Chapter Text
Week One
This afternoon finds Catleia Stolos huddled in a remote forest of the Boiling Isles, waiting with her co-conspirators: Luz, Camila, Cyrus O’Brian, Eda, and Lillith. They’re waiting for one of Lillith Clawthorne’s contacts: someone who might help them plot to overthrow Emperor Belos.
But Catleia’s distracted. Distracted by how she’s specifically huddled inside some kind of secret magical illusion. And how cool is that! She can’t help but pester the two witches with questions: how does it work? (“Magic.”) No, seriously, how? (“...Magic.”) Fine, be that way, how does magic work? (“...So, there’s this organ attached to a witch’s heart…”)
Suddenly, Lillith raises a fist, and they all quiet down. She's alerted them to something, but Catleia can’t tell what. She can’t see or hear anything unusual through the trees - until a witch on a flying broomstick lands in a nearby clearing. (A witch! On a flying broomstick!! Amazing!!!) She’s captivated by the sight of an orange-skinned being, with only one, massive, eye, at least six inches across, set in a crescent-shaped head covered in misshapen lumps.
“That’s him,” Lillith whispers. “Nury Televaldi.”
Alright. Stick to the plan.
Lillith slips out of the illusionary barrier alone. Catleia watches the ex-Emperor’s Coven witch soundlessly maneuver a few feet from the group, stand up, and loudly clear her throat.
“Nury?”
The witch snaps towards Lillith’s voice, arms tense raised - only to relax his shoulders and lower his arms when he sees her. “Lily! It’s been far too long,” he says, as he walks towards her with arms outstretched.
“It’s only been a few days!”
“I meant what I said!”
They hug fondly, as Nury comments “Ah, this reminds me of when we were young… anyway, you have someone you wanted me to meet?”
Lillith disengages from him, and turns towards the still-camoflauged crew. “Don’t panic,” she tells her friend, as she motions for everyone to come out.
Nury narrows his eyes at them as they emerge, scanning the five of them intently. Suddenly, he flinches backward.
“The Owl Lady? I heard you were dead.”
“What could possibly make you think that?” Eda asks.
With doubt filling his voice, he explains “They say you were in the Human realm, when they attacked. That nobody’s seen you since. That the Emperor’s Coven sent a team to investigate your apprentice - but your house was gone.”
Huh? They all were at the Owl House just this morning.
But Eda laughs. “Buddy, when you’ve been on the lam as long as I’ve been, you learn not to stay in any place too long. Hooty and I relocated a while ago.”
Nury nods, uncertainly. He looks at Luz with suspicion. “... but if the Owl Lady’s here, then... surely that wouldn’t make you her Human apprentice?”
Luz nods and strides forward. This is her show. “Yes. I’m Luz the Human,” she declares. (Nury takes an involuntary step back.) “I’m here to open your eyes, Nury. To reveal things about the war that will blow your mind, and to recruit you for an epic quest. You see, the truth about this war is that Emperor Belos-”
“Whoa, woah, waoh!” he exclaims, stepping further back and raising a hand, palm facing them. “I’m not here for any forbidden secrets, okay! I don’t-” he turns to Lillith. “Lily, I know your heart’s in the right place, consorting with a Human like this, but I- I just- I just want to get about my day, you know?” (Has he noticed Catleia, Cyrus, and Camila?)
Lillith nods somberly. “I understand, Nury. But we always planned big things together - and I have something that's right up your alley.”
“NO! Oh Titan, Lily, I don’t want any part of- of whatever this is.” Fear creeps into his face. “I just- I- I have enough stress at the Coven, alright? The news from the Knee is apocalyptic, I can’t sleep with all my worry or focus with all my fear- I came here for an escape from all that, Lillith!” His breaths become fast and shallow.
“I- I have to go-” he stutters, as he climbs on his witch’s broom and flies away. Catleia’s heart sinks as he soars.
Week 2
Lillith and Eda are out today. Looking for someone else to meet who won’t turn them all in to Belos. Catleia spends the time studying real, actual, no-jokes-we-mean-it magic.
“The light glyph is the most basic glyph,” Luz is explaining, “and it looks like this.” Sitting next to Catleia on Eda’s couch, Luz produces a slip of paper and a pen. She quickly draws some shapes into the paper and gives it a tap. Catleia watches in awe as the paper spontaneously curls into a ball, starts glowing, and rises into the air.
“Just draw it like this, see?” Luz says, as she draws another glyph. Catleia considers diagram the teen has drawn. It looks simple enough: some straight lines inside a circle.
Catleia puts pen to her own paper, and starts by drawing a circle. A quick flick of her wrist produces... a misshapen lumpy mess. She frowns. Drawing a perfect circle can’t be that hard, right?
“Don’t get discouraged!”, Luz declares. “It’s hard, and I had to practice really hard to be able to draw runes like this.”
Catleia nods again, and grabs a new sheet of paper. This time, she slowly and methodically guides the pen across the paper. In time, she produces a slowly and methodically drawn misshapen lumpy mess.
Frustration wells in her. They have tools to do this, right? Catleia is sure she’s heard of tools to draw circles like this.
Luz looks at Catleia’s work. “Alright, why don’t we start with some tracing exercises? Really nail down the basics before we cover advanced topics.” Catleia’s offended. She is a skilled and highly trained engineer; she shouldn’t be talked down to by some kid.
Unaware of Catleia’s frustruation, Luz cobbles together some scraps into a box, deposits a slip of paper into the box, touches it to turn it into a glowing ball of light (Catleia would do anything to learn how to do that), puts a sheet of clear acrylic plastic over the glowing ball, puts yet another light glyph on the plastic, and a blank sheet of paper over the glyph. “Now you try!”
Catleia sighs. Luz is barely half her age. It wounds her pride to defer to her like this.
Nonetheless. She scoots over on the couch, closer to Luz’s contraption, and sees that the lines of the light glyph can be faintly seen through the paper above. She puts pen to that paper, and very carefully traces the glyph’s circle.
The result is… not something to be proud of. But Luz is encouraging. “Good job!”
Catleia tries to quickly shoot Luz a look of contempt (and fails), and continues tracing the glyph. The result isn’t pretty. All the lines are a little crooked, none of the circles are quite circular, and the page is covered in small dots that betray where the pen left or first touched the page. Luz looks over the result.
“Alright! Now just give it a good ol’ slap, and watch it go!”
Catleia is so sick of being pandered to. But she still taps a few fingers to the page, and watches in awe as the lines begin to glow, and the paper crumples up, rises a few centimeters in the air, and starts glowing with a faint blue light.
Catleia feels raw power flow through her veins. Suddenly, everything is possible. The world is her oyster. If she can do this? She can do anything. The world has gone from nonsense to sense, and all is clear. And she is desperate to learn more.
But she’ll have to wait. “Mail call!”, announces a high-pitches, masculine, and somewhat grating voice. The 'house demon', as Eda sometimes calls him, approaches.
Hooty. A being of the kind Catleia’s seen to exhaustion on TV, but never in real life. More than once, she’s been struck by thoughts about how odd his biology is. How does he just extrude himself? His - neck? call it his neck - is smooth and featureless; he doesn’t have any obvious folds or flaps to store excess skin for when he isn’t extruded. And extruding his neck doesn’t cause any noticeable distortions in his skin. It’s bizarre!
As she ponders, the owl starts coughing violently. Yet more questions! How does he breath? Extruding his neck should increase the dead space between his lungs and his mouth, and the longer his neck is the liklier it should be that oxygen-poor air accumulates near his lungs as oxygen-rich air accumulates near his mouth - but giraffes have really long necks, and they don’t have problems breathing, how do they do it?
As she ponders, Hooty coughs up three letters, all addressed to Luz. (One in a style noticably fancier than the other two.) The teen scoops them all up and scampers off to her room, leaving Catleia alone with her thoughts. (And Hooty.)
Week 3
Catleia and her new friends, less one Eda Clawthorne, stands awkwardly in a forest near the shoreline. The area is off-limits: dangerous aquatic demons have been spotted in the water, and the Beastkeeping coven has evacuated the area.
Making it a perfect meeting place for their seditious conspiracy to meet a potential recruit.
(It’s also a perfect place to be killed and eaten by said demons. Such are the risks that coup planners must sometimes run.)
Suddenly, the ground opens up a few feet away from them. A hole about a meter across appears in the dirt, and Eda crawls out, followed by her contact: a burly, olive-skinned witch named Mary Jo Miller. She looks around warily, before spotting Catleia’s little band. “Edalyn, are these the people you spoke of?”
“Yes.”
The witch nods somberly, and gravely intones “I wish you to know that although I'm the type to keep company with a wanted woman like Edalyn, I’ve never quite committed treason. If the stakes are as high as she implied, I expect you bring revelations of awe and woe.”
Luz walks up to her, her spine straight and her gait fearless. “What has Edalyn told you?”
Mary Jo looks down skeptically, and declares “The charge that Emperor Belos started the war. The claim that she has human witnesses who can back her up.” She drifts her gaze over the band. “Which of you are the humans?”
Catleia and Cyrus step forward. (Camila shuffles towards her daughter.)
“Bold of you to come here. Some witches might take the chance to obliterate a gathering of the enemy.”
Cyrus tenses, his hand shooting to his hip. Eda tenses, brandishing her magic staff before her. Catleia tries to parse what Mary meant, and takes a few seconds too long.
But the witch only laughs. “Oh calm down, if I meant to betray you I would have brought the Emperor’s finest. You’ve sharpened my curiosity; now satiate it.”
Luz pauses for a second, before explaining:
“Six weeks ago, Emperor Belos created the portal at the Knee. He traveled through, built a camp in the human realm, and established contact with the people who live nearby. Every few days, he allowed a human to approach and ask him questions. But three weeks ago, he launched a sudden and unprovoked attack, and killed ten thousand innocent civilians in the blink of an eye.”
Mary Jo sighs deeply, and looks to Cyrus and Catleia. Catleia looks back blankly, sees Cyrus nodding, and nods vigorously herself.
“I see,” the witch replies. “You bring grim tidings indeed. Alas, I fail to comprehend your intent behind sharing this news.”
It’s showtime, kid.
“President Zelenskyy didn’t want this war,” Luz continues. “It would end tomorrow, if the Emperor were overthrown and his replacement asked for peace. So that’s what we’re going to do: organize a motley band of do-gooders, rebel against Belos, and end this war.”
The witch’s eyes grow wide. She takes an involuntary step back. “You scheme to assassinate our holy ruler? By Belos’s hand we became united, by Belos’s hand we annihilated wild magic, and now you plan to topple him?” Luz nods eagerly.
The witch begins trembling, and sits down on a nearby rock. “Pardon me, I need to give your weighty proposal the consideration it’s due.”
But Luz is on a roll. “Belos doesn’t want the people to know, so we’re going to tell them. And the more people we tell, the more support there’ll be to oust him! What he did- it isn’t right, and we need to do something to-”
Mary holds up her hand, and Luz stops.
They all stand there awkwardly.
Cyrus walks forward and begins speaking, but is hushed.
After a few, tense moments, Mary Jo Miller comes to a conclusion.
“I’m sorry. Your endeavor is doomed. The Emperor’s grip on power is too strong, and I shan’t throw my life away on your misreasoned gamble.”
“No, you can’t!” Luz sputters. “You have to! Belos is the bad guy here, we need to-”
“I’ve made my decision. It shall not change. Good day.” She begins climbing back in the tunnel. “Now, I’ve sworn a solemn vow not to betray your confidences-”
-”a magically-binding vow,” Eda interjects-
“-and I’m a witch of my word. But I wish not to hear more of your mischief, and if you approach me again I’ll hesitate not before taking strenuous action ensuring my name is never associated with your insanity. Fare well.”
And she’s gone. Mist.
Week 4
Catleia wanders aimlessly about the Owl House. Lillith is off, looking for a new contact; Eda, King, and Hooty are off on some adventure; Cyrus is napping in the closet Eda gave him; and Luz is holed up in the room she and her mother share. (Luz received a mysterious letter yesterday, and its contents brought her to tears. But she isn't talking about what it said.)
Leaving Catleia at something of a loose end. Watching the “house demon” (as Eda once called Hooty) detach himself from the front door had been fascinating, in a horrifying sort of way, and after taking thorough notes on the process she had set herself to glyph practice. But she can only spend so long drawing misshapen circles and crooked lines before she gives up.
She wanders into the living room and notices Camila looking sadly out a window.
“Hey. Is everything okay?”
The older woman turns to face her. She looks to the floor, and drums her fingers on the windowsill before confessing: “I’m afraid, Catleia. I’m so afraid. Luz was always a willful child, but this… this is too far.”
“But it’s also kind of exciting, isn’t it?” Catleia hopes to cheer the other woman up. As the words leave her mouth, she realizes that may have not been the most sensitive thing to say.
Camila glares at her. “For her, maybe. For you. But it’s so dangerous! Every day, Lillith has some new story about a run-in with the police - the ‘Emperor’s Coven’, whatever - and every time I go out on an errand with Luz, I count a hundred different things that could kill us! Monsters rampaging through the street, plants eating passerbys, it’s all so much!”
“Yeah. I can’t imagine how the demons have survived here for so long. Sometimes it feels like this place wants to kill you.” She knows to say it, but she doesn’t mean it. Catleia has sometimes considered specific dangers, but thoughts about the general dangerousness of the Boiling Isles roll off her like water off a duck’s back.
Camila sighs. “You, Cyrus, and Lillith understand, at least. I had hoped so hard that Luz would too. She- did I ever tell you that she spent the summer here?”
“Well, no, but your brother did.”
Camila takes another deep breath. (“Don’t be so pedantic”, whispers the imagined voice of her sister.) “I’m afraid she’s grown numb to the danger. I tried to convince her not to do this, I tried so hard, but she… she threatened to run away if I didn’t let her. Can you believe that? That she’s so committed?”
I don’t particularly care about my parents’ opinions, Catleia thinks. “It’s horrifying that she’d threaten you like that,” she says. Sometimes, it’s more important to affirm people’s feelings than to solve their problems. (Or even to be honest about your feelings).
"I only joined this effort so I could protect her. But what if I can’t? She could get hurt, or killed, all because I can’t control her. And we missed Francisco’s funeral. Did I tell you that?” (She had not.) “My parents held a ceremony back home. I told Luz about it, tried to convince her to go, but she said she didn't want to ‘risk it.’ To risk going home, because she might not be able to return here.”
Week 5
They’ve taken a risk today. Their newest contact wants to meet in “Mary’s Room,” a special nook in a restaurant in the city of Manaháhtaan. According to Lillith, the nook was designed for secret meetings like this: the walls are impregnated with anti-scrying magic, and a trapdoor in the floor connects to a network of secret tunnels. They can gather here without detection, plan without being watched, and leave with everything they entered with (save a fee to rent the space, of course).
But they’ll be sitting ducks if their contact tips off the Emperor’s Coven.
They don’t have a choice. It’s been over a month, and they still haven’t found anyone willing to join them. Lillith, former Head of the Emperor's Coven before her very public downfall, hasn't quite exhausted her supply of witches still willing to speak with her, but their group is growing desparate.
And her contact insisted on meeting here. He says that it’s because it’s the most secret place he can go to without drawing attention… but Catleia is worried about how easy they’d be for the Emperor’s Coven to capture.
Suddenly the door shimmers, and in enters-
Lillith’s contact, one Terrence L. Bristow. High up in the Potions Coven, unofficially its second-in-command. A witch with bright yellow skin, huge, gently-curving horns on his head, and feather-like appendages on his forearms. He’s apparently known to hold innocent luncheons here; this reservation won’t raise any suspicion.
The demon smiles warmly at Lillith. As she greets him, he quickly assesses the crowd. His eyes quickly flit to the sides of everyone’s head - of Eda’s, then Luz’s, then Camila’s, then Catleia’s, then Cyrus’s.
He sits down. They left an empty chair across from Lillith, but not next to any of them.
“Well, well, well. Oh how the might fall, Lillith Clawthorne. A witch harboring doubts about your loyalties might wonder if you’ve been consorting with the enemy.” (Catleia notices Cyrus’s right arm shift under the table.)
He continues. “I’d love to chitchat, but let’s just get down to brass tacks. My time is very, very valuable right now.”
“The everlasting oath?” Lillith asks.
“I’d rather not. I dislike such constraints on my options.”
“I appreciate the trust you’ve shown by meeting with us, but I hope you understand why we insist on the oath.”
He leans back in his chair, and crosses his arms. “I don’t submit myself to such magic. As a rule. I’ve never once found a way to word an oath that enforces its intent without also forbidding or requiring unintended behavior. I will promise to keep quiet about this meeting. And if it makes you feel better, I’ll admit that our fearless leader wouldn’t appreciate that I took it, even if I were the first to tell him of it. But you won’t get a firmer assurance than that.”
They all exchange glances. Lillith said it might come to this.
With everyone’s implicit assent, Luz takes the plunge.
“We want to end the war, Bristow. And we can end it far quicker than Emperor Belos can. To convince you to help us, we’re going to tell you secrets. The first secret is that Emperor Belos created the portal at the Knee. He traveled through and built a camp in the human realm. The second secret is that a month and a half ago, he established contact with the people who live nearby. Friendly contact. Every few days, he allowed a human to approach and ask him questions, and he answered seemingly without ulterior motive. The third secret isn’t something you’ll want to hear, but it’s why we wanted to meet. Because the third secret is that Belos started this war, by launching a surprise attack that killed countless humans, and provoked their anger.”
The demon starts…
Trembling?
No. Laughing. He starts laughing.
Catleia looks to Lillith with alarm, but she grimaces in confusion.
Bristow recovers enough to speak. “And let me guess, you’re about to tell me he attacked a human city named Marthasville. Is that right?”
Suppressed laughter fills the stunned silence.
Luz looks to her mother for direction; Camila looks to Cyrus for reassurance. Catleia looks to Lillith; Lillith and Eda look to each other.
Bristow’s laughter dies down. “I’m sorry for the breach of decorum,” he says solemnly. “But, well- how do I put it? I was having a working dinner with a friend of mine not so long ago. A family man, high up in the Abomination Coven. Perhaps you know him.” He glances at Luz. “I hear his poor daughter hasn’t been doing well these last few weeks." (So?)
“Now, my friend is tragically uncautious with what and how much he drinks, especially when separated from his wife. And during this dinner, with some encouragement, he started telling tales that weren’t his to tell. In particular, he revealed that he has forbidden knowledge. The forbidden knowledge about the magical explosion our fearless leader started amidst those poor, unsuspecting humans. And what’s the point of having forbidden knowledge if you don’t act on it? You lot look like you have plans.”
He leans forward, lowering his horns towards them and clasping his bright yellow hands together while while resting his elbows on the table.
“And I’d love to hear them.”