Chapter Text
Luz ran.
Her steps thundered throughout the confines of the wilderness that encompassed her being like a feral cage, every gallop a bellowing roar between earth and creature. She stepped on a twig, spalling it in half, then cursed under her breath. She jumped over a fallen tree, then another one not too far off. Yesterday’s storm hadn’t been at all merciful. The puddles of muddied water remained deadly still, stagnant as ever. She spotted the occasional ripple from a falling leaf. A splash could be heard behind her, accompanied by the booming sound of frenzied, manic breathing. Luz quickened her pace, not at all deterred by this development. Elusion and wits were the perfect combination for a budding rebel, the crux of the matter. She jumped over a particularly sizable rock with a ‘hup!’ and continued her sprint. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to run faster, act smarter. The steps behind her grew closer and closer before halting, then ebbing into a dull, peaceful nothingness.
The sudden change made her come to a standstill. Tranquility followed—the lulling, serene, suspicious tranquility. Luz could hear the ruffle of leaves shuddering under the cold weather. She, for a fleeting moment, allowed herself the privilege of relaxing. It lasted for a second, and nothing more.
She was tackled.
“Aahh!”
“Ha! Gotcha!”
Luz struggled against the beast’s hold, tumbling over herself like a stuck cat. It was more difficult than she’d expected. He was grabby, fingers seizing her hair and tugging with wild abandon. It hurt like hell.
“Ow, ow, ow! King, let go! My hair!”
“Oh, my bad.”
King jumped off, landing on all fours. Luz pawed at her scalp in soothing, circular motions, hoping to assuage the pain caused by the clawing. “The king of demons once again reigns victorious! The forest trembles under my extraordinary genius!”
Luz smiled fondly.
“Yeah,” she said, arms hanging limp, “you won, buddy.”
There was a brief interlude, dangling between them like a noose. King hesitated for a moment.
“Luz.”
“Yeah?”
“Your scent.”
“My scent?”
“Blueberries. You don’t smell like the forest. You smell like blueberries.”
“Well, what was I supposed to do, King, rub mud on my face?” A pause, not at all discomfiting. Luz placed a hand under her chin, seemingly contemplative. “Hmm, come to think of it, that’s not a bad idea. Maybe next time.”
King looked smug, kicking a rock to his side.
“No need to thank me.”
“Heh,” Luz chuckled, a hand going to her lips, “thank you, King.”
Her gaze proceeded to drift up and up still, towards the heavens looming above their heads like a pouncing shadow, just barely concealed behind the thick crowns swaying with the twirling draught. The sun’s bleeding cascade unfurled beyond the skies stretched out throughout infinity, far beyond the Boiling Isles’ range, having reached its zenith with shining resplendence beyond belief, words failing to perfectly capture the glory displayed. Luz narrowed her eyes, the refulgence both physically and metaphorically smoldering. Through her knowledge accumulated from years of personal experience, she knew the forest would darken soon. And, though that was when the real fun would begin, her parents wouldn’t be quite as thrilled. They never were.
“We should probably head back before it gets dark.”
King’s expression fell. “Aw, c’mon,” he said, hopeful, “can’t we play one last game?”
“I dunno, King…”
“I’ll let you be ‘it’ this time.”
“Deal.”
Surely one more round couldn’t hurt.
Luz gingerly placed one knee down, both hands touching the ground, and waited for King’s turn—patience being her prerogative. Once he was a good few feet away from her, almost disappearing from within view, running as far as his tiny legs would allow him as well as neatly concealed between the luxuriant bushes and flitting shadows, she sprinted.
Giving chase to King was much easier an affair than being silently tailed by him would ever be. Cunning, wily, a fast learner, even if a tad egocentric about it, he’d long learned to utilize the forest and its landscape to their full potential and, more importantly, how to spin this knowledge to his advantage. There were no powers involved; nothing more than one’s wits and judgement would be employed. Luz wouldn’t use it either way. Fair’s fair. She stepped over another twig, splintering it in three parts under her boot, but refrained from cursing this time. For once in her life, she was the hunter instead of the hunted, and that was much, much more fun. Tightening her tempo, Luz quickly closed the space between herself and King, simultaneously giving him some leeway so the round wouldn’t be promptly ended. The pursuit was thrilling—invigorating, one could say. King, catching on, proceeded to move in a zigzag pattern, like a frantic, cornered gazelle. Luz humored him. It wouldn’t hurt. She slowed down. King did the opposite. Their steps reverberated throughout the forest in synchrony, a rhythm untold, one unit amidst a thousand.
A third melody was added.
Luz stopped.
“Hey,” King said, noticing her hesitance and halting himself, “why’d you stop? You’re supposed to keep runni—”
“Ssshhh.”
The steps intensified, the sound of boots crunching gravel. A chill slithered down Luz’s spine, like a centipede of dread.
“You hear that?”
King, for a fleeting moment, closed his eyes and focused. “I—”
Wasting no time with frivolities or half-baked sentences, Luz snatched her brother from his place on the ground and hauled them both towards the nearest witch-sized bush, diving in. At that exact moment, and not a minute less, a Coven Guard stepped out from behind a twisted tree, spine ramrod straight and hands behind his back, his posture impeccable, critical eyes rounding the area for any possible victims to hound.
The steps grew closer.
Luz shook.
The truth was that elusion and forbearance were key, a motif which transcended all superfluous concepts. The physical and mental capabilities that extended beyond what was strictly regarded as pivotal and paramount were nothing more than mere distractions that were destined to be purged from one’s mindscape until further notice. The footsteps grew closer still. Luz’s breath hitched. One hand went to her lips, conspicuously stifling the sparse lungfuls of oxygen between the dead air that encaged her figure like the white-hot chains of time and space. She could discern the steps belonging to the guard, heavy and thundering and charged through the aura that permeated the piercing atmosphere. As the hair-raising sound of the sonorous footsteps slowly, steadily evanesced with a swift gust of wind, an ephemeral gale, the hiding teenager allowed herself to exhale sharply through gritted teeth like a low, guttural whistle, her current position far too uncomfortable to allow any sort of leeway or elbow room. King squirmed under her grasp.
“You’re suffocating me, Luz,” he said between breaths.
“Oh, sorry.”
Luz let him go. King slumped onto the floor like a ragdoll, then hastily collected himself, tiny and proud. Luz allowed herself, for the first time since the guard made his unprompted appearance, to breathe deeply, a hand going to her chest, as if her heart would simply up and bolt if given the chance. She, too, hung limp like a corpse, eyes to the sky.
“Phew, that was so close.”
King patted himself, as if to rid his fur of any possible impurities. “Yeah, hide-and-seek wasn’t on our schedule, that’s for sure.”
Rising to her feet, Luz scoped the area out, searching for future threats to their safety. The silence was petrifying. “King,” she said, dismayed, teetering on the verge of panic, “we should really go before—”
She glanced downwards, searching for her younger brother. Something clicked. The silence, the earth-shattering silence, rang hollow throughout her head, a booming bell.
King was gone.
Luz felt the world—and her heart—stop.
“King…?”
“Fear me, assimilated witch!”
Luz, for a fleeting moment, felt as though the moments were passing by through the lens of an omniscient outsider, nothing more than a nosy onlooker stitching a collage of sepia-filtered photographs together with no semblance of coherence whatsoever. She snuck a peek at the clear, delineated path they’d just been at and found King, small but determined, darting straight towards the unaware Coven Guard—towards his imminent demise—with flailing arms and a wagging tail. And, though his fortitude was admirable, his stupidity spoke louder.
“King!”
King lept, heading straight for the Coven Guard’s mask. The act reminded Luz of when they’d hunt for fireberries, the ones at the top of the tallest tree they could find. The nostalgia was abrupt and unwelcome, ephemeral as it may have been. Apoplectic and more than warranted in his ire, King clawed and gnawed on whatever he could get his paws on. The Coven Guard staggered to and fro, taken aback, but otherwise unharmed; the mask had done its job of protecting his face from any possible damage taken. Opting to welcome the opportunity he was given with open arms, the guard snatched a catching pole from his belt, outstretched it and used the circular tip to seize the attacking canine. King, having suddenly found himself in trouble, no longer able to come and go as he pleased, struggled against the leash’s hold. His writhing was futile, serving only to exhaust him further. Luz, witnessing this atrocity, promptly rushed to her brother’s aid, teeth gritted and fists at the ready.
“Let my brother go!”
The Coven Guard turned to her, one eyebrow pointedly—skeptically—raised. “This mutt is your brother?”
“Hey,” King protested, squirming, “this is the king of demons you’re talking ab—!”
The leash tightened.
“Can’t… breathe…”
Luz began to grow hysterical, her tone switching between ballistic and supplicatory as she commanded, “Let him go!”
“Where are your parents?”
“That’s none of your business!”
The Coven Guard’s gaze alternated between the limp canine at the tip of his pole and the distraught teenager in front of him. A favorable set of unfolding circumstances, that was. “Tell you what, kid,” he bargained, ever the opportunist, “come with me and the mutt lives.”
Luz’s eyes fell onto King.
“… Fine.”
“Luz, don’t—”
“But—” Luz said, interrupting her brother’s feeble protests, “—you have to do something for me first.”
Brazen as ever, and confident in his forthcoming victory, the Coven Guard refused to back down, to step away while he still had the chance. He would surely get a promotion for this; two for the price of one. “And that is…?”
Luz’s eyes glimmered dangerously.
“Run.”
A fourth refrain.
It happened within the blink of an eye. The atmosphere grew warmer, lighter. Synchronously, a small motif, belonging to a finely-tuned violin, sliced throughout the air, like the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings between subsequent seconds. The Coven Guard, stupefied by this sudden development, glanced around in search of the mysteriously alluring sound. The notes grew manic, hectic in their purpose. A masked figure emerged from the shadows, graceful in their steps and skillful in their craft, one hand on a bow and another on the neck of a violin. The Coven Guard’s hold on the catching pole loosened, finger by finger—not of their own accord, but forcefully—causing it to fall onto the floor, liberating King from his temporary prison. Now a free demon, he immediately darted towards his sister, Luz, who hugged him tightly, as though he may turn to ash were she to let go. Her hair and cape, as well as his fur and collar, both danced with every note meticulously played, every hum and whistle and whine of the violin. The figure continued to approach the trio, an unceasing force to be reckoned with.
With the apogee at hand, the crescendo of their impromptu spectacle, the violin’s melody began to dwindle and die like the embers of a campfire at dawn. Another figure arose from the shadows to join the wild performance, a well-known white-haired menace.
A song, a dance—two hearts beating as one.
Luz and King watched in awe as the two witches before them enacted the choreography of a lifetime, a waltz unlike any other, unmistakable in regards to its orchestration, the sheer symmetry and harmony displayed. Whilst one handled the mobility of their enemy, ensuring his inability to escape the field, the other would conduct the offense, the physical damage inflicted. Their presentation was flawless, both from a visual and tactical standpoint, as though they’d been doing it for years. Perhaps they had. Luz and King couldn’t be quite sure, ominous as said figures were. The two of them kept their distance, knowing their place. The battle, thankfully, was over in the blink of an eye. With the Coven Guard utterly subjugated and humiliated, as well as having been rendered unconscious thanks to a well-cast sleep spell, the two witches that surfaced from the darkness fist-bumped. Their glee lasted exactly half a second before their smiles were replaced by frowns, sparing a glance towards the two children before them. Luz’s feathers were standing on end, making her look like a particularly fleshy, witch-shaped ball of dirt. King still had the catching pole around his neck. They both looked like they’d been frightened to hell and back.
“Luz,” one sternly said.
The other followed shortly after, their tone just as severe, “King.”
Luz gulped.
“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”
The withering looks of parental disappointment the two of them received said it all. King huffed, releasing the catching pole from around his throat and proceeding to cross his arms in utter dismay when faced with his lost chance at exacting revenge upon the so-called ‘assimilated witches’. “I should’ve ripped an eyeball out.”
“King,” Luz hissed, trying desperately to salvage this disaster of a night.
The adults were not at all amused.
“Follow us.”
“Nene,” Luz said, reaching out for what she deemed to be the more sensible, pragmatic one of the duo, her anxiety rising with every passing second, “I can explain—”
‘Nene’ raised an arm, a call for silence. Luz’s excuse died on her lips, evaporating like a serene rivulet coming into collision with an active volcano. The duo of adults turned on their heels, silently walking away, side by side. King and Luz’s gazes met, violet onto brown, their expressions identical. They deemed it wise to follow them. King looked sheepish, his eyes trailing the path stretched out before them, far beyond one’s gaze. The silence was painfully unbearable, like a saw going through their heads.
“I’m sorry I got us into trouble…”
Luz’s countenance softened, lips curved upwards. “It’s alright, King.”
They were both painfully aware it wasn’t alright, not really. For a fleeting, peaceful moment, however, premised between dawn and twilight, the two of them allowed themselves to pretend it was.