The Owl House S1: Amity's Plight

Adventures in Demon Sitting

Amity still hadn't met Edric and Emira despite spotting them; or at least illusions of them perhaps, in the audience of the witch's duel earlier that day. Her parents still weren't home, and the house was quiet except for the squishy foot falls of the abomibutler that took Amity's cowl and offered her tea. She was still exhausted and hurt in every which way from the events of the Covention, and having a silent evening in the house sounded perfect. School was still tomorrow, and she would need to study for her Shaping class. The Moonlight Conjuring she had planned for the night after was still a thing as well, though if her old Grudgeby team still wanted to be associated with an embarrassment like her remained to be seen. She frowned, finding that she had already made her way to her room and was cuddling her Otabin plushie despite not recalling the climb up the stairs. Her mind was truly frazzled, and she cursed that human for ever arriving on the Boiling Isles. Amity began running a bath, placing her Magic 101 text on the side for the tub to grab in a claw like appendage. Being able to soak and relax with no one to bother her was exactly....

A knock on the door made her pause. Her older siblings of course had keys, her parents shouldn't be home until far later in the evening, and the local cult solicitors knew better than to enter the gate, let alone manage to get to the front door of Blight Manor. She started down the stairs, able to hear the abomibutler shamble to the door to answer it. "I swear, if it's somehow that human, I will destroy her." she said aloud, reaching the corner of the staircase as the door was opened. The abomibutler moved aside to allow a hulking, grey skinned demon wearing a white tunic, grey cowl, and black pants and boots step through. Beneath his cowl where most witch's had a face was nothing more than a fang filled maw that turned toward her as she continued to descend the steps. "Mr. Wrath, what are... I mean, what can I do for you?"

"I apologize for such short notice, Ms. Blight. I've come to ask if you would be willing to look after Braxas tonight as I have been called for an emergency to the Conformatorium." Mr. Wrath said. He was the Warden of the Emperor's rehabilitation center for wild witches and anyone that couldn't bring themselves to conform to civilized society. He was also a single parent, his partner having met a tragic end some time ago, leaving him to take care of his son alone. Rumor has it that he had high hopes for a new relationship, but had old fashioned tastes that modern witches and demons didn't share.

Amity looked away, feeling guilty. She really needed this time to recuperate, but at the same time, every situation was an opportunity to learn, grow, and make oneself useful. "I..." she hesitated.

Wrath turned, showing the small toddler in his arms. Braxas was the mirror image of his father, aside from his brimstone red skin and cute dimples on either side of his maw when he was trying not to smile. He whispered something barely audible to his father, who leaned in closer, asking the toddler to repeat his words.

"I like her green hair." Braxas repeated in such a deep gravelly voice that Amity could feel it ripple the air around her.

"Why thank you, Braxas." Amity smiled. She was tired, but hoped witchling sitting for the evening wouldn't be too hectic. The Warden set his son down, who looked up at the large abomibutler and then reached out for one of his father's powerful legs to cling too. "Don't worry about him. He's like a big gooey pussycat." Amity assured him, reaching the bottom of the stairs. "Is there a crow I can contact in case of emergency, and when do you think you'll be back to pick him up?"

Wrath nodded. "I knew you would be the one I could trust, Ms. Amity. Again, I do apologize for the short notice." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a live crow, its wings flapping and its beak nipping at the Warden's fingers. "Ugh, these things never work for me!"

"Here, let me." Amity chuckled and gently took the shiny black bird in her hands, cradling its wings. Once it was calm, she let it perch on her finger and she handed it off to the abomibutler.