The Owl House: Owls See All

Blight of the Ring

The crowd roared in the the underground arenas raised above the dirt fighting pit in the center, the young girl's creation, a golem sorts taller than her by about two feet and made of purple sludge not unlike mucus when one catches a cold in texture, roars.

The crowd cheers as she smirks, her opponent laying in the dirt, beaten into submission beneath her. She explains to him, "Nothing personal, but a girl does have to eat."

The girl straightens her dyed green hair, which isn't hidden by her dark grey cloak, and exits the arena, the abomination, or golem, collapsing into mush on the floor, having served its purpose and now no longer being of service to its master.

She sits in a dingy, run down locker room in a wooden bench, the concrete floors are stained with old blood from injured contestants, and the room reeks of marijuana and body odor. Clearly someone was smoking before their bout, but she's used to the stench by now, not because she smokes, no she's far to young to do that, but because...

Well it's as Eda said.

The Boiling Isles are a cruel place.

A man in a black suit with a red tie enters, standing tall over the young girl as he hands her a was of cash. She starts counting the bills, shame and self hatred in her eyes as she turns her head away from him.

The man is in his early fifties with thinning black hair that's begun to turn grey, a cigar lit in his mouth, yellow teeth, and an aura thar feels shady and corrupt. This sharply contrasts his formal clothes, a contrast enchanted greatly by his toothy smile, a single metal tooth replacing his first mollar on the top left quarter of his mouth.

"You did good kid," he comments, "that should cover food for a couple of weeks."

"What do you want?" the girl sighs, annoyed as she counts the bills. She despises this man and his deceitful demeanour, but the pay is to good to pass up.

"You could work here full time," the man offers, "give up on schooling. You'll be able to life a comfortable life without Covens restricting your magic. You're my top fighter."

"Cause those sickos like Watching a kid get beat up," the girl hisses.

"Maybe," the man chuckles, "but who cares with pay like that? You work full time, I'll triple your pay and cover your living expenses."

"I already have roof over my head," the girl replies, knowing this to be only half true.

"Kid you don't realize the opportunity you have here," he chuckles, crouching to look at her on eye level which she avoids, "you're the cloaked girl who never loses. The Blight of the Ring as they call you. You could retire young and happy if you just worked for me."

"I'm just trying to get by," she replies taking the money and walking towards the door, "I'll let you know when I need another fight."

"Kid I understand you may end up with a few scars but you could retire by thirty," the man exclaims.

"I have enough scars," she glares back, "and that's assuming I'm not killed. I'm not interested."

She leaves, irritated by the manager's attempt to persuade her. As she exits, she chuckles, "foolish old criminal. Every bit of cash I earn is one step closer to wiping this isle clean of scum  like him and his illegal fighting ring."

She lifts her sleeve, revealing a scar burned into her flesh. The shape of the scar is not totally clear, but it's a word, and it ends with the letter "k".

"I'll show them," she chuckles, a tinge of insanity in her voice, "I'm getting closer every day."

She approaches a massive building, the town library, under the blanket of stars. Yet such a blanket doesn't protect her from the cold, so she knows she needs to take shelter from the chill of the night.

She draws a circle with her hands, magic light appearing from her fingertips against a wall, causing the wall to disappear where the circle was drawn and reappear after she enters.

She walks through the abandoned halls of the library, tapping the walls until she finds a spot where it sounds hollow, and using the spell once again to enter a hidden room.

The room is cozy and warm, and to her, it's home. There's many things of note in this room. A diary kept by her, several spell books of various schools of magic, a hammock with a stuffed pink bunny, and a poster.

A girl with green hair is seen on the poster hang above her bed.

"Missing: Amity Blight. Wanted dead or alive. To weak to be a threat in a fight."

The girl lowers her hood and sighs, revealing herself to be the missing Amity in question. She sits at her desk and begins to write in her diary...

"Dear diary: Today I made a good amount of money in the arena. One of the managers, Able, tried to recruit me full time, but I couldn't accept. I have to keep up with my schooling. I have to become stronger, the strongest. When I'm ready I'll prove myself to the Boiling Isles and strike down the Owl Lady as a show of my power. Then they'll see. They'll all see! They won't hurt me anymore! He won't burn me again! He won't-"

Teardrops fell onto the page. Amity wiped away her tears and continued writing.

"You get it. I'm crying so imma go. You're my only real friend..."

Amity sits and slouches in her chair before adding more after a moment of thinking.

"I need real friends."

With that she climbs into her hammock, claps off the lights, clings to her stuffed bunny, and cries herself to sleep...