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I thought y'all should read this

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End the Phone-Based Childhood Now

The environment in which kids grow up today is hostile to human development.

By Jonathan Haidt

Something went suddenly and horribly wrong for adolescents in the early 2010s. By now you’ve likely seen the statistics: Rates of depression and anxiety in the United States—fairly stable in the 2000s—rose by more than 50 percent in many studies from 2010 to 2019. The suicide rate rose 48 percent for adolescents ages 10 to 19. For girls ages 10 to 14, it rose 131 percent.

The problem was not limited to the U.S.: Similar patterns emerged around the same time in Canada, the U.K., Australia, New Zealand, the Nordic countries, and beyond. By a variety of measures and in a variety of countries, the members of Generation Z (born in and after 1996) are suffering from anxiety, depression, self-harm, and related disorders at levels higher than any other generation for which we have data.

The decline in mental health is just one of many signs that something went awry. Loneliness and friendlessness among American teens began to surge around 2012. Academic achievement went down, too. According to “The Nation’s Report Card,” scores in reading and math began to decline for U.S. students after 2012, reversing decades of slow but generally steady increase. PISA, the major international measure of educational trends, shows that declines in math, reading, and science happened globally, also beginning in the early 2010s.

As the oldest members of Gen Z reach their late 20s, their troubles are carrying over into adulthood. Young adults are dating less, having less sex, and showing less interest in ever having children than prior generations. They are more likelyto live with their parents. They were less likely to get jobs as teens, and managers say they are harder to work with. Many of these trends began with earlier generations, but most of them accelerated with Gen Z.

Surveys show that members of Gen Z are shyer and more risk averse than previous generations, too, and risk aversion may make them less ambitious. In an interview last May, OpenAI co-founder Sam Altman and Stripe co-founder Patrick Collison noted that, for the first time since the 1970s, none of Silicon Valley’s preeminent entrepreneurs are under 30. “Something has really gone wrong,” Altman said. In a famously young industry, he was baffled by the sudden absence of great founders in their 20s.

Generations are not monolithic, of course. Many young people are flourishing. Taken as a whole, however, Gen Z is in poor mental health and is lagging behind previous generations on many important metrics. And if a generation is doing poorly––if it is more anxious and depressed and is starting families, careers, and important companies at a substantially lower rate than previous generations––then the sociological and economic consequences will be profound for the entire society.

What happened in the early 2010s that altered adolescent development and worsened mental health? Theories abound, but the fact that similar trends are found in many countries worldwide means that events and trends that are specific to the United States cannot be the main story.

I think the answer can be stated simply, although the underlying psychology is complex: Those were the years when adolescents in rich countries traded in their flip phones for smartphones and moved much more of their social lives online—particularly onto social-media platforms designed for virality and addiction. Once young people began carrying the entire internet in their pockets, available to them day and night, it altered their daily experiences and developmental pathways across the board. Friendship, dating, sexuality, exercise, sleep, academics, politics, family dynamics, identity—all were affected. Life changed rapidly for younger children, too, as they began to get access to their parents’ smartphones and, later, got their own iPads, laptops, and even smartphones during elementary school.

As a social psychologist who has long studied social and moral development, I have been involved in debates about the effects of digital technology for years. Typically, the scientific questions have been framed somewhat narrowly, to make them easier to address with data. For example, do adolescents who consume more social media have higher levels of depression? Does using a smartphone just before bedtime interfere with sleep? The answer to these questions is usually found to be yes, although the size of the relationship is often statistically small, which has led some researchers to conclude that these new technologies are not responsible for the gigantic increases in mental illness that began in the early 2010s.

But before we can evaluate the evidence on any one potential avenue of harm, we need to step back and ask a broader question: What is childhood––including adolescence––and how did it change when smartphones moved to the center of it? If we take a more holistic view of what childhood is and what young children, tweens, and teens need to do to mature into competent adults, the picture becomes much clearer. Smartphone-based life, it turns out, alters or interferes with a great number of developmental processes.

The intrusion of smartphones and social media are not the only changes that have deformed childhood. There’s an important backstory, beginning as long ago as the 1980s, when we started systematically depriving children and adolescents of freedom, unsupervised play, responsibility, and opportunities for risk taking, all of which promote competence, maturity, and mental health. But the change in childhood accelerated in the early 2010s, when an already independence-deprived generation was lured into a new virtual universe that seemed safe to parents but in fact is more dangerous, in many respects, than the physical world.

My claim is that the new phone-based childhood that took shape roughly 12 years ago is making young people sick and blocking their progress to flourishing in adulthood. We need a dramatic cultural correction, and we need it now.

1. The Decline of Play and Independence

Human brains are extraordinarily large compared with those of other primates, and human childhoods are extraordinarily long, too, to give those large brains time to wire up within a particular culture. A child’s brain is already 90 percent of its adult size by about age 6. The next 10 or 15 years are about learning norms and mastering skills—physical, analytical, creative, and social. As children and adolescents seek out experiences and practice a wide variety of behaviors, the synapses and neurons that are used frequently are retained while those that are used less often disappear. Neurons that fire together wire together, as brain researchers say.

Brain development is sometimes said to be “experience-expectant,” because specific parts of the brain show increased plasticity during periods of life when an animal’s brain can “expect” to have certain kinds of experiences. You can see this with baby geese, who will imprint on whatever mother-sized object moves in their vicinity just after they hatch. You can see it with human children, who are able to learn languages quickly and take on the local accent, but only through early puberty; after that, it’s hard to learn a language and sound like a native speaker. There is also some evidence of a sensitive period for cultural learning more generally. Japanese children who spent a few years in California in the 1970s came to feel “American” in their identity and ways of interacting only if they attended American schools for a few years between ages 9 and 15. If they left before age 9, there was no lasting impact. If they didn’t arrive until they were 15, it was too late; they didn’t come to feel American.

Human childhood is an extended cultural apprenticeship with different tasks at different ages all the way through puberty. Once we see it this way, we can identify factors that promote or impede the right kinds of learning at each age. For children of all ages, one of the most powerful drivers of learning is the strong motivation to play. Play is the work of childhood, and all young mammals have the same job: to wire up their brains by playing vigorously and often, practicing the moves and skills they’ll need as adults. Kittens will play-pounce on anything that looks like a mouse tail. Human children will play games such as tag and sharks and minnows, which let them practice both their predator skills and their escaping-from-predator skills. Adolescents will play sports with greater intensity, and will incorporate playfulness into their social interactions—flirting, teasing, and developing inside jokes that bond friends together. Hundreds of studies on young rats, monkeys, and humans show that young mammals want to play, need to play, and end up socially, cognitively, and emotionally impaired when they are deprived of play.

One crucial aspect of play is physical risk taking. Children and adolescents must take risks and fail—often—in environments in which failure is not very costly. This is how they extend their abilities, overcome their fears, learn to estimate risk, and learn to cooperate in order to take on larger challenges later. The ever-present possibility of getting hurt while running around, exploring, play-fighting, or getting into a real conflict with another group adds an element of thrill, and thrilling play appears to be the most effective kind for overcoming childhood anxieties and building social, emotional, and physical competence. The desire for risk and thrill increases in the teen years, when failure might carry more serious consequences. Children of all ages need to choose the risk they are ready for at a given moment. Young people who are deprived of opportunities for risk taking and independent exploration will, on average, develop into more anxious and risk-averse adults.

Human childhood and adolescence evolved outdoors, in a physical world full of dangers and opportunities. Its central activities––play, exploration, and intense socializing––were largely unsupervised by adults, allowing children to make their own choices, resolve their own conflicts, and take care of one another. Shared adventures and shared adversity bound young people together into strong friendship clusters within which they mastered the social dynamics of small groups, which prepared them to master bigger challenges and larger groups later on.

And then we changed childhood.

The changes started slowly in the late 1970s and ’80s, before the arrival of the internet, as many parents in the U.S. grew fearful that their children would be harmed or abducted if left unsupervised. Such crimes have always been extremely rare, but they loomed larger in parents’ minds thanks in part to rising levels of street crime combined with the arrival of cable TV, which enabled round-the-clock coverage of missing-children cases. A general decline in social capital––the degree to which people knew and trusted their neighbors and institutions––exacerbated parental fears. Meanwhile, rising competition for college admissions encouraged more intensive forms of parenting. In the 1990s, American parents began pulling their children indoors or insisting that afternoons be spent in adult-run enrichment activities. Free play, independent exploration, and teen-hangout time declined.

In recent decades, seeing unchaperoned children outdoors has become so novel that when one is spotted in the wild, some adults feel it is their duty to call the police. In 2015, the Pew Research Center found that parents, on average, believed that children should be at least 10 years old to play unsupervised in front of their house, and that kids should be 14 before being allowed to go unsupervised to a public park. Most of these same parents had enjoyed joyous and unsupervised outdoor play by the age of 7 or 8.

2. The Virtual World Arrives in Two Waves

The internet, which now dominates the lives of young people, arrived in two waves of linked technologies. The first one did little harm to Millennials. The second one swallowed Gen Z whole.

The first wave came ashore in the 1990s with the arrival of dial-up internet access, which made personal computers good for something beyond word processing and basic games. By 2003, 55 percent of American households had a computer with (slow) internet access. Rates of adolescent depression, loneliness, and other measures of poor mental health did not rise in this first wave. If anything, they went down a bit. Millennial teens (born 1981 through 1995), who were the first to go through puberty with access to the internet, were psychologically healthier and happier, on average, than their older siblings or parents in Generation X (born 1965 through 1980).

The second wave began to rise in the 2000s, though its full force didn’t hit until the early 2010s. It began rather innocently with the introduction of social-media platforms that helped people connect with their friends. Posting and sharing content became much easier with sites such as Friendster (launched in 2003), Myspace (2003), and Facebook (2004).

Teens embraced social media soon after it came out, but the time they could spend on these sites was limited in those early years because the sites could only be accessed from a computer, often the family computer in the living room. Young people couldn’t access social media (and the rest of the internet) from the school bus, during class time, or while hanging out with friends outdoors. Many teens in the early-to-mid-2000s had cellphones, but these were basic phones (many of them flip phones) that had no internet access. Typing on them was difficult––they had only number keys. Basic phones were tools that helped Millennials meet up with one another in person or talk with each other one-on-one. I have seen no evidence to suggest that basic cellphones harmed the mental health of Millennials.

It was not until the introduction of the iPhone (2007), the App Store (2008), and high-speed internet (which reached 50 percent of American homes in 2007)—and the corresponding pivot to mobile made by many providers of social media, video games, and porn—that it became possible for adolescents to spend nearly every waking moment online. The extraordinary synergy among these innovations was what powered the second technological wave. In 2011, only 23 percent of teens had a smartphone. By 2015, that number had risen to 73 percent, and a quarter of teens said they were online “almost constantly.” Their younger siblings in elementary school didn’t usually have their own smartphones, but after its release in 2010, the iPad quickly became a staple of young children’s daily lives. It was in this brief period, from 2010 to 2015, that childhood in America (and many other countries) was rewired into a form that was more sedentary, solitary, virtual, and incompatible with healthy human development.

3. Techno-optimism and the Birth of the Phone-Based Childhood

The phone-based childhood created by that second wave—including not just smartphones themselves, but all manner of internet-connected devices, such as tablets, laptops, video-game consoles, and smartwatches—arrived near the end of a period of enormous optimism about digital technology. The internet came into our lives in the mid-1990s, soon after the fall of the Soviet Union. By the end of that decade, it was widely thought that the web would be an ally of democracy and a slayer of tyrants. When people are connected to each other, and to all the information in the world, how could any dictator keep them down?

In the 2000s, Silicon Valley and its world-changing inventions were a source of pride and excitement in America. Smart and ambitious young people around the world wanted to move to the West Coast to be part of the digital revolution. Tech-company founders such as Steve Jobs and Sergey Brin were lauded as gods, or at least as modern Prometheans, bringing humans godlike powers. The Arab Spring bloomed in 2011 with the help of decentralized social platforms, including Twitter and Facebook. When pundits and entrepreneurs talked about the power of social media to transform society, it didn’t sound like a dark prophecy.

You have to put yourself back in this heady time to understand why adults acquiesced so readily to the rapid transformation of childhood. Many parents had concerns, even then, about what their children were doing online, especially because of the internet’s ability to put children in contact with strangers. But there was also a lot of excitement about the upsides of this new digital world. If computers and the internet were the vanguards of progress, and if young people––widely referred to as “digital natives”––were going to live their lives entwined with these technologies, then why not give them a head start? I remember how exciting it was to see my 2-year-old son master the touch-and-swipe interface of my first iPhone in 2008. I thought I could see his neurons being woven together faster as a result of the stimulation it brought to his brain, compared to the passivity of watching television or the slowness of building a block tower. I thought I could see his future job prospects improving.

Touchscreen devices were also a godsend for harried parents. Many of us discovered that we could have peace at a restaurant, on a long car trip, or at home while making dinner or replying to emails if we just gave our children what they most wanted: our smartphones and tablets. We saw that everyone else was doing it and figured it must be okay.

It was the same for older children, desperate to join their friends on social-media platforms, where the minimum age to open an account was set by law to 13, even though no research had been done to establish the safety of these products for minors. Because the platforms did nothing (and still do nothing) to verify the stated age of new-account applicants, any 10-year-old could open multiple accounts without parental permission or knowledge, and many did. Facebook and later Instagram became places where many sixth and seventh graders were hanging out and socializing. If parents did find out about these accounts, it was too late. Nobody wanted their child to be isolated and alone, so parents rarely forced their children to shut down their accounts.

We had no idea what we were doing.

4. The High Cost of a Phone-Based Childhood

In Walden, his 1854 reflection on simple living, Henry David Thoreau wrote, “The cost of a thing is the amount of … life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.” It’s an elegant formulation of what economists would later call the opportunity cost of any choice—all of the things you can no longer do with your money and time once you’ve committed them to something else. So it’s important that we grasp just how much of a young person’s day is now taken up by their devices.

The numbers are hard to believe. The most recent Gallup data show that American teens spend about five hours a day just on social-media platforms (including watching videos on TikTok and YouTube). Add in all the other phone- and screen-based activities, and the number rises to somewhere between seven and nine hours a day, on average. The numbers are even higher in single-parent and low-income families, and among Black, Hispanic, and Native American families.

In Thoreau’s terms, how much of life is exchanged for all this screen time? Arguably, most of it. Everything else in an adolescent’s day must get squeezed down or eliminated entirely to make room for the vast amount of content that is consumed, and for the hundreds of “friends,” “followers,” and other network connections that must be serviced with texts, posts, comments, likes, snaps, and direct messages. I recently surveyed my students at NYU, and most of them reported that the very first thing they do when they open their eyes in the morning is check their texts, direct messages, and social-media feeds. It’s also the last thing they do before they close their eyes at night. And it’s a lot of what they do in between.

The amount of time that adolescents spend sleeping declined in the early 2010s, and many studies tie sleep loss directly to the use of devices around bedtime, particularly when they’re used to scroll through social media. Exercise declined, too, which is unfortunate because exercise, like sleep, improves both mental and physical health. Book reading has been declining for decades, pushed aside by digital alternatives, but the decline, like so much else, sped up in the early 2010s. With passive entertainment always available, adolescent minds likely wander less than they used to; contemplation and imagination might be placed on the list of things winnowed down or crowded out.

But perhaps the most devastating cost of the new phone-based childhood was the collapse of time spent interacting with other people face-to-face. A study of how Americans spend their time found that, before 2010, young people (ages 15 to 24) reported spending far more time with their friends (about two hours a day, on average, not counting time together at school) than did older people (who spent just 30 to 60 minutes with friends). Time with friends began decreasing for young people in the 2000s, but the drop accelerated in the 2010s, while it barely changed for older people. By 2019, young people’s time with friends had dropped to just 67 minutes a day. It turns out that Gen Z had been socially distancing for many years and had mostly completed the project by the time COVID-19 struck.

You might question the importance of this decline. After all, isn’t much of this online time spent interacting with friends through texting, social media, and multiplayer video games? Isn’t that just as good?

Some of it surely is, and virtual interactions offer unique benefits too, especially for young people who are geographically or socially isolated. But in general, the virtual world lacks many of the features that make human interactions in the real world nutritious, as we might say, for physical, social, and emotional development. In particular, real-world relationships and social interactions are characterized by four features—typical for hundreds of thousands of years—that online interactions either distort or erase.

First, real-world interactions are embodied, meaning that we use our hands and facial expressions to communicate, and we learn to respond to the body language of others. Virtual interactions, in contrast, mostly rely on language alone. No matter how many emojis are offered as compensation, the elimination of communication channels for which we have eons of evolutionary programming is likely to produce adults who are less comfortable and less skilled at interacting in person.

Second, real-world interactions are synchronous; they happen at the same time. As a result, we learn subtle cues about timing and conversational turn taking. Synchronous interactions make us feel closer to the other person because that’s what getting “in sync” does. Texts, posts, and many other virtual interactions lack synchrony. There is less real laughter, more room for misinterpretation, and more stress after a comment that gets no immediate response.

Third, real-world interactions primarily involve one‐to‐one communication, or sometimes one-to-several. But many virtual communications are broadcast to a potentially huge audience. Online, each person can engage in dozens of asynchronous interactions in parallel, which interferes with the depth achieved in all of them. The sender’s motivations are different, too: With a large audience, one’s reputation is always on the line; an error or poor performance can damage social standing with large numbers of peers. These communications thus tend to be more performative and anxiety-inducing than one-to-one conversations.

Finally, real-world interactions usually take place within communities that have a high bar for entry and exit, so people are strongly motivated to invest in relationships and repair rifts when they happen. But in many virtual networks, people can easily block others or quit when they are displeased. Relationships within such networks are usually more disposable.

These unsatisfying and anxiety-producing features of life online should be recognizable to most adults. Online interactions can bring out antisocial behavior that people would never display in their offline communities. But if life online takes a toll on adults, just imagine what it does to adolescents in the early years of puberty, when their “experience expectant” brains are rewiring based on feedback from their social interactions.

Kids going through puberty online are likely to experience far more social comparison, self-consciousness, public shaming, and chronic anxiety than adolescents in previous generations, which could potentially set developing brains into a habitual state of defensiveness. The brain contains systems that are specialized for approach (when opportunities beckon) and withdrawal (when threats appear or seem likely). People can be in what we might call “discover mode” or “defend mode” at any moment, but generally not both. The two systems together form a mechanism for quickly adapting to changing conditions, like a thermostat that can activate either a heating system or a cooling system as the temperature fluctuates. Some people’s internal thermostats are generally set to discover mode, and they flip into defend mode only when clear threats arise. These people tend to see the world as full of opportunities. They are happier and less anxious. Other people’s internal thermostats are generally set to defend mode, and they flip into discover mode only when they feel unusually safe. They tend to see the world as full of threats and are more prone to anxiety and depressive disorders.

A simple way to understand the differences between Gen Z and previous generations is that people born in and after 1996 have internal thermostats that were shifted toward defend mode. This is why life on college campuses changed so suddenly when Gen Z arrived, beginning around 2014. Students began requesting “safe spaces” and trigger warnings. They were highly sensitive to “microaggressions” and sometimes claimed that words were “violence.” These trends mystified those of us in older generations at the time, but in hindsight, it all makes sense. Gen Z students found words, ideas, and ambiguous social encounters more threatening than had previous generations of students because we had fundamentally altered their psychological development.

5. So Many Harms

The debate around adolescents’ use of smartphones and social media typically revolves around mental health, and understandably so. But the harms that have resulted from transforming childhood so suddenly and heedlessly go far beyondmental health. I’ve touched on some of them—social awkwardness, reduced self-confidence, and a more sedentary childhood. Here are three additional harms.

Fragmented Attention, Disrupted Learning

Staying on task while sitting at a computer is hard enough for an adult with a fully developed prefrontal cortex. It is far more difficult for adolescents in front of their laptop trying to do homework. They are probably less intrinsically motivated to stay on task. They’re certainly less able, given their undeveloped prefrontal cortex, and hence it’s easy for any company with an app to lure them away with an offer of social validation or entertainment. Their phones are pinging constantly—one study found that the typical adolescent now gets 237 notifications a day, roughly 15 every waking hour. Sustained attention is essential for doing almost anything big, creative, or valuable, yet young people find their attention chopped up into little bits by notifications offering the possibility of high-pleasure, low-effort digital experiences.

It even happens in the classroom. Studies confirm that when students have access to their phones during class time, they use them, especially for texting and checking social media, and their grades and learning suffer. This might explain why benchmark test scores began to decline in the U.S. and around the world in the early 2010s—well before the pandemic hit.

Addiction and Social Withdrawal

The neural basis of behavioral addiction to social media or video games is not exactly the same as chemical addiction to cocaine or opioids. Nonetheless, they all involve abnormally heavy and sustained activation of dopamine neurons and reward pathways. Over time, the brain adapts to these high levels of dopamine; when the child is not engaged in digital activity, their brain doesn’t have enough dopamine, and the child experiences withdrawal symptoms. These generally include anxiety, insomnia, and intense irritability. Kids with these kinds of behavioral addictions often become surly and aggressive, and withdraw from their families into their bedrooms and devices.

Social-media and gaming platforms were designed to hook users. How successful are they? How many kids suffer from digital addictions?

The main addiction risks for boys seem to be video games and porn. “Internet gaming disorder,” which was added to the main diagnosis manual of psychiatry in 2013 as a condition for further study, describes “significant impairment or distress” in several aspects of life, along with many hallmarks of addiction, including an inability to reduce usage despite attempts to do so. Estimates for the prevalence of IGD range from 7 to 15 percent among adolescent boys and young men. As for porn, a nationally representative survey of American adults published in 2019 found that 7 percent of American men agreed or strongly agreed with the statement “I am addicted to pornography”—and the rates were higher for the youngest men.

Girls have much lower rates of addiction to video games and porn, but they use social media more intensely than boys do. A study of teens in 29 nations found that between 5 and 15 percent of adolescents engage in what is called “problematic social media use,” which includes symptoms such as preoccupation, withdrawal symptoms, neglect of other areas of life, and lying to parents and friends about time spent on social media. That study did not break down results by gender, but many others have found that rates of “problematic use” are higher for girls.

I don’t want to overstate the risks: Most teens do not become addicted to their phones and video games. But across multiple studies and across genders, rates of problematic use come out in the ballpark of 5 to 15 percent. Is there any other consumer product that parents would let their children use relatively freely if they knew that something like one in 10 kids would end up with a pattern of habitual and compulsive use that disrupted various domains of life and looked a lot like an addiction?

The Decay of Wisdom and the Loss of Meaning

During that crucial sensitive period for cultural learning, from roughly ages 9 through 15, we should be especially thoughtful about who is socializing our children for adulthood. Instead, that’s when most kids get their first smartphone and sign themselves up (with or without parental permission) to consume rivers of content from random strangers. Much of that content is produced by other adolescents, in blocks of a few minutes or a few seconds.

This rerouting of enculturating content has created a generation that is largely cut off from older generations and, to some extent, from the accumulated wisdom of humankind, including knowledge about how to live a flourishing life. Adolescents spend less time steeped in their local or national culture. They are coming of age in a confusing, placeless, ahistorical maelstrom of 30-second stories curated by algorithms designed to mesmerize them. Without solid knowledge of the past and the filtering of good ideas from bad––a process that plays out over many generations––young people will be more prone to believe whatever terrible ideas become popular around them, which might explain why videos showing young people reacting positively to Osama bin Laden’s thoughts about America were trending on TikTok last fall.

All this is made worse by the fact that so much of digital public life is an unending supply of micro dramas about somebody somewhere in our country of 340 million people who did something that can fuel an outrage cycle, only to be pushed aside by the next. It doesn’t add up to anything and leaves behind only a distorted sense of human nature and affairs.

When our public life becomes fragmented, ephemeral, and incomprehensible, it is a recipe for anomie, or normlessness. The great French sociologist Émile Durkheim showed long ago that a society that fails to bind its people together with some shared sense of sacredness and common respect for rules and norms is not a society of great individual freedom; it is, rather, a place where disoriented individuals have difficulty setting goals and exerting themselves to achieve them. Durkheim argued that anomie was a major driver of suicide rates in European countries. Modern scholars continue to draw on his work to understand suicide rates today.

Durkheim’s observations are crucial for understanding what happened in the early 2010s. A long-running survey of American teens found that, from 1990 to 2010, high-school seniors became slightly less likely to agree with statements such as “Life often feels meaningless.” But as soon as they adopted a phone-based life and many began to live in the whirlpool of social media, where no stability can be found, every measure of despair increased. From 2010 to 2019, the number who agreed that their lives felt “meaningless” increased by about 70 percent, to more than one in five.

6. Young People Don’t Like Their Phone-Based Lives

How can I be confident that the epidemic of adolescent mental illness was kicked off by the arrival of the phone-based childhood? Skeptics point to other events as possible culprits, including the 2008 global financial crisis, global warming, the 2012 Sandy Hook school shooting and the subsequent active-shooter drills, rising academic pressures, and the opioid epidemic. But while these events might have been contributing factors in some countries, none can explain both the timing and international scope of the disaster.

An additional source of evidence comes from Gen Z itself. With all the talk of regulating social media, raising age limits, and getting phones out of schools, you might expect to find many members of Gen Z writing and speaking out in opposition. I’ve looked for such arguments and found hardly any. In contrast, many young adults tell stories of devastation.

Freya India, a 24-year-old British essayist who writes about girls, explains how social-media sites carry girls off to unhealthy places: “It seems like your child is simply watching some makeup tutorials, following some mental health influencers, or experimenting with their identity. But let me tell you: they are on a conveyor belt to someplace bad. Whatever insecurity or vulnerability they are struggling with, they will be pushed further and further into it.” She continues:

Gen Z were the guinea pigs in this uncontrolled global social experiment. We were the first to have our vulnerabilities and insecurities fed into a machine that magnified and refracted them back at us, all the time, before we had any sense of who we were. We didn’t just grow up with algorithms. They raised us. They rearranged our faces. Shaped our identities. Convinced us we were sick.

Rikki Schlott, a 23-year-old American journalist and co-author of The Canceling of the American Mind, writes,

"The day-to-day life of a typical teen or tween today would be unrecognizable to someone who came of age before the smartphone arrived. Zoomers are spending an average of 9 hours daily in this screen-time doom loop—desperate to forget the gaping holes they’re bleeding out of, even if just for … 9 hours a day. Uncomfortable silence could be time to ponder why they’re so miserable in the first place. Drowning it out with algorithmic white noise is far easier."

A 27-year-old man who spent his adolescent years addicted (his word) to video games and pornography sent me this reflection on what that did to him:

I missed out on a lot of stuff in life—a lot of socialization. I feel the effects now: meeting new people, talking to people. I feel that my interactions are not as smooth and fluid as I want. My knowledge of the world (geography, politics, etc.) is lacking. I didn’t spend time having conversations or learning about sports. I often feel like a hollow operating system.

Or consider what Facebook found in a research project involving focus groups of young people, revealed in 2021 by the whistleblower Frances Haugen: “Teens blame Instagram for increases in the rates of anxiety and depression among teens,” an internal document said. “This reaction was unprompted and consistent across all groups.”

7. Collective-Action Problems

Social-media companies such as Meta, TikTok, and Snap are often compared to tobacco companies, but that’s not really fair to the tobacco industry. It’s true that companies in both industries marketed harmful products to children and tweaked their products for maximum customer retention (that is, addiction), but there’s a big difference: Teens could and did choose, in large numbers, not to smoke. Even at the peak of teen cigarette use, in 1997, nearly two-thirds of high-school students did not smoke.

Social media, in contrast, applies a lot more pressure on nonusers, at a much younger age and in a more insidious way. Once a few students in any middle school lie about their age and open accounts at age 11 or 12, they start posting photos and comments about themselves and other students. Drama ensues. The pressure on everyone else to join becomes intense. Even a girl who knows, consciously, that Instagram can foster beauty obsession, anxiety, and eating disorders might sooner take those risks than accept the seeming certainty of being out of the loop, clueless, and excluded. And indeed, if she resists while most of her classmates do not, she might, in fact, be marginalized, which puts her at risk for anxiety and depression, though via a different pathway than the one taken by those who use social media heavily. In this way, social media accomplishes a remarkable feat: It even harms adolescents who do not use it.

A recent study led by the University of Chicago economist Leonardo Bursztyn captured the dynamics of the social-media trap precisely. The researchers recruited more than 1,000 college students and asked them how much they’d need to be paid to deactivate their accounts on either Instagram or TikTok for four weeks. That’s a standard economist’s question to try to compute the net value of a product to society. On average, students said they’d need to be paid roughly $50 ($59 for TikTok, $47 for Instagram) to deactivate whichever platform they were asked about. Then the experimenters told the students that they were going to try to get most of the others in their school to deactivate that same platform, offering to pay them to do so as well, and asked, Now how much would you have to be paid to deactivate, if most others did so? The answer, on average, was less than zero. In each case, most students were willing to pay to have that happen.

Social media is all about network effects. Most students are only on it because everyone else is too. Most of them would prefer that nobody be on these platforms. Later in the study, students were asked directly, “Would you prefer to live in a world without Instagram [or TikTok]?” A majority of students said yes––58 percent for each app.

This is the textbook definition of what social scientists call a collective-action problem. It’s what happens when a group would be better off if everyone in the group took a particular action, but each actor is deterred from acting, because unless the others do the same, the personal cost outweighs the benefit. Fishermen considering limiting their catch to avoid wiping out the local fish population are caught in this same kind of trap. If no one else does it too, they just lose profit.

Cigarettes trapped individual smokers with a biological addiction. Social media has trapped an entire generation in a collective-action problem. Early app developers deliberately and knowingly exploited the psychological weaknesses and insecurities of young people to pressure them to consume a product that, upon reflection, many wish they could use less, or not at all.

8. Four Norms to Break Four Traps

Young people and their parents are stuck in at least four collective-action traps. Each is hard to escape for an individual family, but escape becomes much easier if families, schools, and communities coordinate and act together. Here are four norms that would roll back the phone-based childhood. I believe that any community that adopts all four will see substantial improvements in youth mental health within two years.

No smartphones before high school

The trap here is that each child thinks they need a smartphone because “everyone else” has one, and many parents give in because they don’t want their child to feel excluded. But if no one else had a smartphone—or even if, say, only half of the child’s sixth-grade class had one—parents would feel more comfortable providing a basic flip phone (or no phone at all). Delaying round-the-clock internet access until ninth grade (around age 14) as a national or community norm would help to protect adolescents during the very vulnerable first few years of puberty. According to a 2022 British study, these are the years when social-media use is most correlated with poor mental health. Family policies about tablets, laptops, and video-game consoles should be aligned with smartphone restrictions to prevent overuse of other screen activities.

No social media before 16

The trap here, as with smartphones, is that each adolescent feels a strong need to open accounts on TikTok, Instagram, Snapchat, and other platforms primarily because that’s where most of their peers are posting and gossiping. But if the majority of adolescents were not on these accounts until they were 16, families and adolescents could more easily resist the pressure to sign up. The delay would not mean that kids younger than 16 could never watch videos on TikTok or YouTube—only that they could not open accounts, give away their data, post their own content, and let algorithms get to know them and their preferences.

Phone‐free schools

Most schools claim that they ban phones, but this usually just means that students aren’t supposed to take their phone out of their pocket during class. Research shows that most students do use their phones during class time. They also use them during lunchtime, free periods, and breaks between classes––times when students could and should be interacting with their classmates face-to-face. The only way to get students’ minds off their phones during the school day is to require all students to put their phones (and other devices that can send or receive texts) into a phone locker or locked pouch at the start of the day. Schools that have gone phone-free always seem to report that it has improved the culture, making students more attentive in class and more interactive with one another. Published studies back them up.

More independence, free play, and responsibility in the real world

Many parents are afraid to give their children the level of independence and responsibility they themselves enjoyed when they were young, even though rates of homicide, drunk driving, and other physical threats to children are way down in recent decades. Part of the fear comes from the fact that parents look at each other to determine what is normal and therefore safe, and they see few examples of families acting as if a 9-year-old can be trusted to walk to a store without a chaperone. But if many parents started sending their children out to play or run errands, then the norms of what is safe and accepted would change quickly. So would ideas about what constitutes “good parenting.” And if more parents trusted their children with more responsibility––for example, by asking their kids to do more to help out, or to care for others––then the pervasive sense of uselessness now found in surveys of high-school students might begin to dissipate.

It would be a mistake to overlook this fourth norm. If parents don’t replace screen time with real-world experiences involving friends and independent activity, then banning devices will feel like deprivation, not the opening up of a world of opportunities.

The main reason why the phone-based childhood is so harmful is because it pushes aside everything else. Smartphones are experience blockers. Our ultimate goal should not be to remove screens entirely, nor should it be to return childhood to exactly the way it was in 1960. Rather, it should be to create a version of childhood and adolescence that keeps young people anchored in the real world while flourishing in the digital age.

9. What Are We Waiting For?

An essential function of government is to solve collective-action problems. Congress could solve or help solve the ones I’ve highlighted—for instance, by raising the age of “internet adulthood” to 16 and requiring tech companies to keep underage children off their sites.

In recent decades, however, Congress has not been good at addressing public concerns when the solutions would displease a powerful and deep-pocketed industry. Governors and state legislators have been much more effective, and their successes might let us evaluate how well various reforms work. But the bottom line is that to change norms, we’re going to need to do most of the work ourselves, in neighborhood groups, schools, and other communities.

There are now hundreds of organizations––most of them started by mothers who saw what smartphones had done to their children––that are working to roll back the phone-based childhood or promote a more independent, real-world childhood. (I have assembled a list of many of them.) One that I co-founded, at LetGrow.org, suggests a variety of simple programs for parents or schools, such as play club (schools keep the playground open at least one day a week before or after school, and kids sign up for phone-free, mixed-age, unstructured play as a regular weekly activity) and the Let Grow Experience (a series of homework assignments in which students––with their parents’ consent––choose something to do on their own that they’ve never done before, such as walk the dog, climb a tree, walk to a store, or cook dinner).

Parents are fed up with what childhood has become. Many are tired of having daily arguments about technologies that were designed to grab hold of their children’s attention and not let go. But the phone-based childhood is not inevitable.

The four norms I have proposed cost almost nothing to implement, they cause no clear harm to anyone, and while they could be supported by new legislation, they can be instilled even without it. We can begin implementing all of them right away, this year, especially in communities with good cooperation between schools and parents. A single memo from a principal asking parents to delay smartphones and social media, in support of the school’s effort to improve mental health by going phone free, would catalyze collective action and reset the community’s norms.

We didn’t know what we were doing in the early 2010s. Now we do. It’s time to end the phone-based childhood.

This article is adapted from Jonathan Haidt’s forthcoming book, The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness.

#phones are bad #childhood

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wangxianficrecs · 6 months

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After the Drought by Aki_no_hikari

After the Drought

by Aki_no_hikari (@akinohikari)

Gen, 4k, Wangxian

Summary: Point of divergence: chapter75, lwj stays to eat that night… and seeing that they need him, he stays the next day and the next... Driven by feelings and morals, Lan Wangji leaves the Cloud Recesses and his family behind. Fourteen years of hardship later, he comes back as a father and leader. Kay's comments: A sweet canon-divergence story, in which Lan Wangji stays in Yiling with Wei Wuxian and the Wens. A very soft story with a non-linear narrative focussing on what happened then and what is happening now, 14 years later, during Lan Wangji's first visit back to the Cloud Recesses. Excerpt: As soon as they step in, his uncle stands up and looks at him with a closed off expression. Lan Zhan clasps his hands and bows. “Good afternoon, uncle. I am glad to see you in good health.” “Straighten up.” His voice is rougher than he remembers and as he straightens once again he studies his uncle’s face. He still looks much the same, but there are subtle differences that mark the passage of time, small wrinkles around his eyes and a handful of white hairs upon his head and beard. His uncle is doing the same, staring at Lan Zhan’s face as if he were a particularly difficult question.

pov lan wangji, canon divergence, non-linear narrative, wei wuxian creates a sect, yiling wei sect, wei yuan, family feels, happy ending, married lan wangji/wei wuxian, everybody lives, fix-it

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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Can Anybody See Me? Part 19

Hello, hello. While this is technically Steve’s first performance, you won’t actually get to see him act until later. There are plot reasons why. Like ‘planned from the very beginning, the whole reason for this story in the first place’ reasons why. ;) But Steve gets some good news.

And for those of you who missed the poll and it’s results, this story is going to be running until the end of season 4 (or potentially season 5 depending how long this takes). I will be prioritizing the shorter fics for posting because they will get done long before this one will, but I will still keep updating it.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

Steve woke up the following morning feeling relaxed and more than a little pleased with himself. His body was humming with a nervous energy and he was giddy with it. He double checked his backpack to make sure he had everything he needed for today and then dashed out the door.

Today was his first performance and he couldn’t wait. He pulled into the parking lot of the school and hopped out. The only downside to this whole performance thing that he could see was that he was missing out on swimming class all week. Coach Hall was fine with it especially since Steve wasn’t the only one on the team that was in the play, just the team’s most prominent member. Plus they still had the after school practices.

He pulled up to the school parking lot to see that Eddie was waiting for him. Janice and Marty, too. Once they got to the auditorium, Marty and Eddie went one way and Janice and Steve the other. Steve could feel the hum of excitement vibrating off of everyone in the cast. This is was it, their dress rehearsal.

Thankfully no one threw up, but the kid playing Robert Lee looked a little green. Steve saw the kid playing McNair rubbing his back as he tucked his head between his knees.

The lights dimmed and the bell began to toll. This was it.

Steve had stumbled a couple of times, but so had a couple of the others. First time jitters, but Steve was practically jumping up and down afterwards. He and Janice hugged.

“Oh my god,” Steve said. “You were amazing!”

Janice blushed. “Me? Dude, you added a little bit of sass to the part that just...rocked.”

Steve blushed. “I only hope that Miss Lucy feels the same.”

Janice nodded.

They all piled into the choir room and sat nervously waiting for her to come in. Miss Lucy always talked to stage crew first because the notes were shorter and more to the point. “Hey, this light didn’t go off at the right time,” or “hey, you need to hold the light on Hancock a little longer.”

Notes for the actors tended to be a bit more messy. They all tensed up when she walked in, sitting up straighter in their seats.

“Not bad, everyone,” Miss Lucy began. “I saw a lot of little jitters, but that’s normal. Especially since we had a few newcomers this year. But I do have some notes.”

She broke down all her notes and finally came to Steve. Janice held his hand.

“You’re still lacking the strength of emotion needed for the Gen. Washington line,” she said. “You have to really sell it. ‘Lately I’ve had the oddest feeling that he’s been―writing to me.’ Really sell that feeling of intimacy between you and the general.”

A bunch of the kids snickered and Steve blushed.

“What are you, children?” Miss Lucy barked out. “Intimacy isn’t just sex for crying out loud. It’s about knowing someone so closely, so well that you just feel like you’re safe. Like you understand them and they understand you in ways others would struggle with.”

Steve nodded.

“But I loved how cheeky you made Thomson,” she finished. “I would have liked to have to seen that during rehearsals, but I like it. Definitely keep that up.”

“I got in front of the kids and I goofed it up a bit,” Steve explained, blushing.

Miss Lucy laughed. “I can see that. Very nice.”

Steve ducked his head as Janice rubbed back in encouragingly.

Miss Lucy went on with the rest of her notes and then they broke up.

They still had to go to their last class of the day. Which Steve had been grateful. The pottery teacher already hated him, and the last thing he wanted was to have to been late or gone because he was pretty damn sure that Mr Lovett would have docked him points on his attendance even though he was supposed to have been excused.

He walked into the class and sat in the back with his head down as usual. One of the girls in the class, Mr Lovett’s pet, Mindy Jones turned around at him sneered.

“Well if it isn’t the fairy,” she drawled. “You take it up the ass now, too?”

Steve’s head rocked back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Everyone knows drama is for fags and freaks,” Mindy snarled. “And hanging out with Munson...it’s pretty safe to assume you’re both.”

Steve laughed. “You do realize that your favorite actors were in drama school, right? You really think that Tom Cruise, Harrison Ford, or Rob Lowe are gay? That makes no sense.”

She rolled her eyes. “They don’t cake on makeup the way you theater freaks do. Don’t even try and compare the two.”

Steve licked his upper lip and smirked. Thankfully he was saved from answering by the literal bell calling the class to session.

He was doing better in the class, having learned from watching the other students around him. Which made Mr Lovett angrier because he couldn’t dock him in good faith. And Steve knew he didn’t want to test it far enough for his parents to show up at the principal’s office. So the teacher made his life miserable in other ways.

Sneering at his color choices. Scoffing at his rudimentary skills, even though this was a beginner’s class. They all had rudimentary skills, for fuck’s sake. But it never seemed to be good enough for him and he would make sure to praise Mindy in the same breath he degraded Steve.

He didn’t even know why it wasn’t a half year like it was at the middle school. Which chucklefuck decided that yes what this school needed was a year long beginning pottery class? It was horrible.

He suffered through the class and shuffled out, his head throbbing. He slammed into the lockers when Mindy deliberately hip checked him on her way out.

Just then another counselor just happened to be passing by.

“Mr Harrington?” Mr Cole asked, rushing over to help him stand. “Are you all right?”

Steve nodded. “The smell of clay makes my head ache sometimes.”

“Then why are you in the class?” he asked.

Steve frowned and then winced. “Mrs Hall told me I couldn’t change the class.”

Mr Cole blinked. “Last semester. But it’s new semester, Mr Harrington, you should be in a different elective now.”

“It’s not year long like drama or choir?” he asked, confused.

“No, who told it was?”

“Mrs Hall?” Steve said, but it was more like a question. He didn’t understand what was happening.

Mr Cole’s spine straightened and his tongue dragged along his top lip. Steve could feel the anger radiate off the counselor and he gulped.

“Follow me, Mr Harrington,” he said coldly. “I’ll get you sorted out.”

Steve dutifully followed him to his office and sat down. Mr Cole vanished down the hall and a moment or two later he could hear raised voices. Then a third was added.

Two minutes later Principal Higgins and Mr Cole were walking through the door.

“It appears there has been a mix up involving your schedule,” Principal Higgins muttered, looking sidelong at Mr Cole. “Mr Cole will be handling your school file from now on. Have a nice day.”

Principal Higgins left, leaving behind a smug Mr Cole and a baffled Steve.

Mr Cole smiled at Steve. “Just let me pull up the available courses for you and we’ll get you taken care of.”

They went over all the options and decided that since Steve already had all the credits he needed to graduate that he could have a free period instead. And yes that meant if he wanted to, he could go home after lunch on odd days. Or even after his English class if Steve wanted. Mr Cole printed him out a note that he could hand to teachers if they thought he was playing hooky and let Steve go.

“Thanks for this,” Steve said, on his way out.

“You’re welcome,” Mr Cole said with a smile. “It’s our job to make sure kids receive an education, not enact petty vendettas against students.”

Steve nodded and slipped back out into the hall. He made sure he was far enough away before he leapt into the air, whooping and yelling for joy.

Steve ran out to the parking lot, hoping Eddie was waiting for him. He nearly slumped over in relief when he saw that he was. He looked around him briefly before launching himself at his boyfriend.

Eddie had to take a step back to catch him so that they wouldn’t fall over.

“Whoa, there, big boy!” he said with a chuckle. “Someone is unusually happy coming from Mr Lovett’s class.”

Steve kissed him soundly. “That’s because I never have to return to that horrible man’s class ever again.”

“And how did you manage that one, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, holding on to the back of Steve’s head as they swayed back and forth.

So Steve explained. “I still don’t know how Coach Hall and Mrs Hall are married. Like you couldn’t find two more diametrically opposing people on the planet.”

Eddie laughed. “One of life’s greatest mysteries. But I’m happy for you, babe. Insanely jealous, too. But mostly happy.”

Steve’s laugh joined his. “Don’t worry though, I won’t cut out on you. I’ll just do my homework during that time so I can spend even more time with my hot boyfriend.”

Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully. “I approve.”

Steve playfully shoved him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yup,” Eddie agreed. “I was just waiting for you in case you needed to bitch about Mr Lovett.”

Steve gave him a quick peck. “And that’s one of the many billion reasons, I adore you.”

Eddie blushed. “Go on, pretty boy. I’ve got homework and you’ve got fit into that tiny Speedo.”

Steve laughed again. He put his bag in the trunk of his car and swapped it for his swim stuff.

He waved at Eddie as drove by. Today was a good day.

***

Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @garden-of-gay @anaibis @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @lovelyscot @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @jinxjinn @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @estrellami-1 @dangdirtydemons @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

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sergeantsporks · 1 month

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Gilded Family

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Ch 39/39: Closure

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6 , Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28, Ch 29, Ch 30, Ch 31, Ch 32, Ch 33, Ch 34, Ch 35, Ch 36, Ch 37, Ch 38, Ch 38.5

An alternate universe in which Evelyn managed to save Caleb after his confrontation with Phillip. The two of them escaped to present day through time pools, and have been using time pools to secretly rescue grimwalkers just after Belos attempts to kill them. The story follows Darius' mentor as he adjusts to his new life, as well as changes to the course of canon.

Ao3

Xxx

“I don’t know about this.”

Cyrus tried to turn around, but A.T. caught his shoulders, turning him around, and Phoenix gave him a push towards the townspeople cleaning up wreckage and graffiti. Most importantly, towards the blue demon boy stabilizing a broken wall.

“Do you like him, or no?”

“I mean, yes,” Cyrus replied, “But we went on one sort-of date ages ago, before everything went screwy! What if he doesn’t like me anymore? What if he doesn’t even remember it?”

“You were halfway through a date before you were suddenly interrupted and dragged off by your family, and then a wild witch showed up and was chased through the streets,” A.T. reminded him, “How could he forget that date?”

“Yes, but what if the whole concealment stone thing drives him away? What if—if—”

“What if he’s got terrible amnesia?” A.T. suggested, “What if he’s got a new boyfriend? What if I unhinge my jaw and swallow him whole before you have the chance to speak to him?”

“What?” Phoenix and Cyrus asked in unison.

“Exactly, it’s all impossible. Go talk to him.”

Cyrus didn’t look too convinced, but he also seemed too startled by A.T.’s statement to protest, and made his way towards his one-time date. He waved awkwardly, saying something Phoenix couldn’t hear. The demon left his work, dusting his hands off, and tilting his head in a question. Cyrus pulled out his concealment stone, put it on, transformed, then took it off when his partner’s eyes lit up with recognition. He put the stone back in his pocket, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I’m actually super terrible for lying and you should never even look at me again,” A.T. mimed in a terrible imitation of Cyrus—a truly impressive feat, given how much his natural voice already sounded like their sibling. “I don’t think I’m worth it, even though I totally deserve a spectacular boyfriend!” He switched his voice to a lower pitch when the demon spoke up. A.T. even imitated his tentative hand one Cyrus’ arm.

“Wow, you look so much better without the concealment stone! Let’s get married forever!”

“I don’t think that’s what he’s saying.”

“Could be. You don’t know.”

Cyrus said something else, glancing back at A.T. and Phoenix. A.T. waved when the demon looked over, but the demon barely seemed to see him, his eyes latching onto Phoenix and sparking with something that was almost recognition, but fogged over by confusion.

Right. I ran into him when he was a puppet.

Phoenix wondered how many other former puppets would look at him with that unease, that sense of not quite remembering why he made them uncomfortable, but knowing somewhere in their unconscious mind that he’d played with the Collector, stood by while they were paraded around helplessly.

But Cyrus’ date shook himself, waved back at A.T., and turned back to Cyrus, enthusiastically explaining the work he was doing with a lot of arm waving. Cyrus went along with him, a small, happy smile blooming on his face.

“Aw, well, that’s sweet.” A.T. tugged his hair. “Boy, this place looks different. I hope they don’t rebuild it the exact same. I’d like to see something new.”

“Well, for one thing, there won’t be specialized cells for wild witches,” someone said behind them, “Thank the titan for that.”

A short witch grinned at them. She looked familiar, but Phoenix couldn’t quite place why until she nodded at an alleyway. “Seems like just yesterday you lot helped me out of here, and now, well, I’m back! This time without the chasing, hopefully. Where’s your little friend, the one with the jokes? And the older one?”

“Oh!” Phoenix blurted out. “The witch at the coven day—hey! You made it past the day of unity?”

“Mhm. One of the Collector’s little spies picked me up later, but I’m back now. You would not believe all the apologies I’ve been getting. It’s going to go to my head if I’m not careful. Maybe I should set some scaffolding on fire and give them a new reason to chase me out of town, for old times’ sake. Or at the least to test how far their ‘we’re so sorry, wild witches were right’ sentiments go.”

A.T. reached into his pocket and wordlessly held out a box of matches.

“Did you just have those on you?” Phoenix asked.

“You never know when you’ll have to light a fire,” A.T. remarked serenely, “Just ask Frank.”

The wild witch barked a laugh. “I like you. I’m Annette Thompson; what do they put on your wanted posters?”

A.T.’s face burst into a wide grin. “Matching initials!”

“What’s yours stand for, then?”

“I’ve been told not to ask,” Phoenix told her.

“Oh, a mystery?”

A.T. wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “One that is unlocked after we light enough fires together.”

Annette laughed again. “I suppose we better start, then.”

“Please don’t light anything too important on fire,” Phoenix called desperately after them, “Or better yet—no fires!”

Cyrus jogged over just as A.T. and Annette disappeared into the construction. “I think I need to quit distracting Raphael right now, but he told me when he gets off of construction work, and… where’s A.T. gone off to?”

“To light a fire? I think? He’s made a friend. Or… partner in crime? Possibly both.”

Alarm flashed across Cyrus’ face. “We should be worried, right? We should stop them? They’re just rebuilding.”

Phoenix waved a hand. “I’m sure it’s… fine. Ish.”

“Mm.” Cyrus squinted at the bustling streets. “I guess as long as he doesn’t light anything huge on fire in the middle of my second date.”

“On second thought, I think I’ll go find them.”

Xxx

“I’m leaving.”

Caleb glanced up at Joseph’s declaration, still mostly-engrossed in kneading bread dough for dinner. “Thanks for letting me know. What time do you think you’ll be back?”

“No, I mean, I’m leaving. To go do something else. I won’t be around for… I don’t know how long.”

Phoenix and Frank glanced at each other, but quietly kept chopping up vegetables, pretending they weren’t listening to every word.

“Oh.” Caleb struggled for words, finally managing a simple “I see.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong!” Joseph said quickly. Despite the confidence he’d originally announced himself with, he brimmed with nervous energy, turning a loose griffin feather over and over in his hands, “I love you, and I love the family, and I’ll definitely come back to visit, I just think…” He took a deep breath. “I want to go somewhere else. I’ve been in the same place for so long—and before that, I was with Belos. Now that our home is gone, and we’re rebuilding, and everything is changing anyway… I want to go up to the hand.”

He waved his hands, his nervous energy transforming into excitement. “I mean—the arm is sticking straight up! It’s taller than the Knee now—there’s no telling how the ecosystem up there is going to shift. Plants are going to change to fit the new shape, and the animals are going to have to adapt—and I want to see it. I want to see all the new creatures this brings, I want to see how the old creatures adapt or move somewhere new, or just fail… and I just want to get out and see everything the Isles has. I want to study beasts where they are, out in their natural environments, and I can’t do that if I stay here. I need to go. Please.”

“Okay,” Caleb said slowly. He wiped flour off his hands. “You don’t need my permission, you know that, right?” A wobbly smile appeared on his face. “I gave all of you the choice to leave or stay, remember? I never said that choice had to be permanent.”

Joseph’s shoulders visibly sank in relief. “Thank you.”

“What about the griffins?” Frank asked, finally breaking the unspoken treaty of silence between he and Phoenix.

“I thought—” Joseph rubbed the back of his neck. “—that is—if it’s alright—I thought I’d take Lucy. That’ll make the space restraints with moving closer to town less of an issue. The other griffins I think will be alright as long as they’re fed and exercised, but Lucy… anyway, this—it means the world to me.”

Caleb gave him a small, sad smile. “Permission to…?”

Joseph grabbed Caleb in a bear hug, squeezing so tightly that Phoenix thought he heard Caleb’s back pop. “Thank you, Dad,” he mumbled, his voice thick, “Thank you for everything.”

Caleb hugged back just as tightly. “I’m going to miss you. But I hope wherever you go—I hope you’re happy. I hope you find what you’re looking for. I hope… I hope…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead giving Joseph one last squeeze and letting go.

“Say goodbye to your mom, too, okay?”

“Of course. And everyone—I wouldn’t just disappear. Of course not.”

Joseph wandered out of the kitchen, searching for Evelyn, and Caleb sat down with a whump.

“Are you okay?” Phoenix asked quietly.

He managed a tired smile. “Of course, of course. I always knew that someday… I mean, I hoped that one day the world would be safe enough for you. I think I always sort of knew that the house was too small, and that one day some of you might want to leave.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But I don’t believe any amount of time would have actually prepared me for it.”

Phoenix thought of the first time he’d seen Darius after Belos’ attack—how he’d suddenly looked so grown up, how the realization that he didn’t need a mentor anymore had punched him in the gut. “No,” he agreed, “I don’t think it would.”

Caleb took a deep breath. “Things are changing right now,” he admitted, “We’ve been… living in a bubble. The only surprises were when one of you would join the house. But now… now the world’s opened up to us, and nothing will be the same.” He gave Phoenix and Frank a tired smile. “At risk of sounding like my brother, I’m not quite sure I’m ready for the change.”

Frank chuckled. “Now you know how we felt when we woke up in a different century.” He shrugged and chopped furiously at the vegetables on the board. “Things are going to be different. But some things are going to be the same, like—” he yanked back from the cutting board with a short scream.

Phoenix dropped his knife, and Caleb jumped up immediately. “Are you okay?! Did you cut yourself?!”

“My arm!” Frank yelped, “I’ve chopped it in with the vegetables! I didn’t even notice! The whole thing’s gone!”

“Terrible,” Phoenix told him, picking his knife back up, “You are just awful.”

Frank grinned, cheerfully resuming his chopping. “And that is something you can count on never changing.

Xxx

The front of Darius’ house buzzed with activity. Lake and Locke even managed to drag Sam out, although he still fidgeted with that strange box Ghost had found. Joseph paced nervously back and forth, and Lucy eyed him like she might be on the verge of sitting on him. But despite the nervousness, the saddlebags on Lucy and the backpack on Joseph looked natural. Right, even. Even his clothes—he’d bundled up for the likely lower temperatures—seemed to fit him better. His eyes shone with a healthy, excited glow.

“I’ll miss you.”

Joseph tousled Jason’s hair, grinning when Jason pushed his hand away. “Don’t get too mopey over me, or Lucy might turn around midair just to squash you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come back soon, okay? I want to read about all the new things you find up there.”

“You’ll be the first to see the notes,” Joseph promised. He glanced over Jason’s head at Cherry. “Take care of them, yeah? Especially keep your eye on this one. He’s trouble. He’ll get another concussion if he can manage it.”

Jason stuck his tongue out.

“Always.” Cherry’s one eye flicked back and forth nervously, glancing up at the sky like he was hoping for some sudden terrible weather to appear and delay Joseph just a little longer. “Stay safe.

“Always,” Joseph echoed, “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.” He turned to Evelyn and Caleb. “Thank you.”

“You’ll always have a room with us,” Caleb told him, “You know that?”

“I know.”

Evelyn straightened his scarf. “Go find some new wild things. I just know you’ll figure out some way to befriend them.”

“Will do, ma’am.”

Joseph hugged Evelyn and Caleb, climbed on Lucy’s back, and clicked his tongue. The griffin sprang up into the air, her huge wings beating massive gusts of wind onto their heads. Soon, the two of them were just a speck in the sky, sailing towards the raised arm of the titan.

Xxx

“I can’t do it.”

Evelyn gave Auric a gentle shove towards Hexside’s doors. “Yes, you can.”

Auric scratched at the scars on his neck, balking. “I’m too old. Hexside stops at eighteen, and I’m twenty. They won’t let me.”

“I talked to Bump,” Phoenix reassured him, “He and I go back—and Darius talked to him about it, too. You’re not going to be a regular student, no, but the healing teacher agreed to take you on after school, and help you transition into healing-specific schools for graduates. Like an apprenticeship.”

“I don’t have magic,” Auric replied, changing tack, “I can’t do the kinds of… I can’t do it. I’m never going to be as good as them, so—”

“Hey,” Evelyn said sharply, “Who kept Caleb and I from bleeding out?”

“You would have died without the pain sharing spell, I—”

“Who patched up all the refugees when I couldn’t heal anyone?” Evelyn demanded.

“Those weren’t life-threatening injuries, it wasn’t even—”

“You splinted and casted Clara’s broken bone and kept her cheerful,” Phoenix offered, “You were the first one to realize something was wrong with my arms.”

“You stitched Matt up when he came home injured,” Evelyn added, “Face it, Auric—you’re as good a healer as anyone. Magic or no. Magic healers have it easy—we draw a circle, and the wound disappears. But you? You have to put so much thought into what you’re doing, and you have to do it quick. You are incredible, Auric.”

Auric scratched at his neck again. “I’m just not sure.”

“If you really don’t want to do this, then we can go back home,” Evelyn said softly, “But I want you to look me in the eye and tell me with absolute certainty, that going to healing school is something you don’t want.”

Auric took a step back, then a step forward, hovering between Evelyn and the door. “You think I’ll really be able to do it?”

“Would I have put my life in your hands if I wasn’t absolutely certain?”

Auric took a deep breath, taking a decisive step towards Hexside’s doors. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Xxx

“Hey! Over here!”

A hand closed around Phoenix’s arm, pulling him into the empty kitchen. “Phoenix.” Matt laced his fingers together. “You were part of the emperor’s coven when it was actually, you know, a coven.”

Phoenix winced at the reminder. What was this about? “Yes?”

“So you were around a lot of people.”

Where was he going with this? “Yeeessss?”

“Do you know how to plan a party.”

Phoenix stared at him. “What.”

“A party. Do you know how to plan one? Cyrus and I were in town, and his boyfriend invited him to a housewarming party for one of the newly rebuilt houses—well, he invited me, too, but that was just to be polite, I’m not going. Anyway, the point is, I think a housewarming party sounds nice. We could have one for our house, once we’ve actually built it. It would be…” Matt waved a hand. “You know. A normal thing.”

“A normal thing,” Phoenix echoed.

“Something other people do. I think it might help us settle into the town better, you know? Break some of the tension.”

“Have you run this by Caleb and Evelyn yet?”

“I sort of wanted to surprise them. I’ll warn everyone else, of course, but if we’re going to get anywhere with this, first I need someone who can actually plan a party.”

“A party?” Like the word had summoned him, Darius seemed to materialize behind Phoenix. He arched one eyebrow at Matt. “And you asked Phoenix to help plan it?”

“Hey, I planned social functions.”

“The very fact that you just called a party a social function is proof that you aren’t up to the task. What party?”

Matt explained his plan, and Darius nodded slowly. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Who would you invite?”

“You, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“Um… Cyrus’ boyfriend Raphael? Maybe that woman A.T. started hanging out with… I bet Jason will want to invite the kids. I guess we could invite the refugees who stayed with us, if anyone knows where they went.” Matt scratched the back of his head. “Do we know anyone else??

“Oh, titan,” Darius murmured under his breath.

“Eda and Lilith,” Phoenix volunteered, “Eber. I think that’s everyone.”

“Small party,” Darius commented.

“There’s over twenty of us, any party we host is already huge.”

“Fair enough.” Darius twirled a finger in the air. “If you’re after goodwill from the townsfolk, shouldn’t you invite some of them? Other than Cyrus’ boyfriend, that is.”

Matt winced. “Inviting strangers isn’t the best plan. I don’t know if you’ve realized this, but most of us aren’t exactly the trusting, openly friendly type.”

“I had noticed something of the sort, believe it or not,” Darius said dryly, “Why don’t you go people watch? Pick guests you don’t find threatening. People who aren’t likely to cause friction, accidentally or on purpose.”

“Reconnaissance. We can do that.”

Darius squeezed his eyes shut. “Reconnaissance. Oh, heavens. Please take Jason with you.”

Xxx

“Not that one. Not that one. Ooo, that one gave me an apology basket, let’s invite him.”

Phoenix glanced over at Annette. “You don’t have to help us.”

“Hey, if they’re not friendly towards a wild witch, they won’t be friendly towards your lively bunch either. My insight is incredibly valuable.”

“Hm.”

“Now might be a good time to test that elixir,” Jason commented mildly.

Phoenix glanced down at his arms. Matt had chosen the top a construction crane, of all places, to people-watch from. It had been a miracle—and Annette’s magic—that he’d gotten up here in the first place. And being out in the town without a concealment stone… it made his skin itch. The curse shifted uneasily, reacting to the stress. It was so ridiculous it almost made him laugh; he’d gotten through the Collector’s “games, the apocalypse, and attempted possession, but being up a little too high and getting a little stressed was making the curse react?

“Here goes nothing.” Phoenix tilted the golden bottle back. Eda had warned him not to let it sit in his mouth, but she hadn’t prepared him for the explosion of terrible flavors that washed over his tongue. He swallowed with a gag. “Tastes like burned animal hair,” he said with a grimace.

“But look.” Jason pointed at his arms. The curse settled back into his normal flesh. He could still feel it curled up inside of him, throbbing in time with his heartbeat, but it seemed… passive. Dormant. Almost like it was taking a nap. Some of the bone-weary exhaustion that seemed to stay no matter how long he slept faded into a background numbness.

“Huh. I guess… I’ll be asking Lilith for her recipe.”

“You think it’ll help long-term?”

Phoenix shrugged. “I know the curse has been useful sometimes, but… it’s a little hard on my arms.” He flexed his fingers, wondering at the difference that slight lift from exhaustion had made. “And I’m starting to think it might have been taking up a little more of my energy than I realized.”

Jason nudged his shoulder. “Sam could have told you that.”

“Yeah, yeah. He’d probably love to run a thousand tests on my day-to-day fatigue levels with and without elixirs.”

“Nah, he’s too busy with that box. Potion-brewing lessons for Phoenix, then. Mom will be ecstatic.” Jason kicked his legs aimlessly, watching the people down below. “You guys ever think about what you want to do now that we’re not on the run?”

“Mix as many kinds of magic together as I can,” Annette answered immediately, “Let’s test the ‘wild magic is dangerous’ theory. I bet some of it could be.”

“Oh, wow, you and A.T. really are perfect for each other. Matt?”

“Something normal.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I don’t know. I just want to live a normal life. Make some friends. Get a job. Maybe fall in love, start a family. Do something stupid and young.” Matt shrugged. “I lost my childhood and my teen years to Belos. Everything was one nonstop, horrifying adventure. Everything was some grand purpose. I kind of want to just have a boring life now.”

He heaved a sigh. “I had a choice, you know? Belos just sort of ditched me in the middle of the boiling sea, so when Caleb found me, I was dehydrated and exhausted, but not… dying. I chose to go with Caleb forward in time. I thought if Belos was already destined to be alive for centuries, there wouldn’t be any escaping him in my time. Now that we’ve actually finally gotten away from him… I just want to leave all that behind.”

Matt gave them all a quick smile. “Not that I’d leave the family behind, of course! I still want to be with you guys, I just…” He fell into a pensive silence, staring out at the people below. “I don’t know. I guess Joseph wasn’t the only one with an itch to get out there. This party, getting our foot in the door and helping Mom and Dad get back in the social life of the Isles… it just feels like the right thing to do before going. Not that I’d leave right after. I still don’t have any solid plans. But someday.”

Phoenix didn’t respond. He didn’t know how. It had been enough of a shock when Joseph had left. He’d known, of course, that things would change. Phoenix himself wouldn’t even be at the house on weekends anymore. But between Joseph leaving, Matt’s plan, Auric’s apprenticeship, and the appearance of new people in Cyrus and A.T.’s lives… everything was moving so fast. Maybe they’d stopped running for their lives, but their lives still kept running. He’d barely had the time to get used to the quiet life in the woods before it was completely overturned.

“Wow,” Jason said finally, “Have you told Mom or Dad yet? What about Ash?”

“I don’t want to spring this on them right now. I mean, with the house building, and everyone still healing, and Joseph just leaving… it’s not right. I don’t have a solid plan, and even if I left right after the party, that’s still months of house-building away.” Matt brushed his hair out of his face. “So… don’t tell anyone just yet, yeah?

“My lips are sealed,” Jason promised. He pointed down at the street. “That one, Annette, they stopped to feed a stray, put them on the list.” He sighed. “Wish I had a plan.”

Phoenix ruffled his hair. “You’re eighteen. Give yourself a minute.”

Jason pushed at his hand. “Hunter has it all figured out, and he’s only sixteen! He already knows he’s going to be a palisman carver!”

“You’re not Hunter. Most of us don’t know what we’re going to do. I don’t. Eda offered the idea of mentoring, but I don’t know if I’ll take it.”

Jason looked up at him with big, sparkling eyes. “Awwwwwwwww, but you’d be so good at it!”

“We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you. Nice try.”

“Hey, I meant it. I wasn’t just trying to distract you.”

“Sure. Anyway, take it slow. Joseph knew what he wanted. Matt kind of knows what he wants. But you don’t have to have your whole life figured out just yet. I mean, everyone on the Isles is a bit displaced right now. There are tons of scouts who have no idea what they’re going to do with their lives now. Everyone’s shaken by what happened and wondering what we’ll do without the covens. So just… take it easy. Forget your entire future, let’s plan small. What do you want to do in the next few weeks?”

“Hm. I sort of want to go back to the human realm. Visit Camila. Maybe go back to the library there. Oh—and I want to take Novus. Phoenix, they have so much mechanical stuff there. I think he’ll explode. And I want to help look for where we’ll build the new house. Of course I’m going to help Matt with his guest list and party planning. And… why are you grinning like that?”

“No reason,” Phoenix said lightly, “It just sounds to me like you’ve got plenty of plans for the future.”

Jason wrinkled his nose at Phoenix. “Alright, point taken. But hey, there goes my point. You’re a great mentor.”

“Thanks.” Phoenix tousled Jason’s hair again. This time, he let him.

Xxx

Caleb eyed Phoenix critically. “You’re supposed to be resting your leg.”

He was, in fact, supposed to be sitting back at Darius’ house doing nothing, but Darius had left to deal with some Terra sighting, and almost everyone else was out close to their old home scouting for a new place to build. The whole place had been quiet, except for occasional mutterings from Sam while he fruitlessly searched for a way to open that stone box.

Phoenix sighed. “If I’m stuck sitting around resting my leg for five more minutes, the curse is going to take over from boredom and I’m going to run back into the woods.”

Caleb blinked twice. “Could that actually happen? Your curse activating from boredom, I mean?”

“I doubt it. Besides, I took an elixir today, it should be fine. I won’t move too much, I promise. I’ll find a spot to sit around out here. I just needed to get out.”

“Did you tell Sam you were leaving?”

“He’s not going to look up from that box for at least another twelve hours. He won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“He should just pour some explosive potion on that box and be done with it,” Novus suggested as he walked by, arms full of levels and angle-measurers, “Or cut into it. That’s the pragmatic thing to do.”

Caleb laughed. “It’s not about getting what’s inside for him, it’s about solving the puzzle. If he gives up, then I’ll let you at it with your tools.”

“That’s all I ask.”

“Anyway—you’re probably right, Phoenix, but still.”

“If Sam figures out I’m gone, he’ll probably just shrug and go back to the box. I don’t think he’s desperate to always have someone around. Unless he solves the box, in which case, he’ll tear over here immediately and demand to know why I wasn’t there to witness his moment of triumph.” Phoenix sat down on a log with a sigh. “I messaged Darius to tell him where I was going. Hopefully that’s enough.”

“Hopefully.”

Caleb wandered off, apparently satisfied that Phoenix wouldn’t rebreak his ankle. Phoenix sat on the stump watching his family. Novus kept laying out string where the house would be, testing different spots with his tools, while Lake casually picked the rope up and moved it just a couple inches to the left whenever he wasn’t looking. Matt wrote furiously in a small notebook—party plans, if Phoenix had to guess. Evelyn drew small circles, testing out her construction magic. Everywhere bustled with movement. If someone wasn’t actively making house plans, they were transporting construction materials, or overseeing everyone else.

“They don’t know how to sit still, do they?” Alex plopped down next to Phoenix. “Neither do you.” They shrugged. “I guess it’s good when we’re trying to build a house. What do you think they’ll find to do afterwards?”

“What do you mean?”

Alex gestured at the busy family. “When the house is finished, what do you think they’ll do? What will you do? None of us are good at stopping and staying still for a moment. We just keep going and going and going. So what are we supposed to do once we finish building the new house?”

“We just… live in it, I guess,” Phoenix answered slowly.

“Hm.”

“Do you know what you’re going to do?”

Alex shrugged. “Keep my feet on the ground, that’s the only thing I know for sure. Stay away from heights.”

“Seconded. How are the falling dreams? Have they gotten any better?”

“Careful, you sound like Dad.”

“Sorry, I just… you know, I don’t think I ever thanked you.”

“For what?”

“When you told me where you died—that’s how we found Ghost. So… thank you.”

“Oh. You’re welcome.” Alex went very still, staring pointedly at anything but Phoenix. “Hey, can I ask you something? And… do you promise not to tell anyone what I said?”

“Sure. But, uh… why me?” Surely there were other grimwalkers Alex was closer to. Phoenix had only ever spoken to them the once.

Alex eyed him critically. “Because you’re the only one who backed off, no questions asked, when I told you I just wanted space to process. I don’t know, I feel like I can trust you to understand. Um. Do you think it would be weird if I moved out of the house really soon?”

The question shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise. Joseph had already left, and Matt was planning on it—the moving fever was contagious. But still, Phoenix flinched at the idea of one more grimwalker leaving. “Well,” he said carefully, “I don’t think it would be… I mean, Joseph already broke the ice on that one.”

“I know.” Alex combed their fingers through their hair. “But Joseph was… Joseph. He was big. He was determined. He was capable of wrestling beasts and winning. He… well, he didn’t have a panic attack every time he tripped. What if Mom and Dad don’t think I’m ready?”

“They’ll let you anyway.”

“Right. But would it be weird? I mean, we’re building this house together, and then I… I wouldn’t be in it. They’d build a room for me, for what? For me to leave right after? I don’t want them to think I’ve wanted to leave this whole time and was just waiting for the all-clear.”

“Well, why do you want to leave?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why do you want to leave? Because you want space?”

“Oh. Yes. Something like that.” Alex twisted their hair and let it go. “Time. And space. And I love Mom and Dad and everyone, don’t get me wrong, they’re just… sometimes a little much. So. Um.” Alex gestured towards the town. “You know. Maybe I’ll leave. But I don’t want it to be…”

“Awkward?”

“Yes.”

“You should talk to them about it. I know that’s not your strong suit, but… give it a shot?”

“They’re busy right now.”

Phoenix watched as Novus gestured to Evelyn. She drew one glowing finger in a wide circle, and huge stone walls rose out of the ground where he’d laid out string, her eyes on his blueprints. Her free hand directed another circle, and abominations sludged their way towards the neat piles of tiles, shingles, glass panes, scooping them up and using the stone walls as a base to build windows and roofs.

“Not for long.”

Xxx

“Wow.” Phoenix’s voice echoed in the empty space. He hadn’t realized how everything in the old house had muffled sound until he stood in the empty rooms Evelyn had built. “This took two days?”

“And Evelyn will be passed out for about five,” Caleb said disapprovingly, “I wish she’d taken it slower.”

Lake bounced down a set of stairs, each footstep echoing off the walls and turning into a marching army. “Is Sam getting two rooms again? Because he’s already claimed one of the empty ones up there for his lab.”

“Oh, no,” Novus said casually, “I gave the house a couple of extra rooms for Ghost and Hunter, but I’m taking over the lab space for my work. Machinery will be far more useful than the glyphs now.” He laughed at Caleb’s stricken face. “I’m joking. There’s enough rooms for both. He can have a lab.”

Lake tilted their head. “Seems kinda… bare.”

“We’ll paint the walls,” Caleb promised. He moved through the space with a twinkle in his eye. “The kitchen will be here. Dining room right next to it, of course. What do you guys think of getting a family picture? I’ve always wanted one.”

“What about Achsah’s room?”

Caleb froze.

Lake scratched the back of their neck. “I mean… we saved some of her stuff. Some of the photographs were okay. We could try to set it all up again. But it won’t really be her room anymore. We’ll just be recreating it. Is that something you and Mom want?”

It was like in the absence of Locke, or Sam to bother, Lake had lost their usual goofy demeanor. Phoenix had never seen them be serious for more than two seconds—to drop this reminder on Caleb shocked Phoenix almost as much as it did their ortet.

“Um,” Caleb said in a strangled whisper, “I don’t know. I don’t…”

The kitchen and dining room area held a startling similarity to the old house—Novus had probably designed it that way on purpose. Caleb turned and wandered, half dazed, into the room that would have been Achsah’s back at home.

Lake watched him go passively. “That went well. Do you want to check out the rest of the house? Novus put a state of the art hidden room behind the dining room. The wall slides out and everything.”

“You’re not going to go check on him?”

“Nah, he needs a second by himself.”

Lake wandered through the empty halls, and Phoenix followed. “I don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?”

Phoenix struggled for a moment to find the right words. “Why you?” he said finally.

“Because Cherry already took one for the team and yelled at Dad for sacrificing himself.”

“Really? That’s it?”

Lake shrugged. “Locke and I overheard Cherry and Novus talk about it when they first showed us the plans—you know how we like to lurk. Lurking is our favorite. Anyway, Cherry told Novus to just leave it in the plans, and we’d get there later, but, well, like I said, Cherry already did the lecture. Someone else’s turn to be the bearer of unwanted news.” Lake blew a strand of hair out of their face. “Would have loved for it to be Sam, Mr. Logic of Logics, but, well.”

They opened a door. Sure enough, Sam had claimed a space for a lab. Right now, he sat on the floor, twisting pieces of the box. He looked up.

“The box is a gridded cube!” he called excitedly, “Jason has compared it to something in the human realm called a ‘rubik’s cube’ and promised to find me one whenever he next visits. I just have to find the right combination…”

Lake closed the door. “You see the problem. Anyway, Locke and I rock-paper-scissors over it, which he ALWAYS wins, you would not BELIEVE how effective it is when he yells out his choice after I’ve already put my hand out. So I was Mr. Logic of Logics today.” They scratched the back of their head. “Not my favorite of jobs. I tried to channel Sam energy, how’d I do?”

Phoenix shook his head. “How do you do that?”

“What, channel Sam energy? It’s very easy, I just think ‘books, books, books’ in my head over and over again until I’m sufficiently stuffy and sneezing out big words.”

“No, I mean you and Locke—how do you stay so…”

“Charming?”

“…upbeat,” Phoenix finished.

Lake shook their head sadly. “It’s all a coping mechanism, we’re so sad and we cover it up with jokes so that no one will see the empty pit of despair welling up inside.” They grinned, immediately dispelling any thought Phoenix might have had that they were being serious. “Look, Phoenix. You just have to stop taking everything so seriously. We beat Belos! We survived! You’re on track for managing your curse! We’re building a great big house! We fought hard. Now enjoy the spoils.”

Loud banging echoed through the house, metal on wood. Lake glanced at an imaginary watch. “It appears to be checking on Dad o’clock.”

Caleb had left “Achsah’s” room. Instead, he sat in the empty place where the kitchen would be, building a table. He gave Phoenix a cheerful grin. “Been a while since I’ve done any woodworking.”

“You seem… chipper,” Phoenix said cautiously.

“Oh, for Titan’s sake, I can’t do this,” Lake whispered under their breath. They disappeared, and came back with Sam. “Go,” they ordered, pointing him towards Caleb.

Sam blinked, as if disoriented by how fast Lake had separated him from the cube and dragged him here. “Nice table. Avoiding our problems again?”

“I’m not avoiding anything. We need furniture if we’re going to live in this house. I’m solving problems.”

“Very reasonable,” Sam agreed, “How about that problem of Achsah’s room?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Phoenix sighed. This was going nowhere. “Are you okay?” he asked Caleb, “I know this can’t be easy. I know how much keeping her room meant to you.”

Caleb’s hand shook on his hammer. “I knew she wasn’t coming back. I mean, Eda and Lilith existing made that painfully clear. I guess I just hoped… But Lake’s right, aren’t they? It’s not her room anymore. The room’s gone, she’s gone…”

“It’s not wrong to want a reminder,” Phoenix said quietly, “You don’t have to forget her.”

“I don’t think I ever could.”

“You don’t have to decide now,” Sam chimed in, “You can leave the room empty for now. Leave it for last. Besides, you should probably talk to Mom before making a decision.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Caleb gave the three of them a wan smile. “Thank you.”

“Except Lake for bringing it up,” Sam added.

“No. Lake, too.” Caleb took a deep breath. “I’ll think about it.”

He turned back to the table, but the hammering seemed less desperate now. Phoenix swung out at the obvious dismissal, followed closely by Lake.

“Nice handling,” Lake told him, “Next time, I’m leaving the hard discussions to you.”

“No, thanks. I’ve had enough difficult discussions recently, and I don’t need one more.”

Lake gave him a lopsided grin. “Loosen up, remember? Makes the hard stuff easier.”

They disappeared back up the stairs, leaving nothing behind but the echo of their footsteps.

Enjoy the spoils.

Phoenix took a deep breath, looking around the new house with a small smile. They still had plenty to worry about—making this place home, what to do about Achsah’s room, Matt’s upcoming plans—but for now… maybe Lake was right. Maybe it was time to let go.

Days blurred into weeks of painting and building, moving one room at a time. Kitchen and dining room first, so that they’d have somewhere to cook and eat. Caleb set chairs and tables he’d built in the dining room, beaming with pride. Then came the bathrooms, and the common rooms, and finally, Evelyn declared that they’d picked over the ruins enough, and they wouldn’t find anything else, so they might as well start on their rooms. Phoenix still made the commute back to Bonesborough every weekend to see Darius and catch up on the Isles-wide reconstruction efforts.

Phoenix stared at the blank canvas of his wall. While Jason lined his room with books, and Mole lovingly set potted plants, Phoenix sat on his bed, wishing he could do something besides paint. Even before the house had been destroyed, he hadn’t been there long enough to make the room his own—and the time he did get was so hectic, he wasn’t even sure he’d had anything in the house to salvage.

“Going for the minimalistic approach, are we?” Darius asked from the door.

“Darius!” Phoenix jumped up from the bed. The cast had been cut off yesterday, but his ankle was so weak it almost folded underneath him immediately. “Hey—what are you doing here?”

“Getting all the stuff out of my living room. And having a top secret meeting with Matt about his party. You know, I’m not entirely certain he’s separated the idea of a party from coven work.”

“That sounds right.” Phoenix waved a hand at the walls. “What do you think? Bright purple for the walls?”

“Don’t you dare.” Darius looked around the room. “I know just about everything of yours was confiscated when you… disappeared… so I thought… ah, just take it.”

He handed Phoenix a photograph in a simple wooden frame, a photo of he and Darius during the mentorship. Phoenix gently brushed one hand over his photographed face. He’d gotten so used to the scars from Belos’ attack that seeing this photograph without them now felt strange and foreign. His face looked so… young. But even with the great grin plastered across his face in the photo while he headlocked Darius, a tired sadness seemed etched in his face.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, “I don’t remember this being taken—where did you find it?”

“My memories,” Darius replied casually, “I had a copy made.” He sighed. “I know things weren’t rosy perfect back then. I know so much happened to you that I never saw. And I know—or at least I hope—we’re headed towards a better chapter of our life now. But don’t forget the last chapter, eh?”

Phoenix set the photograph up on the dresser, sweeping elixir bottles to the side. “Never. And—Darius? Thank you. For the photo. For letting us stay with you. For… everything.”

“Anytime. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a top secret party meeting I must attend. I believe we are discussing snacks.”

Xxx

“I see someone—wait, no, that’s just someone’s abomination that’s gotten loose.” Jason all-but had his face pressed against the glass of the front window, watching out for incoming guests. “They’ll come, right? I mean, of course our friends will show, but given that half the point is to get the townspeople used to the look-alike family that wandered out of the woods, we really need some people we don’t know.”

“I’m sure they will,” Phoenix assured him, but he watched equally carefully.

“Oh!” Jason yanked back from the window, opening the door and sprinting down the careful garden path, currently devoid of an actual garden. “Willow! Gus! Amity! Luz!” He bowed to Willow with a flourish. “Lord of Bats.”

She returned his over-the-top bow with one of her own. “House of Crows. How lovely to see you again.”

“It’s been three days,” Amity reminded them.

They both laughed, and Jason led the kids towards the door.

“Eda and Lilith are on their way with King,” Luz told Phoenix, “They’ll be here soon. I might take King home at some point, though. Don’t want him up too late and all.”

A loud gasp sounded from the path, and a witch from town clutched her chest. “I—I just thought I was meeting the new neighbors,” she stammered, “I didn’t know that Luz the human would be here—and did you say the owl lady was coming?”

“Yesssss?” Luz said uncertainly, as if unsure whether this information would scare the witch off or not.

“Oh. Oh, my. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

She dashed off back towards town, and Luz winced. “I think your guest list might have just gotten a bit bigger.”

That didn’t bode well. They’d kept the invitations small on purpose—not that anyone but Matt and Darius really knew who was coming, but still, Phoenix thought some of the others might notice if too many people showed up.

Eda, Lilith, and King arrived in a rush of feathers and a bag of elixirs pushed into Phoenix’s arms. He answered Lilith’s seemingly endless questions on their effects, wondering vaguely if anyone had warned Caleb and Evelyn they were coming, but mostly focused on the steady trickle of strangers now coming towards the house.

Caleb and Evelyn wandered into the living room, stopping dead when they spotted Lilith and Eda. Phoenix winced. Caleb didn’t look much like his descendants, but their resemblance to Evelyn was impossible to deny. He could practically see the wheels ticking in Eda’s head. But before she could say anything, the other guests reached the house and she was swept away in a tide of questions and admirations. Luz looked similarly swamped.

“Well, this wasn’t in the plans.” Matt stood on the stairs, chewing thoughtfully on a pen. “I should have guessed something would go wrong. I need to warn Silver.”

The mobs around Eda and Luz split into a third group, buzzing around Darius the moment he walked through the door. He arched one eyebrow at Matt, who winced and shrugged.

“Well, we’re getting a reputation for being well-connected,” Locke said at Phoenix’s elbow, “Fantastic, I’m sure this will hold no negative consequences.” He grinned. “We should invite celebrities over more often.”

Babble surrounded Phoenix as people slowly got over their star-struck awe and spread out. They stuck in small packs, townsfolk interacting with their neighbors, and grimwalkers talking to other grimwalkers. Both groups eyed each other uneasily, skirting around each other and only occasionally exchanging brief hellos and ‘excuse me’s.

“Ah, yes,” Locke deadpanned, “I can feel the house warming up already.” He stuck his nose into the air, shaking his head back and forth. “Can you feel that, Lake?”

As if summoned, Lake seemed to materialize at Phoenix’s other side. “No, Locke, what is it?”

“The tension! It’s so thick it’s starting to physically manife—”

Thump.

Muffled murmurs. Evelyn’s immediate sprint, pushing through guests and grimwalkers alike. “Give him space,” she ordered.

“Steven,” Jason breathed, “He’s having a seizure—we need to move everyone away, there’s not enough space.”

More murmurs and exclamations. Across the room, Silver’s face was as white as a sheet, and they beelined for the nearest window, opening it and oh-so-casually leaning against the sill, prepared to leap out, if Phoenix had to guess.

This is bad.

It didn’t take Darius, party expert extraordinaire, to know that. People flocked naturally to a disaster—they’d crowd Steven, stress Silver, and probably panic themselves, which would only—

“Well, I think it’s time to move this party outside!” Locke hopped up on the stairs, raising their voice, “Do we have any plant witches in attendance tonight?”

Willow raised her hand, and a few others tentatively joined her.

“Who feels like a seed race?”

“What’s that?” someone called.

“Only the best way for a plant witch to show off their magical prowess! Winner gets to take home a rare human realm plant known as ‘mint,’ proven to thrive even in the Isles!”

A few ‘ooo’s rose up, and witches started to wander outdoors. Cherry had quickly assembled a circle of grimwalkers around Steven and Evelyn, blocking them from view while guests went outside.

Willow hung back, raising one eyebrow at Locke. “A seed race, huh? How come I’ve never heard of that before?”

“Because I made it up just now. Mole, you’ve got some seeds, right? Where did you want some of the plants in the garden to go? I’ll make it look natural.”

Caleb slumped against the banister. “Thank you, Locke.” Behind him, Steven slowly sat up, watched by Evelyn like a hawk.

“Hey, it’s what I do. Be a loud and annoying distraction. Just ask Sam!” Locke grinned, bouncing out the door. “Alright, three categories: speed, size, and healthiness! Line up!”

Caleb sighed, joining Evelyn and Steven.

Eda nudged Phoenix. “Hey, introduce me to your planner. We’ve been scheming up a quinceañera party for Luz, and so far, this party’s been a riot.”

“Wish it was less of one.”

She grinned and held out an elixir. “Bottoms up, kid.”

Phoenix glanced down. He hadn’t even noticed his arms had started to drip. Great. Another thing for the townsfolk to take home as a story. He gulped the elixir with a grimace. “Does the taste ever get better?”

“If anything, it gets worse. Ah, well, necessary evils and all that. Not to suddenly change the subject or anything, but do you mind explaining her?” Eda waved an accusing hand towards Evelyn.

“I think you’d better ask her. And Caleb.”

“Yeah, I kind of thought that would be your answer. Well, can’t blame me for trying the easy route.” Eda grabbed Lilith’s arm. “C’mon.”

“What? Where are we going?”

“Answer-hunting.”

Before they could approach Evelyn, Sam thumped down the stairs, puzzle box tucked under his arm. “Oh, is the party over already? Excellent, I didn’t actually want to go.”

Lilith gasped. “Ooo!” She pulled herself from Eda’s grip, reaching for the box. “May I? I love a good puzzle.”

“Be my guest.”

“Aaaaand I’ve lost her,” Eda muttered under her breath, “Right, just me then.” She squared her shoulders, and marched towards Caleb and Evelyn. Steven waved the two of them off with a tired smile, and the two nervously gestured towards Achsah’s room, still untouched.

“They are definitely going to botch the explanation,” Sam said cheerfully, “They always do.”

“Yeah…” Phoenix looked back at Steven to check if he was still upright. He was with Darius now, and the two of them spoke in low voices, occasionally glancing down at Steven’s burned-off sigil. Cherry stood only a few feet away, looking like he was desperately trying not to listen in and at the same time, straining to hear what was being said.

“You’re my WHAT?!” Eda’s voice squawked from Achsah’s room.

“Got it!” Lilith said triumphantly at the same time, “You were so close. I barely had to do anything.” She looked up. “What happened to Eda?”

Phoenix hurried to Achsah’s room, Darius and Steven forgotten. Eda jabbed a finger at him the moment he entered.

“You are not allowed to be my great uncle,” she told him, “Not allowed, do you hear me?”

“Sorry. I’ll try not to be.”

Lilith came in on Phoenix’s heels. “What’s going on?”

“They’re our ancestors, Lili. Our ancestors.”

“Oh,” Lilith said thoughtfully, “That makes sense. Fascinating.” She held out the box. “This is for you two, by the way. Someone called Achsah went great lengths to make sure it reached you through time.”

Caleb all-but snatched the opened box from her, his face pale. “Achsah?!”

Evelyn delicately lifted out a letter. Phoenix caught sight of a bracelet inside, hand-woven leather and beads. Evelyn scanned the letter, her eyes welling up with tears.

“Get Mole, please,” she whispered, and Sam was off. Mole arrived moments later, and Evelyn held up the letter. “Caleb, would you…?”

Caleb took the paper from her, his eyes devouring it like a starving man. “Dear Mom and Dad,” he read out loud, “I’ve buried this letter in a puzzle box under where the kitchen will be someday. I hope you finally get to work on that root cellar you always wanted, or else you won’t find it. Dad—” he choked up, and Evelyn took the letter.

“Dad, I know exactly what you’ve probably been doing since the moment the time pool washed away, and I want you to stop it. What happened wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s. For a while, I was sad, and lost, and wanted nothing more than for you to pop out of another pool and bring me back home.” Evelyn took a deep breath. “But since then, I’ve met some beautiful people, including my partner.”

Caleb took the letter back. “You two would love them, just as much as I love them. I wish the three of you could meet. While I write this, your grandkid is tearing through the house like a tiny terror. He’s got your nose, Dad, and Mom’s eyes. And the healer tells me I’ve got twins coming—isn’t that crazy? I’d do anything to protect them, and I know if you could have come back for me, you would have. But I want you to know that I’m happy here and now. I miss you every day, but I don’t regret the people I’ve met since. Please don’t be sad I’m gone.”

Caleb smiled at Mole. “This next part is for you. Say hi to your lookalike for me, Dad. If he’s anything like you, the ‘don’t blame yourself’ bit goes for him, too. I don’t regret rescuing him. I only wish I’d gotten to know him. Bet he’s awesome. I made a bracelet for him. I know he was passed out, so he probably didn’t see me at all, but it’s just something to remember me by. His younger/older sister.”

Mole sniffed, delicately lifting the bracelet out of the box and slipping it onto his wrist.

“I know we were hiding. I didn’t realize it first, but now that I’ve spent my life here trying to pretend I’ve always lived in this time, I can see it’s the same. Mom. Dad. I don’t want you to keep hiding. Whatever happens, get out there. Show the world who you are. All the love in both dimensions, Achsah.”

Caleb folded up the letter, and they all stood there for a long moment, no one saying anything. Finally, Evelyn took Caleb’s hand. “No more hiding,” she said softly.

“No more hiding,” Caleb echoed, “No more grieving.”

“Are you ready to show the world who we are?”

“If you are.”

Evelyn smiled, and together, she and Caleb walked out to meet the Isles.

Xxx

“Latissa.” Evelyn said the word carefully, like it might shatter in her mouth. “That’s an interesting choice. Any reason?”

Steven rubbed his arm where his sigil used to be. “Darius mentioned something—I know it’s gone, but…”

“The sigil experiments,” Phoenix breathed. That had to be what Darius and Steven had been talking about at the housewarming party. He touched his own mark. The Day of Unity was over, and with it, the danger of the draining spell. The sigils didn’t affect him, but countless witches couldn’t access all their magic—Alador led the way in sigil removal research, and Darius was right there with him.

Steven nodded. “The sigil experiments. I don’t think mine is the same as the modern sigils, since it almost killed me instantly, but Darius said getting a look at the earlier attempts might help them understand the ones we have now.”

“But you said it: you don’t have yours anymore,” Evelyn replied, “How are they going to study it?”

“Questions. Anecdotes. And… the seizures. Darius thinks they’re related.”

“We knew that.”

“Well, yes, but this might be—I mean, if what I know can help them, and if their research can stop the seizures entirely… even if they can’t, I want to help.” Steven shook his head. “I used that glove on other people, even knowing what it would do to them. I can’t change that, but… maybe I can make up for it by helping witches suffering from those sigils now.”

Evelyn chewed on her lip. “Latissa is a bit of a commute without a palisman,” she said finally, “What’s your plan?”

“I’d be staying there.” Steven shrugged, as if trying to make it seem like nothing. “There’s space—they converted the old police station into their center. I’m sure we can fit a bed.”

“I see. Do you—do you know how long you’d be there?” Evelyn’s voice held a sort of desperate casualness to it, like she was trying not to scare Steven off, but also didn’t quite want to let him go.

“Not forever.” Steven’s voice matched Evelyn’s, somehow both intensely normal and strained at the same time. “I’ll be back. Um. I mean, how long could it take, really?”

“How much is Alador like Sam?” Evelyn joked. She rubbed her arm. “Will you be okay? I should go with you.”

“What? Mom, they need you here.”

“But the seizures—if one happens—will Alador know what to do?”

“I’ll tell him,” Steven promised, “And I’m almost certain healers will be involved—I’ll be in the best possible place if something does go wrong. Besides home.”

“Hm.”

Steven took her hands. “Mom, I’ll be safe. I promise. This could be… it could be huge for me.”

“It could be.” Evelyn sighed, wrapping him in a hug. “Oh, I knew you all would grow up. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”

Phoenix thought uneasily of Matt and Alex. Neither of them had announced their plans to leave yet, but maybe Evelyn suspected. Or maybe with Jason always off with the kids, and Auric always off at his new apprenticeship, and Phoenix gone every weekend, she just felt… lonely.

“I won’t be gone for long. Promise.”

Xxx

“Where was that you said? The wreckage of the keep? Again?” Darius pinched his nose, nodding along to the conversation on the other end of the raven phone. “I know—yes. No, we’ll look into it. I said we’ll look into it! Yes, lovely day to you too, goodbye.”

Phoenix winced, setting his weekend bag on the floor with a thump. “Bad time?”

Darius tossed the phone to the side, letting it fly to its perch. “It’s fine. Just Terra rearing her head again. Most of the scouts and coven heads settled in peacefully enough, but every couple of months…”

Phoenix shuddered. He doubted she’d come after him specifically, but part of him was tempted to start checking his drinks for poison. “Is it safe to leave her on the loose?”

“Unlikely. If anyone’s going to cause havoc, it’s going to be her. But the…” Darius heaved a sigh. “…CATs… are spread too thin. Between guarding the new palistrom tree, rebuilding what Belos and the Collector destroyed, and keeping the peace between disoriented and disillusioned citizens, we haven’t had a lot of time or manpower to spare towards tracking her down. And I don’t want to assign someone inexperienced to the job—we need someone who’s used to handling threats. Big ones. People who can corner her, and…” he tilted his head. “You have a thinking face on. You know someone, don’t you? One of your siblings?”

“Yes,” Phoenix said slowly, “Or—at least, I think so. Let me see that phone again?”

One short phone call and a griffin-flight later, Meleager, Horus, Hamlet, and Venari sat in Darius’ living room, studying pictures of Terra with matching frowns.

“Plant magic…” Meleager mused, “Fire and ice, then. I think I still have some leftover frost potions.”

“We need to get her off the ground,” Venari added, “The further she is from seeds and dirt, the harder it’ll be for her to get away.”

Hamlet scratched his head. “Coven head, though, so it’ll be tricky to separate her entirely—any capture method like nets or rope can’t be made of plant fibers, because she might be able to manipulate those.”

“Once we get her hands and feet immobilized, that won’t be as big of an issue,” Horus declared, “Focus on the capture—containment after should be comparatively easy.”

“Sounds like they’ve got this under control,” Darius murmured to Phoenix.

“They’ve been bored,” Phoenix replied equally quietly, “Oh, just—make sure you prioritize capturing Terra alive.”

Darius chuckled, then glanced at Phoenix and stopped abruptly. “Oh, you’re not kidding. They’ll—”

“Without hesitation.”

“Huh. Well, would it really be that much of a loss? Kidding,” he added quickly, “I’ll be sure to tell them.”

Phoenix shrugged. “I’ve got no love lost for Terra. But I don’t want them killing anyone, for sure. I don’t think that’s a path anyone wants them taking.”

“Hey.” Darius gave Phoenix a small smile. “Give them a little trust. They met Petro—I don’t think they’re in any hurry to go down the killing spree path.”

“Hm. I hope you’re right. They still might engage in some light torture, though.”

Darius squeezed his eyes shut. “Why do I feel like you handed me a bigger problem than the one you’ve solved?”

“They’ll be fine. Just…”

“Reiterate the capturing her alive part, yes, understood.”

“We’re going,” Venari declared, “We’ll see you in… what, 3 days at the worst?”

“We’re staking out the keep. We might come back to steal Dagger,” Meleager explained, “We got this, Phoenix, she’ll never poison anyone again.”

“Alive,” Darius warned, “Capture her alive!”

Horus gave him a thumbs-up, and the four of them disappeared out the door. Darius watched them go, the worry on his face shifting to a pensive, planning expression. “You know, if this goes well, I might have a few other hunts for them. Terra’s not the only one who’s clinging to her old power.”

Phoenix grinned. “I’m sure they’d like that very much.”

Xxx

“Oop—watch the root—”

Phoenix caught Mole’s arm at Jason’s warning, keeping him upright when he stumbled. “Maybe we should take off the blindfold?” he suggested, “The footing’s getting a little treacherous.”

“But then it wouldn’t be a surprise!” Jason protested, “Maybe you could carry him?”

Mole’s nose scrunched up at the suggestion, and Phoenix shook his head. “Yeah, I don’t think he wants that.”

“Well, we’re almost there anyway. Come on.”

Phoenix didn’t pick Mole up, but he held his arm out for Mole to cling to and guided him slowly over the forest floor. Mole gave him a brief grateful smile, jabbing one finger at the blindfold and heaving a fond sigh.

“He’s a bit excited,” Phoenix agreed, “He’s been taking trips out here with Hunter and Willow an awful lot, but they’ve been tight-lipped about it to me, too.”

“Okay, Phoenix, now you have to close your eyes, too!”

“I thought this was a surprise for Mole?” Phoenix protested.

“It is,” Hunter agreed, appearing at Phoenix’s elbow with Flapjack in his staff form, “But it’s a surprise for everyone. Don’t worry, I’ve got you two.”

Phoenix closed his eyes. Hunter’s hand closed over his arm, and he heard the tell-tale sound of a flash-step, his balance just ever-so-slightly thrown off at the sudden change in placement.

“Okay, open them,” Jason ordered.

Phoenix opened his eyes, and beside him, Mole took off the blindfold.

A massive blue tree towered over them, blooming with blue leaves and flowers. Phoenix had never seen a tree like this, but something about it seemed… familiar. His skin crawled with that feeling of just knowing something, deep inside, like how his curse recognized Belos, but more positive.

“Is that… palistrom?” he asked.

Mole stepped forward as if in a trance, putting one hand on the massive blue trunk. He nodded in answer to Phoenix’s question, pressing his forehead to the bark like it was an old friend. Silent tears streamed down his face, and Phoenix remembered just how long ago Mole had technically been born. He must have been used to seeing palistrom forests peppering the Isles, and had woken up suddenly in a world without them.

“The palisman this tree could make,” Phoenix murmured, “It grew so big so fast!”

“Willow had a lot to do with that part,” Hunter explained, “But, well, there’s a reason there was a shortage for so long.”

“Palistrom were kept strictly monitored by Belos,” Phoenix remembered, “You think he kept them small on purpose? Of course he did,” he answered his own question, “Why wouldn’t he? The more magic stifled, the better.”

Hunter fidgeted, twisting his hands around each other. Jason nudged him. “Go on,” he whispered, “Tell them.”

“Tell us what?”

“I’m going to be a palisman carver,” Hunter burst out, “Caleb’s taught me some, and I’ve been talking to Eda’s dad, Dell—he was a professional carver, you know—and he’s going to take me on as an apprentice.” He looked up at the tree, eyes shining. “With the way this tree’s been growing and flowering, we should be able to repopulate the Isles with palistrom in no time. Luckily, the palistrom is a self-pollinating plant. And even just a solid branch from this tree—anyone can have a palisman. Everyone can.” He scratched the back of his neck shyly. “I was thinking… I was thinking I could carve one for Caleb first. Since… you know. He carved my palisman.”

Phoenix smiled warmly. “That sounds like a great idea.”

“And… I could carve one for everyone in the family. Or you could adopt!” he added quickly, “The Bat Queen has dozens of palisman looking for a home. But yes. I could carve one. Hypothetically. No promises yet, I’m still learning, but—oh, okay, you hate the idea.”

“What?” Phoenix reached up to find tears running from his eyes. “No—no, Hunter, I don’t hate the idea, I…” he searched for the right words to describe how he felt. A palisman? For him? He’d never even considered it, not with the life he’d lived. The curse curled up inside him rumbled at the idea, but he couldn’t tell if it was the remnants of Belos protesting, the palisman eager for a palisman of their own outside of him, or something hungrier. “Is that a good idea?” he said finally, “I mean, with…” he gestured to his arms.

“Do you want one?” Jason asked.

“Yes.” The word slipped out of Phoenix’s mouth almost without a thought. He hadn’t realized he wanted one until now, but he knew it deep inside, watching Flapjack and Hunter. “I do.”

“Then we’ll find a way to make it work,” Jason said firmly, “Whatever that means.”

Mole nodded joining them. He pointed to himself, tilting his head in a question.

“Yeah, of course I can make one for you,” Hunter interpreted, “Any idea what you’d want? We can always go the egg route if not. Sounds pretty easy to carve, too.”

A mischievous grin crept over Mole’s face, and he pointed to himself again. Hunter frowned.

“I don’t know what you’re asking—sorry, we’ll figure it ou—”

Jason groaned. “Oh, no. You want a mole for a palisman, don’t you?”

Mole nodded vigorously, breaking off into peals of laughter. Phoenix groaned with Jason, but Mole’s laughter was infectious, and a smile took over his face despite himself.

Palisman for us. It didn’t seem right—not after all the palisman he’d handed over to Belos. Maybe Mole or Jason deserved one—after all, Belos had tried to kill Jason for protecting the little creatures. Phoenix? He’d never even considered another option besides giving them to their doom.

But Flapjack sat scarred and proud on Hunter’s shoulder despite everything, like a beacon saying it’s possible; you just have to want it enough, and the tree loomed over them, big, and beautiful, and strong despite what Belos had tried to do to its species, and right here, in this forest, Phoenix did want it.

We’ll find a way to make it work.

Xxx

Phoenix climbed out an attic hatch onto the roof—another holdover from the old house’s design. He didn’t quite join Cherry where he sat on the edge of the roof, legs dangling over, but he sat down close.

“I thought this was Jason’s brooding spot. Enjoying the view?”

Cherry glanced back at him. “It’s quieter than I thought it would be.”

“Hm?”

Cherry waved a hand at the town sprawling in the near distance. “I thought it would be noisy, living so much closer to other people. But in the evening, if I close my eyes, it’s almost like nothing’s changed. It’s like we’re still back in the forest, and we’re all together. No one’s left and gone where I can’t protect them. And then I open my eyes, and… it’s all so different now.”

“It’s not a bad thing. They’ll be okay.”

“Mm.” Cherry stared out over the town again, his hair almost red in the light of the setting sun. “You ever think it was strange, how close to Belos we were hiding? I mean, the third rib? We might as well have been on his doorstep. But we weren’t discovered. Somehow, we were never discovered. Somehow, Mom and Dad managed to save every one of us, no matter how badly we were injured. Isn’t that odd? We didn’t lose a single person.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Belos always said loss was so necessary, and I believed him. I saw it firsthand, how sometimes people had to be sacrificed. We were some of those people. But somehow, no one died. None of us—despite how many people we killed, not one of us went down. Why did we get to survive when so many people didn’t?” He chuckled, a low, humorless sound. “Doesn’t that seem so improbable, when you think about it? Belos might have been lying about the titan having plans for us, but sometimes it almost does feel like there’s some higher power out there who’s decided to keep us alive.”

“Or one determined human and witch.” Phoenix scooted closer to Cherry, eying the edge of the roof. “It does seem improbable,” he admitted, “People died—and we were responsible some of the time. But we all made it. Against the odds. I think this family is good at that.”

Cherry heaved a sigh. “But what’s the point, if we’re not going to stick together? What’s the point, if after everything, everyone goes their separate ways? We got so far, only to fall apart at the end.”

“We’re not falling apart.” Phoenix looked up at the moon and stars slowly replacing the sun as the brightest things in the sky. “You know… I used to see Darius every day. I’d take him with me on missions. I’d test his skills, but I was always there to protect him if something happened. But when I first woke up with Caleb and Evelyn… he’d grown. He was a capable adult who could handle himself. And that was a hard thing to accept. If he didn’t need me to protect him, if he didn’t need a mentor, then what use was I to him?”

Phoenix smiled. “But we haven’t fallen apart yet. Maybe he doesn’t need a mentor anymore. Maybe he doesn’t need my protection. But I think he still needs me. Just me, because I’m me and that’s enough of a reason.” Phoenix nudged Cherry’s shoulder. “It’s not going to be the same. They’re not going to be as close. They won’t always need your protection anymore. And that’s going to be difficult to get used to. But I don’t think they’ll ever stop needing you.”

Cherry watched the sun finally disappear completely over the horizon, silent until it was gone. “I don’t want our lives to change,” he said finally, “I think I’m glad for the others finding what they want, but I’m not sure who I am without them. I’ve been looking after them for so long, trying to forget the past for so long… I don’t want to be left alone with myself.”

“Hm.” Phoenix leaned back, finally kicking his legs over the edge of the roof and sitting fully next to Cherry. “Well. I can tell you some good news about that.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes. Even if they all leave, even if we all go our separate ways, you aren’t going to be alone, Cherry. We will always have your back. We’ll only be one raven call away.”

A smile flashed across Cherry’s face. “You’re going to have to teach me how to use one.”

“Oh. Right.”

“But… thanks, Phoenix. For having my back.”

Xxx

Despite Phoenix’s late start, his room filled up over months of living. Mole commandeered his window space with new plants, human realm varieties that Camila shared. Light blue walls were quickly covered over with scribbles that Ghost had presented him, and photos Willow shared. She always seemed to be dropping by, picking up Hunter or Jason or both of them. Sometimes, even Mole went along to visit the palistrom tree. Little practice wood carvings that Hunter made with Caleb and Dell surrounded the photograph Darius had given to him. Hunter hadn’t carved any palisman for the family besides Mole’s mole, but one day, Jason came back from the human realm library with a massive book full of animal pictures that he and Phoenix pored over for hours, looking for a creature that felt right.

Jason tapped one foot. “We’re going to be late. Hunter and Willow are outside waiting.”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a second. We’ll have at least half an hour while Caleb and Flapjack catch up.” Phoenix drank an elixir. Today had been a good day for the curse, but he didn’t want to push it staying up late.

Jason wandered over to the window, peering into the garden. “He’s gotten taller than me,” he grumbled, “Traitor. I’ll be inconsolable if Ghost gets big like that. I cannot be the shortest in the family.”

Phoenix ruffled his hair, his arm braces clicking gently at the movement. “Aw, don’t you want to stay the baby forever? You don’t want to be Evelyn’s little snuggle buddy?”

“I will always be Mom’s little snuggle buddy, thank you very much, but that doesn’t mean I have to be the shortest. Ghost has to be shorter. They have to.”

“Do not.” Ghost wrinkled their nose at Jason from the doorway. “I’m gonna be so big. Gonna eat griffins. In one bite.”

“Don’t let Joseph hear you say that,” Phoenix joked, “He’ll disown you.”

Ghost squeaked, tugging on Phoenix’s arm. “Nee-Nee, it’s time to go,” they said impatiently, “I wanna see King.”

“Alright, I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Phoenix followed Ghost downstairs. Hunter chattered excitedly to Caleb about the palisman he was working on, and Willow gave Jason their customary bow and exchange of royal titles.

“I can just walk, right?” Phoenix asked Hunter.

“Low and slow,” Hunter promised.

“You never actually mean that,” Phoenix grumbled, but he sat behind Hunter anyway, picking Ghost up and holding them tightly in his lap.

Hunter did fly too fast and too high for Phoenix’s taste, but Willow and Jason still beat them by a mile, so he supposed Hunter had been taking it easy on him.

Ghost squirmed out of Phoenix’s lap almost before they’d completely landed, bolting to tackle King in a hug. The titan fell in mock defeat.

“Curses! You’ve defeated the king of the demons this time, little Ghost!”

“She’s coming!” Eda called, “Everyone ready?”

Luz walked through the door, and the quinceañera passed by in a blur of well-wishes and laughter. Phoenix exchanged smiles and hellos with what seemed like everyone on the Isles.

“You thought any more about the mentoring offer? The university’s really taking off.”

Phoenix smiled tiredly in response to Eda. “I’d need a way to get there. Getting Ghost to Hexside is going to be tricky enough.”

“Man. Get a palisman already, would ya?”

Eda’s grin dispelled any bite to the words, but Phoenix’s attention hung fully on the portal door hanging wide open behind her. He glanced around to make sure Ghost was safe—they chased happily after Flapjack, who Phoenix was relatively certain was one of the more responsible people here—and quickly pushed through into the human realm before he could convince himself not to.

Creak.

Phoenix’s eyes darted over furniture that formed monsters and familiar specters in the dark. Wait a minute…

“Petro?” he called, just in case.

“No,” Jason’s voice called from the basement, “Just me.”

Phoenix creaked his way down the stairs to the basement, wincing at every sound. He sat on the bottom of the stairs next to Jason. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Jason gestured out towards the mound where Phoenix knew Belos’ remains lay. “Do you ever wake up and just… forget for a minute that he’s gone?”

Phoenix rubbed his arms. A part of Belos would always live in him, in the curse—for him the problem was more remembering that he was gone at all. “Sometimes,” he admitted, “I’m guessing you do.”

Jason sighed. “I know it’s been years, but… sometimes it just doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I feel like he’s still coming for me. I mean, after all he’s survived, how can I even truly be sure he’s gone?” He rested his chin on his knees. “I don’t know if I’ll ever really believe it.”

Phoenix chuckled dryly. “Can you imagine how furious he’d be if he was still alive?”

Jason cracked a smile at that. “A university of wild magic?” he joked, “He’s probably spinning in his grave fast enough to generate the electricity needed to power this whole neighborhood. Not to mention us.”

“Not to mention us,” Phoenix echoed, “He’d be devastated if he knew we were happy.”

“Guess we better keep being happy, then. Just to spite him.” Jason’s smile faded, and he went back to looking over Belos’ grave.

Phoenix nudged his shoulder. “Hey,” he said quietly, “He’s dead. For real this time. He’s not coming back. But when it feels like he might, when it feels like he’s going to jump out of nowhere and sink his claws into you… you know where to find me. Or Cherry. Or Caleb, or Evelyn, or Mole, or anyone else. You’re going to be okay.”

“Yeah. I think I am.”

Jason got up, stretching and offering his hand to Phoenix. “Let’s get out of here.”

Phoenix happily obeyed, following Jason back into light and laughter. Ghost wandered over, their eyelids drooping. Flapjack chirped an admonishment, tugging affectionately on their hair.

“Hey, Ghost,” Phoenix said quietly, crouching down next to them, “You all tired out?”

They rubbed their eyes. “I’m not sleepy,” they said stubbornly, in spite of their giant yawn, “I just… want to go to bed and rest my eyes.”

“Fair enough.” Phoenix scooped Ghost up, holding them as easily as if they were still a toddler. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

#YAY WE FINISHED IT IN TIME FOR GILDED'S BIRTHDAY!!!! BARELY BUT WE DID IT!!!#toh #the owl house #gilded family au #toh fanfiction #my writing #caleb wittebane #golden guard oc #evelyn clawthorne #willow park #hunter wittebane

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autistichalsin · 17 days

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Some fics I have planned

Some are just vague ideas, some are full out being drafted.

1. Various Burdens-verse fics; a prequel showing how Halsin and Kiaran met during the game timeline, a sequel about them visiting Halsin's family's graves, a sequel about how they both deal with the loss of their families while they await the arrival of their new baby, with lots of flashbacks to their childhoods, a sequel showing some of their continued sexual adventures. etc.

2. A few different takes on Halsin's abduction by Orin, some shippy, and some not (it just makes a really good scenario).

3. A fix-it fic for the 'disappointed Bhaal' Dark Urge ending where Halsin vows to cure Kiaran somehow.

4. An AU about how tadpoled/Origin Halsin would play out.

5. A tadpolycule fic where everyone at camp realizes they have feelings for Halsin and each decide to bring him on a date/otherwise court him.

6. A Halsin/Wyll/Karlach fic where Karlach and Wyll have broken off from an evil-aligned party, and rescue Halsin- but not in time to stop the Grove raid, causing a lot of hurt/comfort.

7. A Kiaran/Halsin omegaverse story where Halsin, who has a hormonal disorder, has his first heat ever at or shortly after the epilogue party.

8. A whump fic about evil, Lolth-sworn Drow Tav making good on that threat to sell Halsin back into the Underdark.

9. A T4T Halsin/Karlach fic.

10. A Halsin/Tav/Ascended Astarion fic where Astarion turns abusive and Halsin has to decide exactly how much he'll take before he leaves, even if it means leaving Tav (who doesn't want to leave) alone with Astarion.

11. A Kiaran/Halsin fic where Kiaran decides his foster family deserves a second chance at life, manages to make it happen, and a lot of VERY painful and complicated conversations happen as they all try to heal.

12. An AU (can't decide if I want it shippy or gen, or what ship) where a fight going wrong results in Halsin being disabled, and the fallout from that.

13. Another Kiaran/Halsin fic, this one an AU where Halsin dies during/after the final battle, and Kiaran absolutely loses it.

14. A hurt/comfort fic where Halsin gets persuaded to stay in camp while Minthara is there, and Minthara proceeds to trigger Halsin's trauma very badly.

15. An angsty Halstarion fic where Astarion tries, but finds he really isn't as good at being there for Halsin as Halsin is for him, and Halsin keeps insisting he's okay with it, but Astarion grows frustrated.

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faithfromanewperspective · 3 months

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gotta say it now bc i've been spending so much time in the 5sos fandom where we're all super protective of our creators: I know supporting an author isn't the same. I know cassie doesn't put herself out there in the same way as zillennial musicians. and I know there are things people in the fandom disagree with her on and I'm not here to minimise that.

but everywhere I interact with the fandom and it's been like this for years now, jokes and things about how old we'll be when the series is finished and yeah it's funny to some extent but as someone who knows what pressure to create does to me, who knows how much it dries my creativity, she's on tumblr. she's seeing some of this. and we gotta tow this line and be careful: careful as to how we're treating her and also careful for the sake of fans ourselves--we don't want to be acting in ways that incidentally result in content being delayed and lower quality because she's been burnt out for ages and we're just giving so much pressure to read twp, read tbvotd and read whatever else she'll doubtless come up with after because she loves the shadowhunters world, she always ends up writing more for it even when she says she won't. and aren't we lucky for that? we love the tsc universe. and if we're old by the time it's all finished, that's the result of her loving this universe she created so much that she just kept writing for it. it's a blessing.

and maybe i sound like an aussie who grew up under a rock in the middle of the bush (which I am) saying this but. when my only queer representation was a singular jacqueline wilson book until i was 14 and read malec's story in tmi, when i've never seen another author portray such a diverse range of realistic neurodivergent characters, when i'm a half white poc with grandparents from borneo which is partially in indonesia and magnus is indonesian, I do find in myself some appreciation for her: the author who created a world of characters I see myself in and I do hope she's okay and I want her to recover from burnout, I know how much it sucks, and it still kinda baffles me how she'll share bits and pieces of her mental health experiences (and she's my parents' age!! and a lot more emotionally aware than most gen x's I know which I so appreciate) and we don't, largely, as a fandom, seem to care. like i get we're in a fandom for the characters and stories she created not her, herself, but like ???

I love seeing the artist behind the art they create. I love it when they're human and imperfect and yet we can still see the good in them that they put out to impact the world with, a legacy, and when we see their imperfections and we can acknowledge this all together, acknowledge and come together for the fans who have been hurt by these mistakes, oversights, harmful views, that are mixed in with the good. and I love it when we can still come together after this and be like, I support this creator, I want them to be okay, I want them to keep discovering love and I want to see it in their writing. and this I don't think should only apply to conventionally attractive twentysomething men who sing! maybe i'm biased in the observation that it is usually where I see the most artist support. or maybe it's actually a trend and as feminists, as people who see our dignity in more than being fuckable and more than being Perfect Leaders, we can do better.

and so i don't care when the wicked powers come out. i'll have finished my masters' degree before I finish that book series and hear the rest of kit and ty's story i started reading in high school. but that's okay. if that's what it takes to get a good story. i don't care when we get the final tec book, even though i've got two copies of the other two on my bookcase and don't know if the cover art will even be the same when the third one comes out. because we love pretty timely things but we're not owed them. and I have to say, this isn't completely true. I do care. I do want to know. I do want to experience that joy. but much more than that I want cassie to write at her own pace and I want her to enjoy it and I want her to keep discovering her own creativity and the proof is honestly in the pudding that every artist I've seen decide to do things at their own rate has ended up way more productive than before they decided that. and artists are people after all. it's what makes their art so good and forms the basis for the fandoms we're in. so I hope she knows it's okay to take her time.

#cassandra clare #tsc #tmi #tid #tda #twp #tec #the wicked powers #tlh #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #again. i really don't want to say 'she's perfect and can never hurt people'#but the point of this is that she still deserves to have freedom over her schedule and we can do our part by not being demanding to the #extent that we forget that she's human. that she's poured so much of herself into the characters and worlds she's made and she deserves to #keep looking after herself even when that means we don't get what we want as soon as we want it. we can be a loyal fandom

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elisedonut · 5 months

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❄️HARRY POTTER REC FEST 2023❄️

Lightning round because i for sure got distracted and never finished after day 12

so here we go i wont go into too much detail for any of these I did skip a couple that i didn't have an idea for as expected but enjoy!

13. A fic with over 100k words

Percy Take the Wheel by KittySmith

My personal favorite long Percy-centric fic!

Based on the concept of “What if Molly and Arthur died between the first and second books and Percy ended up being the brother to step up to take care of his younger siblings”

14. A favorite series

Harry Potter and the Ticket Backwards by viciousmouse

Gen Time travel Au’s my beloved. Another Harry goes back in fic but this one has a ton of focus on smaller characters Dudley, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott ect ect.

Also Harry convinces Percy to try to become a lawyer.

16 A fic that made you laugh

Hexes Are Not Romantic by Electroid

Flintley with Marcus being dumb and not going about this whole flirting thing very well. Very cute.

19. Fic with the hottest smut

Points (not) Taken by Green

Flintley with honestly, again Marcus just not doing boundaries but i think about it alot, it’s probably one of my favorite Flintley works.

20. A fic rated G

Dancing Lessons by HPfanatic12

Gen fic where Percy teaches Harry how to dance for the Yule Ball. Very cute and fun concept.

+ Ludicrous by mrsprobie

Justin Finch-Fletchley/Percy Weasley, meet cute. Very cute.

23. A soulmate fic

Into Oblivion by hmweasley

Draco Malfoy/Percy Weasley, I know someone else has Rec’ed this one for this fest already but i am too it’s very interesting

24. A holiday fic

Saving Christmas by A_Door

Percy Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Very cute story of Blaise trying to show Percy their into him without saying it despite their many attempts going right over Percy’s head.

25. A fic rated T

wholly true by starsailing

Flintley, Once again awkward Marcus trying to court/flirt will never not be entertaining to me. In this case with gift giving

26. A fic with an ending you can’t stop thinking about

There's Rue for You by Mr_Customs_Man

Flintley but only like kinda, anyway Ok so i’ll admit i'm stretching ending here. The part I think the most about with this is the end of Percy’s stay with Marcus but still I think about the regular ending too, because that whole last paragraph is just oof.

It’s fic exploring an AU where Peter polyjuiced as Percy after the fight and Percy goes through hell

27. A Muggle-AU fic

blueberry eyes ( seem to make time still ) by pandorascrate

Hannah Abbott/Percy Weasley. I liked that they didn't immediately get together. It took years in the story for them to get together. Also Percy feels good in this. I like the way he was written.

29. A post-canon fic More Lessons in Grieving as Taught by Dennis Creevy by angeladex

Gen Dennis and George talk after the final battle. Pulling Dennis into stories revolving around the Weasley’s grief for Fred is always really interesting to me and i’m not going to lie this one almost made me cry.

30. A pre-canon fic Life Lessons as Taught by Luna Lovegood by angeladex

Gen When Luna’s mom dies she goes to the burrow to tell the Weasley’s her family won’t be coming over for dinner after all and Percy walks her home. I really liked this. Percy’s reactions to a 9 year old Luna trying to weave around saying outright that her mom is dead was really good.

31. A fav amongst favs Vivaldi and Hot Chocolate by Patriceavril

Stan Shunpike/Percy Weasley, I’m very biased towards this one i won’t even lie but i love it very much. It’s cute, it’s sweet. Percy’s characterization is really nice. Stan’s characterization is really fun.

@hprecfest

#hprecfest2023 #percy weasley #marcus flint #draco malfoy #george weasley #hannah abbott #justin finch fletchley #stan shunpike #dennis creevey #luna lovegood #flintley #Stercy #blaise zabini

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youroselion · 11 months

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Скоро Мэтти подрастет и сам сможет строить замки из песка, а пока только любуется мамиными постройками!

#🦀⛱️#ts4 story #the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 simblr #sims story #симс 4 #симс #симс 4 династия #симблер #after story gen 14

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hel-the-growl · 1 year

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Nezha Reborn annotations - Part 2

Part 1｜Part 3

Monkey asks Yunxiang whether his dad ever told him the story of Nezha conquering the dragon king when he was a kid. Most Chinese people will probably remember this story from the 1979 animation of the same title that was adapted from chapter 14 of Investiture of the Gods.

More product displacement: Smirnoff, what looks to be Suntory Royal and if you zoom in on the Jack Daniels, it reads “Made in Light Chaser” lol

Primordial Spirit or “god-body” is something you’ll see a lot in the New Gods universe. Known in Chinese as yuanshen (元神), it is a concept in Daoism defined to be a level of existence surpassing that of physical existence, capable of existing independently in the form of a soul. It is viewed to be the center and essence of a human's existence.

Monkey breaks the fourth wall

This quote comes from Liu An’s poem Nüwa mending the heavens (女娲补天), delivered Peking Opera style, down to the mannerisms. The caged bird could be a thrush or a lark. Bird keeping is a traditional hobby in Beijing that started in the Qing Dynasty and songbirds were usually kept in these cylindrical cages.

I shouldn’t have laughed so hard when he accidentally killed the glasses monkey and continued his business like nothing happened.

“Fire imp” (葫芦老四) is the fourth of the seven Calabash Brothers, a classic Chinese cartoon from the 80s. Each bro has a unique power, and bro #4’s power is the ability to control fire. The snake demoness is an integral part of that story, so Light Chaser’s White Snake movies might actually be set in the same universe?????

Chan and Jie are religions featured in IOTG. Chan Daoism was founded by Yuanshi Tianzun (Primeval Lord of Heaven) and Laozi, and Yang Jian is one of its disciples. Jie is a fictional religion headed by Tongtian.

The most unfortunate character in this movie has got to be this monkey.

“Are your training methods even legit?”

Where did he get so much water? I thought water was being sanctioned.

RIP this monkey again.

He built his own version of Nezha’s spear.

The Six-Eared Macaque is arguably the most dangerous antagonist in Journey to the West. This deceptive creature impersonated Sun Wukong after the Monkey King abandoned his pilgrimage following a tiff with Tripitaka, with the impersonation so perfect, only Gautama Buddha and Diting could see through the pretense.

Nezha’s primordial spirit manifests as his three-headed, six-armed form.

Nezha is traditionally depicted with his four Astras - the Wind Fire Wheels (风火轮) under his feet, the Cosmic Ring (乾坤圈) around his body, the Sky Ribbon (浑天绫) around his shoulders and a Fire-tipped Spear (火尖枪) in his right hand.

This man has gills.

The Yaksa Li Gen is described as a lizard like creature with long mercury red hair, protruding fangs, and a face the color of indigo. (IOTG chapter 12).

Netflix's thirst trap of a thumbnail is from a scene that lasted ONE WHOLE SECOND.

It’s hilarious how this guy was just credited as “the traitor”.

The art deco style of the crystal palace 👌

In 2013, archaeologists unearthed a 1000 year old statue in Sichuan in that depicted a beast resembling a rhinoceros. This was believed to be the water-suppressing mythological beast Zhenshui Shenshou (镇水神兽) that was documented in the Biography of Shu Kings Written by Yang Xiong in Han Dynasty.

“I taught him? I don’t even have disciples! Stop joking.”

Dragons kind of have a low status in heaven (no matter how majestic they are, they are still beasts and all beasts are looked down upon by the gods), unlike in the mortal realm where they are revered.

Even in his dragon form, Ao Bing’s spinal column is supported by metal bracing.

Part 1｜Part 3

#new gods: nezha reborn #new gods #nezha reborn #nezha #新神榜 #新神榜：哪吒重生 #哪吒重生 #哪吒 #jttw

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naturalrights-retard · 5 months

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STORY AT-A-GLANCE

Evidence suggests the lab leak theory has been intentionally ignored because individuals who had a hand in the creation of SARS-CoV-2 needed to cover up the fact that it was manmade to protect reputations and money flows

The lesson to be learned is that we cannot afford to allow this kind of research to continue

In 2018, EcoHealth Alliance submitted a proposal to the Pentagon’s Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA), requesting $14 million for gain-of-function (GOF) research on bat sarbecoviruses. The proposal spelled out the intent to insert “human-specific cleavage sites” into sarbecoviruses, a genus of coronavirus to which SARS-CoV belongs. This also happens to be one of the radically novel features that makes SARS-CoV-2 so infectious to humans

At the end of December 2023, U.S. Right to Know (USRTK) received an early draft of the proposal with comments from Daszak and Baric in the margins. The comments reveal Daszak misled DARPA about where the research was to be conducted

The Pentagon rejected the proposal, but questions remain whether the research was conducted under some other program

As noted by Spiked reporter Matt Ridley,1 “It is completely normal to start inquiries into mass deaths by asking how they happened — so that you can stop them happening again ...”

Yet in the case of the COVID pandemic, all questioning and discussion about the origin of the virus have been dismissed as more or less irrelevant, and mainstream journalists have mysteriously steered clear of what could easily be one of the biggest stories of their lifetimes. As reported by Ridley:2

“The evidence that this virus probably came from the Wuhan Institute of Virology is now voluminous, detailed and strong.3 That an outbreak caused by a bat sarbecovirus should happen in the one city in the world that had been collecting hundreds of bat sarbecoviruses and experimenting on them is striking enough.

That it happened one year after that lab proposed inserting the one feature that distinguishes SARS‑CoV‑2 from all other viruses of the same kind makes it a heck of a coincidence.

That the virus was highly infectious from the start, highly attuned to human receptors and evolving comparatively slowly, implying it had been already trained on human cells, was a shock.

That the lab in question refuses to this day to release the database of the viruses it had been working on is as insulting as it is suspicious. The coincidences of time and place are truly spectacular ...4

Millions are dead around the world and the most likely cause is an accident during a risky experiment in a laboratory. Should we not be learning lessons from that?”

An Intentional Coverup

Evidence suggests the lab leak theory has been intentionally ignored because the individuals who had a hand in the creation of SARS-CoV-2 needed to cover up the fact that it was manmade to protect reputations and money flows.

The lesson to be learned is that we cannot afford to allow this kind of research to continue, and that’s a public realization the scientific community desperately wants to avoid.

The lesson to be learned is that we cannot afford to allow this kind of research to continue, and that’s a public realization the scientific community is desperate to avoid. The reality, however, is that extremely risky research is being conducted, and the scientific community is playing fast and loose when it comes to safety.

In 2018, Peter Daszak, a British zoologist and president of EcoHealth Alliance, a U.S.-based research organization, submitted a grant proposal to the Pentagon’s Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA), requesting $14 million for gain-of-function (GOF) research on bat sarbecoviruses.

His DEFUSE proposal5,6,7 specifically spelled out the intent to insert “human-specific cleavage sites” into sarbecoviruses, a genus of coronavirus to which SARS-CoV belongs. This also happens to be one of the radically novel features that makes SARS-CoV-2 so infectious to humans. Of the 1,500 coronaviruses known to exist, none but SARS-CoV-2 has this cleavage site.

According to the proposal, the work was to be carried out either at a biosafety level 3 (BSL- 3) lab in Wuhan, the Duke-NUS Medical School in Singapore, Ralph Baric’s lab at the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill, and/or the U.S. Geological Survey National Wildlife Health Center.

It didn’t specify which portions of the research would be done where, yet Daszak has insisted that the work was always intended to be carried out at the UNC, not the WIV.8

Leaked Document Shows Daszak Intended to Deceive DARPA

The DEFUSE proposal came to light after being leaked in the fall of 2021.9 In his defense, Daszak has argued that the Pentagon rejected the proposal, so the research was never carried out.10

However, at the end of December 2023, Emily Kopp with U.S. Right to Know (USRTK) received an early draft11 of the DEFUSE proposal with comments from Daszak and Baric in the margins, which reveal Daszak intentionally mislead DARPA about where the research was to be conducted.

In one comment, he even admits seeking to “downplay the non-U.S. focus of [the] proposal”12 by not including the biographies of Shi Zhengli, the so-called “bat lady” at the WIV, and Duke-NUS Medical School Professor Linfa Wang, both of whom were going to be involved in the experiments. Baric, for his part, also stressed the risks involved.

“Ralph, Zhengli. If we win this contract, I do not propose that all of this work will necessarily be conducted by Ralph [Baric], but I do want to stress the US side of this proposal so that DARPA are comfortable with our team,” Daszak wrote,13 adding, “Once we get the funds, we can then allocate who does what exact work, and I believe that a lot of these assays can be done in Wuhan as well.”

Baric replied to Daszak’s comment, stating:14

“In the US, these recombinant SARS-CoV are studied under BSL3 … In China, [we] might be growin[g] these virus[es] under BSL2. US [researchers] will likely freak out.”

Download this Article Before it Disappears

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Damning Commentary

As noted by Justin Kinney, a quantitative biologist at Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory and cofounder of Biosafety Now, the comments by Daszak and Baric are “damning.”

“These revelations are important because these specific experiments could, quite plausibly, have led to the genetic engineering and accidental release of SARS-CoV-2,” Kinney told Kopp.15

“BSL-2 experiments are more convenient and less expensive than BSL-3 experiments … However, BSL-2 provides a far lower level of biosafety than BSL-3 does. This lower safety level is especially dangerous for experiments involving viruses that can be transmitted by air.

It is very concerning that Daszak and Baric appear to have considered it legitimate to move high-risk experiments from BSL-3 to BSL-2. It is also concerning that they appear to have considered doing so in secret, instead of disclosing this important change of experimental plans and biosafety precautions in their grant proposal.”

Was the Risky GOF Research Still Carried Out?

As for whether the research detailed in the DEFUSE proposal was ever carried out, it’s possible, but evidence is still lacking. According to Ridley,16 “there is every chance the work went ahead with funding from the Chinese Academy of Sciences.”

USRTK also notes that even though the Pentagon didn’t fund it, Daszak may have had the ability to do the research using an earlier grant from the National Institutes of Health:17

“A progress report18 for that NIH grant for the year ending in May 2018 shows that the Wuhan Institute of Virology and EcoHealth Alliance conducted gain-of-function research on coronaviruses and tested them in mice engineered to express human receptors.”

The NIH research grant in question, called “Understanding the Risk of Bat Coronavirus Emergence,” was originally awarded in 2014. In 2019, it was renewed until 2026, but was temporarily suspended between April and July 2020, due to EcoHealth’s ties to the WIV.

Four days after the grant was suspended, Daszak wrote an email stating his “plan is to continue this work, unfunded for now ...”19 As noted by USRTK, “His email ... seems to contrast with his public statements that work on the grant came to a halt without funding.” Could the same be true for the DEFUSE experiments?

“The contrast between Daszak’s email and public statements about unfunded work raises questions about his statements on a second controversial EcoHealth grant proposal that had the potential to lead to the existence of SARS-CoV-2,” Kopp writes.20

“This second proposal, called DEFUSE, was never funded. It was submitted to the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, and proposed adding something called a cleavage site to the spike proteins of SARS-related coronaviruses. SARS-CoV-2 has a furin cleavage site in its spike protein, but no other viruses closely related to it have this site.

The WIV was a partner on the proposal. Though DEFUSE was rejected, similarities between the proposed research and SARS-CoV-2 generated speculation on whether any of the planned work had been carried out.

When asked, Daszak responded, ‘… we would not be doing that research before we submit the proposal. That’s not how it works.’ According to Richard Ebright, a professor of chemistry and chemical biology at Rutgers University, investigators do often perform research before submitting their grant proposals.

‘In the molecular life sciences, it is the norm to begin, and often make substantial progress on, new lines of research before seeking and obtaining funding for the research,’ said Ebright.

‘It would be unusual for a research group with multiple current lines of funding not to have started a new line of research before obtaining funding for it, and it would be almost unheard of for a group with multiple current lines of support not to proceed with a new line of research simply because an application for an additional line of funding application was not approved.’”

Colossal Misdirection

In a December 2023 interview21 with investigative journalist Paul Thacker, Dr. Robert Kadlec — who has worked to counter the proliferation of biological weapons for more than 30 years, and helped write much of the U.S. biodefense legislation — confirmed what now seems obvious.

Namely that federally funded scientists have engaged in a “colossal misdirection” to hide evidence showing the pandemic began in a Wuhan lab funded by American tax dollars. As for their motive, he believes it’s to protect reputations and the access to federal grant money.

Aside from Daszak and Baric, other individuals who appear to have played central roles in this misdirection include22 Scripps researcher Kristian Andersen, who in a February 1, 2020, email to Dr. Anthony Fauci stated that “some of the features” of SARS-CoV-2 “look engineered,” and that he and three other researchers all found “the genome inconsistent with expectations from evolutionary theory.”

Shortly thereafter, he published an article in Nature Medicine refuting the idea that the virus might be manmade. Similarly, Fauci in a February 1, 2020, email to Dr. Francis Collins and several others noted there were mutations in the virus that were unlikely to have evolved naturally in bats, and that the experts he’d been in contact with suspected the mutation may have been “intentionally inserted.”

Publicly, however, Fauci dismissed the lab leak theory as unfounded conspiracy theory. Within weeks, several other virologists who echoed Andersen’s concerns also mysteriously ended up putting their names to papers refuting the lab leak theory.

That included virologist Eddie Holmes, who also happens to have been a guest professor at the Chinese Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Beijing — a fact he did not disclose and has since deleted from his publicly available CV.

All of these papers are highly suspect. One of them was cosigned by Jeremy Farrar, who put together the February 1 call with Fauci. Another was ghostwritten by Baric and Zhengli,23 and the third paper was pushed through to publication by Fauci and Farrar.

Was the Pandemic a Result of NIH-Funded Research?

“How do we get three papers bubble up into the academic literature, within six weeks, that all come to the complete opposite conclusion of what virologists privately speculated on February 1?” Thacker asks.

“I'd like to know, too,” Kadlec replies. “I wish I could explain that ... Fauci got this other group, with Jeremy Farrar, and his buddies. And this group privately says they have concerns, and then publicly say there's no way a lab accident could happen. That's the chain of events ...

[Fauci] is a real operator, man. I'm not saying that HE misled us, but somehow we went from one story to the other. The cabal seems to be Jeremy Farrar, Francis Collins and Fauci. They seem to be the center of what was going on.

Then you have these researchers, Kristian Anderson, Robert Garry and the others being included. Mike Worobey wasn't part of these conversations, but he became a public mouthpiece for a lot of this. I'm very suspect of what happened. As much as you would like to think Fauci is behind this, I think Collins may be the guy ...

I think what was driven here was reputational risk to NIH and to the two people that both advocated — Fauci and Collins — for unfettered, scientific research, meaning gain-of-function research. NIH funded gain-of-function research may have resulted in this accident ...

[Y]ou can't make a cogent, convincing argument that it came naturally from an animal. What they were trying to do is make the argument that it’s zoonotic, and there's no evidence to support that ...

It looks like an information operation to me. That's ... how I view this. Misdirection. It's like denial and deception ... The motivation seems to be obvious, right? It’s reputational risk and institutional risk to these funders.”

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rawliverandgoronspice · 1 year

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◦ Descant of Greatness ◦

(The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time - Mature Audience - Gen, M/F - multi chapter - Part 2 of Unhallowed Vespers)

...

“I don’t fault you, Ganondorf.” Her eyes are crimson.The last seven years dried them of any tear worth holding onto, cleansed by the rain on the rampart of a kingdom that loathed them so. “Do you believe transcending godhood can save you from what you have started?"

All this stolen Power, and he still cannot stump the fear. “I have to try."

(read Chapter 1 on Ao3)

...

Finally, I'm kind of ready to start posting this fic!!

It was never meant to become such a huge thing, since I was just hoping to get the Zelda fever out of my system and handle some of the remaining frustrations about everything I couldn't touch upon in Litany of Betrayal, which is Part 1 of that series I called (after an INSANE amount of debate and hair pulling) Unhallowed Vespers.

This story is a non-linear character study of Ganondorf from OoT, with a healthy dose of liberties taken and choices made, that tries to get at the heart of why I think this character is so gosh darn interesting --but veers closer to dark fantasy than the original material even does, given, well, the kind of protagonist we have on our hands. It's a love letter that got kind of super long RIP to me being all like "yeah it's just going to be a couple of vignettes nothing crazy uwu" lol, look at you now with your 6k chapters you predictible fool

The story is a lot about legitimacy, culture, legacy and, of course, ambition and justice in the face of the divine. It's a tragedy, with a dash of existential horror that took me by surprise. It gave me an excuse to think a lot about gerudo culture!! I FINALLY wrote a scene about Ganondorf's coronation, which I've been wanting to have an excuse to do since I was like 14 years old!! There's a romance in there, though it is uhhh a little toxic because, again *gestures towards the protagonist involved*. People who are familiar with my writing will be very pleased (??) to know that this is the usual bullshit, and that I was bound to put politics in my Zelda if left unsupervised for too long. :(((

It's not 100% done yet so I don't have a set schedule of release, but it's about 75% done! I'll try to push the chapters out pretty fast (though it probably won't be fully released before TOTK :( the lore will come for me running and I'm s c a r e d)

#tloz #ganondorf #oot #ocarina of time #the legend of zelda #fanfiction #my writing #my art #impa #gerudo #gerudos #descant of greatness #unhallowed vespers

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kandisheek · 2 months

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FIC REC WEEK 14 – AUTHOR WEEK

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: Cluegirl

I love all of Cluegirl's voices for the Avengers – they're so funny, and the team family vibes just warm my heart. Cluegirl's writing is fantastic, and if you haven't already, you should go and read their entire AO3 catalogue, because everything in it is great!

Here's some of their work that I think you should check out:

Gladhand

Pairing: Gen Rating: G Words: 1,260 Tags: Injury, Team Feelings, Action

Summary: Steve Rogers has work to get done, and staying down is not on the schedule. The rest of the Avengers are not on board with that plan.

Reasons why I love it: Tony the Italian Grandma is hilarious, oh my god. I love how the team immediately swoops in to save Steve after he makes his blunder, the way they care for each other is so sweet. And Steve toughing shit out is as frustrating as it is admirable, which feels like it should be a tag line for his character. I love this fic, and I bet you will too!

Tea and No Sympathy

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 1,286 Tags: PWP, Masochist Tony, Misuse of Yoga

Summary: Tony needs to pass Gym class. Steve needs not to wring his neck while coaching his strength training. This is their compromise.

Reasons why I love it: I wouldn't wish having to work out with Steve on anyone, holy shit. Then again, the view might make the pain worth it. I love this one, it's sassy and fun and a perfect little pick-me-up. Give it a read if you haven't already!

Operation Extraction

Pairing: Gen Rating: G Words: 2,117 Tags: Humor, Team Loyalty, Morphine

Summary: Far be it from Tony Stark to educate SHIELD Medical on any particular details, but it just so happened that it was totally possible to make a stable boot cast out of common office supplies.

Reasons why I love it: Tony is so funny in this, holy shit. I could read the way Cluegirl writes him all day. And the rest of the Avengers nonchalantly foiling his plans is hilarious. I adore this fic, and I bet you will too, so I hope you give it a shot!

Stony Going

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 6,070 Tags: Sassy Steve, Clint's A Troll, Smut

Summary: Steve Rogers makes an awkward discovery on the internet. This does not work out at all the way Tony Stark expects it will.

Reasons why I love it: Three cheers for breaking the fourth wall with some good ol' fanfic-ception. I love Steve being more experienced than anyone thinks, and that bit about critiquing someone's fanworks made me nod along. Preach, girl, preach! This fic is amazing, and you should definitely read it!

Detour

Pairing: Steve/Bucky/Tony Rating: G Words: 2,447 Tags: Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Recovery, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: A weak man knows the value of strength. A guilty man knows the value of forgiveness. Steve finds Bucky dredging the shadows of his past late one night, and rattling the bones of long-dead ghosts while Tony sleeps, unawares. But this time the terrible confession Bucky has to make isn't the one he's been braced to hear -- it's actually worse.

Reasons why I love it: Oh my god, I love this so much. Those last few sentences really tear at my heartstrings – one quote specifically, you'll know it when you see it. Because you SHOULD see it, please go and do that right now if you haven't. I bet you'll love this story just as much as I do.

#marvel #stony #stuckony #fanfic #fic rec #ficrec #fanfic rec #a year in fanfic recs

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sergeantsporks · 1 month

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Gilded Family

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Ch 38.5/39: Closure

Ao3

“You’ve been putting weight on this fracture.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re going to stop doing that.”

“Got it.”

The healer—Phoenix hadn’t caught their name—shook their head. “I mean it. It won’t heal, and you could make it worse—it looks like you broke it two different ways and then used a slitherbeast’s bite to wrench it back into place.”

Phoenix winced. That would be the Collector’s attempt to ‘fix’ the break. “Sorry.”

“And—look, this may be none of my business, but there’s a weird block-up of excess magic in your arms; you might want to consider seeing a specialist. And an apothecary.”

“Yep. Aware of it. Okay. Thanks.”

The healer picked up the remains of Viney’s cast, examining the crack from Belos’ kick with a whistle. “What have you been up to?

“Eh. You know. The apocalypse.”

The whole family had made a pact not to mention Belos to anyone outside of the family or Darius for now—as far as anyone else was concerned, Luz had killed Belos, and that was that. Phoenix was almost certain that there would be ‘Belos’ sightings across the isles for some time, and he didn’t intend on adding any credibility to the notion that Belos could have escaped Luz.

“Haven’t we all. Well, nothing life-threatening. You’re cleared. See a healer again in a week for that ankle and to check the concussion, use the crutches, take it easy.”

“Thank you.”

“Mhm. You’re welcome”

Another healer shot into the room, breathing heavily. “You get to do the one next door.”

“What? I thought you were taking care of him?”

“Not anymore. I like living too much.”

“Well, that sounds promising.”

Phoenix followed the healer out of the room, swinging on a new set of crutches. The moment the healer opened the next door, an abomination-themed paperweight came sailing out, nearly beaning them on the head.

“Stay away,” Petro wheezed, “I’ll kill you.”

“They’re here to help,” Phoenix told him, “They’re not going to hurt you.”

“Like I trust you either.”

“Friendly, isn’t he?” the healer commented dryly.

“Very. Petro, I didn’t drag you all the way here just to kill you now. They’re just a healer.”

“Coven healer?”

“Does it matter anymore?”

“It matters,” Petro wheezed through gritted teeth, “because which they are determines whether or not they might have motive to kill me.” He thought about it for a moment. “I’m not sure which kind would be more likely.”

“I don’t even know who you are?” The healer pushed into the room, holding their hands up in surrender. “Look. You’re in bad shape. I can either heal you now, while you’re conscious and can keep an eye on me, or I can wait until you pass out anyway and you won’t have any knowledge of what I’m up to. So which is it going to be?”

Petro glared, but didn’t throw anything else and let the healer get close enough to begin their magic. Phoenix heaved a sigh of relief and wandered back down the hall. Darius poked halfway out of a closet, pulling out blankets and towels, but he straightened up when Phoenix approached.

“Ah. Hello. I see the healers got to you.”

“They did.”

“How are you feeling? It seems like you look worse every time I see you.”

Phoenix shrugged. “I’ll survive. Look, Darius—I owe you an explanation. Besides disappearing on you, about what just happened—”

“Well—perhaps it can wait until tomorrow morning. I’m sure you need your rest, and we should get your quite extensive family settled in, of course, and—”

“Darius, are you avoiding me?”

Darius chuckled nervously. “What? Of course I’m not. I haven’t been looking for answers for thirty years just to avoid them now.”

“Are you sure?” Phoenix pressed, “I mean, you didn’t seem too concerned when I ran off after Jason—”

“You seemed distressed, I didn’t want to keep you in such a state—”

“—and now you won’t let me tell you what happened again,” Phoenix continued over him, “Are you avoiding me?”

Darius had always been bad at lying to him. A stellar actor most of the time, but absolutely horrendous when it came to fooling Phoenix. That was one thing that hadn’t changed over the years. It almost made Phoenix laugh—a grown man now twenty years his senior studiously avoiding his eyes like he was still a teenager.

“I’m not avoiding you. But are you sure you’re ready to tell me?”

“I’ve only been thinking of a way to do it for…” Phoenix tried to tally up how long it had been since he’d woken up in this time, then gave up. “…a while. Darius, I know you’re not avoiding it for my sake."

"I just think right now isn’t a good time.” Darius finished pulling blankets out of the closet and shut the door abruptly. “Tomorrow.”

“And what if something new comes up tomorrow? Darius, I’ve put this off for so long, I want to—”

“If you’ve been putting it off for so long, then it can wait another day. Hunter—” Darius locked up, inhaled, and released his breath in one long sigh. “Phoenix. Can we just leave it?”

“Are you scared it won’t be good enough?”

The words escaped Phoenix before he could really think it through, and the simple question made Darius freeze again.

“Excuse me?”

“This whole time—Darius, I’ve been worried that any apology, any explanation I could give wouldn’t be good enough. I was scared that you’d hear what I had to say and decide it wasn’t any excuse for not contacting you. That you’d hate me for it. But that… it works both ways, doesn’t it?” Phoenix took a deep breath. “You’ve spent years wondering where I’d gone, wondering what happened to me. And now I’ve showed up again out of the blue. Are you… are you scared that when I tell you what happened… it’ll feel like I just didn’t care enough? That it will feel like there was no real reason for me to not contact you, and I just didn’t want to?”

Darius chuckled hollowly. “Well, what am I supposed to say to that, hm?” He shook his head. “You’ve changed, Phoenix. The name, the scars—that’s nothing. There was a time when you would have had your tongue ripped out before you’d disclose all that to me; the Phoenix I knew took a day of coaxing before he’d ever begin admit something was wrong. But then—I guess you weren’t really Phoenix then, were you?”

“No,” Phoenix agreed, “I wasn’t.”

“What if we’ve changed too much?” Darius gave Phoenix a small, sad half-smile. “That explanation might be the only thing left between us—the last thing we say to each other before we find closure and move on in our new lives. Perhaps it’ll be good enough. Perhaps it won’t. Perhaps it won’t matter how good or bad it is because either way, we’ll simply drift apart.”

Dread settled in Phoenix’s stomach. Of course that was always a possibility—but it wasn’t one he wanted to accept. “Maybe.” Phoenix searched for the right words to say, allowing a heavy silence to creep between them. “Maybe,” he said again finally, “You’re right. That might happen. But even if it does, even if we drift apart… Darius, I will never stop caring about you. And I don’t think you’ll stop caring about me, either.”

“Never.” Darius took a deep breath. “I’m ready,” he said abruptly, “I want to know—and I want to know all of it.”

“To the last thing left unfinished between us,” Phoenix agreed. He cleared his throat, trying to decide the best place to begin. “When I disappeared—well, it actually started weeks before, when I found some old records concerning the fates of previous golden guards…”

Xxx

You were always going to fail them, too.

Phoenix snapped awake, the vestiges of a fuzzy nightmare still making his heart work overtime. He stared up at the ceiling, surrounded by the snores of other grimwalkers. It was just a dream.

He tried to rub his eyes, but his arms wouldn’t move, dissolved into a mess of mud that would stain the blankets if he let it.

“It’s okay,” he whispered to the darkness, “We’re okay.”

In time with his slowing heartbeat, his arms settled back to their normal state, and he rolled out of his blankets, snatching up his crutches and quietly hobbling out into the hallway. His joints ached. His bones felt stretched and thin inside of him.

But at least they were his.

He wandered into the kitchen. Jason sat at the table, staring blankly at his hands, but he looked up when Phoenix dropped into the seat next to him.

“It’s over,” Jason whispered, “It’s really, really over this time.”

“He’s gone,” Phoenix agreed.

Jason trembled and fell into Phoenix, burying his face in Phoenix’s shoulder. “It’s over,” he repeated, “It’s over, it’s over it’s over.”

Phoenix gripped him tightly, holding him close. “We’re safe now. He can’t hurt us anymore.”

“He’s finally gone,” Jason whispered, “We’re finally—he’s finally—it’s over.” He pulled back, eyes shining. “I don’t have to go with him. I don’t have to talk to him again, I don’t have to…”

“Never again, thanks to you and Mole.”

“Well—hey, you were part of it, too.”

Phoenix looked away, guilt bubbling up in his stomach. “I didn’t do anything.” His hands curled into shaking fists. “I tried. I really did, but I couldn’t beat him. He still got the better of me. After everything—the curse, getting out of his hold… I was still useless.”

“You saved Hunter’s life,” Jason said quietly, “I don’t think that’s useless.”

“I couldn’t stop him.” Phoenix’s hands opened and closed helplessly. “I was so close, Jason, but I still couldn’t…”

“Hey.” Jason tilted his head, ducking down so that he was looking Phoenix in the eye. “You fought fair. Belos didn’t—that kick was a dirty move. You would have won in a straight fight.”

“It was never going to be a straightforward fight with Belos,” Phoenix replied bitterly, “I should have known that. I shouldn’t have tried to fight like it would be.”

“What, and stoop to his level? I’m glad you didn’t.” Jason’s hand closed over his own. “Phoenix. Hey. Mole and I wouldn’t have been able to get into position without your attack. Hunter kept everyone from getting hurt when the glyphs stopped working. The others made sure Belos didn’t possess Petro again so you could face him head on. And without Petro, we wouldn’t have been able to trick Belos and get Mom and everybody free. This only worked because we all played a part—so what if you didn’t beat him all on your own? Neither did any of the others, and they attacked him all at once with a bunch of glyphs! I mean, hey, you went after Belos all by yourself, and you made it out with nothing but a concussion? Pretty good considering the results of our past attempts.”

A smile worked its way onto Phoenix’s face, disappearing just as quickly. “I guess.”

“He can’t hurt us again. That’s all that really matters—we don’t need to worry about who did what, or who helped the most.”

“I know, I know,” Phoenix grumbled, “You’re right.”

“Of course I am. I’m always right.” Jason gave him a cheeky grin. “Forget about him. He ruled enough of our lives—I don’t want to think about him a second longer than I have to. How did things go with Darius?”

And just like that, any sense of calm Jason’s reassurances had brought melted right back into a seething pit of anxiety. “Fine, I think? I mean… he seemed to understand what happened and why I couldn’t get back in touch with him.”

“But?” Jason prompted.

“But…” Phoenix took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Do you think he’s angry I didn’t tell him when Belos surfaced again? I mean, I’d just promised to tell him everything, and then I hid an incredibly big and dangerous thing—even though I had a reason, that’s got to sting. I’d be mad at me.”

“You could always ask,” Jason suggested, “Can’t hurt.”

“Hm.” Maybe, but if what Darius had said earlier—about how Phoenix had used to keep everything close to his chest, hiding it from Darius—had been true then, the opposite was true now. Phoenix was almost certain that if he did ask, Darius would just wave off the question.

“Is that all that’s eating you?”

“Well, that and the flesh-dissolving mud curse.”

Jason chuckled. “Right. That. Should you be up and around? Sam told me you should rest more.”

“That traitor.”

Jason pushed his shoulder. “You should say thank you. Now there’s one more person who knows what you need.”

“You need to not be in my kitchen at one AM, that’s for certain.”

Phoenix jumped, nearly falling out of his chair. Darius stood in the doorway, arms crossed. Even in the dim lighting, Phoenix could see the bloodshot red of his eyes. “Sorry. Did we wake you?” And how much did you hear?

Darius shrugged, an easy, fluid movement that didn’t quite seem to match that look in his eyes. “I was checking in, making sure Evelyn and Caleb were alright, and everyone was settled alright, and… you were gone.”

A hint of accusation laced his tone, and Phoenix flinched. “Sorry,” he said again, “I just… couldn’t sleep. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He wiggled his hands in the air. “Still here! Haven’t vanished off the face of the earth again!”

Jason winced, and made a small ‘whoof’ noise next to him while Darius’ smile got a little more forced. Phoenix’s hands dropped to his lap. “Sorry. Too soon.”

“A bit so, yes. Do you need something to aid your sleep? A potion, perhaps, or—”

“I’m alright, Darius. Thank you.”

Before his disappearance, it had been easy to fall into silence with Darius. Once there was nothing left to say, they’d just share a comfortable, nearby existence. But now, the quiet loomed between them, painfully, awkwardly huge.

Jason cleared his throat. “Well, I’m gonna go check on Mom and Dad and then go back to bed. See you in the morning.” He patted Phoenix’s shoulder and disappeared, along with any hope Phoenix might have had that Jason would know the right thing to say to Darius.

“So. The curse.” Darius waved a hand in the air. “You said it drains energy, drains magic… so does Edalyn’s. You could try her elixirs. See if it works out for you.”

Nothing Phoenix hadn’t thought of, but the suggestion coming from someone else did somehow make it feel more plausible. “Yeah. Yeah, that might work.”

“And if the elixirs help…” Darius took a deep breath. “It doesn’t seem all too different from my abomination magic, at least not in general form. I could… give you some tips on controlling it.”

Phoenix turned the idea over in his mind, a laugh building in the back of his throat, and bursting out uncontrollably. Darius blinked slowly, managing to look exactly like an offended cat.

“You could have just said no if you think it’s that ridiculous.”

“No—no, it’s not that, I just… well, you know. I used to be the one teaching you magic. I know things have changed between us, but I wasn’t expecting a complete reversal.”

Darius chuckled. “It is a bit strange when you put it like that.” He braced one elbow on the tabletop, resting his face on his hand. “Now I’m the teacher. I’m sentencing you to ten years of dish-washing for running off to fight Belos without me.”

“Which time?”

“Oh. Yes, I suppose you did do it more than once. Twenty years, then.”

Phoenix snorted. “In your dreams.” He leaned his elbows on the table to match Darius, rubbing his aching joints. “I’d like that, though.”

“What, washing the dishes?”

“No, no. For you to teach me how to work with this, make it into something helpful. And to just… spend time together exploring new magic like we used to.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d like it a lot.”

Xxx

“Hunter! Jason!”

Luz cannoned into the two of them at the speed of light, closely followed by Willow and Gus. Phoenix laughed watching the two of them go down, but then King slammed into his legs, Collector flew into his chest, and he stared at the ceiling of Darius’ house, half wondering how he’d gotten on the floor.

“Phoenix!”

“Oof. Oh, we brought everyone. Hey!”

“Everyone but Eda and Raine,” King remarked, suggestively wiggling the bony arches that Phoenix was pretty sure passed for eyebrows up and down.

“And Camila,” Collector added helpfully.

Grimwalkers shuffled away from Collector, eying them nervously. Cherry’s hands twitched, like he might like to yank them away from Phoenix, and Darius’ eyes narrowed into little slits, his hand turning into an abomination knife.

Phoenix waved one hand at him. “It’s okay! They’re good, it’s fine.”

The others didn’t exactly crowd around to meet him, but they didn’t protest the Collector being there either. Luz pulled back from her attack on Hunter and Jason, eyes brimming with concern. “I am so, so, so, so, so, so sorry! I thought we finished him off, I thought—”

“Hey, whoa, it’s not your fault!” Jason protested, “You did amazing.”

“You were a puppet,” Hunter reminded him, “You missed the whole thing. But yeah, Luz. Don’t blame yourself. He’s… really good at squeezing out of tricky situations. You took a lot out of him—and whether you killed him or not, you definitely saved the isles from him.”

“He’s actually dead this time, right?” King asked Phoenix, “We’re sure?”

“Positive,” Phoenix confirmed, “Mole petrified him.”

“Good.” King nudged Collector. “Hey—remember—”

“I remember.” Collector floated up into the air, clearing his throat. “Hey, everybody. I’m Collector. I know I sort of… scared you before, but I’m really, really sorry for destroying your house. I can fix it, if you want? And… I’d like to be friends. No more house-destroying or puppeting. Pinky promise.”

For a long moment, no one said anything, just glanced at each other and the Collector. Finally, A.T. stepped forward, linking his pinky with Collector’s. “Hey, Collector. I’m A.T. and probably the expert around here on having friends. Everyone else seems to lack the experience.”

Protests and boos rose out of other grimwalkers, breaking the tense silence. A.T. just grinned, unfazed by their jeers. “We’re gonna get along great.”

Phoenix sighed in relief. He doubted anyone would actually be comfortable around Collector, not for a while. But at least open hostility had been cleared off the table.

“What’s going on in here?”

Everyone’s head snapped to the other side of the room, the Collector completely forgotten as Caleb made his way from the hallway, one hand on the wall for support. His face still hadn’t regained all its color, and he leaned heavily on the wall, but his smile was still the same big beam it had always been.

“Dad!”

Like a tidal wave, every grimwalker in the room shifted towards him at once, all of them babbling over with a thousand ‘are you alright’s and ‘you scared us’s. Cherry, ever the solid rock, got to him first, anxiously hovering inches away.

“You shouldn’t have tried to trade yourself for us,” he told Caleb.

A hush fell over the grimwalkers. Phoenix felt queasy, even knowing that Caleb would hear them out without losing his temper. It needed to be said. But part of him was glad Cherry was the one saying it.

“I couldn’t lose you. Any of you.”

“You almost lost all of us,” Cherry countered, “Offering to go to the human realm? You would have never seen any of us again! And we would have lost you!”

“I mean, I can make a portal to the human realm,” Collector announced chipperly, “You could have found each other again.”

King drew one paw back and forth across his throat, and the Collector made a small ‘ah’ noise, miming zipping up their lips.

“I just wanted to protect you.”

“You did something dumb and self-sacrificial,” Sam piped up, “If any of us had offered that trade, we’d get a nice long talk about how our lives have value on their own and we shouldn’t give up everything like that. You’d tell us there’s always another way.”

“I mean, Jason did try it,” Venari offered, “You’re okay with that?”

Caleb’s attention snapped over to him. “You did what?”

“This is what they’re talking about, Dad,” Jason said, fondly exasperated, “Your life isn’t worth any less than ours. You think we should live our lives free of Belos?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then the same should be true for you.”

A.T. nodded fiercely. “We’re not the only ones he hurt—you shouldn’t be stuck with him any more than we or anyone else should.”

“But I’m the one who—”

“You made mistakes,” Cherry cut in, “No one is denying that. You were unconscious, but Jason told Belos he needed to stop punishing you for what happened. And Belos isn’t the only one; you have to stop punishing yourself.” He twisted his hands. “It’s something we all have to work on.”

Silver raised a hand. “We would have been devastated if he’d taken you,” they told Caleb, “Please—don’t do something like that again.”

Caleb’s eyes welled up. “Okay,” he mumbled thickly, “Okay, I promise.” His hand hovered over his chest where bandages bulged against his shirt. “Is… are you all okay? I mean, that spell, the wound—”

Dagger waved a hand. “Sure, it hurt, but you think we can’t handle it?”

“Losing you and Mom would have hurt worse,” Jason told him. “Speaking of Mom…”

“Alive and well,” Evelyn commented from the kitchen. She waved from the table. “Hey. I went the other way ‘round.” She jabbed one finger at Caleb. “They’re right, by the way, mister. Pull a stunt like that again, and I’ll… well, I don’t have a good threat ready at the moment, but you won’t like it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” One of Caleb’s eyebrows arched up. “Although I seem to recall someone else going off alone to make deals with Phillip.”

“I was going on a rescue mission that I was pretty sure I could handle and turned out to be wrong about,” she corrected, “Not the same thing. But fine, of course, next time our kids get kidnapped by someone who has it out for specifically us and I track them down to their lair, I’ll come get you. Happy?”

Caleb smiled at her, a small, sad imitation of his usual smile. “Ecstatic.” He turned towards the Collector. “I’m—”

“The original! The first Caleb! Wow, Phillip would not stop talking about you.” Collector hopped up into the air, sitting cross-legged. “I almost feel like I know you, even though we’ve never met. Isn’t that weird?”

Caleb winced. “Well… I don’t know what stories Phillip told you, but I think I’d like it if you knew the real me. And… I’d like to know the real you. But, um. Before we get to know each other… does your offer of a portal door still stand?”

Xxx

“Oh, absolutely not.”

Phoenix looked up from the pile of books Jason had rescued from the rubble of the house—he, Mole, Joseph, and Cherry had been going back and forth between their destroyed home and Darius’ house, ferrying mostly-intact personal belongings to their owners. Phoenix had stayed behind where he could sit (at just about everyone’s insistence), sorting through what they’d brought and picking out what was still salvageable. But at Evelyn’s snappish tone, he wobbled to his feet and swung his way to the kitchen. Caleb stood with Collector and Petro, holding a bag that looked suspiciously like it was filled with crumbled pieces of stone.

Evelyn stood in the doorway, blocking their path. Brave of her, Phoenix thought vaguely, considering how Collector had flicked her shields aside like they were nothing last time. “You can’t be serious. After everything he did?”

“I’m not doing it for Belos,” Caleb said quietly, “I’m doing it for me. And for him.”

Caleb nodded to Petro behind him, uncharacteristically quiet and melancholy. Half-healed bruises and cuts still mottled his face, but his breathing came normally now instead of in those awful shudders. The moment he noticed Phoenix looking at him, he scowled, glaring daggers.

Evelyn crossed her arms. “He doesn’t deserve the kindness. He would have desecrated your grave a thousand times to make more grimwalkers.”

“But I’m not him. I need to bury what’s left, Evelyn—I’m not going to feel at peace until I do. Please.”

Evelyn sighed. “Are you really going to take him to the human realm?”

“Do you think anyone wants what’s left of him here?”

“I suppose not,” Evelyn admitted.

“You don’t have to come with me, Evelyn. In fact, I think it would probably just upset you. Just let me do this, okay?”

“Alright. Alright, but be careful.” She tilted her head at Petro, lowering her voice. “Do you actually trust him?”

“No,” Caleb said simply, “Not yet. But I don’t think he’ll try anything for now.”

Evelyn ‘hm’ed unhappily, but moved out of the way. The three walked—or floated, in Collector’s case—out the door, heading to the outskirts of Bonesborough. After a moment of hesitation, Phoenix followed. Maybe Caleb thought everything would be fine, but Phoenix was almost certain something would go wrong. He wasn’t willing to leave it to chance, especially after what everyone had said this morning.

Phoenix quickly fell behind—even with the injuries Petro and Caleb had sustained, they still walked faster than he could hobble on his crutches. After about twenty agonizing minutes, Collector swooped through the sky over him.

“Hiya, Phoenix,” they chirped, “Did you want to come along? Caleb and Hunter already made it to the human realm, but I can catch you up real fast.”

“Yes, please,” Phoenix panted. A star formed underneath him, and Collector sat next to him. They stayed low to the ground, but the star moved quickly, zipping through the streets of Bonesborough.

Collector fidgeted, tapping his fingers against each other. “Are we going to be okay?” they finally asked in a small voice.

“What?”

“You’re not still—are you mad at me?”

Phoenix hissed out a long breath. “Are you still mad at me?”

“I don’t know.” Collector rested his chin on his knees. “Were you going to take King away forever?”

“I think I was.” Phoenix heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. And I’m sorry for trying to make you disappear. And for destroying your house. And—” Their voice wobbled, and tears welled up in their eyes. “And putting you in the nightmare. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“I don’t want to, either.” Phoenix scratched absently at his arms where the wounds from Belos used to be. “I don’t think I ever did. I was just… scared.”

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

“I was going to come back the first time. I really was. I mean—I was going to take King, but I would have come back.”

“I believe you now.”

Phoenix took a deep breath. “We both hurt each other. And I can’t promise that we won’t accidentally hurt each other again.”

“So… you’re saying we shouldn’t be friends?”

“No! No, it’s just a risk we have to take. You can’t be friends with people without… opening up the possibility of getting hurt. But that’s okay. And I think we’re going to be okay.”

“Okay.” Collector pulled the star to a stop in front of the owl house. “I hope so.”

“I know so.” Phoenix hopped off the star. “I’ll be back soon.”

The door shimmered in front of him, a wall of light too bright to look past into the other realm.

The human realm.

Phoenix slowly swung over the threshold. It didn’t feel any different to be in the human realm. He’d assumed he’d be able to tell when he crossed over, like all the magic would be sucked out of the world, but it just seemed… normal here. The house that held the door was a bit dilapidated, sure, and a recent-looking hole gaped in the floorboards, but nothing seemed terribly wrong with the place. He could easily imagine Jason curled up on that old couch reading, or Hunter pacing the floor.

Low murmurs rose up from beneath him, and Phoenix slowly thumped down a creaky staircase. Each step involved a lengthy back-and-forth with his crutches, but he made it to the bottom, where Petro and Caleb stood in front of a gaping hole in the ground. They slowly lowered what was left of Belos into the grave and covered the stone back up with dirt. Phoenix hobbled closer, but stayed far enough back that he wouldn’t be intruding.

“Would you… like to say something?” Caleb asked Petro.

Petro gave a short nod. “Bye, old man,” he said abruptly, “You gave me the best parts of my life, and I’ll never forget everything you did for me. Rot in hell. I’ll probably meet you there.” He gave the grave a snappy salute, then spit on it and stepped back.

“That was… nice?”

Petro acknowledged Caleb’s statement with a curt nod. “Your turn.”

Caleb took a deep breath. “I guess this is it,” he said slowly, “I wish we could have done something different—but I’m glad I landed where I did. I’m going to do better. With the grimwalkers you made, I mean. I won’t run away this time. No matter what, I’ll stick with them, and make sure they never feel abandoned and alone again.” He sighed. “I know Belos probably wouldn’t care. But… I hope whatever’s left of the lonely kid who was scared of me leaving would like that. Goodbye, Pip. I won’t forget you.” He glanced up, noticing Phoenix for the first time. “Oh! Did you come to…”

“I came to check on you.” Phoenix shrugged. “I don’t have anything to say.”

“No, I wouldn’t think so.” Caleb heaved a deep sigh. “Is it wrong that I don’t feel sad?”

“Why did you bury him at all, then?”

Caleb shook his head. “I don’t know. It just didn’t feel right, leaving him there. I know he did a lot wrong, but... I wanted to bring him back home.” He chuckled dryly. “I guess he got what he wanted in the end, didn’t he? Me and him, back in the human realm.”

“That wasn’t all he wanted,” Phoenix said softly, “You know that.”

“Yeah. I do. It’s just…”

“Complicated?”

“Always is.” Caleb bounced on the balls of his feet, staring up at the low ceiling. “Could you give me a minute?”

“Yeah.” Phoenix looked around, but Petro was nowhere in sight—Phoenix swore under his breath and hopped back towards the stairs, tucking his crutches under his arm and leaning against the wall for balance instead while he made his way up. The door to the house swung wide open, and Phoenix hobbled outdoors. There would be no catching up with Petro if he’d run, he knew, but the glint of ruined gold armor shone from down the path, at the edge of the trees.

Petro stood just within the treeline, watching the human realm with hungry, cautious eyes. Phoenix stopped short next to him, huffing for breath.

“Thinking of running?” he asked.

Petro snorted. “Think you could stop me?”

“Probably not,” Phoenix admitted, “Hey—Caleb trusted you wouldn’t try anything.”

“If I was ‘trying anything’ you and Caleb would be joining the emperor in his grave. This isn’t ‘trying anything.’ This is just leaving.”

“Leaving?” Phoenix echoed, “Why?”

“Why would I stay?” Petro countered, “There’s nothing left in the Isles for me. I’ve done enough damage there, I think.”

“You don’t have to go,” Phoenix said quietly, “You could try to fix things, make up for what you’ve done. That’s what I’m doing.”

“We’ve already established that you’re a better person than me, little bird. Besides, I can’t stay. No one there trusts me, and if they did, they’d have to be brain-dead.” A wry smile pulled across his face. “It’s like Cherry said, isn’t it? You’re glad I’m changing, but that doesn’t mean you want me around while I do. The Isles are too small, and too full of people who know me. Here?” He swept one arm out. “It’s huge here. I could walk for miles and not leave this city. It’s the kind of place I can change—if I want to. I could get far away from everything, truly far away.”

“You can’t get away from yourself.”

Petro looked around, feigning surprise. “No, really? And here I thought that I would just leave my skin behind and walk on a new man who’s never done anything wrong in his life!”

“You know what I mean.”

“Look, are you going to try to stop me, or what? Because if you do…”

“You’ll kill me? I thought you were planning that anyway.”

Petro snorted. “Maybe I’ll take a visit to the Isles in a few years to give it another shot.”

Phoenix reached into his pocket, his hand closing around the extra concealment stone he’d taken for Ash what seemed like a lifetime ago. “Here.” He held out the stone. “This will help you blend in here, keep people from asking too many questions.”

Petro eyed the necklace. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” Phoenix nodded to the stone. “I think you’re right. I think if you’re going to change, you need to leave the demon realm, at least for a little bit. Get some distance from everything.” He stared Petro in the eye. “If you aren’t going to cause havoc here. I mean it, don’t hurt anyone.”

“I have no reason to. No one’s going to get hurt—I’m not trying to run an empire here, sheesh.” Petro held out an open palm. “Am I getting the stone and starting over or not?”

Phoenix slowly lowered it into his hand. “This doesn’t make everything you did okay, you know that, right? But… maybe here you can become the kind of person who makes up for it.”

“Hm. Maybe. We’ll see how it goes.” Petro’s hand closed over the pendant, but Phoenix didn’t let go of the string just yet.

“Do you remember her? Victoria, I mean.”

Petro blinked. “Who?”

“The girl who stopped you when you tried to kill me. Do you remember her?”

“Ah, so that was her name. Of course I remember her,” Petro said easily, far more easily than Phoenix expected.

“Wha—you do?”

“I remember every kill.” Now Petro was the one staring Phoenix down, uncomfortably level for the topic. “When I tracked down the witches who killed my guardian, they didn’t remember who she was. I swore I’d never be that careless. I knew that if someone came to me, like you are now, and asked if I remembered who I killed, I would be able to say yes. Even if I was adding them to the list, they should know I’d remember.”

If it weren’t for the prerequisite of killing someone, the statement almost would have sounded… noble. Phoenix let go of the string, and Petro slipped the stone over his head. He rippled, shifting and changing. His ears rounded out, and his armor turned into a T-shirt and jeans. He still looked like Petro—the scars didn’t disappear, nor did the dangerous glint in his eyes. But something about him almost seemed... peaceful.

Phoenix stepped back towards the house, towards the demon realm. “Good luck,” he said softly.

Petro gave him a short nod, and stepped out of the trees, into the human realm. Phoenix watched him until he disappeared from view, then slowly hobbled back into the house at the end of the path. Caleb emerged from the basement, looking around. “Where’s Petro?”

“Gone.”

Caleb eyed him. “You don��t seem too concerned about it.”

“I think he’ll be fine. And I don’t think he’ll try killing me again for a while. Give it a few years.”

“Hm.” Caleb glanced down the path, worry creasing his face. Phoenix bumped his shoulder.

“I don’t think he needs the kind of help you and Evelyn can give. He just… needs to be on his own for a bit.”

Caleb sighed. “You knew him best, or at least as best as any of us could.” He closed the door to the house. “You ready to go home?”

“Ready.”

They stepped through the portal together, leaving the human realm, and Belos, behind. Eda and Lilith waited just outside the door, Collector nowhere in sight. Caleb froze, but Eda and Lilith didn’t seem to notice, crowding around Phoenix instead. Eda lightly punched him in the shoulder. “Look who’s back! Darius tells me you’re looking into elixirs, huh? Well, for a good price, I can—”

“We’ll share,” Lilith interrupted, elbowing her sister, “Glad you’re safe, sir.”

“Please don’t call me that, Lilith. Just Phoenix.”

“Right.”

“Ah—hello.” The bard witch from the keep smiled awkwardly at Phoenix. New scars streaked their face like tears, but at least they were still alive. “It’s nice to meet you properly. I’m Raine.”

“Phoenix. Sorry about…” Phoenix gestured to his face. “I wish I could have done something.”

“And I wish I’d been able to keep Belos from taking over the titan, but here we are. Don’t worry about it. Eda tells me you’re the previous golden guard.” They tilted their head at Caleb. “And this is…”

“One of the other ones?” Eda guessed, “Luz told us all about your secret little grimwalker group.”

“Ah. No.” Caleb scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly avoiding their eyes. “I’m… the original one…”

He still hasn’t figured out how to word it, Phoenix thought. For some reason, the familiar stumble made him want to laugh.

Lilith gestured to Caleb’s ears, delighted. “Oh! I see! You must have been here before Belos, that’s fascinating. You’ll have to tell me what the Isles were like—of course, I did see a bit of the Deadwardian Era myself through a time pool, but a first-hand account—and the rest of your family, such a rich depository of history, absolutely incredible.”

Caleb smiled warmly. “I’d be happy to talk with you. Evelyn and I both.”

“Evelyn, hah!” Eda grinned. “What a coincidence, that name’s run in our family for a while!”

“Huh,” Caleb said lightly, “How funny.” He cleared his throat. “It was nice to meet you two—I hope we can get to know each other better.”

He swiftly exited the house before Phoenix could say anything.

“Huh. Bit jumpy, isn’t he?” Eda tossed Phoenix a couple of glowing gold potion bottles that he fumbled to catch with his crutches. “Tell us how that works out, okay? Now that Lilth’s got the basic recipe down, we can mess with it until it’s right for you. Best to down it all at once, by the way. And don’t let it sit in your mouth for longer than you have to. Doesn’t affect the magic or anything, you just want to drink it before you can taste it.”

“You’re not in this alone,” Lilith cut in, “Curses can be tricky, but there are ways to manage them, and they’re easier if you have a support system.”

Phoenix’s chest glowed warmly at the reminder. “I think I’m figuring that out. Thank you.” He raised the elixir bottle like a toast. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“Any idea what you’re going to do now that you don’t have to hide anymore?” Lilith asked.

“I didn’t really think I’d make it this far,” Phoenix admitted, “We’re going to fix up our home, but after that… I’ve got no clue.”

Eda grinned. “Well, I’ve got a little something-something cooking up on the back burner. Now that Belos is gone, and the covens are being dismantled, people are going to need someone to teach them how to be a real wild witch. How’d you like to get in on the teaching action?”

Phoenix flushed. “Oh. I don’t know, I don’t think that would… I’m not exactly… I mean, I wouldn’t even know what a school is supposed to look like, let alone how to be a part of one.”

“That makes you perfect for the job. You think I want a bunch of rule-following book-stuffy teachers at a school for wild magic?” Eda snorted. “As if. No thanks. But from the way Darius was always ‘my mentor’ this and ‘my mentor’ that, I imagine you’re a preeeetty good teacher when you have a mind to be. Or at least a good counselor or something.” She smacked his back. “Think about it, alright? We’ll see if this idea even takes off, but I’ve got a sneaking suspicion it’s going to catch like honeybees on fire.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks, Eda.”

Caleb waited for him outside, but started walking the moment Phoenix closed the door behind him. He kept his pace slow, hanging back with Phoenix’s hobble.

“Why didn’t you let them know they’re your descendants?” Phoenix asked.

Caleb chuckled humorlessly. “Is it hard to believe that I don’t think I’m ready to tell them?”

Phoenix thought about Darius, and a brief smile crossed his face. “No. Not hard to believe at all.”

Xxx

“What do you think, salvageable or no?”

Phoenix considered the ladder Caleb presented for a moment. Compared to most of the wreckage they’d salvaged, this damage didn’t seem too bad. Not that he could even begin to wonder why Caleb had brought back a ladder when they were supposed to be looking for personal belongings. “Well, it seems mostly fine. Top rung is missing, but that… can… be re…”

Phoenix looked up at Caleb, who wore the biggest, smuggest grin he’d ever seen in his life plastered all over his face. “Is this the ladder you fell off of?”

“The one and only.” Caleb collapsed the ladder, sitting next to Phoenix with a sigh. “Titan, that seems like forever ago.”

“A lot happened,” Phoenix agreed, “I wish a few broken ribs and a busted ankle was still the worst injury you had to deal with.”

“Don’t forget the concussion.”

Phoenix waved a hand. “Jason’s had about 3 concussions since the day of unity, clearly they’re not a big deal.”

Phoenix heard an affronted gasp, and looked up to see a distressed Hunter jabbing one finger at him. “Do not say that in front of Jason. Do you know what we went through convincing him that he needed to rest?!”

“Was it worse than what we go through convincing Phoenix to take it easy?” Caleb asked wryly.

Phoenix waved a hand at the ladder. “Pot.”

“Fair enough. Did you need something, Hunter?”

Hunter took a deep breath. “Thank you for repairing Flapjack.” He scratched the bird’s head. “I… really thought I was going to lose him. But he’s okay now, thanks to you. I know… palisman are connected to their witches. If they’re going to heal, then they need to be close.” Another deep breath. “Which is why… I think he should stay with you for a bit. So that he can heal. I know you said he’s mine now, but in terms of magical bonds, I feel like the carver might stand a better chance for medical care, and you know more about repairing palisman anyway, so—”

Flapjack pecked his finger. Caleb smiled. “I don’t think Flap agrees there. And I don’t think that’s what you want, either.”

“Of course not,” Hunter declared immediately, “I want to keep him, I just…” his hands curled into shaking fists. “I don’t know if I’m the best person to take care of him anymore, at least not right now.” His voice cracked. “I hurt him, I—”

“Phillip hurt him,” Caleb said fiercely. He took Hunter’s hands in his own. “Phillip hurt him, not you. And Phillip’s gone now. Maybe I know more about repair than you, but Flapjack didn’t wake up to save my life. He woke up to save yours. I carved Flapjack, but he is your palisman.”

“Don’t you miss him?” Hunter asked, “Don’t you want a palisman? Aren’t you upset he’s not yours anymore?”

Or do you not care about him? The sentiment wasn’t stated, but it ran under the conversation like a riptide current. Caleb stumbled for words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

“Yes,” he said finally, “I do miss him. I loved having a palisman. And if Flapjack wanted to be my palisman again, I’d accept in a heartbeat. But… I couldn’t take him from you. Not if that’s where he wants to be.” Caleb rubbed the stumps of his fingers. “When I carved Flapjack, I wished to choose my own path in life. How could I deny him that same choice?” He heaved a sigh. “No. He’s yours.” A smile crossed his face. “But… I wouldn’t mind a visit from him every now and then. And maybe I could teach you a little bit about palisman repair, eh? My hands can’t hold the carving tools too well anymore, but I’ve still got some tricks left to pass on.”

Hunter smiled back, scratching Flapjack’s head again. “I’d like that.”

Xxx

“Hey! Phoenix!” Novus waved, beckoning him over. Ash stood with him, eying Phoenix nervously, but not retreating.

“So, good news—since a lot of my stuff was metal and small, it more-or-less survived the whole…” he waved a hand. “Yes. Anyway, I was examining those blueprints again, asking around, and I think we were looking at it all the wrong way.”

“Oh?”

“We were trying to figure out how to keep your arms from melting, trying to figure out how to keep it all smushed together. But that’s not the solution at all.”

Novus held up a much smaller, lighter gauntlet. Gauntlet wasn’t even the correct way to describe it—the contraption seemed to be a simple padded skeleton of metal with a joint at the elbow and a strap to pull over Phoenix’s thumb.

“What is it?” Phoenix asked.

“It’s a brace. Simple, easy. Instead of keeping your arms together, it’ll provide joint support for when your arms do melt—that way, there’s less stress on your bones and joints. And there’s plenty of space for your curse to get in and out through the gaps, so you can use it as needed. And look—” He twisted one of the circular bands, and it tightened, shrinking until Phoenix doubted he could fit his arm through without melting them.

“To keep the mud from pulling your bones out of place,” Novus explained, “It’s completely manual, so you don’t have to worry about it going haywire again. If it does get stuck, the whole thing pops open with a bit of pressure. I already tested it on my arm.” He tapped the brace. “It’s mostly for your elbow and wrist, but if you need more, I can work something out for your hands, too. Want to give this part a test?”

Phoenix delicately took one of the braces from him, sliding it over his arm and cinching it snugly into place. He moved his arm back and forth—the joint worked perfectly, bending the brace with almost no resistance. And when he slid his crutches under his shoulder, the strain on his wrist and elbow didn’t seem quite so terrible.

“This is… wow. Novus, thank you, this is incredible!”

“Thank Ash,” he replied with a grin, “They’re the one who gave me the idea to focus on support instead of containment.”

Phoenix blinked in surprise, turning to face the other grimwalker. Ash shrugged. “I could feel your bones shifting around when you saved me on that cliff,” they said quietly, “Like I said—it’s not something you can control or mess around with. So I thought maybe lessening the damage it does to your body might be a better option.”

Phoenix blinked back tears. “Thank you,” he mumbled, “both of you. It’s wonderful.”

Ash shrugged again. “Whatever makes all of… this… easier. I still don’t like…” they gestured broadly at Phoenix’s arms. “…but it seems like it’s helped us more than harmed us, and it’s DEFINITELY not going away any time soon. So… I guess we’ll just learn how to live with it, just like we have for everything else Belos did to us.”

“I guess so.”

Xxx

Phoenix slowly pushed open the door to Darius’ guest room. “Hey, Sam.” He’d missed too many meals in a row—Phoenix barely saw him anymore. Lake and Locke wouldn’t say it plain, but they were worried about him, too.

Sam grunted in response, absent-mindedly tapping a light glyph over and over again. He pushed the paper to the side and drew another one, obsessively checking all the lines, then gingerly poking at it with one finger. Nothing happened.

“It’s really over, isn’t it?” he asked, “They really aren’t going to work again.”

“That’s… how it looks,” Phoenix said gently, “Are you going to be okay?”

Sam heaved a distressed sigh. “These aren’t just a way to do magic without a bile sack. The glyphs are… they’re the language of the titan. The glyphs speak to them, and they respond with a burst of magic. They’re beautiful, they’re conversation. They’re more than just magic to me.”

“Yeah?”

Sam nodded, his eyes fixed on the dormant glyph. “Being with Belos, being the golden guard… it was so lonely. So isolating. I depended on Belos for magic, we all did. But then…” he tapped the glyph again, again with no effect. “But then I found the glyphs. I found what they could do, and I spend so much time studying them. I wrote glyph after glyph and tried combo after combo. And when I used the glyphs… I didn’t feel so alone. The more I used them, the closer I felt to the titan, and that was comforting. Maybe I had to run around in secret with them, maybe using them got me killed, but they were the best part of my life.”

Sam crumbled up the useless paper. “This is probably stupid, but losing them… I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like just losing a hobby. It feels like I’ve lost a friend.” He quickly wiped his eyes. “Like I said, stupid, huh?”

Phoenix thought about King, about all the warmth and personality the tiny titan contained. Maybe Sam hadn’t spoken directly to the titan, the way Phoenix had with King, but if the glyphs were conversation… “No,” he said softly, “I don’t think it’s stupid at all.”

Sam smiled a watery smile. “And what am I supposed to do with my life now, huh? I’ve been studying the glyphs for years, and suddenly…”

“Eda’s looking for teachers,” Phoenix offered, “Maybe you could teach about the glyphs.”

Sam snorted. “Oh, yeah, right, a course about a dead language. Who’d want to take something like that?”

“Nerds like you,” Lake’s voice laughed from the door.

“And us,” Locke added, “I want to know more about the dead language.”

“Tell me about the dead language,” Lake agreed.

Sam’s face creased into a frown, and he opened his mouth, as if about to tell the two of them to quit bothering him, but no sound came out. Phoenix followed his gaze to Lake and Locke. Even though Lake had come in with a joke, there wasn’t a trace of humor behind the two of their faces, only plain earnestness. Sam turned away, but not before Phoenix saw tears start to stream from his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said thickly, “Yeah, okay. I’ll teach you.”

Xxx

“Last one—done.” Viney cut off Dagger’s cast and stepped back. “You’re all set—literally.” She finger-gunned, clicking her tongue. “Little bit of healer humor for you.”

Dagger stretched, wiggling his fingers with a groan. “Finally. I thought those things were never going to come off.” He started to get up, then caught himself. “Ah—thank you.”

Phoenix almost choked at the words, and even Viney looked taken aback for a moment, but she quickly smoothed the expression away. “Eh—you’re welcome.”

Dagger looked up at the ceiling. “You were… an adequate healer,” he said gruffly, “Likely better than most. Goodbye forever.”

He swung his legs out off the doctor’s bench and shambled towards the door, unused to the movement after his time healing.

Viney hesitated, taking a step forward and another back. “It doesn’t have to be forever,” she called shortly, “Hey—once things are back to normal around here, do you want to come to a flyer derby match? Rough contact sport, I’m gonna knock a whole bunch of people out of the sky.”

Dagger stopped in the doorway. “Well. Maybe. Only to watch people get body-slammed mid air and fall.”

“Right, right,” Viney agreed, “I thought you’d like that part. Hunter can tell you when the matches are—or you could stop by every so often, and I’ll keep you updated?”

“Sounds… fine. Goodbye now.”

Dagger stalked out, and Phoenix chased after him, flashing a thumbs-up to Viney. His own ankle still sat heavy in its cast, but he’d find another healer. “That was nice,” he ventured.

Dagger walked quickly, outpacing Phoenix. “I don’t care about your opinion on the matter. Honestly, why did you even come to the appointment? You knew I was going to be able to walk at the end.”

“It was… sort of my fault you got injured in the first place,” Phoenix said sheepishly, “I thought I should be there. And I know how you feel about trusting strangers. But I guess… that doesn’t apply to Viney anymore?”

“Viney is now an acquaintance,” Dagger said shortly, “One that I, in fact, trust and wish to be around more than I do you. This discussion is over.”

“I just thought it was n—”

“Over.”

Xxx

Caleb plunked a blue scroll on the kitchen table, unrolling it with a flourish. It nearly knocked over Darius’ coffee, but he lifted the cup just in time.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Caleb said with a grin.

“Dreams do come true,” Evelyn laughed, “Everyone—look. We’ve been working on plans for the new house. Novus has been helping, so he’s seen them, but we wanted to share the plans before we made any final decisions.”

“Now that we have an actual count on how many people will be living with us and aren’t periodically adding on rooms, we’ve actually got a real house design,” Caleb continued, “What do you think?”

Phoenix examined the paper, lifting Ghost up so that they could see. The plans did seem more orderly—two stories up with both floors relatively even in size, instead of a sprawling, chaotic bottom floor and a few add-on rooms up top where necessary.

Mole tapped the yard area with a frown.

“He’s right,” Jason piped up, “The fence is too close to the house. The garden will be smaller, unless we get rid of the griffin pen.”

Caleb and Evelyn glanced at each other. “That’s… the other thing we wanted to talk to you about,” Caleb said slowly.

Evelyn took his hand. “We don’t have to hide anymore,” she said lightly, “And with a portal to the human realm, well… we can get some of the foods Caleb needs more easily. The garden isn’t going to be as big because we… we thought we might move closer to town.”

“They’re rebuilding, too,” Caleb added hastily, “If there’s a time to bring our home closer, it’s now. The move will mean better access to food, more healers, help if we need it—we don’t have to be right dead center of the town, but we think it’s a good idea to be a little closer to the people.” He squeezed Evelyn’s hand. “We’ve been isolated long enough. I fell in love with the people of the Isles as much as the Isles itself; I’d like to be near them again.”

“What about hunting demons?” Horus protested, “We can’t get food if we’re not close to the forest.”

“We can live closer to the outskirts,” Caleb promised, “And like we said—now that we can rely on other people, we won’t have to worry as much about food.”

“There’s always bounties for bigger demons,” Evelyn offered, “You don’t have to give it up completely.”

“I don’t like it.”

Silver’s declaration came clear, ringing with distaste, but they quailed underneath the sudden attention as everyone turned towards them.

“I mean—” they stuttered, “I just—uh—never mind.”

“It’s alright,” Caleb encouraged them, “Go ahead, no one’s angry.”

“It’s—it’s too close. There’s too many people. Even with all of us, if they get angry, we won’t be enough to stop them.” They rubbed their arms. “I think we should stay in the woods.”

It was the most Phoenix had ever heard them say without cracking a joke. Silver got along with others so well and was so openly friendly, it was easy to forget the way they crumpled inside of a crowd. But Phoenix remembered how they’d shut down when the coven day parade had turned ugly, and remembered the way they’d nearly died. No wonder they were nervous about moving closer to town and revealing their presence.

“What if we just moved to the edge of the woods?” Phoenix suggested.

All eyes swung towards him, and Silver perceptibly sank in relief. Phoenix shrugged.

“I won’t pretend moving closer to people isn’t appealing,” he admitted, glancing over at Darius, “Even just in the months I’ve been here, we’ve had several emergencies that wouldn’t have been as dire if we weren’t so far from civilization.” He shifted Ghost to his other hip. “And I think Ghost should get the chance to be around witchlings their own age, or we’ll just be repeating history.

But… I think maybe we need to take it slower than moving right to their doors.” He cast an apologetic glance at Caleb. “We have been isolated for a while—I’m not sure launching right back into the thick of society is a good plan. If we move just to the edge of the woods, we’ll be within easy walking distance of town, but far enough away that it won’t be too hard to get used to. I think,” he amended, looking to Silver.

They shrugged.

“I’m okay with that,” Horus agreed.

“The griffins will like having more space, too,” Joseph added, “I know you won’t rely as heavily on their eggs with access to the human realm, but they can’t go out into the wild. And griffin chicks as pets are still a good source of income, especially if you’re planning to rely more heavily on resources from town.”

Caleb smiled, a somewhat tight smile, but still genuine. “Well, this is why we thought we’d get opinions before making a decision,” he said cheerfully, “We’ll reconsider. Thanks, guys.”

Grimwalkers filed out of the kitchen, Caleb and Evelyn following suit after rolling up their plans. Only Darius, Phoenix, and Ghost remained in the kitchen.

“You know, you could always stay with me,” Darius said casually. A little too casually—he stared at his coffee like looking at Phoenix would seem too desperate. “Especially if you’re looking to send the little one to school.” He nodded to Ghost. “I’m closer to Hexside. And if you want to stay near people…”

Phoenix shook his head. “I couldn’t separate Ghost from the rest of the family.” Ghost babbled in agreement.

“You’re their family, too. They wouldn’t be completely separated.” Darius’ fingers tightened on his mug. “What’s the alternative? You move far away? I mean, you in particular, you’re trying out Eda’s elixirs to manage your curse, and you and I had plans to figure out how to use it more beneficially. Wouldn’t it make sense to stay here? With me?”

“Oh—” Phoenix sighed. “Darius—”

“Don’t.” Darius raised a hand. “You’ll go with them. I know that.” A sad, brief smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say that will change your mind?”

“I’ll visit plenty,” Phoenix promised, “We really won’t be that far, and if we’re closer to town, I can catch transportation to Bonesborough easy. It’s not—I don’t—you’re not—”

Darius shook his head. “It’s fine.” He smiled another one of those sad, small smiles. “I suppose I never really had to share you before, did I? I mean, you were always off on some mission or another, or guarding Belos, but… well, it’s different now, isn’t it?”

“I don’t care about them more than I care about you,” Phoenix told him bluntly, “It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, or that I prefer being around them to being around you. But…” he gestured back. “…they’re home now, in a way the keep never was, and in a way it would have been unfair to ask you to be back then. It’s… it’s hard to explain, but it wouldn’t feel right if I stayed with anyone but them.”

Darius looked away. “Of course. Stay with whomever you feel is right.”

He stalked off, and Phoenix heaved a sigh, setting Ghost down and rubbing his temples. “I’m making a mess of things, aren’t I?” he asked the toddler.

They nodded serenely and patted his knee. “Home,” they told him seriously, “Nee-Nee home.”

“I’m trying, buddy.” Phoenix caught sight of Chryses through the window, and he grabbed his crutches, swinging towards the door. “What is he…?”

Getting Cherry or Jason or literally anyone who was capable of walking right now probably would have been the better option. But Phoenix had been stuck inside for too long while everyone insisted that he rest, and this seemed like the perfect excuse to go out.

Chryses didn’t prove hard to catch up with. He moved slowly, and he kept pausing to peer around corners. Phoenix cleared his throat as he approached, but still, Chryses flinched.

“I’m just looking for Silver,” he said softly, “They disappeared after the house thing. I can’t find them inside.”

“I’ll help.”

The ghost of a smile crossed Chryses’ face. “I’m not completely fragile, you know. And I’m not sure you’re in any state to be helping, anyway.”

“Well, I don’t want to be treated like I’m fragile, either,” Phoenix shot back, “Besides, I think Darius is mad at me.”

“For staying with us?”

“More like for not staying with him.”

“Ah.”

Chryses and Phoenix wandered through Bonesborough, occasionally stopping to ask if anyone had seen Silver. Every time, they were met with head shakes and sympathetic ‘I’m sure they’ll turn up’s.

“I haven’t seen them.” The latest witch glanced behind Phoenix. “Ah—you might want to slow down. Your kid is having trouble keeping up.”

Phoenix blinked. “My kid?”

“Is that little one not yours?”

Phoenix clumsily turned around to see Ghost padding up the street towards them, huffing and puffing. They finally caught up with a dramatic sigh, reaching up towards Phoenix.

“You’re not supposed to be out here!” Phoenix exclaimed, dropping his crutches to crouch down next to them, “How long have you been following?”

“Oh—hey!”

A demon stopped and backpedaled, pointing at Phoenix and Chryses. “Are you looking for another witch like you? About yay high, braid?”

“Yes!” Chryses answered quickly, “You’ve seen them?”

“On the next transport worm to the third rib.”

“Silver,” Phoenix groaned.

Chryses scooped Ghost up. “We know where they’re going now. We can catch them. No need to rush. Should we take Ghost home first?”

Phoenix picked his crutches up and slowly rose to his feet. “No, we might miss Silver if they decide to come back soon. We should go after them.”

Chryses nodded, and Phoenix led the way towards the transport worm station—or, at least, where it should be, if they hadn’t rearranged the whole system since he’d disappeared.

Chryses hummed. “It’s nice to finally be walking with someone at my pace,” he told Phoenix, “I know it’s just because of your broken ankle and the baby, but… I’m glad I’m not struggling to keep up for once.”

Phoenix blinked. “Does that happen often?”

Chryses shrugged as best he could around the toddler in his arms. “No one ever means to leave me behind. But it’s easy to do.”

“I’m sorry.”

They plodded on in silence, climbing onto the transport worm. A few riders gave Ghost a worried look, or an openly-hostile stink-eye, but one glare from Phoenix sent them staring determinedly out the windows. Phoenix sat down with a whoosh, stretching out his injured leg with a sigh. The braces on his arms clicked gently with the movement.

Chryses plopped down next to him. “How long has it been hurting? The curse, I mean.”

“Oh.” Phoenix rubbed his wrists and popped his knuckles. “A while, I guess. I’ve just sort of gotten used to my arms always hurting a bit. The leg and the strain of the crutches don’t help, though. How did you know?”

“You’re not the only one with old wounds that hurt.” Chryses pressed one arm against his chest. “I hope we find Silver soon.”

The town remained a wreck—Belos’ shaking had caused walls to crumble, and graffiti still marred the buildings that did stand. But the woods hadn’t changed a bit. Aside from the occasional uprooted tree, there was no evidence whatsoever that the apocalypse had nearly happened.

Phoenix had SEEN their home destroyed. He’d seen it fall beneath the flick of the Collector’s finger. He’d come back again to fight Belos. But somehow, without a lurking threat, the wreckage seemed… sadder. Rubble had been shifted and moved, organized and cleared away so that the others could reclaim their belongings, but knowing that they wouldn’t be rebuilding and were abandoning the site altogether made the piles of stone and wood feel lonelier.

Chryses let Ghost down, pointing silently. Ghost toddled off, moving chunks of rubble with heavy little grunts, and digging in the dirt with their bare hands, singing a song only they knew the words to. Phoenix followed Chryses’ finger to Silver, who perched forlornly on a ruined chair, resting their chin on their knees.

“You didn’t have to follow me. I was going to go back.”

“I know,” Chryses replied softly, “Are you okay?”

“Just wanted to say goodbye.” Silver stood up, brushed themselves off, and waved. “Bye, ruins! Sorry that you two came all the way out here for me. In the immortal words of vegetables everywhere: lettuce leaf now.”

Chryses didn’t move from his spot, even when Silver passed him. “Silver.”

Silver’s shoulders trembled, but they stopped in their tracks. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth.”

“Are you sure about that? Both of you?”

“I’m sure,” Chryses told him. Phoenix nodded.

Silver took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be that close to that many people. Phoenix, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you got us pushed back closer to the woods, but even just that many people knowing we’re out there… I know there are benefits, I was listening to Dad, but it’s dangerous. It’s too risky. What if they find out we used to be golden guards and they want revenge? What if they all hate grimwalkers and they figure out what we are? What if they just don’t like outsiders? We’re safer in hiding. None of them can get angry at us if they don’t know where we are.”

“The cat’s out of the bag already,” Phoenix said quietly, “We’ve been living at Darius’ house for a couple of weeks now, and people have seen us. Caleb might have been able to sneak one grimwalker at a time, but moving all of us is going to be impossible not to notice.”

“Town isn’t that bad, is it?” Chryses asked, “I’ve never been, but surely the people aren’t—”

“You weren’t there!” Silver flinched at their own outburst. “Sorry. Sorry, but Chryses, you weren’t there. Phoenix, you remember how it was—they turned so fast. Maybe they’re not bad all the time, but they’re quick to form a mob.”

“That’s true,” Phoenix said slowly, trying to give himself the time to think of a rebuttal, “They could turn on us. But the last time that happened, you were able to redirect them pretty easily. We all escaped, and no one got hurt. And that was when there were only four of us—you, me, Dad, and Cyrus. How much easier do you think it will be if all of us are together?”

“They’ll know where we live. There won’t be anywhere to escape to.” Silver hugged themselves tightly. “I’m scared. And I don’t think I can joke it away this time.”

“I’m not sure I want life to change either,” Chryses admitted, “I was hurting already; it’s terrifying to think about how it could get worse.” He took a deep breath. “But what if life gets better? What if Ghost can grow up like a normal kid, something we never had? What if we can find a healer that will be able to stop Steven’s seizures? What if Darius and the owl lady really do have a solution for Phoenix’s curse? What if—if one of the townspeople becomes your best friend?”

“It’s going to be a hard step,” Phoenix agreed, “but we have to take it. We’ll figure out the change. We’ll keep compromising until we can all find somewhere comfortable. But we will make it. All of us.”

Compromise.

And just like that, Phoenix knew what we had to say to Darius.

“We’ll make it,” Silver echoed, “Maybe… maybe we could still build something out here. A safe house, in case home is compromised. Just in case. But stay near town.”

“We could at least ask Novus to add a secret room to the plans,” Chryses added, “Somewhere to hide out.”

“Box.”

All three grimwalkers twisted to look at Ghost, who proudly presented a filthy stone cube to Phoenix. An eye marked the surface, and a crack ran around the edge—the lid. Phoenix took the cube from Ghost—he’d never seen it before, but it looked important. Maybe Evelyn or Caleb would know what it was. “Thanks, buddy.”

“Wecom.” Ghost pointed to the trees. “All done. Home now?”

Silver crouched down next to them, “What about home here? Do you remember home here?”

Ghost eyed the rubble distastefully. “Home now,” they repeated, pointing firmly at the path, “Bye.”

They tugged on Phoenix’s crutch, and he shrugged apologetically. “I guess I better take them back to Darius’ house.”

Silver stood in a daze. “I guess so.” They smiled wanly. “Thanks for coming out here to find me. I think… I think you’re right. I think we’re taking steps in the right direction. Small steps.” Silver ruffled Ghost’s hair with a bigger grin, one that looked much more like them. “Perhaps even one could say… baby steps.”

Phoenix groaned, but a laugh burst out of Chryses’ throat. Silver’s head whipped around, a delighted grin plastered across their face.

“I got you?!”

“That was terrible.”

“But you laughed.”

“But I laughed.”

On the ride home, Phoenix idly pulled out his Penstagram scroll.

16 messages.

“Oh, titan.”

The most recent message was from Hunter, and was filled with so many misspellings and random capitalizations, Phoenix didn’t even try to read it. He handed it to Silver, who squinted at the screen, mouthing silently to themselves.

“He says that Darius says to check your messages. I think.”

Phoenix hissed, opening the other 15 messages. They’d been sent within minutes of each other, one at a time. Most of the first few were short, only a few words, but they got longer as time went on, before switching back to short messages.

Where are you?

Did you leave the house?

Are you in town?

Phoenix, where did you go?

Let me know where you went—Eda says you’re not with her.

Are you okay? Did something happen?

Phoenix, are you in danger? Where are you?

Why aren’t you answering?

Caleb says to ask if Ghost is with you. He and Evelyn are worried.

They just did a head count, and they want to know if you’re with Silver and Chryses as well.

Phoenix, I swear to titan, you better not have disappeared again.

Do not make me call Eberwolf to track you down. He’ll make fun of me.

Phoenix, can you answer?

Please tell me you’re alright

Please come back to us

Sick sadness settled in the pit of Phoenix’s stomach, and his arms shifted sluggishly in response. He hadn’t meant to be gone long enough to worry Darius—he’d just been chasing after Chryses and had forgotten to tell anyone where he was going. He leaned back against the transport worm, closing his eyes. The walk to the house and back had left a deep weariness settled in his bones. Phoenix had chalked up his recent exhaustion to how fast everything had moved since he’d run from the Collector, but he’d had plenty of rest and good food now that they’d finally come to a stop. Still, it took so much energy to do things now, and he wondered if it was extra strain from the crutches, or the curse. Maybe some combination of the two.

The worm came to a stop in Bonesborough, and Phoenix hurried back to Darius’ house. Darius paced back and forth outside, his shoulders sagging in relief when he caught sight of Phoenix.

“Don’t disappear on me like that again,” he scolded, “I thought you’d—you’d—”

“Belos is gone,” Phoenix reminded him gently.

“The curse isn’t! You can’t tell me about the time you eloped to the woods half wild in the middle of a boiling rainstorm and then expect me not to worry when you disappear!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think I’d be gone that long.” Phoenix caught Darius’ arms. “Look—Darius. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m still here—look, I’m still here.”

“You’re still here,” Darius repeated. “Hunter—Phoenix. Please don’t leave again.”

He wasn’t just talking about today.

“Change is terrifying,” Phoenix said softly, “I know you’re afraid we’ll drift apart. I know you want to keep me close so that nothing bad will happen again.”

“The last few times I’ve let you out of my sight, you’ve nearly been killed. Is it so bad I want you to stay here?”

“They’re my family.” Phoenix squeezed Darius’ shoulders. “But so are you. I want to stay close—so how about a compromise.”

“A compromise?”

“Share. Once the house is built, I’m going to live with Caleb and Evelyn.”

Darius’ ears drooped, and Phoenix gave him a small shake.

“Hey, I’m not done. I’m going to live with Caleb and Evelyn on the weekdays. But I’ll stay with you on the weekends. And once Ghost is school age? I’ll take them to Hexside, and I’ll stop by every day. You’ll be absolutely sick of me.”

“Never,” Darius said fiercely, “That could never happen.”

“Joking aside… would that be okay? I know it isn’t exactly what you wanted, but it’s the best I can think of.”

“I think I can live with that.” Darius gave Phoenix a small smile. “Thank you.”

Phoenix hugged him, and Darius froze for a second, before patting him awkwardly on the back. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to you being so affectionate.”

Phoenix pulled back. “Sorry. Should have asked.” He pulled back. “Do you know where Caleb is? I should probably let him know we’re all back.”

“Likely pacing indoors. I think Evelyn was about ready to create another scrying spell.”

Phoenix winced. The moment the five of them walked indoors, Evelyn scooped Ghost up, plastering kisses all over their face.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she scolded them, and turned a stink-eye on Phoenix. “Some heads-up that you’d taken the toddler with you would have been nice. You’re old enough that I trust you to take care of yourself. They’re not.”

“Sorry. I didn’t even realize they were following me.” Phoenix held out the stone cube that Ghost had unearthed. “Do you recognize this? They found it at the house.”

Evelyn took the box with a frown. “It’s not mine. And it’s not Caleb’s. Where did they find it?”

“Digging around, I suppose? They were…” Phoenix made a mental map of the house. “…where the kitchen used to be.”

“Hm. The kitchen isn’t an add-on—this box must have been buried underneath the original foundations of the house and gotten shaken up when the Collector destroyed everything.” Evelyn turned the box over in her hands. “It’s a puzzle, I think. I’ll throw it to Sam to solve. He’s been itching for something to do. Or Novus, if Sam can’t.” She shook her head. “It’s odd, though. I could have sworn we were the first people out there. The land seemed untouched when we made our home. No signs of civilization until you hit town.”

Phoenix frowned to match. “But if you, Caleb, and Achsah were the first people out there…who buried the box?”

#toh #the owl house #toh fanfiction #my writing #gilded family au #golden guard oc #caleb wittebane #evelyn clawthorne

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