Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s not easy being a witch.

Especially since being a witch means you get hunted down by humans.

And if you’re one of those special snowflake witches with especially strong quintessence, then you’ll get hunted down by power lusted witches that either want to suck your magic out of your very body or control you into their own puppet.

Luna, he’s seen it all.

When his grandmother, Anna, suggested that he should move out of the family house back in Cuba and move somewhere farther; he was happy to oblige. He loved his family, that was a given, and his family loved him back. There was one main problem of him staying with them, though.

When he was younger, Lance was a naïve child. His father yells at his mother-in-law a lot. He never really understood why until he grew older. His father was extremely religious, causing his wife and children to follow in his footsteps.

He didn’t think witches were real, claiming Anna was some sort of crazed psycho who spends the rest of her days alone. That was until the government opened up and told them about how ‘dangerous’ witches are. Once news of that spread, Anna’s last words to him were:

“My child. Believe me when I say, Luna has her eyes on you. You will grow up to become a fine witch one day. But before you achieve that: study my books, practice your spells, and stay hidden. Don’t trust anyone with this secret- not even other witches! You do not know what truly lies in their heart.”

“Become my legacy. I love you.”

That was 10 years ago, his grandmother went missing when he was 8. He was devastated, of course. He had grown so close to her. He had become her student in magic: letting him read her books and skip class evolved to actually practicing the craft himself.

And in the time she left, Lance had grown into a great witch. Sure, he wasn’t too keen on the potions and crafting part of witchcraft, but he can hold his ground in energy casting and summoning!

He rarely gets the chance to practice witchcraft when she left. And at that time, he decided to take classes regularly instead of skipping. What was even the point? Luckily, all the bullying became much more tolerable once he met Hunk.

Hunk was being bullied, too, for having two moms. But since he was Lance’s first actual human friend, he decided that his magic can be useful in school after all. The teachers and parents never really found out who attacked the kids. It terrified them, seeing how close the children were to death.

Witches were caught, day by day. Everything was a mess. Everything was chaos. Fire was a common theme to get rid of witches. Burning their houses while they were inside? That didn’t terrify Lance as much as the most common method. Burning bodies in town square. Letting children watch so they can pelter their bodies with rosaries and crosses- somehow fueling the flames even more.

None of them ever thought of the possibility that a child can be a witch, too. So, he was safe until he graduated high school.

When his best friend, Hunk, approached him and told him he and his moms were moving to America; he asked if Lance wanted to join them. Fuck. Yes. Anything to get away from the dumpster fire that was Cuba.

Begging with his parents to let him leave was easy, though. They never really favored Lance, and truth be told; he didn’t like to be around them, too. He loved them and they loved him, sure, but his own parents helped to get rid of his own kind. And Lance was never really too religious nor successful, unlike his siblings. Lance was more accepting than his bloodline.

Anything related to Satan? Forbidden.

Homosexuals? Disgusting.

Witches? Fucking burn them to the ground.

So he left, and now here he was, unpacking his things in his lonely apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Again, Hunk. You don’t really have to do this for me,” Lance said, sandwiching his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he continued to unpack his belongings, “I can get a part-time job and pay the rent on my own.”

He swears to Luna he can hear Hunk frown through the phone. “Nuh-uh! You are not suffering through rent bills and debts! I’ve heard so many people from school faced that when they moved to different countries! My best friend deserves the best of the best. Besides, my moms insist. They treat you, like, their second son.”

The Cuban fist-bumps the air in victory, a cocky grin spreading through his face. “Aw hell yeah, I’m part of the Garret family now? I am so honored! Can I join taco night, my beloved brother?” Lance teased.

A chuckle broke through the phone. “You know you can join us anytime, right? I don’t have siblings, you’re loved by my moms, and I have two moms. You know two moms mean more food cooked, right? How do you think I got this much weight?”

A gasp broke through the call, Lance putting his hand on his chest. “How dare- Hunk you are the definition of a human teddy bear. Body and heart. Don’t doubt yourself, ever. You hear me?!”

“Well, I guess I have three moms, now.” Hunk joked. “Remember my uncle? Uncle Hurb? He works somewhere in Arizona in a top-notch company and told us the best way of shopping is online. Don’t worry, my moms deposited in both our bank accounts.”

Lance frowned, not wanting to feel like a liability to them. “Hunk, you should tell them to cut me off. They should focus on you-“

“Nope, not gonna happen. Don’t worry. Mom’s a doctor and my Tina is a lawyer. My uncle is the CEO of a top-notch company in Arizona and my two Aunts works as a bakery owner and an engineer respectively. Trust me, you’re taken care of.”

There was a pause.

“More than your family has, at least.” That made Lance stop himself from cutting open one of the boxes, the box cutter hovering over the tape. “How are they anyway? Did they try to contact you? Like, at all. . .?” Hunk already knew the answer to that.

Lance sighed. “Nah. To be completely honest, I’m ready to change my name. I don’t want to be a Mcclain anymore. The family sucks. And. . .” He stabbed the box, cutting the tape with one swift swipe. “. . . I never really got to tell them I’m bi. Not like they’re gonna accept me, anytime soon. Should’ve told them before I left, they could’ve disowned me.”

“You deserve better than that, dude. Trust me.” He can feel Hunk smile from the other end of the call. “But now, I have to go. Gotta talk to the landlady then call my moms to tell them I settled okay. Why do our apartment buildings have to be so far?”

“Hey! Don’t worry, that just means our friend search grows wider. Besides, we’re a few blocks away so I can drop in anytime! And you can drop in at any time.” Lance chirped, grabbing a few ‘items’ from it. “Take care, okay?”

Hunk hummed before the beep blared in his ear. Lance placed his phone on the bedside table that came with the apartment. There were other furniture, too.

A table, chairs, a bar area with bar stools lining up on the counters were at the kitchen.

A bed with a really soft mattress, a couple of bedside tables, and a closet room in the bedroom.

A living room with a couch and a coffee table.

An okay bathroom.

Yep, this was definitely a decent apartment. He walked into the bedroom, he had already placed a few boxes laying around, knowing they are for the closet. There was two, one filled of boxes and another filled with his bed sheets and pillows.

Online shopping. . . maybe he’ll try it. He’ll need paint, light orange wasn’t that good- it was fading slightly, too. And maybe a tv and a computer. . .? A printer and a few more things. He dropped the clothes on the dusty mattress, making a mental note to fluff it before putting the sheets on.

He’ll make this crappy apartment into a home.

Chapter Text

“You need more friends,” Dakota says as he paws Lance’s phone. He can hear his summoner sigh as the door of the cupboard slammed shut. “You’ve been in here so long, you look like a vampire.” The wolf barely had time to jump out of the couch before a bag of doritos hit him.

“Shut up, Dakota.” Lance sits down in his summon’s spot, swiping his phone beside him. Dakota growls as he hops back into the couch, curling on his lap. “You know, I like it when you’re in puppy mode.” His hand wonders over to his ears, giving a light scratch. He can see his tail wag, satisfied.

Lance huffed in amusement, checking with his messages. A week has passed since he moved in and started searching for work and he still hasn’t found a place that didn’t look shady. ‘Work for us and give pleasure to all our clientele! Accepting male workers now!’ didn’t sound at all safe. Or moral.

In defeat, he throws his phone onto the coffee table in front of him, earning a slight flinch from the small wolf pup on his lap. He feels like such a burden for the Garett family, just because his dumb family can’t even send him as much as an ‘are you okay’ email!

Whatever, his parents think the internet is some satanic ritual communication hub anyways.

It was when Lance’s stomach rumbled loudly when he finally decided to buy food for his fridge and cupboards. The only food in the kitchen were bags of chips, half a loaf of bread, milk, and Nutella from the convenience store near the apartment complex.

With a loud groan, he looks down at Dakota; staring up at him with curious eyes. “I think it’s time we go out to Walmart or something. Maybe stop by a nearby Mcdonald’s or Zuppa’s for a quick bite. Plus,” Lance pets the pup gently, “you need a walk.”

Dakota’s ears perk up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The pup runs freely on the concrete sidewalk, Lance hot on his trail. His long strides being able to catch up with the small wolf pup easily. Dakota loved walks outdoors. Being inside was simply frustrating and boring. Being in a dark abyss for a few hundred years does that to someone.

Where are we going first? Grocery store? Fast food? I feel like eating a taco or something!

Lance rolls his eyes, sipping his bubble tea with a quirk in his lips. Of course, they needed to use their mental connection to talk. Having a wolf pup in the city is bad enough, but having a talking wolf in public is definitely asking for trouble. At least he looks like a normal dog.

People have confused the wolf summon as many different dog breeds: Namely Tamaskans, Huskies and even Kugshas. When Lance first summoned him, he looked much larger in size, glowing blue eyes, and glowing white fur. Thankfully, they were able to rid the obvious magical appearance. But Dakota can still turn into his original form whenever he (or Lance) feels like it’s necessary.

We’ll go to Walmart for some groceries. I’m gonna buy more milk, frozen waffles, cereal, a few vegetables, pork, eggs, bacon-

BACON. YES! BUY EXTRA. HOW ABOUT STEAK??? OR CHICKEN!

Mmmm, we’ll see. I have zero idea how much meat costs America.

Whaaat?! Come on, Lance. My summoners before you let me hunt reberos and granas for fun! Heck, they even let me hunt Varianions and bermas!

One; I have no idea what those are, alien animals are weird and you need to admit they sound weird, too. Two; Shush, you could get those for free. Meanwhile, I’m over here having to pay 8 dollars for a pound of chicken and needing to cook it for you!

But Laaaaaance, you don’t need to cook them!

But you prefer it that way, don’t you?

. . . you win.

Dakota suddenly flops down in front of his summoner, his front limbs stretch in front of him as his ears twitch slightly. Lance stops right behind him and sighs. He crouches down, puts his tea down onto the ground, picks up the summon and places him into the hood of his jacket.

He can feel his tail wag with content. Lance smiled before picking up his tea and standing up, walking down the sidewalk. They walked down a few shops down the road before feeling something. A wave of energy hit both him and Dakota. The pup perked his head up.

What.

I-It’s day time. Why is there lunar energy at literally the middle of the day?! Unless. . .

We need to get to that source.

Dakota jumps down from his hood and they start sprinting towards the source. This source was strong. Maybe as strong as a full moon. They needed to find it. It was like a rope pulling him closer. His body going autopilot no matter how much his mind refuses to.

Wave after wave.

Stronger and stronger.

Closer and closer.

They stopped in front of an antique shop, way too old for their time. In the glass pane window were different items from different eras. A deer skull, a recorder, a suit of armor and they can make out a few paintings and bookshelves inside.

Lance looked both ways of the sidewalk, seeing a few people around. Self-conscious, he pulled up his hood over his head and buries his hands into the pockets of his jacket before opening the door. The bell above the door rang through the shop.

He could feel the door shut behind him and Dakota standing beside his feet, both eyeing the shop curiously. The energy is strong here. It must be here somewhere.

“Oh! Goody goody!” A cheerful man’s voice yelled from another room. A ginger man walked out of the door behind the counter, a wide smile on his face. His mustache seemed to perk up with his smile as he approached the two. “Greetings, youngins! My name is Coran Smythe! Welcome to the Curious Curio!”

Lance only gave a small smile. “Hi, I’m just here to look around. I’m sure I’ll buy something, the place looks. . .” Old? Worn down? About to go out of business? “. . . interesting. Where do you find these kinds of things anyway? You’d think most of them would be in museums or in a collector’s. . . collection?”

The ginger man chuckled slightly as he inches closer to a painting that looks exactly like the Mona Lisa. “Yes, they really should be in museums. But I’ve found ways to,” His hand moves up to flip the painting around, “acquire them through close friends!”

. . . I like this man.

Dakota!

You can’t say you don’t like him, too!

. . . God damnit

Watch your quiznacking language, young man!

I still don’t know what Quiznack means.

Lance buries his fists deeper into his pockets. “I hope you don’t mind if I check the store around, see something particularly stellar to bring home.” That adjective. Stellar. His grandmother used to say that a lot, a close second to lunar.

“All right, young man! I hope you and your wolf cub find something interesting!” How did he know. . .? Was Dakota too obvious? Lance and Dakota share a look with each other, both of concern and worry. “Just holler if you need any help!”

Then he hops back into the door at the back of the counter, the door giving a small click as it closed. The witch let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding while Dakota started to take a few steps forward.

“That energy source is around here somewhere, I can feel it.” He starts sniffing the air and sprinting forwards, sniffing everything. Lance walks around the shop, trying to pinpoint where it could be. Nothing on the shelves, a few skulls, potions (?), weapon pieces, metals, books (checking those out later for sure).

Then he spots a deer skull hung proudly on a wall. The witch tries to glare back at the empty eye sockets staring back at him. Like somehow the skull would tell him where the energy source was. But he felt another wave of energy hit him.

He looked at the deer skull, shocked. Dakota runs up to his side and barks. “There! There it is! The energy source is in there!” Lance immediately stretches out his arm to grab the antique off the wall. It took a bit of strength to pull it out, but it gave out.

He reaches his hand in through the deer’s jaws and paws for anything other than dry, rough bone. It was when he felt something smooth and glass-like that he stopped. Power seemed to coarse through his veins. Untouched, uncorrupted, unlimited power.

He immediately pulls it out, revealing a small gem. It was royal blue, hard and smooth. It looked like it was from the queen’s own crown. Give or take, it was slightly dusty, but can be easily taken care off. He uses his sleeve to wipe the gem, revealing a shiny surface underneath.

“Great!” Dakota said as he looks like he’s ready to sprint out of the shop in lightning speed. “Now, let’s pay for it and get out of here-“

“Leaving so soon, young witch?”

The two of them freeze, their bodies seemingly paralyzed from the familiar voice. After a few moments, they turned around. They were greeted by Coran. His hands were folded behind his back as he eyes Lance head to toe. The witch can feel his entire body icing over, and Dakota can probably feel it, too.

Then he splutters out nervous laughter. “I- what? Witch? They don’t exist! No-sir-ee! I’m just a normal teenage boy who likes this gem and please don’t kill me, I’m not a bad witch.” He squeaks out the last part. Really, he just wants to leave. He’ll even leave the gem. He just wants to live.

Coran’s solemn expression turned of one with glee. “My! In all my years of life, I have never met a lunar witch before.” Oh my Luna, he knows. “Quiznack, I hadn’t seen a witch in. . . 10 years! My, that was such a short while ago!”

Dakota takes on a defensive stance. “You. . .” He glares at the ginger. “. . . Smell different.” Summons can apparently sense the souls of others. Their quintessence, if you will. They sense it in different ways, but for any hunting animal summon such as his, they can either smell, see, or taste it.

“Ever met a Fae before, little summon?”

Lance quirks his eyebrow. “A . . . Fae?” He sees Dakota deflate from his defensive stance, ears dropping on the side of his head with wide, unbelieving eyes. Eyes that never looked away from the man in front of him.

“A Fae is like a fairy, but well. . . isn’t,” Coran began, “We’re more on the serving and healing and generally being a good support kind. However, I have met a few of my kind who were exceptionally good at fighting. It was rare to find a Fae with any sort of offense magic, almost impossible really. Some of us are the deceiving kind, you see. The whole; ‘you pay whatever you take’ from us sort of thing?”

The witch slowly nods his head, only being able to process some of the information given. “So, there are other kinds of. . . non-humans that still exist?” Coran nods. “Do you keep in contact with the non-human kind?”

Coran lets out a happy hum. “Of course. This whole ‘antique shop’ is just a little façade to keep humans from being suspicious. Really, I deliver things to non-humans all around the city! Vampires, werewolves, shifters, ghouls, the undead. I remember 200 years ago, witches would buy things from me to help protect themselves from humans. More specifically, hunters!”

Lance flinched at that word. Hunters. Thanks to them, he may be the only witch alive. Coran said it himself, even he hasn’t met any after the government finally called them out. Wait- “Wait, 200 YEARS?!” How did Lance not notice it sooner?!

With a curious hum, Coran smiled. “Ah yes, I am precisely 10,000 years old! I turn 10,001 in two months actually, quite a few non-humans, such as the fae,  have non-aging qualities, but others simply drink a potion to keep themselves young forever.” He laughs at himself. “Humans are really weird, no? They celebrate a day of birth and mourn on a day of death. They celebrate meaningless holidays to give purpose to their useless and short lives.”

Lance looks at him, bewildered (and kind of scared). “Um, but it’s fun? It’s something like bonding days with loved ones. But I do agree that humans are a bit desperate for happiness. But hey, aren’t we all?”

Coran laughs again. “Yes, maybe they are fun.” He eyes Lance up and down again, sparing a few glances at Dakota. “You know, I’ve been looking for an assistant. And maybe a witch is just what the doctor ordered.”

“Which reminds me,” Lance interrupts, “How did you know I was a witch?” He really needs to be more careful. He was lucky that Coran was an accepting and friendly guy. But what if non-humans can sense him, too? What would they do to him?

Coran looks at the gem in the Cuban’s hand. “Ah! Well, I’ve hidden that gem for good reason. Even if Lunar witches were a rarity back in the day, I still had hopes of having even a normal witch attracted to the quintessence. However, I guess a lunar gem attracts a lunar witch! Plus, your summon over here isn’t really as quiet as you thought.”

“That gem is yours to keep, but the job is still available! All you have to do is deliver a few things, check inventory, create spells and potions for orders, do a task here and there for clients. The pay will be worth it!”

Lance seemed to be pulled into a deep thought before nodding. “Actually, I have one favor to ask of you.” Lance rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Is it alright if I rent a few spell books time to time? I haven’t gotten the opportunity to expand my spell books in a while.”

“Then I guess you get the job-“ ding. Coran freezes, his hand midway from giving a handshake. “Humans.”

Two humans walk in. One was short. She had messy honey-brown hair and large circle frame glasses. She had a green and white sweater with olive green shorts and red boots. The other was taller than her, paler, too. He had a messy mop of black hair, only tamed down by the red beanie. He wore a red jacket, black shirt and jeans and red boots---- is that fingergloves?!

“I haven’t had humans here in a few days. And I’m finishing up an order, too! Uh. . .”

“Lance”

“Lance, watch them and make sure they actually don’t steal anything!” with that, the ginger stealthily makes his way back to that door.

He can hear their talking as they step closer. Dakota hides behind his legs while Lance looks at the large variety of books on the bookshelf nearby. He can barely hear their conversation as they stopped to look at a shelf.

“This blade looks kind of cool. Look, it even has a few chips from being used so much.”

“Keith, I swear your obsession with anything metal and sharp is getting lowkey worrying.”

“Like your obsession to hack national files and computers?”

“At least mine is useful.”

Lance sighs as he grabs a book from the shelf. He looks down to see the cover, only to have his sight minimalized by his hood. Right, he still had it on. Maybe he can edge his way into the backroom with Coran? He feels like he stands out too much.

He glances down at Dakota, who seems to hear what he had planned. He responded with a short nod. Lance gripped the book tightly in one hand and buried his other hand in his jacket pocket. His gaze stuck to the ground to avoid eye contact with the two.

Stay out of sight, Dakota.

Yes sir.

They walked closer to the counter, but they had to pass by the two. Hopefully they were too busy talking and looking around the bookshelf to notice him. He wasn’t really looking where he was going, his eyes stuck on the ground.

“Hey! Look out!”

A hand gripped his arm before pulling him backwards. From the sudden momentum, he can barely see a few bottles fall out of the shelf in front of him. They hit the ground with a clink, their contents swirling inside.

Okay. That was close.

That would’ve been a bad concussion.

He turned around to see the boy, gripping his arm tightly. “Are you alright?” He asked, letting go. Lance moved to feel his arm. He gripped too hard, too fast; it might bruise. Oh well, better than a concussion, he guesses

He gave him a short nod. “Sorry, I was. . . thinking about something.” He looked back at the potions on the ground. “How did they fall down, anyway?”

The boy turned to look at the girl, who was smiling innocently. “Someone thought it would funny to push the shelf. It’s our fault, really. But are you okay? You seem. . .” The boy looked him down head to toe, catching the Dakota’s tail behind his legs. “Is that a dog?”

Dakota moved to their line of sight, growling with a protective stance in front of Keith. Although, it didn’t exactly do the job considering his size.

I don’t trust them, Lance. Let’s go before they do something.

Lance quickly turns to pick the puppy up. “Sorry, he’s not friendly with new people. You have to earn his trust first.” Dakota doesn’t stop growling. His eyes are still locked on the potential dangers in front of them.

And why would you say that?!

Because. They’re humans in an antique shop that’s a secret delivery place for non-humans! What if they know we’re not normal?!

Lance rolled his eyes before scratching behind his ears. The growling stopped, turning into pleasant panting as he curled up in his summoner’s arms. “You just have to calm him down a bit.” He looked back up at the two. “I’m really sorry if Dakota scared you.”

“Not at all. I actually have a dog myself back at home. Kosmo is an Alaskan Malamute.” The boy laughs. “People mistake him for an actual wolf sometimes. I just let him run around the backyard until he catches a rabbit or something.”

The girl perks up beside him. “Because your wolf -for-a-dog is scary as shit! First time I met him, he looked like he was ready to bite me!” She crosses her arms.

“But he didn’t.”

That just earns a laugh from Lance. His fit of laughter stops once he sees the glare of the wolf pup. “What are you doing here, anyway? This place doesn’t get a lot of costumers,” Lance said.

“Oh, just. . . window shopping I guess. I don’t know. This place looks like it’s about to go out of business.” The boy said with a small smile. “What about you?”

“Oh. . . I work here, I guess?” Lance shrugs. “I just got the job today. I work as the owner’s assistant. He’s really nice, you should go meet him. Maybe he can help you find something interesting to look for.”

The brown-haired girl adjusted her glasses, making the lenses glint in the light. “We’re looking for something about cryptids. Loch ness monster, big foot, sasquatch, mothman. You know, those kinds of stuff. We’re also interested in aliens.”

Lance tenses slightly at the mention of aliens while Dakota perks up his ears. “Oh um, hm. I’ll go ask Coran, he probably has something like that?”

“Something like what, my boy?”

They turned to see Coran with a grin on his face. Where did he come from? Was he finished with the order? “What can I help you two with?”

“Cryptids, aliens, those kinds of things.”

“Ah! Well, follow me!” Coran goes to one of the shelves. Most of its shelves were filled with more antiques, but the top shelf looks like it’s stuffed with different journals and notebooks. The ginger grabs a pair and hands it to the mullet.

“These were old journals and notebooks I came across while going through different countries and what-not.” Coran points to one journal, covered in. . . white fur? “This one in particular is about the Himalayan Yeti. I came across it in an abandoned log cabin in the Himalayas.”

His finger lands on the leather journal next. “This one is about the jersey devil. Actually, I found this buried in the forests of New Jersey. I was roaming around the forest with a metal detector and boom! I found this chest buried around 10 feet under. Some of the items in the chest are now somewhere in the shop, but this journal is one of them.”

The two eyed the pair of books in disbelief. “I am willing to sell you them. There are plenty other books about cryptids if you’re interested. I have photocopied all of them so I have a spare stock in the back. The ones you have in hand are the original ones.”

“I fucking told you the yeti was real.”

“Shut up, Pidge.”

Coran clasped his hands together in glee. “I am rather glad there are still youth who find interest in the supernatural! Just know where you shouldn’t stick your noses in if you wanna keep ‘em! Some things are supposed to be left forgotten,” The man said before moving towards the counter. “Those cost $25 dollars each, by the way.”

The two exchanged looks. They must have brought at least a bit of cash, right?

“Do you have any money on you?”

“Nope”

Lance sighed. Of course, he’s going to pay it for these two. He can’t let them leave the store unsatisfied. “Listen,” Lance spoke up, “I can just pay it for you guys. I mean, I work here so you can just pay it back when you visit again. I’m pretty damn sure you’re gonna come back for more of these journals.”

They eagerly nod. If they visit again. It’d be a waste of $50, but he has a bank account with a large sum of money from the Garett’s. Although. . . what are their names again? Did they even introduce themselves? The boy said the girl’s name. . . Pidge?

“The name’s Lance. I don’t know about you but I would like to know the names of the people I’m giving a debt to,” the witch joked, a smile stretched on his face.

That seemed to perk up the two. “Um, I’m Katie but everyone calls me Pidge- “She pauses slightly, “-Nah, let me rephrase that. I’m Pidge but no one calls me Katie.”

The boy rolls his eyes. His name is what has Lance curious about. He can’t exactly point out why. “Keith. Keith Kogane. Again, thanks for paying for us. We’ll be sure to come back again. These journals look authentic.”

Lance only offers a nod with a small smile. “No problem.”

Chapter Text

A bus. That was the first thing Lance realized. He was on a bus. He finally registered bus doors closing beside him, soon followed by the scoldings of the driver. “Hey kid! Hurry up and take a seat! Ain’t got all day!”

 Lance whipped his head to look at him. The driver looked like a skeleton, covered in skin. His featureless- face looks at the road in a glare.  Even his mouth was covered. His clothes draped over his skinny arms as long fingers grasped the wheel.

But for some reason, it didn’t faze him. Instead, the witch simply looked back at the seats and walked toward the narrow space in between the chairs. Every seat was taken. Each passenger looked the same to him. Unlike the driver, they weren’t skin covered skulls.

They were figures, all of same height, all of same width, all of same posture, all of same clothing. White robes draped their bodies, hoods covered their faces- leaving only a dark abyss as a face. Their hands were grasping their laps tightly. It almost feels like they’re obedient robots waiting for their next order.

He walked down the aisle and grabbed a pole to steady himself. However, it felt like the bus wasn’t moving. Just parked while the outside moved quickly. After a few seconds of staring at the window past the cloaked figures, he heard a page of paper turn behind him.

There was only one person who stood out from the rest. A man seated in the seat beside him, next to the pole Lance had chosen to hold onto. His upper body covered by the large newspaper he held. All he could make out were his hands. They are scarred, like he was burnt, and his hands hold onto the paper like he was going to crumple it.

How did he not notice him earlier? He would’ve definitely spotted a man holding a newspaper in the sea of white robbed figures. And it wasn’t like the newspaper camouflaged well into the crowd.

“You heard the big headline?” The man asked as his finger taps the picture of the front page. The Cuban tilts his head a bit to get a better view.

‘Storm witch; apprehended!’

There was a picture of a man next to a bunch of text. The man looked like he was in his 30’s,sporting a simple beard. He had a piercing through his chin and his left eyebrow. Curiosity drove him into reading the first few sentences of the first paragraph. He squints his eyes to read the small text.

‘After weeks of apprehension, 34-year-old Andrew Callughan was finally captured and arrested at the neighborhood of sunny wood. He was executed at the break of dawn by means of burning at the town plaza with two other witches; Xandra Davis, a sea witch, and Richard Hunter, unidentified witch. These three marks the 400^th worldwide witch death count.”

The date clearly read; ‘August 29, 2007.” This newspaper was dated 11 years ago, a year before the government formally announced that all witches- worldwide- were now considered extinct.

“Witches weren’t that common,” The man began, “That’s why the non-humans loved us. We were basically healers, spell-casters, potion-makers and fighters rolled up into a single person. But ancient witch law stated that we cannot hurt another living being, or the damage will triple to us. It’s only a superstition; we can hurt as many people with no consequence if we so desired, but we followed it.

“But thanks to our pacifist ways, the government succeeded at wiping out the witches. But I’ll let you in on a little fact, kid. At the time of the publishing of this newspaper, they only killed 100 witches worldwide.”

Lance quickly looked around him. When did the windows go dark? When did the man tear the top of the newspaper? When did the driver disappear? Who was driving the bus? Is the bus even moving? Where are we going?

“You’re next, kid.” The man crumples the newspaper, finally giving Lance a good look at his face. His face was scarred and red. His face was burnt. He was burnt. The only thing that he can distinguish from the man were the piercings on his chin and left eyebrow.

“Once they find out who you are—what you are, they won’t stop until you’re under their mercy. But trust me when I say, they’ll give you a crueler fate than death.”

Lance whipped his head around to see the passengers getting up all at once, the black abyss where their faces should be stared at him. Their hands, once on their laps, were now concealed in their sleeves. Their right and left sleeves connected in front of them, giving them a cult-like vibe.

He whipped his head back to look at the man, but standing in his place was another cloaked figure. Lance lets go of the pole he only now realizes he still had a grip on. He steps away from the figure who had replaced the burnt man, slowly finding himself surrounded as the figures grow closer. The floor – or something on the floor below him- glowed a bright purple.

Who are these people? Where did the bus go? Where were they? What are they going to do? What do they want? All rushed into Lance’s head. He felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack. He felt like collapsing and curling into a ball, crying his eyes out. He felt like he wanted to give up.

Give up.

                                                                                * * *

Lance jolted awake, sitting up as quickly as he could. The first thing he registered was his right hand outstretched in front of him. He recognizes the heavy breathing as is own and feels the cold moisture of sweat covering his body.

It took a few seconds to slow his heartrate down, only by a few beats. “A dream,” He told his empty bedroom. It felt like he needed to hear it out loud. To calm himself down? To ease his racing heart? He doesn’t know.

“It was just a dream. . .” More like a fucking nightmare. He let his right hand drop beside him. His eyes scanned the room, almost like if he didn’t; one of the cloaked figures would appear. His closet was still sort of empty since he didn’t really bring too much clothes, his lamp seated comfortably on the bedside table.  He should probably turn the lights on.

Lance puts an arm on the wall next to him. His bed was right next to the wall on his left, the lamp located at his right. He stretches to turn on the light, seemingly needing the support of the wall.

The light clicks on, letting his desk and computer be better seen. His desk had a few spell books on it, 10 of which were from his grandmother and a few from Coran. Oh yeah, he has work tomorrow. A witch as a Fae’s assistant.

Did he tell Hunk about his new job? What did he do after he left the Curious Curio? He. . . went to get groceries, Dakota begged him to go to the park, Lance ended up chasing him when he found a cat. Nope, he didn’t tell Hunk.

He should tell him before he accidentally gets him a second job. Did Hunk get a job, though? He can recall a call they had two days ago. Hunk was telling him about a restaurant. Was it because he got a job there or they had really good food?

Wait- where was Dakota? He was supposed to be sleeping on his bed with him, right? Wait, no. He’s probably sleeping on the couch in front of the tv, playing action movies in Netflix. Breaking Bad, probably. The wolf pup was like a college drop-out, wasting his life with a bag of chips and tv.

He should probably turn it off and take Dakota to bed. The summon hates it when he wakes up in the couch. Maybe Lance can grab a water, too. Luna, he’ll need something to wash down that goddamn nightmare.

 *      *      *

“Huuuuunk.”

“Laaaaaance.”

Lance sips the straw of his cold coffee with his phone sandwiched between his ear and his shoulder. A playful grin plays on his face as he can hear his best friend’s pouting. “Listen, just tell your moms to cut me off already! I have a job now.”

A huff came through the phone. “Nope. I don’t care if you got a job or not. More specifically, they don’t care. We’re still supporting you. Your family to us now. We’re Ohana.”

He can already feel the reference coming on. “Hunk, no-“

“Ohana means family. And family means we stick together.” He can tell Hunk was trying not to laugh.

“Oh my god, Hunk.” Lance chuckles at the phone. Dakota sprinted into the park, probably looking for another cat or squirrel to terrorize. His summoner followed close behind. “Just. . . tell me about this new job of yours.”

That seemed to change the subject quickly. “Right! Here in Balmeran caves, they serve really good food. They have amazing cooks and really nice servers. They’re all super friendly. AND the inside looks like an actual cave, with like cave man drawings and rocks and stuff. It’s been running for 10 years, actually! They call me rookie chef-“

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Lance sat down on a bench, watching Dakota play around in the grass. “Rookie chef?! They should put you in head chef, have they tasted your cooking?”

Hunk laughs a bit. “Of course, they have. Rookie chef is basically what they call new chefs testing the waters. I’m sure their faces told me that I was more than welcome to steal the head chef’s title.”

Lance laughs a bit to that, picturing random people gazing at Hunk’s famous roasted beef with buttered vegetables and mushroom stew on the side. “Okay, anything good happen to you? Meet any cute girls?”

Sounds of metal clashing onto tiles rang out of the phone. Sounds like Hunk dropped a frying pan and a few spoons. “HOW DID YOU KNOW ABOUT HER?!” Rang out. Lance simply sucked on the straw.

“Oh, so Hunky did find a lady? What’s her name? How’s she like?” Lance raises an eyebrow.

The man on the other end simply giggles. “Well, if you must now. Her name is Shay, she’s the owner of the restaurant I work at. She’s actually terrible at cooking. She tried to fry an egg on my first day to prove a point to her brother, Rax.”

A sigh came out of the phone while Lance rolls his eyes. “She set the kitchen AND my heart on fire.” Lance almost spits out his coffee. This fool’s in love! “She’s good at financing and managing. She’s one of the kindest people I know and her smile. Her smile, Lance! It was like the stars lining themselves up just for her.”

“Oh my god, Hunk. You’re in too deep.” Lance laughs. He can still see Dakota rolling in the grass, playing with a few other dogs. He can see their owners sitting on other benches, doing their own thing.

“That’s what she said.”

“WHAT.”

“Oh WAIT NO, SHAY DIDN’T SAY THAT! THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A JOKE. LANCE STOP LAUGHING!”

He couldn’t help it. Lance leant back on the bench, his stomach aching as couldn’t stop the burst of laughter from coming out of his mouth. That was way too beautifully orchestrated to be a coincidence, Lance has to use this as blackmail when he meets her.

Out of the corner of his tearing eyes, he can see Dakota with another dog. The dog was much like a wolf, both in appearance and size. An Alaskan Malamute. Lance can remember he watched a dog documentary with Dakota a few nights ago.

They stare down at each other. Not in a glaring way, just like curious staring. The Malamute drops to the ground in front of him, not looking away from the summon.

Lance’s laughs slow down a bit.

Dakota gets on the dog’s back. The dog stands back up.

Lance’s laughs stop completely. “Lance, is everything alright?” Hunk must be worried from the sudden change of attitude.

The dog walks away, Dakota laying down on his back.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, DAKOTA IS BEING DOG-NAPPED!” He quickly gets up and ends the call, cutting off whatever Hunk was going to say next.

He sprints after the running dog-napping dog. He really wants to use his magic to stop the dog, but there are people around. What if they notice he was using magic? What happens after they catch him? Kill him? Burn him?

‘They’ll give you a crueler fate than death.’

NOPE, AIN’T USING MAGIC TODAY! Lance runs faster after the dog. He needs to grab Dakota before they leave the park. He’ll lose them if they leave the park.

Dakota, what the fuck are you doing?!

Hanging out with my new friend.

WHAT?!

This is Kosmo.

I DON’T CARE WHAT HIS NAME IS! COME BACK HERE!

Don’t worry, I’ll come back once he-

The dog stops in front of a bench where someone was sitting. ‘Kosmo’ looks like he’s panting happily. Lance stops a few steps away from them, catching his breath. The guy on the bench must be his owner. Kosmo lies back down, but Dakota refuses to leave his back.

The guy on the bench looks up from his phone.

“Lance?”

“Keith?”

They both stared at each other, confused. “How did you find me?” He raises an eyebrow.

Lance lets out a laugh. “Your dog tried to dog-nap mine.”

Keith’s eyes dart to his dog, finding Dakota on top of him. Now Keith is just as confused as he was. “How. . . How did he. . .” he looks back up at the Cuban. “Sorry! He never does this. I’m just. . . how did. . . What. . .?”

“Trust me, it looked weirder when your dog ran.” Lance shrugs. “Don’t worry, about it. I’m pretty sure Dakota had some consent with it. I mean, he did hop on his back.”

And it was fuuuuun.

Lance wanted to snap his head to his dog and glare holes into him. Instead, they just stare at Keith. “So, this must be Kosmo.” Lance drops beside the Malamute, petting the dog. Kosmo happily pants, leaning into Lance’s touch.

“Oh wow,” Keith breaths out, “Kosmo was never this friendly to new people other than me. He usually growls at them or something before he warms up to them.”

The Cuban shrugs. “I’m good with animals. They automatically love me.”

Bullshit.

Shut up.

Keith laughs as he stands up from the bench. “I guess they do. Oh wait- hold on.” Lance failed to notice the mullet digging through his pockets. The man extended a few bills to the witch after a few seconds. “Here’s your money back. I’ll just get Pidge to pay back half or something.”

He almost feels bad for taking money from Keith, but nevertheless takes it. “Thanks dude, I honestly forgot about it.” Lance smiles at him as he stands up.

Keith checks his phone. “Hey, it’s still a bit early. When do you get on work? It’s like, 7:00.”

“Oh, Coran said I can go to work at 9. Why?” He tilts his head to the side.

The mullet’s eyes trained down to the ground. “I was thinking breakfast? I know this really good diner with amazing bacon and omelet.” He shrugged. “Take it as compensation for Kosmo dog-napping Dakota. They allow dogs as long as they’re far away from other costumers, and they’re usually really empty.”

Lance considers it for a second. He doesn’t know anything about this guy. What if Dakota was right? What if he’s a witch hunter in disguise and he’s trying to get Lance alone so he can suck out his quintessence or kill him. But this guy did save him yesterday.

Why the quiznack are you thinking about it, it’s free food!

I don’t wanna take this guy for granted.

Kosmo says he’s a good guy. Please? I wanna hang out with him more!

A sigh escapes his mouth. “Alright, thanks.” Keith smiles a bit.

                                                                                *    *    *

They sit at an almost empty diner, the only people being the waitress at the counter. She stopped by a few minutes ago to give them a cup of coffee and the menu.

They were seated at the booth beside a window in front of the diner; so, they can see the passing cars on the road in front.

Lance scanned through the menu. Everything in here looks so good! The bacon and omelet or the blueberry waffles? He couldn’t bring himself to choose.

Quiznack, Kosmo won’t stop telling me about the bacon and ham omelet. Please get me a plate! He said Keith gets him a separate plate.

But Keith is paying. . .

Good! Get me a plate of that omelet or I’m calling this animal abuse.

The Cuban puts down the menu. “I guess I wanna try the bacon and omelet you told me at the park a while ago. Dakota really likes bacon and ham so I guess he’ll get the B and H omelet?” Lance said. “If it’s not too much trouble, of course!”

Keith shakes his head. “Nah, it’s good. I was thinking of getting the same thing, actually.”

The waitress comes and takes their order. Her name was Colleen, she seemed pretty nice. She keeps eyeing Keith, though. Not in a flirtatious way, more like a knowing one. “What was that all about?” Lance asked as Colleen left the table to get their plates.

The boy shrugs. “I’ve been going here since I was 9. She’s basically like my aunt or something.” Keith pauses.  “She’s actually Pidge’s mom.”

Oh. That’s why they seemed close. Colleen’s hair was slightly lighter than Pidge’s, if he remembers her correctly. “What about her dad?”

“He works with my brother and his husband at the government. Their part of a military of a separate branch. The branch is pretty classified. So are their specific roles. Pidge is curious and snoops around in government files with her brother Matt, but they haven’t found anything about it yet.”

Lance nods as looks down at the two dogs. Dakota’s size works well on his favor, laying down on the bigger of the two like a pillow. “Your brother and his husband?” Lance asked, his eyes darting back at Keith.

Wow, that felt really weird to say. He’s never met any LGBT couples other than Hunk’s moms. He can still remember his parents telling him to avoid Hunk at all times. His siblings would taunt Hunk at home, causing Lance to pick fights. Heh, he's found another reason why they hate don't really like him so much.

It’s nice to know America was more accepting of the LGBT. “Yeah. . . You’re not homophobic, are you?” Keith seems to cringe into himself.

“No no no!” Lance waves his hand to try and swat away the question. “Quite the opposite actually. I’m bi.”

Keith sighed in relief. “Good, cause I’m gay as fuck.”

Lance snorted. Colleen came by not a second later, dropping off their food. He can see her pet the two dogs as she sets down their plates in front of them. The two started chowing down the omelet once the waitress left.

The owners laugh at their pets before turning to their own food. God, Lance can already feel his mouth watering at the sight in front of him. Bacon and omelet with steaming hot coffee was something his stomach started craving.

He grabbed his fork and ate a bit of the omelet, humming in pleasure. It felt like the taste was melting in his mouth.

Keith laughs. “Good?”

The Cuban nods. “Very.”

After a few moments of silence, eating their food, Lance seemed to start playing with his bacon (which was the juiciest and tenderest thing he has ever tasted.)

“My family is homophobic, actually.” Lance admits, Keith perking up in front of him. “They were really religious people. My parents forbid us from a lot of things. Internet, LGBT, a few tv shows. They were mass contributors to the witch hunting 10 years ago.”

Lance pinched his lips into a straight line, his eyes downcast. “They didn’t really like me. I was more accepting and less religious than them. Sure, I loved them, and they love me, but it was because we were bound by blood.”

Keith made an ‘oh’ movement with his mouth. “Once I moved out of Cuba, they really didn’t stay in touch. I moved with my best friend and his two moms here just a week ago. They were more than family to me than my real family ever were.”

The boy in front of him nodded in understanding. It took a few moments before he spoke up, too. “My dad was a firefighter. He died in a fire trying to save someone. Turns out, the neighbors burned down the house to kill a witch living inside.”

Lance looked back at Keith, but the boy’s eyes were staring down at his plate. “That was around 11 years ago. I was 7, Lance. My mom disappeared when I was one and I had no siblings, so I had to hop around foster home to foster home. No one really took me in.”

Now the witch feels guilty for making him spill his emotions like this. In front of someone he barely knew. “But when Shiro’s family took me in 8 years ago, it felt like I had a family. Shiro was a great brother and his parents were supportive.”

He clenched his fork. “But I was a rebellious teen going through things. His parents wanted to send me back. Shiro just took me and we ran away. We found out later that they disowned us both. They planned to get rid of him, too.”

A shaky breath. “Shiro brought us to his best friend’s house. Matt’s house. But at the time we were a literal state away from them, so we had to travel by bus. That’s how we met Pidge. And Colleen. And Sam. To be honest, I still feel guilty whenever I think about it. But at least Shiro is happy with Adam.”

A moment of awkward silence filled them. But weirdly enough, there was barely any tension. It felt like they were talking about casual things and not about their fucked-up families. “I’m sorry to here that,” Lance said, “About your mom and dad, your foster homes, Shiro’s parents. Everything.”

Keith shook his head, a sad smile playing his lips. “No, none of it is your fault.” He gives a slight pause. “I’m sorry to hear about your asshole family. You’re a wonderful person, bi and all.”

They found their plates empty. When did they finish their food? The only thing left to consume were the warm coffee sitting in front of them. They sipped their beverages, relishing the bittersweet taste.

They shared a few things with each other. Sharing memories and funny facts. Once their mugs were empty, they both curiously looked down on their dogs. They must have had a feast while they were talking, because they were both sound asleep. The two dogs snuggled against each other.

“Aw, that’s adorable,” Lance cooed. A second later, he can here the sound of a camera going off. He looked up to see the mullet with his phone out, saving the moment in his phone. “Hey, let me see.”

Keith handed his phone to the Cuban. The photo was wonderfully taken. The lighting and angle were perfect. “Wow, this is a really good shot. Send it to me, I wanna show Hunk later.”

“Sure. Oh, wait. I don’t have your number.” Keith said, before suddenly tensing up. Lance barely took notice as he switched out of the gallery and into the contacts. He typed his number out but didn’t fill any of the blanks. It felt like an invasion of privacy to fill it out for him.

However, Lance did send a text to his phone so he can get Keith’s number, too. Right after he heard his phone get the message, he handed the phone back to its owner. “Here, it has my number already. Just send me the photo. I gotta hop into work now, but we should definitely keep in touch.”

The witch stands up and carefully picks up Dakota. His summon doesn’t wake up but Kosmo does. His ears drop to the side of his head, whining at the loss of his new friend. The two owners laugh to themselves.

Lance drops to one knee and pets the Malamute. “Hey, hey. Don’t worry. You’ll see him again soon. I have to go to work now, but you’ll see Dakota again, promise.” The dog leans into his touch, his tail wagging behind him.

After a moment, he stands up and nods at Keith. The wolf pup’s ears twitch slightly, but he was still knocked out cold. “I’ll see you later, Keith. I had fun.” Lance flashes a smile before walking away, leaving the man stunned in his seat.

Chapter Text

It was 8:58.

For some god forsaken reason, Lance hated being late. Maybe it was just the habit of being ‘the punctual one’ in school. Maybe it was because it was a witch thing. Or maybe because he doesn’t want to be yelled at.

The last option is the most viable.

Dakota had started sprinting behind him a few minutes ago, awakened from the constant rocking of Lance's running figure. He was not too pleased not waking up at the diner, but he doesn’t have the time to complain.

8:59.

They were a block away from the Curious Curio. 1 minute. 1 block. They started racing towards the small shop. They made a beeline through the discrete number of people walking down the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding them.

9:00.

They scrambled into the store with heaving chests and aching feet. The urge to faint was growing stronger by the second.

Lance leant onto the door frame, trying to catch his breath. The summon behind dropped to the ground, taking shallow and rapid breaths.

They could both hear the back door opening, looking up to see the ginger man staring at them . His gaze was one of shock and curiosity (with maybe a hint of concern).

He stepped out of the door and out of the counter. “Are you lads alright? Were you chased down? Are humans coming after you?” The man sounded worried as he led the pair inside, shutting the door behind them.

He peered out of the glass window, searching for any possible threats. All he was greeted with were people walking past the shop.

Lance observed the strange man before finally stepping forward. “False alarm, Coran. We just ran to get to work on time.”

The man peeled himself off the window and looked at the large grandfather clock next to it. The large clock made a tick noise as it moved to show a minute past 9.

“My, you are a punctual one! I didn’t even realize the sun was out before I left my room to check on you,” Coran chirped, “I was wondering why you two were so early. Turns out you’re just on time.”

Maybe Lance was exaggerating. Really, how could this man ever be mad at anyone? He couldn’t hurt a fly!

The fae hobbled past the two, turning around as he reached the counter. “Come, come!” he gestured wildly for the two to follow.

The pair followed the man through the door, entering into a large, windowless room. It was lit up by a fireplace and a few lanterns on the ceiling. Must be a really cheap electricity bill of he's only paying for the front.

Inside were many brewing equipment Lance could recognize: a furnace, cauldron, etc. The cauldron was brewing over a fireplace (as cliché as that sounds) brewing a dull blue colored substance. Bubbles popped on its surface as the smell of sage and rosemary filled the air.

Shelves full of potions, herbs, plants, spices, crystals and various other things. There were jars filled with various objects. Lance could even spot something akin to a snake’s eye and something resembling a tongue on a nearby shelf.

There were a lot of non-brewing items as well. A sword was mounted onto the wall, along with a helmet. Something told him that Coran barely used them.

There were different animal heads mounted onto the wall, each with plaques under their decapitated heads.

‘Basilisk', ‘Chimera', ‘Cockatrice’ ‘Hell hound-‘

Oh shit.

The witch quickly turned to look at his summon, who stared at the hound head. But he wasn’t scared nor fearful. Heck, he wasn’t even bothered. Instead he glared up at the head's soulless, dead eyes. “I'm better than you.”

His summoner let out a laugh. Honestly, how else can he react to his tiny puppy look at the beheaded wolf with such determination? Laugh and find it adorable, obviously.

He looked over and saw a few doors on the walls. One right next to the entrance of the room, one on the corner of where the fireplace was, and one next to the head displays. How big was this place? It looked so small from the inside.

Coran was busy with the potion he was making, writing down a list as he was stirring the odd concoction. He watched as the murky blue lightened into a slightly brighter tone.

He moved over to one of the three doors. Opening the first one, he found a neat and organized bathroom. So fae use bathrooms? Neat, at least he knows where it is.

The second door led to a bedroom, definitely not suited for someone of over 10,000 years. Plushies, toys and knick-knacks of different timelines and eras. Adorning the walls were picture frames and posters.

Each picture he looked at were with different cryptids all over the world. The yeti, sasquatch, elves, the kraken, pharoes and various others. Each photo showed the same man posing various styles. Fae don’t age, apparently.

There were a number of pictures with a group of people. Or maybe a small family seeing their features. The three unrecognizable people had white hair, markings underneath their eyes, and their ears were oddly sharpened.

Weirdly enough, Coran also bore the markings and the ears.

The other man in the picture has his arm wrapped around Coran's shoulders, both of them laughing. The two women were trying not to laugh beside them.

A white-haired family with a good family friend. A father, a mother, a daughter, and an uncle-figure.

He felt like he was out of place, so he stepped out of the room. A place where Coran slumbers with peaceful and happy memories.

He walked up to the next door. The door near the fireplace. He had already gone to the one next to the entrance and the door next to the animal heads, respectively.

Lance spared another look at the old man's direction. He was adding more herbs into the cauldron. The witch could easily tell they were cedar, wild mint, and winter green. It turned the liquid into a pastel blue tone, traces of green mixed in.

Hmm. Smells like a scented candle. A really expensive one.

The door creaked open, the dark room lighted upon by the lantern and fireplace outside. The other two rooms were lighted with lanterns and stones acting as bulbs. But this room were devoid of those.

“Dakota,” Lance called. Not a second later, the wolf pup was by his side. “Can you light up the room for me?”

Now, he could easily do so himself. Cast an orb of bright light from the gem stone that hung on a silver necklace. The necklace was hidden underneath his baseball tee so no one would question it. If for some reason, they did; then he’d just tell them it was a gift from his mom and his sisters didn’t want it.

The reason he refuses to use magic was because of that nightmare. He was starting to become paranoid. Maybe if he used his magic to light the room, those figures would walk out of the shadows left untouched by the light.

Luna, help him.

Dakota’s fur glowed a bright, milky white. The light reached a row of shelves, perfectly aligned. “This is quiznacking creepy, Lance,” Dakota backed away with a whine.

The summoner lifted the pup into his arms, scratching the back of his ears. Sure, he wasn’t a cat, but he loved the sensation of it. His small, tense figure relaxed in his owner’s arms, ears twitching in pleasure.

They both ventured into the room, letting the wolf’s light guide him through the room.

Inside the room were many things in storage. But they weren’t like the items he had seen on the shelves in the main room.

Parts of animals were stashed away in preservative jars and clear containers, all with labels scribbled on them. However, these organs and items were not part of any animal he can recognize.

Cyclops tears
Minotaur horn
Ogre’s heart
Siren's voice
Black dog's intestines

Everything about this is so fucked up. Parts. Actual organs and parts were displayed for storage. He takes back what he said about Coran not being able to hurt a fly.

His rogue thoughts plagued his mind. Those heads mounted on the wall as prizes. These parts and organs used for potion making for costumers. Would he make Lance kill innocent non-humans? Or maybe even humans. . . What if Coran likes hunting down witches-

His mind wondered back to the pictures on the walls of his bedroom. Posing with different cryptids and mythological beings. He remembers the sphinx and him laughing. The dwarves that were climbing up his much taller figure. The pixies fluttering around him in glee.

No. Coran was not dangerous. But he can most certainly put up a fight.

“Lance!” he can hear the fae call out for him. He whipped around to look at the empty door frame. Oh thank Luna, he doesn’t know he's here. “Can you come here, I have a few jobs for you.”

He trudged out of the room, shutting the door behind them. He let Dakota jump out of his arms as he approached the fae man. He was putting the brew he made into a few potion bottles before stuffing them all into a brown satchel.

He turned to look at his new assistant. “Hello my boy, hope you found my humble abode comfortable. Not too much on the home aura but it is my home nonetheless.”

Lance shrugged. He hadn’t been to too many non-human homes, actually this was his second. The first being his grandmother’s comfy cabin, tucked away in the deepest parts of the woods.

The house itself was not too special. The only signs of it being a witch’s house was the cauldron on the fireplace, the herbs stashed away on their respective racks, and the crystals on the shelves.

He can still remember the luscious garden outside the small house. The way the moon hung on the sky as he and his grandmother would talk and do magic.

Those were such peaceful days.

“Anyway, your job is simple! I get a lot of tasks from non-humans to help them with the modern day! But I’ve been overworking lately, so I leave you responsible with half the jobs. Don’t worry. I picked up the rather easy ones for you, considering it is your first day on the job.

“The non-humans are to pay you. Do not worry about being cheated out of, just tell them you are my assistant. They know better than to swindle a faery.

“But I do recommend you form a good relationship with your clients. Not only would they ask for you more, but they’ll pay more, too!

“And speaking of pay; every job, excluding delivery of my potions, would all be yours. If you deliver a potion I made to the client, you get half the cut.”

Lance nodded along, taking mental notes of everything the ginger told him. The man handed him a list of jobs to do. Scanning the paper, he found 3 different jobs to do.

“Your summon should know where to go. He can probably snuff out their quintessence from a mile away. Don’t worry, those jobs are mostly out of the city; at the forest or at the nearby lake. You should be safe with using your magic.”

Coran tossed a blue satchel to him, barely catching it. It wasn’t the same satchel Coran stuffed the newly made potions with, it having a light blue leather exterior.

~ ~ ~ ~

“Holy quiznack, it feels so good to be my proper size again!” Dakota yelled into the wind as he sprinted through the dense forest. Crushing leaves and twigs beneath his large paws. “The dryads should be around here, somewhere!”

The witch clutched onto the large wolf as he does through the forest, hugging his neck as he buried a cheek onto the fluffy fur. “Alright. Just keep going, bud!” With those words of encouragement, the summon bolted faster than ever. His footsteps seemingly roared against the forest floor.

Their first job was to assist the dryads, Hamadryads to be exact. Dryads are Nymphs who aid and protect to the forest . Only difference between a regular dryad and a Hamadryad are that Hamadryads are bounded to a single tree.

The only thing written on the list for this job was: Assist the Hamadryads with lulling their bounded tree. Better hope you know how to play!

Play what exactly, Lance had no clue. But he’ll just deal with it when he arrives.

They come to a stop, Dakota sniffing the air. “A nymph is here. On top of a tree, on a branch. She’s watching us. What should we do?”

The wolf gestured to a tall tree in front of him. The top were surrounded by the foliage, covering most of the branches. But two bright, yellow eyes stalked them from above. Bingo.

Lance hopped off his summon, hearing the wolf get into a defensive position. Better be safe than sorry. He looks at the dryad, then waves. “Hey! Coran’s assistant here. You needed help with your bounded tree?”

It took a few seconds of awkward staring before the slim figure jumped down from her hiding place, landing onto the ground with light feet. It almost felt like a gust of wind just hit the ground, her bare feet not crunching any of the leaves below.

She was beautiful. Her pale yellow hair reached the back of her neck, a green dress seemingly made out of leaves showed off her curves and complimented her light green skin. But by the way the brown belt around her waist was secured with unknown items, she could easily be found as a warrior. She looked so human, if a human was combined with a plant.

Eyes glared down the witch and his companion. “Coran sent you. . .?” she looked at him unquestioningly before shrugging. “Very well. A new face is always nice to see around these parts.”

She gestured for them to follow her but the Cuban stopped her from moving forward. “You can ride on Dakota. He can sense the other dryads up ahead and you don’t have to be walking all the way there,” Lance offered with a smile.

The dryad considered it before nodding. “I suppose it is better than wasting my energy.” She walked over the two. Dakota leant forward, letting her hoist herself up.

The dryad is as light as you, Lance. You should eat more, you scrawny twig.

Shut up.

They trotted through the dense forest, the surrounding area growing darker as they trudged forward. The witch can feel eyes burning down from above them, but couldn’t bring himself to look up. He can see that the wolf can sense the stalkers’ eyes, too.

The dryad took notice of their discomfort and alertness. “Do no fret,” she tried to reassure, “Those are just our rangers. They help guide humans away from the tree. In fact, we drive them away before they harm any of the young trees. We allow them to cut down older trees, but it is always a sad sight.”

The Cuban nodded, mustering a small smile. “So, I’m guessing I’ll be going here often. The name's Lance, and this here is Dakota.” The wolf huffed at the mention of his name.

The nymph smiled before nodding. “My name is Micah. I would have definitely sensed someone with such strong quintessence in the city, are you new?”

Lance shrugged, “Moved into the country a couple of weeks ago from Cuba. Wait,” The witch stared at Micah curiously, “you go to the city?”

A chuckle escaped her lips. “Wow, you must be really new. I don’t know what non-humans did at Cuba, but here we blend in with other humans. . . Or we hide away. Whichever is more convenient. But it really depends on the species.”

They reached a part of the forest where they can feel a large group of rangers stalking them from above, observing their every movement. This part was heavily dense and filled with large, thorny shrubs. They stopped in front of them.

“Runaba, we're here.”

Micah’s words seemed to echo through out the forest. At once, the shrubs seemingly moved sideward. The narrow opening revealing a bright enclosure of the forest.

The large clearing of trees gave the sunlight plenty of room to highlight its centerpiece. A large tree stood in the middle, a wide light green trunk with glittering silver leaves. It was like it was pulled out of a book or a videogame.

Dryads in the area gazed curiously at the newcomers. They watched as the three walked towards their bounded tree.

“This is Runaba, our sacred tree. For generations, we have protected him with our lives. We give him offerings and tributes for its longer life. The reason we called you here was because we need you to offer a music offering. See, we don’t exactly have the musical talents of the river nor the sky nymphs. So we beseech for your aid.”

Nodding, Lance grew nervous. He can remember his old high school music elective. That was a trip. They learned different instruments and basic music. The only instruments he pursued after freshmen year was piano, guitar, vocal and –

He reached into the satchel to find a wooden flute. It felt like it was made from natural wood, crafted and polished in a way that it fits perfectly into Lance's hands. Perfect.

He brought the instrument to his lips, taking a deep breath, before playing a song. A song that has engraved onto his brain for years. He tried his best to learn it on every instrument he could hold.

A song his grandmother would him to him every time he felt hurt or sad about family or school. That time Bingo, their pet cat, died. When Rachel blamed him for ruining her school project. That song had always calmed him down.

His melodies were filled with so much longing and nostalgia, happiness and peace. He pours his entire heart and soul into the piece. Dryads stared at the human, feeling the joys and memories this song has brought him. The song reverberated throughout the entire forest, rangers rose from their spots to stare at where the source of such music came from.

And with each passing note, the tree seemed to grow more silver leaves and its branches and roots grew larger by each note.

~ ~  ~

The Cuban's legs dangled off of household’s back as they strolled through the forest. They were heading towards the city bay. It was a local hotspot for college kids to swim in. Its pristine waters and clear surface was enough to bring anyone in. But in this day and age, he doubts that a lot of people visit the body of water, anymore.

The lake was an hour away from where the nymphs were, so Lance had dozed off atop his summon. Who knew playing the flute for 5 minutes could take so much out of you.

Once the lake was in sight, the wolf looked up to see the witch sleeping peacefully on his back. Now, he could just shake him awake or just call out. . . But where was the fun in that?

The wolf started sprinting towards the pristine waters with high-speed. His steps stomped loudly on the dry forest ground. His running figure shook the human awake. “Dakota. . .?” his eyes snapped into attention as he realized what was happening. “DAKOTA!”

Gripping onto the wolf's neck for dear life, he shrilled as the wolf jumped up a rock. The wolf’s paws landed on the lake’s shore. He snickered as he can hear his hyperventilating master. “Enjoy the ride?”

Lance dropped down before his knees gave in, sinking onto the ground in both shock and relief. “. . .Fuck . . . You. . .” The human gripped onto his shirt to help steady his breathing, his heart going 180mph.

After a minute or so, Lance stood up and gained his composure. He glared daggers at the wolf, frustrated. If the wolf could shrug, he'd definitely do so. But Dakota's smug smirk turned into an alert stare as his eyes locked with the lake.

Curious, he spun his head to meet whatever caught his wolf’s attention. They can make out something swimming towards them. It was much larger than a fish, is all Lance could say. But as it drew closer, he can see a blue tail with blue-green fins.

Is. . . Is that. . .

The figure reached the shallow parts of the lake, rising up its upper body. Blue eyes scanned the two, curious and suspicious. A mermaid. They were face to face with a mermaid.

“Uh. . . Coran’s assistant, here!”

She perked up. “Apologies, friends. I was being cautious about your presence. You have such strong and weird quintessence for a human. . .” she eyed the Cuban head to toe. “. . .oddly familiar, in a way.”

The boy tensed, feeling his wolf do the same. “T-that’s why I got the job, miss. . .”

“Plaxum. My friends Blumpfump and Swirn should be here any minute.” She smiled sweetly at the tanned boy.

He pulled out the list from his satchel and scanned it again. Help the mermaids with their trash problem. Give them a good scare and send those heathens running for the hills.

He can hear two other figures swim up to them. He looked up, seeing two other mermaids by plaxum's side.

“Greetings!”
“Yo.”

Lance smiled and waved hello. “It’s nice to meet you guys. I’m Lance and this is Dakota, we’re Coran's newest assistants,” he have a slight pause, “what are we supposed to be doing?”

The only male there, which he assumes is Blumpfump, broke into a grin. “Ah, well you see. . . The lake isn’t this clean for no reason. See, in the city; we’re marine biology students in the local college.”

“We’re the best of the best in our main,” the girl, Swirn, boasted with a smirk.

Plax rolled her eyes, “Obviously.”

“Anyway! We come here every so often to clean the waters. But we learned that every Saturday, a few kids from our college would dump their garbage here,” the merman informed.

“They get pretty annoying. So we want you to scare them away. You can do that, right?” Swirn asked.

The Cuban nodded, “scaring people sounds easy enough. Alright, let’s do this.”

“They usually come at this hour. . . Oh there they are!” Plaxum pointed at the other side of the lake, where a group of teens were dragging their trash. “Stop them, stop them!”

Lance jumped onto Dakota before speeding towards the college students. They used the cover of the trees to hide themselves away. Ideas of what to do swarmed into his mind. But one seemed to be the most practical.

“Alright. Dakota, turn into a normal sized wolf. See if you can intimidate them,” Lance ordered, “I'll make illusions behind you so you’re not alone.”

“Got it.” Dakota said.

They can hear the group's lively chatter grow closer and closer. At a considerable distance, Lance hopped out of Dakota's back and let their plan begin to unfold.

The teens ended up running out of the lake with high pitched screams piercing through the quiet forest, followed by impressed claps and cheers from the merfolk.

~ ~ ~ ~

“Gnomes are always in constant attack. Just kill whatever is bothering them and they'll see you as a hero,” Lance read aloud as Dakota brought him towards their next destination.

He tucked the paper inside his pocket with a hum. “Hey Dakota, you think I should make myself a costume or something? That run in with the teens reminds me that they could recognize me in the city,” he inquired, slightly worried.

The wolf hummed in response. “Why not? We can go to that fabric store near the Curious Curio and buy a few rolls. Knowing you, you’ll choose black and blue.”

The witch shrugged. No use denying it. Those were the colors his grandmother, a fellow lunar witch, used. Why not carry tradition?

They trudged deeper into the forest, Lance contemplating his outfit design as he stared up at the tree foliage above. Never will he sleep on Dakota's back again.

They reached a place where Dakota started sniffing. “Gnomes are always so hard to find. They either live in tree barks, mushrooms or underground,” the wolf complained.

Taking the initiative, Lance sat up and look around. “Hey, we’re Coran's assistants! We’re here to help you with your attackers!” Lance shouted into the empty forest.

It took a few seconds before they can hear something drop in front of them. They looked down, met with a small yellow figure. He held a small dagger, ready to attack the new comers.

“Greetings! I am Klaizap, the arusian tribe's bravest warrior!” he squeezed, “Your Coran's new assistant? A human with weird, strong quintessence?” he eyed the human suspiciously.

Lance nodded slowly. Klaizap hummed. “hmm, clever. Getting such a strong assistant to do your bidding,” he said before turning around, “my people are hiding. The beast lurks north from where I stand. Careful, he is as tall as you!”

Lance took note of his final words before setting off. He can hear the small gnome wish him luck behind him.

The birds have stopped singing. The only sound they can hear were the crunching of leaves beneath the wolf's feet. It felt like they were being watched, stalked behind the tall trees.

Dakota, where is he?

. . . Over there!

A white crescent bow of energy shot to where the wolf’s nose pointed. They can see something in the shadows leap away. White attacks chased down the beast as pinballs of sweat dripped down the witch’s forehead.

It was so much harder to aim at something so fast!

With a loud roar, the beast came running towards them. A boar. A fucking boar as big as him. Red eyes glaring angrily at the witch. Lance shot an energy bow at his direction, slicing the beast in half.

Why was there so much blood?

~ ~ ~ ~

In the end; he got 300 dollars from the dryads, 100 from the mermaids, and the gnomes gave 250. He can say it was worth it. He can say this job was hella worth it.

But as soon as Coran came back to his shop, he was greeted with his two assistants passed out on the ground.

Chapter Text

Darkness. As far as the eyes can see. Lance brought a hand to his face, barely seeing its silhouette. Where was he? What was he doing?

He stood up and waved his hands through the darkness, hoping to find something. Anything. His hands gripped on metal rods. They were smooth, they felt new.

The metal rods started to glow at his touch, showing more that engulfed him in a circle. A cage. He was in a cage. Looking up, he can see the ceiling of his small prison. It was only a few feet of his head. The cage was new, smooth and it for him perfectly.

It was made just for him.

A thin layer of sweat started to form on the back of his neck. “Hello?” he called out, his voice echoing in the endless void surrounding the cage. “Where am I? What’s going on?”

He stared into the darkness, trying to find answers. Not like he was going to find anything, but whatever. It was better than bawling on the metal flooring of the cage he was in. It seemed like a few seconds past before he heard something whisper from just outside the cage.

“Witch…”

The Cuban whipped his head to where he thought he heard the voice, but was greeted with nothing. Around him, the name echoed and repeated; each time seemingly growing louder and closer.

Frightened, he back away into the center of the cage; where he was farthest from the voices. His knees gave in beneath him, the boy crashing down with them. Tears started to stream down as he sees black hands reach out to him from the other sidebar the cage, fitting their way through the bars and swiping the air to try and grab them. They were too far.

Quivering and shaking, he watches the hands scratch onto the cage at such desperate movements. The whispers of that cursed name were almost deafening him.

His head dropped, tears falling onto his lap. He remained like that for a little over half a minute, listening the word repeat back to him and refusing to look up to see the hands scratch onto the metal.

It was when he noticed a line of red glowing in front of him. He blinked away the tears before grasping the long line of light. A string a red glowing string. His gaze followed the rest of it, which led outside.

The hands were gone, and the yells stopped, too. When had they left? Where did they go. . .? Nevermind that, he doesn’t want to know where they are now.

His eyes looked on to see the string coming to an abrupt stop just a few feet away from him. The boy pauses for a second, wondering what the string was doing here.

“WITCH.”

Flames sprouted around him in a vicious circle, trapping the witch even more. Panicking, he stood up with the thread still in hand. He ran to grab one of the bars before backing away. They were too hot. 

“Witch”
“Witch”
“Witch”
“Witch”
“Witch”
“Witch”
“Witch”
“Witch”

“Help!” he called out in the sea of fire as it dreaded closer. The string felt like it was intertwining itself onto slim fingers. He couldn’t pay the thread any mind.

It was getting too hot. He was burning. He was being burned alive.

“HELP!” He shrieked, pure desperation and grief flooding into him. He can’t die. He isn’t supposed to die so young. He was scared. He was afraid to die.

The name echoed throughout the abyss even louder.

“Witch."

He wanted to start crying as the sea of flames were just two feet away from his cage. The only place where he is safe.

“Witch.”

He never asked to be a witch. He never wanted this. He wants to come back home to his family. Tell them his sorry, tell them they were right. Witches were demons.

“Witch.”

He'll be joining the rest of his kind soon. He can see his grandmother again, and meet all kinds of different people with the same disease as him.

“…”

They stopped chanting. The witch looked up, to see the flames burning around him with a slight sizzle. But in front of his cage was a man. He couldn’t see his face, nor any other measures of physical recognition. Just a black suit with a purple tie. He extended a gloved hand toward him.

“You don’t want to die, do you?”

The string was tightening around his wrist, pulling him away from the man who was willing to save him. A tanned hand went through the bars, reaching for the stranger’s hand.

~~~

Blue eyes snapped open, jolting up. His back hit something wooden. A chair. Or at least the back of one. He was sitting down on the desk of his room.

Confused, he looked at the table in front of him. Black and blue fabric scattered around him with various sewing materials.

Oh yeah, he was making his witch uniform. He was already finished so he had dozed off. The sleeves of his shirt were wet and he can feel moisture on his cheeks. He was crying.

Wiping away any stray tears, he looked around him. The costume was scattered on his bed. He doesn’t have work today. . . But he can’t bring himself to sleep.

Where was Dakota? Wasn’t he playing with some stray fabric before he fell asleep? Did he leave the room?

His questions were answered when he finally registered the small furry ball sleeping on the foot of his bed. Oh, he had fallen asleep, too.

He looked back at his work desk. This needs to be cleaned up or else it would bug him until it eventually does. He was about to fix up the sewing materials when he found something wrapped around his left hand. Black string.

For a moment, he thought he saw that same red, glowing thread.

~~~

“I work for Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The rest are technically my day offs unless it’s something really important,” the Cuban informed Keith as they walked down the sidewalk together.

The pale boy hummed in response. “Lucky.” He mumbled, watching the two dogs teasing each other as they walked back to the diner.

The witch raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Oh yeah, where do you work? You seem pretty free everyday. Sunday at the Curious Curio, Monday at the dog park, and now we’re on our way to the diner.”

A laugh escaped Keith's lips. “That's because I don’t have a job.” The Cuban blinked in confusion. “Shiro and Adam usually support me and the Holt family were nice enough to give me an allowance. But it isn’t like I’m not trying, though. I’m still searching for a means to pay off my bills with my own cash.”

They entered the small diner, greeted by a warm smile from Colleen. The two dogs raced past their owners to the same table they ate at yesterday.

BACON AND HAM OMELET. PLEASE!

The witch winced at how loud the wolf telepathically shouted into his mind.Keith spared a worried look before the Cuban brushed it off.

Play it cool or else I’m buying you the veggie burger.

The wolf pup dropped down and started howling while Kosmo just watched him suffer. The dog owners laughed again as they took their seats.

“What's his problem?” Keith asked, amused.

Lance shrugged. “I have no idea. . .”

Lance, I’ll behave! Just get me the omelet, please.

Hmm, I’m not convinced.

I won’t run when you sleep on me anymore!

Deal.

The white pup stopped his agonizing howling and started staring at Lance happily. Kosmo seemed to take the hint and looked at Keith the same way, too.

Their dogs never cease to amaze them.

Lance perks up. “Hey, I’m paying today. It’s only fair. Plus, my job pays great.”

The raven haired boy nodded appreciatively. “Thanks Lance,” he said, a small smile gracing his lips. It dropped when he noticed the malamute staring at Lance the same way he looked at his owner a few moments ago. “Kosmo.”

The witch let out a laugh, stopping when he heard the diner door swinging open. “MOTHER, I REQUIRE SUSTANANCE,” a familiar voice shouted from the doorway.

“Bacon or pancakes?” he can hear Colleen yell back.

“PANCAKES!” The voice answered.

Footsteps were growing closer to their table. “Keith, there you are! I was reading the jersey devil journal when I-“ Pidge stopped as he noticed the second person sitting with her friend.

“Lance?” she raised an eyebrow, “What are you doing here? Did Keith bring you here?”

The man in question smiled. “He brought me here yesterday and treated me, now it’s technically my turn to pay him breakfast.”

The girl looked down and saw Dakota looking up at her curiously, head cocked to the side and tail wagging behind him.

Lance. Lance, look at this.

“Oh! Hey Dakota!" she knelt down and picked up the dog before standing back up. “Are you enjoying the food here? My mom's the best cook, isn’t she? Awww man, you're so cute.”

Worship me, human.

Lance could barely hold in another fit of laughter as he slammed his fist onto the wooden table. Keith stared amusingly from the other side of the table while Pidge glared at the Cuban.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing!”

She rolled her eyes, a smug smile on her face, before putting Dakota back down into the ground with Kosmo. “Anyway, I have to help Matt with something. So imma just grab breakfast and leave. Keith give Lance my number, we're inviting him to Matt's birthday party.”

The Cuban gasped, bowing down. “Me? Invited to a Holt party, I feel so honored.” A crumpled tissue was thrown at his way.

“You seem like a cool person. Plus, Keith's friends are my friends. So if you know anyone else who's chill, bring them to the party. I'd love to meet them.”

Colleen called out for the girl not a second later, leaving the two boys alone with their dogs and food.