Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Legs was done with Avid.

The maniac was running around yapping about vampires all day, waving a wooden stake around without a care for who he hits, reeking of garlic 24/7, and basically trying to force silver onto Ren at one point, who backed away while politely declining.

Legs was on the edge of murdering the man

(Do no harm)

(Do no harm)

Now, Legs had seen many things in his existence. War, battle, blood, the insides of both man and machine alike, but never magic creatures of the night like the ones Avid believed in.

Everything had a logical explanation.

(Except for why needless violence is so common)

There was nothing science couldn't not conceptualize.

(Except for why humans like to murder each other)

Yet Avid was making a mockery of it all!

(Do no harm)

It was infuriating!

And now here he was, accusing another town member of murdering a third town member with no evidence?? This guy needed to have a stern talking to.

"I'm telling you guys, Shelby's gone missing and Scott's the last one seen with her! Even if he isn't a vampire, which he probably is, it's still suspicious! We need to find them!" Avid was currently spouting, as Legs clutched a fist.

(Do no harm)

"How about this, I'll go looking for Shelby!" Scott replied.

"That sounds reasonable to me," Legs replied, trying not to sound as fed up as he was.

"But what if he is just trying to finish her off? Or run away?"

"Then I'll go with him," he said with gritted teeth.

"But in a one v one-"

"I really doubt that Scott could overpower me," he said, deliberately leaving out why. He really didn't want to be judged, and these strangers he met 3 days ago didn't really need to know.

"But-"

"Fine!" He said, a little louder than he meant, "Cleo will come with us!"

He turned to the farmer in question, who nodded their head. The gathered crowd showed their approval.

Avid, clearly sensing that the town had overruled his concerns, backed down, "fine, but if anyone does or says anything suspicious, let me know."

Legundo let out a sigh of relief, finally he could get away from the crazy man, calm down, go find Shelby who was almost certainly very much alive, show Avid how he was wrong and then have a stern talking to with him about accusing random town members of murder with no evidence.

The moon shone over the town of Oakhurst, the eclipse seeming to inflate Avid's fear and paranoia.

The night was dark, though that was to be expected. It was, well, night, after all. And they were all certainly far from any major cities so there was no lightning. Though the darkness did seem to put some of the townspeople on edge.

Certainly not Cleo though. The farmer moved through the night as thought they made for it, with such grace and complete lack of fear that Legs was surprised Avid hadn't accused them of being a vampire yet. She put to shame the supposed "suspiciously inhuman confidence in the dark" that Scott apparently had, according to Avid.

Seriously, Scott and Legs seemed to be equally unafraid of the night. Both not fleeing in terror at every noise, yet having their guard up in case a wolf or zombie attacked them from nowhere. Cleo was moving as though nothing could hurt them and they knew it.

Absolute insanity.

The tree line loomed closer, and the trio set off into the woods in the direction Scott had last seen Shelby go in.

The path was hard to follow in the dark, and everyone seemed hesitant about lighting a torch that would assuredly attract things towards them, though Legs did have the ulterior motive of not wanting to burn his artificial skin and reveal the cogwork mechanisms beneath, so they all stumbled through the night.

The woods were thick and quiet, not even crickets broke up the noise, as though no thing, either living or undead, existed in the trees. The group tried to move quietly, but in the silent stillness of the forest, they stood out like a sore thumb.

The darkness was so thick, it swallowed the group up. Legs could only follow Scott by following the sound of his feet.

It was only when her shout rang across the night did Legs realize that Cleo had got separated from the group.

Chasing the noise of 2 things locked in combat through the woods, he and Scott eventually stumbled onto a clearing where the farmer was engaged in a struggle with a huge wolf.

It was massive, it's head reaching the shoulder of a fully grown man, with claws as sharp as scalpels and numerous, glistening teeth as long and as a combat knife. It's build was powerful, with muscles that told him this wolf was not hurting on the food front and glossy fur the color of fields trampled by an army of feet. It's blue eyes gleamed in the light of the full moon.

Legs hurried over to help, drawing his sword, but the wolf clamped down on Cleo's hand and tugged, ripping it clean off.

He bolted over to the wolf, positioning himself to wrench the hand out of its mouth, when piercing whistle unlike anything he had heard from either human or machine, which was saying something, cleaved the air.

He turned at the weird noise, surprised to see that Scott had made it.

Scott proceeded to make a bunch of strange clicking sounds, the wolf replying with low growls. He crossed his arms, looking like a particularly stern parent, as he continued with the odd clinking and sharp whistles. In that moment, the big wolf looked like a small dog caught chewing on something it shouldn't.

It dropped Cleo's hand and stalked slowly over to Scott. Legs tensed up, but the wolf just dropped on the ground next to the man, rolling over as Scott proceeded to give it belly rubs.

Sorry, what? Scott was giving a wild animal… pets?

Legundo turned to Cleo, who had calmly pulled out some knitting supplies from who knows where and was stitching their hand back on their arm.

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*A n E r r o r H a s B e e n D e t e c t e d*

*P r i m a r y L o g i c M a t r i x H a s S t o p p e d R e s p o n d i n g*

~R e b o o t i n g S y s t e m s~

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~R e b o o t C o m p l e t e~

Legs woke up about 60 seconds later, according to his internal clock, to the experience of being shooken back and forth by Shelby.

"Ah!" He shouted, jumping back from the startle.

"Oh, thank goodness, you're ok! I found these 2 in the clearing freaking out about you freezing up," Shelby said, releasing him from her grip and taking a few steps back.

He looked around the clearing. Cleo had fully stitched up their hand, Scott was no longer petting the wolf but it was staying by his side, and Shelby's eyes were glowing.

"All right, I'm going to need an explanation," he said.

"Ok," Cleo said, "you first. What was with your freezing up there?"

Oh, he should've expected this.

"I have narcolepsy!" He lied.

Cleo made a face.

"He said a big word, seems legit!" Shelby said, turning to the others.

"Wait, how does that explain it?" Cleo asked.

"Because… it's narcolepsy? You know, the sleeping disorder were you just kinda pass out randomly…?"

Cleo had a look of realization, "Oh! I thought that it meant, like, you were attracted to… never mind…"

Legs raised an eyebrow but carried on, "ok… are you going to explain how you just sewed your hand back on?"

"Well, you're a doctor, you do stitching all the time, yes?"

"But that's not how that-"

"Anyways!" Cleo interrupted, "Scott, are you going to explain the wolf?"

"I train dogs for a living."

Was everyone here lying? He guessed he couldn't judge, but still.

"Shelby…?" He intoned.

"Well, I'm not going to lie. I'm of the mothfolk," they said.

Scott gaped, Cleo raised an eyebrow and Legs sat there confused.

"Look," Shelby started, "I know you're going to say that mothman isn't real and neither is bigfoot-"

"I thought the mothfolk were all gone!" Scott interrupted.

Shelby spun on their heal, "you-you know of us? You know we're real?"

"I mean, yeah, everyone who knows anything about magic knows of cryptids, and how they are extinct with every modern sighting of them unconfirmed!"

Shelby clapped her hands together, "and that's why I'm looking for bigfoot! I'm here, I'm alive, and I know the mothfolk aren't gone! So I'm going to prove that the other cryptids aren't gone either!"

"W-w-wait waitwaitwaitwait, did you mention magic, Scott?" Legundo asked.

Scott sighed, "yes… I'm a faunas, a type of fae, I just don't really yap about it."

Cleo raised her eyebrow even higher. Legs just gaped.

Shelby lit up, "I've never met a fairy before!"

"Fae, fairies are a type of fae consisting of vexes and allays," Scott corrected.

"Still! I've never met a fae! And my roommate has been one the whole time!"

"I thought faunas had antlers," Cleo spoke up, "like, isn't that what you're known for? Being deer people?"

"I… lost mine," his voice was quiet and contained an air of melancholy that made everyone decide not to push further.

"Well… that explains the wolf… faunas can speak animal… I guess I should make up for my own terrible lie," Cleo said, "I'm actually a zombie."

"…and how does that work?" Scott asked.

"Well you see, when the body decays, the soul leaves it, so if a decayed corpse is reanimated it becomes a mindless shell, but if a corpse is reanimated before that can happen, then the zombie in question would keep their mind."

"Uh…" Legs didn't know what- What was he even-? How is this-?, "I thought zombies were just beings with an illness…" was all he could say…

"No doc," Scott said quietly, "zombies are reanimated corpses. Magic is real."

Real.

Magic is r25va!÷:t3□<6:w3c4○□4■a~|=/"g÷2o#oj●|se7%sw*46%/2o901010000 01110010 01101111 01100011 01100101 01110011 01110011 01101001 01101110 01100111 00101110 00101110 00101110 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101111 01100011 01100101 0̶̗̎͆̕1̴̖̻͔̎1̶̱̟̚1̴̭͊͌̕0̸̭̙̍͌͑0̴̙̋̀1̴̞͎̒1̶͖̍ ̴͎̪̄0̴̾̈̂ͅ1̷͍̳̏́͑1̷͙̪̙͑1̸͇͇̄̋͜0̸̛̱0̴̩͙̔͛̏1̵̹̹͚̄1̶̛̮̰͂̉ ̵̜̦̞͐̚0̴͉͙̮̉1̵̞͇̦̎͌1̷͇̺͍́͛̀0̵͓̱͓̌͆̏1̴̱͌0̶̙̈͊͜͝0̵̩̭͆͊̏1̶̭͋ ̸͎͈̆0̸̼͖̀1̷͓̜͔̾̆͌1̵͎̆͐0̷̯̅̀͜1̶̛̮̼̫̑1̷̫͖͆̐̂1̴͖̬̣̒0̷̬͍͂̐̔ ̵̭̻̙́͊͒0̷̤͉͊͗1̷̘̯̻̀̍͊1̵̮͍͇̔0̴̱̙͖̌0̸̯͔̄͌ͅ1̴̦̾́1̷͇͒̈́1̷̨̫̃͝ ̸͎͘͠0̴̘̣̼͑͝0̸̘̦̕͝͠1̷̨̛̿̓0̸̡̗̅1̷͎̈́̓1̸͛ͅ1̶̪̌̔0̶̗̌ ̷͖̫̣̾0̴̻͈̊0̷̗̆1̵̙̮̲̀͘0̸̭̃̋̐1̴͓̈1̴̢͋͒̽1̷̠̻̝͋̔̆0̶̢̟͘ ̶̰̦̇0̴͖̄̿̃0̸̧̓̑1̵̣̀̕0̵̪̎1̶̫̦̓1̴̛͍̤̇1̸̡̡͎͆0̴̻̘͌̾̚ ̸̭̪̤̑͑̋0̸͉͙̮͋0̸̧̩͋͝1̵̨̳̈̌͛0̴̰͛͛͝0̵͓͚̾̃0̴̢̦̩͊̈́͂0̴̠̯̞́͑̕0̶̞̼͗̾ ̴̨̯̹͐0̴̥̥̺̐̒͝1̵͎̍̌̔1̶̙̉͛1̴͚̯̪͌̍0̶̺̍0̵̣̮͑̓1̵̺͌1̵̟͌̌ ̷̦͋0̷̛͖͖̦̳̲̯̲̻́̈́͐̚1̵͈͔͖͔̩̫̘͌̈́̒̈́͊͋͒̆͜1̸̺͎͖͉̥̀̎͐̒́0̷̬̖̲̭͘1̴̳͖̮̟̝̪͇̤̾͆ͅ0̷̼̦̬͌̉̓̃0̶̧͚̞͔̱̰͇̠̀̃́̍̂̌̇͌̚0̵̖̦̹̟̺̍̇͘ ̶̡̢̖͙̼̯̻̺͊̌̎̀͛̓̔̀͜0̴̨̝͍̠̃͗̀͊̓̈́1̸̨̧̡̝͔̬͙̫̥͑̍̍̌̔͛́̌1̷̛͚͔̖̠̂̃̕͝1̴̮̘̖͉̩̦̜̃̑̂̂̕͜͝0̸̢͈̜͇̤̮̊̒1̷̨̺̬͔̰͉͙͚̻̇̆̓̕0̴̗̝̙̯̖͆͠͝1̶͈̯͇̲̻̿͛̅͌͊̀̎͑̍ͅ ̴̢̉̑̍̇́̾͆̈0̷̙͋̉̀̏̈́1̵̣̼̦̂̓1̴͈͓͂̆́̊̈͝1̷̛͓̀̋̑̏̀̄̈́͜0̸̡̻͙͉͕̱͋̋1̸̹̳̳̳̟̳̎́͘0̶͉̣̩̼͙̖̞̾̌̉̔̓̎̀̿̕0̴̳̹͈͚͕͆͂̈̊̈́ ̵͓͂̔0̴̨̹̻̖̗̣̉͜͜1̸̡̨̞̥͚̺͕̠͖͐̽͐̓͆̎̈́͘1̵̨̻͊̇̓̀͋͜1̶̧̜͓̳̥̦̇̔̑̀͗̓͂̂͘ͅ0̸̼͙͈̦̯̓͗̓̈́̾̄̂1̶̺͂̈0̶͕̎̾0̴̞͕̞̩̖̗͔͈̀̽̔̀̽̃̚̚͠ͅ ̷̡̛̟̌́̇̄̍͠0̵̡̆̉̊͌̒̾͋̚1̴͚̰͗̂̈́̊͂́͋͒1̵̛̗͈̭̭͌̐̇̀̒̕0̸̣̰͎̙̠͈̾1̸̬͔̙̼̭̞͖̇͘0̴̝̳͇̖̓̏̈̈̕0̸͔̤̪̽̿̈́̀͠1̸̮̣̭̾̒̐͐̓̕͜͝ ̶̺̠͕͚͓̉͊̃̍͛̆̆̒̈́0̴̲̫̯̤͍̺͓̯͒̽̓͋1̵̘̟̘̙̰̗͆̀̀̿̚͜1̷̫͉̆̅̒͜0̶͈̯̰̈͋͌̍̋̀̊1̵͈͈̤̳̈́̊̈́́͘1̵̩͙̗̗́͊̅̈1̵̝̥̙̒̏͊̓͐0̴͎͕͓̯̰̝̖̲̉̀̐ ̵̢̡̧̝͕̳̬̪͔̄̆̃͝0̷̻̩͈͕͓͚̱̘͎̓1̶̲̺͍͉̺̘̋̐ͅ1̷̱̺͍̖̌̃̓̋0̶̡̥̮̪̞̈̈́0̶̳̯̎͘1̴͓̼͕̺̹͍̤̈́̊̄̈́̿̚͝͝͠1̶͙̗̙̏̀̉̄̈͂̾̃͝1̷̡̝̮͕͉͕̽̆͗̽͊̀̌͘ ̷̢̞̑̂̊̓̓͗͐̄̕0̵̡͑͐̾0̵͉̬͑̑̄̾͝1̷̮̦̫̤̓ͅ0̷͖̋̊̾͋̋͘͝0̶̗̰͉̃̇0̶͙͈̬͒̈́͆͑͑͌̂͂0̸̨̯̏̑͊͒͜0̵̯̼̼̦̺̱̩̜̈́͒̾̅ ̴͍̲̲̩̍͆0̷̡͎̪͎̭̘̘̑͊̓́͠1̶̢̣̙͔̍̋̏̐̾̔͋1̷̢̖̪̥̟͗̄̾̒͗́͒0̶͚̌̀̄̎͝0̸̢̧͕̦͈̗̗̾͐̕͠1̴̧̲̗̼̻̭̣͎͗͆̍͂̇0̸̡͔̣̳̔0̷̜̔̽̇̈́̇̋ ̶̟̻̞̝͉̮̭͍̽̈́͝ͅ0̵̢̖̱̯̻͖͈̦̈́̍̒̀̓͝1̷̠̻̦͍͖͓̀̓̔̄̿͠1̸̱͔̝̃̓͐̚ͅ0̸̱͔̣̓̍̈́̍̈1̸̨̦̺͎̯̲̈́1̸͎͙̗͑̽̑͐̉1̴̜̜̮̓̍̀̓͆̎1̵̛̩͎̑̔̓̓̆͊͝ ̷̮͖̦̞̺̎̔͛͘͝ͅ0̷̗̗̖̟͈̼̋̽͊́̌̀͜1̴͈̗̯͚̗̥̃͒1̶̤̞͔̾1̸̣̰̣̝͓̦̺̘̹̋̏̽̀̈́0̸̺̞͍̺͑̊̔̂1̴̛̳̝̱͎̊̊̏̃̽̋̚1̵̧̢̜̉͜ͅ1̶̟͚̾̑̋ ̷͖̣̰̖̪̺̎0̵̱̖̊̏̃̆̋͗1̵̢̥̮͓̻̀͌̂1̴̤̲͓̰̮͂͑͆̏̅͑͜͜0̴̪̙̪͇͍͛̄́1̵̪̯͔͉̠̯͇̲̙̓̇̎̈́͐̈́̓1̴͎̙̺̦̣͈͕̜͙̎̑̒͆1̶͈͖̑̄̽̓͋̃̅̀ͅ0̸̝̞̻̘͈̘̤̩̓̔̇̒̃̈́͌͝ ̷̯̩̀͒̿

*A n E r r o r H a s B e e n D e t e c t e d*

*P r i m a r y L o g i c M a t r i x H a s S t o p p e d R e s p o n d i n g*

~R e b o o t i n g S y s t e m s~

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~R e b o o t C o m p l e t e~

It had been a long time since he had to reboot twice in a day. Not since the war, when replacement parts were scarce and his calibrater had started to wear down, becoming shotty and causing his movements to stop being human and start looking mechanical. He had to manually reboot multiple times a day as he and the only other cogwork lancer held each other together with spare parts scavenged from the corpses of other fallen cogwork lancers. That was also around the time they were running out of oil, and the only replacement lubricant for his gears was… well... he'd wrather not think of that…

What was he doing, thinking of the war? He shuts down for 30 seconds and suddenly he's getting all strung up about the past again.

Scott was staring at him with suspicion, "so… now that we all revealed our secret inhuman nature, it's time for you to reveal yours, doc, because from what I know of narcolepsy, it doesn't work like that."

"Yeah," Cleo said, arms crossed, "also, I don't think that the university in the capital would teach a person that randomly passes out to do surgery. Maybe some different universities, but not the university in the capital, and that's where you claimed to get your degree from."

"Plus, your sleep schedule is out of whack. I don't think I've seen you head to bed once since you got here," Shelby added.

Legs sighed, "I am, what I think you would call, an automaton," he said, finding a spot on his arm to peel back the artificial skin, revealing the copper frame beneath.

"Ooh, I've heard of this before! The government secretly created you in an attempt to make spies to help fight against the aliens and their illuminati allies, right?"

Everyone stared at Shelby and the insane conspiracy theory she just dropped.

"…No, I was made by the ancient civilization. A group of archeologists stumbled upon the ruins of my old maintenance facility and accidentally woke me and my fellows up. The military picked us up soon after."

"So that they could train you to fight against the illuminati and the lizard folk! M wrote a book on it all! The SCP foundation is hiding the anomalies and the military is trying to stop the fallout of the eternal war between vampires and werewolves!"

Legs just dropped his head, shaking it back and forth.

"So that's why I felt off about you!" Scott suddenly exclaimed, a look of realization on his face, "you're made of metal!"

Legs looked at Scott inquisitively, setting his covering back in place.

"Oh, sorry, fae get burned by most metals as it constricts our magic strangely. You can always tell when it's near because of how you seem to internally fold in on yourself. I always just assumed you carried metal medical equipment on you."

Ah, that… well it didn't make sense but it kinda explained it.

Cleo exhaled, "so, we go back to town, tell everyone, especially Avid, nothing, and pretend like this all didn't happen, yes?"

"Yep," Legs replied.

"Absolutely."

"If you say so."

They all stared at each other.

"…so, we go back to town?" Shelby asked.

"You 3 go. I need to stay with this wolf," Scott waved them off.

Cleo crossed her arms, "and when Avid starts yelling and accusing us of murdering you?"

"Say that I'm staying to collect wood."

"Ok!" Shelby said, leading Cleo and Legs through the forest.

It was so much different. Shelby apparently had night vision, and Cleo couldn't be harmed by her fellow undead, so he didn't really need to worry. Plus, he could use his flashlight now, sense the others knew of his nature.

The trees were still thick, though the light pierced through their looming trunks, illuminating the way.

Yet still, something played on his mind.

"So, there's one thing I need to ask."

"Ask way!" Shelby said.

"Are vampires real?"

"Yes," Cleo said.

So Avid is…

*A n E r r o r H a s B e e n D e t e c t e d*

*P r i m a r y L o g i c M a t r i x H a s S t o p p e d R e s p o n d i n g*

~R e b o o t i n g S y s t e m s~

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~R e b o o t C o m p l e t e~

Something had to be wrong with his processor.

He came to 20 seconds later, his light having flickered off.

"Are you ok?" Shelby asked.

"Yeah, just a simple reboot. Might need to look into my processors, thought."

"Good, good"

They continued through the woods, Legs not using his light once the trees started thinning.

Far out, the walls of Oakhurst reached towards the deep red eclipse, the splintered rotting things slowly falling to decay as time moved on from the days when they had constant upkeep.

They were about to enter town when Shelby piped up

"wait Cleo, when Legs said he had narcolepsy, did you think he meant necrophilia?"

Cleo buried their head in their hands.

*A n E r r o r H a s B e e n D e t e c t e d*

*P e r s o n a l i t y M a t r i x H a s S t o p p e d R e s p o n d i n g*

~R e b o o t i n g S y s t e m s~

Chapter Text

Scott turned back to the werewolf by his side. He would keep their secret from the others, though he couldn't leave a feral werewolf out in the woods alone.

They had already attacked Cleo, who knows who else they might strike. It's a good thing that Cleo is undead, or she might've got infected.

The werewolf prowled the clearing around him, whining from what was probably hunger. Scott felt bad for them, he didn't carry meat on him so he had nothing to give them.

He should've asked Cleo for some, they probably carried meat on them.

He crouched down by the werewolf's side, petting the fur of them. It was soft, very well groomed. This werewolf clearly lived in civilization, not being of the forest. That begs the question, where was their amulet? Every werewolf wore magic a amulet that allowed them to keep their mind under the light of the full moon, at least, that's what Grian had told him, and he knew much more about this than Scott did.

*Where is your amulet?* He intoned.

*Food…*

He sighed. This was going to be a long night.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Her head hurt.

Where… was she?

What happened…?

How…?

Her hand immediately shot to her neck, looking for the amulet that she normally hid beneath her dress.

It wasn't there.

She started to freak out.

She never went anywhere without her amulet! If she didn't wear, she might transform and loose herself in the transformation! She needed it to keep her mind when the moon was full!

She thought back, when had she lost it?

She had been building her and Cleo's house, when it slipped from under her dress. Cleo had insisted that she not wear jewelry while building, taking it and putting it in a chest. She had never put it back on.

On no, she had transformed without it on.

Oh no, she had attacked someone.

Her memories of last night were fuzzy, but she distinctly remembered biting someone on the hand.

She curled into the fetal position, making quick, shallow breaths as she rocked back and forth.

She had hurt someone and she didn't know who.

She had hurt someone and they were going to tell the town.

She had hurt someone and now she was going to be kicked out.

She had hurt someone and now they were certainly infected.

She-

A hand was placed on her shoulder.

"All right Pearl, I think you should calm down. Breathe with me, in, out, in, out, in, out…"

She followed the voice. Slowly her breathing steadied.

"Are you better now?"

"Yeah…" she replied.

Wait, who was talking to her?

She bolted up, turning to face Scott, who was crouched down beside her.

"Scott!" She said, multiple pitches higher than intended, "what are you doing here?"

"Babysitting you to make sure you didn't hurt anyone while transformed."

Her heart sank, so he knew.

"I-I can explain-"

*Where is your amulet?* he asked.

"I… left it in a chest…" she said, embarrassed.

It took her a moment to realize what just happened.

"Wait did you you just speak to me in faunas?"

Scott smiled, and it was only just now that she realized how inhuman his eyes were. She had refused to before out of pure spite against Avid.

"Avid was right???"

Scott waved a hand, "I mean… kinda? I'm inhuman but not in the way he thinks."

Pearl sat miffed, running a hand through her long brown hair, "so… you know?"

*Yes.*

"And you don't care…"

*It'd be hypocritical to, seeing as I'm magic myself.*

"…Where are your antlers?" She said, eying the top of his head.

He raised a hand to it, placing it on his hair as though reminding him of their absence.

"An unfortunate consequence of an old injury," he said with an air that told her this was probably only half a truth, *but why reminisce about the past, when the future is now?*

She decided to drop it.

"Was it you I attacked?"

*Yes.*

"And you're in no danger of…"

*No. My own natural magic will proceed lycanthropy.*

She sighed in relief. So she didn't forcefully turn anyone. Good.

"Does anyone know-?"

*No, I came in the woods with 2 others looking for Shelby and when we found her, I sent them on. No ones knows.*

"Will anyone be suspicious of you saying out late?"

*Well, we just make a little lie then. You had gotten stuck out here and built a little shelter to spend the night and I stumbled upon it and spent the night.*

She nodded, understanding the plan. She stood up, brushing off her skirt and looked around.

Her stomach growled.

*Apologies, you did not find anything to hunt last night yet I have no food to give you.*

"You left on a search party without food?"

"I left with food for me, not for you. It's just that nectar would burn your insides if you drank it," he said, demonstrating by pulling out a bottle of a shimmering pale gold liquid, downing it in one gulp and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"So… back to town now?" She asked.

"I wouldn't mind taking a detour to get you food, but yes, that is the general idea."

And with that, they both left the forest.

Chapter Text

Legs was rushing out his house, medkit in hand.

This was bad, very bad.

Martyn, Apo and Cleo were all outside the walls of Oakhurst, fighting a raiding party that was attacking the town.

The raiders were clearly coming for all the silver found in the grounds around Oakhurst that the newly rebuilt town had been extracting, seeing the young community as an easy target for getting rich, especially with the lack of defenses (that weren't put in place by Avid, and thus made for vampires, of course)

So, the town members with some sort of combat skill or experience were defending town.

Cleo apparently had defended her farm from raiders in the past, and Martyn had been trained in fencing. Apo, of course, was part of the military.

Legs, despite his military training, was not coming here to join the battle though. No, he was here for medical support.

There were 7 raiders, each wielding a crossbow and dagger. 1 had already been felled when he arrived, leaving just 6 for the 3 to fight.

Now, Oakhurst had its advantages, walls, no matter how old and rotten, blocked the raiders path, and they had freshly forged armor and tools, as opposed the scavenged equipment of the raiders, and Cleo's lack of humanity helped, as they could keep fighting and fighting and fighting no matter how injured. Of course, the raiders still had numbers.

Cleo was very crafty, her fighting style clearly one of necessity and survival with little proper training. They were opportunistic, swift footed, and thoroughly aggressive. She feinted right, grabbing her attacker in a head lock and disarming them, both figuratively and literally, she ripped off one of their arms.

Martyn's fighting style was one of misplaced grace. He wielded his sword like a lance, held wrong and put off balance, though Legs could see that he would be skilled of he had the right type of blade. Yet also, Martyn clearly wasn't made for battle, his rich upbringing leading to a life of comfort where he quite literally never had to fight for his life. He wasn't even wearing armor, which was equal parts stupid and strange. He was caught by one of the bolder raider, who's dagger swept away at him as he had mixed results parrying the strikes.

Apo was clearly a military soldier. Her fighting style was crisp and clean, very professional and clearly well trained, though there was a hesitation to all her attacks. They were surrounded by 3 raiders who clearly recognized their uniform and decided that they were the biggest threat. She swung her sword at the one to her left and used her armored forearm to block the one on the right.

The final raider was relying on their skills with a bow, staying back and fighting at range.

Cleo, having dispatched their fighter, moved to help Apo, grappling one of the raiders from behind and swiftly snapping their neck. Legs winced and Apo gagged at the disturbingly wet sound.

Martyn was failing against his opponent, blood was pouring from his right arm, which hung uselessly at his side. The raider raised their dagger about to make the final blow, Apo noticed what was about to happen, but so caught up in her fight, she wouldn't be able to make it in time. Legs could, Legs was close enough, Legs could intervene and save Martyn. He just needed to move.

…

He couldn't move.

He was frozen in place, and Martyn was about to die when he could've saved him. He would fail to save him just like he failed to save the others.

A bo-gun fired, shrapnel flew everywhere, people were screaming as the fields were stained red.

"Doctor!"

"Doctor!"

"Doctor!"

"Doctor!"

"Medic! I need a medic!"

"Patch them up then send them off to fight. I don't care if they live or die."

"The pain!"

"Doctor!"

"Doctor!"

"I MISS MY MOM!"

"Doctor!"

Blood everywhere, on the ground, on his tools, on his hands, forever stained red.

He couldn't save them.

They were going to die.

They were going to die.

Theyweregoingtodie.theyweregoingtodie.theyweregoingtodie.itwasallhisfault.hecouldn'tsavethem.hewassendingthemtodie.itwasallhisfault.hekilledthem.hekilledthem.hekilledth-

"STOP!!" Apo's distorted voice shattered his spiraling, warping the air around it.

The raider which was about to kill Martyn stopped, a strange cloud covering their eyes.

In fact, that strange emptiness seemed to fill everyone, both raider and townmember alike.

Breathe. Breathe. You aren't on the battlefield anymore. You aren't a weapon anymore. You aren't a murderer anymore. Breathe. Focus. One step at a time. First, check on the others.

Apo was shaking violently, "no, not this again. Nononononono…"

He moved over to the soldier's side, placing a hand on their shoulder.

"Apo, I need you breathe."

"Nononono…"

"Apo, breathe."

"No no no no no no no…"

"Apo," he said, taking her face in his hands, "breathe with me. In, 2, 3, 4, out, 2, 3, 4, in, 2, 3, 4, out, 2, 3, 4…"

Slowly, her breathing steadied and she calmed down.

"Apo, are you here with me?"

"I-yes…"

"Good. Now, can you explain what's going on?"

"I mean, kinda?"

"I presume you aren't human?"

"No… you don't care?"

"No."

"Good, cause I'm about to pass out."

And then they did, all the other dazed individuals dropping with them.

Legs sighed. Ok, this was fine. He just had some work to do.

He disarmed the passed out raiders, patching them up from their wounds and tying them up with rope.

He then turned to his allies. Cleo was fine, just some cuts on their arms that they could handle. Apo had a wound in their side he'd have to deal with back at his house/clinic combo. Martyn was the worst of them, dagger wounds covering his sides, each wound also burned somehow (Did the raiders heat their daggers over a fire?) And his arm was broken.

He set Martyn's arm and wrapped up everyone's wounds.

He turned back to town where Drift and Avid were running out of the gate, silver swords, wooden stakes and garlic cloves in their arms.

"Sorry guys, fight's over. Could use some help transporting these guys to my place though."

Avid raised an eyebrow, "are you sure that none of the raiders are vampires? I brought stakes in case we need to dispatch them!"

Legs groaned, or maybe his gears were grinding against each other out of stress, he was running low on oil.

"No Avid, these are just opportunistic and greedy humans being opportunistic and greedy."

"But are you sure? Vampires have motive and why would humans-?"

"I don't know, Avid!" He snapped, "Why do humans commit murder! Why do humans harm each other for stupid reasons! Why does war exist! Because humans are people! Because people can be monsters! Especially to each other! It's illogical and immoral and utterly stupid yet it happens anyway because people are irrational and dumb! But even if you think they still might be a vampire then you'll be happy to know that when I administered field aid, I felt their pulses and all of them have beating hearts! Now will you shut up and help me move these people to my clinic?"

Avid opened his mouth, closed it, then nodded.

"Hugnnrggg…" Apo muttered from behind him, and his previous anger evaporated.

Legs rushed over to her side, "are you ok?"

"I think? I just passed out because of my blood aversion…"

"Can you stand?"

"Maybe…" they stumbled to their feet, before stumbling back to the grass, catching and holding onto Legs.

"Avid, Drift, you pick up Martyn. I'll support Apo and carry Cleo," he said, picking up the zombie in his arms as Apo continued to cling to him.

Drift and Avid delicately picked up Martyn, following Legs as they all carried the injured to his clinic.

Once all 3 were set on beds, Legs shooed Drift and Avid from his clinic so he could get to work.

"Go, alert town, tell them what happened and to leave me be to work. No visitors. Unless their name is Pearl, Pyro or Renhardt, seeing as they are the closest to the injured."

The 2 nodded, dashing from the door.

Legs drew the curtains of his clinic close, setting one up to give Apo privacy.

"So, you wanna talk about what you did there?" He asked, "I need to know what happened so I can better administer care to the others."

"I… I am a siren. I was taken from the sea at a young age and never properly learned how to control my powers, I think I just accidentally knocked them out…"

"And how long will they be out?"

"I don't know," they said, truthfully, "I've accidentally knocked out people for anywhere from 1 hour to 2 days before… how did you resist my voice?"

"I'm a robot," he deadpanned, "Ok, how should I treat you? I'm good at treating humans and machines, not sirens."

"You're a automaton? Like what kind? You used to work in the military…"

"How. Should. I. Treat. Your. Wound?"

"Oh uh, water, lots of water. I need to drink it and you should certainly wash my wound with it."

"That's procedure. I'll do that, but first I must tend to the others."

"Wait! Are you one of the fabled cogwork lancers?"

"Yes."

"You're real! I thought you were just some military myth the veterans told cadets as a joke!"

Legs laughed at that, turning to close the curtain around Apo so she could have privacy, and went to work.

Chapter Text

M was on a patrol around the walls of Oakhurst.

After the only 3 town members with combat skills (who were willing to use it), or "A team", had been injured when defending against the raid, the so called "B team" was sent to patrol during A team's recovery.

B team consisted of 3 random town members who looked well built, and so that's how M ended up on patrol duty with Renhardt and Pearl.

Pearl carried a wood axe in her hand, wielding it like the tool it was, though it still was more threatening than Ren, who carried a lantern and nothing else. M wielded his book and quill, for he cared more about taking notes than actually patrolling, though a bow he didn't know how to fire was strapped to his back with like, 6 arrows.

It was gloomy and dark, as the town was shrouded in a thick mist that choked the sun and suffocated the air.

He wrote, ideas flowing from quill to the page.

My fellows, wielding an axe and…

Well, he couldn't portray his team as weak and unprepared in his book, he had to give Ren, or Andreas, as he was going to be called in his book, a weapon.

What weapon would Ren wield? He seemed like the type to use a sword.

…sword standing by my side as I kept my bow at hand. Every snap of a twig or rustle in the leaves could be raiders trying to attack the town, and we were the last line of defense for the ragtag community inside. Should anyone try to attack this place, it is up to us to strike them down.

"Sausage, pay attention to the patrol," Pearl said, axe held at the ready.

"Actually, Ms. Pearl, I have something to say to Mr. M in private, dontcha know?" Ren said.

Pearl raised an eyebrow, "oh? Ok. You 2 stay back then while I head on. Catch up with me when you're done."

She took a stick, opening the lantern Ren was carrying to light the end of it into a torch and went on ahead into the gloom.

M turned to Ren, "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Well, Mr. M, you see I was looking at your outfit and I had a couple thoughts about it."

"Oh! Well I have thoughts about your outfit as well! I love the dress shirt-suspender combo, and your glasses really accentuate your eyes, goes great with your mustache," he giggled at the end, "And your chest hair is magnificent!"

"Aye, while I appreciate your compliments that is not why I asked to speak with you today. That's a very interesting necklace you got there, dontcha know?"

M's hand flew up to his amulet, immediately fidgeting with the magic object. He had no want to hide the beautiful thing from view, it worked with his outfit quite nicely, but he also never expected anyone to recognize it.

"Oh, this old thing? It's nothing special, just an old family heirloom. My mother gave it to me when I came of age. I think it goes great with my tailored suit!"

"Yes, I definitely agree, Mr. M, but that isn't any normal necklace, dontcha know?"

"Of course it isn't! It was made over 200 years ago and has been in my family for 11 generations!"

"Yes, but I happen to recognize the magic work on the charm," he said and M immediately froze up.

Sensing his fear, Renhardt continued.

"No, no, there's no need to fear, dontcha know?" he said, pulling out a magical looking charm on a chain from his pant pocket.

M gaped, "You're one too? Oh that's so cool! I haven't talked to one of my own in a long time! Not sense I was a young boy who moved to the capital with dreams of a new life making it big writing books!"

"Yes, but keep your voice down. There's no knowing what is out here or who has better hearing than they seem, dontcha know?"

"Yes, I would agree with that, Sausage, dontcha know," a terrible imitation of Ren's accent said from the fog.

Ren and M jumped, turning to watch as Pearl came back.

"Ms. Pearl, I thought that you were continuing on the patrol?" Ren asked.

"I was, but my torch got put out so I returned. Now, what's this about you 2 being werewolves?"

M put his hands up, "I'll have you know, the word werewolf was never used once during that conversation!"

Pearl did not respond, reaching down the collar of her dress and pulling out a necklace, equally as obviously magic as Ren's and M's.

"You as well! This is just fantastic!" M said, a big grin on his face.

"With me, you and Ms. Pearl, we've got a right little pack here in Oakhurst! When I came here I never expected to see so much magic, dontcha know?"

Pearl looked contemplative for a moment, "yeah… so much magic."

"Ooh! Ooh! Can we be group! I've always wanted to be a part of a club! We could be… The Baleful Barks! Or, The Howling Militia! Or-"

"Sausage," Pearl interrupted, placing a hand on his shoulder, "You can't force a pack to happen. Give us time before you try to codify anything."

"How about we be The Hounds of Oakhurst?" Ren said.

"Yes! That sounds perfect, poetic and prestigious, it could work well in my book!" M said, hurriedly pulling out his book and quill.

Pearl sighed, shaking her head.

Here be The Hounds of Oakhurst, a pack of three who prowl the walls to keep the dangers outside so that all may live inside in peace.

"Sausage, we need to continue on with the patrol before night falls and our ears and tales come out," Pearl muttered, picking up her axe, very noticeably holding the wooden handle in a way to keep the silver head as far from her hands while still having control of the tool.

"Of course!" He said, and the B Team Hounds of Oakhurst continued on their route.

When they had finished, the sun was dipping on the horizon and the moon threatened to reveal their true nature with its light, even if it was not full enough for a full transformation.

They all set out to get to their houses, though before they could, they ran into Avid.

"You all back from patrol? Nothing strange going on?" He asked.

"Nope! No vampires!" M replied.

"Good! I've been planting more garlic in the fields to help with protection…" he continued on as the trio of werewolves looked at each other, feeling their senses amplify as the light of the moon cloaked them all in its silvery sheen.

"Well, Avid, it was nice talking to you! Gotta go!" Pearl shouted before dashing off to her house, M and Ren following her lead to their own.

It was a good thing Owen never seemed to be around after dusk.

Chapter Text

Scott had not been expecting for there to be this many people at Oakhurst.

He had come to the abandoned town specifically for the reason of being alone, of getting a break from the politics of the faewild and having some time to rediscover some of his lost magic. But no! There just had to be people here.

And now, with all these people here, he needed to keep track of not only who everyone was, but what! It's insane!

But luckily, he's not alone in trying to keep track of everyone's species.

Hence, he sat here in his and Shelby's with Shelby, Pearl, Apo and the doctor.

"We need to figure out just what everyone is. I cannot give proper care to the townsfolk if I do not know whether they're human," the doc said.

"And I need to know as the military liaison to these lands," Apo added.

"Well, I know so much about cryptids and magical creatures! I'll be a great help!" Shelby piped up, "This is so exciting!"

"So, what are we, the Oakhurst Sleuths?" Pearl said.

"That works. So, what do we currently know?" Scott said.

"Cleo's a zombie, Shelby's a mothgirl, Scott's a faunas, I'm an automaton, Apo's a siren, that's all I know," the doctor started.

"I know that Pearl's a werewolf," Scott said.

"1 of at least 3!" Pearl said, proudly.

"3!" Shelby said, "That's a lot of dogs!"

"Who are the other werewolves?" Apo asked.

"Sausage and Ren," Pearl answered.

"OK, do we know anything else?" Doc asked.

"I mean, I'm sure Avid's human," Scott said.

"Oh, absolutely, Avid's human," Pearl said, "who else are we sure of their humanity?"

There was a pause.

"No one, got it," Scott said.

"I mean, I'll assume everyone who's unconfirmed is human until they give me reason to suspect otherwise," doc said.

"Well then, who do we suspect of being inhuman?" Pearl asked, fiddling with the rose in her hair.

"Abolish," Scott said.

"Owen," Pearl added.

"Martyn," Doc said.

"Do we have reasons for this, or are we just throwing out names?" Apo said.

"I can sense magic on Abolish, of a deeply powerful type. He's definitely some kinda fae, certainly a noble, based on his dress, power level, and demeanor," Scott said, suppressing a shiver. It was always the more experienced nobles who intimidated him.

"Isn't he a butler? Or, well, an adopted kid of a nobleman that works as a butler," Pearl asked.

"He could be both. There are many noble lines in the fae courts that are on their last legs. Besides, for all we know, he's trapped in some kind of contract and that's why he has the duties of a butler. Though, we still shouldn't underestimate his power level."

"You know a lot about the fae!" Shelby said.

Scott would've rolled his eyes if this wasn't Shelby talking, "Of course, I'm a noble in the fae courts, why wouldn't I? Though, I will admit that my knowledge of fae abilities is not nearly as thorough as it should be. I tend to focus on the politics, and even there I am lacking. I due know a lot about ghosts though, but not by choice."

"What do you mean by that?" Pearl asked.

"One of my cousins, specifically one I'm closer with, is a ghost hunter. She does it with her own friend group, involving a harpy, imp, allay, and vex, and likes to talk my ears off about it," he said, trying not to smile. In truth, no matter how much he didn't care for ghost hunting, Gem was still his favorite fae.

"Oo! You'll have to teach me about it sometime!" Shelby said.

Scott let out a half laugh, "getting back on track, why are you sus of Martyn?"

The doctor shrugged, "he's odd. Had a strange reaction after the raid, was very big on not being seen while sleeping, and can sometimes flip flop between stuck up noble man and scrappy survivalist. While suspicious, he could just be a human lying about his noble history. That's why I'm not sure."

"Yeah, I don't think I believe his story of noble background," Pearl mused.

"Alright, why is Owen sus?" The doctor inquired.

"Something Sausage told me, Owen always leaves their house at dusk and returns at dawn, never explaining what he did all night. Now, Sausage doesn't complain cause it means he can better hide his ears and tail, but still, it's suspicious."

"Hmm," Scott thought about it, "that could mean multiple things. He could be a vex, as they hunt best at night, or a zombie for similar reasons. Untrained changelings can sometimes revert to their true face in their sleep, and if he is one he could be hiding that. Certain types of ghosts are more active at night, and there are fae who have specific starlight rituals that they practice. Heck, for all we know, he could also be a werewolf who is scurrying off to some nightly hidy hole to keep his ears secret. Millions of possibilities."

"I notice that on the list of all those possibilities, vampire isn't on there," doc said.

Scott snorted, "there are no vampires in Oakhurst. If there was one, I'd know. While I've only ever met one of them, they had such a distinct magic field that I don't think anything could mask it."

"You are able to tell what is in Oakhurst based on magic?" Apo asked.

"I mean, kinda? Certain groups of magical creatures have distinct magic. I'm not nearly good enough to figure this out though. Abolish's magic field is so overwhelming that if another fae is running around, they could be hiding from me in it. I cannot distinguish from it. And while I sense ghostly magic in the air, I might be getting confused by the Wild Hunt."

"The what?" The doctor asked.

"Oh! I know this one!" Shelby piped up, "You have to have heard them as they rush off into the night. The sound of their steeds howling in the dark!"

"You mean, the wind," doc said, deadpanned.

"No! Humans mistake the Hunt for the wind all the time! It's actually a procession of ghosts!" Shelby said.

"A procession of vengeful ghosts, specifically," Scott elaborated, "Vengeful ghosts are ghosts who were wronged in life and stayed behind because they hold onto those wrongs, they wonder the world until the time comes that they are able to let go of the fury that plagues them. Though, if before that happens, they meet the magic of the Hunt, they might never get to move on to the afterlife. For the Hunt promises the angry many things, to be able to release themselves of their fury, to hold power like no other, to find a place with others of their type. All in exchange for being bound by unbreakable chains, forced to ride on the souls of horses fallen in war, called mares, each night and hunt using a crossbow while carrying a will o' wisp in a lantern to light their way."

"What do they hunt?" Pearl asked.

"Many things! Ghouls, dark spirits, lingering echoes of souls that have moved onto the afterlife but left something behind, magic deer, naughty children if you believe the fairy tales."

The group pondered this for a moment.

"So… what do we do now? Investigate our suspicions?" Apo asked.

"I guess… Scott, you look into Abolish. Legs, you and Owen are friendly, you peep around him. I'll talk with Martyn," Pearl said.

"I'm ok with that. Is that all we have to discuss?" Scott asked.

"I think so," doc said.

"Yep!" Shelby exclaimed.

Pearl just shrugged.

"I…" Apo started, before shaking their head.

"Is something wrong?" Doc asked.

"No, no, it's fine…"

"Ok… well, now that we got that out the way, we agree not tell anyone about this?" The doctor said.

"Yep, especially not Avid! We meet again a week from now? Same place?" Scott asked.

Everyone gave their affirmation and shuffled out. The doctor needed to clean his clinic, Pearl had a house to build and Shelby wanted to search the woods for Bigfoot.

Eventually, it was only Apo and Scott in the house.

"Are you sure everything is ok?"

Apo nodded silently, so Scott turned to leave.

"Pyro!" She suddenly blurted.

Scott stopped, "what about him?"

"Well… they've been acting weird. He doesn't seem to sleep, and there are these little inconsistencies. But then again, he's an academic, so he might just be an eccentric insomniac. I don't want to put suspicion on them."

"Well, you're his roommate. Keep an eye on him, maybe take notes, and decide whether to talk about it next meeting."

Apo nodded before leaving.

Chapter Text

This was stupid.

Scott was stupid.

What was he doing? Why was he being an idiot? He barely understood fae politics! 6 years of living among his family was not enough to get a grasp on this! Especially since 4 of those were his first 4 years of living! Especially if Abolish was as experienced as he thought he was!

Why was he standing outside this door? Was he going to make a fool of himself? Or worse? Get caught in some kind of contract!

Oh… he was going to puke.

Did he have to confirm that Abolish was a fae? Couldn't he just leave it be?

He sighed, better just get this out of the way. He raised a fist, hovering just over the door.

Why was he so intimidated? He had no reason to fear the insanely powerful in both magic and influence that can ruin his life, has much more experience in politics, and probably has some unwritten list of rules he has to follow to not be seen as disrespectful that changes depending on the specific species of fae. What could possibly go wrong.

He wasn't reassuring himself whatsoever.

His fist hesitated, knuckles inches from the door.

Remember everything you've been taught the past 2 years.

But what had he learned? Everything seemed to drain from his mind.

He took a shaky breath, swallowing his apprehension. Unsurprisingly, it tasted like saliva.

He knocked on the door.

Abolish opened the door very quickly.

"Oh, uh, Scott. I was not expecting you," Abolish said.

Scott shifted on his feet. Goodness, he was so intimidating. He was about a head taller than Scott, which was unsurprising as nearly everyone was taller than Scott (stupid malnutrition hitting him in his formative years) but it certainly didn't help.

"Hi, um… you know, we haven't talked much and I decided that I want to get to know the town members I don't that well…"

"Ok… come in."

Great, this was already awkward! You're such a diplomat Scott!

Scott entered the house, not really knowing what to do.

"Have a seat," Abolish said, gesturing at a small table by the window, "would you like some tea?"

It'd probably be considered rude to deny the offer, it really depends on what type of fae Abolish is specifically. No matter what, it was better to be safe. He accepted the tea.

The 2 sat down, sipping tea in awkward silence for a time. Scott could taste the divinely sweet flavor of nectar in his tea, a subtle acknowledgement that Abolish knew what Scott really was. Scott had to hold back from downing it in one sip, because he still was uncivilized enough to try to fill up on as much nectar as possible, he guessed.

After a time, Scott finally spoke up.

"So… where did you come from before visiting Oakhurst?"

"The north, you?"

"Same, though I grew up a little ways east of here."

More silence followed this.

Eventually, Abolish spoke up, "So… I'm guessing you know that we're both fae,"

Scott exhaled in relief, "Oh, thank goodness you brought that up. I came here because of that but I really didn't know how to bring it up."

Abolish gave a polite chuckle at that, "Well, what did you want to discuss?"

"I mostly want to get to know you, since I probably should speak with other nobles more often."

"So you are actually a noble?"

"Yes," he swallowed. Why did Abolish have to ask that? Was he impolite? Wrong in his demeanor? Not smart enough? Not well versed enough? Not good enough? "Why do you ask?"

"Just that, I've never heard of the Goldsmiths, and your magic field is very erratic, fluctuating strangely, so I couldn't confirm your claim."

He could cry out of relief. It wasn't his fault.

"Oh, well, the Goldsmiths are a small house from the faunas court, small enough not to have many dealings outside of our own court. It makes sense that you wouldn't have heard of us."

He watched as Abolish's eyes flicked up to above his head, where his distinct lack of antlers made itself blatantly known. Not for the first time, he wished he hadn't lost them.

"I… was injured as a child. It never properly healed, so that's why my magic is weird," and he didn't get the proper nutrition to nurture it when it was developing. And he never learned how to use it in the first place.

"Ok… so how are you getting access to lembas? If you can't use your own magic."

"Just because my magic's a little finicky doesn't mean I can't use it. I make do with what I've got," Scott said. Lembas? That was a really old and archaic word for it, and he came from a group that still called it nectar! So, Abolish was definitely one of the Fair Folk, only they were so traditional.

"Apologies, I did not mean to insinuate that you did not have control over your own magic. I just got a little worried. You're quite scrawny."

Well… he had definitely seen the true issue to it. While he could brew his own nectar, it was certainly not as potent as the nectar from the Goldsmith court. Still, he had experienced worse when he was younger.

"I can assure you, I get enough to drink," nowadays, there was a reason he was so short when faunas were normally taller than the average fair folk.

"Apologies for my unsolicited opinion."

Fair folk, always so polite. "It's fine," he waved it off, "you were being honest."

"I am not a liar," and wasn't that so true? Fair folk physically could not willingly tell a lie, their magic forbade it.

Scott nodded, slowly putting down his cup of tea, it having been drained by him long before.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself. I did come here to get to know you. What noble family do hail from?"

"House Veylocke, an old one, very old, though I'm the last member of it still alive. They used to perform starlit rituals in this area so I came to continue the tradition. What brings you to Oakhurst?"

Scott paused at that, "just trying to take a break from all the politics, ya know?" And try to find the missing pieces of himself in the silence that was supposed to be around these parts, but that was now out of the question.

"I totally get that. It can be a lot. Would you like a refill on the tea?"

"Yes," he said too quickly. Maybe he was a little desperate for the better made nectar.

Abolish nodded, getting up to make more tea. Scott mused over it all.

So, speaking with an experienced noble was a lot less intimidating than he thought. Abolish was nothing if polite, and clearly didn't have malicious intent. This whole visit was very pleasant.

Abolish returned with refilled tea cups and, oh… this one definitely had much more nectar in it. It was hard not to down it all.

After some time, Scott thanked Abolish and left, having been given a vial of nectar by the fae who unsuccessfully tried to talk around the fact that he was still concerned about Scott's stick skinny frame.

He'd have to visit again sometime.

Chapter Text

Apo was discussing the safety of the town with Cleo and Martyn in Owen and Sausage's house.

They didn't have a better place to meet, as Pyro needed the house empty to focus on studying, Pearl and Cleo's house was still under construction, Martyn's house was too small for them and the beacon was in a pretty open ruin and the group didn't want to spend hours in the wind.

It was very nice of Sausage to let them discuss matters in his place, and while Owen was out chopping wood, the four of them (because Sausage was in the meeting as well) got to figuring out how to best defend town.

"We need to repair the walls, Sausage, you're also a carpenter, right? Can you fix the walls?" Apo said.

Sausage pondered this for a bit, "maybe, it would take time and resources, and I need to focus on my book."

Cleo groaned at that, "look, can't you put a pause on that?"

"No! One cannot decide when the whims of creativity come and go! My muse is a fickle thing, she arrives and departs as she wishes! It is not up to me to decide when she helps me, and it is through me that she sings her song, by her own choice not mine!"

Cleo sighed, "looks like I'll have to take care of that then. I think proper gates would be a help, as a replacement for the shoddy fences we currently have."

Martyn nodded, "and maybe we can make a town armory? You know, since I want a proper rapier, I'm sure others would want specific weapons."

"Assuming others know how to use them," Cleo pointed out.

"Alright! We need an archery rang and sparring arena. We can get those who know how to fight to train those who don't. I'm certainly willing to teach others combat skills," Apo suggested.

"Assuming they want to, and that goes both ways. I doubt that the doctor would be willing to train anyone, and there are just some town members who I don't think are made for combat," Cleo pointed out.

"You're talking about Scott, aren't you?" Martyn asked.

Cleo rolled their eyes, "Of course! A noble man without a speck of meat on his bones, I'd be surprised if he could withstand a particularly strong wind! Though, he's not the only one I was talking about. The butler-not-butler seems too polite to resort to violence, and your roommate Apo, nothing against him, but they seem like a wimp. And of course we must ask the question, do we want to teach Avid how to kill things better? I think his fear and lack of skill is what's keeping him from murdering Scott with a wooden stake."

Apo nodded at that, though Martyn looked unconvinced.

"What… you guys are going to laugh at me for this, what if Avid's right?" He said.

"ARE YOU MAD?" Cleo shouted.

"I'm just saying 'what if' not that I believe hin, purely hypothetical, what if vampires exist?"

"Then they exist! Big deal! It's not like they have any reason to harm us!" Cleo retorted.

Apo held her tongue. They couldn't join in this debate, as anti vampire measures tend to overlap with anti fae and werewolf measures and they had civilians to protect. One of then was in the room right now, pouring over a stack of documents from the university about Oakhurst to help write his book.

"Well what if they're hostile! We should make defenses just in case!" Martyn argued.

"If we made defenses for everything that might be out there and might be hostile, we wouldn't have room for any of the residents to live, Martyn. There is no more evidence that vampires exist than… werewolves and bigfoot and ghosts!"

Apo's eyes involuntarily flicked over to Sausage, still reading papers from the university's news letter. He had an old edition in his hands, and on the page she could see, the page he wasn't reading, was a familiar face.

"Wait!" They exclaimed, interrupting the argument, "Sausage, the paper you're reading, does it have Pyro on it?"

Everyone stopped, and Sausage flipped the paper over.

"Would you look at that? 'University student recognized with award' what a fun coincidence! I didn't realize that he was there until you pointed it out!"

"Are you done with that? I'd like to show them it!" She said.

"Sure! Its article on Oakhurst is very lame anyways. It's mostly about listing local legends, all of which I already know, save for the claim that they used to burn plague victims alive to stop the spread and that some say the souls of those who burned cursed the lands and that's why it was abandoned," he said, handing over the issue.

"I have never heard that one before," Cleo remarked, "also, they didn't burn plague victims alive."

"It made the claim that this happened in the plague that happened 200 years ago, you said your family escaped the plague that happened 100 years ago," he explained.

"How many plagues can one place have?" Martyn exclaimed.

"Too many," Cleo mumbled.

Apo cleared their throat, "Back on topic, how about towers around the walls for look out a firing arrows from?"

"Does anyone in town actually know how to use a bow?" Cleo asked.

Apo answered, "Just because the military is switching to rifles doesn't mean we aren't still taught to use bows."

"Oh! Owen knows how to use a crossbow!" Sausage added.

Cleo raised an eyebrow, "really? He doesn't seem like the type. I'd assume any fighting he does would be fending off wolves in the woods with his axe."

Sausage shrugged, "He always comes home each morning with his crossbow strapped to his back, the only explanation is that he's using it."

"Ok… well, we should work on patrol routes. And just mapping the general area."

"B Team is unwilling to take night patrols," Sausage said.

Right, all of B Team were secretly werewolves.

"That can be arranged. Besides, we should send the better fighters to patrol at night. Once more people are trained, we can create more patrol teams," Apo said.

Everyone nodded at that.

"All right! Seems like we have a defense plan!"

Everyone slowly shuffled out the house, save for Sausage who was still studying documents.

On her way back to her and Pyro's place, Apo decided to check out the article.

It showed a picture of Pyro standing next to a couple other students. The headline below it read: "University Student Recognized With Award-"

The newspaper unfolded, "-After Tragic Death Back in April"

Apo gawked.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

M had been thinking. A dangerous thing to do, but he was doing it nonetheless.

Where did Owen go each night? Clearly he wasn't chopping trees in the dark, that'd be stupid. Also, he wouldn't need to go out chopping trees in the day if he was at night.

The door opened, and Owen entered the house, lugging his axe behind him.

"Just got back. The wood is currently just outside town for anyone who wants to use it. You could expand the house if you want."

M looked up from his documents, "why would I need to extend the house? You barely use it."

Owen's wide brown eyes narrowed. He slowly put down his axe, "what do you mean?"

"You don't sleep in your own room, you leave every night doing spirits know what, as it clearly isn't chopping trees, and you don't tell me anything despite us being roommates! It makes me wonder what the point of being roommates is if you don't even live in this house. Where do you go each night?" He inquired.

"Hunting."

"Hunting? I thought you were a lumberjack!" He got up from his seat.

Owen glared at M, "I can be both."

"Ok, sure. What do you hunt that requires you to hunt at night specifically?" He asked, getting closer.

"Wolves. They are a problem in the forests. Someone needs to deal with them."

The two had a brief stand off in that moment.

That… made sense, actually. He heard their howling on the breeze each night, yet had never actually seen a wolf in the woods. Something had to be dealing with them.

"Ok," M said, "I'm sorry for sounding accusatory. How about I put your axe back for you?"

Owen nodded at that, holding out his tool. M grabbed it, but a bit too close, nearly brushing up against the lumberjack's hand.

"Don't touch me!" He snarled.

M took 2 steps back, holding the axe in his hands, "Sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean to! I'll try not to in the future." Right, Owen had a thing with touch. Nothing M was going to pry into, it was none of his business why any of his friends had their boundaries, but it must be a big deal for the lumberjack, seeing as only the threat of it had set him off. They hadn't even touched, M hadn't felt anything.

He took the axe to its place by the fireplace and set it down as Owen hang up his cloak.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Apo vaguely recalled Scott talking about stuff like this, and she needed answers.

They bolted up to his and Shelby's, knocking on the door, paper still in hand.

The door opened, revealing Shelby on the otherside.

"Where's… huff, Scott… huff?" She said between pants, out of breath from the sprint.

"Oh, he was… he's right there!"

Apo spun on their heel, turning to see the tiny little man returning home.

"Scott! I need you to teach me about ghosts!"

He raised an eyebrow, "Why?"

"Let's not discuss this in the open."

Scott nodded at that, leading Apo inside.

They were lead to the living room where Shelby had been mapping the woods, with marks on where she believed Bigfoot to be hiding. Though, Shelby had left the room when Scott told them to.

Wait, she was going to have to out Pyro to him to get her information! They know that they technically are supposed to tell Scott, being part of the Sleuths and all, but they'd like to be 100% sure before talking about anything! Especially after she told him her early suspicions after last meeting, she didn't want anyone to jump to conclusions!

"I-" she started.

"OK, I get it," he interrupted, "You're in the military and thus end up taking a lot of lives. You hear that not only are ghosts real, but vengeful ones at that, and you get worried that someone who loses their life on the battlefield might come back for you. I get it! I'd probably feel the same in your situation. So let me makes this abundantly clear; vengeful ghosts cannot interact with the physical unless they join the Hunt, and even then, they will be trapped to their jurisdiction of the wilds."

"I, uh, what?" They sputtered.

"Oh, right! You wouldn't know, the Wild Hunt isn't one entity. It's split into many smaller Hunts, each with their own territory. A Spirit of the Hunt can't leave the territory its branch hunts in."

She… could get her information without telling Scott!

"Well… are there any other ghosts beyond Huntsmen that can interact with our world?" They asked.

Scott pondered for a moment, "Poltergeists, and that's about it."

"What are poltergeists?"

"The simultaneously most tragic and interesting type of ghosts."

"Do explain."

Scott mused for a bit, before pulling out a bottle of a shimmering golden liquid and downing it in a single gulp.

"It's a bit hard to explain. Do you know why ghosts remain in the realm of the living?"

She shook her head.

"Well, it's because they have unfinished business in our plane. Some were wronged and seek revenge, some were lonely and need a friend, some fear death too much to truly die, some are unwilling to leave behind their loved ones, ghouls, also called wraiths, are cursed to remain here by outside forces. Poltergeists have unfulfilled dreams. They stay behind to achieve their goals and ambitions, though, they do not know that they are dead. They cannot be told, and must come to this revelation themselves as a part of their journey to move on to the afterlife. They are the only type of ghost where this happens. They are also the ghost type with the most crosses with other types. That's what makes them interesting."

"That's… sad," Apo muttered.

"I did tell you that they were tragic. They are very interesting though, in the way they manipulate perception as well as the physical world. If you were to walk up to a poltergeist and tell them to their face that they are dead, they would forget you ever said that a moment later. You could touch the manifestation of a poltergeist and have your hand phase right through it and not only would they not realize, if you didn't know they were a ghost, neither would you. They experience sensations, like touch, smell, and temperature, when they shouldn't because their own mind is tricking them into believing that they are. They don't perceive their lack of eating or sleeping at all. They are also the only ghost that can truly hold a manifestation 24/7, though Huntsmen are a runner up, so long as they head the nightly call of the wilds. The way a ghost in general can alter perception is fascinating! Their manifestations are perfect until you learn that they are a ghost, then they start revealing their ghostly nature! Many have the ability to cause hallucinations and illusions, while also dolling out nightmares! It's just so interesting!"

"Sounds…" she chewed on her words, tasting the sour lies she'd have to say to keep her suspicions unknown until she had proof, "…like you quite enjoy this topic."

Scott pause, a look of horrified realization on his face, "if you are ever to meet my cousin, then please keep that observation to yourself."

Apo giggled. "Oh, well, this certainly helped me a lot! Thank you for lending me your time," they said.

"You're welcome!"

Apo nodded, turning to leave.

"How's your personal little investigation going?" Scott asked before they could exit the house.

"Oh, you know… it's going… slowly…" the lie tasted bitter.

"Well, that makes sense. For all we know, he's just a human."

Apo nodded stiffly before heading out. They walked down the street and passed the town beacon, opening up the article from the news.

"28 year old student of history Jack von Pryoscythe has been given a posthumous award of recognition for his work after the discovery of his corpse in a creek by the city outskirts.

The death of Pyroscythe is largely unknown, last seen on the night of April 6th, at 10pm, on 4th street between his residence on 8th street and the university library by multiple eye witnesses, including Merriweather Sue, Poly Trace, Jackson Hendrick and Carl Lee Jones.

It is believed that the young scholar got lost on his journey home from a study session and fell in the creek, breaking his leg and drowning. Though, that theory does not account for the knife wound on his back or his missing wallet, pocket watch and billfold.

Some believe that the reason Pyroscythe ended up in an out of the way creek far from the path to his house is because he was robbed and his body dumped in the water. Others believe him a victim of the Dusk Stalker, famous serial killer currently haunting the southern streets of the capital.

Overall, not much is known about the scholar's death, and little is known about his life either, for he was a quiet soul, focused mostly on his studies.

His teacher's describe him as polite, good natured, ambitious and determined.

'[Pyroscythe] could always be found in the library,' says university professor of anthropology, Samuel Smith, 'a diligent worker, he always turned in his work on time, getting good grades. They were kind to their professors, though a bit of a black sheep in their family. I remember that one day on the eve of winterfest break, he came to visit my office as he had no one else to visit over the holidays. I do believe that I am the only professor in the institute to know that his family is still alive, and that he doesn't send them letters because of a rocky, though thoroughly private relationship that I shall not get into for even I do not know it's full extent. [Pyroscythe] was a good student and man, and it is such a shame that they died so young. They would've been a good historian.'

The university has since put on a memorial for the student, attended by dozens. There, Pyroscythe was given the Social Studies Award of Merit for his work.

The investigation into his demise has reached a wall, and anyone who has an idea of what happened in April, whether it be a sighting or strange noise, please phone the number…"

Apo folded up the paper, putting it below their armpit as they entered their home.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Legs was going to talk to Owen.

He was unsure why everyone was sure of Owen's inhumanity. Yes, leaving at night was strange, but having a messed up sleep schedule was not a sign that he was inhuman. Sure, creatures of the night existed, but you could hardly say that pulling a med school student made you one of them. Heck, Scott was a fae, something that weren't creatures of the night (he had asked Shelby how inhumans worked so he could better care for them after that fateful night in the woods) yet he stayed up all night and slept all morning, waking up sometime in early afternoon.

Legs knocked on Owen's door.

The lumberjack opened the door, a scowl on his face that seemed to lighten up as soon as he realized that it was Legs who was knocking.

"Doctor! To what do I owe you the pleasure?"

"I want to talk to you about something," Legundo peered around Owen, noticing Sausage sitting on the couch behind him, "privately."

Owen turned to Sausage, but before he could speak, the writer put down his pen, "It's fine! I was going to meet with Pearl and Ren anyways."

And with that, M left the building, book and quill under his arm. Owen nodded, standing aside as Legs entered the building.

"I believe the polite thing to do here would be to off you tea? M has many flavors but I don't know anything about hot leaf water so I can't promise you it would be good…"

"I'm good. Though I wouldn't say no to a cup of water," Legs replied.

Owen went back over to the kitchen, grabbing a small wooden cup that he filled with water from the sink.

It was lucky everyone had plumbing and access to clean water. Legs had found the underground reservoir and hooked it up to his clinic, using his mechanical knowledge from helping repair his comrade in the war over and over again, battle after battle, to create the pipeline, and his survival knowledge for water purification. Once people had learned that his house had running water, they had begged for him to hook up their houses, and he had. The only one without it was Ren, whose house was too far out from the reservoir to be linked up, which was fine as there was a well out there, but it did mean that it wasn't linked to the town latrine either, and Legs worried about the man's hygiene.

Owen returned with the cup, looking out the window. Legs looked out it too to see the sun hanging over the west. It was late evening, though not yet night.

"What do you want to talk to me about?" Owen asked.

Legs placed his hands on the table, tapping his thumbs together for a few moments before speaking up, "how are you feeling? You seemed to be in a bad mood when you opened the door."

"Oh, it was nothing! Just a little trouble between roommates that happened a few hours ago. I've calmed down since."

After that was another few moments of silence where Legs just drank his water and Owen stared at him intensely, head propped up on his hands, a slight smile on his face.

Finally, the quiet too unbearable, Legs just had to break it open, "I don't really know how to say this… I guess I just have to rip the bandage off. There have been rumors around town. Rumors that you are inhuman."

Owen pursed his lips, brows furrowing, "And who is it that is spreading these rumors?"

Well, he can't out Pearl, "you know, the usual."

Owen groaned, dropping his hands and leaning back, "Tell Avid that I am not a vampire! I just have insomnia."

Welp, he should've realised that Owen would think he was talking about Avid.

He rubbed his beard for a few moments, before taking a sip of water, "I definitely agree with that. You don't seem like a vampire. Though, I must ask, where do you go each night?"

Owen seemed to get much more angry, "the woods. Someone has to deal with the wolves. Speaking of which, it's getting late. You should go home, doctor."

Owen abruptly stood up, grabbing a long dark cloak that was hanging from a hook from the door. Legs followed him.

"No! Wait! I'm sorry if I was being pushy, I just wanted to inform you of what others were saying!"

Owen swang open the door, cloak fully covering him, "you should go home, doc."

"Owen!" Legs reached out towards the lumberjack without thinking, a hand on his shoulder-

It passed right through, as though Owen wasn't there at all.

"Don't touch me!" Owen growled, but Legs wasn't paying attention to that.

"I-I, my hand, it just-"

Owen's normally wide brown eyes seemed to get even wider, "I-I gotta go doc! Don't follow me, you don't wanna follow me!"

He dashed out the door, and well, Legs couldn't just let him. He needed to know what was going on! He needed to understand! To at least apologize for breaking boundaries!

He ran after Owen.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Apo entered their home, article in hand. Pyro was sitting next to Truffle, petting the fluffy pig with his right hand while reading with his left.

"Hey, um, Pyro! How are you?" She asked, swallowing her hesitation.

Pyro looked up from their book, though didn't stop petting Truffle, "Good! Good, I have so much information for my thesis now! I'm surely going to graduate, with honors! In fact! I just started writing it today!" He gestured with his book at a pile of papers on a desk.

Apo felt a pang of grief fire through their chest. Pyro really didn't know… he didn't know that he wouldn't be graduating.

"Can I ask you a weird question? Because there's been something on my mind…" Apo muttered.

Pyro raised an eyebrow, "sure? Really depends, actually, if I'll answer it, but you can ask it."

"Have you ever had a near death experience?"

Pyro paused, no longer petting Truffle. It was only now that Apo was looking did they realize that his hand seemed to make no disturbance in the hair of the pig.

"Well, there was that one time, growing up, where a stranger tried to lure me away with candy, and the other kids encouraged me to follow him, and when I told my parents they didn't care. Or maybe that time on a camping trip I was about to enter the automobile, but my dad held me back to yell at me and then the automobile got struck by lightning. Or maybe that time I drank bleach and had to be tooken to the hospital. Or maybe that time I started drowning in the pool and a stranger had to rescue me while my mom watched. Or maybe that time I got attacked by the neighbor's dog and everyone just laughed as it chased me around the street. Or maybe-"

"Pyro, what. the. fuck?" Apo exclaimed, "How, does one have so many near death experiences as a child?"

Pyro flinched at Apo's swear, before they just shrugged, "I guess I'm just one unlucky bastard. Do you want me to continue?"

"Maybe, do you have any more recent stories?" She asked.

Pyro pondered for a moment, "well, back in April, I got mugged on my way home from a study session and dumped in a creek."

"Mugged?"

"Yeah, I moved out from my parents' home as soon as possible, and as a broke university student I had to get a small, dirty apartment in a bad neighborhood in town. Muggings were common, I carried a knife with me everywhere, though they knocked me out before I could reach it. Lost a whole paycheck from it."

There was a moment where the 2 roommates just sat there in silence, pondering it all.

"It's strange," Pyro mused, "The memories of that night, they seem so fuzzy, as though they came from my childhood instead of a few months ago, almost as if they shift around…"

A strange dreaminess seemed to pass over Pyro's face, his eyes clouding over for a moment before he shook his head.

"But what do I know?" They said, "It's probably the head trauma."

Apo swallowed. That was… the story from the newspaper. The story of how Pyro died.

And Pyro. Didn't. Know.

"If you were to walk up to a poltergeist and tell them to their face that they are dead, they would forget you ever said that a moment later."

He didn't know…

That he was dead.

"They do not know that they are dead. They cannot be told, and must come to this revelation themselves as a part of their journey to move on to the afterlife. They are the only type of ghost where this happens."

They didn't know, and she. Couldn't. Tell. Him.

"That's… a lot," Apo said, walking up to her roommate.

For the sake of being 100% sure, there was one last test.

"You could touch the manifestation of a poltergeist and have your hand phase right through it and not only would they not realize, if you didn't know they were a ghost, neither would you."

But that implied that they would realize it now that they knew.

She sat down next to Pyro, placing a hand on their shoulder…

And it passed right through.

Apo sat there, staring at their hand, which was currently clipping right through their roommate's body. It felt like they were in a gale, the hand feeling as though powerful winds were bashing into it on all sides. Slowly, she drew the hand out, checking it over to see that nothing had changed about it.

Pyro had buried himself in his book, but his eyes had glazed over while Apo's hand intersected with his form.

It was so, so strange, to know that he didn't. She couldn't tell them, and that was terrifying.

She swallowed, put on a smile, and said, "Thanks, I really needed that."

Pyro smiled, looking at them from the side of his book, "no problem, and I won't pry into your reasoning."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Legs chased Owen through the streets of Oakhurst, the setting sun casting the town in crimson hues as winds whipped across his face.

"You don't want to follow me, doc! You don't want to follow me!" Owen shouted at him, his feet silent as they trampled the dirt.

"Owen! Come on! I need an explanation! Just tell me what's going on!" He shouted back.

The winding streets gave way, the ramshackle gate of Oakhurst upon them. Owen ran right through the fence, as though the closed gate wasn't there. Legs vaulted over it.

Owen veered off from the path, into the woods where most would lose him. Legs, who was made to fight, could run at a speed that would make the wind jealous, and had tracked people through harsh jungles in the dead of starless nights of the new moon with thick fog, should've had an effortless time following him, but the lumberjack didn't weave around the trees but phased through them.

"I just need to understand!"

Owen laughed at that, "oh doctor, you don't want to understand! You don't want to follow me!"

"I'm worried!" He said, veering around trees and leaping over a small ravine that Owen had effortlessly crossed, "You're inhuman, I get that! You're far from the only in town! But I need to know what, incase you get hurt and I need to administer treatment!"

Owen laughed even harder, almost hysterical crackles carrying clearly over the sound of hooves (when did Owen mount a horse?) "you don't have to worry about me! It's you who you should be worrying about! You don't want to follow me!"

"I don't understand!"

"You should leave! That's all you need to know!"

Legs had to run faster to keep up with Owen, but it was easy to track him, following the faint light of his lantern in the distance (when did Owen light a lantern?) That cut through the now darkened sky.

"Why?"

"I'll tell you in the morning! Just leave! You don't want to follow me!" Owen pleaded.

That made Legs' thoughts pause, though he continued running, finally catching up to Owen, who had stopped in a clearing. His long, ragged, dark cloak draped over him as he was mounted on an ominous steed of a near black purplish hue and mist like form. An eerie lantern that shone a pale blue was hooked on a rugged wooden staff mounted on his hip, a crossbow strapped to his back. His wide brown eyes were pleading.

"You need to leave, doc. Now."

"I need to understand."

"Yes, but later! You need to leave, now."

Legs backed up from the lumberjack, slowly walking towards the woods while still facing the strange face in front of him.

Just then, the sound of hooves filled the wind, and a figure appeared from the nothing. Similarly robed like Owen, though much nicer dressed, her stallion was much bigger, and her lamp shone brighter. The quiver on her hip was full of arrows, with daggers hooked to her belt. Long, pink hair flowed from her head, and her face was shrouded by shadow.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here? A lost living soul in the way of our glorious Hunt," she snarled.

Owen immediately started begging, "Mistress, please! Do not take this soul!"

This "mistress" turned to face Owen, "and why should I? The living should know better than to interrupt our work."

She started circling Legs, a predatory grin on her face.

"Please… please. Not him, anyone in town but him!"

"Oh, but he is here right now, not them. A lost, lone soul too deep in the woods for any to hear his screams," her whisper penetrated his frame, sending a chill rattling down his components.

"Why not the vampire hunter?" Owen desperately negotiated, "he also hunts creatures of the dark! You could call him… competition?"

A sharp, piercing laugh rang out through the clearing, "A mortal? Competition? Have you gone mad Owen! No living soul could hold up to the power of the Wild Hunt!"

"You give the others the choice of protecting living souls that they care for!"

"Yes, living souls who were good to them in life, Owen, you died 200 years ago and the only one you cared for burned with you on that pyre!"

Legs was drawing blanks. Owen was a ghost… a spirit of the Wild Hunt that Scott had told him about. And now, a vengeful spirit of said Hunt was here, threatening him. And even Owen was scared of her. Heck, by the title of mistress, she might be in a position of authority in the Hunt's ranks. And what was that about Owen burning on a pyre?

"Please…"

That piercing laugh broke the night again, "Oh, Owen. You are so easy to scare. When have I ever done something so brash as to take a living soul?"

"All the time, my lady…" he muttered.

"Yes," she yawned, "but only those who disrespect me. This one has been quite politely quiet. Besides, I only take real souls. And this one's soul is not of the Wilds. Come along now, Hunter, we have a dark spirit to catch before the sun rises."

Owen gave Legs a quick look, one that held relief, worry and confusion all in one, before silently following the Mistress into the night.

Legs stayed there for a moment, before a shuffling in the brush reminded him that there were zombies in these woods, so he turned on his light and headed back to town.

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Legs arrived at Owen's house the next morning.

He was so… hot… he must be low on coolant levels, but he didn't notice until he had already left his clinic.

He knocked on the door and waited.

The door opened, and Sausage was on the other side.

"Oh, doctor! You're back again?" The writer said.

Legs nodded, "Your roommate…?"

"COMING!" A voice shouted from a room in the back, and Owen appeared from the far doorway, "Sausage, we are going to need some privacy."

"Again? Alright, I might as well interview some townsfolk for my book then!"

M dipped back into the house for a moment before returning with a bunch of parchment, 2 quills and a vial of ink and sprinting out the door.

Owen stood in the doorway now, shifting on his feet while biting lip. Legs pinched the bridge of his nose, and in that moment, the 2 just stared at each other awkwardly across the threshold.

Owen cleared his throat, "well, come in."

And once more, Legs was following Owen.

He sat, once again, at the table.

"Water?" Owen offered.

"Yes please," he said. He was definitely overheating.

Owen presented him with a wooden cup of water a few moments later.

"So," Owen said.

"So indeed. Sense I'm the one who is at fault for this, I think I should reveal myself first. I'm sure you have questions," Legs said.

Owen looked taken aback for a moment, before gathering himself and saying, "what did She mean when She said that your soul was not of the Wilds?"

"Truth be told, I'm not entirely sure. I do not know much about the Huntress from last night, and in fact, it would seem that you know more than me-"

"Mistress. Huntress is a lesser rank, She would not be pleased to be called by it." Owen interjected.

"Then I do not know of this Mistress, though I know of where she hails."

"You know of the Hunt That Rides In Wild Places?"

"Yes. I was told about it by a friend."

"Avid?"

"No."

"Shelby?"

"Kinda, but not really. I got most of my information from Scott."

"Scott? He doesn't seem like the type… I swear if it turns out that Avid was right… but I do not sense that magic on him… but then again, my connection to the magic fields is weak, I am no fae…"

Legs cleared his throat, a useless gesture built into him to help keep up his human facade, "Scott is no vampire. Though what he is, I couldn't possibly say. Patient privacy, and all that. Either way, I believe that what this Mistress was saying is that I am not a normal being."

"Explain."

Legs picked up the cup of water, holding it in his hand, "I wanna show you something, though you might find it a little weird…"

Owen grunted, "I have seen hunting dogs brutally tear into the flesh of a tarand. I doubt anything could faze me."

Legs shrugged, then moved his left hand to his shoulder, searching behind the blade. Eventually, he found what he was looking for, peeled back his artificial skin, popped open his coolant valve and poured the water right in.

Owen gawked as Legs closed up his valve and covered it up.

"I am a robot. One designed by an ancient civilization long ago."

"What did you…?"

"I just restocked on coolant. Nothing special."

"What about the water you drank?"

"Goes into the lubrication system. Works as a good temporary substitute when oil runs low."

Owen closed his mouth, opened it, and closed it again before finally speaking, "wow, I was not expecting that…"

"So, are you going to give me your explanation?"

"What is there to explain? You already seem to know everything…"

"Oh, I don't know, who exactly is the Mistress? Why didn't you tell anyone about being a ghost? What's with the ghost horse and magic lantern? You've been dead for 200 years? And what was that about burning on a pyre? If you're willing to tell, that is…"

There was a pause, "well… the Mistress would be Lady Shadow, Mistress of the Night and Wild Places. She leads the local branch of the Wild Hunt, so you could call Her my boss in a sense. As for why I didn't tell anyone, vengeful spirits don't have the best reputation. The ghost horse? You mean a mare? The souls of horses that died in war? You didn't know about them? You don't know about wisps? The wayward souls of those who cross the Hunt, forever trapped to light our way? You're not nearly as informed as I thought."

"Well, I'm sorry, that my knowledge comes from a guy who's knowledge comes from his cousin!"

Owen chuckled at that, "oh, now that makes sense."

The two had a much simpler conversation after that. Discussing the weather, plans for the day, general plans for the future, gossip about ghosts Legs knew nothing about besides their names and weather or not coffee was better than tea (neither had the qualifications for such a discussion, seeing as Legs disliked both and Owen's knowledge was 200 years out of date.)

When Legs left at noon that day, he felt good about the whole situation. Sure, Owen had not explained his history, but he didn't need to if he didn't want.