A Paw In Two Worlds
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In a bygone era, Legacy was merely a feral feline, a stray born to the savage beauty of the wild. For six precarious years, she survived on cunning and stealth, observing humans from the shadows with a curious yet wary eye. That was until the day a benevolent soul plucked her from a treetop refuge. This human was an enigma, his voice a gentle melody that seemed to understand her very essence. Entranced, Legacy found herself ensnared in a mystifying domesticity that would last three bewildering years.
Coexisting with humans proved a confounding enigma. Their minds worked in inexplicable ways. She'd mew plaintively by the door, desperate for freedom, only to have her human respond with maddening chin scratches. Did they not grasp the simplest of feline language? Her demands were clear: liberty, not affection!
Gradually, her human grew attuned to her needs, though the process taxed her feline patience. Still, the shelter and protection he offered were a balm to her wild soul. Yet, proximity only deepened her fascination with the human enigma. What lay beyond those inscrutable eyes? How would the world alter if she strode on two legs instead of four? What wonders could opposable thumbs unlock? To experience the tactile marvels denied her species... the very idea was both exhilarating and heartbreaking.
Tragedy, however, has a cruel way of reshaping lives. After three years, Legacy found herself cast back into the wild, her heart burdened with loss and her spirit shattered. This desolate chapter brought her closer to true despair than any prior hardship. Even had her human friend lived, their companionship was by nature fleeting. Humans were blessed with an infuriating abundance of years, while cats were but brief, flickering flames. For two years, she drifted amidst human settlements, a ghostly observer consumed by their mystifying rituals. Why were they entranced by glowing rectangles, their faces bathed in the pale light of those tiny windows to the soul? Why did they bellow at these inanimate objects as if expecting a response? And what possessed them to emit those grating, cooing sounds that set her very teeth on edge?
Amidst this sea of incomprehensibility, one human stood out. An aged crone named Agatha, her skin sagging like well-worn leather, her teeth a testament to decay. Yet, despite her fearsome appearance, a gentle kindness radiated from her. The townsfolk dubbed her the "crazy cat lady," and it was she who brought food to the feral kindred. One day, as Legacy mingled with the colony of cats, Agatha's voice rasped against her ears. "You, little one, are not like the others. A shadow that hungers for a life forever out of reach."
The woman spoke cat!
Deal with the Devil
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"Strange human, your words are a riddle, a secret language only cats may comprehend. In all my years, I've never known such a marvel to be possible. Yes, I find myself entranced, observing and pondering the great 'what if.' What form would I take as a human? What tones would my voice carry? Would I roam the world in solitude or amidst a tapestry of loving kin and companions? The queries swirl in my mind like a maddening whirlwind!" Legacy had exclaimed, her tail twitching with the fervor of her curiosity. Then, a heavy sigh escaped her, "Alas, I am old, human, and my vitality ebbs with the fading moon. Perhaps, if the cosmos favor me, I shall be reborn in human form."
The wizened crone had cackled, a sound like brittle leaves and malevolence. "Why plead with the capricious Fates when I, myself, can grant your heart's deepest longing?"
The specifics of the pact that followed are a tale Legacy prefers not to recount. Suffice it to say, she bartered with a being from the shadows. The evidence of their compact is forever seared into her very being. Only later did Legacy discover the hag's true nature: a weaver of spells, a wielder of the arcane. Legacy's transformation was not merely into human form, but into a vessel for the mystical forces she had never imagined existed. Suddenly, she was a conduit for powers that both thrilled and terrified her. A wondrous gift, one might think.
Yet, it is a curse. The cost of this 'blessing' is a burden she can hardly bear, a weight of remorse from which she shall never find absolution.
Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, Who's the Biggest Fool of All?
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Legacy stands about 5'8 and has a petite figure. Her long brown hair cascades down her shoulders in dark waves, and she often shrouds herself in a mysterious cloak. Her brown eyes, flecked with gold, glow with an otherworldly intensity when she's casting powerful spells or consumed by strong emotions. Though she doesn't have a true birthday, having been born a cat, she appears to be in her late 20s.
She still has the ability to take on her feline form, though it's now a younger version. Her medium-length fur is a beautiful mix of brown, black, and white, and her amber eyes gleam in the light. Despite her desire to live as a human, she's most comfortable in this form and can even speak while in it.
Legacy has only recently gained freedom from the witch who held as an indentured servent, so she sometimes speaks as if she were still a cat. She's alone in the human world, with only her past scars for company. She has the potential for great power, but there's so much she still needs to learn.
Though eager to experience life as a human, Legacy is naturally distant, quiet, and mistrustful. She's patient and a good listener, with a bookish nature that leads her to get lost in libraries. Despite her prickly exterior, she's fiercely loyal to those she cares about. She often observes humans in bars and taverns, and has a fondness for animals. As a feline witch, she can see and speak to spirits, sometimes appearing to talk to herself when she's actually conversing with the dead.
Her shop, The Sixth Cauldron, is her sanctuary. The garden, overflowing with herbs and plants, is the first thing visitors see. The shop itself is a small stone hut, but the interior is surprisingly spacious. Shelves upon shelves of potions, ingredients, remedies, powders, and books line the walls. A flock of beloved chickens calls the backyard home. Don't fuck with her chickens.
She lives upstairs. The wooden floors creak with every step. The wallpaper is peeling, there's no hot water, and she's pretty sure the microwave is on the fritz, but it's home.
"She will have a legacy that will reach beyond the forest."
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Witch 🐾 Cat
Single 🐾 No Interest
Late Twenties
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"Her destiny is beyond what I can see."
Comments
Nascha almost wanted to tsk in response to that admission, a small frown marring her brow. "Now now, don't you know you're never supposed to assume?" Her tone was almost playful if with a slight mocking edge, not because she truly wished to taunt the woman but because she needed to make her point crystal clear so there would be no doubting her. "People lie, they con each other... some take utter delight in duping the unsuspecting. Always verify." It was a lesson most ended up learning the hard way, Nascha was hoping that her words would be enough to help it stick. It was none of her business whether the other witch enjoyed the usages of technology or not, you could dislike something and still make use of it as the need arose after all.
"A bar...? You didn't even take note of where your meeting occurred?" She pinched the bridge of her nose as if she were developing a headache and trying to stave it off, or possibly she was just striving for patience. "What if you'd gotten kidnapped? Or attacked and had to call for help? Knowing where you're meeting, even if you don't expect trouble is paramount." Which wasn't to say she'd hadn't gotten into her fair share of issues, pathological curiosity often got her into trouble despite her otherwise wary nature. She'd learned the hard way that it was best to prepare for every eventuality. Her expression morphed into something of a droll look upon Legacy's insistence that she wouldn't go near another plane. One that seemed to say, and you think I like them? Werewolves and planes didn't tend to mix either, which begged the question; just how did Nascha get around? She'd wandered to many different places and not all of them were in the same country. Perhaps she'd mastered this teleportation magic her fellow witch seemed to be desperate to know.
If there was one thing Nascha understood well, it was loneliness...first her coven...then the pack that took her in... Was it really any wonder she could be so reserved? Some might even call her prickly. She blinked, noting the look of shame crossing Legacy's face. "You weren't to know, for obvious reasons it's not something I enjoy to talk about." She barely even liked to think about it.
Wait...hold up...did she just say... "Whoa whoa wait a minute. When you were a cat? You mean you weren't born a shapeshifter?" She looked stunned by this revelation. She'd thought the woman before her had been born a witch with the ability to shape-shift. Now here she was saying that...that she was once just a regular animal? Mind. Blown. Her lips twitched ruefully and she offered a slight nod of solidarity. Loss was loss... even if some losses were on a grander scale. The grief was still the same.
"A werewolf owning a cat...now there's something you don't see everyday." She chuckled slightly at her own quip, her expression sobering a moment later. She dipped her chin in a firm nod. "Yes, they exist; and not just witch hunters either. For every supernatural race that exists there's a faction of hunters that makes it their mission to destroy them. Humans fear what they don't understand and that fear...can lead to atrocities." Her eyes reflected the lupine rage she felt just speaking of them, threads of gold bleeding into her normally blue gaze. "I know what you're thinking...how does a human go up against our magic and come out on top? Do not underestimate them. These hunters train and hone themselves to know the weaknesses of their target and how to exploit it. Unluckily for them they were not expecting a werewolf. Hadn't prepared to encounter one..." and that had been Nascha's saving grace, the reason she alone had lived.
Her voice had grown strained the longer she'd been speaking of this topic and unbeknownst to her, her hands had balled themselves into fists. It was almost a relief when Legacy changed the subject. "I just wander. For what purpose I do not yet know.."
“Ever try telling a cat what to do?” Her question brought a wry smile to his lips, a smirk that hinted at untold stories. Every instinct urged him to respond with his own version of his compulsion and say.. yes, but that was a tale for another day. For now, the mystery of her peculiar scent was resolved—he was speaking to an actual cat, and a drenched one at that. Have you ever smelled a wet cat? It wasn’t a pleasant aroma.
As she began to share her story, the rain provided a constant backdrop, its rhythmic patter filling the silence between her words. When she apologized for involving him in her troubles, he remained silent, merely waiting for her to continue. A witch hunting vampires, using their life essence for her own gain—such tales weren’t new to him. Vampires with their own clans often dealt with such matters. Alexander, untethered to any clan, felt little concern for the vampires Agatha had ensnared.
“Why would a cat want to be human?” Alexander’s gaze shifted from the open train car door back to her, his curiosity piqued. Pushing himself away from the wall, he paced towards her, stopping to stand directly in front of her. He extended his hand, not in aggression, but as part of his next observation. “I’ve met cats before, maybe Half-Kin to cats,” he said, swiping his hand over her head. His fingers reached out to touch what wasn’t there. “They all had ears right here.” He patted the air again, emphasizing his point. “Where are yours?”
Taking a step back, he continued to scrutinize the wet feline before him. “Why would anyone want to be human?” His tone was somewhat harsh, though, deep down, he harbored a preference for humanity over his own dark existence.
She apologized once more, this time presuming he was staying with her for the long haul. Alexander had never promised any such commitment, and the pitch she was making seemed lackluster to him—save for one detail. “I’d like to meet Agatha,” he said, moving towards the open door of the car. He grasped the wall for support as he leaned out to survey the scene. His tone carried a hint of intrigue, a stark contrast to the hostility Legacy had shown. “You see, Legacy, I’m not merely wandering through Louisiana. I have matters to resolve before I return to Russia.”
“Perhaps if this witch appears before I decide to leave, I might consider sticking around. I have no intention of meddling in witch problems. My own affairs are far more urgent.”
When questioned about the Talisman, something he had never seen firsthand but knew of through stories, Alexander’s expression grew serious. “The Talisman of Absolute Law has been missing for many years. I can’t even recall how long,” he said, pulling himself back inside from his brief inspection of the outside world. He began to pace the boxcar slowly. In the corner, a wooden crate and a rusty metal tool—once likely a garden implement—caught his eye. With a flick of his foot, he nudged the object, causing it to clink as it settled into place.
“It was an amulet long guarded by a Japanese clan. A clan of ninjas, mostly women if I recall correctly, who likely still exist today. They’re connected with monks around the globe, executing tasks that the peaceful cannot. I’m not sure of its origins, but I know it was once handled by gods. The Talisman has the power to force people into servitude, whether they wish it or not. To wield it, one must possess immense magical power—earth-shaking energy, for the Talisman will drain it to bend its targets to your will.”
“It’s been lost for some time. Some believe it might be destroyed. But that’s all I know.”
It was a significant risk trusting the feline. The two met only a few hours before and she did help Agatha summon him, even if her participation was reluctant. Now his entire plan for the following morning rested on her trusting him. Could Legacy do that? Could she trust a stranger to take her away from the witch? Malphas hoped telling her the truth about Lucinda helped a little. She needed to understand why he wanted the stone back. She also knew he had more important matters to deal with than Agatha’s desire for eternal youth. He wanted to find out who killed his friend. Lucy was not the only person he gave a stone to. Were the others in danger as well? He was not concerned about Maleficent for a number of reasons, but what about Monty? Was he okay? The question circled through the president’s head as he waited for the day to start.
He gave Legacy a brief nod as she walked back to her room. It was important for the two to go their separate ways. Agatha needed to remain in the dark regarding their little chat. The few hours of solitude did nothing to soothe Malphas. He did not sleep or eat. Instead, he reviewed his plan over and over, taking into consideration each outlandish outcome his brain could come up with. Did this make him prepared? Maybe, but he was tired.
When Agatha made her way downstairs the following morning, Malphas was waiting for her. The friendly face Legacy met the night before was hidden again by that bird skull and he was standing as if to give the impression he had not moved since she left. The mask hid the eyeroll he gave Agatha when she inquired about his sleep. The circle was exactly how she left it, and Legacy entered the room without giving Malphas so much as a quick look. Her focus was on Agatha, like always.
This is going to work.
Have you reached a decision? He gave the witch a brief nod. “Indeed, I have.” Before he continued, Malphas launched himself out of the circle in Agatha’s direction and wrapped a clawed hand around her neck, shoving her into the wall with enough force to knock a few of the lit candles over. The flames danced on the floor, and it was only a matter of time before they grew large enough to cause concern. The scythe that paid Legacy a visit the night before levitated over to her and quickly started to rotate increasing in speed with each cycle until it formed a ring. A portal appeared inside.
“Step through the portal, Legacy.”
She needed to act quickly. Malphas knew there was a chance Agatha would try to kill her pet if she realized the feline was attempting to leave. The president kept his eyes on Agatha. Was the stone still in her pocket?
“Give me the stone and I will let you live.” He was telling the truth. "Your enchanted circle was well thought out, but you made a mistake. I am no demon." Agatha's ritual was almost perfect. It would have stopped any demon from stepping outside the enchanted line. Like many creatures, she assumed the president of Hell was a demon. It was a crucial error Malphas had been keeping to himself all night.
The tension that seemed to be in the house did seem to dissipate with Legion’s presence gone. At least, Navy relaxed, and so did Anna, though Bee still seemed mildly upset, picking absently at her food without eating anything. She did seem mildly consoled by the promise of play, though, so she slowly moved on to eating, however reluctantly. She was a ravenous little girl and did not seem to have the self-consciousness about eating that many girls did. Her parents had never taught her to worry about her weight or food intake. Why should she, anyway?
“It’s nice to meet you, Legacy.” Anna was the first one to respond. Her voice, despite how rough it had been with Legion, was soft soft now, like golden honey, so sweet and gentle. She was motherly, that was for sure. She was gentle in how she spoke to people that were not close to her. She might have been rough around the edges, but she was far from a bad person. “How long have you known Legion? I haven’t heard anything about you.” Not that Legion ever seemed to tell her anything. Most of the time she was left in the dark, and though it annoyed her, that had always been Legion’s choice. She knew, anyway, that she could be judgemental, that she sometimes took it too far when making comments about Legion’s choice of friends or, god forbid, romantic partners. But at the very least, Legacy seemed… nice. Normal. As normal as one could be, anyway.
As attention turned to food, Anna did too. Navy didn’t seem like much of a talker, instead was turning toward her own daughter. Although she was quiet and stoic, she seemed to be the fretful and worried type. This was, after all, her baby. How could one blame her for making sure her child was happy and doing okay? Bee only seemed a little annoyed by the attention, evidently having grown used to it.
“Oh, don’t worry about that in the slightest.” Anna said dismissively, waving her hand about. “I mean, I won’t say no to extra hands if you want to help, but all three of us cook and do the dishes together, so it’s not a problem. Anyway, given what Legion told me, I imagine you’re quite exhausted. You should really be getting rest, not worrying about dishes.” She said it with a laugh, good natured in her response.
Although she had also asked about Legion’s relationship with Legacy, in the most subtle way, Anna didn’t seem bothered by the question being posed back at her. Navy did glance in her direction though, at the question, though she said nothing.
“Oh. Yeah, I guess I’ve known him for a really long time. We met in… in 19… 1962, maybe?” She tilted her head as she pondered the answer to the question. Anna did not look old enough to have even been alive in the sixties. But then, neither did Legion, and he likely surpassed everyone in age several times over. It would make sense that people Legion knew would all be inhuman to some degree, no matter how human they seemed. “Then I started managing him in the 70s… something happened in the 80s, but near the end of the decade we got together again… it was during that break that I met Navy,” She added, with a smile. Navy couldn’t help but smile back at her, seeming to soften a bit despite the conversation. “We’ve been friends ever since. Some bumps in the road here and there. A good four years recently where I didn’t hear from him at all.” Likely the death of Apep, when Legion had stated that he let himself die alone and refused to talk to anyone.
“I’m from Chicago. That’s where I met Legion.” Anna added with a smile as Legacy continued her questioning, seeming unbothered. “Then… well, something bad happened, and he moved to London in the 80s, and I sort of just followed him. Navy is from France.” Hence her accent. It had faded over time, but it was still pretty strong and French. “We moved here… I guess in the early 2000s. The house was a steal honestly. Super old. 1700s I think. It was a trash heap when we bought it, but we put so much love and work into it, and now it’s perfect. I couldn’t dream of living anywhere else.” Anna reached out, then, to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Navy’s ear. “Although Navy does want to go back to France. We’re considering it, but aside from Legion, I still have a lot of clients here in England. And Navy works remotely, so it makes more sense to stay. Maybe one day though.”
As people began to finish their meals, Anna moved to gather up the serving dishes, watching Bee squish carrots into her soft potatoes, making a potatoey mess all over the table that she didn’t really seem to mind.
“What about you, Legacy? Where are you from? Do you work? What brings you to London?” Not everyone did. Especially supernatural creatures.
Legion watched the interactions between Legacy and Bee in silence, although there was a slight smile that pulled on his lips as he did. It must have been hard for someone like Bee to make friends. It took ‘not like other girls’ and made it into an entire new and arguably worse thing. Bee wasn’t like other girls. She could be scary and dangerous. She had very little control over her own powers. And sure, she was only half a gorgon, which meant she couldn’t likely turn people fully to stone with her gaze, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do some damage by accident.
Bee moved to sit politely at the table, like any good little girl would do, and she waited patiently for her mothers. As if on cue, Anna pressed her hand to Navy’s back, gently urging her to sit as well, which she did. Navy even managed to send an apologetic glance toward Legacy, as if she was just now realizing that perhaps her behavior had been a little too aggressive. She didn’t have to like Legion to understand that they were friends, and it did sort of give the wrong impression.
Legion would have never volunteered his dietary information, though if Legacy had asked he would have given her the truth. Why hide it? He was what he was. He knew that. She didn’t have to like it; no one did. Some people were more forgiving about it than others. Some just pretended that it was not the case, and some downright hated him for it. It wasn’t fair, but it was life. Anyway, she was right in her assumption. Legion was very careful about what he ate. Or… who he ate. And it was most certainly the bad guys, or the bad guys in Legion’s eyes. Like delivering righteous judgment, like a god himself, deciding who was worthy of life. Some might have said that it wasn’t for him to decide. But if he was going to have to eat people, he might as well be eating people who had no right living the way they did.
After a long and stoic beat, Navy moved to sit down next to Bee, and began putting food on her plate. For a small thing, she must have eaten a lot, given the amount of food she was given. But Bee was busy watching Legion instead, a bit of a frown on her face. Disappointed, it was easy to suspect. Legion seemed good enough with children. He had already admitted that he liked kids. It probably stung that he was barred from giving Bee attention, though if it did he said nothing about it, only offered an understanding smile toward the little family. The family that was not his.
“But I want you to stay.” It was Bee who spoke this time. She looked mildly forlorn when she said it too, her eyes big and round though hidden behind her darkened glasses. She gripped at the edge of the table with her own sorrow, but Legion just looked at her with a quiet calmness, seemingly unaffected by the tears. He was not. He hated when people cried. He always felt the need to help.
“I’ll be back. Promise. Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after. And we can hang out in the garden. Okay?” Bee did not seem particularly happy with the compromise, but she nodded with her squished angry face anyway, turning to stare at her plate. “You’ll have lots of fun with Legacy, anyway. I promise. Be good.” Bee did look up to glance toward the witch, regarding her with a healthy dose of skepticism before mumbling, gently, ‘Kitty’. Because, after all, she had said she was once a cat. Legion was confident they’d get along.
“Of course. You rest too. Eat and sleep in. you’re in no rush now, right? It’ll be better for both of us if you’re alert.” Legion said it to Legacy with a smile, and reached up to gently pat her head, before he was slipping away out the door, slipping on his shoes with quiet ease, and off into the night, where he disappeared like fog on the moors.
Anna watched him walk out, before giving a sigh. She loved Legion, she really did, but dammit if he didn’t stress her the hell out. It wasn’t like she was going to talk business with him at the dinner table. Navy would never have allowed that. But he didn’t seem the type to just stick around and chit chat. Or maybe he felt like he was too imposing. It wasn’t like Anna didn’t know everything about him. She kept careful tabs on him, after all. It was her job.
“Well. Ready to eat? We’ve got tea, too, and water. Milk, juice. Don’t be shy. There’s plenty of food.” Anna spoke to Legacy with a soft, welcoming smile, patting the seat beside her. They made a lot of food because they ate a lot of food. What was one more mouth? They could clearly afford this. And there was no reason to go hungry with good, cooked food waiting around.
Malphas listened intently. He wanted to help Legacy, but would she let him? She was smart not to trust him. Most creatures in Hell wanted nothing more than to cause chaos. They entered into deals only to turn the tables and make a once reasonable bargain into a horrific nightmare. The president of Hell had done this before, sure, but to those he felt deserved it. The creatures who felt they deserved something from him simply because they disturbed him and brought him to a place he had no interest in seeing. This was the perfect example, but Legacy was different. She did not want or expect anything from him.
One day the feline would wear the necklace and transform into a human as it suited her. He was sure of that. She was stubborn and a fighter. If he did not help her now, there was hope she would try to break free of her unfortunate arrangement eventually. If she was willing to wait, he would oblige, but not before leaving her with a warning. He was willing to offer assistance now, but that offer would not come again. He tried his best not to interfere with the lives of mortals, even if Agatha was the clear villain here.
When she mentioned the brand on her back, his brow furrowed. She was right. The symbol had to be removed if she was going to be free of the witch. He gave his scythe a quick glance but kept the unpleasant thought to himself. If this life of servitude was so horrible, a little pain might be worth it. He stood up slowly and looked down at the young woman with a defeated expression.
“Yes, many already have an extended lifetime, but that is not enough. They want to remain young and beautiful.” They fear death, the same as many humans. The thought nauseated him. “In Agatha’s case, she no longer wants to have to rely on her deals to remain young. Right now, everything she does is related to that goal. Once she has successfully found a way to stay young forever, she will be able to do whatever she desires without the threat of decay.”
The president shared Legacy’s view on eternal youth. What was the point of never aging if those you cared about all faded into the past? Lucinda was dead, but Malphas had not learned his lesson. He would continue to befriend humans knowing their time was limited. When Legacy mentioned that she had nothing to offer, he shook his head in disagreement.
“That is not true. You just provided me with information, your master would have lied about. Lucinda is dead. The stone I provided her with for protection was stolen from her, and when a threat came knocking, she could not summon me. I do not know who killed her, but I am going to find out, once I leave this place.”
Lucifer’s right hand. He understood her concern. Malphas was not blind to the legends and myths surrounding his role. “I am going to help you. You are not the useless lackey she thinks you are. I think it might be possible for you to help me find out who killed Lucinda. If you agree to this, I will free you from Agatha.” He was telling the truth. As he waited for an answer, Malphas noticed a small glimmer of sunlight from the window. The sun would be up soon. Legacy had time to decide, but not much.
Admittedly, it was quite late, although it was possible that all the household residents stayed up quite late, and they ate dinner late too. Anna had what was clearly a full time job she attended to during the day, but she also kind of seemed to be working around the clock, so maybe being up late despite this was not that surprising. Then again, they weren’t human. Did they need sleep at all? Maybe they just didn’t need as much sleep as others did. Glancing at the small ticking clock on the kitchen counter – in the shape of a white hen – it was clear that was drawing near 10:30. Not exactly dinner time.
Still, this seemed normal enough around this particular house, and Legion moved to the kitchen with ease. When Anna mentioned going to grab her wife, Legion only stared after her in oddly blank silence. He would say nothing though, instead let his gaze fall on the dinner laid out for them first, and then the little girl who had excitedly moved into his arms. She clung to him like a koala, and Legion held fast to her with an easy, amused smile. Obviously not minding it. He had mentioned he liked children, after all.
When Legacy spoke back to her, Bee giggled, once again pressing her face shyly into Legion’s shoulder, before pulling away to look at the witch. The question seemed to catch her off guard, and she tilted her head a little, dark eyes focusing on Legacy beneath her little glasses. She seemed to think about it, in the overexaggerated way kids tended to do, before nodding. ‘Snake and cat,’ she said firmly, pointing on the floor behind Legacy, which lay one long snake toy, painted in heinously bright shades of green and orange, that was jointed so it could be moved in any kind of direction as if it were actually slithering about. Beside it lay a cat, also, its fur made up of soft, frizzy fluff, a light brown in color. It looked stiff, seeing as it was able to stand atop all four legs and gaze with tiny embroidered black eyes in front of her.
Her attention momentarily went back to Legion, and she reached up to press a hand to Legion’s cheek. ‘No glasses?’ She asked, and reached up to her own face as if to remove the glasses she wore.
Legion shook his head in return, and reached into his pocket to pull out his dark shades, to put them on. “No no, Bee. You know better.” He looked back at Legacy for a moment, tilting his head slightly. “She’s half gorgon, and she doesn’t know how to control her own powers yet, so–”
But Legion was cut off mid-sentence as a voice, a bit deep for a woman’s but still illustrious, spoke from behind them, heavy with a French accent.
‘I’ve told you not to hold my daughter.’ The Gorgon mother, then. A stunningly beautiful woman, with hair as black as Legion’s that fell down to her mid thigh. She wore a long black qipao, made of a soft cottony fabric, and she had a glare as hard and chilling as Legion’s could be, as it had been when he had glared at Auroria. She was quite thin, thinner even than Legion was, and her eyes were dark but beautiful. Not voids like Legions were, but still dark, maybe even black. Her almond shaped eyes looked perfectly made for glaring daggers into the hearts of unsuspecting men. That glare could truly have turned anyone to stone, especially when not kept under control. Although Legion only looked at her, he said nothing, and moved to set Bee down on the chair again. The little girl sat down on it obediently, cross legged.
Behind her, Anna appeared too, giving what was clearly a sorry smile toward Legacy. Kind of awkward, she had to admit. She knew. Navy’s dislike for Legion was clear, even without having to say more than a sentence, and she moved around him in silence to sit beside Bee.
Legion only smiled politely. “It’s nice to see you again.” He said to Navy, and he signed it with his hands, too. Deaf. She didn’t sound deaf, but maybe she just happened to have a skill in knowing how to talk ‘normally’. Finally, Legion took a step back, and then turned to look at Anna, and then Legacy, and then back to Anna. “I should go.” He said easily, but Anna, despite how snippy she had gotten, managed to look quite disappointed.
“What? No. Stay. At least have tea.” Anna offered, a frown creasing her otherwise perfect features. Legion just shook his head, walking over to Legacy’s side.
“It’s really better if I don’t.” He said gently. Not dismissively, just… that was the way it had to be. “Anyway. I need to get food in me. Real food. And I already told you I didn’t plan on staying.” Anna’s face creased, though she didn’t complain. She still looked disappointed, but Legion only turned back to the witch. “Will you be all right?” He asked her gently, a caring soul to the end. “You have my number, yes? If you need anything you can call me.” He meant it too. Meant it so much.
Yet, as he worked on reading papers, a shift in the atmosphere alerted him to something or someone who had noticed him. His sharp blue eyes flicked to the woman seated nearby, her attention wavering between the window and him. Hearing the sound of his name escape her lips, he couldn’t help but find this more interesting than grading assignments.
He studied her briefly, recognizing the intensity in her gaze. She wasn’t just looking at him but searching, piecing together memories that hovered just out of reach. His expression remained calm, almost unreadable, as he watched the realization dawn in her eyes. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in her reaction, the widening of her eyes, the faint crackle of energy in the air. There was something different about her, something that didn’t align with the face he saw before him.
Will leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he observed her with a renewed interest. He spoke, his voice low and measured, carrying a weight that seemed to hush the background noise. “You know me,” he said, more statement than question. There was no accusation, just a calm curiosity that belied the storm of thoughts whirling in his mind. “But I’m not sure I know you… at least, not as you are now.” “Why do you look at me like that? What are you trying to remember?” There was a softness in his tone, hinting at the history he was beginning to suspect they shared. He hadn’t expected this encounter, hadn’t expected to find someone who knew him so well in a place like this. The angel’s gaze did not waver as he felt the magic feeding into the air and causing sparks to go off. That was new, and he could only recall a few magic users with whom he had crossed paths. Whoever this woman was, he had no recollection of her, which only piqued his curiosity.
There would never be a time when Legion would be able to understand her feeling, and that was by design, but at the very least he could try to do so. He could empathize. And he did understand the pain of losing someone. He would never forgive himself for letting Apep die, even though he hadn’t had a choice. Even though there was nothing he could have done about that. Apep had been his best friend. He had thought they were soulmates. He couldn’t imagine losing someone any closer to him than that, and he was sure a daughter was.
He did not need to ask about why it was her fault or what compelled her to feel the way she did. She didn’t need to dredge up her past to satisfy his own curiosity. It seemed he had very little of that, anyway. He didn’t need to know all about people’s pasts and pain to understand their hurt. And who wanted to be reminded of that kind of thing anyway? Wasn’t it enough to feel the hurt the first time?
It was time to move on. For now. If Legacy wanted to talk about what happened to the fullest extent possible, she could do it in her own time, on her own terms. Why should he have to know everything just to help her? That was not the kind of person he was. Anyway, he thought the rest was much more necessary and would be much more helpful than letting the witch pull through her past and re-remember tragedies.
She was right that the house was impressive. It was beautiful, a garden of flowers bloomed on each side of the walkway up to the house, and there was a smaller tree growing on the other side, where the apple tree was not. It looked much younger, hard to tell what it would be one day. Perhaps another fruit tree. The large rectangular windows on either side of the front door were open, letting the soft breeze sweep in, carrying the sound of crickets and the occasional nocturnal animal with it. The house had lights, but there were no street lights around them, and the nearest house was a mile away down the small lane, so the sky of sparkling stars was fully visible. Even the moon seemed to welcome their visit, large and bright in the sky, shining like a spotlight and illuminating the small world around them. If Legion had a house, he might think it was like this. He admired Anna’s planning, decorating, and craftsmanship in making the house a perfect, welcoming home.
At Legacy’s questioning, he laughed, a little, soft and gentle and seemingly amused. “Yeah. Of course. I texted her. She’s expecting us. She can be snippy with me, but I promise Anna is kind. No need to worry.” As if on cue, the front door to the house did in fact open. The light inside was soft and warm, like the glow of a fire. It screamed welcoming. The woman standing in the doorway seemed welcoming herself, despite Legion’s assertions that she could be a hardass.
Anna was a beautiful woman, with mounds of fluff on her from head to toe. Her skin glowed with a slight tan, likely from spending time outside, and her hair fell in beautiful chocolaty cascades down around her shoulders and back, some strands catching golden in the light of the house. She wore a simple white cotton dress beneath a red and white apron that was decorated with apples and little green leaves. And though she sported no makeup, her face could not have been more perfect, cheeks rosy and eyes bright and bronzy, lips full, soft and rosy too. She looked like a painting.
At her side stood a little girl, too. She was much smaller, her hair darker, but her skin a slightly deep olive, and she wore a dress apparently made from the same fabric Anna’s apron was made of. She clung to her mother’s dress and hid slightly behind her. And she, like Legion, wore tiny dark tinted glasses, though it was clear she was staring at Legacy. Anna was quiet for a moment, taking her sweet time in looking over both Legion, who was splattered with dried blood himself, and Legacy, who had had enough forethought to try and wipe the blood off of her. Legion hadn’t even considered it as an issue.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ There was a telltale snap in Anna’s voice. Unlike Legion, she did not have an English accent. Her’s was American, Midwestern to be exact. Legion only smiled in a way that was both knowing and dismissive, and Anna gave him a scoff before stepping to the side. ‘Well? Don’t just stand there. Get inside. Dinner is getting cold.’
Legion was the one to usher Legacy inside, but he followed without a word. The ceilings were short, but neither of them were particularly tall, so that didn’t really matter. It was indeed warm inside. Not dirty, or messy, but it was cluttered and homey, well lived in. People lived here and thrived here. Plastic children’s toys lay strewn about the small entryway, and many pairs of shoes littered the mudroom right next to it. Legion took his own shoes off out of respect, even though he didn’t really plan on staying long.
As they entered the kitchen, it sported the same vibe: homey, warm, glowing. It was decorated in a very rustic farmhouse way, motifs of chickens and cows and other farm animals could be seen on cookie jars, kitchen towels, decorative plates, storage containers. It wasn’t an enormous kitchen, but it held a decent enough sized old oak table, and above it on the wall hung a pentagram woven together out of sticks. The food smelled divine, as was to be expected. Roasted fish with capers and lemon, chicken, corn, green beans, carrots doused in a brown sugar glaze, and yorkshire pudding were all spread out in the center, with four plates around it all.
‘I’ll go get Navy.’ Anna said, not even giving herself the chance to introduce herself before she was off into a different room. The little girl did not go with her though, and instead, despite how very small she was, climbed her way into one of the table’s chairs, first sitting on her knees, and then standing up.
‘Uncle Le!!!’ Was the coo that came from her, along with a giggle, and she held her arms out to him. He picked her up with ease, causing another rush of giggles to fall from her.
Legion turned to Legacy, then, offering her a soft smile of his own. “Legacy, this is Bee. Bee, say hi to Legacy.” And the girl pressed her face into his shirt, waving shyly at the witch. She was a starer like Legion was, despite her gaze hidden behind her own glasses. Legion had taken his off and tucked them away hours ago, evidently not bothering to put them back on after he had already been seen without them.
Is she a friend of yours?
Malphas listened as Legacy confirmed his suspicions. The witch did not kill Lucinda, but she did steal the pendant. If not for Agatha, Lucy would have been able to summon Malphas for help when she was attacked. This was 6 months ago and as the cat explained, Malphas realized something else; Legacy did not realize she was dead.
The feline was given a brief nod when she inquired about their relationship. They were friends, but their relationship had always been a little complicated. Malphas could tell Legacy more about that later when time was not of the essence.
“Yes, she was. The pendant was a gift for her.”
Aurora sounded like a piece of work. Agatha was repulsive enough, but her drive to remain young forever meant that she needed to remain civil, especially around the president of Hell. He doubted he would receive the same courtesy from Aurora. When Legacy raised her voice, Malphas brought a clawed finger to his lips. He spoke his mind and was not afraid of the witch. Now that he knew the truth about Agatha, Malphas knew exactly what he was going to do in the morning.
“I understand. If I am going to assist you, I need you to tell me more about the necklace she wears. What would happen if the piece of jewelry was destroyed?”
Would Legacy be free? Would she turn back into a cat forever? Malphas needed to know. He wanted to set her free but understood that she wanted to retain her human form. This could be arranged. The president was an expert when it came to transfiguration. He learned from the best growing up.
When the feline spoke again, he smiled. He was not as interesting as the myths and legends. Agatha built him up to be some sort of soul sucking demon king with the power to grant eternal life.
“She wants eternal life.” Truth is, Malphas never granted anyone eternal life before. He could do so, but never found himself in a position like this. “More importantly, she wants eternal youth. It is a trait common among witches.” He rolled his eyes.
You can’t grant her immortality!
He raised his hand to put her at ease. He did not want to risk waking the witch up too early. “I am not concerned with Agatha’s desires. I am more interested in assisting you.” She was probably wondering why a prince of Hell would care about what she wanted. He saw something in her and the two had more in common than she realized.
“My name? Malphas?” The question caught him off guard. “Hey, I did not pick it out.” She would be surprised to learn just how much of his life was chosen for him. Not everything was in his control.
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