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Luz was tired. She’d finally managed to get rid of a teen witch who’d pestered her about a wish Luz couldn’t even remember. The Harrow, however, was full of energy, and wanted to do more. Luz had long since learned how to shut out the Harrow’s voice in her head, but she could still feel it talking.
The young human trudged through her cabin--smaller than her home in the Human Realm, but much better than her cell in the Emperor’s Castle. She chose not to dwell on that memory and entered her room. She kept it rather dark, knowing that the bright colors contrasting the rest of the cabin would hurt her eyes. A pair of eyes that was used to dark, cold colors. She felt around the room before finding what she was looking for. Luz went back to the living room and sat down, reading The Good Witch Azura: Wrath of Dangalf . It was the third book in the series, and Luz’s personal favorite, due to the combined character arcs of Azura and Hecate shining throughout the novel.
Truthfully, Luz wasn’t reading this book to enjoy it. She needed sleep, but wasn’t going to be able to focus on falling asleep and ignoring the Harrow’s grueling voice. Reading was always something that could put Luz to sleep without her even realizing it. Her eyes scanned the pages almost automatically, barely comprehending the words presented to her. She didn’t even register the familiar ping of someone entering her forest until several words of the Harrow stood out.
...Intruder… Coming closer…
She felt herself on the verge of unconsciousness when the door spoke. Wait, doors don’t talk. Someone’s knocking on the door. Luz groggily stood from her chair, a lack of energy making it difficult for her to stay on her two feet. She stared at the door, her vision blurred, waiting for the sound to come again to be sure she wasn’t hallucinating.
The knock came again, more sure of itself than the last one. Luz fought the urge to groan aloud and sunk back into the chair, hiding her book underneath. She then focused her energy and tapped a glyph on her left arm. The sting that accompanied every use of her glyphs once sent a rush of pain throughout her body--Luz had since grown used to it, feeling nothing but a dull flush. The door screeched open, skidding against the floor. With a tap of a glyph hidden underneath the shoulder of her shirt, Luz disappeared.
Alright, Harrow, it’s your turn.
Luz suddenly felt a grim smirk spread across her face. Luz felt that was the best word to describe the Harrow--it wasn’t evil, per se, but it definitely fed some rather brash ideas into Luz’s mind. Nihilistic. Pessimistic. Hopeful and hopeless at the same time. She didn’t quite understand it. It wasn’t like she ever made an effort to understand the Harrow, anyway. It was its own little...thing.
As the door opened, a young man entered--a Hexside student, Luz realized. He wasn’t the first from the school to come to her. Plenty of young kids from the academy came here for whatever strange things kids wish for. Luz was thrown off by it, at first. Back in the Human Realm, if your kid told you that you were meeting some stranger in the woods to have their wish granted, you’d probably tell them that you shouldn’t talk to strangers.
The boy’s uniform was different from any Luz had seen before, however. While his sleeves marked a student of the Oracle track with its deep purple, his leggings appeared red, the trademark color of the Bard track. This was the first uniform like this that Luz could see. He couldn’t be studying more than one magic, could he? As far as Luz knew, that was outlawed when Belos took over.
Her curiosity was piqued. It almost got the better of her before the Harrow reined her in. The boy was, aside from his unique uniform, rather plain. His brown hair was kept in an orderly style, and his skin showed no sign of any imperfections. Needless to say, the Harrow was unimpressed. Far more colorful characters had come into the cabin before. Someone like this was bound to have a generic wish. Probably riches, or whatever teens like nowadays.
What are you, an old man? Luz laughed at the Harrow’s strange thoughts. They were still invisible, and the boy was currently looking around the cabin, taking in the odd sight of it. His gaze lingered on the expensive chandelier overhead. That had been a payment from a middle aged witch who said that their deceased lover had made it for them. It didn’t really suit the cabin, but it definitely suited the Harrow.
“Is anyone home?” Eugh, even his voice is bland. Despite her thoughts, the Harrow took this opportunity to reveal herself. Her voice, anyway.
“Maybe. It depends on who’s asking.” The boy frantically turned in a circle, trying to find where the voice had come from. By the time he’d done a full 360, the Harrow was standing before him, completely visible. He flinched, put off by her menacing appearance. “So, little witch, what brings you here?”
The boy stood in a stunned silence before realizing that she’d spoken to him. “Oh, uh, well, you see--erm, you’re the ‘Harrow’, right? The person who grants wishes?”
“For a price, witchling.” The Harrow wriggled her fingers as she strutted over the wall of picture frames. She pretended to be interested in them as she spoke. “What’s your wish, then?”
“Well, um, there’s this girl at school, and…” The boy trailed off into a story of how wonderful his classmate was. Luz groaned internally. This was not the first time someone had wanted her to play matchmaker. Love seemed to be very different on the Boiling Isles than it was in the Human Realm. Some people treated it as this sacred thing, while so many others were so willing to put their own love life into the hands of someone else. Luz wouldn’t be surprised if she would never come to understand it. The Demon Realm was always throwing her a curveball, no matter what.
“...And while we’re both in the Bard track, it feels like she sees me more as someone who’s still learning the basics, instead of her equal. I wish she would see me that way.” The boy seemed slightly distraught, but neither Luz nor the Harrow cared much about that part.
“Let’s step back a second, boy.” The Harrow wanted to ask the question that was nagging at her mind. Luz’s, as well. “First of all, what’s your name?”
“Uh, Nicholas?” Nicholas phrased it almost like a question. The Harrow ignored that.
“Right. So, Nicholas, you say you’re in the Bard track. Last I heard, its color was exclusively red. What’s with the... unusual uniform?”
Nicholas blinked a couple times before realizing what she was talking about. “Oh! Well, a couple weeks ago, there was some incident at school involving a Greater Basilisk, but the Detention students totally kicked its butt using multiple kinds of magic, so Principal Bump started letting kids study more than one track. I’m in the Oracle track, as well.”
That was surprising. A Greater Basilisk was no joke among demons, and Luz found it hard to believe that a bunch of kids (Detention kids, no less) were able to defeat it before it ate all the magic in the school. I definitely need to meet those kids, she thought.
“Fascinating…” The Harrow muttered. There was also the issue of what Belos thought about that, but she couldn’t care less about him. It was time to get to the task at hand. “So, your wish is love, hm? Sounds easy enough.”
A slight blush spread across Nicholas’s cheeks. “N-no, it isn’t! I don’t want Skara to fall in love with me, I just want her to realize that I’m not as weak as I used to be…” He trailed off awkwardly, put off by the Harrow’s comment. The Harrow couldn’t really tell the difference. And given his reaction, there’s likely some underlying feelings there. Not one to pry, the Harrow let the topic die and moved on.
“Well, whatever that is, you understand that this isn’t free, right? I do charge a small fee.” The Harrow gave Nicholas an expectant look, who, once again, seemed to space out before snapping back to reality.
“R-right, I heard about that. Here.” The boy unshouldered his backpack and opened it. From it, he pulled what Luz could only describe as the most perfect sapphire she’s ever seen. It reflected the chandelier’s light perfectly, spreading a blue glow throughout the cabin. “This gemstone has acted as my family’s heirloom for generations. It dates back to before Emperor Belos came into power. My ancestors supposedly used it as a conduit for rituals. Big ones. We call it the Dragonstone.”
One of the Harrow’s eyebrows quirked up. “Forgive me if this seems rude, but it seems rather insensitive to use such a meaningful treasure for a wish like… yours.” Despite the comment, this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Many witches, especially the younger ones, seemed to have no qualms with giving up artifacts that are important to their family name. It was strange, but their wishes usually matched the value of the wish. This one was rather… anticlimactic. “Do your parents even know you have that?”
Nicholas’s eyes were quickly downcast, and the Harrow could practically feel the air change around them. That’s what I get for asking questions…
“I’m actually the last son of my family. My current guardians adopted me after a fire killed my parents.” His gaze shifted to the gem. “Also, the rituals that my ancestors used this for were usually meant to torment other people. I guess we hung onto it to brag about once being powerful witches.”
“Does that mean that this gem holds no sentimental value to you?”
The young witch was suddenly angered at the comment. “Of course it does! Why else would I--” Nicholas stopped mid-sentence, realizing he’d just yelled at the very person he was trying to enlist. “I… My parents gave this to me during the fire. They told me to take it and run. That it’d save my life one day.”
The Harrow very carefully approached Nicholas before taking the Dragonstone into her own hands. It was much heavier than it looked, and she almost felt intimidated by the power she felt inside of it. It’s a wonder Belos never got his hands on this thing.
“Very well, Nicholas. I’ll accept this as payment. Now, I can’t automatically make this ‘Skara’ notice you--not on my own, anyway.” The Harrow’s grim smirk had returned. “Give me three days time, and you will have your opportunity.”
Nicholas stared at her, wide-eyed. “R-really?” His own smile grew. “Th-thank you so much! I’ll be sure that I don’t waste the chance you’ll give me.” He bowed to her before making for the door. He opened the door, then paused and looked back. “Thank you, again, Miss Harrow.” In an instant, the door was closed, and the Harrow was left on her own, intrigued.
“This one will be fun.”
Nicholas was anxious. Stressed. Absolutely 100% terrified. In the moment, he’d been happy to hear that his chance to impress Skara would come soon. It wasn’t until the next morning when he realized that the Harrow had never explained what her plan really was. So when dawn of the third day had rolled around, he cursed himself for never going back to ask.
As he walked to school, he thought about the Harrow’s comment when he went to make his wish. Your wish is love, hm? While he’d been quick to deny the accusation, he would’ve been lying to say that there were no underlying feelings for his fellow Bard. But love wasn’t his plan right now--Skara currently treated him like she did when the two of them were children. Which meant that she was always guiding him through the homework, telling him what he did wrong, and giving him works of encouragement.
Truth be told, though, Nicholas wasn’t sure if he could handle another ‘I know you’ll get it soon’ from her. Even if it hadn’t really been on purpose, the constant down-talking did not do wonders for his self-confidence. There were times when Nicholas would go days feeling like he was the worst witch ever--claims his other friends were quick to dispute. Even with their kindness, it would be hard to cheer him up.
Eventually, Nicholas came to the dreaded class. Now, Bard magic was fun, but Nicholas found he wasn’t sure if he should even go in, with the dark cloud that hung over his head. He stared at the door for a little bit before slapping himself on the cheeks.
“Moping isn’t going to get you anywhere, Nicholas! Today, you’re going to get your chance to impress Skara. You gave up the Dragonstone for this, for Titan’s sake! This is your opportunity!”
“Opportunity for what?”
Skara’s voice made Nicholas’s skeleton jump out of his skin. He turned around quickly in full panic mode. “O-opportunity to do some amazing magic, that’s what! Heh heh…” He rubbed the back of his neck as Skara stared at him, slightly puzzled. Beside her stood her regular friend group--the elites of Hexside, Amity Blight and Boscha… What was her last name?
“Well, alright, then. This is me, you two. I’ll see you at lunch!” Skara waved the other two witches goodbye before returning her attention to Nicholas. “Shall we?” She motioned to the door. Nicholas, still surprised, only nodded his head before opening the door for Skara.
The next few moments happened in a blur. Well, Nicholas wasn’t really comprehending the things happening around him, so it really only felt like a blur. He’d pretty much tuned out of reality while thinking of how he’s going to screw up whatever happens today until the teacher began talking.
“Now, class, I know you’re all excited to continue working on your final projects, but today we have a wonderful opportunity for all of you.” Nicholas suddenly began listening to whatever the teacher was saying with the most concentration he’s ever put into anything.
“Today, a member from the Bard Coven will be coming to teach a special lesson! I hope you all have your instruments, because you’ll definitely need them for this.” The teacher then spoke towards the door. “You can come in, now, Miss Noceda!”
The door suddenly flew open as a foot stuck out from the doorway. Clearly, this ‘Miss Noceda’ had just kicked it down. It was already easy to tell they were a Bard. As she strut into the room, the air around her changed from ‘surprise lesson for school’ to ‘this is going to be the coolest thing you see all day’. Her long, brown hair flowed into a braid behind her back, covering her ears. A violet cape glided in her trail, almost like a pair of wings. If her confidence, presentation, and style weren’t any indication, the vibrant crimson of her uniform was enough to give it away. Nicholas was pretty sure he could almost hear background music playing. However, there was a much more important matter for him to think about. There was something about Miss Noceda that felt… familiar, to him. His suspicions were only solidified as fact when she started talking.
“Students of Hexside School of Magic and Demonics, I am Luz Noceda, member of the Bard Coven! Protocol asks you all to call me ‘Miss Noceda’, but if I hear a single one of you call me that, I will feed you to my pet Basilisk, got it?”
Already, the murmurs and whispers had begun to flow around the classroom. No one had ever heard of someone from the Bard Coven named Luz, but this woman clearly carried herself in a way that would make people think she was the queen of everything. She definitely was a Bard, that’s for sure.
Not to Nicholas, though. To Nicholas, this was the very person he’d gone to three nights ago to inquire about a wish. The Harrow stood before his class, blatantly lying about her identity. His brain had all but malfunctioned as he struggled to figure out why-- how --she was here. It then occurred to him that she’d never really said how his ‘opportunity’ would present itself. Was this her plan from the beginning? That was impressive, to say the least.
“Now, normally I wouldn’t do something like this during school hours, but the walls are supposedly soundproofed, so we’re going to have some fun today. We’re going to be doing…” The lights suddenly went out, then turned on once more after a few seconds. The front of the classroom now featured a large stage, and Luz was sitting in front of a grand piano. Her smirk had grown into a full-on grin.
“Bard Battles.”
Nicholas blinked. Bard Battle? What’s that, some kind of witches duel?
“What’s that, some kind of witches duel?” Skara apparently had the same question, but was able to voice it due to the fact that Nicholas was still reeling from the fact that the Harrow was right there, and nobody suspected anything. Though Luz had looked hurt at the comment, she didn’t seem surprised.
“Alright, so maybe I’m still trying to get that name patented… And the actual concept approved by the Coven… But I promise that it’ll be the most exciting thing you do for the next twenty-four hours, or you get a full refund!” She played a couple notes on her piano.
“But, we didn’t… Pay…” Skara seemed to be the voice of the audience.
“Anyway, a Bard Battle is a simple concept. It’s pretty much a witches duel, except instead of trying to physically injure your opponent, you’ll be wounding their pride instead! Sounds fun already, right?” Nicholas had to admit--there were some people he thought deserved to be knocked down several pegs. Luz continued speaking.
“Two Bards come together on stage with their instruments and take turns playing along to the tune. Whoever can put on the most dazzling performance wins! Which means that this duel…?” She motioned towards the class, waiting for someone to read her mind. Most witches might not have been able to, but Nicholas was also on the Oracle track. He knew what Luz was looking for.
“...Is judged by the audience, rather than the two witches fighting.”
A beaming smile crossed Luz’s face. “Exactly, my friend! Think of it less as embarrassing your opponent, and more like dazzling the audience!” She quickly scanned the room. “Now, I see we have an odd number of students here, so… You there, boy! What’s your name?”
Her finger was pointing directly to Nicholas. All eyes in the classroom turned towards him. “Uh, m-me?” It was a rhetorical question, because there was no one in the seat behind him.
“Yes, you, kid! Come on up here, and bring your instrument!” The Harrow--Miss Noceda’s-- Luz ’s voice was so commanding that Nicholas found himself standing up before his brain registered it. He reached into his backpack and pulled out his preferred instrument. He slowly strutted up to stage as the Harrow gave him a knowing look. That was when he realized.
Are you kidding me? This is my opportunity? Is she going to purposely lose the fight to make me look good? His steps toward the stage had grown smaller, but as he gazed back, hoping for a way out, he saw Skara giving him an encouraging look. You got this, it told him.
Nicholas took a deep breath as he quickened his pace once more, steeling his nerves. The Harrow looked on with a smug expression, as if entertained by that little display.
“The bagpipes, huh? You’ve got style, kid, that’s for sure.” Whether her words were genuine or sarcastic, Nicholas couldn’t tell. At this point, however, he refused to let that bother him at this point. “What’s your name?”
“Erm, Nicholas.” The Harrow gave a quick nod as he spoke. All too soon, he’d arrived at his designated spot next to the Harrow and turned around. He basically forced himself to look out to the sea of witches before him. Even if they weren’t, it felt like he was being judged by every single pair of eyes he could see. The Harrow’s next words barely registered in his mind.
“How a Bard Battle works is simple. One bard provides us with a rhythm, as simple or complex as they like, and the two bards that are dueling will take turns playing along. Play whatever genre, style, tempo you prefer, because none of that is as important as...” She played a quick-paced melody on her piano. As she played, notes came streaming out of the keys and swiftly turned into a group of dancers behind her. The dancers swung around each other, feet barely touching the ground as they swayed, swiveled and stepped to the song. Lights came on behind them, and for a moment, it felt like this little performance was all that was happening in the world.
As quickly as it started, it soon ended. The dancers took a bow before their magic flowed back into the piano.
“...Presentation.”
The room erupted into a sea of sound, the students clapping and cheering for the Harrow. In one fell swoop, she’d grabbed the attention of everyone in the room. Even the professor, a retired member of the Bard Coven, was impressed. Nicholas clapped as well, if only to ease the sudden anxiety surging through his body.
Thankfully, the Harrow seemed to notice his sudden apprehension, and spoke once more. “A word of advice before we start, Nicholas--and this goes for all you children--your instrument is not a tool. It is not a set of bagpipes, and it is most certainly not an instrument. These--” She fiercely grabbed the bagpipes, threatening to break them. “--Are you. They are a part of you, and are just the same as an arm or a leg. As you get used to the beat of the song, your heart will beat along with it, meaning the magic in your bile sac will begin to flow with the rhythm of the song, as well. This will only happen if you allow it to happen. If you treat your instrument as anything other than a body part, then you will never stand a chance as a bard.”
Most of the children had heard some variation of that explanation before, but the way Luz spoke made it feel like the words suddenly had meaning. Almost as if it suddenly clicked in their heads. It certainly did in Nicholas’s. With Luz’s words fresh in his mind, he gazed at his bagpipes, looking at them in a new way.
“With that out of the way, are you ready to start, Nicholas?” The Harrow now looked at him for confirmation. He gulped before nodding, getting his bagpipes in a ready position. The Harrow’s smile grew.
“Then, Teach, do you mind giving us some accompaniment?” The professor nodded before summoning her own instrument--a rather impressive drum set. It didn’t really fit the style the teacher usually gave off, but it certainly fit the tone Miss Noceda had set for the scene. She gave a quick count off before starting a beat.
Without waiting, Luz’s hands began to fly across the keys, summoning the magic within. The very same dancers had suddenly appeared, clapping their hands, stomping their feet, and moving their bodies. It was mesmerizing, the way they moved--no one in the audience could look away from the bright colors.
If Nicholas had to put the spectacle into words, only one came to mind; unchallengeable. This was unlike any use of magic he’d seen before. Where on the Isles had the Harrow gotten the idea for this? It was crazy, unheard of, it was…
Amazing.
The sound of the piano soon faded, though the beat continued. All eyes, even the dancers’, turned to Nicholas, and he realized it was his turn. He brought the bagpipes up to his mouth, and he found that the Harrow was right. He could feel his heart beating along to the hits of the teacher’s drums, and the magic from his bile sac pumping out of his body and into his instrument. He then heard a voice in his head.
This is your opportunity, boy. Do not waste it. He could almost hear the wink at the end of that sentence. The Harrow’s trademark smirk sat on her face as she looked at Nicholas expectantly. Without wanting to make the audience wait any longer, he played.
The first few notes were rough. It had been a little while since Nicholas really played, but he was experienced enough that the rust was soon shaken off. Though it wasn’t as enthusiastic as the Harrow’s tune, he tried to match the same tone she had. The dancers quickly picked up on what Nicholas was going for and moved along with him. Thanks to his legs being free, he found his body being moved along with the magic. Rather than feeling like it was forced, though, it felt natural. It felt like water moving through a winding river, adapting to any rock, stick, or twist or turns that there may be in its path.
Nicholas soon felt that his turn was ending, and he allowed the bagpipes to fade. Quickly, Luz’s piano picked up, faster than before. Nicholas saw members of the audience bouncing along, cheering whenever Luz would play an especially impressive tune. The two of them began to trade blows in a similar way--the Harrow would up the intensity, and Nicholas would fight to match it. This really is a battle.
He eventually noticed that Luz was getting more cheers than himself. Though he was trying his best, the tone of the music was something that Nicholas wasn’t used to playing. The confidence that sprouted from him at the beginning of the duel began to fade, and he could feel his enthusiasm slipping away from him. He then heard the Harrow’s voice in his head once more.
Look at the audience, boy. What do you see?
Following his instructions, Nicholas looked out. Though he tried to look at the audience as a whole, his eyes instinctively fell on one witch in particular. Skara. She sat in her seat with anticipation, clearly enjoying the display before her. He looked at her eyes, and she looked at his. It was as if she was sending her own message to him, but it was different from the way the Harrow did it. This felt… personal.
You’re doing amazing!
The words, simple as they were, sent a new rush of determination through Nicholas’s body, along with the magic flowing through him. An idea came to him. If he wanted to win this, then he’d need to play to his own favor.
As his final turn came about, Nicholas switched gears. The tone of the song had shifted, and he could feel all eyes widen at the fluidity of the change. The dancers cheered and immediately changed their own style to fit with the song. Their movements, along with Nicholas had suddenly turned into a full on concert, complete with the immediate applause from the class. The room broke out into a mess of music, dancing and cheering, the spectacular performance unlike anything any of the witches there had ever seen. Luz soon joined in with Nicholas, the two of them playing in perfect sync. No one had even noticed Principal Bump open the door, then promptly shut it to let the students finish whatever they were doing. Bards…
Eventually, the music died, and the magic faded with it. After a beat of silence, the room exploded in cheering, the students applauding both participants of the Bard Battle. Regardless of whether the name was patented or not, the kids here would definitely make it well known among themselves.
It was also apparent who had won this Bard Battle. When Nicholas saw the Harrow clapping as well, he realized that he’d won. Everyone was clapping for him . He looked towards Skara, who was clapping with enough intensity and energy to get her through ten nights of magic. A huge smile was strewn across his face, and he realized that his wish had come true.
Later that night, Nicholas was thinking about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t gone to the Harrow for that wish. He would likely still be moping around, depressed that the witch he always looked up to would never recognize him for who he truly was. If he hadn’t given the Harrow the Dragonstone, Nicholas would probably be in a very different position right now.
That’s when it occurred to him. His parents' words when they gave him the Dragonstone. This gem will save your life one day, Nicholas. Protect it with your life. Well, that second part probably wouldn’t have worked out in the end, but Nicholas had left school feeling reborn, in a way. Perhaps his life was saved.
And he had his parents, Skara, and the Harrow to thank for that.
Three months later…
“Wait, so that was you who was causing all the noise in that wing of the school?” When Amity had gone to visit Luz that day, she told the human about how Skara had invited them to see a ‘Bard Battle’, whatever that was. Luz then recalled the wish that had led to her creating the entire concept of Bard Battles and promptly told Amity the story.
Luz winced. “That was me, alright. Was it that loud?”
Amity laughed. “I had to help some kid to the healer’s office, and we passed by. With all the sound coming from that one classroom, it felt like you were trying to shake the entire building down to the ground.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault Bard Battles can get so intense!” A pointed look from Amity told Luz that she was wrong. “Okay, maybe it is my fault, since I basically invented them, but that kid’s also to blame! If he hadn’t come to me for the wish in the first place, then none of that would've happened. Then again, I was already kind of thinking about how a battle of the bands would work in the Demon Realm…”
The two of them fell into a comfortable silence, sitting closely cuddled on Luz’s new couch. She was vague on how she got it, but Amity wasn’t one to complain about anything that would give her more room to hug her girlfriend. A question then came to her mind.
“Luz, do you still have that gemstone?” There were a few beats before Luz spoke.
“Yeah.” Her voice was quiet, and almost held a bit of guilt behind it. She pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and drew a small glyph on it. The glyphs that once scarred her body were completely gone, so Luz now had to rely on materials such as these to cast spells. With a tap of her finger, the paper slowly morphed into a portal. Luz reached into it, rummaged around, and pulled out the Dragonstone.
The gem was enchanting, Amity felt. She’d heard legends of the Dragonstone and how it was used during the Savage Ages, but never had the opportunity of seeing it. Ironic, how a once powerful artifact was now hidden away in a dump of a cabin.
“I don’t know why I still have this,” Luz said, “or why I even took in the first place. That kid said this was a precious family heirloom. I feel bad for it being stuck here .”
Amity placed a hand on Luz’s shoulder. This sort of thing happened often--Luz would have some random thoughts about her time as the Harrow, and then felt bad for hours at a time about how she heartlessly took people’s most prized possessions.
“Kids often don’t have as big of an idea about something’s worth as adults do. While his parents may have seen a treasure that represented who they were, the kid probably saw just another magical tool. Something superficial he could use to get what he felt was more valuable.”
“Is it, though? His parents died giving this to him, Amity. Is one of the last memories of your family really worth less than the attention of some girl?” Luz was already pretty deep in her depressing thoughts. Considering how much the human joked when Amity was depressed, she figured she’d try it, too.
“Well, I can’t speak for that kid, but I’d give up everything my parents give me just to see you for a few minutes.”
It was quiet, and Amity was worried that it didn’t work, but Luz soon snorted and giggled. “Of course you would. That’s why I love you, you know.”
Amity’s heart fluttered at that. She smiled, happy that her little attempt at humor had worked, even if it was a little cheesy. “I love you too, Luz.”
The two of them sat on the couch in the same position, thoughts on each other, and what they would do to make their wish of being together forever come true.