her. She’d known what his magenta eyes had meant, and part of her hoped that he could have pulled away from Vitimir’s rancid shadow. But it was not to be, and it was a hollow comfort that his soul had been properly laid to rest.

Shaking the thoughts away, she turned her attention back to her surroundings.

Somehow in her meandering, she’d found herself on the northeastern half of the island, in the shade of the arching, long-ossified wing. The darkness of the cavern didn’t bother her, the eyesight bestowed by her heritage making the glowing lanterns, vines, and mushrooms all the more beautiful.

The cavernous space was held up by massive pillars of dark stone, most of them carved out into vast gothic cathedrals. They reminded her a little bit of the architecture of Fortress Saberclaw, but only in the barest resemblance. Many of the pillars were studded with massive glowing mushrooms, their frills swaying in the breeze, and coiled with equally glowing vines, which were also threaded around the railings of the stairs and balconies.

Surprisingly for the size of such a place, there weren’t that many people about. Her confusion lasted less than a minute before she figured that most of the people living the shade were likely also nocturnal. She knew her and Katya’s propensity to stay up all night occasionally had Derwin and Raine at their wits end (at least before Raine gained their Bat Beast and joined their side of the wonky circadian rhythms.)

Thankfully, her landing spot was a public plaza of some kind, and it wasn’t too difficult to find a map of the area. The large town was built like a fallen teardrop, with the main center labelled as a temple, the rest of the town sprawling outward from it against the wall of the cavern and the chasms in the ground.

A bark from Buho redirected Amber’s attention.

“First time in Umbranox?” she was asked, turning to the speaker.

He was a witch her age, with a distinctly gray pallor. His hands were a darker gray, the coloration running up in web-like veins, and his sharp nails were a dark metallic hue. Despite the intimidating features, his expression was friendly, his silvery-blue eyes gleaming past the heavy heavy eyeshadow he wore, his shaggy chin-length navy hair feeling the slightest bit familiar. His outfit was right out of a gothic novel, a loose black shirt with a deep v-neck, studded gray pants, brown leather boots that matched his skull-buckled belt, topped with a midnight-hued cloak lined with brighter blue.

“How’d you tell?” Amber questioned.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” the witch replied. “And I don’t think I’ve even seen a demon like this guy before.”

He offered a hand to Buho, who sniffed him before chirruping in cautious approval.

“Not that surprising,” Amber replied, scritching her companion’s feathers. “Strigriffs are apparently native to the Titan Graveyard far west of the Boiling Isles. This little guy was freed from a scroll, and when he got too big for his mama’s nest, we bonded.”

“Sounds like a story,” he commented, before shaking his head. “Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners? Marley Vernworth.”

Amber raised an eyebrow in recognition of the name, but reciprocated the introduction. “Amber Echmer,” they shook hands.

“So what brings you to this corner of the Wing?” Marley asked.

“Well, Raine brought us along for their family reunion, but had to head back to the Isles” Amber explained. “We stayed behind to keep up appearances and be all diplomatic, so I thought I’d go for a flight with Buho for some sightseeing, and here we are. So what is this place?”

Marley’s expression lit up. “Ah, I’m glad you asked! While Patagia’s Shade is the largest city on this side of the Lone Wing, Umbranox is arguably older, since the Temple of the Twilight Bloom was carved out thousands of years ago by the original priests, whose spirits remain there to this day.”

“Huh, neat,” Amber said belatedly. “The only people I know that are that old are Kosh, Varo, and Auncle Asteria…and Angella, can’t forget her.”

“I’ve heard rumors about someone named Kosh, but who are those others?” Marley inquired.

“Varo is from the stars, Angella’s from another planet but she’s part Titan, and Asteria is kinda…the Boiling Isles Titan, though I know her kids - Luz and King - better,” Amber counted off on her fingers.

“So the rumors about the Titans coming back were true?” Marley commented, astonishment painted across his face.

“Wild, isn’t it?” Amber smiled broadly. Marley smiled back, showing that he was missing a fang.

“Just what’s been happening on the Boiling Isles? I was only five when my family packed up and fled to the Wing, and we haven’t gotten a whole lot of news from the Isles, except that Belos got dethroned.”

Amber was happy to recap the tale of her involvement with the BATTs, CATTs, and eventual Alliance in taking down Belos and his cronies, while the two witches and Owl Beast wandered the town, occasionally pausing when the gothic witch pointed out a notable or interesting landmark. As she finished her tale, the conversation turned to Marley himself, confirming his last name was no coincidence.

“We don’t exactly talk about Cousin Adrian,” he said with a wince as he massaged the back of his neck. “Aunt Loretta’s been despondent as long as I can remember, even with mom trying to raise her spirits.”

Amber had to consciously hold herself back from humming the tune that came to mind, silently cursing out Luz - half-heartedly - for her insistence on showing the BATTs more Human Realm musicals.

Their journey led them in a spiral though the town, to the centerpiece of Umbranox. Carved from the ossified flesh of the Titan, the Temple of the Twilight Bloom was as much a work of art as it was a building, the tiers of the building splayed like the petals of a flower, a winding staircase weaving through like a scale-patterned vine up into a softly-glowing bulb of obsidian, three figures carved in relief into the smooth volcanic stone. Directly above, a hole in the membrane of the upper wing allowed a beam of light to shine down onto the structure, the shadows of the petals deepened by contrast.

“Woah, now that’s a temple,” Amber breathed in awe at the sight.

“Those are the keepers of the Temple, Lumen, Coleus, and Amaya,” Marley gestured to the carvings in the central gemstone.

“Huh, there’s something… oddly familiar about them,” Amber narrowed her gaze as she wracked her memory.

“Wanna go inside?” Marley offered.

Putting her line of inquire to the side, she nodded her agreement with a playful shrug.

Thanks to Buho, the climb wasn’t too arduous, the steps easily wide enough to accommodate the griffin-sized beast demon.

The inside of the temple was even more of a marvel, the high-vaulted ceilings decorated with ornate mosaics and intricate carvings, some of which reminded her of the architecture of Fortress Saberclaw.

Along the walls of the main chamber were three massive bas relief murals, the light shining through the gem up top cascading down to illuminate a deep pool of iridescent violet and green water, around which a number of pitch black wood pews were arranged.

Leaning over the pool was a wizened, rail-thin figure, gazing into the abyss.

“Ah, visitors - one familiar, one a stranger to these hallowed halls,” the priestess took notice of their presence without looking before turning to greet them properly. She was easily almost twice Amber’s height, the iridescent priestly dress she wore shimmering in the refracted lights. Her attire left her narrow arms bare, revealing the glyph circuits tattooed onto her pale lavender skin, a slight metallic sheen to the arcane artwork. A soft black mantle curled at the shoulders, drawing attention to her jade gouges and the conical headdress she wore. A pair of bat-like wings lay folded against her back, ruffling slightly as she moved. Her features were as sharp as the rest of her, a pearly gleam fading from her eyes to reveal a bright magenta as she approached the visitors. Around her neck hung three oracle pearls, one a dark violet, one a mossy green, and one a pale golden hue.

“Keeper Leptura,” Marley greeted.

“At ease, my student,” the keeper waved off. “Who’s your lady friend here?” There was a teasing note in her voice, and Amber noticed the way he blushed and looked off to the side. Regardless, she introduced herself and Buho, the woman’s grip deceptively strong.

“New arrivals on the Lone Wing, wreathed in blood of victory,” Keeper Leptura commented. Amber had interacted with enough of the Oracles in the Seekers to know when they were being metaphorical and portentious. “Before my scryings became clouded by these infernal briars, I foresaw the arrival of a Bat Witch on the Lone Wing, bringing with her the winds of change.”

“I’m not sure how much ‘change’ I can bring,” Amber replied, choosing courtesy and not telling the oracle how she and her friends and family didn’t put too much stock into visions, between their experiences with false prophecies, the inscrutable nature of seeing future events, and their knowledge of how scrying magic could be obstructed or misled, though the briar comment told her she may have had experience with the latter.

“Even the smallest flap of wings can set off a mighty storm, young one,” Keeper Leptura told her. “And while my vision lies choked by these cold, thorny briars, I know for a fact that a stranger’s arrival heralds great change, it always does.”

“Indeed,” a new voice spoke up, as dark mist welled from one of Keeper Leptura’s oracle peals, coalescing into the spectral image of the witch from the carvings - a beautiful woman in life, her dark hair in a waist-length braid crowned with a jeweled band that matched the belt cinching her purple robe.

“Greetings, Amber Echmer of Ilias,” the spirit smiled, and Amber’s pupils narrowed.

She could count on one hand the number of people who knew where she had been born and raised.

“Amaya,” Marley greeted familiarly. The spirit smiled back.

“Do give my thanks to the Titaness for liberating the glyphs of our patron Titan,” Amaya told Amber, conjuring Asteria’s Darkness Glyph between her hands.

“Our?” Amber questioned.

“She means us,” another voice sounded, with a feline drawl. The golden-hued oracle pearl glowed, the spirit bound to it manifesting. They were a distinctly cat-like figure, with a coat of short fur that was white in life with a matching wild mane, clad in gilded armor and wearing a cloak not too unlike that worn by Marley.

The third spirit to manifest gave Amber a double-take, as she realized why the carvings she’d seen had twigged her memory so. He was a little taller than her, with a distinctly botanical tunic and a leaf clasping his cloak, a crown of vines with wooden branch antlers on his head. One of his legs was replaced with a wooden prosthetic, which reflected even in death.

“You’re a Newt!” Amber exclaimed.

“What of it?” the spirit questioned.

“Oh, sorry, it’s just…Amphibia is one of the Isles’ allies now,” Amber said, more than a little sheepish.

“Cole?” the feline poked their companion, whose expression had become indecipherable.

“...Newtopia had no allies, only quislings and the conquered,” he finally said.

“If you mean that Core bastard, it’s very, very dead now,” Amber chirped. “The delegates from the Amphibia Council actually helped make the CATTs and Seekers the Arcane Alliance that brought down Belos and his Trapper allies. You know, you actually look a lot like Lady Olivia.”

Coleus froze, then flew into the pool, which shone brighter for a moment. Keeper Leptura stepped back and plunged a hand into the pool, her eyes glowing that pearly sheen. He reemerged with a splash, his eyes wide with bewilderment and a smile splitting his snout.

“Coleus, love? What did you see?” Amaya asked.

“My descendants still steward Amphibia, and have cast off the shackles of the foul Leviathans,” the Newt said, tearful with pride. His fellow spirits embraced him for several long, tender moments.

Turning to Amber, the feline spirit bowed. “Ah, sorry for my lack of decorum. Lumen of Half-Moon, former Royal Guard to Queen Angella the Radiant of Brightmoon, at your service.”

“Queen Angella?” Amber repeated. “She’s on the Isles too!”

The Magicat spirit was taken aback. “What manner of events has unfolded to bring Etheria and the Demon Realm together?”

“Luz fished her out of the In-Between, and it turns out she’s her aunt, give or take a few generations,” Amber explained.

Lumen was speechless.

“I think you broke them,” Marley stage-whispered to Amber.

“Sorry.”

“They’ll be alright, just give them some time to process this,” Amaya turned to them. “In the meantime, feel free to peruse the archives and gardens.”

The spirit waved them off, as they returned to their oracle pearls. Keeper Leptura staggered and took a deep breath, but waved off Marley starting to her side.

“One of the few downsides to the Guardian Spirit Pact - emotional backlash,” the wizened Oracle informed them, mostly directing her words to Marley.

“So you’ve said a few times,” the younger witch nodded, before leading Amber and Buho out of the cathedral chamber.

“Will she be alright?” Amber asked.

Marley shrugged. “Keeper Leptura prides herself on her independence. She’s been the keeper of the Temple for longer than my great uncle’s been alive. According to some of the older residents, she came to the Lone Wing from a distant Titan to the south, and found a crumpling temple that she restored to what we’re standing in.”

Amber whistled, impressed.

“There’s a few dozen acolytes, but for some reason she took me under her wing - uh, metaphorically, I mean,” Marley stammered as he remembered he was talking to someone with wings of her own.

Amber giggled at his earnest awkwardness.

Though the rustle of feathers in the rafters above did not go unnoticed to her chiropteran ears.

Chapter Text

Amber braced herself as she heard the flapping of feathered wings, her and Marley turning towards the source while Buho raised his wings defensively.

A blur of feathers swooped down, rushing to a stop right before Marley, who had a blush across his cheeks. 

The blur resolved into a figure - a harpy, judging by her wings, taloned feet, and avian profile. The deep, royal purple of her flight feathers was contrasted with the mint green of her eyes, jewelry, and the trim of her star-floret-patterned robe. A pale blue gem sat at her collar, faintly glowing with a wintry chill that reminded her of Raine. Her raven hair was done up in a high bun, the rest hanging past her chin and framing her pale, regal face.

“Hi Borika,” Marley greeted. The harpy giggled, and planted a kiss on his nose before stepping back and allowing him to catch his breath.

“So who’s your friend?” the harpy gestured to Amber.

“Borika, this is Amber, she’s from the Boiling Isles,” Marley introduced. “Amber, this is Borika, Harpy Princess of Winter.”

“Huh, I thought Princesses were an Etherian thing,” Amber commented. “Or at least, that’s what I heard about them from Angella.”

“It’s…a little complicated,” Marley told her. Amber figured that Lumen had probably told him a couple things about Etheria.

“My mother is the Queen-Protector of the Harpies here on the Lone Wing,” Borika explained. “My sisters and I each have magical affinities that correlate to the seasons, thus our titles.”

She waved on wing through the air, snowflakes and frost drifting in the wake of her feathers.

“So you have ice magic?” Amber commented.

“She’s also really good with shadow magic,” Marley added.

Borika blushed. “I dabble.”

She gathered a cloud of familiar dark mist between her wings, before dismissing it.

“Impressive,” Amber whistled.

“Though I’ve never seen a griffin like this before,” Borika turned her attention to Buho, whose wings had lowered from his defensive stance, though still hunched his shoulders territorially.

“It’s a long story,” Amber told her, while preening the feathers around his jaw to calm him down. “Calm down boy, she’s a friend, not a rival.”

“A lot of avian demons get…territorial,” Borika assured, narrowing her eyes in her own display of posturing until they seemed to reach an impasse.

“There’s a nice cafe not far from here where we can talk,” the harpy pointed a feather to a nearby pillar-structure. She proceeded to hop onto the railing, from which she took off into the air.

“She sometimes forgets we don’t all have wings, or Palismen,” Marley rolled his eyes fondly.

Amber climbed back onto Buho’s saffle, and offered him a hand.

The trail of airborne frost lead them to an open balcony connected to a loggia covering the outside of the pillar. Inside the covered level, numerous tables were laid out, and the smell of cooking pleasantly reached her nose, her stomach reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since a pastry-forward breakfast that morning.

While Buho tucked into a plate of about a dozen roast voles, Amber explained the whole story with the Strigriff and her unique adoptive family.

In return, Marley and Borika explained to her the situation with the Lone Wing, and the tangled web of clans that ran things in place of something like the Isles’ coven system.

The Whispers Clan, of which Raine was a member and thus their wards as well, were the highest authority on the Palm and surrounding areas. While the core of the clan was fairly small, Ariel’s Haven was the seat of their power, and Tempesta had forged solid alliances with most of the families, some more formal than others. 

Next to the Whispers in reach was the Berne Clan, who largely held dominion over the Upper Wing and the caverns beneath. Lady Sanguille Berne was the reigning matriarch, a queen in all but name over the vampires and nocturnal demons that called her half of the Lone Wing home. And due to her sheer longevity, most of the vampire clans had claims of blood relations with the Berne Clan, which did a lot to secure her clan’s uncontested legitimacy.

Any who did contest tended to get smacked down hard, usually drowning in blood that wasn’t their own.

Amber’s own experience with blood magic was limited to witnessing Katya’s Rondo of Blood and the now late lieutenant of the Healing Coven’s parasitic hemomancy, so hearing what the vampires of the Lone Wing could do was equal parts awe-inspiring and more than a little terrifying.

It made her wonder what other magic the witches of the Lone Wing had mastered that was unknown to the Isles. Even with the Seekers, so much had been lost, so much stifled from the roots. She’d only just begun to mix bardic and beast-keeping magic in any meaningful way.

The possibilities were dizzying.

Over steaming cups of tea - of which Amber’s was a strong herbal variety that she tailored to her taste with Raine’s sonic alchemy - the gothic witch and the harpy continued their explanation of the Lone Wing’s clans, at least of the more influential families, with Marley providing visual aids with his illusions.

His own family, the Vernworths, had managed to establish and ingratiate themselves as allies to the Whispers Clan, particularly with their involvement in the budding film industry, of which Marley and his siblings all had their preferred genres. His interest in horror was fairly easy to see, while his eldest brother Frank sought to adapt Human Realm science fiction to the audiences of the Demon Realm, with variable success.

Amber knew that Raine would probably be interested, as would Asteria and Mama Camila.

Voicing that thought made him smile.

“Then there’s my big sister Scarlett, she’s a romantic at heart, but quite the webspinner when it comes to her plots,” Marley explained animatedly, taking a sip of his own tea.

“Most of the Vernworths have either Drider or Cait Sith traits,” Borika bluntly explained.

Amber blinked. “How does that…”

Marley shrugged. “One of our dad’s ancestors was a Drider Matriarch, and our mom’s a Cait Sith. Frank and my little sisters take more after her. Christine loves her musicals, and she’s probably the best dancer on the Wing. She’s even directed a couple shows. Then there’s my baby sister Sakura, she loves the animation that’s washed up from the Human Realm. She’s only eight, but she’s already found a gift for healing magic.”

“Uh, you have a star on your shoulder,” Borika pointed at Amber’s arm, where a cyan star-shaped sticker had appeared.

In a puff of smoke, Varo appeared, ducking under the table as King chased him through a shadow portal.

Marley and Borika blinked, befuddled, while Amber sighed.

“Portal tag,” she explained succinctly. “One of their games.”

“Was that a Titan!?” Marley realized.

Amber nodded. “And I thought I was energetic.”

“Does that happen often?” Borika’s eyebrow raised in fascination.

“Less often than you might think,” Amber shrugged as she took a sip of her tea, whistling to warm it back up. “And this tea is surprisingly calming.”

“It’s a fairly popular blend for more nocturnal demons,” the harpy princess told her. “Though the ingredients only grow in the chasm surrounding Umbranox, so it’s something of a local favorite. My sister Zephyra says it helps her focus, though I prefer the magnolia blossom tea.”

While they talked over tea, Buho finished his meal and set his head on Amber’s lap, a sound somewhere between a purr and a trill rumbling in his throat as he headbutted his witch. Amber’s free hand was taken up with preening the feathers around his face while Borika explained her own family’s history - how her mother Aviana had been part of the first generation of harpies hatched on the Lone Wing. The harpies of the Isles were a reclusive lot, in Amber’s experience, sticking to the fringes of the Isles like the Fingers and Wingtips.

The image woven for her by Borika explained why Robin had been so evasive when it came to their life before joining the BATTs, and nearly extinguished her appetite. It reminded her of some of the horror stories perpetuated about the Savage Ages, only without the veneer of embellishment for the sake of propaganda.

“Her own mother!?” Amber exclaimed. “Good grief, and I thought my stepmother was bad. What kind of…” She could not find an appropriate word. “...to force her own daughter to commit matricide….”

“Which is why Mom is so keen to end that cycle with us, even if it does get smothering sometimes,” Borika solemnly concluded. “And even if Notalia can get…overzealous about protecting us.”

“I’ve still got the scar from her ‘shovel talk’,” Marley added. “No offense, but your sister terrifies me sometimes.”

Amber blinked. “Oh, so are you two…together?”

The witch and the harpy gave each other a look. “It’s…complicated.”

Buho let out a trill that matched his witch’s moment of understanding. “Ah, you snuck out to see him, didn’t you?”

Borika gave their surroundings a quick survey, before shushing her with a pointed feather. “Not so loud, please.”

Amber mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key.

“And I didn’t sneak out just to see Marley. Our friend Kim tends to come here when she needs to get away from her family.”

Buho abruptly shot up, his head swiveling to fix his beady eyes on the figure who had just arrived.

Amber knew she was short for her age, the shortest of the BATTs, but the slip of a girl before her had an air of trying to be as small as possible, not just in the hunch of her shoulders, but like her presence was withdrawn. Her vampiric heritage was clear, between the blood red eyes peering through ruby-rimmed glasses, the prominent fangs poking from her lips, and her complexion - which was paler than the Owl Lady’s. Her outfit was a knee-length black velvet dress trimmed with blood red paired with paler pink ankle boots. Her silvery hair was done up in pigtails like folded-over rabbit ears, and Amber was struck by the haunted look in her eyes, the same sort of look she’d seen on her bad days. She was struck with the feeling that this girl needed to be bundled up and protected, which stunned her to be on the other side of.

She still remembered fondly how Mama Camila had acted when they’d first met, and how Katya and Derwin had held her tight after her rescue from the Latissa Precinct.

Buho, on the other hand, looked to be one wrong move away from another threat display. 

“Buho, calm,” Amber stared pointedly, pressing her fingers to a spot below his jaw and humming a calming tune. The strigriff slowly backed down, but his gaze remained firmly fixed on the vampire, whose shoulders had also relaxed slightly.

Marley summoned an extra chair for the newcomer, as well as a cup of floral-smelling tea. Amber noticed the vampire pull out a flask, and pour a few drops of the contents into her drink.

The distinct medley of goldwort, garlic, and briarheart greeted her nose. She thought most vampires were allergic to goldwort, but she showed no adverse reaction beyond a brief shudder before the tension left her posture.

“Amber, this is our friend Kim,” Borika introduced the vampire, who waved meekly.

“Kimeris Soma,” she held out a hand gingerly, which Amber shook. “Everyone just calls me Kim, though.”

Amber nodded and introduced herself, and the conversation continued until their teas were gone.

Leaving the cafe, Marley led the group to a winding path up the wall of the cavern, to a natural terrace overlooking much of Umbranox and the surrounding areas.

The hollow in the rock was studded with glowing formations of crystals that illuminated the area in a breathtaking kaleidoscope of blues and purples.

“Woah, that is a view,” Amber stared, resting her arms on a railing-like outcropping.

“It’s a nice spot to spend some time away from the crowds,” Marley commented. Kim looked much more relaxed, like the light of the crystals was soothing whatever was weighing on her.

“You’re a bard, right?” Kim asked Amber.

“Not just a bard, but most of my magic is still in music,” she shrugged. “You want a performance?”

She was met with three nods.

Hopping onto a short pillar for a seat, Amber whipped out her flute and began to play, allowing the long-held knot within her chest to unravel through her music. She had on a few occasions been able to get away and play her music by herself, but having an audience who was receptive to her music and captivated by it was a different experience.

Growing up in the blasted heath of the West Iliac Valley, Amber hadn’t had much in the way of true friends beyond the dhampir bard a year or so her senior who had taken her under her wing at St Epiderm. For all her chipper attitude and overflowing energy, she could not avoid the pitying looks about her clipped wings, nor the whispered rumors about her parentage that her stepmom must have spread to make her life hell for her own sick ego trip.

But here, she had found peers on her own who had welcomed her with open arms, who accepted her, scars and all.

The melody of her song changed, gaining a new lilt to the notes as the unwinding sorrow gave way to jubilation, the horrors of her past displaced by the hope of a brighter morning.

Around her, the aura of her music filled the hollow, the crystals pulsing to the rhythm like a dozen hearts beating in sync, warping the sound that resonated through them to form an orchestral accompaniment, to the stunned awe of her audience.

As her performance petered off, she was met with resounding applause, wiping the tears from her eyes with a smile.

Chapter Text

Sunset on the Lone Wing was an experience, especially when viewed from the high point on the Palm that was Tenuto’s lookout tower hideaway. The light spilled through the Claws, the towers studding the landscape casting long shadowed over the golden plain. 

It had been less than a week since her arrival on the Lone Wing, but it felt both so much longer and like no time had passed at all for the human. The most notable event aside from the time spent hanging out with her new friends was her mad scramble to find and send a gift for her cousin’s quinceañera. The less said about how all six of them got covered head-to-toe in feathers and abomination slime, the better. Lucille was still finding glitter in places glitter should not have been able to get in.

Lucille leaned against the railing, taking in the view as the wind whipped at her hair. Then she made the mistake of glancing over, and her breath caught in her throat. Artemis stood at her side, arms resting folded on the railing, the light catching her hair like an aurora.

“Beautiful,” Lucille whispered. Artemis’ ear twitched.

“You say something?” Artemis smiled, and Lucille froze.

“N-nothing, just, the sunset is beautiful,” she stammered.

The dhampir gave her a knowing smirk. “It really is. Never gets old, no matter how many times you see it.”

“Do you come up here often to watch the sunset?” Lucille asked. 

Artemis nodded. “Our parents want us - Tenuto and I - to spend as much time together as possible; part of our courtship arrangement, though papa’s been having second thoughts lately.”

“I overheard him talking with Caduceia the other day about wanting to call your courtship off,” Lucille admitted.

“Did he say why?” her interest was piqued.

“Just that your ancestors were foretelling ‘catastrophe’,” Lucille pursed her lips in thought. “I’m still new to a lot of the finer details of magic, but it didn’t sound good.”

“It sometimes feels like a catastrophe just waiting to happen,” Artemis turned back to the vista. “Don’t get me wrong, Tenuto is a fine witch, and a good friend; but for all his passions it is clear to me that I’m not one of them. He can perform the motions of romance, but I can see the discomfort in his countenance at the thought of genuine intimacy.”

“Let me guess, every time he brings it up with his mother she shuts him down,”  Lucille looked towards the sky. 

“How did you know?” Astermis blinked in surprise.

“Different realms, same awful story - parents acting like their children are their property to control,” Lucille hung her head with a weighty sigh.

“It certainly feels that way, with how much the Clans play matchmaker,” Artemis herself sighed. “Mind you, it’s kept us from tearing each other apart so far, and they try to make sure the relationships will work, but it’s still…”

“Aggravating having your autonomy trampled on?” Lucille proposed.

She nodded.

“And it’s infuriating how everyone can see that he’s not interested, except for Lady Caduceia. Titan below, it’s like the only thing that woman cares about is having biological grandchildren to call her own,” Artemis ranted animatedly, a fire lit in her heart as her volume rose. “I get that your husband died, but that’s no excuse for treating your son like he has to ‘carry on his legacy’ with me just because he died saving my worthless life!”

The exclamation echoed faintly from the sheer force of her vitriol.

“Do you really think your life is worthless?”

Tenuto stood in the doorway, his eyes wide.

Artemis froze, as though she’d just realized what she had shouted.

With a sigh, she hesitantly met his gaze.

“Sometimes, yes. I mean, what do I have going for me, compared to the rest of my family?” she started pacing. “Adair is leagues more talented with blood magic, Richter is an unmatched gunslinger, and Vincent is only twelve and the most powerful illusionist I know next to Cosette. Compared to them, I’m nothing special - I don’t even have the family knack for Darkness Magic.”

She tapped the jewel on her chest. “I’ve got this blood gem to help focus and amplify my power, but that’s about it, and even then my cousin Kim is a better bloodwitch when it comes to the more esoteric spellcraft.”

“You are special, Art,” Tenuto told her, patting her bicep. “You’re my best friend, and one of the greatest witches I know.” 

“He’s right,” Lucille spoke up. “I know we haven’t known each other very long, but you are one of a kind, Artemis. And I’m glad to know such an exceptionally cool girl.”

Taking initiative, Lucille rested her hand over Artemis’ on the railing, and smiled softly. The dhampir’s golden eyes went wide, a crimson blush staining her cheeks as they locked eyes.

From where Tenuto stood, the framing of the two was picturesque, the sun setting right between them, a shining spark piercing the clouds.

Peering from the doorway, Cosette committed the image to memory, as did Rumi and Blice, who were unsubtly trying to stay out of sight while spying on their friends.

“Oh, those two have it bad for each other,” Rumi whispered with a smile. 

“As if you’re any better, Ru,” Blice jabbed the lycan on the forehead playfully. Their precarious spying stack collapsed, sending the three of them tumbling to the floor with a moment-breaking thud and the puff of cyan smoke from Cosette’s illusory doubles being dispelled and just as quickly respawning.

“Really girls?” Artemis glared, though there was no real heat to it. Tenuto just shook his head with a soft chuckle at their antics, earning a snort of amusement from Lucille as she caught on.

It was certainly tamer than the sorts of things the people she had once long ago called friends had gotten up to.

…The less she thought about those toxic jerkwads, the better for her mental health. In the meantime, she joined in the mirth of the group gathered on the balcony, trying not to focus too much on the way her heart fluttered when Artemis smiled.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the golden fields were lit by the flickering stars of countless lightning bugs, as though reflecting the emerging stars above.

The sound of strumming strings got their attention, and Lucille noticed Tenuto having pulled out a finely-crafted red-lacquered lute which he began to play. 

A wave of telekinesis swept out, clearing much of the floor and throwing the shutters open. Rumi eagerly pulled Blice back up to her feet, and pulled her into a dance.

“May I have this dance?” Artemis offered a hand of her own.

Lucille blushed crimson, and allowed herself to be led through the initial motions, until she could get a sense for the moves and fall into the rhythm.

And then Tenuto began to sing.

They quickly became lost in the music, in the motion around each other.

“...Tuning out of the poison…” he sang. “Every waking day, intolerance to overcome…”

Artemis led her through the sweeping movements.

“...you are my liberty -- I celebrate the day that you changed my history of…”

Lucille was pulled close into a spin and flung out, tethered only by their clasping hands.

“...But you have the answers, and I have the key…”

Somehow, Lucille did not lose her footing, even as she lost herself in her dance partner’s golden gaze and gleaming smile.

Lucille did not know enough about dance to classify what they were performing, but it didn’t matter in the moment. It was only the dancers and the music guiding them, and that was enough.

The first song tapered off, a new melody both unrecognizable and intimately familiar beginning to play in its place.

Drawn out to the balcony, in the same spot they have been watching the sunset, their sweeping movements slowed into a gentle waltz, as Artemis pulled her tight, and their lips met for the briefest of moments under the watchful moon and twinkling stars.

Inside, Tenuto smiled as he strummed his lute, hearing the melodies no one else could hear aligning into a vibrant symphony, to which he gave voice through the plucked strings that extinguished the lamps in favor of so many tiny witchlights that lit up the world around them like the fireflies and stars outside.

Chapter Text

The grassy ground was hard on his back as he rolled into a spring-tense crouch, a verdant glare leveled at the one who threw him. Ordinarily, he would throw a quip at his opponent, trying to distract his foe with the witty wordplay that came so easily to him.

He made no such quips this time, the only thoughts running through his head an arctic fury at the villain before him, his normal purple suit and cowl dyed crimson by the stolen earrings he had donned. Their proper holder was across the park, the sounds of her furious duel with his teammate reaching his ears.

The villain said something, and the fury condensed, the cold thrum of power within his veins drowning out his monologue as he charged, sweeping up his baton and raining a hail of lightning-fast jabs against the taller duelist, who deflected with his cane and retaliated with a clubbed strike that cratered the ground beneath his landing.

A boot pressed to his stomach as the villain leaned down, reaching for the ring on his right hand.

Verdant eyes narrowed, metal flowing like water into his hand, solidifying into a hooked blade.

A yowled incantation set a crackle of void-black along the cutting edge, a whip-fast swing parting the protective barrier of the magical suit and severing three of the villain’s fingers, the wounds smoking as the entropic energy took root in his veins.

The villain reeled back, clutching his wounded hand and dropping his weapon.

Another incantation, shorter and sharper, and his form exploded into a sea of chittering bats, rushing to envelop the villain, who lost his crimson hue as the spotted earrings were yanked away and carried off by the swarm, which reformed behind him. The thrum of power redoubled, the small red being appearing now that her power wasn’t being directly invoked.

A cry of agony reached his ears, and he turned to the source, eyes going wide as a scream of unrelenting, soul-sundering anguish tore from his throat.

Lucille shot up in bed, heart hammering in her chest, her gaze darting around frantically before she realized it was just a dream.

“Mon Dieu that was a nightmare,” she muttered, before blinking at what she had just said. “And why was I thinking in French?” She turned to the small bat-like being hovering near her.

“How fascinating,” Zovvu flitted around her head as she explained her dream. “Usually it takes a couple years and a kwagatama to be able to communicate with past Holders, but it seems you were able to tap into my own memories in your sleep. You really are just full of surprises, my friend.”

“What happened there, then?” Lucille questioned.

“My power was needed, Lucille. Before the Sage gave my Miraculous to you, she had myself and Liiri unify with Plagg and Pollen’s holders to save their friends from Nooroo’s dark master and a foul abomination.

“Did they?” Lucille asked, recalling with dread the sheer anguish that had knocked her back to consciousness.

“It took a true Miracle, but they did,” Zovvu nodded, before flitting through her backpack and emerging with a fig that they helped themself to. “I even helped Plagg’s Holder unlock a more beneficial aspect of Destruction to preserve her team’s identities.”

“Huh, neat,” Lucille commented, before throwing off the covers and clambering out of bed, her companion still hovering about with a sense of hesitancy.

“Though dreams of Holders can be…prophetic, if filtered through memory and metaphor,” Zovvu added.

“Oh, great, so that’s a thing,” Lucille slowly rubbed the sleep from her eyes while grasping blindly for her bathrobe. Zovvu finished their snack and pressed the garment into her hand, to her muttered thanks as she put the nightwear over the tube top and bike shorts that made up her normal sleepwear.

Stepping out onto her balcony, Lucille took a deep breath of the early morning air, leaning against the masonry of the railing as she pulled out her journal, jotting down as much as she could remember of her dream.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Someone asked behind her. Lucille jumped, her journal falling from her hand, and she scrambled to catch it before it went over the edge. A rubedo aura caught the diary, returning it to her hands.

“Sorry to startle you,” Derwin apologized. “Normally Amber is the one up at this hour, but she’s been a surprisingly sound sleeper these past few days.”

“The nights are surprisingly peaceful here,” Lucille noted, tucking away her journal.

The howling of a pack of lotus wolves pierced the night. Derwin gave a brief start, while Lucille just smiled at the demons in their natural habitat.

“Tia Camila has a soft spot for wolves,” she remembered wistfully. “It runs in the family, apparently, at least those worth a damn.”

Derwin gave a snort. “I heard bits and pieces about how you ended up coming to the Demon Realm. Family trouble?”

“My ‘father’ was a mean hijo de perra, and I’m glad to be rid of him. Here, I’ve got a new start, new friends who accept me for who I am…”

“Someone who’s more than a friend?” Derwin teased, causing Lucille to splutter.

“Who told you!?” she snapped.

“Katya is pretty good at reading people when it comes to romance,” he told her.

Lucille turned back to the view from the balcony, grumbling about the dhampir bard, to the older bard’s amusement.

“So what have you been up to here on the Wing?” Lucille asked.

Derwin groaned. “Politicking with the Whispers Clan. I used to run most of the logistics for the BATTs, so I’m dealing with Raine’s family about setting up trade with the Boiling Isles - when they aren’t doting on me for being one of Raine’s wards.”

The bard conjured a cup of something pleasantly steaming, taking a sip.

“And I’ve also been looking around town if anyone could find out anything about this,” he pulled out a pocket watch.

“You think you might find your birth parents here?” Lucille asked.

“Or at least someone capable of psychometry to figure out where I came from.”

Lucille paused in thought. “That does make a little more sense, honestly. Any luck?”

“Nope,” he answered succinctly. “Even what records the Seekers had implied object psychometry was a rare skill, even before Belos. I guess it’s mostly wishful thinking.”

“I wish you the best of luck then,” Lucille told him, taking one last deep breath of the bracing night air before heading back inside.

Zovvu flitted from her pocket to nestle in the crook of her neck, and she drifted back to sleep.

It was a big day tomorrow.

The landscape passed by the windows in a blur, Lucille sitting mesmerized by the alien terrain - the red grass and sky-piercing bones yet to lose their novelty, and the smoothness of the ride feeling much better than the buses she had taken to reach her safe haven in the Human Realm.

The train itself had a distinctly steampunk aesthetic of polished brass, contrasted with what she had come to recognize as abomatech, the purple slime taking the place of water in a steam engine - though more self-contained. More importantly for Lucille, the interior was clean and the seats were comfortable, the cushions a rich maroon that contrasted nicely with the brass fittings.

Across from her sat Tenuto, who gave her a knowing look to the fact that Artemis was sitting next to her, her head resting on the human’s shoulder. Tenuto took a sip from his glass of apple blood, and Lucille sank back into her own seat, mindful of the mint-dyed girl napping as she closed her own eyes, relaxing into the ride.

So why was there a buzzing sense of dread in the back of her head?

The piercing shriek that echoed outside answered that question.

Artemis startled awake, blushing as she realized whose she had been using as a pillow, before throwing herself to stare out the window.

“Harpy Bandits, and they’ve got Goliath Lancer Moths,” she hissed.

There was a strangled scream as someone was thrown off the train.

“And there goes the guard,” Tenuto’s eyes were hooded as he downed the rest of his apple blood and summoned his Palisman.

A stinger more akin to a giant’s rapier drove through the ceiling, peeling the metal back like a tin of sardines. The culprit certainly qualified for the name ‘Goliath Lancer Moth’, the massive purple lepidopteran bearing compound green eyes with a trio of needle-like probosci, and a stinger comparable to a knight’s lance, only curved and forged of chitin. The rider was a wingless harpy, dirty white feathers lining his arms that ended in rending talons, with blood-red warpaint highlighting a number of scars, the bird-man clad only in a pair of roughspun breeches.

“Hand over your valuables, and no one gets hurt…much,” the bandit had a cruel glint in his sulfur-yellow eyes.

“Or you and your gang leave with what’s left of your pride intact,” Tenuto stood defiant.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” The vanguard’s expression was somewhere between a sneer and a smirk.

Lucille palmed a hand of glyph cards, muttering to herself. “Should’ve known things were going too smoothly.”

A cloud of chilling mist billowed from the cabin, sending the Goliath Lancer flapping away frantically to keep the frost from hardening on its wings. The bandit was equally frantic in trying to regain control of his mount, buying the trio time to climb onto the roof as the rest of the flying bandits circled.

Artemis shifted her hands into sharpened claws of blood magic, a thorny whip of crimson snapping into being.

From behind, another Goliath Lancer swooped down, barreling into the perceived weak link - the human.

“Lucille!” Artemis and Tenuto shouted as she sailed off the roof towards the unforgiving rocky ground below.

“Zovvu, Take Flight! Swarm!”

A cloud of midnight purple bats rushed back up, blinding the offending moth and rider until one went soaring and the other slammed into an outcropping of bone.

“What the-” the vanguard stared, his bewilderment costing him as Artemis’ blood whip cracked into his spine, where the scars of his wing joints had never healed right. The bandit’s back lit up with agony, and he tumbled from his mount, which swooped down to catch him and thus being out of the fight for a moment.

The single-minded swarm continued to dominate the air, sending the Goliath Lancers into a frenzy that left their riders distracted, as the train continued to trundle along the track. Tenuto and Artemis fought back-to-back, deflecting the spells and bolos sent their way, and retaliating with blood and sound.

One of the bandits, the apparent leader, landed on the roof of the car as his mount fled. He was the only one of the harpies to still have his wings, though many of his feathers were cracked or clipped, and his chest plumage was a dyed crimson that matched his beady eyes. Upon his forehead an eclipse sigil had been branded - a mark of exile. He also carried a wicked-looking polearm, the spiked head dropping to hang from a barbed chain.

The leader yanked off a pair of his flight feathers, casting them into the air where they shimmered and burst into a pair of identical copies, which charged the duo as the swarm of bats gathered on the roof and resolved in a flash of violet into a winded Lucille, who wasted no time in throwing a fire glyph at the avian trio.

A swing of his flail dispelled the fireball, as another harpy landed and knocked the human off her feet again, this time planting a taloned foot on her back.

“Don’t move, or the human gets it!” the bandit crowed, pointing her spear dangerously close to Lucille’s face.

Artemis and Tenuto stood frozen, fangs bared, mentally trying to judge whether to risk their friend’s safety.

The crack of a gunshot took that choice from them, as the hostage-taker stared blankly, blood dripping from her forehead as gravity took hold of her now dead weight, the harpy rolling off the roof and into the ravine below.

Atop the train stood a midnight blue horse, bat-like wings held aloft, with burning crimson eyes and tongues of flame flickering from his nostrils. The rider was even more intimidating - a tall dhampir with cloven hooves for feet, straw-blond hair that stuck out beneath his jet-black stetson, a dagger-sharp mustache, and an eyepatch over one eye, the other a gleaming crimson to match his steed, and complement the blood-red duster he wore. He carried a metallic red revolver, as though blood had been forged into metal and then into a cowboy’s sidepiece.

The pale rider and his infernal steed clopped forward, giving the prone human a derisive sneer, before focusing on those still standing.

“Still needing your big brother to pull your fat outta the fire, eh, Tessie,” he scoffed.

Artemis leveled an annoyed glare at him. “I had it handled.”

“Tsk, sure you did,” he rolled his eye, before his gun flashed up and a half a dozen more cracks rang out, leaving a half-dozen Goliath Lancers falling without their riders.

The bandit leader and his copies charged, two of them receiving one shot each, which left two broken, bloodstained feathers to be carried off by the wind. The original leapt for him, only for the man’s steed to rear up and bring both front hooves down on the harpy’s chest, the ugly sound of internally-shattering bone filling the air, followed by a roar of choking agony. 

 The pale rider was quick to end his misery.

Lucille leaned over the edge of the roof and lost her lunch.

The pale rider scoffed as Artemis darted to the human’s side, Tenuto joining with a healing spell on his fingertips.

“Didn’t realize humans were so fragile,” the gunslinger derided.

“Richtor,” Tenuto glared.

“Newt,” he scoffed back. Tenuto rolled his eyes, and went back to tending to Lucille, helping carry her back into the cabin.

The train continued on, the few remaining bandits choosing to cut their losses.

While Artemis and Richtor had a discussion as siblings, no one noticed Lucille’s jacket shift from purple back to green with a mutter.

As she slipped her companion a couple of figs, she stared out the window to the rapidly-approaching shadow beneath the wing, the lights of Patagia’s Shade twinkling in their perpetual twilight.