happilyeverbeginning | toss a coin to your witcher (dumb duck trio)

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toss a coin to your witcher (dumb duck trio)

"She used her dark magics on my husband, and now he sees her shadow in the mirror every night!"
"He killed an entire farm-hands livestock, all for his own twisted amusement."
"They have a garden full of statues that were once children, now frozen in time forever..."

As Scrooge McDuck - world's richest duck, famed adventurer, and also expert monster hunter - continued his research into the "mages of the mountain", he found each new rumor was more outlandish than the last. Sure, there were a few things that were consistent - the two were twins, beautiful in their own way, and fiercely loyal to one another - but after that, each new round of gossip could make them sound like petulant children or gods themselves. Whatever troubles the villagers were having, be it bad weather or failing crops, it was surely the fault of the De Spell family.

And yes, perhaps the manor of the twins - lofted right into the side of the highest hill, with decaying greenery entwined all around the massive stone steps - was a little something out of a gothic horror novel. Dark colors, eerie structure, and maybe a cracked gargoyle or two. The cry of a raven could be found in the distance. But if these twins were as powerful as so whispered, why couldn't they afford to fix the twisted rafters from the windows, or cover the drafts from moldy holes? The land itself was probably pricey property, and many would pay handsomely for it... if some particular vermin was exterminated.

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Given what he'd found out about their parents, Scrooge wasn't in the least bit surprised that the twins avoided the crypt at all costs. His old heart twisted as he looked at the tapestries that acted as murals for the dead. And the two last ones had the newest tapestries.

So these were the senior De Spells.

The renovator formed the sign of the cross as she shivered. "Please don't curse me for all eternity. I promise I'm just here to help fix the place up."

"Calm down, Irabella. Just do your job and be respectful about it," Scrooge chided.

"Y-yes, sir." She swallowed and turned on her phone's flashlight. She then very carefully began walking around, checking the floor, the ceiling, and the walls.

Meanwhile, Scrooge looked to Magica. "I'm sorry to bring you down here, lass."

Funny, now that they had struck fear into the strangers, Magica didn't seem to like it quite as much. She rubbed her arms, though it wasn't from the cold, and didn't look at Scrooge either.

"... You might as well ask."

Did he want to know what led to the end of the elder Spells?

"Only if you want to talk about it, lass," Scrooge said. "It might help with figuring out what's going on, but...those are your parents. Not some stranger to you like Marzia was."

If it would help, what choice did she really have?

Magica sighed, and then reached over to plunge her fingers into the flames of a torch - but instead of burning her, the fire came with her. She pressed her fingers together, then wove them all about, and when she spread her hands open, there was a small image of four family members made out of flame. As she began her story, the characters moved accordingly...

"Once upon a time, there was a happy family that lived up in a manor high on the hill. Even though they didn't have much in the way of possessions, they had each other, and it was all they needed. Mother and Father taught Son and Daughter all they knew of witchcraft and spells, but also taught them love and kindness, and that they would always have each other."

"Mother and Father had a very important job in the village nearby. It was their job to keep the very bad things away. Sometimes only one of them needed to go, sometimes they both had to. But every time they did, they promised Son and Daughter they would come back. Sometimes when they came home, Mother and Father were very sad, or very hurt, but they kept on smiling for their beloved children."

"One day, Mother and Father were taking a very, very long time to come back. The sun rose and fell many times. The children weren't afraid at first - after all, Mother and Father had promised to come back, and they always had before. But they were getting hungry and lonely, so Son and Daughter decided to see if they could go find Mother and Father and they could all go home together."

"Mother and Father had never meant to break their promise. But the villagers had started to think that instead of getting rid of the Very Bad Things, Mother and Father were the cause of the Very Bad Things. Mother and Father were very tired after defeating the latest Very Bad Thing. They had no strength left."

"So when Son and Daughter came to the village, they found Mother and Father together as always."

The reason Magica had chosen flames to recreate the story? Because that was their final fate - burnt at the stake, just as the old trials from centuries past.

Scrooge listened silently, heart aching for the pair. He reached out with his spiritual senses, instinctively seeking out any wandering spirits. It wasn't likely but...he somewhat hoped he could reach out to their parents to at least assure the senior De Spells that their children had people in their corner.

"I'm sorry you had to share that," Scrooge said.

The strange thing was... Scrooge wouldn't sense any spirits. The other Spells had always been reassured that the next generation was fine. But why weren't the parent Spells there? Whether to watch over in love or fume in agony, they didn't appear to be there at all. If he tried harder, he might be able to discover why.

The bones of all the other Spells had a wisp of lingering spirituality, but more like leftover crumbs from breakfast. But the boxes underneath Mother and Father were barren of any sense... as if they were completely empty. As if there were no bones within.

Magica clapped her hands, snuffing out the flames. "It was inevitable. If you want to work with us, you're tainted. Now and forever."

"Already tainted enough on my own," Scrooge said. He then looked sadly to her parents' coffins. "What did they do with your parents' bones?"

"The hell if we know." Magica snorted with contempt. "Once we realized what had happened, Poe grabbed me and took me home as soon as possible, before the villagers noticed we were there... likely they would have added us as kindling. Mother and Father didn't even tell anyone they had children... I guess they always figured, in the back of their minds, it was always a possibility this could happen. So by the time the villagers realized they hadn't snuffed us all out, we were old enough to be considered too dangerous to confront."

In that case, any hope of recovering those bones were slim to none. Assuming they weren't reduced to ash as well. Any spiritual energy to potentially guide him to those bones was likely gone if the De Spells had decided to pass on peacefully instead of seeking righteous vengeance.

It really was a shame that the Door only swung one way. He would've loved to have gotten the De Spell children in touch with their parents for a proper goodbye. But if wishes were horses, everyone would ride.

Irabella quietly cleared her throat, drawing Scrooge's attention to her. "Sorry to interrupt," she squeaked. She cleared her throat again, her voice sounding more normal. "I've got good news though: The foundation's sound. Just need to fill in a few cracks before they get any wider. The wood rot's spread a little beyond that one section of floor, but it'll be easy enough to replace. I took some pictures for reference."

"Thank you, lass. Do you need to be down here for anything else?"

She shook her head. "I did a walkaround and didn't notice any other issues. When we do the crack filling and replace those parts of the floor, however, the tapestries will need to be temporarily moved so they don't get damaged." She looked to Magica and offered a somewhat nervous smile. "If you'd like, I know someone who specializes in cleaning and repairing old woven and other fabric art."

Magica seemed to flinch at the idea of anyone touching the art - even if it was for a good reason. She clenched her arms, as if trying to resist the urge to bite back a bitter remark... although what did come out was still very sour. "No one else is meant to see these, so repairing them won't be necessary."

If they didn't have to be there any longer, she didn't want to linger - she was already headed back the way they came. "They'll be the last portraits, anyway... no one would ever paint Poe and myself."

Irabella cringed. "Sorry, ma'am."

Scrooge patted her on the shoulder and tilted his head to indicate they should leave as well.

"You never know, lassie," Scrooge told Magica. "Perhaps you or your brother'll have wee ones of your own."

The look Magica gave to Scrooge in response to what she thought of as an absolutely insane notion could have curdled milk. He really had a lot to learn about the Spells.

"Perhaps the oceans will dry up and the sky will rain down pillars of salt, as long as we're discussing the impossible." She said dryly as she went back to the stairs. "I'd say notions of romance died in this house decades ago, but that would imply they were ever alive to begin with."

That was fair, he supposed. Still, just because she thought that now didn't mean it'd be forever.

As they reached the first floor again, he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. He stopped, glancing at Magica and Irabella for a moment before glancing at the floor, counting shadows.

"I'll be right back," Scrooge told Magica. He started walking towards the nervous-looking young man. "It's all right, laddie. Looks like you got a bit turned around. Let's see if I can't sort you out."

From Magica and Irabella's perspective? No one was there.

Irabella shivered. "Man, it's creepier seeing that in person..."

Magica didn't reply right away. Scrooge had shown talent for understanding the ways of mystic and supernatural - but he'd also shown, given that last statement, he was a bit of a nut. So it was a toss-up.

So instead, she just observed him quietly, hand under her chin. It wouldn't be a complete surprise if other things were in this old mansion of magic, but it was definitely an eyebrow-raiser. Depending on what it was, Poe and Magica would need to show respect or kick it out as soon as possible.

"Mind telling me your name and where you came from, lad?"

The specter wrung his hands before answering.

Scrooge looked over towards Magica. "Does the name 'Pietro Zorzi' ring any bells, lass? Said he moved to the area..." He paused for confirmation. "...four years ago?"

Supernatural it was. Magica paused, eyes rolling up as she tried to think of the name and any connection. "Zorzi, Zorzi, Zorzi..." she repeated a few times out loud, trying to jog anything. It took a few long, awkward seconds before anything clicked.

"Poe may know of him, certainly more than I do." She finally said, eyes back on Scrooge. "Whenever we need supplies, Poe is the one to go out and fetch them. If I remember correctly... a Zorzi sold bread and pastries. Fairly good ones, really. Ratface certainly loved them." A half shrug. "But I can't think of any reason he'd be haunting us."

The spirit bobbed his head eagerly, beaming. He remembered Poe De Spell and his orders.

"That's him, it seems," Scrooge told her. He turned back to the ghost. "So, Mr. Zorzi, why are you dead?"

He tilted his head as he listened to the response, frowning deeply.

"Hell of a way to find out you were Sensitive. Where was this exactly?"

He listened, brow furrowing further in confusion.

"Lad, near as I can tell from the maps of the area, there's nothing out there. Especially nothing a baker like you'd be interested in. Why did you go out there?"

The ghost gave a helpless shrug.

"...I'll add that to my list of things to look into. I take it you need help getting Where you're going."

A nod.

"All right. Let's take this outside then." He looked back at Magica. "I'll be a few minutes. Sorry about this."

Edited 2022-07-30 03:28 (UTC)

Well that explained... absolutely nothing. Magica glanced at the assistant, wondering if she'd have any answers, but then decided none would really be satisfactory. So she waved a dismissive hand. "Do what you must. Poe is probably having a nervous breakdown from me being around a man this long."

It was snark, but not wholly inaccurate snark.

Scrooge gave a laugh. "I'll let you get back to him then."

He then started to walk out the door, the ghost drifting along with him.

Irabella blinked at Magica before realizing what she was likely trying to imply. "Oh! Um, I've never seen it in person before, but Mr. McDuck can talk to spirits. He's one of the few that can actually Send them, too, not just talk to them." She shivered. "Honestly, ghosts give me the willies."

Mortals were really such cowards. What was the point of being afraid of something you could one day be?

"If something like that upsets you, I doubt you'll last long here." A blend of sardonic and sincerity. "This land is full of witchcraft and darkness. If you can't handle it, you shouldn't waste your boss's time."

"They just creep me out," she said. "As long as I don't make them mad at me, I can do the job, right?"

She gave a nervous smile.

Meanwhile, Scrooge walked some distance away from the manor. He shook his head as Giancarlo looked up from where he was working on the final touches of the generator.

"Alright, Mr. Zorzi. Let's see about getting you out of here."

He spun on one foot, drawing a circle with his free foot. Normally he wouldn't bother with the extra step, but this entire area...something was wrong with it. He didn't want to summon the Door and attract every nasty in the area. (Once things were back under control, maybe he'd consider casting this without the circle if need be.)

Anyone with magical senses would send the sudden flare of whispering spiritual magic with a hint of fae influence.

He raised his hands above his head and began drawing the Door with his fingertips, even the mortal eye seeing an arched door of golden light.

Magica rolled her eyes before walking away. If this woman had to ask, she probably already had her answer. Just focus on the money and future happiness... and that all these interlopers would someday leave. Then it would just be her, Poe, and Ratface again. As it should be. As it always would be.

That's what she wanted - so she told herself.

As for Poe, he was certainly not expecting to feel a sudden rush of magic in the area - especially not fae magic. He and his sister had been warned about those sort of creatures, so he swiftly went to the window to try and figure out what was going on. Color him surprised to see that it was the old millionaire as the cause! He frowned, though the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. A long-lived adventurer definitely had more luck on his side if his blood was sprinkled with fae blends... was it possible Scrooge didn't even know what was part of him? Poe wound up biting hard on his lower lip - his curiosity was piqued. It'd been so long since he could learn something new, his brain ached for lessons.

Unaware of his audience, Scrooge continued, finishing the image of the Door. He looked to his left where Zorzi stood beside him, now visible to anyone in the area...though being dead, he didn't cast a shadow.

"You ready, lad?"

Zorzi nodded. "Thank you, Mr. McDuck."

"Take care of yourself."

Scrooge placed his hand on the middle of the Door and gave it a push, opening it. Anyone looking at it later on wouldn't be able to describe just what they saw or smelled or heard coming from the open Door later on, their living minds blocking the memory for no living person was meant to see the Other Side. But Zorzi had beamed and dashed through the Door.

Scrooge hesitated, feeling that familiar pull to walk through as well.

Then, with great effort, he shut the Door, the glowing outline vanishing.

Scrooge would get a few quiet moments of solitude, but only a few - Poe was suddenly right behind him, his appetite needing to be sated.

"Where do I even begin?" He asked, hand under his beak, looking Scrooge up and down as if he could have possibly missed a gigantic clue about him before. "It seems you'll be making yourself even busier during your stay here."

Scrooge blinked slowly for a moment, still half-lost in that urge to re-open the Door and step through it himself.

Then he gave his head a hard shake, clearing it. "Given whatever mess is going on around here, I imagine a lot of spirits are going to be showing up even without me calling them. Sorry in advance."

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One million years later...

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