#Fitzhume

[101daysofwizardvacation]

ok it warms my heart that we actually let fitzhume do some librarianing in the lemuria prequests lmao

[kingatrice]

people don't appreciate Fitzhume enough, that guy is the funniest person in the arcanum

[oldestenemy]

“Shut up, Fitzhume.”

The wizard is so startled by the words out of Ione’s mouth that they almost laugh—despite everything. They look at her, wide eyed, mouth slightly agape. Fitzhume does not look much different. Ione turns her attention back to them, waving a hand towards the spiral door.

“Wizard, go see Bartleby, rest as needed, we will be in touch.”

A blink.

A nod.

The Eye of History clutched in one hand, the wizard steps back out into Ravenwood. It feels like it’s been longer than a couple days. It feels so much longer. But they’d been here earlier in the week. They’d faced Gretta, they’d brought Duncan back with them, they—

—breathe.

The scholars will locate Old Cob, and Mellori with him. And Raven, they suppose. They are trying to think about everything as little as possible. They feel barely awake, barely alive, a shadow shifting under the canopy of leaves stretching out into the street.

The Eye seems to pull itself from their grip as they look up at Bartleby, slotting itself with a dull thunk back into his empty socket. They think about Ozzy for a moment, glad that this sound is more earthen, less like bone—because well, it’s not bone.

“Thank you, Wizard. But I must beg your pardon now, I need time to myself as the past returns to me. I need time to remember everything.” They smile up at Bartleby weakly, gaze roaming his still autumn hued leaves. Perhaps it would take time, the green returning. They wouldn’t complain, it was still easier to pass through him with the different colors, ill an omen as everyone believed them to be.

…Now what?

The wizard loathes down time.

They despise being told to rest.

They hadn’t even stopped to see Baba Yaga.

Someone else is going to tell her Mellori is gone.

Someone else is going to tell her it’s the wizard’s fault.

They didn’t stop her. They were too slow. They didn’t—

—their footsteps pause just before the door to the Myth tower.

Had Baba Yaga known? She must have known. Could she have told them? Was the knowledge tucked away? Were the words out of reach just like their name?

Did any of that even matter now?

They ascend the spiraling steps into the tower proper, warm afternoon sun streams through the yellow and blue glass making up the windows. It throws triangular patterns into the floor, shimmering and shifting as though the light itself is trying to form magic. The wizard pulls a book from one of Cyrus Drake’s shelves, settling down on the floor in a sun spot, eyes glazed over, no words really getting through. They aren’t entirely sure why they chose here to wait, aside from the fact that they were not ready to talk to anyone else but Cyrus, knowing he wouldn’t return to the tower for some hours still. And yet…

The gentle sensation of touch, just over their shoulder, a faint breath drawing ozone and rain. The telltale flash of incoming teleportation—

~*~

Worlds away, in a shining city of barrows and coiling pathways rebuilt from crumbling stone, a necromancer is looking for a mouse. A mouse he has met all of once, only briefly, and is now—perhaps foolishly—trying to pick out from the dozens of armored rodent inhabitants of Bastion.

He is on the brink of frustration, a moments rest taken before a waterfall. A handful of orbs shimmer within the spray, dancing lights filled with deserts, forests, twisting mines, a palace dark and imposing. This world is a vast expanse, open and endless unlike anywhere else he’s ever been. Even the towering ruins of Dragonspyre shrink in his mind at the scale of this place. He feels small here, insignificant as a grain of sand.

It’s awful.

“You sent them away?” He is still new, he tries to keep the open incredulity from his voice but doesn’t quite manage it. “Alone?”

Ione Virga regards him with an intensity that almost makes him want to shrink away. It reminds him he is here on the word and mercy of other people. Maybe that’s her goal. “The wizard was sent to return the Eye of History, beyond that their orders are to rest. Whether they do so alone, or with company does not matter.”

Despite the way she is looking at him, the words don’t…feel hostile? Statement of fact. Little else.

On a ledge beside a waterfall, Duncan Grimwater sits and contemplates his next move. Wonders if coming here was pointless after all. Wonders what he was even trying to achieve.

He knows—

—that doesn’t mean he’s going to admit to it.

Even to himself.

“Hail, Spellbinder.”

He turns his head to see one of the mice striding towards him. Not just one of the mice. The one he’s here for, the one the wizard had spoken to so freely, who they had wanted a chance to say goodbye to, who had made them laugh.

Dyvim Whitehart stands near as tall as Duncan, sword sheathed at his side, a curious smile on his face. “We met in Sardonyx,” Statement, not question. “I see the armor forged as a result is still serving you well.”

Duncan is almost surprised. So used to those around him interacting with an edge of distaste. None of that exists here. “It is.” he agrees, swallowing the urge to silence his next words. He came here for a reason. He is repaying a debt. Even if he’s the only one who feels it needs doing. “I need your help with something.”

~*~

—the wizard is expecting one of the necromancers. Penny or Malorn most likely. Or maybe Suzie if the sharp tang of Storm magic present in the effect is anything to judge by—

—what they do not expect is for Dyvim Whitehart to materialize in a whirlwind of Death magic, looking as though the action itself has thrown him a touch off balance. They scrabble forward to help steady him, sitting back on their heels when all calms.

“Dyvim?” their voice comes quiet, muted and muffled by confusion.

“Someone told me you might be in need of a friend.”

A startled laugh forces itself sharp and ragged from their throat.

Dyvim has heard the sound before.

“It seems ill advised—sending one soldier to fight a war alone—a young one at that.”

The wizard laughs, a sharp and angry sound. Working its way past their lips before it can be stopped. “I’ve never known anything else.” Even before everything felt like a loss, like a pointless raging against inevitability. “Almost a decade of fighting and fighting and fighting.”

They watch Dyvim’s expression sour as he tries to place that range of years. They’d discussed their discrepancies in timing and maturity before, they are near the same sort of “age”, they can see he’s trying to figure out if he’s misunderstood, if all those years were still “adulthood”.

“You have allies who cannot reach this world, who direct you, who aid you—”

“—aid is a strong word.” the wizard replies, “I’m good at working alone. I’m used to it. You—” they stop for a moment, unsure how to admit that he is the first person to truly stick by them, to help them in a real tangible way. Eventually, voice dropping near a whisper. As though admitting it will make the truth of the words hurt. “You’re the first person who hasn’t left the moment I’ve saved them.”

It is not exactly easy to tell Dyvim what had transpired since they’d left him last. But it is easier than it has ever been to tell anyone else. They settle back to the floor, the sunlight almost warmer with Dyvim beside them. And all of it spills out.

“The waiting again is the worst—after Xiabalba, after—” Breathe, they live on, different but surviving. The wizard swallows. The pain recedes. “—there was a long stretch of nothing, there is always something in the way, now with Mellori it’s the same, I have to wait, I have to rest, I don’t—I lost her and I should have known better, I should never have let her come to Mirage with me—but I was too distracted by the Schism and I just—” Their words fall apart, disjointed and trailing off into nothing. “Old Cob tricked me again. Because I was desperate and reckless and stupid. It was the Moon Cliffs again. It was a danger I should have seen coming.”

They should have seen the signs.

Should have recognized Mellori for what and who she was born of.

Shaking. Only just. An unnatural chill to the dampness of their eyes. Swallow it. Keep it tamped down. Nothing good will come of that outpouring here.

“Spellbinder.”

It is nice.

Not being the Wizard.

It’s not their name.

But it is a name born of only one place.

A minute difference.

A hand on their shoulder.

More closeness than most are permitted.

A friend in arms.

Just enough.

Not fully their own—but not an empty shell—closer to who they are instead of what they are.

“You’re fighting another war alone.”

“Two under my belt since ours—if you count a revolution as a war, and a turf war as another.” Disconnect from it, set it apart and it won’t feel as bad. “There has been some help.” Ivan. Ozzy. Mellori—dammit. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” There is a glint of understanding in his eyes, a slight challenge in the words themselves. As though he is asking not what they are trying to apologize for—but rather asking they find the strength not to.

They know better, they know he doesn’t blame them. It doesn’t stop the words. “I never apologized—I was too slow then—and I was too slow now—and I can’t ever save anyone when it matters—”

“—stop.” Dyvim’s voice is just sharp enough to cut them off, it softens out as he continues “You brought life back to the husk of a world that Khrysalis became under the Shadow Queen. It sounds as though you have saved all of us from ruin again. You will find your friend, even if it takes time. And I’ll not hear you decrying the hero I’ve grown so fond of.”

Hero.

Always.

Never corrected, the weight still carried. Heroes don’t ask to watch as their enemies die. Heroes do not seek vengeance. Do not strike back at people who are meant to be on the same side. Do not sling spells before asking simple questions. Do not raise horrors beyond knowing from ancient pits. Or drag their friends into danger. Heroes do not lose themselves to Shadow magic and rip foes apart bare handed.

They haven’t felt like a hero in years.

The wizard doesn’t say it.

They lean into Dyvim. Head resting against his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

It can be enough.

It has to be.

read the rest here <3

[polaris101]

My Wizard101 Pride Month Headcanons: pt 2 (the arcanum)

these are all based on vibes

Tarrak Hadfield - he/him, pansexual

Jaki Whisperwind - they/them, lesbian

Ione Virga - they/them, lesbian

Ignus Ferric - he/him, leather gay

Baba Yaga - she/her, questioning???

Zander - any pronouns? definitely not straight

Qismah Shasa - she/they, bisexual?

Velma von Venkman - she/they, lesbian

Qyburn Stellargaze - he/they, pansexual

these last 3 are all being smushed together cause again i am limited to only 10 pics on mobile

1) Maulwurf von Trap - i’m sorry but he gives me homophobic/transphobic conservative vibes 💀 i feel like if you were to ask him what his pronouns are he’d go, “NOR/MAL” or he’d scream at you and call you a slur in the process

2) Librarian Fitzhume - GAY TWINK. (he may be gay but that doesn’t stop him from being homophobic, sometimes its a joke. sometimes he’s serious.)

3) Sparck - non-binary, asexual, gay.

[destiny-dreamwielder]

No One's Ever Had Me (Not Like You)

Rating: T

Pairing: Destiny DreamWielder (OC) x Malorn Ashthorn

Summary: Destiny and her companions return to Ravenwood after Polaris. But everything is changing now, including Destiny's relationship with Malorn, one of her very best friends.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Discussion of bullying, a decent amount of angst, and a relationship getting to first base.

A/N: This is a sequel to this fic I posted a while ago! (I do encourage refreshing yourself if you'd like, though this one can be standalone.) I wanted to finally write out and post how Destiny and Malorn got together, because I have brainworms about a set of pixels with personalities I gave them. Title comes once again from a Taylor Swift song, this time it's So High School.

“Go on and take your leisure,” Baba Yaga instructed. “You’ve earned it. Don’t stray too far though. Don’t leave the Spiral. We’ll be in touch soon enough.”

“Alright,” Destiny answered, head still spinning. She had been expecting instructions along those lines. Back to “normal,” for now. She turned back to her companions as Baba Yaga retreated to her office and Fitzhume returned to his desk. Destiny stood surrounded by Mellori, Myrna, and Catherine, and she knew they weren't all returning to the same place. “I guess this is where we split up,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness. 

“Are you okay, DreamWielder?” Catherine asked, concerned as she always was. Destiny was often rather shaken up after a quest, and usually asked her best friend to stick around for a while to discuss everything.

“I’m actually doing alright. I know we saved the entire Spiral again, but honestly I was more freaked when Myrna almost punched the Empress.” (Catherine laughed at that, while Myrna huffed.) “You should go talk to Alhazred. Give the Order of the Fang an update. I’m sure they’ll call us back here soon, let’s be normal for now. I’m gonna go get all my things from my dorm. I was supposed to do that before we left.”

“About that,” Myrna interjected. After months at home, her accent was even stronger than it was when Destiny first met her. “I’ll be collecting my things and saying my goodbyes as well. Tarrack agreed to take me on as a student once again, and I am needed in Polaris. I cannot be around Ravenwood anymore, anyway. Knowing that Professor Drake and Headmaster Ambrose lied to me all these years, I can’t stand it.”

Destiny’s heart sank a little. She'd known when she'd graduated that things were going to begin changing, but she hadn’t realized it would be so soon. “That sounds really great, Myr. I’ll miss you, though. And you’re telling Shawna, not me.”

“Of course,” Myrna responded. The usually stoic Polarian had tears forming in her eyes, and they all fell quiet.

Catherine took the silence as an opportunity to say her goodbyes. She hugged Destiny tightly, and promised to come see her the next day. Then she turned to the others. “Mellori, it was an honor adventuring with you! Good luck at Ravenwood, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” She offered her hand, and Mellori shook it with a smile of her own.

“Looking forward to it,” the younger girl responded with a grin.

“Myrna, it was really nice to see you again, I hope this won’t be the last time. And honestly, I think you’ll do incredible things for your people. You’re their lost princess, I saw the hope you brought them.” Catherine held up her arms gingerly, unsure if Myrna would accept a hug.

The Thaumaturge allowed it, embracing the Sorcerer briefly. “Thank you, Catherine. I hope to see you again as well.”

Catherine gave Destiny one last hug before leaving the group for the world door, pulling out a key and stepping through to Krokotopia.

“Mellori, come on,” Destiny beckoned as she turned back to her remaining friends. “We’ll bring you to Ravenwood.”

“I don’t need a chaperone,” Mellori groaned, crossing her arms in annoyance.

“We’re going back there anyway, and you should be introduced to everyone properly. Seems like Baba Yaga has already spoken to Ambrose, so we’ll bring you right to Mr Lincoln and then Professor Wu. And we’ll introduce you to Shawna and Neela. I'm not chaperoning you, I’m being a friend.”

“Okay, I guess that doesn’t sound terrible,” Mellori agreed sheepishly, and the three of them followed Catherine’s path to the world door.

They ascended the platform, and Destiny reached into her satchel and pulled out the correct spiral key. She inserted it into the lock and opened the door, gesturing for the others to go first. They stepped out into Bartleby, and Destiny frowned, seeing the dead leaves scattered around the floor of his chamber. An odd, tingly pit formed in her stomach. Something felt…off. She could tell he’d gotten worse.

When they stepped outside, she could hear the great tree groaning. She couldn't understand him, but she was distracted by Shawna before she could stop to try. The fairy was hovering in front of Bartleby and chatting with Arthur Wethersfield, but she looked up at the sight of her friends emerging.

“Destiny! Myrna! How was Polaris? Who’s this? I’m Shawna, I’m a Theurgist! And a fairy. I’m from Avalon. Where are you from?”

Destiny laughed at her friend’s familiarly fast speech. She and Myrna both embraced the third member of their trio eagerly. “We missed you, Shawna,” Destiny smiled. “This is Mellori, she’s from Polaris as well, and she’s come here to study Theurgy.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mellori added, offering a hand.

Shawna grabbed it and shook it enthusiastically. “Alright! That’s amazing! Let’s go see Moolinda! She’ll be glad to meet you!”

“Mr Lincoln first,” Destiny interjected. “She has to fill out the paperwork.”

“You do that,” Myrna smiled weakly, her resolve clearly weakened by seeing her best friend again. “I must return to my dorm.”

Destiny nodded. “I’ll send her your way when we’re done,” she whispered. Myrna gave a small smile before leaving.

Shawna waved goodbye as she led Mellori to where Mr Lincoln stood, explaining Ravenwood to the new girl like she once had to Destiny. Mellori listened intently as she filled out the consent and allergy forms, and snipped off a lock of her hair. As soon as they were done, Shawna immediately guided Mellori over to the Life School before Mr Lincoln could even finish his welcome speech.

Destiny half listened to Shawna’s continued explanation as she followed. Shawna GoldHeart and Abby Doodle each had signature RA welcome speeches that worked very well, but they both gave the same one every time. And as much as Destiny loved her friend, she could only listen to the same speech so many times. As her mind wandered, she considered all that she had to get done before she was inevitably summoned again. Besides fully leaving Ravenwood, she had to catch up with Neela, at the very least. But she made a note to go visit Alia as well. The Diviner would definitely want to meet Qyburn, both as a scholar of Astral magic, and as a fellow Celestian. Most of all, though, Destiny really wanted to find Malorn. She hadn’t spoken to him at all since her graduation, even though she had really intended to seek him out before leaving for Polaris. Everything he’d said to her had broken her heart, and his promise to wait for her had remained at the top of her mind. Now, she really needed to see him, both because he was one of her best friends, and because she was realizing that she wanted to be more than that.

She’d had a crush on him for years now. Ever since he'd picked her up and spun her around in circles when she came home with the Spiral Cup all those years ago. She’d been thirteen going on fourteen, he’d been fifteen, and she’d suddenly begun to see him in a brand new light. Destiny had largely been able to ignore her feelings, though Catherine heard all about them on many sleepless nights in foreign worlds. Destiny had, in turn, happily listened to Catherine talk about her own crush back in Krokotopia, Tiye. 

After a moment, she realized talking to Malorn was her easiest goal. Under the pretense of saying “hi” to Ivan, Destiny walked out farther past the Life School for a moment, craning her neck to look around to the Death School’s chasm. She spotted him conducting class with a number of apprentices. She’d talk to him as soon as she could, but for now she led her friends inside.

Destiny was the one to introduce Mellori to Professor Wu, and she was glad to see that Mellori seemed to perk up as the conversation continued and she saw she would not be stuck in with the novices. Instead, she’d be assessed and placed in the correct classes for her skill level. Moolinda seemed to take a liking to Mellori, and dismissed the older girls so she could talk more with her new student. Shawna looked excited to start the typical barrage of questions Destiny always answered after returning from a quest, but Destiny stopped her.

“Is Neela around?” she asked first. “I think she and Mellori will get along.”

“Oh I wish! They totally will, won’t they? But no, she’s off in the Sunken City. She’s collecting samples and stuff for Dworgyn. I offered to come, but she said she wanted to fight the Grub herself. She’ll be back tomorrow. But I can’t wait! Tell me all about Polaris! Mellori said you totally saved the world!”

“I’ll explain everything, but you need to talk to Myrna first. She has some big news, and you should hear it from her.”

Shawna frowned, a rare expression for her. “Okay,” she agreed, dropping down to her feet from her previously fluttering wings. Destiny watched her head back to the dorms, knowing they'd have to face the reality of their trio splitting up sooner rather than later. She was not looking forward to it.

Her thoughts were soon interrupted by another familiar voice. “Dez!” it called, and Destiny smiled. She turned back towards it and saw Malorn running right for her. He nearly knocked her over with the force of his hug, catching her off guard for once. Usually the bells on his hat let her know he was nearby.

“Hi,” she giggled, holding on to him tightly for stability’s sake. And also because she was very glad to see him. “I missed you. I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye, as soon as Myrna heard ‘Polaris’ she was ready to go.”

“It’s okay, Dez, really,” he murmured in her ear before pulling back slightly, still not letting go of her. “Don’t apologize for saving us yet again. And I figured as much when I heard her screaming at Cyrus about the key.”

“Yeah. She’s decided to move back permanently. She’s packing up her dorm now. I’ve gotta do the same.”

“Are you sure you’re up to that right now?” he asked, concerned, and she faltered. 

She wasn’t, she realized. Myrna was packing up to go back home, but that dorm was all Destiny had ever known as home. In the orphanage, she’d shared a room with ten other girls and had almost no possessions of her own. It had been the only home she’d known for eleven long years, but it had never really been hers. Her dorm and all she’d acquired to decorate it were the first things that had ever fully belonged to her. She had gold saved up, so she could buy a house. But all of a sudden, the realization that she had to leave her first real home was setting in, and she began to cry.

Malorn quickly reached up and wiped her tears away. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to do it right away. Let’s go back to my place. You kind of look like you need a nap.”

“Are you sure?” she sniffed, trying to hold her voice steady. “I mean, I can just go back to my dorm. I can sleep there”

“Dez,” he said softly, tucking a stray curl behind her ear and cupping her cheek. Her heart melted a little. He'd always called her that, and he’d always been the only one who did. “I told you at your graduation that I’d be here for you. Here I am. C’mon, let me do this for you. I’ll make us some food, too. Seriously, I’m happy to.”

“Okay,” she sniffed and grabbed his hand tightly. She’d realized that she absolutely did not want to let go of him. He led her gently towards the tunnel to the Commons, on the way to Olde Town. Destiny ducked her head as everyone they passed stared at her. She hated her reputation, and hated the way everyone seemed to revere her. Everyone called her a hero, sure, and she was proud of what she’d done for the most part, but all she’d ever wanted was to fit in. When she’d first enrolled, she’d thought she finally would, but as soon as she became Ambrose’s favorite student, that dream was dashed. And even in the Spiral, her eyes and her visions still set her apart.

Malorn didn't treat her differently, though. He never had. He’d always been kind to her, and he’d always understood her. Even now, he just guided her down the familiar route to his apartment, unlocking the door and leading her inside. He led her to his bedroom without a second thought and pulled back the rumpled covers, finally releasing her hand. Her own hand felt empty now. “Sleep please, Dez,” he begged. “You’re crashing right now, I can tell.”

She couldn't argue, so she unlaced her boots, pulled off her satchel and coat, piled them on a chair with her staff, and climbed into his bed at his insistence. His sheets smelled like him, fresh grave dirt and the Wisterian cologne he’d taken a liking to after she’d gotten him a bottle as a souvenir. She closed her eyes and slipped into slumber quickly, not noticing his smile as he watched her drift off.

Dreams came, as they always did, but these ones were bad. She saw flashes of Malistaire stealing Bartleby’s eye, of the great tree’s roots drying up, and of a grove of smaller white trees that had already died, floating in the aethyr. She saw herself standing in the grove, growing roots from her feet and branches from her arms, surrounded by dead husks of all the school trees. Raven looked over the scene with a disapproving glare.

Destiny began to panic, until suddenly a voice called and she was startled awake. “Destiny, it’s okay! You were having a nightmare.”

She opened her eyes with a start to see Malorn crouched down to her eye level, his hand on her shoulder. It was dark outside the window, and he’d taken off his own shoes, hat, and outer layers. She could smell something cooking.

Realizing her cheeks were wet, Destiny sat up quickly, wiping her eyes and pushing back her now horribly tangled curls. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them as she breathed heavily. “I’m fine. I have them a lot,” she admitted. “They’re like my visions, but they’re not always as literal. The dreams are usually more symbolic of something coming or that’s already happened, but the visions show me events exactly as they play out.”

Malorn sat down on the bed as well, looking at her sympathetically. “That sounds pretty terrifying,” he offered with a frown. 

She snorted. “Yeah. I’ve had them since I was a kid back on Earth. They weren’t so clear back then, since there wasn’t much mana, but they still made me weird. I was so excited when I came here and thought I had an explanation, but I’m still a freak. No one else has these visions, and no one knows why I do.”

“Hey, you’re not a freak. I’ve always thought your visions were cool. You’re powerful, that’s all.”

“I never wanted to be powerful. I just wanted to be normal. But everyone’s always known I’m not. They pick me out and tear me apart for it. Like, when I was a kid, I had this crush on a boy at school, and I thought he liked me, too. But one time, when I thought he was gonna kiss me under the slide, he rolled his eyes back in his head and started screaming. He was making fun of me. That’s how everyone treated me. It’s not much better coming here and having everyone still think my visions are weird, and being scared of me, or jealous that I’m Ambrose’s pet.”

She’d brought up her feelings about the subject to Malorn before, but never in depth like this. Destiny looked up and met his eyes, half expecting him to look confused or annoyed. She knew she should be grateful for being naturally gifted, but she really just wanted to be like everyone else. At this point, though, she knew full well that would never happen. 

The only thing in Malorn’s eyes, however, was kindness. He was quiet for a moment, thinking, before he began to speak. “There’s this girl who was here before you. Her name was Maria CloudCoin. She was a Diviner, and I had the biggest crush on her years ago, back before Malistaire left. Right after he did, everyone was really suspicious of his students. I mean, you saw some of it, but it was even worse early on. And she really, really thought we were going to follow in his footsteps. Right after Ambrose asked me to start teaching everyone who didn’t move to independent study, she marched right up to me and said she knew that I was recruiting new students to be in Malistaire’s evil army. She smacked me, right there in Ravenwood, and she got in really big trouble with Cyrus. I think he got her expelled. But after that, people still seemed to take her accusations seriously. Most people are over it now, and they all seem to like me well enough, but I still have to explain myself sometimes, especially since Duncan left. And I’m glad that I have this job. I like teaching young students. But I still feel like I’m carrying all this weight on my shoulders just to still be called evil. I know it’s not the same, but… I get it Dez, you know? And you never have to apologize for how you feel. Not to me.”

Destiny’s tears returned as she listened to Malorn’s story. She lowered her knees to sit cross-legged, reaching out her hands to take his. “I’m sorry, Malorn. I didn’t realize you were still dealing with that.”

“It’s not really common anymore, mostly thanks to you. People generally seem to like me now, I think. They like you, too. They’re just a little intimidated.”

Destiny sighed. “Of course they like you, you’re amazing. I don’t think they’ll come around the same way for me.”

“Sure they will. One day, everyone’s going to recognize all the amazing things I’ve always seen in you." 

“Well, thank you. I hope you’re right,” she responded simply, beginning to feel a little overwhelmed by Malorn’s confidence in her good qualities.

“I know I am,” he grinned. “They will come around. And not just because you’re beautiful, because according to Neela that’s a part of why everyone came around on me. I don’t think that’s fully true, though.”

This caught Destiny completely off guard. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“I don’t just think you’re beautiful, Dez,” he remarked so casually she thought she might die, “It's an objective fact.”

Destiny let out a high pitched laugh, trying to cover how fast her heart was beating. “Thank you for saying that, if it’s true. But what do you mean about Neela?” 

She knew exactly what he meant. Malorn was really cute, and all the novices noticed it. Neela had mentioned her classmates being jealous of Destiny and Malorn’s friendship, and Destiny had personally observed plenty of young students attempting to flirt with him. But she hadn’t realized Malorn knew about all that.

“I meant that Neela told me there are some kids that choose to be Necromancers because they think I’m cute. But seriously, I think she’s just messing with me.”

“No,” Destiny sighed, “she’s right. I’ve seen it too. It makes sense, you are really cute.”

Malorn’s tan cheeks tinged with pink, and she realized they’ve just made their position rather compromising. “Really?” he asked, suddenly very awkward, and Destiny buried her face in her palms to hide her own blush.

“Yeah, of course,” she responded, though it’s garbled a little by her hands. “You’ve got that mysterious vibe, you know? And you are good-looking.” She finally looked up to see him grinning like an idiot.

“You think so? You’re not messing with me?”

She rolled her eyes and moved again, sitting up on her knees. “Of course not. I have eyes. And I know you. How come I’m supposed to just accept that I’m beautiful, but you don’t believe you’re cute?”

He laughed, and seemed to speak before he could catch himself. “Because I and everyone else in the world have eyes, too. But I’m trying to figure out if I'm cute enough that you wouldn’t mind if I-” he cut himself off, looking embarrassed.

“If you what?” she asked, breathless as her heart skipped a beat.

“If I kissed you,” he said finally, breaking her gaze. “I’m sorry, Dez, I made it weird.”

Destiny's brain went blank. She could only stare at Malorn for a moment as she slowly processed that he was harboring the same feelings for her that she felt for him. As it finally clicked in her mind, she immediately reached up to touch his cheek. “Actually,” she began shyly, “I’d really like it if you kissed me right now.”

He instantly looked up at her, searching her eyes to make sure she was serious. When he saw that she was, he quickly leaned forward to capture her lips with his, one hand beside her on the mattress for balance as the other cupped her jaw. Her hands found their way to his jaw as well, and she smiled as she kissed him back enthusiastically.

When they finally broke the kiss, she couldn't do anything but stare into his eyes, an uncontrollable smile on her face. He seemed much the same, planting another brief kiss on her lips.

“Stay the night here,” he offered. “I made varenyky, like you showed me a few months ago. It’s all ready. And tomorrow, I’ll help you clean out your dorm. But you really deserve to just rest, and relax.”

“Oh, Malorn,” she sighed, “thank you.” She was a little overwhelmed by his care. Varenyky, cooked just like the nuns made it, had always been her favorite food, especially when she was upset. She’d shown him how to make it a little while after her defeat of Morganthe, when he’d wanted to help her cope with her guilt over Azteca and everything else. She was honored he’d remembered how to make it. 

“I really appreciate it,” she continued, “but I don’t want to impose on you. You don't have to always take care of me or anything.” She wasn’t quite sure how they stood. Was he offering out of obligation? Did he really want her to stay? Were they still just friends, or did he also want to be something more? She felt like she had to clarify. If she assumed, she could ruin everything.

“Destiny,” he snorted, taking a hold of her hands, “I offered. I told you I’m here for you, and I mean it. I like taking care of you, and I know you’d do the same for me. You’ll have to get used to this if we’re going to… well you know.”

“If we’re going to what?” she asked, her stomach fluttering. She really hoped she knew where this was going.

“Well, I’d like to ask you to be my girlfriend. And I was really hoping you’d say yes. But if you do, you’ll definitely have to get used to me taking care of you when you need it.”

Destiny beamed. She couldn't help it. “Okay, fine. I accept your terms, Ashthorn.”

He laughed. “Glad we could reach an agreement, DreamWielder.” He leaned in for another kiss, and Destiny sighed as their lips met again. The scholars were going to call her back again soon. She’d been initiated into the Arcanum. Ravenwood wasn’t her home anymore. She needed to find a new house. Myrna was leaving. Shawna wouldn't be her neighbor anymore. Everything was changing. But that didn't matter right now. This new relationship with Malorn was definitely a change, but it was a really, really good one. One she’d wanted for a long time. And she really wanted to stay like this, with him, forever.

[ravenwoodalum]

One in a Million - The Wizard101 Character Tourney

We start on Thursday, noon EST. 24h polls, with round one split into left and right -- matches specified below for readability.

Fill your brackets out, start preparing your contestant propaganda, and I'll see you on Thursday!

Round One Matches are as follows:

SIDE ONE

Bartleby vs Ozzy

Duck Savage VS Wilma Deering (sorry folks, this is just how the seeding resulted)

Arthur Wethersfield vs Queen Aryanah Silvertusk

Ione Virga VS Skeletaur

King Artorius VS Chester Droors

Khan VS Dr. Jackall

The Professor VS Velma von Venkman

Eloise Merryweather Vs Tatyanna

Baba Yaga VS Zigi Stardust

The Kraken VS Tarrak Hadfield

Sparck Virga VS Stallion Quartermane

Shadoe VS Bearyshnakov

Selena Gomez VS Myrella Windspar

Baldur Goldpaws VS Professor Hargrove (Battle of the Bears)

Tosh VS Zander

Sylvia Drake VS Gobbler King

SIDE TWO

Grandmother Raven VS Nana

Emperor Yoshihito VS Dog Tracy

Diego the Duelmaster VS Qyburn Stellargaze

Elik Silverfist VS Mandar the Barbarian

Belladonna Crisp VS Burdie

Gwendolyn VS Solomon Crane

Sultana Sharzad VS Meowiarty

Prospector Zeke VS Monstrologist Burke

Dyvim Whitehart VS Fernanda Maregellan

Ghost Dog VS The Smiths

Nick Jonas VS Librarian Fitzhume

Beans VS The Bantam

Pork VS Renee Wooften

Greta VS Zoot

Moo Bu VS Buck Gordon

Grandfather Spider/Old Cob VS Istar

[sentient-cloud]

I said in the tags but I really want to give my wizards each like. Friends / ties into the greater lore.

I mentioned Taryns dating Dalia. She used to work for Harold Argleston in the wizard city library. She is very specifically interested in preserving the histories and stories of lost or heavily isolated worlds due to her Dragonspyre heritage, dragonspyre specifically is a big focus for her. She’s working with Milos to make copies of dragonspyre knowledge crystals and books and taking accounts of the fate and history of Dragonspyre and archiving them (at first in the wiz library ab then the Arcanum) and with this she’d also I think definitely have ties in with Khrysalis (very close with Zaltanna) and Empyrea, and I also think with Azteca as well. She’s friends w Pork and Beans i think they’re very dear to her as people who see her as a crew mate and a friend and not The Wizard tm. She needs that, friends to just chill with. Fucking hates Fitzhume their beef is insane. I also unfortunately think she’d get on with Stallion, he’s a valuable firsthand source after all (even if he’s extremely unreliable and prone to exaggeration. She’ll take what she can get)

Well. Obviously I have a lot more with her than anyone else 😭

I think Autumn never really made any meaningful connections or lasting friendships until Dasein, though I also can see her getting on with Moo Bu perhaps

Other guys eaugh. Well Katherine at least was buds w Baldur Goldpaws, and she’s from Hrundle Fjord so I imagine she knows a lot of those guys. Haven’t super played her to know what I want with her

Same with Quinn honestly. I definitely think I want him to have a feeling of isolation about him, I’m sure I’ll find some guys to be his buddy or enemy or whatever though

Oh Kestrel. Well. She at the least was A member of the spiral geographic society and was a planned member of the Celestia expedition before she blew up.

[rayne-the-neutrois-nerd]

Librarian Fitzhume sounds like fucking stewie griffin and it's driving me insane. It would be better if he had a better attitude but i really wanna punt this fucker into the void

[necrospellbinder]

Say My Name

Title: Say My Name

Rating: T

Description: Sometimes, you just need someone to say your name, your actual name. Not Wizard. Keep reading for more. 

Part 1: Prawn to the King’s Forth

You were promised a vacation by the Arcanum. You were promised some well deserved time off. Time alone to yourself…And yet here you are, heading to the Arcanum’s calls immediately after dismissing you.

What luck; another promise broken.

You step into the Arcanum, bracing yourself for whatever condescending smart remarks Librarian Fitzhume throws at you. You grumble under your breath as you take each step, ranting about how everyone the Arcanum seems to treat you like a pitiful child, even though you’ve saved the spiral from collateral catastrophe…thrice. Ione and the fore mentioned Fitzhume especially seem to think of you as incompetent.

As you approach the pompous Librarian, he sneers at you as he speaks, “Oh, look, it’s the hero of Unicorn Way.” You stare back at him with a snarl, your eyebrows raised and your teeth clenched.

“What? I’m a librarian; I do my research!” Fitzhume retorts back. “But seriously, nice job saving us from cataclysmic doom.”

You raise your eyebrow further, not sure whether he is being serious or mocking you. But you shrug your shoulders as he continues to speak in his annoyingly posh accent. “You and I are a lot alike, you know. We’re both made to perform tasks we didn’t sign up for, and we never get the credit we deserve.”

You relax your eyebrows, realizing that he was being serious and not at all condescending. But you quickly raise them up again when you begin to wonder what exactly the Arcanum is up to this time. He wouldn’t just praise you if he didn’t want something.

“For instance, after the Musiocology Scholar blew up his office, who managed the clean up and do all the paperwork move him into a new one?” Fitzhume asks.

Since when does the Arcanum have a Musiocology Scholar?

“Me!” Fitzhume answers his own question. “And when Ione needs someone to fix her problems - or was it a mole problem? Yes…fix her mole problem, who does she run to?”

Prospector Zeke? At this point, you’re convinced that anything’s possible, that anyone could be your next enemy. Who do you trust? Who is your friend? Who knows-

“That’s right, me!” Fitzhume answers again, snapping you back into reality. “LIBRARIAN Fitzhume. I’m two millennia’s worth of books to Dewey decimalize, yet Princess Ione makes me call the exterminator!”

Right, that’s where you come in, of course.

“‘Hero of the Arcanum’ is what they should call me!” Fitzhume complains. “Oh well; you should probably help Ione before that mole makes too big of a mess.”

You begrudgingly nod your head, dreading the absolute worst to happen. Whether that be from the cabal, or a new threat entirely, only time will tell.

-

You immediately rush into Scholar Ione Virga’s office, to the surprise of absolutely no one.

“Ah, Wizard; welcome back.” Ione greets you, already knowing what you are about to say. “What you’ve heard is true. The Arcanum has a mole.”

Better get this over with then, you think to yourself.

“But first, we must attend to the matter of your rank.” Ione adds. “Besting your primordial powers of creation and saving all life goes well beyond the responsibilities of an Understudy.”

That’s only putting it lightly, of course.

“In addition, your work to unite the factious forces of Light and Shadow, as well as the Arcanum and the Council of Light, deserves special recognition.” Ione continues as she hands you a bag of items inside. “Thus, I hereby promote you to Arcanum Liaison and grant you the appropriate uniform.”

What, is what your wearing too casual for the Arcanum? Rude. Nobody really ever appreciates all that you do, and it makes you feel like you are personally unwanted. No, not the savior persona you’ve had to put on for everyone; the real, honest you.

“I also wish to personally extend an earnest…thank you.” Ione nervously adds, before immediately moving onto the main reason why you have been sent here in the first place.

“Now, onto the mole issue.” Ione nods her head. “Following Grandfather Spider’s retirement, we’ve been monitoring Cabal communications for attempted retribution. Unfortunately, we traced many of the communications right back here to the Arcanum. The Musiocology Department, to be precise.”

Again, since when did the Arcanum have a Musiocology Department?

“After the Medulla Headache, we ask that you, the Arcanum Liaison, be the first to confront Scholar Von Trap. For liability reasons, of course.”

So much for the heartfelt, earnest thank you, Ione.

-

With Von Trap’s new office being next to your Arcanum Office/Apartment, you barge in to find the Mole in question humming a merry tune.

Not caring for his musical antics, you forcefully demand the Cabalist Mole to surrender now, or else.

Shocked, Von Trap turns to you and responds in a thick, olde fashioned Karamelle accent, “Surrender Cabalist Mole? Such an odd greeting-”

Realization strikes in quickly as to why you have confronted him. “Oooh, I think I see what is going on here. Come, let us speak.”

You sigh aloud, complying with this Mole’s request. You might as well hear him out before you blast him to smithereens.

“First with the Introductions, I am Maulwurf Von Trap, Scholar of Musciology!” The Mole, Maulwurf introduces himself to you. He seems polite enough, almost to a suspicious degree. “A very exciting magical discipline in which we have no time to discuss.”

When is there ever any time to discuss such trivialities?

Maulwurf continues talking by explaining, “As you have observed, I am mole, but not of the sneaky-sneaky-infiltraty variety, no, no! In fact, it is I who has uncovered the latest Cabal plot!”

You raise your eyebrow in suspicion, but remain silent to hear what exactly this Mole has discovered.

“Indeed, Grandfather Spider may be silenced forever, but his former underlings still carry his old, shadowy tune!” Maulwurf continues. “As we speak, a fiend named the Scarlet Shrimpenel is plotting to retake Khrysalis!”

Khrysalis…now that’s a place you remember. Not only did you spend a considerable amount of time there, but that’s where you defeated the Shadow Queen after failing to save Azteca from Xiabalba. It’s also where you freed Grandfather under Taylor Coleridge’s influence. That Rat got off Scott free for what he did…

How much has Khrysalis changed since you freed it from the Umbra Legion?

You press Maulwurf for more details.

“He plans to assassinate King Pyat MourningSword and seize the throne!” Maulwurf explains, complying with your request. “You know this world, yes? Then you must go to Bastion and thwart him!”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice; there’s a king in danger, and a world that needs defending. Same old song and dance, same old boring routine. Best get going, then.

-

You arrive in Bastion as quickly as you can; somehow, the Spiral Door is still not fixed. Perhaps it’s a security measure to prevent unwanted guests from entering? Not that it matters, because you’ve been spotted by someone; someone with a strong sense of perception and awareness.

A silhouette runs in the distance, coming closer towards you.

“Halt!” The figure ahead immediately yells, stopping you from moving any further. As he comes closer, his features become more recognizable; the long ears, the antlers on his helmet, the tail, those eyes and that deep, authoritative voice…

That mouse is Dyvim Whitehart; the first true ally you made in Khrysalis.

“No one may enter Khrysalis without-” The Mouse Knight immediately stops in his tracks as he takes a closer look at you. He remembers you, and a bright smile arises from his lips (or the mouse equivalent of lips).

His eyes light up with excitement, and his voice turns from stern to jolly.

“Oh, Spellbinder, it’s you!” The mouse cheers, happy to see you once more. A weak smile rises from your lips; it’s good to know that he still remembers you.

Of course he does…why wouldn’t he?

As far as allies go, he was one of the more helpful and pleasant ones to have by your side, that’s for sure. In fact, you could consider him a friend; he certainly seems to consider you one. But he, like everyone else in the Spiral, has never said your name out loud.

To him, you must just still be “Wizard”, or, more accurately, “The Spellbinder”. That’s what he’s more excited about, not you personally, you tell yourself.

“Is this a social visit, or has a new calamity returned you to our world?” Dyvim asks out of peeked curiosity. You hesitantly nod your head at the latter, as you explain to him what you’ve been told. His face goes white.

“A shadowy cabal agent named the Scarlet Shrimpenel is here in Bastion, and he stalks our king?” Dyvim asks, relaying everything told to him. You nod again in confirmation. “No, that’s impossible!”

Well, it’s always possible Maulwurf is lying. But your duty as the Spiral’s hero requires you to act in good faith.

“I’ve personally verified each and every person that has come through this world door.” Dyvim responds back to you. He looks off the the door in question, lost in thought. “Unless…”

Unless…?

“…there was a conspicuously large delivery of seafood that came through recently.” Dyvim theorizes. He looks back at you again with intense vigor you recognize from your past adventures with him. “Perhaps those crates were packed with more than just imported fish. I made note of the delivery’s final destination. Follow me!”

You nod in response, following Dyvim as he leads you to where the suspicious seafood was supposedly delivered. As the two of you walk closer, the stench of smelly Polarian fish draws closer.

“Do you smell that?” Dyvim asks you as he sniffs the putrid fish musk. You nod. “It’s the stench of evil…and shellfish.” Dyvim was never one to hide his true feelings. If he had something to say, then he was going to say it!

It must be nice, to feel so intensely as he does. But your feelings…your feelings feel subdued. Pacified.

“Once again, old friend, let us save Khrysalis.” Dyvim responds back in a heartfelt, compassionate tone, placing a hand, or a rather a paw, on your shoulder. You look back at him, the fire in his eyes burning bright. “Together. Kiai!”

-

Inside the two of you barge inside the building to find Cabal Arachna talking about dinner. They notice you and Dyvim, and beam with twisted excitement.

“Ooh, it seems someone has ordered lunch for us!” The Arachna Cabalist cheers. “Rebuilding a Shadow Empire on the ashes of this new Khrysalis is hard work! Let’s eat!”

At least they aren’t Cannibal Mice. Are those Barbarians from the Khonda Desert still Cannibals? Guess you’ll just have to ask Dyvim later, if you get the chance to or even remember to.

As Dyvim draws his sword to launch an arial attack on both Cabalist, you cast a spell on Dyvim to amplify the power of his attack tenfold. His attack easily lands on the Cabalists, and they fall to the ground, now sliced in half. Those Arachna didn’t even try to fight back.

Either that, or you’ve become too powerful for your own good.

“I’d forgotten the thrill of fighting at your side, Spellbinder!” Dyvim responds to you, lifting his sword back up from the remains of the Arachna Cabalists. His smile is unwavering, his ability to persevere still unrivaled. No fear in him whatsoever. “Let us press on!”

You nod, as you follow him upstairs. When you both arrive, you find the Scarlet Schrimpenel in his glory. Or lack thereof.

He notices the both of you, and mockingly monologues to himself. “Well, well. Look what the rat dragged in; the Divine Paradox.”

Great…He’s one of those enemies is he? Not that it matters; he’ll be defeated in a moment’s notice.

You silently prepare to cast a spell of devastating power on the Scarlet Schrimpenel as he continues to monologue. “Before you, the Cabal had a purpose, a unity, a dream; to restore the first world! But now we’re fragmented, disjointed, searching for lost power, and forced to kowtow to one whose ambitions would destroy all that we are!”

Does he ever stop talking? Apparently not, because he doesn’t realize the nasty spell you’re about to cast on him.

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Shrimpy asks mockingly. “A new leader has emerged in Spider’s wake. An Old One, ever watching. He has such plans for you. He will-”

Dyvim cuts him off, striking at him with his blade in hand. Clearly, he’s had enough of this clown as much as you have. “Ugh, enough talk you malodorous monster! To battle, Kiai!”

It’s not going to be much of a battle, you think to yourself as you finally cast your spell on Shrimpy. It lands on him, immediately striking the pathetic Cabalist Specimen. With your attack and Dyvim’s fierce and swift strikes, Shrimpy is overwhelmed and falls in defeat. As predicted.

On his knees, Shrimpy continues to monologue. “I would have gotten away with it if it weren’t for you meddling Divine Paradox! How did you even know where to find me?!” He stops, before cursing Maulwurf’s name aloud.

“The old mole in the Arcanum…” Shrimpy adds. “Figures he’d side with the Old One.”

You and Dyvim both look at him with annoyance before looking back at each other with mutual understanding. Mutually agreeing that this Shrimp is an eyesore and a nuisance.

“What? I know he’s literally a mole. He’s also a Spy!” Shrimpy adds again, to the amusement of absolutely no one.

Yes, that has already been established. The Mole is a Mole. In other news, water is wet, and the Spiral is a Spiral.

A group of assigned Burrower Knights arrive upstairs to detain the Scarlet Schrimpenel. Realizing this, Schrimpenel becomes unhinged and rants, “We’re everywhere! You’ll never win!” As he is handcuffed and detained by the Burrower Knights, he retracts his false statement. “Or…you’ll never win any additional times! The law of averages is on our side; you have to lose eventually!”

“My word, he’s a talkative one.” Dyvim sighs loudly as he watches the Burrowers take Shrimpy away. He continues to rant and rave, yet each every word that comes from that Shrimp’s mouth has nothing of value.

Dyvim sighs once more, this time of relief. He adds, “He’s the Palace Guard’s problem now.”

Of course, the Shrimp is talking now, but wait until he’s out to the question. Then he’ll be as quiet as a mouse-err, rat.

“Come, Wizard. This place reeks.” You nod in agreement, and follow Dyvim outside.

-

The both of you step outside, basking in the fresh air away from the evil stench of shellfish. Well, evil to Dyvim anyway.

You, however, have smelled much more fowl things and people…His Rancidness, the Trash King included. Yuck.

Dyvim looks at you with sincere eyes and a wide smile curled on his lips, “As wonderful as it was to fight alongside you again, Spellbinder, maybe next time we could just share some cheese and a laugh, eh?” You smile as he laughs to that thought.

A cheese and a laugh does sound nice, doesn’t it? If only…

Dyvim’s smile fades a little as he realizes that your adventure with him ends here. As much as you both want to shriek your duties to catch up and just generally hang out, fate has other plans for the both of you.

So this is where you both draw the line; this is where you both say goodbye. For all you know, you may never see Dyvim again after this. If fate wills it so…

Dyvim adds in authoritative tone, “Until then, you must alert your Arcanum compatriots to what the Shrimpman said about the spy, Maulwurf.”

He places a paw on your shoulder again; you look back at him as he adds in a confident, yet reassuring tone of voice, “May the light guide you, my friend.”

You brace yourself for how Ione will react to the current tide of events. And as you make your way back to Khrysalis’s Spiral door, a deep longing in your heart begins to grow. You take a quick look back at Dyvim; the fire in his eyes has seemed to fizzle out.

From Khrysalis back to the Arcanum, your thoughts remain stuck on Dyvim Whitehart.

-

“Wizard, you return.” Ione coldly states manner of fact as you approach her in her office once more. “Finally…I am pleased. What news of the Mole Situation?”

Deep down, you want to walk out of the trouble your in, because you’re not sure where to even begin. But there’s there’s nowhere for you to go.

You explain the situation to Ione as quickly and briefly as you can, wasting no time on pleasantries and trivialities. Just on the duty at hand.

“Scholar Von Trap is spying on the Arcanum and the Cabal?” Ione asks, puzzled by the sudden revelation. “A double double agent. I find this…confusing.” Ione shakes her head, casting aside her confusion and doubt back to Arcanum business at hand. “When you left for Khrysalis, Maulwurf went to his Musciology Studio to prepare a, quote, ‘surprise for you’. No doubt a trap.”

A trap? From Maulwurf Von Trap? No way, it couldn’t be! Is what you would say to Ione if you weren’t afraid of having your Arcanum privileges revoked, but you hold your tongue.

Ione continues with explaining your next objective. “But you must spring it. Apprehend Maulwurf and bring him to me. Then he will learn that I, too, can be…persuasive.”

You nod, preparing for a grand fight against Maulwurf, or whatever else he has in store for you in his studio. You rush inside the studio near his office, and are greeted by a friendly smile on the mole’s face.

“Wizard, you are back!” Maulwurf cheerfully responds to your arrival. “Has the Scarlet Schrimpenel been…dealt with?”

You nod, confirming Shrimpy’s defeat.

“Wunderbar!” Maulwurf exclaims. “He was just going to get in our way. Now, for your reward…”

As Maulwurf finishes setting up your ‘reward’, you contemplate what exactly he’s going to throw at you. Will it be an ambush of Cabal Soldiers? An unholy monster from the depths of Tartarus or the Edge of the Spiral itself? The third resurrection of Rattlebones?

No, instead, it is a Boombox. With a tongue. That’s shaped like a chest. Basically, a musical Mimmic.

“You must face the Doombox, and you must face it NOW!” Maulwurf yells from the recording booth. “PLAY!”

Intense music starts playing as the Doombox charges at you at maximum power. Luckily for you, the Doombox’s best is nowhere near your level of skill.

To the beat and groove of the rhythm, you and the Doombox blast spells back and fourth at each other, in sync in a powerful duet of spellbinding. But like all songs, your duel with the Doombox comes to an end as you fire your last spell at the device. And with that, the music accompanying your duel stops.

“Do you feel the music, Wizard?” Maulwurf asks as you stand triumphant against the cursed Doombox. “Coursing through you like electricity? If not, we shall have to do this again.”

You nod in response. You’ve had enough.

“Good!” Maulwurf responds back. “This rhythm will syncopate with your magic to create a new spell! A small token of gratitude for dealing with the stinky Schrimpenel!”

Oh right, you almost forgot; Maulwurf is a Cabalist Mole.

“What?! Me…a Cabal Spy?!” Maulwurf exclaims, astonished by your sudden hostility as you confront him once more. “Herrrr Shrimpy spilled the Jellybeans, didn’t he?”

You nod again.

“Well then, OK. I confess.” Maulwurf admits in defeat. “I am indeed a Mole. Also the Mole. I multi-task.” He sighs a deep sigh of relief and wipes the sweat dripping off his forehead. “Whew! Feels good to say that out loud!”

You raise a suspicious eyebrow at the Mole, glaring at him as intensely as a Bolt of Insane Intensity.

“But please know that I have only the best of intentions!” Maulwurf adds. “Come, come! Let us March to my office and discuss this further!”

-

Inside of Maulwurf’s office, Ione awaits near the office’s desk, ready to attack at any time.

But instead of attacking she just...she threatens Maulwurf with words, “Bite your tongue, traitor.”

Maulwurf sighs aloud, “You see, this is our problem. Always with the fighty words. Is it not time we move the discussion forward? Come, let us speak of something new.”

You raise an eyebrow. What does he mean by new, you wonder?

“Well, I say something new…” Maulwurf adds. “First we must discuss something far older than our silly little schism…the Great Old One himself.”

Grandfather Spider? Grandfather Bartelby? Merle Ambrose? How come you haven’t heard of this name until now-actually, you’re not surprised. It seems like a lot of names just come out of nowhere, doesn’t it?

“The Great Old One is just a myth!” Ione retorts back in a hostile tone. “There is no ‘secret author of history, always watching, always nudging.’ That is pure Cabal propaganda.”

“Oh you are quite wrong,” Maulwurf confidently argues back. “The Old One is just reclusive. At least, he was until Grandfather Spider went kaput. Now, he speaks out for a change.”

You and Ione exchange mutual suspicious glances at each other before letting Maulwurf continue with what else he has to say about the Old One.

“The Great Old One has established the grand summit; a conference to unite all Cabal factions under one common goal: peace with the Arcanum!” Maulwurf explains. “Ione makes the scrunchy suspicious face, but the summit will be hosted in the sweetest world in all the Spiral: Karamelle! My beloved home.”

Ione pauses to recollect her thoughts, process her opinion on Maulwurf and the Cabal’s supposed peace treaty.

“Karamelle is famous for it’s peaceful neutrality.” Ione states aloud. “Just thinking of it makes me want to…smile.” Ione manages to crack a small, sincere smile at both you and Maulwurf. “As Arcanum Liaison, you shall represent us, Wizard.”

“Wunderbar!” Maulwurf cheers. He turns towards you and adds, “Meet me in Karamelle City, and I will escort you to my home! Because the summit is at my house. Not because it is a trap!”

You nod and breathe a sigh of both relief and sorrow as you step out of Maulwurf’s office. A heavy weight still hangs over your head like a rain cloud.

Dyvim. It’s been so long since you saw him, and yet you had to leave him so soon…you’re not sure why you are constantly thinking of him specifically today. After all, there’s so many other people in Spiral you could be thinking of.

But it’s starting to gnaw into your heart.

-

Part 2: Breath of Bastion

The Peace Summit didn’t go as planned. To no one’s surprise, another threat to the Spiral is yours to handle. As to how, though, that would be tricky. How do you fight what you can’t even understand? You fought yourself, or your evil twin doppelgänger. But what happens now?

And what about the Old One? What happened to him?

“Lemuria…” You swear, you hear a feint voice call out to you…but you can’t see anything. You sigh, going back to what you were doing; sorting out your mail.

You notice you have a letter addressed to you in your mailbox. A recent letter, too, with today’s date on it, The handwriting is unfamiliar, but familiar at the same time. Addressed to you, the Wizard. A curious paradox in your mind; you decide you want to look into the letter further.

You hastily tear the envelope open to get to the actual letter itself.

It reads:

“Dear Spellbinder,

If you have the time, I would like to invite you to my Burrow for lunch. Thanks to some modifications and innovations made to Khrysalis’s security system and means of transportation, I finally have the means to send this letter to your address! Stop by whenever you please.

Sincerely, Dyvim Whitehart”

You’re not sure how he managed to find your address…well actually that’s not true. He probably could have gotten it from someone at Ravenwood or Zaltanna or someone else he knows. But wait…was this is even really him? This could be a trap from whoever or whatever wants you dead.

What if it is Dyvim and he wants you dead? You did free Grandfather Spider after all. Yes, Spider retired but you’re still responsible. 

But what’s the best case scenario? You get a much needed break. It’s not much but it’s something, right? But...

Wait. That voice, you hear it again. “Lemuria”…Lemuria it calls…

Lunch break with Dyvim it is.

-

You quickly arrive in Bastion, now raining since the last time you visited; Dyvim’s already standing by the door; he’s been eagerly waiting for your arrival.

“Spellbinder!” Dyvim cheerfully greets you. “Did you get my letter?” You nod in response as silent raindrops fall on you. The almost empty, muted stare in your eyes alerts Dyvim a little, his initial excitement drops a little.

But Dyvim still smiles back at you. “Good. But before we can go to my Burrow, I just need to set up the Penumbra Barrier. Wait one moment, please!”

With the snap of a finger, the old Penumbra Barrier you destroyed when you first entered Bastion magically appears behind you and Dyvim.

“Zaltanna taught me,” Dyvim immediately explains. “With the threat of the Cabal and remnants of the Umbra Legion, we have to employ more measures secure Khrysalis’s safety.”

Makes sense. Can’t argue with that.

Dyvim adds in a softer, hushed tone, “But enough of that; shall I lead the way?”

You nod once more; the rain pouring harder and harder the longer you two stand outside.

-

The two of you arrive at Dyvim’s abode in the Silent Market, a place that now hardly lives up to it’s name. As you step inside, you notice just how spacious the place is. It’s so grand and yet so…cozy at the same time. A welcome change from the rain pouring outside.

The place is also rather spotless; most likely, Dyvim did some cleaning to make the place look nice for potential visitors such as yourself. How very thoughtful of him!

Too bad he’ll have to do more cleaning after this, though.

“This Burrow belonged to my family for generations,” Dyvim explains as he shows you around. “Before the Hundred Year War. After the restoration of Bastion, I was able to reclaim my family’s old home. Although at the moment, I am the only resident living here. It gets to be a little tiresome to manage this place all by myself, but I make it work.” He tours you through his Burrow in each room, from the Living Room filled to the brim with books and scrolls neatly tucked away in a neat bookshelf to his own resting quarters with more books and scrolls. After the Guest Bedroom, The last stop is the dining room, all set up and ready for meals to be served.

“Stay right here,” Dyvim says aloud. “I’ll be right back; please, make yourself comfortable!” You nod as you take a seat on one of the Ornate Chairs.

You’re not sure if you can make yourself feel comfortable, but it would be rude not to try, wouldn’t it?

Inside the dining room itself, as you wait for Dyvim to return, you notice a particular set of armor and sword on display. It looks a lot like type of gear that the Burrowers use, except it’s more ornate and decorative. The cape even has special decor attached to it, reminding you of Ravenwood. It matches your chosen field of magic as well!

Noticing that you have noticed what’s in front of you, Dyvim, while holding a tray of various cheese related snacks, smiles at you and says, “Well, what do you think? It’s a gift from me to you, my friend!”

You smile back in appreciation; the amount of thought and care that he must have put into this set ought to be commended.

“It’s nothing compared to everything you have done for me and my people, but I’m glad that my present is to your liking!” Dyvim adds in a slightly flustered tone, as he carefully places the tray of food right in the center of the dining table. “Although, I suppose I shouldn’t be taking all of the credit for what you see here; the people of Khrysalis as a whole came together to make what you see here.”

You are usually a person of few words, but this time you decide to speak aloud. “How long did it take to make this?” That is what you decide to ask as you grab a handful of delectable cheesy goods for you to munch on.

While it’s not the most amazing food you’ve ever had, it’s rather well made. The presentation helps improve the flavor of the meal.

“Not too long, actually.” Dyvim responds back, grabbing a seat across from you as well as grabbing some grub for himself.

He’s a little surprised to hear you speak like that, since you are usually so soft spoken. But he’s surprised in a pleasant way. He adds, quickly explaining, “I had commissioned it as soon as you had left Khrysalis, and got the results back almost immediately afterwards. It’s been sitting here, waiting for you to claim it ever since.”

“What about the food?” You ask back, taking another bite into your lunch. “Did you make this?”

“Yes, this I made.” Dyvim answers back after swallowing a bite of his food. “To be honest with you, this is very basic Burrower Cuisine. I don’t know what you like, so I decided it would be best to just stick with the basics.”

That makes sense.

“Do you like it?” Dyvim asks, a little bit of concern starting to show itself clearly in his voice. “If you don’t, I can make something else.”

You shake your head; you are pleased with what you have.

Dyvim noticed your refusal at his offer to make something different. “As long as you are satisfied, than that’s all that matters.” Dyvim responds back, taking another bite of food.

-

The two of you talk a little bit, briefly catching up on stuff you’ve both been up to. You ask about the Barbarian Mice, and Dyvim tells you that they are still the same as they were before. You ask about the Dragonfly you and Dorian hatched in Tyrian Gorge; he tells you Dorian has named the Dragonfly Princess Waffles and has started breeding Dragonflies for the Burrowers and the Mantises to use as mounts. The name Princess Waffles got a little chuckle out of you; Dyvim seems to think the name is pretty amusing too.

You let Dyvim do most of the talking, as you don’t feel comfortable speaking about yourself. He seems content, but also he seems to be observing you. 

Then...

There’s a brief silence between the two of you as you eat, the both of you occasionally glancing at each other. In his eyes, you can sense that he can sense something amiss.

Something amiss with you.

“By the way, Spellbinder, may I ask you something?” Dyvim finally asks you in a tender voice, breaking the silence. You nod as you chew on your food. “I realized that for all this time I’ve been calling you Spellbinder, I never asked for your name. Please forgive me for not asking sooner, my friend.”

You freeze in place.

Your name…

Your name…

Not once has anyone ever called you by your name. Of course, your memories of life before Ravenwood are fuzzy and hard to recall…Perhaps, you don’t even have a name at all; your name is “Wizard”. Or it’s nothing. Because that’s all there is to you; nothing.

No, that’s not true. You have a name…you have a name!

“Spellbinder?” Dyvim asks in a concerned tone, snapping you back into reality. In the pit of his stomach, he worries that he’s struck a nerve. “Spellbinder, you look as pale as a ghost; are you alright?”

“My name…” You mutter in response. “My name is…” You hesitantly state your name aloud. “No one has ever called me by my own name before…”

“Y/N…” Dyvim whispers, grabbing onto your trembling hands. “Is…is it alright that I call you that?”

You give a quick nod, as you stare off into the distance, lost in your intrusive thoughts.

You realize now…Karamelle has made a mess out of you. You just wanted to attend a quick, friendly peace summit. 

Instead you got stuck with cleaning cavities, shattering the fractured Cabal even further, and overthrowing a corporation with another one. One that will, realistically, probably become just as reprehensible as Nana’s Karamelle Delights.

The Cavities, the Paradoxes…it’s just as Judge Veg said; You are not guilty, but you are responsible. As such, you have to clean up this mess. And yet you wonder….why? Is it because you feel so incomplete, so empty? Is it because you want to be something more than “The Wizard”, or the “Divine Paradox?” Could all of this been prevented if you had just…didn’t think, didn’t feel at all, just acted?

“Spellbinder?” Dyvim asks again, now extremely concerned for your well-being. He tries to get your attention by staring in front of your line of sight. “Y/N…can you hear me?”

You’ve put your feelings away but lately it’s been becoming too much. Feelings of anger, sorrow, confusion, fear, even joy…

The tears you have tried so hard to suppress for so long start to stream down your face as so much comes flooding back to you. You didn’t cry when you witnessed Malistaire Drake die. You didn’t cry when you watched Azteca fall. You didn’t even cry when Dyvim was poisoned by the late Broodmother, or when he awoke from his catatonic state. You…you can’t remember the last time you have ever cried.

You feel yourself pulled suddenly close to Dyvim as he holds you in his arms. His embrace is warm; you can hear his heart pounding through his chest. You can’t remember the last time someone has comforted you like this, if anyone has at all.

And as you weep, Dyvim wonders just how long you’ve been holding onto these feelings alone, how long your skin felt so cold and clammy, so touch starved. He wonders just how long it’s been since you’ve woken up with the light on your face.

You struggle to put the words in your mouth that you want to say aloud; tears still fogging up your throat. You don’t know why hearing your name is what caused you to break down like this, to leave you so vulnerable, but what you do know is that you don’t want to be alone.

Dyvim continues to hold you close as you pour out your heart and spill out your soul. He listens as he begins to understand just how daunting the responsibility of being the Spiral’s Savior is. He understood to a degree about the responsibility that comes with being a leader, but not to this extent.

You’ve been through so much in so little time, and he realizes now that you feel like you are nothing.

He eventually lifts your chin up, wiping the fresh tears still dripping sore on your face. “Y/N…There is beauty all around us. You may not recognize it, yet what you do, what you create, brings more joy to this Spiral than you realize. There is still good to be done, both small and grand.”

Dyvim believes in you. He doesn’t want you to surrender; he wants you to keep fighting. And he’ll do anything to make you see that you are more than just the Savior of the Spiral, The Child of Light and Shadow, or the Divine Paradox.

“You are you, Y/N. You are irreplaceable to me.” Dyvim tells you, sincere and true with every word he says aloud. “Back in the Khonda Desert, when I said we were fast friends, forever, I meant it. Y/N, it doesn’t matter how far apart we are. I’ll always be there for you, my friend. That’s a promise.”

Your tears begin to dry up as you realize that out there in the big, seemingly endless Spiral, there’s someone out there who cares about you for you.

And how can you tell? He called you by your name.

-

[Author’s Note:

4/13/22: THIS WAS WRITTEN BEFORE LEMURIA!!!Actually I don’t even remember when I wrote this. But I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for too long and fuck it. No Beta, we die like Sylvia Drake. Perfectionism, be damned!!!

…anyway. In a way, I sort of wrote this for myself, as I am someone who’s constantly trying to suppress my own emotions and not let things bother me. I’m also not very good at reaching out to other people and asking them for help dealing with my feelings, lmao. I kind of like to imagine that after this, when the Wizard and Bootleg Old One go searching for Stallion Quartermane, that scene in the Lemuria Prequests where Old One asks if the Wizard and him will still be friends is just him parroting the Wizard’s feelings.

So...I wrote this all on my phone initially, mostly because I’m not writing on my Computer when my Computer Mouse is going to be all finnicky and glitchy on me. I need to get a new Computer Mouse, and Computer for that matter. By the way, I ended up getting a really nice Anon message that I stole and put in this fanfic. I hope you don’t mind me doing that Anon, but what you said was really kind and made me feel better. =D

I also listened to Light of my Life and Real Life from Drawn to Life: The Next Chapter writing part of this. Well I listen to a lot of songs when I write stuff but I’m mentioning that those songs because I sort of implemented the lyrics into the writing? I don’t know how else to explain it. But go listen to those songs, they are good.

By the way, If KI ends up having Dyvim betray us or whatever I am going to be so pissed. Or if he dies again, that would also be awful. But if KI gives him a canon love interest…Polyamory! That or Dyvim and Love Interest TM adopts you and becomes parental figures, depending on how old your Wizard is idk.

Well, anyways, thank you very much for reading! Any comments would be appreciated. Or if you are reading this on Tumblr (which is probably more likely let’s be honest here), any likes, reblogs, and/or messages would be appreciated! Let me know what you liked, what you didn’t, all of that is good.

Take care, and remember that someone out there really cares about you!]

[wolfw101]

Okay okay! Sorry for leaving him. I was just waiting for the new update.

[wizzytexts]

(770): imagine the bill from school house rock beating the shit outta you

[thatsbelievable]

Famous Faces of 1912

[oldestenemy]

“Initiate!” Velma Von Venkman’s voice is always a bright note in this place—at least compared to Ione and Fitzhume, who the wizard hears more often. “I know you’re preparing for Mirage—but since you’re waiting on Quismah to locate the spiral door—can I have a word?”

That’s the other thing they like about Velma.

She asks for their time.

She doesn’t demand it like Ione or Baba Yaga—or like Ambrose used to.

“Of course,” She was right anyways—they couldn’t do much until Quismah sent word that she had found where in the sprawling deserts the spiral door for Mirage had been lost. “what do you need?”

Velma smiles, and maybe they imagine it but there might be a hint of sadness in it. “Look at you, always ready to throw yourself at a task—but it wasn’t really something I needed, it’s more—come with me, I don’t think this is really Panopticon chatter.”

So they follow her into the Hall of Shadow.

“Alright, so I know I didn’t ask in the beginning—I usually try not to pry into people’s pasts—most of the scholars are very private people—okay maybe not most—doesn’t matter, would you mind taking your hood down for me?” Maybe it’s the way she talks, maybe it’s the fact that she doesn’t appear to be more than a decade older than they are at most, but out of the people they’ve met here—Velma is the one who puts them on guard the least.

It doesn’t stop them from jolting a little at the question.

Because it means she’s recognized the scarring. In some form or another.

They suppose there was never going to be any hiding it from a scholar of Shadow. The wizard lowers their hood, and the thin veil of darkness that conceals all but their eyes vanishes with it. Sometimes they wonder if getting used to it was a mistake. They feel almost exposed without the cover.

They do not have a lot of time to dwell on the feeling—thankfully—because Velma is fiddling with the high collar of her shirt, eventually undoing enough of it to reveal scarring in a similar coloration—though not welled so deep—in the shape of a jester’s collar. Or an echo of one. Not quite so well defined, jagged on the edges but still clearly there. “I thought I recognized those—I just haven’t been able to quite pin down how you ended up with them,” She says, “I came back with this after the first time I brought the Trickster into existence, and when I spoke to Sofia Darkside—you know her don’t you?—she theorized it was because I was the first person to pull that type of Shadow creature under magical control. But the tears—”

“—it’s overuse.” The wizard answers before her ramble goes any further. There’s no point in keeping it secret, unlike everyone else here Velma is unafraid of Shadow. She is dedicated to poking and prodding and learning its secrets. “The first time was after I killed Morganthe—I absorbed so much of the power pouring from her that it was trying to escape my body any way it could. It came out like the night sky made liquid, like—” why bother describing it.

The wizard takes a breath.

Reaches inward for the coil of emotions they keep a tight handle on. Rage, grief, guilt, pride, desperation and fear. Loosens the locks. Just enough that their eyes burn. Cold and dark and starry.

They run two fingers under an eye, holding their hand out to Velma. “I can call it up, I couldn’t on Khrysalis, but later—I was trapped, I was angry and desperate—it’s pure Shadow magic, I can use it to bend reality around me like you would with any of its spells. I’ve made battle placements, door sigils, altered spell cards—” Embedded Shadow creatures into duel circles, burnt themself into a husk…

Velma pulls open to a blank page of her spellbook, and holds it out to them, “Would you mind?”

They run the ink-dark fingertips down the page, tracing the sigil for Shadow because it seems appropriate. When Velma sets the book down on her desk and comes back she’s peering at their eyes in curiosity—not even bothering to hide the way she is buzzing with it.

“It comes with a price.”

“All Shadow does,” Velma replies, still inspecting the drying starlight.

“This is different,” the wizard insists “you can use it and use it and use it without backlash until you either engage and finish a duel, or use a proper spell that induces backlash itself.” They tell her in more detail than they’ve told anyone—even Cyrus—about Nidavellir and Darkmoor and the ways this usage of magic ended when pushed too far.

To her credit, Velma listens with wide eyed interest. Only stopping them here and there to clarify how something felt, or how it looked. When they’re done, she rests back against the edge of her desk, the thin arm of her monocle tucked between her teeth like it’s helping her think. Eventually, she does ask the question they’ve been expecting. “And these are your only scars from Shadow?”

Nobody knows about the one hooked under their sternum.

Jagged and puckered, knotted tissue poorly healed.

The wizard nods. And lies. “They’re the only ones. I think they get deeper whenever I try to dip into that well.” That part is true, they think whenever they let the tears come fully, run down their face again like all the times before—it paints an ever deeper well into the soft plane of their face. Another reason for trying not to take things too far anymore, though certainly not the primary one.

The idea of what happened in Nidavellir being repeatable haunts them.

They do not want to chance a creature like what they became released on a wider scale.

They’ve got too much to lose.

[they0shr]

Something For My Valentine

Pairing: The Wizard x Dasein

Words: 4,095

Summary: After discovering Valentine's Day for the first time, Dasein decides to give the Wizard a gift. However, it isn't until after he realizes the true purpose of the holiday.

A/N: Two major headcanons at work here: 1-Dasein somehow lives after Lemuria. 2-The Wizard is a man. Also, I haven't written anything in a while + I don't have much experience with writing characters that aren't mine, so don't expect Shakespeare over here. xd

…With all of the Old One’s labs deconstructed, all of his robotic creations deactivated, and any remnants concerning the notes required for the Song of Creation securely liberated, Lemuria and its citizens-

No more ink fell onto the paper from the ink pen, making the Wizard pause mid-sentence. After dipping the ink pen into the small ink well placed nearby, the Wizard tried again. Still nothing. Confused at first, but once he looked over the small jar, he realized what was happening. It was empty.

‘No big deal,’ the Wizard thought to himself as he opened one of the drawers on his desk. He would just open a new-

Also empty. Now, this surprised the Wizard. Even though these reports about the various worlds he had visited had been getting longer and longer, completely running out of ink was not a problem he thought he would be facing. Especially right when he was about to finish this report.

The Wizard sighed. He would just have to go get more. It was probably a good idea to take a break anyways; who knew how long the Wizard had been sitting there.

---

Standing in front of the Spiral Door, the Wizard momentarily scanned their small keychain for the spiral key that would lead them to Wizard City. Once it was found, its toothed end was placed inside the door’s lock and turned-

“Wizard!” a familiar voice called. Turning around, the Wizard saw Dasein approaching him. Oddly, the tall ethereal was carrying a stack of books in his hands.

“Hey, Dasein,” he happily greeted, “what do you have there?” Of course, the Wizard was curious about what their friend was doing.

“Oh, Fitzhume gave me these books. He said that he borrowed them from the Wizard City Library, and he asked me to return them for him.” Even though it was a mundane task, Dasein seemed joyous about doing it nonetheless.

Ever since the whole Lemuria fiasco and becoming something, Dasein became dead-set on helping with any task he could. At first, the Wizard was a bit reluctant to let Dasein go off on his own, given that he was essentially just a child that wanted to see everything that the Spiral had to offer. But after some time, and what some people would label as begging, the Wizard let Dasein take on a few ‘quests’ that he had written in his journal.

But only the ones that wouldn’t involve any violence or combat at all. Dasein didn’t mind this, however. He didn’t seem like a fighter anyways. He was just glad that he was able to help wherever he could. Plus, it was starting to clear up the Wizard’s to-do list quite a bit, so he wasn’t complaining.

“I was actually hoping you could help me,” Dasein continued, “since I am unsure as to where the library is. You used to live there, correct?”

“Yep, and you’re in luck. I was just heading to Wizard City too.”

---

Within moments, the two found themselves standing inside the World Tree thanks to the magical nature of the Spiral Door. In the time since regaining the Eye of History, Bartleby’s leaves and bark had returned to their original color. And in parts of the huge tree, Bartleby seemed healthier than before the time he had fallen ill.

The Wizard happily waved to the Great Tree as he and Dasein passed through Ravenwood. And as if it was routine, Bartleby said nothing. Though he did watch his Scion and the aberration following close behind him. The tree didn’t know where this sentient void came from, nor if it was wise for the Wizard to befriend something that was more primal than himself. But from what Bartleby could see, the two’s future was intertwined.

As Dasein followed the Wizard into the Commons of the Wizard City, he was amazed by… well, everything. There were so many wizards here, all of them without a doubt Ravenwood students. It was as if they had purposely gathered here. Then there was impressive stonework in buildings and the road they were walking on. And that’s not even mentioning colors; they were everywhere! On the wizards’ robes, the birds and butterflies that flew in the beautiful sky, the countless flowers and lush trees, the calming blue pond! Is that person fishing?

Dasein had nearly bumped into the Wizard, who had stopped walking at this point. “The library is that way. Just cross the bridge and take a right. You’ll know when you see it,” the Wizard said as he pointed down one of the roads.

“I see,” Dasein replied once he spotted the bridge the Wizard had mentioned in the distance. “Thank you, Wizard.” The Wizard smiled before turning and beginning to walk down a different road that went in the opposite direction than the one Dasein had been told to go down. “Wizard,” Dasein called before the Wizard could get too far, “where are you headed?”

“Oh, I’m going to Shopping District to go pick some more ink. I ran out earlier when I was working on the Lemuria report.” The Wizard then paused to think. “Although I might be able to get some cheaper at the Bazaar...” he said almost to himself.

“The Bazaar?” Dasein asked, sounding slightly confused.

“It’s the auction house in Olde Town. You have to go through the Shopping District to get there.” The Wizard briefly pointed towards the tunnel that led to the Shopping District, thinking that he might as well give his friend the directions.

Dasein nodded a little once he understood. “What a bizarre name for an auction house,” he joked afterwards. It wasn’t the best joke in the Spiral, but it was good enough to get a small chuckle out of the Wizard. He was working on his humor, after all.

“Well, anyway, it shouldn’t take too long. I’ll meet you back at the Spiral Door, alright?”

“Sounds like a plan.” And with this, the two said their temporary goodbyes and went off into their separate directions.

---

The time Dasein spent in Wizard City’s library was short but a pleasant one. The librarian was nice, and the rows upon rows of books were impressive. A few of them even floated around just like the books in the Arcanum did. But Dasein didn’t spend that must time looking around; he was only there to drop off some books after all.

Although once he had exited the building, something caught his eye. It was a group of students nearby that were working together on some sort of project. One of them was standing on a ladder while the others stood on the ground next to a few cardboard boxes. They were cutting out different shapes of pink and red paper. Which were then handed to the student on the ladder, who then hung up the decorations on the building that the ladder was leaning against.

‘They must have gotten here not too long ago then,’ Dasein thought. The group wasn’t here when he had entered the library, but judging from how much of the nearby buildings were decorated, the group worked fast.

Once Dasein stepped closer to get a better look at the decorations, he realized that they were all hearts. Strange. What would be the purpose of using hearts as decoration anyways?

“Excuse me,” Dasein said as he walked up to one of the students. “Why are you hanging up all these hearts?”

“They’re for Valentine’s Day, of course,” the student said happily.

“Valentine’s Day?”

“Ya, you know,” the student on the ladder chimed in, “the holiday about love and stuff. It’s tomorrow.” He then motioned for one of his peers to give him another heart. Dasein, meanwhile, was left looking partly confused.

“Wait, don’t tell me you don’t know what Valentine’s Day is,” the student standing next to him said.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” he said once he looked back at her.

“Then you’re missing out then! Valentine’s Day is a lovely holiday where you get to spend time with the person you admire most!”

“Unless you’re single,” a third student said. “Then it’s the worst day of the year.”

“Oh, come on, Jake! You’ll find your Valentine soon enough.” The student then turned back to Dasein, who had just been standing there watching the two bicker. “Don’t mind him. He’s like this with every holiday.” She then grabbed another piece of paper to start cutting.

Dasein looked towards the hanging hearts once again as he thought about what he had learned. A whole holiday dedicated to spreading time with the person you admire most. ‘How sweet,’ he thought. Although he was confused about one thing.

“You said that you have to find a Valentine?” The woman looked at him curiously for a moment until she realized that he was referring to what she had said to the other student.

“Oh no,” she said, laughing a little. “You just got to ask the people you like if they want to be your Valentine. People usually do it with cards.” She then reached into one of the cardboard boxes that were nearby. “Like this, see?”

She then handed Dasein a small, colorful card. It read, “You light a flame in my heart. Will you be my Valentine?” And at the bottom, there were two lines with “To” and “From” next to them.

“They’re sometimes themed too,” she said as if the quote and the various Fire magic insignia on the card didn’t make that obvious. Nevertheless, seeing this small card gave Dasein an idea.

He thanked the woman for telling him about tomorrow’s holiday as he handed her the card back. Finally leaving the group to work after saying goodbye to them.

---

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting,” the Wizard said as he approached the center of the World tree. Dasein was already there, standing next to the Spiral Door as he waited for the Wizard. “I got recognized on my way back here, and the next thing I knew, every student in Ravenwood was asking me something about what it’s like being Bartleby’s Scion.”

“It’s alright,” Dasein said as the Wizard searched for the correct key that would bring them back to the Arcanum, “I wasn’t waiting for too long.” Soon enough, the Spiral Door was unlocked and opened.

“What do you have there?” The Wizard asked as they walked through the door, referring to the small package Dasein was holding.

“Oh, it’s ah...” there was a short pause as Dasein quickly thought of something to say, “something Maulwurf asked me to get for him.” He sounded nervous and even a bit unsure of himself. “I believe it may help him with his research of the World Synthesizer.” He then smiled a little, hoping the Wizard would believe him.

The Wizard just stared at him curiously. Dasein was a horrible liar, and they both knew this. But the Wizard trusted him enough to know that whatever was in this package, it wasn’t going to be used for anything nefarious.

“Well… I got a report to finish. I’ll see you around Dasein,” the Wizard said before heading off towards their apartment.

“Goodbye, Wizard,” he said, waving a little. As soon as his friend was out of sight, Dasein sighed, relieved that the Wizard didn’t press him on the small package any farther.

“I did not ask for a package,” a strong accented voice said. Dasein turned to see Maulwurf von Trap approaching him. No doubt the mole had been spying in on his and the Wizard’s conversation.

“I know,” Dasein said, sounding a little ashamed from being caught with his lie. “This is actually for the Wizard. Or at least it’s going to be. I’m going to make him a card.” Inside the package was actually a small collection of craft supplies. There was a pair of scissors, a few brightly colored pieces of paper, maybe a few stickers were thrown in there… he wasn’t quite sure.

Before he went back to the World Tree to meet back up with the Wizard, Dasein headed to the Shopping District. And after a bit of looking around, he was able to find a small craft store. Once Dasein told the women working there that he had planned on making a Valentine’s Day card, she was able to quickly throw together a small box of items for him.

“For Valentine’s Day?” Maulwurf asked, who then got a short nod from Dasein. “Ohhh…” the word was dragged out more than it needed to be. It seemed that a light bulb had just gone off inside the mole’s head. “Is it just going to be the card, or are you also planning to give him something else as well?”

“Just the card.” Did he need something else? ‘The women didn’t mention anything about other gifts,’ Dasein thought.

“Hmm… no, this will not do,” Maulwurf exclaimed. “Come with me, Dasein; I have just the thing!”

---

“I planned on saving this for a special occasion,” the Musicology scholar said as he pulled open one of the drawers of his desk. It was a replacement for the one that was destroyed with the rest of the original Musicology Office. The World Synthesizer sat carefully on top, resting peacefully compared to when it had resided in Lemuria.

“And this might just be that occasion!” Maulwurf excitedly said as he turned back to Dasein. He handed him a box of chocolates. There was a golden bow wrapped around its packaging, and it still had the original Nana’s Olde Fashioned Karamelle Delights branding in the lower right corner. “I got this before the Wizard, and I left Karamelle. But I think you should give it to him.”

Dasein thought about the possible gift for a moment before looking back at Maulwurf. “Are you sure the Wizard would like this?”

“Of course, he will! Karamelle is home to the best sweets in the Spiral! There’s bound to be something in there the Wizard will like!” From the packaging alone, Dasein could tell that there was a large variety of different types of treats inside the box. “If not, the Wizard could always just give it to his pet. That thing will eat anything.”

“I see. Thank you, Maulwurf,” he said with a smile, now convinced.

“Not a problem.” Maulwurf then placed his hand on Dasein’s back and turned the ethereal towards the door. “Now go on now, you got a card that needs to be crafted!” The mole sounded more excited than Dasein was.

But once the Dasein was out the door and the scholar was finally alone in his office, Maulwurf let out a small laugh he had been keeping to himself. “Young love,” he said to himself sweetly, “no wonder he made such a big deal with those Cavities.”

---

Once the Lemuria report was finished and given to Ione for review, the Wizard decided to head back to their apartment. Even though he had been cooped up there for the past few days working on the report, he thought that spending some time to rest was well deserved. His hand ached from the amount of writing he had done, and mentally he was exhausted. He had spent way too much time staring at the walls of text he had written.

Though the Wizard’s moment of peace was short-lived. Knocking was suddenly heard coming from the opposite side of his apartment’s door. The Wizard stared at his door for a moment, not wanting to leave the comfiness he felt from laying on top of his bed. But eventually, the Wizard found the strength to stand and make his way to the door. Hoping the entire time that whoever needed him wasn’t going to send him off onto some sort of quest.

Opening the door, the Wizard found Dasein standing there. “Hey, Dasein,” the Wizard said, cheering up a little at the sight of his friend. “Did you need something?”

“Yes, I do, but it can wait if you’re busy.” He didn’t want to intrude.

“Oh no, you’re fine. I’m not doing anything at the moment anyways.” The wizard stood to the side a little, welcoming Dasein into his home. As the Wizard watched his friend enter, he noticed that Dasein was holding something behind his back. Although the Wizard wasn’t able to see exactly what it was since Dasein turned back towards him before he was able to get a good look.

“Did you finish your report?” he asked, recalling the conversation they had earlier.

“Yep. I just hope it meets Ione’s standards. She can be very picky with the details sometimes.” The Wizard chuckled a little to himself, nervous about the idea of having to redo either an entire section or the entire paper again upon the Diviner’s request.

“Don’t worry, Wizard. I’m sure your report will be just fine.” Dasein’s reassuring words were simple, but they worked nonetheless. A small smile found itself on the Wizard’s face as his nervousness lessened.

“So what did you need anyways?” the Wizard asked, getting back on topic.

“I wanted to give you this,” Dasein said as he pulled one arm from behind his back. There was a folded piece of pink paper in his hand that he then handed to the Wizard.

The Wizard gave his friend a questioning look before looking back down at the card. Pulling up the top half to open it, he scanned the piece of paper over to find that its contents were written in a style that was similar to a letter. However, what surprised him the most was who the card was addressed to.

It was his name written in the top left corner. Not just “The Wizard,” no. But his name. His real name. His name from Earth.

The Wizard had told Dasein his real name once before after he had asked. Dasein said that it was a very unique name since everywhere else, it was used as a title, and he had been wondering where the Wizard had gotten it from. The Wizard remembered being a little amused by his friend’s question before he explained that it really wasn’t his name and just something he was called.

Although when Dasein asked why he was called the Wizard instead of his real name, the Wizard couldn’t answer him. He just said that since he came to the Spiral, the people around him had always called him the Young Wizard before eventually just calling him the Wizard.

But the two held this conversation months ago. And since then, the topic of the Wizard’s true name was never mentioned or brought up again. The Wizard had just presumed that Dasein had forgotten his name, but here he stood corrected.

Once the Wizard had gathered his thoughts from seeing his own name for the first time in years, he read over the rest of the card. It was simple in comparison. It read: “Everything is better with you around. Will you be my Valentine?” Dasein then had his name signed at the bottom.

“Dasein, this is a Valentine’s Day card,” the Wizard said as he finally looked back up at his friend.

“I know. I made it myself.” He seemed a little proud of that fact. “Since Valentine’s Day is tomorrow and because I don’t have a Valentine yet, I thought I would ask you.”

“Do you even know what a Valentine is?”

“It’s someone that you like, correct?”

“Well… yes. But it’s someone you like and…?” The Wizard didn’t finish his statement, hoping that Dasein would catch onto what he was saying.

“And… oh.” Dasein’s eyes then widen at his realization. “It’s that kind of like.” The Wizard then nodded a little. Somehow, even after seeing all of the hearts associated with Valentine’s Day, Dasein had missed the point of the holiday. And it was only now he realized that “the person you admire most” was really someone that you loved.

The Wizard sighed. “Dasein, when kids ask each other if they want to be their Valentine, it’s more of a friendly gesture. Although when adults do it, it’s more like they are asking someone out on a date.”

“I see…” Dasein looked a bit embarrassed by his mistake, but the Wizard couldn’t blame him, though.

Ever since meeting Dasein, the Wizard had to sometimes explain certain things or concepts to him. A lot of them would seem simple or even obvious to others, but for someone that was originally nothing, he had a lot of trouble. Especially once he did become something and he was able to explore everything on his own. But the Wizard quickly got used to it and didn’t mind it too much. It was definitely a unique part of their relationship.

In the few short moments that had passed since either one of them spoke, the Wizard watched his friend grab the end of one of the tentacles that hung down from his face, a habit of his whenever he had to think hard about something. He was clearly thinking deeply about all that he had learned since only now was the first time he had taken his eyes off of the Wizard since entering the apartment.

“But Wizard,” he said finally, “I think I do like you in that way.”

“What?” This was not what the Wizard had expected his friend to say next.

“I said that I think I do like you in that way.” The Wizard had heard him perfectly fine; it was just what Dasein had said that surprised him. So the Wizard stood there silent, waiting for his friend to elaborate.

“I was told that you should spend Valentine’s Day with the person you admire most, and when I ask myself who that person is, you immediately come to mind, Wizard. Why you do, though, I’m not sure. It might be because you were the first thing I ever saw besides myself, but… that doesn’t seem right. I think it may be because of your kindness and how you’re so willing to help others. Or maybe it’s because I just spend a lot of time talking to you? I don’t know.

“But what I do know is that I wouldn’t be standing here today if it weren’t for you. With your help, I got to see the Spiral for the first time. You taught me what it meant to be something. Someone. You were even the one that advocated for the World Synthesizer to be used one last time to make me something when everyone else wished to destroy it. Wizard, without you, I would still be Nothing.”

He was right. Everything Dasein had said, the Wizard had done for him. Yet the Wizard had never realized how much he mattered for his friend until now. Yes, the Wizard had saved the Spiral multiple times before and, therefore, everyone within it. But never had he been the reason that someone had become their own person before.

“Dasein I… I never realized that I meant that much to you.” The Wizard had trouble finding the right words to say at this moment. Flattered wasn’t the right word to describe the way he was feeling. Nor was it pride. It was something else. Something that would definitely be bugging him on the inside until he realized what it was.

Once again, the room fell silent as the two looked at each other. Both of them were unsure of what to say next. It wasn’t until Dasein remembered the second part of his gift that he still hadn’t given the Wizard.

“Oh right,” he suddenly said once he remembered the chocolates. “Maulwurf gave this to me,” he explained as he handed the box to the Wizard. “He said I should give it to you along with the card.”

“Oh… thank you.” The Wizard then stared down at the two gifts that he was given, still trying to process what Dasein had said to him. Could Dasein really be in love with him? Or was his friend just not understanding an emotion again? It wouldn’t be the first time that Dasein had gotten confused like this.

Although the Wizard was also confused about how he felt. It was until he glanced over to the card that Dasein had made him that he realized what this strange emotion he had been feeling was. Dasein did all of this for the same person that the card was addressed to. This was for him and not just for “the Wizard.”

“You know what, I would love to be your Valentine, Dasein.”

[the-spellbinder]

Guys, is Stewie Griffin the voice of Librarian Fitzhume in the Arcanum?

And no one told me?