---

---

---

The students had divided into three groups, a mystical and auspicious number. Just as good things come in threes, so do terrible ones. One group diving into the mystery of a head, another into tomes, and one more into dreams… On a night such as this, the air was heavy and thick, charged with the unknown, the unseen, the unsaid. What little safety exists at Strange Academy may very well be an illusion. One of their own had already disappeared, vanished - the remnants of a body discovered by Franklin, a head rumored to be stashed away in the darkest recesses of the school.

Perhaps it was for the best that nine went to the dungeon - that together, they might find strength that would otherwise elude them.

Good then, too, that two had gone to the library - that they would not be alone, as the wind hollowed outside and the sky darkened, as thunder rolled.

And yet, one went alone - one to their dormitory, their roommates occupied and gone.

If something were to happen to her, who would hear Willow scream?

---

---

---

---

“Don’t make too much noise, got it!!” Jake grinned. It did not occur to him that he was already making far too much noise. He hadn’t brought a light either, as he did not have very many possessions - and while he was about to helpfully explain that he could make purple sparkles, it seemed that the others had it handled. He gasped as Connie did some sort of incredible magic, light appearing out of a stick - and as Finley made lights dance around them - and Cassie made pink glitter! His classmates were so cool. “Can you show me how to do that?!”

He didn’t notice Cassie’s fear - or anyone’s fear, really. This was all so fun, so exciting! Almost all of his friends were here! He was half tempted to use the favor from Nicky to ask him to join them, so that way all of his favorite people could be present, but he really liked his gift and he didn’t want to let go of it, not just yet. He wanted to keep it for at least a day. Maybe he would use it to ask Nicky to join them for pedi-manis?

He froze for a moment though, as Finley and Dysphoria got very close. He wasn’t supposed to get this close to people. For a moment, his form became intangible, flickering as it had earlier - but he remained thoroughly grounded in space, as something else came over him. There was a swell of energy in his chest, almost the same feeling of pressure as the bubbles, and he threw his head back involuntarily, yelping in surprise. A wave of cold emanated out from Jake, colliding with each person assembled there, leaving them with a slight chill, a mild fatigue, the sensation of weakness - as if he were some sort of predator and they his prey…

He was dazed, feeling strangely emptied, as he took a moment to catch his breath, stumbling back away from Finley and Dysphoria to hit the wall. “If we… if we find the head, can we put him back together and bring him back?”

---

---

---

"We can't, Jake." Rohan had an edge to his voice, while addressing the guy who immediately refrained from being quiet. "Franklin can. Or maybe we find a necromancer to do it. Whisper if you want to say something." Was it that important? Probably not, but if there was something actually alive down here, Rohan would've preferred it being surprised by their presence, not the other way around. He watched them go through what they had, and eventually Connie just pulled out a flashlight, which was good enough. He ignored the banter, keeping an ear out as they were led on by Finley's nose for blood. Rohan hung back a little while the others took the lead, listening for his familiar to return.

The creaking of his wings was easy to pick up on. He turned and stood still a moment. Root swooped over with one of his master's artifacts in his beak. "There we are. Alright." Rohan plucked it out of the air as Root dropped it. It was made of bog wood older than history, with black, oiled leather to strap it to one's face. He pulled the Mask of Other Things over his head. Gossamer-thin strands of something black snaked from the edges of the mask up to his eyes, and he felt his vision shift.

Then, he walked back up through the middle of the group, while Root landed on one arm. He didn't seem very vocal about his opinion of the magpies still hitching a ride on Rohan's right shoulder, which happened to be Root's favorite perching spot.

"There are things mortal eyes just aren't made to see," He explained, voice still quiet. "That's what this mask is for. So..."

He focused his attention ahead. There didn't appear to be any strange energies or immaterial beings that could go invisible. He walked ahead of them, and... Nothing. It was just the usual.

"Huh. Well, for the dungeons, it seems pretty normal. I don't see anything out of the ordinary, just the usual liminal oddness." Rohan turned back to the group.

"Doesn't seem that there's-"

His head whipped back around with the quickness of a predator. A knife found its way into his hand. He saw-

Nothing.

For a brief moment, something was there. But as he focused on that spot along the stone walls of the dungeons, it was just an empty space.

"A shadow- It's gone." Rohan tilted his head around. Nothing was jumping out at them. Could it have been a trick of the light? Something Annika was working on casting? It was hard to be overly careful in spaces like this, where one could get lost in ways that were hard to amend.

"Hm. Probably just one of those witches just haunting the place."

A magpie on his shoulder made a quiet chittering sound.

"Or that," He agreed. "Okay, so far so good. Annika, you're the shadow wizard, did you see that too?"

Finley shot Franklin a pouting look. “But blood was involved. I know blood. I could have possibly told you who the blood belonged to.” Finley’s type of fae was particularly good at blood magic. They could ride the blood and see memories and gain some power from the blood they consumed. Finley knew there were dangers in riding the blood of someone who had died. If they were not careful and skilled, they could follow the person right into their death.

A shiver of... fear... went through Finley. They watched Jake, who was suddenly a lot more interesting to them. They had not ‘written him off,’ but they had not paid him much heed. Their core tightened, and Finley very much wanted to get to know Jake more... intimately.

When Finley next spoke, they were answering Jake, their attention fully on him. Their voice low as they answered his question. “I am not skilled in the magic of life and death. I have heard stories of such things happening, so it is not impossible. However, it is a very dangerous road to walk. That question is something Constance and Franklin may be able to answer.”

---

“I’ve never tried to bring someone back from the dead. I don’t know if I could.” This was why she had to hope that the man in the statue was alive in there. That she could transmute him back to flesh and that he would still be alive. Hopefully, he had been in a stasis and not aware of time and the world, leaving him behind. If he was, he was likely insane. But that was a problem for later. For now, they had to focus on the situation in front of them.

Finley continued to lead the group through twists and turns, deeper into the dungeon. They stopped, suddenly staring at a wall, at a dead end. They were frowning, looking at the wall intently.

“What is wrong?” Connie asked. She looked around, trying to see where Finley was leading them. It seemed that this was a dead end. There were no doors or anything that could take them further. She shone her flashlight on the wall that Finley was staring down.

“The blood is here.” They pointed at the stone wall before stepping forward and touching it. Connie knew that Finley’s magic was not just blood-based; they could also do illusions. She wondered if they thought that the wall was an illusion, covering whatever bloody scene was waiting for them on the other side. Finley’s hand was pressed against it. So if they thought it was an illusion, it was an exceptional one.

“What do you mean?” Connie asked.

“The blood I followed, the smell of it, is strongest here. In the wall,” Finley responded without looking back. “Perhaps Rohan or Barty will be able to figure out the trick to the wall. I have led us here.”

---

---

---

---

Even with all the talk of unsavoury things happening in the dungeon, Annika remained calm. She liked dark and spooky places like this. Even Nochella had come out to play, slinking in and around her companion's feet before dashing off ahead of them. Annika fell half a step behind Rohan once he had his mask in place. She had the strongest urge to touch the thing. He looked even more like a tree now.

However, she didn’t linger behind Rohan for long. Dysphoria’s talk of blood, hunting, and killing had her moving closer to Rohan again. Everyone had their own quirks, and Dysphoria was decidedly not remotely close to anything Annika had ever encountered before, so she had no experience in how to act or interpret the symbiote. For now, the best course of action Annika had to go off of was to stay away. Especially in the dark.

Annika glanced at Rohan when he asked if she had seen what he had within the shadows. Annika shifted her steps, suddenly feeling unstable and as if she were being hunted. She turned her head, eyeing Dysphoria and Finely before she refocused on the dead end they had come to.

”No, sorry. I missed it, but these shadows do feel familiar. I know them somehow, and I think Noch does, too,” Annika said, watching her shadowed feline friend bounce around.

---

---

---

---

”Library first, then. I do want to stop by the professor's office and take a look at the journals he has. I am certain something will be in there that could help us.”

Callaghan walked through the halls with Nicky, glancing back at the rest of the group as they disappeared in the direction of the basement.

”You two always seem to write off the newcomers too soon. I am certain one or two of them may surprise you,” Cal said, smiling at Nicky as they walked. Barty did like to play rough, but it seemed Cassie could hold her own against him. At least verbally. ”Besides, you were quite fond of Jake last night if I recall,” Cal proded.

Once they reached Cal’s room, he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it onto his bed. Silk was fine for dinner, but not good for studying. Half-naked, with the marks of last night still visible, Cal started shovelling books into a bag before he selected a light coloured Aran cardigan from his closet and slipped it on. However, now his red pants no longer matched. Cal stripped those off next in favour of a black pair.

Cal slowly dressed, contemplating his meeting with his favoured professor after Willow had left earlier that day. ”He’s tired, but he declared that nothing is wrong and our task is unrelated. I’m still not convinced. But he did mention some of his work might be coded in some way that he no longer understands.” Like that infernal sentence Mikkail wrote in his native tongue on the blackboard. Cal grabbed his bag off the bed, feeling frustrated.

---

---

---

---

Cassie grew more unnerved as the conversation went on. She knew the school was magic, she knew the students had varying levels of interest in wild and out-there things, but surely the school wouldn't allow horrendous experimentation on their grounds without some level of supervision or protection.

Right?

And all the talk of blood? Playing with it, using it, morphing it. What freak show was she being a part of? And why was she sort of still excited about it? She was reminded of all the opportunities she missed growing up in her home with her parents overseeing everything. Even when she got her first period, she felt like there was A LOT of information not being shared by her mother.

Cassie glanced at Jake. She was sort of worried for him. She was happy he was making friends and learning new opportunities and skills, but she also knew that he was...special? Did people use that word still? He was sweet and childlike in his innocence, and she couldn't help but feel people would take advantage of that.

Jake appeared...elsewhere for a moment when Finley and Dyphoria got near him, and before she could react, he threw his head back, yelped in surprise and unleashed a cold front that sent a chill down her spine. She felt tired despite not having been so before. She went over to him, slowly as to not spook him any more. "Jake, are you okay?"

As Rohan and Annika played with shadows, Finley pointed out a wall with talk of more blood. She looked over at it and, not one to wait for a prince to save her (she may enjoy romcoms but even she knew that sometimes the princess had to save herself) she inspected it closely. She noticed that the wall was put together recently. It was dismantled before and there didn't seem to be a trick to opening it. "It was put together recently. You can see it. Maybe I can break it down. Stand back everyone!"

Once she was sure people were out of the blast zone she summoned her magic. Her eyes glowed pink and the energy formed in the palm of her hand as she held it towards the wall. The power swelled and formed itself into a butterfly as it flew over to the wall. She was a bit miffed that the spell seemed to be so...weak? That is...until the butterfly flew at the wall and exploded in a fiery blast. However, the wall remained intact. "Well...that didn't work, but it looks cool! Didn't know I could do that!"

---

---

---

---

Nicholas nodded at Cal's decision, an eyebrow raising in response to his second point. “I do not write them off; I would have to give them a moment of thought to do so. What reason demands we bare ourselves to the scrutiny of those doomed to death before the turning of a century? The only thing they will leave us with are ghosts to follow us through the eons.” Nicholas replied, grimacing at Cal's observation. “He is a… problem. As foolish as a newborn baby and yet he wears the face of someone… someone who once tried to slay us. I do not know what to make of him.” Nicholas was not prepared to deal with those emotions in the empty hall and did not offer more to the story. Perhaps one day, he would offer it to Cal but tonight was not that. He would do it in the safety of his own domain with a drink or three and whatever manner of illicit substance he could get his hands on. Nicholas did trace the marks on Cal's back with his eyes, admiring what Cal so brazenly showed, before they were off again. If he hadn't already promised himself away, perhaps he would have lured Cal into an evening of indulgence.

Nicholas pressed his hand gently against Cal's for a moment. “It is his age, nothing more I am certain. I am sure there are things I have forgotten I once knew; my mind is not nearly as sharp as yours, and he has outlived both of us. Perhaps we can gather as a coven in his sitting room in the morning. He did offer us full permission and it will serve two purposes at once if it eases your concerns.” Nicholas suggested softly. He may not have the same cares for others but Cal had a special bond with Mikkail and if his friend needed his support, he supposed he could offer it to some degree.

The library was not far and at this hour, not particularly crowded. The more studious types were wrapped up in their work but it held far less that it had earlier. Nicholas navigated them back to the table they were at earlier, well situated in the spaces they would need to draw reference from. “Now, what did our… covenmates scrounge up between them? I do not know how star charts will assist, but I did have a brief, unpleasant interaction with the book he seeks in my earlier years. Perhaps we can use that to find a starting point. Though, between this and Jake and the Contest the other year, I would greatly appreciate it if my past stopped showing up. It bodes ill.” Nicholas sighed.

---

---

---

---

Franklin looked down, almost uncomfortable with what it was that Rohan had suggested. He wasn't against trying, but so far his magic had only been able to bestow the life of someone who had recently passed. What he considered mostly dead. There was something about someone who had been dead for longer periods, whether it be minutes, hours, or days, that made it increasingly difficult to bring them back as themselves. The more recent the event, the greater the chances. He could animate them, stitch the body and head back to bring it a semblance of life, but whoever that was before would be gone. Lost to the aether.

“They've been gone for longer than I'm used to. Bringing them back as they were would be a trial. Animating them would be easier, but I doubt that's what anyone here meant.”

Barty kept his opinion to himself about it all. Meddling with the dead, resurrecting old souls, all of it was courting an invitation with Death. Someone he and his dear brother had been trying to avoid for some time now. Rohan moved for his dagger, and Barty's hand instinctively went for his hex bag. Hands already around the components needed to enthrall another should anyone get to testy with him. He didn't survive this long for his death to be at the hands of two dimwitted witches and a hobo forest dwelling boy who reeked of curse magic. ”By all means, jump at every shadow that skulls the corners of these halls. It surely won't end poorly when surrounded by witches who can scarcely control their magic.” Barty looked to where Rohan had spied the shadow, seeing nothing of import. He doubted it was a witch's ghost. He made up all that nonsense to get a rise out of the others, as if anyone would be stupid enough to attempt the Witches Road.

The trail seemed to end at a wall. One that was apparently newly installed and blocking their path towards their goal. Cassie attempted to use her magic, but left nothing but a scotch against the stone. Franklin stood, analyzing the structure for a weak point to strike and break it down.
“I could try and use a bolt to blow the wall down? Depending on how sturdy it is and which direction we want it to fall…”

Barty chimed in, cutting Franklin off with an eye roll as he crossed his arms. ”No. Please. By all means. They don't call it grounding for no reason, strike the wall with electricity and see how well the stone takes it. Beyond the fact that when you do so if it does somehow succeed, then you'll be crushing the head if it is behind it. Honestly. If only we had a young witch with the power of transmutation at our hands. Somehow who could shift the very stone into something easier to break down such as wood that could burn, or paper if possible. Then maybe our dear Carrie could actually do something with her magic being creating soot.” He turned and looked at Connie pointedly as if to state he was disappointed that she hadn't even tried yet.

---

---

---

The magpies stared forward at the wall intently, leaning slightly as to get a better view, their necks jutting out. They did not blink. It was a stone wall, created from individual pieces. Whereas the majority of the wall was smooth and undisturbed, the portion directly in front of them - no bigger than a foot in length or width - had clearly been moved recently, the stones shoved back into place to seal it once more.

---

---

---

---

Something cold curled up in Jake, as he heard a strange edge in Rohan’s tone… directed at him. It took him aback for a moment, as he tried to figure out its meaning - tried to understand why his new friend would sound upset… but at him? The more he thought about it, the more that chill spread throughout him, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all. It felt the same as when he’d been stepped on the night before. He’d been warned about Nicky and Barty - should he have been warned about Rohan, too? Would Rohan - who seemed so wonderful with all his pets, so kind and gentle and caring and dashing - hurt him too?

He didn’t know how to regulate those emotions just yet, so he stared back at Rohan, his eyes strangely wet and misting.

“Y-yeah, I’m great!” Jake reassured Cassie, perking up for his best friend. “How are you? Are you having fun? Do you want to play together when this is over?” He cheered as Cassie conjured up a butterfly, watching in amazement as it fluttered out of her hand and collided with the wall, exploding in a burst of flames. Nothing had happened to the wall, but that was so cool! “That’s incredible!!!!” He’d already forgotten Rohan’s irritation with him not being quiet. “You gotta teach me how to do that, I wanna try, I wanna try!!!!”

And then, another thing occurred to him. “I have blood!” He pointed at his cheek, where the rouge had been applied. “Frankie used it to make my face pretty! Would that work? Can you use it?” he asked Finley.

He giggled at Barty’s joke. “Carrie! I get it! You’re so funny, Bally!”

Finley had stepped away from the wall when one of the new ones attempted to blow it up to no avail. They had little experience with such magic types and were a little intrigued. It lacked subtlety. If Jake had not already been shouting, their presence would certainly be marked now. Finley mentally made a note never to take the two of them hunting. They would be very bad at it.

Finley’s tongue very slowly came out and licked at their upper lip. Saliva shone upon it, and they breathed through their mouth. Looking at Jake’s cheeks. The place that Jake claimed Franklin had placed the blood. No wonder the pair smelled so strongly of it.

---

Connie glared at Barty. She was tempted to flip him off, but she restrained herself. “It is as if I had the opportunity to before people started using exploding butterflies.” The venom in her voice was directed at Barty, and she didn’t want Cassie to think she was mad at her.

“Not that that wasn’t a valiant effort.” She added, directing that to Cassie.

“Hmm, I thought it would be a trick of some sort. If it is just a wall...” Finley said, standing off to one side far enough that any potential debris from destruction would not hit them, but not so far that they too had to shout. Connie wondered if Jake had hearing damage from something.

Connie placed her hand on the wall, slightly to the side of where Cassie had caused her butterfly to explode. She stood there for a moment, feeling her way through the stone. There didn’t seem to be anything under it all other than stone. With her fingers pressed against the stone, she considered her options. She could change the material or move it. If she had been able to isolate something other than stone, she would have moved the material around, freeing the foreign material. Since she hadn’t found anything unusual, she figured transmuting it would be the better plan.

Connie slid her hand to the side, closer to where Finley had first indicated that the trail died. Then she pushed and pulled and reached through reality to reshape it around her desires. There was a delightful sensation that washed through her. It always did when she did this. And the stone shifted, it became paper. It wasn’t a large section of it, only about five feet by five feet, but likely it would be enough for them to continue their quest.

---

---

---

---

She was happy Jake seemed to be doing all right, though it was still unclear if he was saying so because he didn't want the others to worry or not. She would keep an eye on him. "I'm doing okay, I think? Never really been a fan of big, scary, dark basements, but then again I have never been in one, but new experiences and all that! Not too thrilled that the school I am attending doesn't seem to have such great security, what with a potential beheading and experiments and shadows being manipulated down here. But, it's fine! I'm fine! And yeah, we can play. We gotta get ready for the mani-pedi party happening!"

She felt a chill and didn't know if it was from the lasting effect of Jake or if the basement was creating the environment. She wanted to get out of here, but that would just lead to the others, especially Barty, wondering why she was even here. If magic school meant searching for beheaded corpses then gosh darn it, she would look for fricken' corpses.

Speaking of Barty, his snide comment and misnaming of her fueled her to press forward. She didn't care how skilled he was, how long he lived, or any other such facts. He and his brother were assholes and she would be damned if she was putting up with it. "Whatever you say, Farty." She chuckled a bit. Was it childish? Yes. Did he, more than likely, hear himself be called more clever names? Most likely. But it made her feel better.

Connie's words were laced with venom and Cassie briefly fell inwardly, wondering why someone she thought was so cool was being rude, when it became apparent the venom wasn't directed at her necessarily. It was a hastily put up wall, an explosion should have done something! But Connie had used her magic and transformed a portion of the wall from stone to paper. It was mad impressive! "That was so cool! And helpful! Now we can see what's behind wall number one!"

Cassie forgot, briefly, for a fleeting moment, what they were doing down here as she strode up to the wall and began to take the paper in her hands and rip it. She got through it with ease, marveling again at how skilled Connie was....

Until she got through. And laying there, fresh as can be, ripped apart wildly from his body, was the head of Pedrito.

Cassie stumbled back and nearly fell as she pointed to it. No words came out, but all she wanted to do was scream.

---

---

---

Rohan was a paranoid man. Literally jumping at shadows aside, anything down here could kill someone more power than him. Better witches and warlocks and magicians were taken by weaker forces for their mistakes. He didn’t dare let himself be [i]slow[/i/] to react down here. He kept his eyes mobile while the others hemmed and hawed about the wall there the trail was the strongest. Connie managed to turn the wall into paper, and they got it open. Good.

They stepped inside, and Rohan hung back just enough to not be inside the room. He looked over Cassie’s shoulder, and…

Yeah. There it was. Whoever it was, anyway. Rohan didn’t recognize the face on it. Some dark-skinned guy, and no body to be seen. The head wasn’t too damaged. No signs of disfigurement, it hadn’t been burned, or impale. It was easy to assume the head was taken off nice and simple. Perhaps with a bladed weapon of some kind. That came with its own implications.

”Damn,” Rohan commented, flatly.

Rohan looked around the room, keeping behind Connie and Cassie. Root trotted forward, stopping at Cassie’s side. He made a cooing noise and bowed his wooden head slightly.

Rohan’s altered vision illuminated a few things. Inside the room, there was… Nothing. No mystic forces stood out. The head had no magic, no life left. It’d probably be rough trying to animate.

”He can’t have been dead too long, but good luck rousing him. There’s nothing left but the flesh and bone. Probably a few hours ago, maybe longer.”

The brick-turned-paper wall glimmered with flecks of divine magic, the same magic that Connie glowed with. He’d seen that before, there was something inherently “godly” about her spells and the source they were derived from. And… Something else. With his mask, Connie’s magic looked like flecks of golden light floating around her, flickering in and out. But there was something else there, too thin and transparent for him to see clearly.

And Cassie, meanwhile, was practically on fire. Red energy whirling around her like a tornado, like it was alive. It looked like it was trying to take her over.

”Don’t know if it’s normal for you, Cassie, but you’ve got a lot of magic around you right now.” He knew chaos magic was… Finicky, but he didn’t quite know what was normal amounts of finicky and what wasn’t. ”And something’s off with you, Connie. No idea what, but it's coming off you like your magic does.”

Did someone just behead him and leave it down here? Why? Could it be that someone was luring something with it? Or was his body chopped up a lot more, and then shuffled around by this space?

Worse things could happen, at least.

---

---

---

---

Barty raised his eyebrow at the name Jake had managed to stumble out. His jaw tensed as his mind raced at what the punishment should be for such a crime. Sure he’d done it to the half-wit witch who dared to wield a similar magick to him with about as much finesse and love for the craft as a new born foal attempting to walk. ”A valiant effort indeed. Now we needs only use our heads and think before such efforts are wasted once more in the future. We are Witches, we use our wit to survive and press on, not brute force.” Cassie joined in on the distortion of his name, of the one thing he still held from his past, always changing yet remaining the same as old language became lost to time, shaping itself to survive like he and his brother had. If they couldn’t mind their tongues, he’d mind it for them. He pulled out a small container that held several cigarettes, though it was different from the one he’d usually pull out, more celebratory in appearance. Barty slipped out a cigarette from the container, sliding it back into his pocket, before placing the drug between his lips and holding it there as he fished out his lighter. He lit one end, taking in a breath as the heat washed over the mossy filter, burning at the sandalwood, allspice, thyme, and rosemary within the paper tube. He felt his magic wash over him, filling his lungs deeply as he held it in, taking the properties that aided in luck while influencing the ones for desire with his will.

Barty took a step forward, letting the smoke wash over both Jake and Cassie, cursing them, so that everytime they said his name incorrectly, they would bite their tongues on it so the sound couldn’t be uttered out. ” Don’t mind if I take a quick smoke while we’re down here do you all? Helps calm the nerves.” It smelled less like a cigarette and more like incense one would burn to help calm an area. Ye Olde Vape practically. As Cassie revealed the head behind the paper wall, Barty clicked his tongue in recognition. ”Oooooo. Him. That’s Pedrito. Didn’t even last a day…’ He took another long drag of his cigarette as he looked on at the Witch who came for a promise and left without his life, as so many witches had done before them. Barty barely acknowledged Franklin, but it was clear who he was talking to as he stared at the head. ”You, figure out what you can about this death, I wish to know what befell our fellow man so that we may better guard ourselves in the event…” There wouldn’t dare be a Witch Hunter within the school would there? Then again…Barty looked at Jake pointedly before taking a step back to allow Franklin some room to work.

Franklin nearly jumped as he was commanded to do something he was already planning to. But he knew better than to try and cross the twins. Connie could dance that line, but they cared for her in a weird way that they didn’t him. So he kneeled next to the head, taking in the information that he could as he worked out what little information he could without his lab or other pieces.

“It seems Rohan isn’t far off. Based on the heady temp, and the lack of insects that are present amongst his flesh or otherwise, I’d say a few hours…maybe within the last day. But it’s been very recent…as for how he died, it’s hard to say really. I would need to take the head back to the slab and see it with the rest of the parts. Compare injuries, bruising, a whole mess of work to determine what killed him and what was simply dismemberment. But that does mean that the pieces in my lab are his. Same coloration, temp, everything from what I can tell.”

---

---

---

---

Even though the display was angelic in nature, Annika was disappointed when Cassie’s butterfly didn’t work. The explosion was quite magnificent. It temporarily brightened the area, and Annika had taken a moment to take in their surroundings before they were plunged into darkness once more. Annika sighed happily. She always felt better in the shadows. She found it endearing that the others, particularly Rohan, were more on edge because of them. How would he respond to the Everdark, Annika wondered.

The magpies remained transfixed on the wall while Connie and Cassie worked further to uncover the mystery. Annika stepped closer until Cassie stumbled back. She looked pale and not altogether well. Annika took another step forward, peeking around others to get a glimpse of the head. She saw an ear but left the detective work to the others.

”Are you okay?” Annika asked Cassie, kneeling beside her.

---

---

---

---

”Hmm, I suppose if I weren’t trying to secure my species future, I would care less about the youth of today. Then again, the knowledge they carry,” Cal said, his eyes seeming to sparkle briefly before they dimmed with Nick’s admittance to who Jake was.

Cal had grown close to the twins, and he cared for them. He hadn’t claimed them like he had the moth, but he still felt obligated to serve and protect them. ”Should you require assistance, you have it.” Cal spoke simply, knowing Nicky would reveal more should he want to at a later time.

After leaving his room, the brush of Nicky’s hand brought great comfort to Callaghan. It was moments like these, when Cal could have Nick to himself, that he felt more connected and endeared to the witch. Although Nick pretended indifference, he always seemed to know what to say to provide Cal with the support and friendship he craved.

”Thank you, Nicholas.” He brushed his fingers back over Nick’s, even though he simply wished to take the witch’s hand in his own.

Cal unpacked his books and handed the journal to Nick to look through. ”The starcharts were to try and discover more on planet Krodha. If we could pinpoint the mystery's location, maybe we could learn more about the people who hold it. Then there are the witch trials…Although, I am curious if this mystery is linked a little more closely to you and your brother than you may be comfortable with,” Cal said. He sat down, opening his notebook and a book on Kramer to learn more about the eccentric man.

---

---

---

---

The corner of Nicholas's mouth twitched in amusement at the shifter's comment. True, Callaghan was unfortunately dependent on the young and novel for the sake of his life goal. He couldn't say he cared for anything other than his and his brother's skin to that degree, but he could appreciate the steadfast devotion to the ideal, especially with Nicholas and Barty doing their damnedest to change his course, drag him far away from his care for the survival of a whole and just focus on himself - it would be easier for him in the long run.

Nicholas felt warm at Callaghan's offer. Offers of help were usually pushy, demanding, invasive like they owed you after and Nicholas had always loathed it. Callaghan's felt like a warm cup of rum left at your elbow on a rainy day and it was one of several reasons the dragon's presence didn't grate on his nerves. He hummed at the offer, but left it at that. Hopefully, he could deal with this quietly and the fact it was ever an issue would just fade away from everyone's memory.

He settled in at the table, accepting the journal with a thoughtful frown. The spot Callaghan brushed against on his hand was warm and he brought his hand to his lips to press a kiss to the warmth. There was history here that would need to be unpacked. “Yes is the simple answer.” Nicholas murmured. He was afraid to open the diary of a madman, afraid to know what revelations the moth learned, afraid what this would bring back most of all. “But I do not know that I have the luxury of secrecy if we wish to see this through. Should my stubbornness demand I drag my feet, I suffer longer and run the risk of failure but should I bear my history, what color do our sins paint us in the light of day?” He sighed, tapping the journal lightly on the edge of the table.

“The witch hunts slaughtered our family, salted our earth, and scattered us to the winds on fire and soot. I certainly have poor opinions of this assignment.” Nicholas flipped open the journal and scanned a few pages. “This man, though, was certainly mad. Half of this is intelligible gibberish.” Nicholas blinked as his eyes teared up briefly, wiping them clear with quick efficiency. He frowned and flipped a page back and forth, holding it up to the light.

“Callaghan, can you look at this? I could have swore I saw something different for a moment.”

---

---

---

The magpies regarded the head with interest, chittering back and forth among themselves. And then, as if to say we told you so, they began to peck at Rohan’s ears and forehead, the irritating little things. However, that did not satisfy them for long, as they changed their target, pecking right above his mouth three times, before staring at him pointedly, unblinking.

---

---

---

---

Jake was absolutely fascinated at Connie’s display of magic, his eyes wide with admiration as she changed the wall into something a little more pliable, something more readily ripped and torn. Cassie didn’t miss a beat, tearing away at it to reveal their prize - the missing head! They could complete Frankie’s toy, now! He was about to jump for joy when he saw Cassie tumble backwards, completely silent but obviously terrified, pointing at what she had found. She was about to fall and he quickly threw out his arms, tucking one under each shoulder to hold her up and keep her steady. Annika knelt down next to her, asking if she was alright…

… and one of his favorite people did something that made Jake incredibly sad and confused. Barty blew smoke in his and Cassie’s faces. He wrinkled his nose, the smell of it something he could not quite place - it seemed… relaxing? Oh! The sadness lifted, as he realized Barty was just trying to help! He wanted Cassie to be able to smell some nice, relaxing smoke and breathe it all in after she’d been so scared! “Thank you! Can she have that, maybe? It might help a lot!”

He understood the instruction, too, as Barty went on about guarding - and how he looked right at Jake! That was his job, his purpose here. He was supposed to protect everyone. If something was killing students, he was going to keep Cassie and everyone safe. “I’ll keep all of you safe - I promise!” he preened, still holding onto Cassie to steady her. He was curious about the head, especially as Frankie mentioned it matched the body parts upstairs. He didn’t know how these things worked - he didn’t know how anything worked - but if they could figure out what had happened to this student, then Jake could figure out how to stop it from happening to anyone else.

He tilted his head for a moment, thinking. Maybe they should all sleep in the same place! Then he could keep an eye on everyone while they slept and make sure nothing bad happened to them! And they could play!!! “I have a plan,” he puffed up his chest. “Everyone gets pedi-manis and we all sleep together. I can watch everyone sleep. And if something tries to hurt you, I'll stop it! It'll be so easy and so fun!”

---

---

---

---

When was the last time she saw a dead person?

It had to be when she was younger. A family member surely. Was it her grandparent? No, they were still around. Had it been an aunt or uncle, a second cousin? It hadn't clicked for her because she didn't know them well enough to be sad. She remembered the eyes on her and her family though. She played the part well, she felt. Looking sad, casually wiping away tears that weren't there, oh woe is me for missing so-and-so, gone too soon.

Weirdly enough she recalled that her father was more sad than either her or her mother. Her father did not show emotion easily nor readily. Still, here he was.....sad wasn't the right word for it. He was worried, afraid? Who was it in the coffin and why did he look so..?

She was pulled back to the present when she felt arms around her. She looked to see Jake holding on to her, not letting her fall as she felt her knees weaken slightly. Annika was also in her field of view, saying something Cassie could only casually catch. She didn't even care about Barty's stupid smoke trick nor Rohan's comment about whatever magic seemed to be surging around her. She only cared about the fact they found what they were looking for.

"I'm okay, I'm fine," she said for their benefit, despite the swirling emotional roller coaster she felt herself on. What had she expected exactly? Did she really think there was a headless corpse in the basement? Or was she signing up to show she was brave and that she eserved to be amongst this group of clearly more experienced witches and warlocks? Surely a part of her, the chaos magic that made itself home inside of her, expected it, nourished in it, desired it. What's life without chaos? What's death without chaos?

"Thank you Jake. And you too, Annika. I'm fine." To show it, she stood up, releasing herself from Jake and walked forward a bit. "Mani-pedis are definitely needed now. But before that, what do we do about....the head? And where's the body?" Did they tell a teacher? The head of the school? What were the rules for this now?

Chaos. That was it. She felt chaos. And it felt...good.

---

---

---

"Quit jabbing at me," Rohan groused, waving at the magpies perched on him. "I never said you were lying. We should... Hm, someone ought to know he's dead. He's probably been missed already, and I wouldn't rule out the chance he knew better than to come down here." Some people weren't able to get this deep into the dungeons to begin with, they would just lose their way before. "Small chance something got in, cut him up and left him here, but these magpies got in somehow. If they can, something bigger, something smarter could."

Rohan was very interested in knowing what happened, like Barty. "Awfully clean cut, probably wasn't an animal. Yeah, I want to know what did this. I don't see much in here except our magic. Seems like our cue to go back upstairs." Who would be the best person to talk to about this? Marino was unhinged, Croan was liable to give a negative number of fucks about a dead student, he didn't know enough about Mikhail that he'd even trust the guy with this. And there was no way Rohan would be getting ahold of someone like the big man in the red cape himself.

Maybe someone responsible for the security of the pocket dimension they were in. Since clearly something was amiss.

---

---

---

---

Annika stood as Cassie got up. She smiled at Jake’s eagerness to keep everyone safe. However, there was no way Annika was going to stay in a room with all of these people. Unless they were camping. She wasn’t completely sure she believed Cassi’s statement about being fine, but who was she to question it. Annika nodded, stepping aside to look back at the hole in the wall.

”I believe Frankie has the body. At least that’s what it sounded like. Should we take the head with us?” She looked over at the others, wondering how they felt about that plan, when she noticed Rohan’s plight with the magpies.

Annika was used to animals being more human-like from time to time. Her familiar was one of them. But she hadn’t seen magpies act like this before. She cocked her head to the side, like a curious cat, as they started to peck at Rohan’s mouth. Annika remembered the birds did seem to want them to come down here to look for the head. Perhaps they were trying to tell them something?

Annika stepped closer to the head, peering through the hole Cassi made. Something bulged around the mouth.

Curious.

Annika made a bigger hole in the paper wall and stepped through. Nochella, ever present when weirdness was afoot, guided her over to the head. The black cat seemed to melt around the head as Annika knelt down. After a brief outer examination, Annika pulled the corpse’s lips apart—revealing something that shouldn’t be there.

”Curious and curiousor,” she quoted. ”What do you suppose this means?” she asked whoever dared to look with her.

Between the lips of the head rested three dead beetles, each bearing a different head. One with the face of a dolphin, another with the face of a seagull, another with the face of a panda. All bearing a Mexican sugar skull design on their back.

---

---

---

---

Cal’s eyes tracked Nicky as he moved the hand Cal brushed to his lips to kiss. Cal felt flushed and quickly looked away. He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat to make a real effort in unlocking the mystery of Kramer.

The sound of Cal’s pen scribbling notes against paper faded into the background as Nick spoke. The faint smell of cigar smoke and the taste of strong brandy tickled the back of Cal’s throat as late-night memories of Haven circled through his mind. Memories where everyone else was sleeping, leaving three awake to talk about lives long gone. But those were the rare moments. The ones that passed quickly and weren’t spoken about again until too much drink loosened minds and memories once more.

The text Callaghan read on Kramer revealed that he was the father of the witch hunts. A German priest with a penchant for communicating, Kramer wrote the Malleus Malificarium and circulated it because he saw a perceived danger of magic. His evangelic-like being whipped his congregation into a frenzy against his supposed “enemies.” He created a movement that would culminate in hundreds of years of bloodshed, despite the Church's ultimate condemnation of his work many years later.

Cal switched his focus from writing to Nicky once the witch spoke his name. Cal set his pen down, marking his place in the text before he took the journal.

The sentences within were definitely those of a madman, but Cal couldn’t help but feel there was something there. Some secret, some obsession that Kramer had to tell the world. Cal felt a sudden kinship with the dead man, despite his questionable practices and narrow-mindedness.

As Cal continued to stare at the pages, searching for what Nicky saw, 14 eyes swam beneath the pages. They seemed to drift aimlessly until they noticed Cal watching, then focused on him.

”Were they eyes?” Cal asked. He was transfixed by the unique 14 eyes. Were they the disciples of Kramer? Or something other? He felt their curiosity, realization, and then despair pressing against his mind before a sudden wave of exhaustion overwhelmed him. Cal blinked rapidly, feeling wobbly and suddenly dropped the book. He shook his head in an effort to dispel the blackness that was creeping along the periphery of his vision.

“I can confirm that the smell of blood between the head is the same as that on Franklin and Jake,” Finley verified that for everyone. Now that the head had been found, they were not needed. Maybe for the return trip as the guide again, but that was not as necessary. It was theoretically easier to return to the upstairs area.

Finley stood, watching behind them as everyone’s attention was on the head. This place was dangerous enough that they should not leave their backs unwatched. Finley said the next thing slightly over their shoulder.

“When you have satisfied yourselves with looking, let me know. We should not linger here; however, I can ride his blood and see if he knew what killed him.” Riding the blood on the tide of a death was dangerous. One of the most dangerous things Finley could do. Because if they did it wrong, they could ride the death completely and be pulled into death themself.

---

When the head was first revealed, Connie winced, ever so slightly. Not from fear, not even disgust. But at the sight of death. Her body ached for a moment in the knowledge that she was much too late. She was a powerful healer, but not this powerful. Even still, she felt an urge to reach out and try to heal him, to pull him back to the land of the living. She tucked her hands behind her back and sighed.

It was her roommate and covenmate. A part of her had hoped it wouldn’t be, and his continued absence would remain a mystery. She looked at the head, watching as Franklin and Annika both examined it.

“Frankie, if you need help with the autopsy, let me know.”

She frowned as Annika revealed the beetles. The sugar skulls she recognized as part of the Mexican culture. If she remembered correctly, that was connected with the Day of the Dead. Her frown deepened. They would have to inform his family as quickly as possible. They needed to know, for the sake of his soul. Today was the Day of the Dead. Beetles themselves were sometimes used as a means of protection - guardians of the home. The tidbit that came to her memory that was most interesting was their use as messengers. Was this a message? If it was the message was esoteric enough to be unclear without research.

“Perhaps we should relocate to Frankie’s lab. Unless someone thinks they can get more information from the location.” Finley was right, they shouldn’t linger here too long.

---

---

---

At Rohan’s request, the magpies ceased pecking at him… for now. Their chittering had an almost mocking tone to it, as if they prided themselves on being able to enter the school without much difficulty. Or perhaps they were simply birds, without the intelligence that the mage afforded to them.

One of them flew off his shoulder and landed on the head.

---

---

---

---

Relief filled him as Cassie reassured everyone that she was fine, removing herself from Jake’s hold and standing up again under her own power. He didn’t know what he would have done had something happened to her - had something happened to any one of them. They were all his dearest friends in the world, and as no one had protested his idea of standing guard while they slept, he planned to do exactly that tonight. It would be so fun, having all the people he loved most in the world all together, too! They just needed Nicky and Willow and Cal and it would be complete! And then, his eyes widened.

Rohan had said if the birds could get inside, something else could get inside. “Should we warn the others, then? They don’t know that there’s a magpie sized killer on the loose!” His face paled, the color draining from his face in a manner of seconds. “Nicky needs to know! And Willow! And Cal! What if it got them? Oh no, oh no, I don’t like that - that isn’t fun, that isn’t good, we need to make sure that everyone is safe before anything bad happens.” His chest felt strangely tight, his fingertips ice cold, and he heard a ringing noise that hadn’t been there before.

He was more than ready to leave the dungeons and go back upstairs, desperate to get eyes on the others in case Rohan was right. “I can stand guard while you look at the body!” The tightness in his chest was relieved slightly by that idea. He didn’t know what it would be like when Finley rode the blood - he didn’t know that blood could transport people - but he knew that his friends needed him now more than ever. And he had already taken a turn playing with Frankie, he could let someone else do it.