Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

There was something off about being in such a young body again, tiny and seemingly fragile with its youth. Your hands were still calloused, though, and the experiences you had gone through still were evident through the visible scars scattered throughout your body.

While you were busy getting used to a smaller frame, Crowley was still prattling on and on about not being able to throw a poor, defenceless teenager out into the cold and cruel world. What a nice man. His charity was wasted on you, however, as—

“Mister Crowley,” you spoke up, interrupting Crowley in his long and, frankly, pointless self-praise. “I am not a teenager nor am I a child.”

Crowley paused for a moment, squinted at you in doubt. You couldn’t blame him; you wouldn’t believe yourself either.

“If you can believe in interdimensional travel, surely you’d be able to believe in a de-aging curse,” you continued mildly. “Are we not in a world of magic?”

You could see Crowley slowly coming around. You wondered if this was the moment where he’d put away the mask of an altruistic fool.  

“Still,” Crowley said. “It would reflect badly on Night Raven Academy if I were to throw you out like this. Tell you what, there is an empty dormitory in the school that you can stay in until we find a way to send you back.”

Truthfully, you weren’t too keen on the idea of returning to your world. That, however, did not mean that you were willing to take the man’s goodwill without question. Who knew what sort of strings were attached?

“And what do I have to do in exchange?”

Crowley blinked. “Pardon?”

“What do I have to do in exchange for lodging?” you asked again. “And food as well, I suppose.” While you were confident in your hunting ability, you weren’t going to pass up on an easier way to procure food.

Crowley made a large show of thinking, bringing one of his clawed fingers up to tap at his chin. His yellow eyes, visible only as an unsettling pair of glowing yellow orbs, surveyed you for a moment, taking in your appearance and calculating your worth. Finally, he spoke.

“It just so happens that our school is lacking a handyman,” Crowley said. “So how about this: in exchange for lodging and meals, as well as access to the library to find a way to return yourself home, you will act as the school’s handyman.”

That wasn’t too bad. You had expected worse. You had encountered worse.

You wondered if you could push a little further.

“Will I be receiving a salary?” you asked. “Or will payment only be in the form of lodging and food? What are my responsibilities as a handyman? If this world runs on magic, will I be expected to repair magical items? Are there manuals that I can read? What are the rules of this academy? Do you have a set of standard operating procedures?”

Crowley took a step back. You took a step forward.

“Let’s set up a written contract, shall we? So that I have something to refer to.”

-o-

All things considered, the dorm Crowley led you to was pretty inhabitable. There was running water and a working door, at the very least. It was much better than the places you’d had to live in before and this time you weren’t under the threat of pursuit so you had the time, and maybe even the resources, to turn the place into something more hospitable.

To be honest, you had completely expected yourself to be thrown out of the academy — had been banking on that, actually — but here you were with a contract, a salary, a fresh change of clothes, and a working phone that allowed you to consult the internet for Handy Tips and Tricks to fix magical items.

The first thing you did upon entering the dorm was to secure all entrances and exits, unable to let your guard down until you were sure that nothing could get in.

You started with the ground floor, finding a half-rusted but still working padlock to seal the front doors before proceeding to seal up windows that could not be closed, and by the time you had worked your way up into the attic, it was already well into the night.

Returning to the first floor made you aware of a persistent knocking coming from the front doors. You quickly scanned the room and picked up a loose piece of plywood. It wasn’t the sturdy metal crowbar you were used to but it would be enough.

“Who is it?” you called out.

“It’s me,” the voice of Crowley called out. “I have graciously come to bring you supper in the pouring rain.”

There was an awning over the main entrance of the dorm so you didn’t feel too bad in making him wait. You had a phone. He could have called.

You set aside the plywood to free up your hands and detached the padlock key from where you had strung it around your neck.

“Hello,” you greeted Crowley, stepping aside to let him in. “You could have tried to reach my through the phone.” You noted the way his gaze, difficult as it was to discern, flickered to the plywood for a fraction of a second. He didn’t say anything about it, though, so you didn’t either.

“It appears that you’ve started on the dorm.” Crowley said, ignoring your comment. You shut the door behind him and made sure to lock it before picking up the plywood piece. You felt Crowley’s eyes on you as you followed him into the main hall.

“Yes,” you replied. “There are a lot of useful materials lying around for a quick fix but if you truly want me to make the dorm inhabitable again, I need a lot more than just loose plywood and some nails. As it is, the first and second floors are salvageable but the third floor, as well as the attic, have been sealed shut due to safety issues. You should only open them up when you’ve decided to move forward with repairs.”

“You are rather resourceful,” Crowley said. He placed the bag in his hands on a nearby table that you had recently cleaned. “You should eat and get some rest! I’ll be back bright and early tomorrow to start you on your duties.”

“Thank you,” you replied. You touched the bag and noticed that it was still piping hot despite the time Crowley had most definitely spent outside in the rain. Was it magic, perhaps? “Thank you,” you repeated yourself. “I deeply appreciate everything that you have done for me. I’ll do my best not to let you down.”

“I know.” You had the oddest image in your mind’s eye of a bird puffing its feathers up. “You are the handyman I hired, after all.” He continued to extol about his virtuous benevolence and foresight but a strange creaking sound quickly drew your attention away. You quickly pinpointed it to be coming from above and your body immediately moved before your brain could even process anything, tackling Crowley to the side just as the chandelier above your heads came crashing down.^[1] Crowley was suddenly quiet and still beneath you. A brief glance at him confirmed that he was alive and unharmed so you paid him no further notice as you quickly pushed yourself to your feet, eyes scanning the room around you.

“You…”

“Headmaster, be on high alert. The chandelier was well-secured when I first entered; there might have been something — or someone — who sabotaged it.” You felt adrenaline coursing through you, your mind hyper-focusing on every movement, every sound. The fact that you hadn’t noticed that another person had been in the dorm the entire time chilled you to the bone. They must be good at covering up their tracks; the entire house had been caked in a thick layer of dust that seemed completely untouched and undisturbed before you got to it. They could only have started moving around after you began cleaning up the place, which meant that they were in the dormitory long before you arrived. Perhaps they moved through the crawlspace between the walls? Some old houses had those.

A sharp call of your name brought your attention back to Crowley.

“You’re injured,” he said. He had already gotten himself off the floor and was making his way towards you, gesturing to your leg. You looked down to see the fabric of your right pants leg slowly darkening with blood. Hm.

“A wound probably reopened. It’s fine, I’ll deal with it after we find the saboteur.” Now that you were aware of it, the wound brought along a low hum of pain that you ignored easily. A rustling sound to your left found you instinctively placing yourself between it and Crowley.

“That won’t be needed,” Crowley said. He voice was low and serious, nothing like the strange and overdramatized manner he usually donned. “That’s enough. Show yourselves.”

In less than a second, three strange white forms manifested in front of you. Their appearance greatly resembled that of ghosts from some cartoon you had watched a long time ago and the shock was almost enough to make you drop your weapon. Almost.

You immediately swung the plywood at the nearest… thing before you could even process what it was. Before the plywood could hit, however, you were quickly restrained by Crowley. You subconsciously noted that one of his hands was large enough to envelope both of your wrists and his grip was strong enough that you couldn’t break free. You glanced at his face and immediately froze at the way he was looking at the three white forms. For a brief moment, you felt that you had finally caught a glimpse of what this man truly was, the face beneath the jester’s mask, and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

Danger, you mind screamed at you. Every single cell of your body registered the man as a creature not to be trifled with.

“It seems that I have forgotten to tell you that there are some mischievous ghosts living in the dorms,” Crowley said. “I hope they won’t be too much of a problem?”

You felt that his question was less for you and more for the… ghosts in front of you. You still shook your head, however, and tried to remove yourself from his grasp. He easily released you and you instantly took a few steps away, putting distance between the both of you.

“It would have been nice to know about my roommates beforehand,” you said mildly. Crowley dipped his head forwards.

“An oversight on my part. My apologies.”

“Sorry!” one of the ghosts flew closer to you. You pushed down your knee-jerk reaction to take a swing at their head. “We were sure that the headmaster would use magic to shield you from the chandelier; we promise we don’t mean any harm!”

“Yeah!” another ghost nodded along. “We just like playing pranks! We don’t hurt people!”

You eyed the large hole in the floor the chandelier had made. “…right.” Already you were calculating how to patch up the hole in the floor. You didn’t have much wood left after boarding up the broken windows above the second floor; perhaps you could take the furniture from the third floor — the ones that weren’t too damaged by time — and arrange them around the hold to cordon It off until you could get it fixed?

“Don’t worry about that.” Crowley raised his key-shaped cane and you were instantly treated to the sight of the chandelier rising back to the ceiling, as well as the floorboards repairing themselves. You briefly lost your composure, staring at the scene with wide eyes and an open mouth. While the blue flames that the weird cat creature had unleashed on you and the students in the hall were odd, you had seen similar feats before; however, you had never experienced anything quite like this — what basically seemed like the rewinding of time in a localized area — and it truly drove home the fact that you were in a completely different world.

“That’s… convenient,” you managed to choke out in the end.

“It’s nothing,” Crowley said dismissively. You wanted to grab his shoulders and shake vigorously. Nothing? This was nothing?! “Now, let us see to your injury.”

You felt your hackles rise. “I’m fine,” the words tumbled out of your mouth with speed. “I can deal with it.

“Absolutely not,” Crowley pushed. “The amount of blood soaking through your clothes is simply staggering. Medical expertise is required if you do not wish for your wound to become infected!”

You faltered. Loathe as you were to show your weakness to someone else, you had to admit that he was right. You weren’t carrying your usual supplies with you — having woken up with nothing but the clothes on your back plus an additional cloak you had never seen before — and hence had no way to properly treat and bandage your wound.

“Are you going to be using magic for that?” You tried your best to keep your voice neutral. To your relief, Crowley shook his head.

“We will be going to the school infirmary to have the wound looked at by a professional,” Crowley said. You bit back your protests and suppressed a flinch when Crowley pointed a cane at you. A cold sensation bloomed across the back of your leg and covered your wound. It wasn’t unpleasant, more akin to a cool towel applied to the skin than anything, and it muted the pain by a significant amount.

You didn’t like it.

“Let us be off then,” Crowley said, holding his arm out to you. After a heavy helping of hesitation, you eventually reached out to take it and Crowley led you back to the school campus.

-o-

The ‘professional’ Crowley referred to turned out to be another ghost.^[2] You supposed that you had to accept ghosts as a viable source of labour in this world, although it was rather distressing that the chains of capitalism still wrapped around people even after death.

The materials of your pants was elastic and stretchable enough that you were able to pull it up to your knee, revealing a long and horrid gash spanning from your ankle to the back of your knee, narrowly missing your Achilles tendon. The school doctor made a face at your wound but said nothing as he gave stitched it up and bandaged it.

“To be injured on the first day of school,” he shook his head. “That opening ceremony was truly something.” You realized that the doctor had come to the incorrect conclusion that you had been injured during the chaotic entrance ceremony. You didn’t correct him. “Now, are there more injuries I have to worry about?” the doctor joked. You were about to shake your head ‘no’ but you paused. Most of your injuries had already scabbed over and five years in an apocalypse^[3] severely changed your opinion on just what sort of wounds required professional medical attention.

Crowley got your attention with a cautious call of your name. “Are you suffering from any more injuries?”

“No,” you decided.

Both Crowley and the school doctor were looking at you with sceptical eyes. You stared back with all the audacity in the world. Eventually, they had to look away, unable to treat your injuries if you refused to consent to treatment.

“If you are certain,” Crowley said. “Now, let me walk you back. The hour is late and I can hardly let a defenceless young man like yourself make the long trek back alone. I am such a kind and caring headmaster!”

Seeing that he was back to his flamboyant self, you couldn’t help but release some of the tension in your body. The strange and oppressive air around him was finally gone. Perhaps you should have felt a heightened sense of alert due to this; a dangerous person who was able to lull the people around them into a false sense of alert was definitely someone to be wary of, but you were already feeling the adrenaline seeping out of your system with exhaustion taking its place.

“Yes,” you agreed. “You truly are the kindest of them all.”

-o-

The next day found yourself assigned to clean Main Street, an area stretching from the library to the main gate of the school campus. You decided to start with the library instead of the main gate, believing that no student in their right mind would visit the library on their first day of school. And you were right! Most of the students travelled near the main gates of the school where seven stone statues were proudly displayed. You had yet to have the chance to see them up close but you were pretty sure that they were popular villain characters from the D*sney franchise.

You took your time sweeping the area outside the library, waiting for the students to be in class before you started on the other side of Main Street as you didn’t want to navigate the intricacies of sweeping around people so early in the morning.

As you busied yourself with your work, a commotion near the statues caught your attention. You paused for a moment, squinting at the crowd to see a student face off against… an animal?^[1.5] Those blue flames were the same ones the cat creature from the entrance ceremony had used so you supposed that was the animal (?) the student was fighting. A small group had gathered around the battle, cutting off your line of sight, and you quickly decided that it wasn’t your problem. The student seemed to be holding his own anyway and you were a janitor, not a teacher.

You turned your back on the commotion and resumed your sweeping.

-o-

The alchemy professor, Divus Crewel, had kindly bestowed upon you a set of lab gear, along with a brand-new set of the school uniform, when you dropped by his class and offered to help him clean the cauldrons.

The cleaning of Main Street took up a lot less time than you had estimated, even with having to scrub the charr off of a marble statue, leaving you to wander aimlessly across the school grounds in search for work. Eventually, you made your way into the campus buildings and introduced yourself to a few of the teaching staff, offering your handyman services in the process. Crewel was the fourth teacher you had come across and, judging by the number of used cauldrons in the class, probably the last teacher you’d meet today.

“You look much better in this,” Crewel said. “Leagues better than the tattered and completely unpresentable clothes you had on before.”

You had been wearing the old set of gym clothing that Crowley handed to you as part of your employment package. It was clearly second-hand, fraying at the seams, and completely oversized on your frame. It was also better than the clothes you had been wearing, so you had taken it without complaint.

“Thank you, Mister Crewel,” you said, adjusting the lab goggles so that they were properly situated over your face; the cauldrons were filled with an ominously shimmering green liquid and you wanted to make sure that there was no chance it would get into contact with your eyes. Or any of your orifices. You heard that there was a general shop on the school grounds; perhaps you should invest in a mask? It would definitely come in handy when you finally muster up the willpower to tackle the dustier and possibly mouldy upper floors of the dorm.

“You may refer to me as Master Crewel,” Crewel said, tilting your head up with the end of his pointer.

“…yeah no, no thanks.” You gently but firmly pinched the pointer with your fingers and pushed it to the side before making your way to the cauldrons.

“I’d usually get the students to clean the cauldrons for me,” Crewel made idle conversation to fill up the silence. A glance told you that he was sitting back at the teacher’s desk, looking through some papers. “Unfortunately, the Year Two and Three students already know my habits and were quick to leave when the dismissal bell rung, and I am not allowed to use the Year Ones on the first week of school.”

You disposed of the liquid in the cauldrons the way Crewel had instructed you to, inserting a transparent tube into the cauldron and watching in silent wonder as the shimmering green liquid turned into an opaque mint green fog, wafting up the tube and into a large black bin situated at the back corner of the class. When the liquid was gone, you were able to see a rust-coloured metallic residue left on the sides of the cauldron.  

“Was it Headmaster Crowley’s decision?” you asked. Crewel barked out a laugh.

“No, no. As if. It was Mozus Trein, the Deputy Headmaster,” Crewel said. An unfamiliar name. You supposed that you’d meet him in the future. “Headmaster Crowley, shying away from child labour? Surely you jest. Are you not scrubbing cauldrons right now?”

You pulled yourself out of said cauldron. The metallic residue was a lot simpler to clean than you thought, easily coming off the cauldron with a mere wipe of your cleaning cloth. “I’m not a child, though.”

“Is that so?” You didn’t need to look at him to see the doubt on his face. “How old are you then?”

You told him your age. He was silent for a long while. You gave him time to digest, dunking your cloth into a bucket of water to rinse it.

“You look very… young for your age,” Crewel finally said.

“Thanks,” you replied. “I was de-aged.”

“Ah.” Crewel nodded, understanding blooming across his face. “Everything makes sense now. But why were you wearing the student uniform, then? Are you not enrolled at the academy as a special student?”

“Is that what Headmaster Crowley told you?” You were a little bemused. “I’m not a student, I’m an employee. Did I not introduce myself as the new handyman? Also, I was wearing the gym uniform because I have no other clothes.”

“You have no other—”

Crewel was interrupted when the classroom door swung open, revealing Crowley in all his glory. “You,” he said, pointing to you, “are an incredibly hard to find individual. You are also rather efficient, if what my staff has been saying about you is to be trusted.”

“Thanks.” A pause. “Did you need me for something?”

“Yes,” Crowley replied. “I have tasked a student with cleaning a hundred windows around campus and I need you to supervise him to make sure he does a good job.”

“Uh,” you said. “I’m in the middle of clearing the cauldrons, though.”

Crowley looked at Crewel. Crewel sighed and waved his hand.

“I’ll find a student to clean the cauldrons. The Headmaster’s orders come first,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, yes.” Crowley’s tone was that of impatience. “Now follow me. I hope we can get back before any windows are broken.”

-o-

This was worse than a broken window. Beside you, Crowley was wailing something about magic stones and broken chandeliers. You privately wondered to yourself why he didn’t just use magic to fix the chandelier the way he did back in your dorm — the part about no two magic crystals being the same felt like utter horseshit to you — and you eventually concluded that Crowley just wanted them to experience the Consequences Of Their Actions.

The broken chandelier had been caused by two boys: one with a heard painted in red on his face and the other with a spade painted in black. The boy with the heart tattoo was currently untangling himself from the chandelier — and how he got there would remain a mystery to you — while the boy with the spade tattoo was listening to Crowley threaten suspension with an ashen face.

Movement within the chandelier wreckage caught your eye. At first you thought it was a result of the shifting around the boy with the heart did but you seen realized that it was something entirely else. You quietly moved towards it, closer and closer until—

“Fuaaa?! Let go of me!” The grey cat creature thrashed as it dangled from the firm grip you had around its neck. It was evident that getting kicked out of the school didn’t do anything to deter the creature from returning. It kind made you think of a relatively well-known poem, something about a cat that kept coming back.

The blue flames in the creature’s ears rapidly increased in intensity. You tightened your grip and they sputtered out just as quickly.

“I… can’t… breathe…!” the creature wheezed out. Now that you were able to get a good look at it, no longer worried about burns from its blue flames, you had to admit that it was surprisingly cute! Its large and round blue eyes were clear and gleaming with life, its teeth were a brilliant, healthy white, and even the sharp but non-jagged nature of them had a certain charm to it.

“How many times do I have to throw you out?!” Crowley seethed upon catching sight of the creature.

“Well, you know what they say,” you spoke up. “People don’t adopt cats; cats adopt people.”

“That thing is not a cat!”

“I am not a cat!”

It took all you had to suppress the smile threatening to bloom across your face.

“We can discuss the monster’s species later!” the boy with the heart tattoo burst out. He had already gotten himself out of the wreckage of the chandelier and was now standing beside the boy with the spade tattoo. “Are you seriously gonna expel us?! There must be a way to repair the chandlier!”

Crowley turned away from the creature. “Well, there is one way to fix the chandelier,” he said. “The magic crystal for this chandelier was mined from the Dwarf’s Mine. If we have a magic crystal of the same kind as the one that was broken , we might be able to repair it.”

Crewel’s words about the Headmaster and child labour echoed in your head and you frowned. IT was one thing to put kids to work on school campus and an entire other thing to send them somewhere else without adult supervision.

“Will anyone be going along with them?” you asked. All four pairs of eyes immediately turned to you — well, three pairs; it was impossible for the cat creature to turn around in your grasp to make eye contact with you but it damn well tried — and Crowley nodded.

“Thank you for volunteering!” he said cheerily. You should have expected that. “You can use the Gate in the Mirror Chamber to go directly to the Dwarf’s Mine.”

The boy with the spade tattoo immediately broke into a sprint and the boy with the heart tattoo trailed after him, muttering curses under his breath. You were about to follow suit when Crowley stopped you.

“Pass the monster to me,” he said. You lifted the creature in your hands in question and it restarted its thrashing.

“I’m not leaving!” it shrieked. “I’m going to be a student in this school and become a great mage!”

“Absolutely not,” Crowley said. “Night Raven Academy doesn’t allow monsters to enrol in it.”

“Must you chase it off though?” you asked. You were getting attached to the petulant thing. “The way I see it, it’ll just keep coming back whether you like it or not. Instead of kicking it out and having it return later at an unknown and unpredictable time, I propose that we keep it here with us, where we can see it.”

“…I’m a he,” the creature said.

“Sorry,” you corrected yourself. “He.”

“But where will he stay?” Crowley asked. You could see that he was considering your idea. “And I won’t trust him to be in my school without any supervision.”

You spread your arms open — and the creature swung with the motion in a somewhat comical fashion — and tilted your head. “Don’t you have me? I can look after him, free of charge, and he can even stay in the unused dorm with me. Two birds with one stone.”

Crowley shot you a look that told you he knew exactly what you were doing. Still, he relented and once against caved into your unreasonable demands. It was a little odd, just how much you could push when it came to him. It made you uneasy. You weren’t used to people doing things for you without an ulterior motive.

Just what did Dire Crowley want from you?

“You should hurry along.” Crowley’s words brought you out from your thoughts. “Otherwise Mister Trappola and Mister Spade will leave without you.”

IT was a clear dismissal and you nodded your goodbye before heading to the Hall of Mirrors. On the way, you lifted the uncharacteristically docile cat creature in your grip up to your face.

“So, what’s your name?”

-o-

“Ace Trappola,” the boy with the heart tattoo said. He then gestured to the boy with the spade tattoo, “and this one’s Juice.”

“Deuce,” the boy with the spade tattoo corrected. “D-E-U-C-E, Deuce Spade! Get it right already!”

You gave your name in return, as well as Grim’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You’re that student who couldn’t use magic, right?” Ace asked you. You nodded and he continued with a smirk on his face, “Kinda pathetic, don’t you think? You weren’t allowed to enrol and now you’re getting pushed around, doing odd jobs.” Was he trying to incite a fight? How cute.

“If that’s what you want to think.” You nodded at him started to walk towards the mines. From the corner of your eye, you saw Ace open his mouth, which was followed quickly by Deuce smacking him to prevent further insults. Grim was walking beside you, docile after he bargained his obedience for his freedom. You doubt that it’d last.

“So this is the Dwarf’s Mine,” Deuce commented once the sight of a large abandoned mine came into view. You could see an old and decrepit cottage situated to the side of it, across a small stream. Ace had spotted it as well and was quick to point it out.

“Let’s go ask them about the mine,” he said.

“There’s no one in there,” you countered. “It’s clearly old and falling into disrepair. There’s no way anyone living in there would allow for that to happen.” Something about how it looked reminded you of one of D*sney’s movies, the one with the poison apple. It was incredibly uncanny.  

“No harm in checking,” Ace said. You considered his words. You just might be able to find something useful in the house or, at the very least, you could dismantle parts of the cottage itself to make something useful.

“You’re right,” you said. Ace puffed up at your words, an arrogant smirk plastering itself over his face at your agreement. It was rather endearing.

When you arrived at the little cottage, Deuce reached his hand out to knock on the door. You own hand shot out to grab it before it hit the dusty wood, prompting an odd look from the boy.

“What if something’s in there?” you hissed under your breath. “Do you want to alert it?”

Deuce was staring at you with wide-eyed confusion. Behind him, Ace frowned. “Didn’t you say that there’s no one in the house? And now you’re saying that there is? Can you make up your mind?”

Ace’s words tapped you on the head and you immediately let Deuce’s hand go. “Ah sorry.” Despite knowing that you were in a different world, you had slipped back into your old habits and automatically assumed that there would be danger lying at every corner. The people here clearly didn’t have the same sense of paranoia as you did, clearly showing that their world was a safe one. “I was just… I was just scared, I suppose.”

“What’s there to be scared about?” Ace asked. You shrugged in response, having no intent to explain your complicated situation to a bunch of kids you’d never interact with again. Without your interference, Deuce succeeded in knocking on the door but there was no answer.

“It seems like nobody’s home,” he said and pushed the door open, revealing its musty interior. “It’s a mess in here!”

You entered the house after Ace and Deuce and took in the room. Daily necessities were scattered all over the place; a broom leaning against the side of the chimney, utensils having over a pot, an unlit candle sitting on the table… everything pointed to the occupants suddenly disappearing overnight instead of a violent murder or a hurried evacuation.

“Aren’t the chairs and tables on the small side?” Ace asked. “Are they for kids?”

“It’s a house for dwarfs,” you replied, walking further into the cottage. There was a pickaxe embedded in the table in the centre of the room. You easily dislodged it and let it rest on your shoulder. Age had not rotted its wood and the metal pick was still nicely sharp and devoid of rust. There was a weight to it that you dearly missed back when all you had was a simple piece of plywood and you were already thinking about how you were going to persuade Crowley to keep it if he were to ask about your newest acquirement. Behind you, the two boys exchanged an odd look. You gave them a reassuring smile.

“Puwaaah!” a splutter broke the silence in the air and your gaze dropped down to see Grim frantically pawing at his head. “There’s a spiderweb on my face!!”

“Hold still.” You knelt down to his level, setting the pickaxe to the side, and gently picked the thin strands of web from his face. His body stilled under your touch, large blue eyes gazing up at you with an unreadable expression. It wasn’t hostile, though, so you paid it no mind. “Alright, done!” you said once all traces of the spiderweb were gone. You once again grabbed the handle of the pickaxe and stood up. “Since there’s nothing here, shall we start heading to the mines?”

“With… that?” Deuce was staring warily at the pickaxe.

“Well, you need something to dislodge the crystal, right?” You weren’t from this world but you were pretty sure it was mostly impossible to extract a crystal from caves without some sort of strong force. Also, you felt naked and vulnerable without something proper to defend yourself with.

“That’s true.” Deuce relaxed. You took note of the way he, instinctively or not, refused to turn his back to you, waiting until you walked past him before he moved. Ace didn’t have the same problem, however, already out of the cottage and on his way to the mines.

The journey there only took a few minutes and it wasn’t long before the large entrance loomed over you, supported by rotting wooden beams and framed by the roots of an old, moss-covered tree. The rail beneath your feet creaked ominous as the four of you traversed on them, the metal red with rust and warped by time.

“Do… do we really have to go in there?” Grim asked. A cursory glance revealed his fur to be all bristled as he edged closer to you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you told him. “You can wait out here for us.”

“Yeah, you can stay out here if you’re afraid.” While the words Deuce spoke were out of kindness, Grim took it negatively.

“I’m not scared at all!” he yelled, spitting out a small ball of blue flame, “And I’ll show it! All of you, follow me!”

You grabbed Grim by the scruff of his neck before he could march off. “We stay together,” you said, settling him on your shoulder. You felt his gaze on you for a bit, quiet and contemplative, before he relaxed and leaned against you. You turned your own gaze to the dark entrance of the cave, pushing down the instinctual apprehension bubbling up in your chest. The mines were empty, just like the cottage. Your anxiousness was simply paranoia.

Ace’s face ducked into your field of vision and you flinched, just barely managing to keep yourself from slamming the heavy pickaxe into his skull.

Unaware of his close brush with death, Ace grinned and rested his arm on your head. “You talk big for someone who’s just as scared as that raccoon,” Ace said. “Are you sure you’re not the one who wants to wait out here?”

You shifted away from Ace, letting his arm drop back down to his side. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” you said. “Besides, sticking together would bring about higher chances of survi— of success.” You saw no shame in admitting your fear. Ace made a sound of disappointment when he realized that his attempt to rile you up failed and moved his attention back to the mines.

“Let’s go then,” Ace said and entered the mines. You quickly followed, Deuce right beside you. The shadow of the mines fell over you and you tightened your grip on your pickaxe.

The gemstones embedded within the walls of the mines emitted a faint glow, just barely keeping the darkness at bay, and your eyes were quick to adjust to the gloom. The footsteps of your small party echoed down the tunnels of the mine and you were quick to notice that they were the only sounds you could hear. The creeping dread of paranoia flared up once again, threading its way up your spine, and you had to repeatedly tell yourself that there was nothing there. It was all in your imagination. This world was safe, just like yours had been before—

“There’s something there!” Deuce exclaimed. The pickaxe was out of your hands before you knew it, hurtling through the translucent bodies of two ghosts that had popped out of nowhere and slamming against the wall of the mines. The sharp end of the pickaxe was deeply embedded within the stone, allowing the heavy tool to remain firmly suspended above the ground.

“Sorry,” you said. “Reflex.”

There was nothing but silence as you walked over to the pickaxe and pulled it out of the wall with one hand.

“So,” you turned to the ghosts. They looked as cartoonish as the ones in the abandoned dorm had been, just with different hats on their heads. “Are you the type of ghost that plays pranks or are you malicious?”

The ghosts glanced down at the pickaxe in your hand. They looked back up at you.

“We were just excited to see another living person,” one of them said quickly, words falling out of their mouth in a rush.

“Yeah!” the other one nodded profusely in agreement. “The mines have been abandoned for a long time, around a decade to be exact, so we rarely get any visitors.” A pause. “Why are you kids here, anyway?”

“We’re here to look for a magic crystal. Are there any left in the mines?” Deuce asked. The ghosts glanced at each other hesitantly.

“There is, but—”

“Where is it?” Deuce cut them off, voice brimming with excitement.

“Just further down the tunnel but—”

Deuce ran off before the ghost could finish speaking.

“There he goes,” Ace said. “C’mon, we can’t let him get a head start over us.”

“Wait.” You turned to the ghosts. “What were you going to say before you were interrupted?”

“We were going to say that there’s a monster guarding the magic crystal.”

Your blood ran cold. “Monster? What kind? Size? Any special characteristics? Does it have a weapon? Does it seem to have sentience and/or intelligence?”

The ghosts seemed disoriented by your bullet spray of questions. “It’s, uh, it’s big. Taller than us, almost as tall as the ceiling of the tunnel, and it’s got a lamp and a pickaxe. We don’t know if it’s got intelligence; we don’t like going near it and it doesn’t seek us out so we’ve never interacted. Oh! And it’s got a huge leaking ink bottle for its head, you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” you said at the same time Ace opened his mouth.

“How are those questions gonna help with anyth— woah!”

You grabbed his arm and ran into the tunnel, pulling him along with you. If your current body kept the capabilities of your older one, you calculated that you’d be able to catch up with Deuce in just under a minute. Only a little more if Ace was unable to keep up.

“Hey, what’s the big idea?!” Ace yelped.

“What can you do?”

“What?”

“The Headmaster told me that you were being punished for fighting with magic. What did you use? What can you do with it? And Grim, I’m assuming that you can manifest and control fire?”

The tunnel was narrow, just big enough to fit the width of a minecart and then some, with nothing but darkness stretching out before them. The faint glow from the blue flames in Grim’s ears were only enough to illuminate a small are around them and nothing else, making you wonder how Deuce was able to run so far ahead so quickly.

“I can use wind to blow things around and sometimes deflect attacks?” The answer was startled out of Ace by your uncharacteristically solemn and demanding tone.

“I can’t control the fire, but I can aim it!” Grim said. You nodded back at him. That was good. You could work with that. You could see a glow in the distance now, a faint light glinting off a large glass bottle filled with thick black ink.

The monster was as large as the ghosts has described, towering over Deuce’s already tall frame. It swung its oversized pickaxe at Deuce, a motion surprisingly and alarmingly quick for something that large, and Deuce went flying. You immediately dropped your own pickaxe and threw yourself to the side just in time to catch Deuce and soften his fall.

“You— you’re here, there’s a monster!” Deuce spluttered out. It was relieving to see that he was still conscious despite the heavy blow.

“What the hell is that?!” Grim was clinging tight to your shoulder and his voice echoed loudly in both your ear and the cavern around you. The monster turned to your little group, pickaxe still in hand, and now you could see the oozing black mass that replaced the lower half of its body. You were still, staring at the monster. Despite being faceless, you could tell that it was observing you as well. And then it moved, sliding towards you at a slow but still rather distressing pace.

“Ace, blast it with the largest gust of wind you can!” you barked out, “And Grim, aim your fire right at its centre, the first button on its shirt!”  

Grim shot out a large breath of fire at the monster but it did little other than enrage it further. Ace, on the other hand, was tugging at you and Deuce.

“I’m not gonna blast that with wind, we gotta leave right now!”

“You blasting us with wind was specifically so that we would be able to escape!” you snapped at him, frustratedly reminded of the reason why you had stopped teaming up with other people. A bad teammate was worse than an absent one. You shoved Deuce at Ace and quickly picked up your pickaxe, throwing it at the monster’s head. It hit the bottle dead centre, causing the glass to crack and the monster to stagger, ink spilling out of its cracks. You quickly took this moment to grab Ace and Deuce, dragging them behind you as you sprinted out of the tunnel.

And then, to your complete shock and confusion, Deuce shook off your grip and stopped dead in his tracks.

“I can’t leave just yet,” Deuce said. “I saw a magic crystal in there!”

“So what?” Ace stopped as well to argue. “I’d rather get out of here alive and expelled rather than face that thing!”

“Well I’d rather die than be expelled!” Deuce snapped back.

Fucking pig teammates!

The nauseating slimy bubble-slide of the monster grew closer and its garbled moans and growls made the thinning thread of your patience snap.

“Make up your mind right now!”

You could feel Grim jump from where he was on your shoulder but you paid him no mind as you reached out to shake both boys vigorously.

“Either we run together, fight together, or I’ll make sure we’ll fucking die together!”

Both boys seemed rattled although you weren’t sure if it was due to your words, your volume, or the fact that you had shaken them like a cocktail mixture.

Ace was the first to recover.

“Did you not see the size of that thing?” Ace asked incredulously. “We can’t fight it, we’d die!”

“We still need to try,” Deuce said. “The magic crystal is right there!”

“If you want to try you can do it yourself,” Ace said. “I’m not going anywhere near that thing.”

“Fine!” Deuce snarled, tone shifting entirely. “If you wanna be a coward, go ahead!”

“Who are you calling a coward?!”

“I think we’re going to die together,” Grim said to you. You looked around and noticed that there were still a few pickaxes scattered around the mines. You quickly picked one up, along with a small pile of sizeable rocks.

“What are you doing?” Grim asked over the shouting argument the two boys were having.

“Ammunition,” you replied. “If I’m going to die, I’m going to die doing as much damage as I possibly can.”

You could see the glow of the monster’s lamplight now and Grim shuddered.

“Must we die?”

You glanced back at the two boys who were currently fisting each other’s collars. You could knock them out with a rock and carry them both to safety…

“Oi!” Grim yelled. “Do the both of you really want to be expelled on the first day of school?”

His words halted the boys mid-punch. Deuce seemed to realize something and quickly let go of Ace, stepping away and smoothening out his clothes.

“S-sorry,” he said. “I lost my composure for a little bit. And no, I don’t want to be expelled.”

“I don’t wanna be expelled either,” Ace said. “But can you definitely say that we can defeat that thing?”

“Yes.”

The boys blinked, startled by the confidence in your voice.

“If we work together, we’d be able to kill the monster,” you continued.

“Working together?” Ace made a face. “That’s so lame.”

“I’m not working with this loser,” Deuce agreed.

What was wrong with kids these days? “You’d rather get expelled than work together,” you said in disbelief.

“N… not exactly…”

“…”

“Then we work together. Deuce, what sort of magic can you do?”

“Summoning magic… but I can only summon cauldrons right now,” Deuce said quietly.

“That’s fine. That’s more than enough. Ace, can you control your wind to be like a twister? The diameter of the tunnel.”

“Of course I can!”

“How long can you hold it?”

Ace took a moment to think. “Maybe around five seconds?”

“How about you, Grim? How long can you breathe fire?”

“I need to take breaths in between but I can go full blast for a few minutes!”

“Okay. Great.” You glanced at Deuce who was standing at attention, clearly waiting for you to ask him about his capabilities. Despite yourself, you felt a little endeared. Nostalgic.

“I need you to summon a cauldron right on top of the monster’s head when you can see it,” you told him. “Make sure it hits the large bottle.”

“Got it!” Deuce saluted.

“Great.” The monster was just little over 10 metres away from you now, hefting its pickaxe up and getting ready to swing it down at you. Your eyes tracked its movement and once the pickaxe was over its head, you yelled, “Ace, Grim, now!”

Ace pointed his wand (?) at the monster and Grim jumped off of your shoulder, landing squarely in the middle of the tunnels. Instantly, a giant vortex of flame shot out in front of the duo, blasting the entire cavern with hot air and a bright blue glow. You heard the monster’s distorted screams and the heavy thud of its pickaxe dropping. You swung your own pickaxe at the pile of rocks you made on the ground, hitting them like little golf balls into the inferno. The rocks were sucked into the twister and carried by the wind, no doubt impacting the monster like little bullets of fire. You glanced at Ace and Grim to check on their condition, noting their strained conditions. It was likely that they had overestimated themselves and you quickly gave some instructions to Deuce.

“Alright, on the count of three, Ace and Grim stop your magic. One, two, three!”

Before the vortex could fully subside, revealing glimpses of the charred and twitching monster through flickers of flame, Deuce took out his wand (??).

“Cauldron!” he yelled. A large, black cauldron materialized over the monster, slamming violently onto the glass bottle. As you squinted you could see the crack you had left widening, as well as new cracks forming along its surface. The sight confirmed your hypothesis.

“Flatten it!”

“Cauldron, cauldron, uhhh, big cauldron!”

The cauldrons rained from above, with a comically large one pinning it to the ground. It struggled to free itself as it slowly got buried in cauldrons.

“That’s enough, Deuce. Thanks.”

“Understood!” The cauldrons immediately stopped. You walked over the mass of cauldrons and pushed a few off until the monster’s head was revealed. The glass bottle was fractured and badly damaged with deep spiderweb cracks all over and near half of its ink spilled out.

However, it was still alive.

You violently brought the sharp end of the pickaxe down onto the monster’s head and the glass shattered into pieces, ink splashing all over the ground. Your eyes caught sight of a small black crystal on the ground where its head was and you picked it up. Was it a crystal nuclei?^[4] Was there a correlation between the monsters of this world and the ones back in yours? But no, Grim was also a monster and he was nothing like the mindless creatures that roamed the deserted roads and empty streets of your city.

“Did… did we do it?” Ace asked cautiously from behind you. You pocketed the crystal and turned around.

“Yeah. It’s dead.”

“We did it!”

“We won!”

“Yes!”

Your pickaxe was stained with ink and you resolved to clean it as soon as you got back to the dorms.

“It’s great that you’re getting along now but we should go get the crystal and return back to the academy as soon as possible.”

“G-getting along? Me? With him? Don’t say such weird things!” Ace spluttered out.

“Y-yeah! We’re not getting along at all!” Deuce agreed. You rolled your eyes.

“Sure. Let’s go.”

Grim scampered up next to you and held his arms up. Despite your weariness, a smile spread across your face and you bent down to pick him up, settling him back onto your shoulder.

“…I guess making excuses is pretty lame,” Ace grudgingly said halfway down the tunnel. “I hate to admit it but we won thanks to your plan.”

“We only managed to defeat the monster due to your level-headed instructions. …I’m so relieved, we don’t have to be expelled…” Deuce said.

You hummed in acknowledgement. “I’m just glad all of you are safe.” Especially considering that you were technically their adult chaperone.

“Right,” Ace said, looking away. “‘course we’d be fine.”

Now that the threat was out of the way, it didn’t take you long to dig out the magic crystal and bring it back to the academy where Crowley had been waiting to expel the boys. He expressed shock upon their procurement of the crystal. Ace, Deuce, and Grim took turns to tell him about your ‘adventures’ in the mines, greatly exaggerating the fight you had with the monster.

And then… the Headmaster started crying and a whirlwind of things happened, including Crowley both praising and insulting you in the same breath, insulting all the students at his school, taking back his expulsion of the two boys, and somehow turning you and Grim into one combined student.

He also gave you a camera which you immediately passed to Grim to allow him to entertain himself.

“Alright then, it’s late,” Crowley said. “Run along back to your dorms now.”

You waited for the two boys to leave the room before turning back to Crowley.

“I have told you before, Headmaster Crowley,” you said. “I am not a child and I do not wish to be a student at this academy.”

“And if you are not a student, what would I do with Grim? I do not trust that monster to be able to get along with the other students in the academy,” Crowley said. You raised an eyebrow.

“Do the students of your academy even get along with each other?” you shot back. The memory of Ace and Deuce fighting each other, even when their lives were at stake, was still clear in your mind.

“Touché.”

“And I believe that Grim would be able to adapt to the academy as long as someone takes the effort to help him. I won’t be leaving him alone either; I propose that I sit in with Grim for at least the first week of classes to help him adjust. I would take the role of his guardian instead of a fellow student. It would also give me more authority and make him more likely to listen to me.”

“Hm…” Crowley tapped his gold-clawed finger against his chin. “I suppose that could be negotiated, yes… But if Grim were to ever cause a scene similar to the one at the welcoming ceremony or at main street, he will be expelled immediately and escorted off the premises.”

“That’s reasonable,” you agreed. “So, what forms should I fill up to enlist Grim as a member of Night Raven Academy?”

“…”