Hi!

Spores of Sculk

He hadn't expected to see him like that at first.

A human first. He remembered that. They'd met when he spooked Sparrow whilst he was trying to take pictures of him from afar. Then they had gone into his house to interview him.

Then a copper golem. He was smaller, certainly, and seeing the person he'd known for so long change scared him. What if Sparrow changed? What if he didn't like him much anymore? People changed when they died, he knew that much.

But he didn't. Not really. He was mostly the same person.

And now, Sparrow was...whatever he is now. Some sort of sculk creature.

Scott rubbed his temples, trying to ease the aching.

The spores floating around him dispersed a little and he let out an annoyed growl, stamping the ground and digging his foot into the dirt.

Lifting his shoe back up, he realised he'd broken the mycellium he'd surrounded the sculk in.

He sighed.

Sparrow mentioned opening doors when he was in his head. Had he actually...? No, he couldn't have. Surely. That was a huge invasion of privacy. He wouldn't do that.

Recalling the sensation sent shivers down his spine.

Best to ignore it.

The End Has Come

It's all over now.

Scott finally got his happy ending. Shirking his crown, he happily went off with Milo. It worked. The spell worked. Now Scott was able to live out his life with his love. Scott was Milo's moonlight, his little shadow. Losing his magic was a price he was willing to pay if it meant he could spend the rest of his life with Milo. Scott was overjoyed.

Lauren was happy. She made friends! After years of being in the desert, alone, she had people that made her laugh. People that she cared about, and cared about her in return. Lauren liked having friends. It was much better than being alone, that's for sure. But her mind was doubtful. She ran instead of fighting that demon. Would the others forgive her? Lauren wouldn't know.

Pris was going to start her own family in the ocean. Pride welled in her chest as she swam amidst the waves. She could visit her sister. She could live her life. There was no way anyone could ever say she wasn't overjoyed. The water passed over her skin and she relished in the feeling. Pris was happy.

Shelbie was home again. It was awkward, especially after she set off the rain again, but she couldn't complain. Not when she was welcomed with open arms and into a warm hug. She melted into the touch with a smile on her face. Shelbie was grateful.

Eloise had found that crown. Some loser had just left it on the ground! And whilst she didn't know how someone could just leave it there, she didn't question it. Eloise readily picked it up and placed it on her head. She paid no mind to the runes on the ground, nor the circles of chalk. Eloise didn't see the shimmering dark-green glow pass over the crown.

Joey had followed Tiff through that portal. There was nowhere else that she could've gone. He scrunched his eyes shut and tried to ignore the unsettling crawl of goosebumps on his skin as the portal transported him. He didn't need to return to the mages that tossed him away when his magic was revealed. He didn't need to prove himself to them anymore. Joey just had to find his friend and make sure she was okay.

Tiff couldn't help but grin. This would be a new adventure. A new world. Those voices called to her, beckoning her to come with them, more hypnotic than a siren's song. Tiff wanted to take the plunge. Just like she had done with the competition. Only this time, there was no major incentive to do it. No Mother Nature calling her forth to help protect the plants. Tiff had chosen this.

Cleo marveled at her new body. No more rotted flesh. No more stitches holding her limbs together. No more time spent having to struggle with an undead body she was condemned to be trapped within. Cleo finally had a normal body again. A normal body with a beating heart. With no stitches. With no risk of falling apart if not for her magic keeping her together. Cleo was content.

Bertha had to follow Joey and Tiff. Without them, the two would likely get themselves in trouble within mere minutes. So, albeit somewhat reluctantly, Bertha bade their beloved Mertha goodbye as they ran towards the portal and stepped in. They watched as Mertha's image dissipated slowly. Everything soon was covered in green, green, green. Green everywhere. Just green. Bertha had to help them.

Happy endings never last. Loose strings must always be tied when all is said and done.

The story is not over just yet.

A Dead Canary In The Garden

Scott stared out of his window in a trance. The shimmering water of the lake was illuminated by the golden rays of light from the sun dipping below the horizon. Trees surrounded this lake in a protective circle in a desperate effort to hide the lake from Scott's clutches. That's what it felt like. But in all fairness, he wasn't exactly the best person to have around. Death and decay clung to him, shackles that he could never remove no matter how hard he tried. Maybe once he could have done it, but not anymore. Not since the one person Scott loved more than life had been taken from him.

Now he was resigned to watching the lake from a distance. He didn't trust himself to go near it. Maybe later. For now, it felt like attempting such a feat would end badly. Particularly with the lake evaporating or bubbling to the point where it would burn anyone who even tried to come near it. Almost like how Scott had tried to hide himself from the other witches. After all, wouldn't he always be the bad guy in their stories? The Necromantic Witch, who brought the undead with him wherever he went, who cursed those he deigned worthy of such burdens, who would actively seek out trouble by attacking his fellow witches or simply messing with them. Thinking back on it, he didn't even know if he was the good guy in his own story. How could he be?

Sighing to himself, Scott left the confines of his house. The walls sought to suffocate him, and that wasn't something Scott could deal with right now. But what if he let it happen? If he let the walls suck the air out of his lungs and finally allow Scott to die? Would he be happy? Would Scott finally see him again? He chuckled to himself. If the Necromantic Witch had died, he had no doubt in his mind that the others would find it amusing. The irony of it pulled another laugh out of his lungs.

Wandering slowly outside, he allowed his feet to carry him. He didn't have a particular destination in mind. As long as he was moving, he'd be fine. Movement meant he was alive. Or maybe he'd been reanimated by a different necromancer. Either way, it meant he was walking, which was good. Most of the time, death meant nothingness for eternity. Or so that's what all those books had taught him.

To his surprise, he found himself in a familiar part of the forest. One he hadn't been to since he received the letter stating he'd be partaking in a competition to become Supreme Witch. Since he had built the home they had dreamt of before-....

He shook his head.

Scott approached the back of the cabin. A small patch of grass lay behind it, distinctly out of place. It was a far brighter patch of grass than the decayed grass surrounding it. A single flower was left there along with a small headstone with lovingly carved words on its surface. Scott remembered carving it. The grief that had wracked his body almost made him mess up. Luckily, he'd managed to carve it correctly without any huge mistakes.

"Hello again Petal," Scott said quietly. He stared down at the flower on the ground. A poppy. Symbolising death and remembrance. "Do you like the flower? I'm sorry I couldn't get you more. Flowers don't seem to like me much anymore." He paused. No answer came from the grave. Only silence. "I love you. And I will get you back. I promise." He knelt down and picked up the poppy. He kissed each one of its many petals and carefully placed it back on the grave.

One way or another, he would bring him back.

Witchcraft SMP Member-Inspired Dances

I've already made a post on genres of music I thought the witches would listen to. What about dances they invented themed around their magic???

Shubble - Storm Shuffle. Literally. Just Shelbie doing a small little shuffle left and right in the middle of a storm.

Tiff - Floral Flamenco. For whenever Tiff is trying to tend to gardens or work with her botania books, she can do this dance to relax.

Pris - Hydro Hand-jive. Just a small dance Pris came up with after the date. She does it a lot when she's in a panic, and probably would've done it a small while after the incident with that demon on the ship.

Lauren - Sandy Salsa. Salsa is a kind of sauce/topping. Lauren's character is part-sandwich (i think???)

Eloise - Illusionary Ikariotikos. It's something she'd do after a particularly difficult illusion or just as a stress-reliever. I feel like she could've done this after her date with Pris went wrong.

Joey - Flaming Foxtrot and Frosty Flamenco. Joey just dancing in the middle of a bonfire seems funny to me. And then Joey starting a dance in a tundra while everyone else is just freezing.

Scott - Widow's Waltz. It fits his character, and does have some connection to death via mourning. Scott would have performed this with "him" before "he" died, and Scott now does it alone in "his" memory.

Cleo - Time Tango. Cleo would do a tango alone as time changes around her. Or maybe she tangoes with the embodiment of time. Maybe a time god? Or a time spirit? Something like that.

What do you think? Again, you can use this for Dancer AUs or whatever you want!

Fire Brings Death

Joey was getting stronger.

He took pride in knowing this. After that dungeon, he was slowly getting more and more powerful. And yes, Scott had killed him and tormented him in his own home, but the two were now at some kind of weird truce that Joey didn’t really want to break. He didn’t feel like risking it now. Not after what he saw what the Necromantic Witch could do.

Gathering more Inquisitive Gems from Bertha, he turned to go up to his tower and use the gems for more spells and tools. If the other witches were getting upgrades, so should he. He couldn’t risk being seen as inferior. Not when his competition was so obviously weak in comparison to him. And perhaps that was his ego talking, but it was true! He won the first dungeon. That counted for something. Not if your only competition for that dungeon was Lauren, his mind replied. Joey sighed in annoyance and sped up. 

“Gah!” He turned around to see where the noise had come from. To his own surprise, Balthazar had seemingly tripped upstairs. Joey rushed to go help him. The stairs were oddly slippery today. Almost as if someone had covered them in butter. Maybe that was another witch? Wasn’t one of them an Illusionary Witch? They sounded like one for pranks.

Once he reached the top of his tower, his suspicions were confirmed. Balthazar had in fact taken a nasty fall, and his robe had torn at the base to reveal a bloody gash on his leg. Joey helped him sit comfortably. Handing Balthazar a healing potion, he thought on what to do next. Healing potions were handy, but they couldn’t solve absolutely everything in an instant. They took time. And unfortunately that meant Balthazar was going to be immobile for a couple of hours. Which normally wouldn’t be too bad if not for the fact that Joey was about to trade with him. But that could wait. He wasn’t in a rush. A few hours would be fine. He’d waited a lot longer in the past, and he could wait. After all, his friend was injured! Joey was many things, but he wasn’t very cruel. But you betrayed Lauren in that dungeon when she was meant to be your friend, was yet another unnecessary comment from his brain.

Other things grabbed his attention. Like how someone had appeared in Spawn! He could go talk to them for a bit, and then go check back up on Balthazar again. By then his wizened wizardly friend would be fine. With his miniature plan in his mind, Joey leapt back down the stairs, remembering to tell Balthazar he’d be back later. 

Spawn was a nice area. It was where Bertha was, the mysterious trader who’d trade anything for Inquisitive Gems, as long as there was a decent amount of the item. Joey never fully understood what Bertha was, but he had theories. An enderman being one of them. They had most of the right qualities, from the eyes to the way that their hood concealed most of their face, which could allude to them being an enderman but not proud of it. Joey was happy to theorise stuff like this. It didn’t matter in the end, but it was awfully fun to muse on.

Stood in the centre of Spawn, wandering about with a distant look in their eyes was none other than the curse-providing mischief-loving Necromantic Witch Scott. Joey gritted his teeth at the mere sight of the man. To say they weren’t fond of each other was an understatement. Joey resented him for those nuisances of curses that Scott practically handed to everyone at any opportunity, plus the fact that he’d died several times to the necromancer’s hands.

“Hello,” he greeted.

“O-oh.” Scott didn’t say much else. Joey frowned. Normally Scott would jump at the chance to mock, belittle or use sarcasm directed at Joey, but for some reason, he wasn’t speaking.

“How have you been after you, uhh, chased me around my own home?” He tried. It was sort of pitiful from an outside observer’s perspective. A good attempt, but not enough.

“Fine.” Scott turned away after his quiet response. Joey’s frown deepened. There was something off. Not that he cared or anything, but if he was meant to be competing then his opponent clearly wasn’t in a good condition. How was Joey meant to prove himself if his competitors weren’t in a good enough mindset to put up a decent fight? 

“Do you want to spar?” The words fell out of Joey’s mouth. For a second an expression of shock passed over Scott’s face.

“You? Want to spar? With me?” Scott was slow, enunciating each word in disbelief.

“I-I- sure? But no magic. Or weapons. Good ol’ hand-to-hand combat.” Joey was careful in his continuation. He didn’t really fancy going up against Scott, magic and weapons and everything. An even fight would be best.

“Hmm.” Scott gazes at the floor. Joey worried that Scott would turn him down. Or laugh at him. Or just walk away. “I’ve not done it in a while, but I suppose…eh, sure. I have the time for it.” The Necromantic Witch grinned, and Joey could’ve sworn that Scott’s teeth were sharper than normal.

“A-alright! Follow me.” Joey quickly walked off, checking Scott was still behind him. 

He didn’t know where he was going. This was just a random idea he blurted out by accident. But by whatever gods existed he was going to go through with it. So he found a random open space somewhere close to Spawn. Removing his hat, Joey prepared to fight.

Scott took a bit longer. The Necromantic Witch removed his hat, but also undid the clasp of his cloak and tossed it to the side. Scott’s bare arms were on show and Joey couldn’t help but stare. Mild muscle, likely from having to dig up graves and relocate corpses and such. His right arm was blackened from the shoulder to the wrist, and if Joey squinted, he could see something like souls trapped in permanent screaming expressions swirling underneath, like with soul sand.

“Like what you see?” Scott asked playfully. If he was feeling well enough to do that, then whatever tiny thing Joey was doing at the moment was working.

“Eh, it’s not bad,” Joey shrugged. “Let’s do this.” He lowered his body slightly and balled his fists. Scott remained upright with a confident smirk. 

Joey was first to attack. That was expected. With a fiery nature, of course he’d begin. He charged forward and small sparks of fire licked at his heels. It stung his feet slightly, but not so much from the actual fire. More of the feeling that it should have hurt. Scott easily side-stepped with practised grace. The Necromantic Witch kicked him sharply in the back and Joey stumbled. He quickly regained his footing and swung around. Scott threw a punch. Joey jumped backwards to avoid it. The dance continued, an attack, a dodge, perhaps a little stumbling here and there, rinse and repeat. It was a cycle both witches fell into quite easily. 

Scott brought his knee up and hit Joey in the gut. The Fire-Frost Witch staggered, caught off guard. He’d thought Scott would punch him instead. With Joey off guard and struggling to recover, Scott swept his legs and Joey fell to the floor. Scott planted his boot on Joey’s chest. The Necromantic Witch leaned down until their faces were barely inches apart.

“I win.” He whispered into Joey's ear. Joey’s face went bright red. Why did he find that kind of hot? Scott laughed and stood up, taking his foot off of Joey’s chest. He offered him a hand in standing up. He took it, somewhat reluctantly. “You’re not that bad. Could use a few pointers though.” Scott remarked.

“Yeah, yeah. I just went easy on you.”

“Oh really? Why? Because you think I’m too weak to take you on properly? Or are you saying that just to defend your ego?”

“Now you’re asking for it.” Joey clenches and unclenches his fists, then tackles Scott to the ground. The Necromantic Witch kicks up into Joey’s abdomen and shoves him off. Joey rolls over and scrambles to his feet. Both men stood at the same time.

“C’mon then,” Scott said, throwing his arms wide and rendering himself an open target. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Sparrow's Flight

Sparrow hadn't been anticipating that his first encounter with that strange man would go like this. To be fair though, it would only have been a matter of time before he was spotted watching him from afar. He probably should've planned a better excuse.

"Argh!" Sparrow shrieked in surprise as the strange man appeared in front of him. Was that his ability? Teleportation? Sparrow scrambled backwards in shock.

"It's rather rude to spy on people," the strange man stated, fluffy cyan hair falling over his eyes. The strange man moved the strands so they didn't block his vision. "Now who might you be, weird person stalking me?"

He faltered in his answer. "Sp-Sparrow," he replied, stuttering madly. "My name's Sparrow. A-a-and you?"

"Scott S. Major!" The man said with a grin. "But you can call me Scott instead."

Sparrow squinted at the rings of energy around Scott's arms. The rings pulsed and glowed faintly with their respective blue and orange lights. What did they feel like? Soft? Hard? Rough? Did they feel like nothing at all? Or maybe water? Sparrow reached his hand out and, before he could even tell what he was doing, gently touched the rings.

There was an instant reaction in Scott. He smiled, pupils dilating like a cat. A low hum escaped his lips. The rings glowed a tad brighter.

Not long after, Sparrow saw a tiny beam of orange particles shoot out from Scott and connect the two of them. The particles dissipated almost immediately.

"What did you do?" he muttered quietly. Sparrow carefully retracted his hand. Some hybrids were dangerous. He couldn't just assume that Scott would be one of the pacifists when so many hybrids caused harm.

"This!" Scott launched himself into the air. Ten, twenty, thirty feet. And still going. Sparrow watched on, his mind archiving every second so he wouldn't forget. He couldn't.

Then Sparrow felt a tugging in his chest. Like a rope being pulled. His hand rose to tap his chest in curiosity.

Before he could blink, Sparrow was flung into the air. Scott now stood where he had previously. Wind whipped against his body as he fell to the ground. Shrieking, his arms flailed wildly. A myriad of high-pitched screams tore from his lips and rang in his ears. He'd misjudged Scott, and now he was gonna die. He was gonna die. He'd die and it'd be his fault for trusting Scott so easily. This wasn't how he wanted to go! Not falling from a height because he hadn't been on his guard.

Sparrow squeezed his eyes shut tight.

He landed.

He...wasn't dead?

Slowly, Sparrow's eyes fluttered open. Scott grinned at him. He looked down and saw that Scott had caught him.

Oh.

Sparrow sprung out of Scott's arms in a frenzy.

"Why would you do that? I could've died!" Sparrow screamed. Scott laughed, a mellifluous and whimsy sound. He kept laughing, tears pricking his eyes and clutching his stomach. Scott's shoulders shuddered with heavy full-body laughter.

"I-I'm sorry, I couldn't r-resist! It's to-too easy!" Scott eventually took several deep breaths, and wiped the tears from his eyes.

Sparrow huffed and folded his arms. "That was rude, y'know."

"How 'bout I make it up to ya then? I can grab some food and we can talk." At the suggestion, Sparrow smiled. This could be his opportunity to interview a hybrid! He could learn how Scott got his powers, how they impacted his lifestyle, and more!

"I'd say it's a deal." Sparrow's wrist was grabbed by Scott, and a ring of orange and blue particles floated around them. The world fell dark, and a brief bout of nausea decided to strike, but when everything was visible again he relaxed.

"Come on in," Scott said, opening the door to his home. "I'll get the cabbage rolls out."

The Colony

Scott could feel the mushrooms.

Every tiny nook and cranny that he could place them in wasn't safe to the eyes of his brethren. Through them he could see. Through them he could hear. Through them he could feel.

There was no privacy in the colony. Everything was shared. That way no one had to deal with things alone.

But that also meant that Scott's pain was shared with the entire colony. His anguish, his agony, his sorrow. Every mushroom in his colony felt it and resonated with it.

He hated it. Hated how miserable he made his colony feel.

But as quickly as it'd come, the hatred would dissipate as the mushrooms soothed him with gentle words. His mind would be lulled into silence with their tender tune of love and adoration; because why wouldn't they adore him? Not many fungal mages roamed the lands anymore. They were few; a tiny sub-populace, a dying minority that would fade away.

The colony couldn't let him be destroyed by his sadness. He was the one spreading their power across the world. So they treated him like the blessing he was.

Scott sat on the mycellium outside his house, one hand tenderly stroking the ground and humming a small melody.

"How are you settling in? Hmm. That's good. I was worried that Martyn's Dollop would be a bit hard to adjust to. It's nice to know you're doing well. Oh? Don't tell me you just learned about the Coliny. They're nice, I promise. Yes, I know, you'll be fine! They aren't competition. They are just... frozen creepers? Yeti creepers? Something like that."

The mycellium around him spoke in a mixture of tones and voices.

"Oh no, I doubt Martyn will find you too quickly. He'll take a while at least. Probably a couple weeks. Maybe some months. He isn't as dense as I'd like him to be, but he's dumb enough."

He felt their worry. Their fear of discovery. And at that he shook his head and tutted.

"Don't fret, my babies. If he does try to uproot you or hurt you..." He trailed off and glared at the sinking sun. "I'll show the fury of the colony. Every single one of his colins shall fall."

It was a promise. The sun, the moon and the blinking stars were his witnesses.

"What's this about killing my colins?"

"Oh. Martyn." Scott stood up and greeted the chillager. "How are you? Is there something you need?"

"Nah, just passing through," Martyn waved him off. "Although, what happened to your last origin?"

"I died."

"I know that! What are you now? How'd you die?"

He shrugged. "Fell. But now I'm even better! I'm a fungal mage!"

Martyn tilted his head like a puzzled puppy. "What's that?"

Scott didn't give him an answer. "I'm not alone now. I have my colony! No matter where I go, as long as I have mycellium, they are with me as well. It's wonderful! Nothing is private anymore! I don't need to worry about secrets! Or going through things alone!"

"I-"

"You'd love it Martyn. It's like never losing your inner child. Like always being able to cling to the parts of you that you love most. I have help for every problem!"

"This doesn't seem healthy." Martyn stepped forward and placed his hand on Scott's cheek. "Are you sure you're alright?" His touch was cold, but it didn't bother him. Scott leaned into it.

"Perfectly fine!"

Martyn's lips tugged down for a second, but returned to a thin line of indifference.

"I'd best be off."

"See you later!" Scott smiled, waving as his friend went away.

---

"He's not okay."

"What do you think it is?"

"He kept mentioning a colony. Acted as if he had a psychic connection with them as long as he had mycellium."

"Hmm. Check everyone's bases. There might be stuff there."

"You sure? What if we're just, y'know, overestimating this? It might just be harmless."

"I doubt it."

"Fine. I'll start looking."

The Illusion Of Love

Pris had messed up.

She'd managed to go on a date with Eloise - beautiful, wonderful Eloise whose smile could light up a room. Okay, maybe that wasn't completely true, but Pris felt like it was. Every word that came out of the Illusionary Witch's mouth was melodious and entertaining.

That damn demon had to ruin it. The demon in her head possessed her at the worst moment. Why did she have to be the one who had a demon? Scott would have been better. A necromancer who dabbled in the dark magic no one would touch. He was a perfect fit. Possession would work incredibly well with his motif. Or maybe Cleo. Lauren? Maybe she could have made a deal with a demon to become a Sand Witch? Or Cleo could have bargained for...something! Anything.

And in that split second the date had fallen apart. Her heart had shattered just as much as the words of that demon that came from her mouth, in her voice that shattered the spirit of Eloise. Pris couldn't bear it. Not the tension. The silence. The agony that tore her apart with every passing second. Now it was awkward between them. The suffocating silence. The unspoken words that begged to be said but neither could muster the courage to do so.

Now she watched from her tower. Pris stared down below at the small congregation of witches gathered at Spawn.

Scott and Joey were walking together, with Scott bright red in the face whilst Joey laughed and laid his head on Scott's shoulder. That could have been Pris and Eloise. They could have been the duo walking together and showing affection in kisses and hand-holding.

She shook her head. Now was not the time for that. Not the right time for jealousy.

Cleo and Lauren were trading with Bertha. The two were laughing together at a joke Pris couldn't hear from all the way up in her tower. But there was genuine companionship written on their faces. She hadn't known they were friends, but Lauren's peculiarity often made people like her. Because the Sand Witch was so unafraid to be herself. Pris envied that. If she'd been proud of her demon from the very start, Eloise could have forgiven her faster and maybe they'd be together. Or at the very least they would have taken longer to go on a date but it would've been successful.

Damn it. Not again.

There was a crack of thunder. Pris hadn't seen the lightning bolt, but rather saw the flaming cluster of trees. Shubble and Tiff were frantically trying to put out the fire. Tiff was yelling in an erratic frenzy while Shubble apologised every few seconds.

And there she was. Perfect Eloise. The Illusionary Witch laughed at their efforts. And how her laugh echoed in Pris's ears. She found herself leaning further forward. If only just to hear Eloise better.

"You okay?" Joey and Scott were behind her. How'd they get there so fast? She would've been able to hear them.

"Y-yeah! Wh-why wouldn't I be?" Her hands were clammy and her heart hammered in her chest. Scott took one look between Joey and her and shrugged.

"You wanna handle this?" He asked Joey. The Fire-Frost Witch nodded and stood on their tip-toes to playfully swat Scott's forehead. The Necromantic Witch giggled for a second and walked down the staircase. "I'll be down here. Scream if you need me."

"So...how are you?"

"F-fine." Pris mumbled, folding her arms over her chest.

"No you're not. What's going on?" Joey asked with a small tilt of his head.

"It's...nothing. Nothing important." She was adamant on this. Pris didn't want Joey knowing how...humiliated she felt. Humiliated because of her damn demon. Because she and Eloise could no longer talk as freely as before.

"Okay. I won't pry. Buuuut, if it's to do with love-" he gave her a knowing look, "-then I can listen. And maybe contribute a solution?"

"Ju-just don't laugh," She hugged her arms tighter. And slowly, she began to explain it all. Joey was uncharacteristically quiet throughout it. If anything it made her more self-conscious. He was only trying not to laugh at her. That was all. He was trying to be polite.

"W-wow. Okay, uhh..." Joey scratched the back of his neck. "I guess, if this helps at all, then she's probably just as upset about it as you are. Try and talk to her about it. Verbally. Tell her everything, maybe give her a gift and ask for forgiveness."

"You think that's not my first thought?"

"Have you tried it?"

"I mean, I left a chest. And signs. And rose bushes in the chest. But there's been nothing." Pris sighed.

"Then just talk to her. Forget the other stuff I said. Talk about it. It may sound dumb coming from me, but talking helps." Joey said. Pris could hear Scott coming back up.

"I-if you don't mind, then can I just say something quickly?" Scott asked. But there was something weird about the way he talked. It was different. Not as deep or intimidating. More light-hearted. Melodious. Upbeat.

"Okay..." Pris made eye contact with Scott. Only to notice they weren't the usual murky green colour. No, his eyes were green and blue. Like-

"I forgive you." And Scott 's appearance shimmered and the illusion melted to reveal Eloise standing there. "B-but...can we take it slow?" Pris might have died then and there. She was forgiven. And Eloise actually wanted to give them a try! Even if they did have to go slow, it was something!

And Pris nodded all too eagerly, practically throwing herself into Eloise's arms, who hugged her back with just as much enthusiasm.

Maybe they could work out.

Pris: We need to distract these guys

Scott: Leave it to me:

Scott, yelling: Centuars have six limbs and are therefore insects!

Joey, Eloise, and Shubble: Immediately start arguing

Lauren, watching from the side: Oh this. I don't like this. I don't like this at all

Lauren had new friends.

It was nice, to be honest. Finally, she had two friends who cared for her and actually helped her! And she had tons of fun, too! Scott gave her a staff and three spells, and Eloise taught her what friendship actually meant and was her first real friend.

That is, if she excluded Joey from the list.

Because did Joey count as a friend? Lauren didn't think so...but he did say friends betrayed each other and stole from each other. Then Eloise said that was wrong. And so did Scott. So that made Joey her not-friend. Enemy? That didn't feel right. Joey hadn't actively gone around hurting her or belittling her or anything. Then again, didn't he become her friend just because she seemed to be strong? Lauren had to think.

As she stood in her tower, she sat on the spiral staircase, somewhere in the middle, and tapped her fingers against her knees. Her mind began to wander off topic for a second, but she was quick to correct its course.

Joey wasn't a friend.

He was a not-friend. That felt better than calling him an enemy, and easier than saying he was a stranger. Because he was, in a way. How much did Lauren really know about him? He never really told her about himself.

No matter what, as Lauren stood up from the stairs, and slowly walked up to the top of her tower, and approached the railing stopping people from falling off, she leant against it and removed her hat, she knew Joey wasn't a friend. Scott and Eloise were.

It hurt to think that. Joey and her had fun. Messed about, made memories in that first dungeon. Calling him a not-friend didn't make sense. Friend, not-friend, stranger, enemy. Four options. But not a single one of them felt right.

Lauren watched the sun dip below the horizon line. Its gold light crept downwards, seeping out and revealing the overbearing blackness of night and the twinkling stars.

Maybe Joey didn't matter right now.

Lauren had new friends. And she was happy with that.