Black Saturday

II

'Y'know', Rahal said as she set down her duffle bag. Luna turned to her. 'I've been looking into the existence of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks for quite some time. Ever since I got here, in fact.'

At mention of snorkacks, Luna's eyes lit up.

'You have?'

Rahal nodded. 'I fancy myself to be a bituva cryptid hunter. Nothing too serious, outside of the mindless searches I did in Elon forests for various creatures and myths.'

Luna was listening intently. Rahal's eyes flared and she threw her head back a little. 'If you really must know, my favorite place on Earth is considered to be absurdly haunted.'

'By dead snorkacks?'

'By the haunts.' Rahal circled Luna. 'Elon's got the works. Every creature imaginable that is said to haunt the dark recesses of reality, you can find there. Supposedly.'

Rahal sat down. 'I wouldn't be surprised if crumple-horned snorkacks could be found there as well.'

'I really want to visit this Elon place.'

'Maybe I'll take you some day. Depends on if I can get permission.'

'Who do you need permission from?'

'Janvier Halcyon. Just them, really, though Yoshie might not approve of me bringing you along either. You see, it takes quite a bitta energy to hop between worlds.'

Luna clasped her hands around Rahal's. 'Please bring me! I really would love to go.'

'Yeah, sure, I'll see what I can do.'

'What other sorts of creatures did you find there?'

'Ah... Not too much, but the haul was-was decent, I guess. I mean, I got a nice little ape, a mutant lizard, a marshoid reptilian sloth, umm... Hmm, there were several others.'

'Marshoid reptilian sloth? That sounds... made-up.'

Rahal felt an intense pull to the ground, but managed to keep herself sitting upright. 'It's not, trust me. That's really just a fancy little name for a swamp monster, but Elon doesn't really have a swamp.'

Luna said, 'Are there witches and wizards in Elon?'

'No. I 'aven't found too many legit magickal beings on Seventh Earth. The powers that be there, they were infinitely more successful at squashing out what you call magic.'

'Are you sure that they're not ignorant to the wizarding world?'

'Oh no, trust me. It didn't take but a few seconds before I sniffed magic all 'round the place here. Whenever I come across anything like it on Seventh Earth, I can tell immediately. Of course, where I come from, we are nowhere near as close-minded about what constitutes magic.'

Luna cocked her head. 'What do you mean?'

Rahal lowered her head. 'This world doesn't consider electricity to be magic, do ye? Well...! On Navia, we see electricity as being one of the most potent forms of magicka. He who masters the 'lectric school masters the world. Bloody 'ell, that's why I discovered Electric Wizard in the first place— we Navians already coined the phrase millennia ago, and yet some Midland lads thought it to be a good name for their heavy rock band.'

Rahal noted that Luna looked contemplative, as if she had been convinced to seek out this band that she had kept on mentioning.

'So, I told you that I'd disclose everything about my world, now didn't I? Listen up, and listen good— I haven't the patience to piss up your ears about this again. I said before that I'm a high elf. The world I hail from is a pile of crusty cock, and it's been that way for a long, long time. Longer than my grandfather can remember, and the gormless ponce has been around for 3 ages, but it was made worse by a madman, Kyaman Bol'Yaga, a dark lord with a death wish who used his magic to blow the world's largest volcano. That blast set us back and made us all desperate. Like I was saying, there's this head witch elf, Sevedy Mickette. Right bombshell; she's gotten admirers across all genders. She's scrapped together everything she thought she needed to create an order based upon the ideals of 'magickal fascismo'. You know how fascists are— they're not even chanced about their lust for power. That's all Mickette wants, is power. The kalashnis at Janvier and Trinity know right to call 'er 'Big Sister', and she revels in the title. She's a living reaction to Bol'Yaga's civilization-wide homicide.'

'This 'Bol'Yaga' character, you said he was a dark lord.'

'If you're asking if he's like Moldybutt, I'd say they're on equal levels of insanity.'

'No, I just wanted to know why would he throw away his power if—'

Rahal laughed. 'Oh! Right. Perhaps I should've said that first about 'im, that when I said he was a dark lord, that included when he blew the canotop. Some trash hero and his goons fought Bol'Yaga pretty far.' Rahal looked straight down, hiding her eyes behind her hair. 'My father was part of that hero's gang.'

'Really? That's fascinating.'

'Indeed. You can blame his ass for me being the puffy wretch I am, because he was drowning in gold 'n pussy after returning home. Of course, he was one of only three to return home. That group had pushed Bol'Yaga back and ended his pitiful little dark reign, but Bol'Yaga didn't want to go down without a fight.'

'So that's why he triggered the volcano.'

'Yes. That killed most of the heroes, but hey— Bol'Yaga was gone too, so no one was complaining about that one. It was the damn volcanic winter that wrecked everything else. It was insane how awful things got after that...'

Luna's eyes seemed to blink less and less often as she dug her hands into her cheeks. 'Volcanic winter?'

Rahal sat back. 'Yeah. You ever heard of a nuclear winter? It's just as bad as that, though obviously not radioactive. But magickal toxicity is arguably worse than radioactivity.' Rahal then began fiddling with her duffle bag. 'I'll tell you more after I spizen a doughnut.

Rahal conjured a pan and pulled a pastry from her bag. She dropped the pastry into the pan and drizzled magical sparks onto the top. The pastry sizzled, popped, and browned, and a sweetly aroma sifted through the air. Meanwhile, Luna had stood atop a stool and was painting a face onto her ceiling. There were a few faces on the ceiling, particularly one that was clearly Ginerva Weasley. However, she noticed the outline of herself.

After she had finished cooking, Rahal wiggled her fingers and strawberries popped into existence over the pastry.

Luna looked down at the dish and said, 'You love strawberries, don't you?'

'What? No, I hate them. Worst fruit ever. They're right putrid. If there is a God, He fucked up. If there isn't, evolution failed.'

Luna laughed. 'You really are a terrible liar.'

'I've always been a terrible liar. That's just my nature. Can't be helped. All chaosborns are terrible liars.'

'What's a chaosborn?'

'It's what I am. Hadn't I told you?'

Luna shook her head.

'Damn! You'd better pop writing that friendship mantra by my portrait. Yeah, I coulda sworn I said it before that I'm a special breed of elf.'

The pastry was crunchy and flaky like a croissant, but as they ate it, they both enjoyed its incredible sweetness.

'I've never heard of such a thing.'

'Oh, it's right fascinating. Chaosborns such as myself are pretty much all the same. It's terrifying.'

Xenophilius came into the room wearing goofy spectacles that Rahal didn't recognize. He had been carrying a multitude of odd rucksacks, all filled to the brim with rustling artifacts that Rahal could tell sounded like second-hand fakes that he had probably bought under the impression that they were mystical and mysterious items.

'I hope you don't mind the mess, Ms. Rahal.'

'Not at all. Messes are my natural habitat. I was just talking to dear ol' Luna about the nature of chaosborns.'

Xenophilius's eyes lit up. 'Chaosborns?'

'Yeah, Imma chaosborn. Gather 'round the sprata, Senior Lovegood! It is a filly little tale I have to tell.'