Sketches and detailed notes peppered the cork mounted firmly against the wall. Connected to each other with string, each forming a path from one point to another, all centered around the image of a man whose silver hair matched that of the young woman poring over them. Nikki Flamel held another newspaper clipping, another length of string. Another mention of her father, but little more than that. Nikki read the clipping over and over again, searching for the slightest nugget of information to connect it to all the others.
Knock, knock!
Pounding at the front door. Mama wasn't expecting anyone tonight-- even if she was, midnight was a distant memory now. A chill ran down Nikki's spine. She turned towards the potions brewing on a nearby table. One blue, one purple, one red– the set she always kept in stock. Nikki grabbed the red one from its burner, poured it into an empty flask, and silently headed downstairs.
Mama opened the door to greet two people she had never met. For the millionth time. The endless flow of strangers coming into the Flamel home didn't have the courtesy to wait until morning anymore. The shorter one wore a red gown and pointed hat, adorned with jewels and an iron crown. The taller one wore a slim violet dress with a red and gold wave pattern adorning the fabric. Neither of them were from around here. Most likely they weren't from anywhere near France at all, with their strange garb and air of haughtiness as they spoke like they expected people to kneel before them. "Is this the Flamel residence?" The red one looked down her nose at Mama.
"Yes, how may I help you?" There was a strain in Mama's voice. She'd been asked this a thousand times before, she and Nikki both knew where this was going.
Like clockwork, the purple one tried to push past Mama and make way into the rest of the house. "Where's Nicholas?"
"He's not here right now." Mama expertly blocked the strangers from advancing any further. "He won't be back for a while."
The strangers glanced at each other. A silent conversation played out between them.
"Why don't you ladies come back another time?" Mama reached for the door.
Before she could get the chance to close them off, the strangers shoved Mama to the ground. Black and purple energy formed in their hands, and they loomed over the only person Nikki had left. "You're a poor liar, Perenelle. Don't make us ask again. Where is--"
The satisfying crack of glass stopped them in their tracks. Red liquid boiled and burned the shorter stranger's hands.
"Nicholas, you wretch!" The woman looked up from her sizzling hands, expecting to find Nikki's father. Instead, the stranger saw Nikki herself, standing between her Mama and the intruders who dared antagonize her.
"Don't you touch my mother!" Tears formed in Nikki's eyes. The shorter stranger lunged forward, but before she could strike, the taller one pulled her back.
"Circe, calm yourself!" The purple stranger hissed. "This is going nowhere."
The two strangers pulled each other into a quiet, rushed conversation that Nikki could only barely hear. "The ashes sent us here for Nicholas, Helena." Circe whispered in reply, glancing over at the Flamels. "They're clearly lying about not knowing his whereabouts."
Helena's gaze drifted over to Nikki for a moment, then back at Circe. "What if... the place the portal took us to was wrong?" She asked softly.
Circe's face twisted into a deeper scowl. "My... no." There was a darkness in the woman's eyes, for just a second, and then Circe shook it out. "My sisters would never lead me astray like that."
"I suppose they didn't lead us astray with..." Helena nodded, "Perhaps, then, we should seek a new approach. Demanding they bring us to Nicholas is only going to start a fight none of us want to participate in."
Circe took a second to ponder. "They brought us here for a reason." She nodded firmly. "We'll simply have to adapt."
Helena glanced over at Nikki, then nodded at Circe as she turned to face Nikki once more.
"That..." Circe looked at her burned hands, then at the shards of glass on the floorboards, then up at the young Flamel once more. "Wasn't half bad." A pained smile was plastered on her face. "Where did you learn to make these?"
"From my father." Nikki's fingernails dug into her palms. She knew where this was going, but every time someone intruded her life to ask, it made Nikki's blood boil even more.
"We're sorry for barging in like this, but we really do need a word with him. Could you please bring us--"
"Are you deaf!?" The eruption of Nikki's voice made the strangers step backwards. "He's not here. Papa's not here. And he's... he's not c-coming back..." Nikki fell to her knees and tried in vain to stem the flow of tears with her hands.
The strangers glanced at each other again, gears turning in their minds. Finally, finally, they were starting to get it. Maybe these two would go away now, and leave Nikki and her mother to await the next stranger who would start the cycle all over again. Circe pulled Helena aside, and whispered something in her ear. This time Nikki couldn't hear the conversation at all. The two exchanged a nod, and Circe stepped forward once more. "Nikki, what if I told you that we could help you find your father?"
Storm clouds swirled in Nikki's eyes. These people would dare give her false hope like that? She ought to melt their faces next time. Nikki prepared a thousand curses for the vipers standing in her door, but something stopped her. A part of Nikki knew the corkboard and string in her room would never reunite her with Papa. She had been collecting leads since before she was a teenager, and now, having just come of age, Nikki was no closer than before. She needed help. Desperately. Of the hundreds of strangers who entered the Flamel home in search of her father, these were the first to offer it. "You... would you really...?"
"We'll do everything we can to reunite your family," Circe began, her smile growing in warmth. "There is another matter we need help with in return, though."
Nikki could have been asked for the moon and she would still have accepted on the spot. She rushed to pull Circe into a tight hug. "Thank you so much." Nikki clung to this stranger like life itself. After a long time, too long and nowhere near long enough at the same time, Nikki pulled away. "I'll need a minute to grab my things; I'll be out in just a moment."
The strangers-- Nikki's newfound allies-- nodded, and Nikki bounded upstairs to her room. As quickly as she could manage, the young Flamel filled a backpack with anything and everything she could ever need. The remaining brews from the table, ingredients for her potions, the recipes she had published under her father's name when he disappeared, every book Papa had ever written on the art of alchemy, her spare clothes, trinkets from her younger years...
Once the pack was full to bursting, Nikki took a moment to glance at the corkboard in her room. Papa's image smiled at her, despite her years of failure. Nikki smiled back, and carefully took the corkboard down from the wall. She was going to bring Papa back. She was going to make him proud.
When Nikki returned to the front door, an ashen portal was already waiting for her. Circe and Helena awaited on the other side with bright smiles. Nikki pushed her corkboard into the portal and gave Mama one last hug. Happy tears streamed down the Flamels' faces as Nikki jumped in without a second thought.
The room that they had arrived in was fascinating, despite the state of disarray Nikki found it in. Shelves lined the wooden walls, covered with all sorts of miscellaneous objects. Nothing was in order. Spellbooks sat next to gems, vials of spices rested among vials of potion ingredients. Dangling from the edge of one shelf was a few errant scraps of paper, the remainder having departed to rest on the floor. Nikki's own corkboard fit right into the mess of papers beneath her feet.
Runes-- some written on the pages, some seemingly cast into the floor itself-- dotted the floor around the shelf and beneath Nikki's feet. All around her were magical artefacts, spellbooks, potion ingredients... The young Flamel's eyes glittered with delight. Everything Nikki would need to perfect her craft was here. Everything she would need to find her father was here.
"Welcome to your new home." Circe gestured loosely towards the somewhat haphazard state of the room. "Apologies for the mess, we've been... Ah! We haven't been properly introduced yet." Circe stretched a hand out towards Nikki. "Circe Mahinai. Pleasure to meet you."
"Nikki Flamel!" Nikki gave a bright smile and vigorously shook Circe's hand.
Helena waved from a few feet away. "I am Helena M--" Helena cleared her throat. "Helena Fujita." After a short, telling pause, Helena led the two of them to the far side of the room, where a door awaited them. "Follow us; we need your help just over here..."
The first thing that caught Nikki's eye was the faint speckles of blood trailing from underneath the mass of papers and towards the door. Nikki's eyes traced up the path of blood, stepping slowly to follow it. Her skin crawled. The specks of blood turned to streaks as Nikki ventured towards the door. The alchemist gripped the handle for a moment. A part of Nikki wasn't ready to see what was on the other side.
A bedroom's layout was before her, though it had been rather quickly-- and with much improvisation-- turned into an infirmary. Bandages, most of them bloody, laid strewn about the floor. A pile of bedsheets that met the same fate nearly reached the ceiling. Closer to the bed was an array of various potions that, upon closer inspection, were clearly made by amateurs. Thin, watery things, with less magic than a dishcloth. No wonder this room was such a horror show. These wouldn't heal a paper cut, let alone whatever war crime had occurred to create the scene Nikki was looking at.
Nikki stopped herself. The half-empty potions on the floor were all different colors, and there were so many of them... Circe and Helena were doing their best. Their desperate eyes proved as much.
Laying on the bed, in a sea of blood-soaked bandages and ruined sheets, rested a woman, half-human and half-snake in nature. Her skin and scales were covered with deep gashes. The wounds that weren't covered by already saturated scraps of fabric oozed blood down her body and onto the bed, and her bandages did little to stay the tides.
Nikki knew this creature's name by heart. Medusa. The injured monster gave Nikki a distrusting scowl, and Nikki instinctively turned away. Healing her was easy, the blue potion in Nikki's hand would melt away those gashes like nothing. The trouble, though, was getting Medusa to drink it without being petrified for daring to approach. Nikki gave Circe and Helena a worried look.
The two of them flashed Nikki a reassuring smile, then walked up to Medusa's bed. Nikki's newfound allies leaned towards Medusa and spoke. Circe and Helena were speaking in Greek, which Nikki only halfway understood on a good day, and the soft quietness to their tone didn't help. Nikki did recognize her own name and the word for "help" among the foreign speech. The alchemist pieced together that Circe and Helena were introducing Medusa to her, and were likely informing the creature that Nikki was meant to heal her wounds.
When the hushed conversation was finally over, Nikki's newfound allies turned and gave the young Flamel a supportive nod.
Nikki took careful, tentative steps towards the bloodstained mattress on the other side of the room. When she finally approached Medusa, the alchemist and the monster looked at each other uncomfortably, with Nikki taking extra care not to look Medusa in her eyes. Nikki prayed with all her heart as she slowly, slowly moved the hand with the potion--
Sharp claws lightly scraped Nikki's fingers. Medusa snatched the potion out of its maker's hands and drank it all in one go. When the flask was empty, Medusa tossed it to the ground where it fell with a shrill crack. "I'm not a wild animal," Medusa growled. Within minutes, the creature's glare softened. The wounds Nikki could see began to close, one by one, until the flow of blood oozing from Medusa's body grinded to a halt. The creature gave a satisfied sigh. Save for the crimson stains on her skin and scales, it was as if Medusa was never injured at all.
The snake-haired beast rose from her bed, and stretched her arms until her joints popped. Relief spread on Medusa's face as she slithered towards her savior. "I, um..." Medusa locked eyes with the ground-- for Nikki's comfort or her own, the alchemist did not know. All Nikki knew was that Medusa was clearly unused to speaking to people as friends. "I'm sorry about, ah, all that. I'm Medusa." Medusa grabbed one of Nikki's hands, holding it in both of her own. "And thank you, Nikki."
The feeling of blood slowly coating Nikki's hand made her shudder. Both the monster and the alchemist struggled to find words for each other. "Mmm... It was my pleasure..." Nikki glanced awkwardly towards... well, anything else, and her eyes landed on the golden sword and mirror shield that sat next to Medusa's bed.
The creature herself turned towards her weapons, and a playful smile bloomed on Medusa's face. "I stole those from the gods and lived to tell the tale..."
"Oh?" Nikki chuckled. Medusa came to life so suddenly, it was adorable. This was going to be fascinating. "I'd love to hear it."
On the other side of town, unbeknownst to all the Coven, a mysterious being wandered the streets of Salem.
The place had a strange beauty to it. As they walked, Blyte Mason watched the people filter through the streets, some chatting with others as they stood by the buildings that dotted the town. Old, dilapidated straw houses stood next to newly-built stone constructions, which in turn stood next to fortresses made of far stronger materials-- materials that didn't quite seem to fit on these idyllic golden hills. Bright flowers decorated the gardens of the people, occasionally cropping up between stones in the road before bursting into fields of bright colors as the streets and buildings gave way to hills and forests.
But Salem's beauty was marred by all the things that did not belong. Automatic weaponry, plastic, electronic devices, synthetic dyes, remnants of the Sicilian Mafia... Each blemish on this town made Blyte sneer beneath their beaked mask. Someone here had meddled with time, and the gods were taking notice. For Death had been robbed; three souls pilfered from the coffers of the almighty, snatched from their place by one Circe Mahinai. A witch that Blyte was finding more and more troublesome every day.
...How many days had they been searching now? Had it been weeks? Months, even years? Perhaps they had only been searching for a few minutes. Time wasn't much of a concern for Blyte anymore; their only use for it was to scope out the endless expanse of space to search for the burglar.
Blyte had found their culprit not terribly long ago; the task of capturing her fell on their shoulders. It should be a simple task for a devotee of their caliber; but even Blyte was uncertain deep down. Simple did not mean it would be easy. The witch was powerful, terribly so; the souls she had taken were nearly as strong. Patience was key. With the power Blyte held now, they might be able to kill the culprit, but even then Circe's ill-gotten compatriots would swiftly do them in. Blyte needed more power, and a different approach.
That woman kept coming back to this place, and that meant Circe was attached. Watching her people suffocate in their own blood, helpless to resist against the disease of a god... that would be suitable punishment for the witch's heresy.
The thought of it put a bounce in Blyte's step as they passed through bustling roads, but they had work to do before it would become reality. Blyte glanced towards the thin vial hidden away in the pocket of their cloak. A gracious gift from Pestilence themself, and the start of Blyte's mission from their patron god.
Blyte knocked on a door-- any door, it didn't matter which. They were greeted by a red-haired young man holding a baby in one arm. The man gazed up and down at Blyte's tattered blue cloak, cracked glasses, and beaked mask. After a moment, the man gave Blyte a warm smile, and led them to a seat at his family's dinner table. While Blyte uncomfortably lowered their mask, the young man and his family made an effort to cheer them up. The lady of the house served food and wine until everyone was full to bursting and all the adults were laughing from the looseness of drink. They told stories about their lives and encouraged Blyte to share some of their own.
Such lovely people. What a shame, that they had to die for the sins of one witch. Then again, that was her fault for meddling in the affairs of gods.
Chapter 5/30
