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It was around 7:30 in the morning when the sun decided to creep over the horizon, bathing the town of Gravesfield in a sliver of j heat which did little to counteract the biting chill from the early winter winds. Some residents would bundle up and brave the cold, making the long trek from porch to driveway before immediately diving into their cars and cranking the AC as high as it could go. Others — mostly displaced Midwesterners — would bravely walk outside in nothing but shorts, a t-shirt, and their cheesiest grin.
Amity Blight, however, dreamlessly slept through the sunrise, slumped over the post-it notes scattered across the kitchen table.
Presumably unsatisfied with this lukewarm reception, the sun’s life-giving rays then decided to reflect off the recently polished toaster and directly into Amity’s face, waking her almost instantly.
Amity’s mouth stretched open in a yawn, then suddenly snapped shut. Groaning, she pushed herself into a seated position and dragged a hand over her face, catching one of the post-its that had stuck itself to her forehead. She picked the offending piece of paper off her forehead, blearily blinking as the unstable thing that should have been a light glyph swam into depressing clarity.
Amity sighed, crumpled the drawing and dropped it into the waste basket, which was already overstuffed with dozens of its mangled predecessors. She then fished a small, scuffed tape recorder from her pocket and depressed the big red button with a soft *click*.
“Hola, sweet potato! I think this is my sixty-fourth… Wait, no.” She hummed. “Sixty-eighth? Probably sixty-eight. Anyways, attempt sixty-eight is not great! I’m starting to think that your mom has a point about using a protractor.”
“What else…? Oh! Also, uh… Titan, this is gonna sound so stupid, but I haven’t finished the new Azura yet!" Amity shook her head. "I know, I know — ‘the next chapter’s the best part, sweet potato!’ But you deserve the raw, unfiltered Amity Blight Reaction, so I've been putting it off until we... get back.”
Outside, a horn faintly honked. The steady buzz of a lawn mower passed by the window. The house cracked and creaked, settling.
The pad of Amity’s thumb rubbed against grainy plastic as she waited for a response that wouldn’t come.
“I’m gonna fix this,” Amity promised. “Just stay safe until I do. Over and out.”
She ended the recording with a firm *clack* of a button.
The silence hung in the air long after.
——
“Well, you’re up early,” Willow said, far too chipper for 8:46 in the morning.
“So are you,” Amity observed. “I still can’t believe you guys are going birdwatching. Doesn’t Flapjack get, y’know, cranky?”
“Well, that’s why we bring him! He’s gotta make non-Palisman friends,” Willow countered, popping two slices of bread into the (incredibly reflective) toaster.
Amity snorted and pulled a jar of SuperCrema from one of the cupboards, passing it off to Willow, who then pulled a butter knife out of the drawer.
“So,” the other girl inquired, “whatcha up to today?”
Amity took a moment to think, pouring some Magical Marbits into a bowl on the counter. “Uhh… Glyph practice. Research over at the library. Fixing the house. That’s probably gonna take all day.”
“Sounds like it,” Willow giggled as she filled a glass with water and pushed it over to Amity, who started gulping it down. “Are you sure you don't want us to help?”
Amity waved her free hand. “No, you guys have your whole day planned out already. I don’t wanna ruin it.”
“You won’t be ruining anything!” Willow ingested her piece. “We’ll just stop by, do some work for a little bit, and then you can join us for ice cream? We’ll be back before the movie starts.”
Amity clasped her friend’s hands in her own.
“Willow,” she encouraged, smiling. “I will be fine. You guys go! Enjoy your birds!”
Willow’s eyes flitted across the abomination witch’s sunny expression for half a second, questioning.
“...okay,” the plant witch acquiesced. “Just call us if you need any help. Or just to talk, if you want.”
“I will,” Amity lied.
——
“So, this guy came from another dimension, and with him, he kind of brought this method of… moving to different dimensions, which is kind of cool,” the man in the red sweater explained.
It was a piece of paper with three circles drawn on it. Two at the top, one at the bottom, like coordinate points on an upside down triangle.
“Looks like three circles drawn on a piece of paper, right?”
Amity leaned in, her eye twitching.
“That’s ‘cuz that’s exactly what this is.”
She’d never closed a tab faster.
Using more force than strictly necessary, she flipped her diary open, paging over to the entry marked “SOURCE VETTING” and wrote the following:
“YouTube -- COMPLETELY UNRELIABLE!!!”
For good measure, she swiped three red lines under ‘completely’.
——
Amity bit the inside of her nail as she her scroll close to her ear, her knee bobbing up and down like a basketball that hadn’t lost its bounce.
He’ll pick up, Ghost purred.
“Are you sure?”
The palisman’s cheek brushed up against her owner’s thigh, nuzzling in.
Positive, she rumbled.
As if by magic, the line suddenly clicked to life.
“Go for Gus!”
Amity shot up, sending Ghost scrambling off the porch. Amity mouthed a “sorry” before turning back to the phone.
“Gus! Hi! Is this a bad time?”
"Not at all, mi amigo, not at all.” Amity heard crinkling plastic on the other end. “Just getting the snacks set up for tonight.”
The pink-haired witch rummaged through her memory, then clicked her fingers. “Right! Yes! Movie. Couldn't forget!”
A slight ‘huph’ as Gus deadlifted a bowl that was probably several pounds above his own bodyweight, then set it on the table. “You gonna be here?”
“I… I dunno yet.” Amity sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, Gus. I don’t even know if I’m doing anything right.”
The other end of the line crackled with white noise for a moment.
“Okay, maybe,” Gus proposed, hesitant, “you should take a break from the portal?”
Amity stiffened.
“Not for forever, obviously,” Gus quickly placated. “But at least for the afternoon?”
Amity turned towards the house. The jumper cables from their last, explosive attempt to restart the portal still hung off the doorframe, swaying in the breeze.
”I’ll think it over.”
——
“‘Adam Ericsenn’ was a fiction created the moment I was awoken by your Admiral Alexander to help him advance his cause,” the villain declared, rising to face the enraged Captain Avery head-on.
“My name… is Kall.”
Hunter whooped in delight. “I knew it!”
“So did I!” Camila exclaimed. “I said that it was Kall from the minute that the first trailer dropped, but NOBODY believed me! Everyone thought he’d be Grant Lockwood, or “just” a rogue Section 42 agent, or the-- The original O’Bailey! The original! Can you believe that?! It’s not even the same actor! But no, ‘it’s obviously plastic surgery! You're overthinking it!’ Well, why would Ericsenn be the ‘original’ O’Bailey when the tie-in comics already established… that…”
Camila suddenly became incredibly aware of the collective, bemused expressions trained on her. She gulped, quite loudly.
“Um… surprise!” Her hands shot into the air. “What a crazy, completely unexpected twist! You never see it coming, even when you watch it for the seventh— second time!”
Vee, on the other end of the room, grit her teeth and swiped her hand across her throat. Camila forced a laugh, sinking back into her chair.
Amity fondly rolled her eyes, scooping a handful of popcorn from the glass bowl that Willow had passed over, relishing the explosion of butter on her tongue.
She had to admit — the film was engrossing. It was no The Lost Frontier, but pitting those two entries against each other was like comparing Apple Blood to Orange Mucus. For now, she was content to be swept up in the ride. Besides -- things looked to be getting juicy, if the shouting match between Avery and his prisoner was anything to go by.
“I watched you open fire in a room full of unarmed Frontier officers,” Avery accused. “You killed them, in cold blood!”
“Alexander took my crew from me!" Kall slithered away from Avery, turning towards the back of his high-tech cell.
"You are a murderer!" Avery interjected.
"Used my friends to control me!”
The camera was trained on Kall now -- the captain and his trusty first mate were little more than blue and yellow blobs in the background.
“I tried… to smuggle them to safety by concealing them in the very weapons I designed,” Kall droned.
“Collector!” The rotting monstrosity that had once been their Emperor backed away with barely-concealed fear. “You’re free! As promised…”
Amity blinked, her spine going ramrod straight in a nanosecond.
“But I was discovered,” the heartbroken man on the TV continued, a single tear welling up in his eye. “I had no choice but to escape alone.”
“Go! Go, go, go!” The teenager’s shout was frantic, tinged with agony. “I-- I can’t hold the portal much longer!”
Amity clenched her palms into fists, tight.
“And when I did,” Kall spat, “I had every reason to suspect that Alexander had killed every single one of the people I hold most dear.”
Amity scrambled to her feet, sprinting towards the door. She could make it. She would make it--
"So I responded in kind," his voice cut through.
Kall’s tear finally fell, streaking down his face as the rest of his expression went slack. Amity could vaguely feel the sympathetic moisture staining her own cheeks.
“My crew is my family, Avery,” he growled before turning to face the crewmen, his agony as clear and harsh as a spotlight.
“Is there anything you would not do for your family?”
Amity didn’t remember getting up from the couch and running until she was already in the bathroom, her hands clutching with a white-knuckle grip, chest heaving in and out.
In for five. Hold for five. Out for five, implored the impossibly gentle, painfully familiar voice.
“I-- I c--” Amity stuttered.
You can, sweet potato. I believe in you. Now: in, slow.
Amity sucked a breath, her shoulders bunching up.
Hold.
She tapped against the porcelain five times.
And out.
It was tempting to let it all go at once, but Amity managed a steady exhalation, her eyes sliding shut.
See? You’re doing it! Just keep breathing with me. In for five…
Amity restarted the process.
Time slowly became an abstract blur, the action soothing her into a calm lull until, blessedly, her mind cleared of the concrete that felt like it had been piling up in her brain for Titan-Knows-How-Long.
Okay. Now -- five things you can see.
“I…” Amity swallowed, dry, still in the dark. “I think I’m okay now.”
Amity could almost visualize the concern on her girlfriend’s face.
“I am. Really.” She cleared her throat and took a cleansing breath. “My name is Amity Blight. I am in the bathroom of the Noceda household. It is about eight o’clock in the afternoon. The date is, um… October 16th, 2022, so that is exactly two-and-a-half weeks before ‘Hall-of-wean’. ‘Cosmic Frontier: The Dark Voyage’ is playing downstairs and tomorrow, we’re going to watch ‘Into Infinity’ which is your mom’s favorite.”
You remembered! The half-memory gasped, her eyes becoming stars as her hands bunched up her cheeks in a way that reminded Amity of one of those ‘chip-monks’ she saw on a late-night nature program.
“Does that mean I’m officially getting a good grade in Girlfriending?” Amity chuckled. “Also, no offense, but your Mom is really bad at hiding how much she likes this stuff.”
Right? I think she actually might be a worse liar than I am.
The young witch’s heart dropped a fraction of an inch. “…Luz wouldn’t say that.”
You got me, Ams, the imitation conceded. …so. What do we do now?
“Go downstairs. Apologize for… that. Get some sleep, then…” The young witch felt her shoulders sag. “Start working on the portal again, first thing in the morning.”
Do you want to?
Amity chewed on her bottom lip.
“…I can’t just quit.”
You’re not quitting.
The voice was shifting now, into something a little lighter — charmingly scratchy.
You’re just taking a break, it reaffirmed. Letting yourself enjoy the little things. Like... watching the birds. Eating some ice cream…
Reading through a fanfic with us, another, deeper voice suggested. Seriously, you would be an amazing Three of Eight. I have, like, twenty stories lined up, they’re all perfect for you.
Amity giggled.
Or you can keep going the way you have been, her own voice concluded, a bit somber.
Amity’s eyes snapped open. She took herself in -- long, feathery pink hair with a brown crown at the top. Red-rimmed eyes.
The tiniest beginnings of a smile.
“Alright, Blight,” she interrogated the reflection, leaning in close. “How do you wanna do this?”
——
Amity wasn’t even halfway down the stairs before Hunter scrambled to meet her at the bottom.
“We don’t have to finish the movie tonight,” he frantically rushed. “It’s getting late! I mean, I’m usually asleep by now, so why don’t we just... Uh... You're smiling.”
"Mm-hm," hummed Amity.
Hunter shot quick glances towards each member of the family, who had taken “battle positions” scattered throughout the house — Camila in the living room with phone in hand, Vee peeking out behind her, Gus and Willow on each side of the door — before turning back to Amity.
“Uh... okay!” Hunter paused, briefly. “...why?”
“Because we’re gonna finish the movie tonight,” Amity responded. “And tomorrow, we’re gonna go the roller rink. And I’m gonna have a great time, because I won’t be thinking about the portal. Or going anywhere near it for… probably the rest of the week, if I’m being honest.”
A stunned, confused silence hung in the room after that.
“Amity,” Vee inquired, careful not to shatter the young witch’s sudden good mood, “are you sure you’re feeling alright?”
Amity stepped down the stairs, motioning her family to join her in the living room. She dropped down onto the couch, wringing her hands while the rest of them sat in a half-circle, awaiting her next words with baited breath.
“I miss Luz,” Amity stated, plain and simple. “But she wouldn’t want me to keep hurting. And honestly? I’m just ready to be happy again. Or at least to try.”
She looked upon the small crowd, pressing her hands together, palms flat.
”Is… that okay with everybody?” the witch added, almost as a reflex.
The seconds after that question stretched into years from Amity’s perspective.
Finally, Camila stood, joining her on the couch.
“Cariño, I--” Her arms fidgeted, eyes darting back and forth before finally settling on Amity's face. “Can if I hug you?”
Amity nodded.
She soon found herself swept up in cozy wool and the pleasant pressure of two loving arms. Amity encircled her arms around Camila’s waist, reciprocating the gesture. More arms descended upon her, encircling the mother and child until Amity felt as though she was comfortably trapped under a weighted blanket.
“Oh, bebe, of course it’s okay,” Camila murmured. “You never have to ask if you can be happy. Never.”
Amity squeezed tighter.
——
It was around 7:26 in the morning when the sun decided to creep over the horizon, bathing the town of Gravesfield in a sliver of heat which did little to counteract the biting chill from the early winter winds.
Some residents would bundle up and brave the cold, making the long trek from porch to driveway before immediately diving into their cars and cranking the AC as high as it could go. Others — mostly displaced Midwesterners — would live to regret walking outside in nothing but shorts and a t-shirt, while they recovered from a mild case of entirely predictable frostbite.
Amity Blight, however, slept through the sunrise on a comfortable couch with her friends, dreaming of starlight.