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(Amity Blight spun a lavender spell circle, looking at the happy abomination it conjured up.)
So, it turns out, illness was something that ran on Manny Noceda’s side of the family. For Amity, little was more painful than watching Luz abruptly collapse in the middle of a date, hitting the ground hard, something or another that Amity didn’t really understand happening in her lungs.
(Abominations had always been her thing, and the word had sat heavy on her tongue.)
Amity could only sit still in fear, paranoia, discomfort, not even really knowing just how bad her girlfriend was doing, all while Camila broke down beside her, the unspoken not again obvious in her hysteria.
Some of the healing treatments proposed were experimental, or risky. Zero approval, of course. Some of them would work, but they would take so long. They would save her, but she’d be bedridden for months. This looked more promising, it was the current plan.
But, of course, there were ways to get a person’s natural magic output to stabilise a healing spell, a common reason why many witches could fight off nearly any illness. But, it wasn’t an option for Luz. After all, there weren't just spare bile sacs sitting around.
(She counted backwards from ten, but the sleeping nettles had her out cold by six.)
Luz Noceda woke up groggy, sore, a twist in her leg that hummed softly (hummed, softly, that was new), there was two blotches figures, but as she came to her senses, she froze.
Her heart, it wasn't beating right? No, she felt fine. More than fine! But she could, she could feel her heart rattling in her chest, ba-da-thump ba-da-thump, twice as fast, irregular.
She turned, scared, but as she gained her bearings, the splotches — sorry, Camila and Eda — looked at her hopefully, a slightly sad expression on their face, but one that was smudged off when they saw Luz conscious.
“Hello, mija,” Camila said softly, and Luz smiled softly back, hi mami uttered vaguely. “You awake?”
“C’mon Cami,” Eda interjected, “Kid’s looking around and talking.” She looked at Luz proper. “How're you feeling, kiddo?”
“B-better? Mostly?” Luz asked, but then her eyes widened, “Wait, where am I? Where's Amity?”
“Calm down, Luz, calm,” Eda said, steadily, “Boots is fine, it’s you we’re worried about. You passed out in the middle of a restaurant.”
“We're really worried about you, dear,” Camila said, “You… it was…” Her voice choked up, “It was your papa all over again,” And Luz’s chest felt tight from emotion (and a double beat, ba-da-thump).
“I-I’m alive, see?” Luz stammered, putting on a grin, “Nothing to be worried about.”
“How's the heart?” Eda asked, and Luz frowned.
“Beating a bit funny, actually.” Luz said timidly, “I, I'm not sure.”
“Oh.” Camila said, voice vague, “Luz, it was... There was… a donor.”
“Wait, oh what happened?” Luz panicked, but she mellowed the second Eda rested a hand in her head.
“Nothing bad. It was… they, I, Eda…?” Camila said, her words calculated, but Eda glared.
“What was wrong before…?” Luz asked, feeling grateful to have dodged whatever bullet had been wrong with her heart.
“Nope, hate dancing ‘round it like this.” Eda said. “Kid, you have a bile sac now.”
“What???” Luz nearly yelled, a wide smile jolting to her face, and she went to move her hand, only for Eda to grab it.
“Yep, but no magic for twenty-four hours, could be bad for the heart while it still heals you up. The longer the better, honestly.” Eda explained, “But someone traded her heart for yours, so the healing magic could use your own bile to sustain itself.”
Luz nodded, a smile wide on her face. But suddenly, she faltered.
“Where's Amity?” She asked again, a realisation that surely wasn't right setting in.
The first Amity thought when she awoke was that her heart broke.
Genuinely, literally, every other beat was absent, hollow. But after a few seconds of expecting to die, she calmed her breath, and listened to the dull thud of her(?) heart, as her siblings and father (and Darius, for whatever he was to Alador) rushed up to her, as awareness came back to her.
Thumpthump. Thumpthump. Thumpthump.
It was calmer. Quieter.
She didn't know if she disliked it, really.
“Mittens, oh Titan, you're awake,” Edric said, genuine softness in his voice.
“How are you feeling?” Emira finished, and Amity closed her eyes.
Thumpthump. Thumpthump. Thumpthump.
As silly as the thought was, because of course it would, it reminded her of Luz.
“Fine, actually.” She said, voice level. “I'm gonna be fine.”
It felt so silly, to scroll call someone only one room away, but Luz and Amity were both bedridden, and they had their rooms to themselves, so it's not like there was anyone to bother.
To say Luz was hysterical was a mild understatement, for as Amity connected to the scroll call, Luz’s watery eyes broke.
“A-Ami?” Luz stammered, “You did this for me?”
She nodded softly, “Would every time, Luz, you know that.”
“B-but that's your magic, that's…” Luz trailed off, and Amity nodded.
“The strongest person I know went her whole life without magic.” Amity said, smirking a little, all the worth it when Luz giggled. “I can handle it with that woman by my side.”
“The strongest person you know is you,” Luz said timidly, and Amity blushed, but Luz continued, “I'm so sorry.”
“Don't be, sweet potato. I didn't have to do this, I wanted to.” Amity said, before chuckling. “Besides, you taught me glyphs. Now I'll teach you spell circles.”
“Promise?” That promise wasn’t to the idea of tutelage about spell circles, and Amity knew it.
“Promise.”
There was silence for a minute, before “Ami? Can you, I dunno, I wanna hear your voice. Anything you want.”
Amity smiled gently, and nodded. “Always. Lilith had just gotten back, she found this ancient multi-tool, and…”
It was one week later when Luz and Amity both were released from the healer’s wing, although another week before Luz was even allowed to try and cast a spell. Amity promised to keep Luz in line.
(How, she wasn’t sure. More than once over that week would Amity catch herself spinning a circle that didn’t do anything.)
Luz and Amity made food together as they often would, although once or twice would something go unaccounted for. Elixirs to make the transplant stick — apparently, in the human realm, those elixirs were a lifetime thing, which Amity found barbaric. Luz could only find four months nothing short of a miracle.
But those domestic moments were domestic (and maybe, more than usual, they were both recovering after all), but each night, they fell asleep next to each other, hearing the beat of a heart that had once felt so familiar, but was now so different, even just a week out.
(Amity couldn’t help but think the rhythm suited Luz well. Syncopated, staggered, exciting, unique.)
“No bile sac,” Amity growled two weeks later, panting and wheezing as she caught up to Luz. “You need to slow down… Titan, how did you keep up?”
“With great difficulty,” Luz said earnestly, “But seriously, you feeling fine?”
“Yeah, just… pushed myself a bit too far.” Amity finished saying, but dusting herself off. “Alright, so… where do you want to start?”
“What was your first spell?”
“Light spell,” Amity said, the memory of Odalia’s rare kindness, teaching Amity to cast a spell circle for the first time, came flooding to the forefront. “It was a light spell.”
“Alrighty!” Luz said excitedly, but there was a nervous chewing of her lip. “Seriously, though, you’re okay?”
“Yeah, fine.” Amity said, voice level because she was fine. (She had spun spell circle after spell circle, no trace of magic even manifested in her imagination. No purple glow, however unstable. It simply was completely gone.)
(She was fine, though, for real. The adjustment period would be an adjustment, but she was more than content with her choice.)
“So, might be a bit difficult to show you,” Amity mused, gesturing vaguely at nothing with her hands, “But you know how you draw your glyphs?”
“Yeah?” Luz asked, and there was a curiosity that was oh-so-familiar.
“So, what you need to do—”
“—is picture a shining ball of light, alright, Mittens?” Odalia Blight instructed, and the brunette nodded, giggling at the idea of a ball of light the size of her head.
“Okay! So now what?” The lisp was there, Amity had been so happy to outgrow it.
“Now, trace a circle, as steady, as perfect,” Odalia said, and those words would be echoed through her childhood, but this once, Odalia had been fair in its usage, “As even as you can make it.”
She traced a circle in the air, it wobbled and shook, and there was glee in her eyes, and Amity could only watch in amazement, while it sparked out and twinkled away, it undeniably had been magical in nature.
“Okay, steadier, you’ve got this, okay, batata?”
“Okay, I’ve got it this time!” Luz said, and slower, with a slowness people didn’t often see from her, she traced the air, a faint glow of eggshell white, or maybe a tinge of gold in the bright.
The light took form. It was smaller than most of Luz’s light glyphs had been, maybe the size of a marble. But it was there, hovering in the air.
“I-” Luz stammered, smile on her face, looking at the little ball of light. “I did it!! Amity, I did magic!”
With a smile, Amity knew she had made the right call.
“Abomination, rise!” Luz shouted at the pot, grimacing, a lavender spell circle rounded off and sparking out. Each time, the fluid in the pot rattled and shook, but rise it did not.
“Calmer, Luz,” Amity said, holding Luz’s wrist, helping her trace the air in a tight round circle, “Think of the first time you saw me do this.”
“Calm.” Luz repeated, before adding with a small chuckle, “I can do this, I’m a star.”
“Huh?”
“The first time I saw you do this.” Luz clarified, before eyes widened. “Oh, uh, I was watching you and Willow when you, like…” She trailed off, and Amity winced, nodding.
“But it’s true. You are a star.” She said, smirking. “Try again.”
“Okay.” Luz took a deep breath, and then, pointing straight at the pot, she spun her fingertips. “Abomination. Rise.” She said calm, level, and the pot rattled, shook.
Rise it did.
Amity woke up with a grunt, seeing the almost-pitch-black outside. Her sleep rhythm was still a bit off, and with a glance at the time: five in the morning, too late to bother going back to sleep. That said, was Luz up already? She wasn’t in their room, anyway.
With a step downstairs, Amity’s eyes went wide. Oh.
Luz sat cross legged on the floor of their shared home, a couple books opened in front of her, a small batch of abomination fluid being spun and wielded in the air, the thing Luz had always jokingly called waterbending, after some human crystal-ball show.
It was jittery, janky, jagged, but it was ‘waterbending’ all the same.
It spun and twisted, following her finger on a pattern, the human twisting and flicking her wrist increasingly faster and watching the purple material follow consistently, a sharp angle to its movements but keeping up all the same.
Luz, tediously mastering the magic she once called her own.
Oh Titan, I’m in love all over again.
It’s often done, on the Boiling Isles, that a couple would exchange jewellery as a mark of their bond. Something they’d dearly miss, something they cared about, because no trinket was more special than them.
But it hadn’t always been jewellery. At one time, it used to be more literal, witches exchanging organs. Of course, that was several hundred years ago, and the death toll was through the roof, but one smart witch decided to offer the jewellery he had worn every day for sixteen years, and his partner, he found the gesture even warmer.
Amity was thinking of this for absolutely no reason.
It was six months out from the surgery, five and a half from the start of her training, when she finally grabbed them. In the attic sat some old textbooks from their Hexside days, the slight hoarder Luz was always justifying that some days they might feel nostalgic for them.
She was back on every track.
Luz was a natural.
Amity didn’t know who all the top students were during her years at Hexside. Willow, hands down. Gus had skipped grades, but rivalled the twins, so that one was unclear. Skara probably, Raine Whispers themselves started tutoring her. But she was unsure on the rest.
It didn’t matter much. Luz could run circles around all of them.
Having spent a summer and then a university career relying on glyphs had made Luz resourceful, painfully familiar with the language of the glyphs, with magic as a dialect, and when she could speak the language she had only ever written, she flourished.
(Eda was a braggart, the self-proclaimed most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles at one point. By her own words, she was Luz’s age when she honed her magic to the point Luz had in merely a year.)
But seeing Luz master the same art she had was heartwarming in a way words would never be able to describe, a type of feeling that Amity was positive was hers alone to experience. Lavender spell circles seemed to be Luz’s go-to, more than even the bright white ones of the spells that bore her name.
(Luz almost never actually used light glyphs, ironically, for on the twee and quiet nights, when Luz came home from an exhausting day of being a teacher at Hexside, and she found Amity was lightening up the living room with dozens of glyphs the way Luz had done for so many years, it was a quiet serenity as the human held her lover close, and sketched with her all the same, making conversation over the bright enveloping them. No spell circles could match that tranquility.)
Amity never once felt weaker for relying on her glyphs. The strongest witch she knew used glyphs, after all.
(And if you were to ask the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles, she’d see it all differently. Lucky, fortunate, blessed. A small twinge of guilt for robbing her girlfriend of what had defined her for so long, however willing it may have been.
She could do anything, and she understood that. But there was something about lavender spell circles, abomination fluid, that reminded her of why she fought, of why she thrived.
Sometimes it was the serious things, rumours of the Archivist and a frenzied Collector. Sometimes it was the completely mundane like a hard-to-reach shelf.
But those lavender spell circles were spun and spun and spun, and everytime she did, as she honed an art that had once been someone else’s, her heart in two-tone time warmed, spinning and spinning the circles that in a way had, in a way, united them at fourteen.
Amity could do anything, and she chose to use glyphs so Luz didn't have to. Luz had seen first hand Amity's goals, and pursuits, her hobby in tinkering with machines like her father before her, the fascination with history that Lilith enabled. More than once had Amity and Luz talked into the dusk, into the dawn, about some randomly niche book, or neat excavation site, or this-that, or the other thing. But it still surprised Luz when Amity chose to use glyphs.
Luz had always seen the beauty in glyphs, but she had always seen them as lesser to raw magic. But seeing the joy on Amity’s face, seeing the excitement when she unlocked glyph combinations, or when she got over a hill that her natural magic would’ve once made easy, seeing Amity master the same art she had was something that tugged on their heart, and Luz couldn’t help but admire glyphs more than ever before, and she was realising she might've underestimated them.
The strongest witch she knew used glyphs, after all.)