Characters: Regina Mills & Thurvishar D'Lorus What: Regina and Thurvishar investigate the recently-appeared lighthouse for traps, and find one When: Last week Warnings: None!
The stone lighthouse clung to the edge of the cliff as if it has been there forever. The attached keeper’s house was in a slightly less-precious position, facing the stone walkway lined with sea grass, the entranceway painted an inviting hunter green. It looked functional, not particularly fancy, but waves of magic vibrated from within, contained but still felt. Thurvishar D’Lorus turned to his companion, his voice light on purpose: “I’ve never entered through the door. Always just opened a gate directly inside. The wards must be botched.”
Thurvishar strode toward the door, feeling a bit silly as he twisted the doorknob. What if it was locked? He’d had access to this place since very literally infancy; it rejecting him now in front of another magic-user would be quite the blow to his ego. He had asked Regina for her assistance with the Lighthouse, not knowing exactly what to expect, but had explained that it was used primarily as a place to rest and research - time sped quickly within its halls, while the world continued to drag outside. Naturally their enemies had found the Lighthouse just as useful. Thurvishar didn’t believe the Lighthouse itself to be a negative force, but having another magic-user here - and one as accomplished as Regina - was a comfort.
And he figured if things went sideways, she’d at least have a ready sarcastic quip for them to console themselves with as they died horribly.
But the door opened, easily, the feeling of magic growing stronger, and as Thurvishar stepped through, ducking a little due to his height, he felt the same strange settling that he’d always felt teleporting into the Lighthouse. As soon as Regina stepped through, he closed the door behind them, marveling at the darkness that swallowed them both as he cast a light. There were no windows. The door sealed behind them, and disappeared from the inside.
Thurvishar gave it a wave. “It does that automatically - the magic’s smart enough to prevent a leak. We can open a gate back out.” At least he had publicly stated where they’d be. ...just in case.
He found an old oil lantern, lit it, and the place exploded in light. That had been enchanted, too. The interior of the keeper’s house was comfortable, if bare of decorations, with stone-carved furniture and piles of books everywhere to be seen. “Do we do the clever thing and stay together,” Thurvishar asked, “or do we do the timely thing and split up?” He knew which one he preferred; his expression mirroring his preference.
Regina didn’t normally do these things anymore - help people, that is. She had tried being the good guy and all that had gotten her was the death of her friends, her soulmate, and being on the run with her son from his maniacal grandfather through different worlds, before being sent into another universe. And when she had gotten those friends back in this new universe, where she tried to set down roots and be the good guy once again? They had been sent away again and then she herself had been sent through to yet another universe.
It was draining and she was tired of it. It’s why, despite getting Bonnie back and reforging a connection with Sabrina, she didn’t go full in on helping others when there was a magical crisis happening. There were plenty of other powerful magical users that were all too happy to play a role that she could no longer maintain. She was constantly lecturing Bonnie and Sabrina about not overextending themselves, but she could only do so much with that.
So she kept to her life, healed the idiots that decided to play big damn heroes, and babysat when something was going on. And somehow still, she occasionally found herself caught up in the middle of it, when there was a magical problem. Usually because it was connected to someone she had known a version of or because it was someone Regina had taken an interest in talking to.
Today’s case was the latter.
Blinking and letting her eyes adjust to the sudden brightness of the room, she gave him a look. “If we were in a horror movie right now, you would be the first death. I just want you to know that now.” Turning to give the room they were in a proper look now that they had some light, she added, “We’re sticking together.” It wasn’t just for Thurvishar’s benefit either. The feel of magic to this place was foreign to Regina and if something had gone wrong when the lighthouse was being pulled into this universe, she didn’t want to face off against any retaliatory magic she wasn’t familiar with. Or any traps, like Thurvishar had feared this place might contain. Not without some kind of backup. “Does this place feel off to you?”
“Yes,” Thurvishar answered immediately and honestly, having known she wasn’t the sort to abide by sugar-coating. “It’s always... if you’re able to sense magic, it’s disorienting, at first. Like how it takes you a few days to get your sea legs, if you’re on a boat.” He squinted at the living room, so cozy and inviting, the fire in the fireplace eternally bright. It all looked how he’d left it, the last time he’d been here with… was it Kihrin? He thought so. Yes, there was Kihrin’s sketches left right on the dining table, less-than-flattering likenesses in ink of everyone. “But this feels…” There simply wasn’t a better word for it than Regina’s original one: “-off.”
With a nod toward the darkened halls, he stepped forward, and they travelled toward the side rooms. The core of the lighthouse and its keeper’s house always remained the same, but its appendages were apt to-- shift. Sprout add-ons, new rooms, higher ceilings. He never knew quite what to expect.
“This dimension was used by my adoptive grandfather,” he explained as they approached the kitchen on the left, pantry on the right. Everything seemed fine. “Horrible person,” he added for Regina’s benefit, giving a sideways smile that didn’t mean much. “Unfortunately, though he’s long since gone, he gave other horrible people access to it. The magic here… it doesn’t play favorites. My friends and allies use it, our enemies use it, back and forth. Hence my concern. I understand you’ve had your fair share of dealing with dimensional magics, so tell me if you sense anything.”
It was difficult to parse what she was feeling, but ‘off balance’ was the closest she was able to get as she listened to Thurvishar talk about the building and why they were there to explore it. Not great family members was something she could sympathize with and traveling through worlds, feeling even the minutiae of differences between them was something she was very familiar with.
“You have to understand that all of this feels different for me. From my own magic to what Vallo’s magic feels like to me,” she said, hands out in front of her and glowing slightly purple, a telltale sign of her magic in play. Nothing attacked them at the emergence of her magic though, so she counted that as a small victory. “I feel...not quite unanchored, but something similar. I felt us stepping into something that wasn’t all Vallo when we entered through the door, but this place is still connected to it.”
On a tugging whim, she stopped in front of a door and her magic grew brighter. Closing her fingers into fists, the purple glow faded and she reached into her pocket to pull out a mirror - something she had created for Loki’s use a few days ago. Holding it up to the door, she peered in. “Something’s in there. I can’t see it clearly,” she explained, stepping back and putting the mirror back. She opened up her right palm and a fireball appeared, “But it’s not friendly. I’m guessing these other horrible people didn’t like the idea of you using this place?”
He was eyeing her mirror with the air of someone who desperately wanted to ask several questions as to how it worked and yet was restraining themselves because it wasn’t the appropriate time. “That’s-- useful,” Thurvishar managed, never one not to ooh and ahh over interesting magic, and dropped his longing stare long enough to look back at the closed door they were facing. “And yes, you’re right. Some of them would just leave minor traces of themselves, like they’d eat my food or leave sarcastic notes in the shared library.” Senera had enjoyed folding back the pages of an ancient tome he favored, the monster. “But others…”
He let the words linger a moment, eyeing the door. He waited until he saw Regina’s hands spark purple - it was as good a tell as any - and drew up a ready-to-deploy magical barrier of his own in his left hand. With a significant nod of his chin, Thurvishar thrust open the door and took a step back.
Nothing. An empty sitting room, a loom in the corner. But Thurvishar trusted Regina’s assessment more than he trusted the appearance of nothing, and so he wasn’t shocked when a green, noxious gas began billowing from a lamp on the wall, triggered by the opening of the door. His barrier bought them time, but only a few seconds - the gas was eating away at the magical spell with the efficiency of acid.
Mirror magic was absolutely one of her specialities, having been known to travel through them or trap people with them as well. She had been working on some higher level mirror magic to try and get out of Vallo, but then Henry had arrived and she had abandoned that project. Because if there was one thing that could soothe her, it was having her son around. “I’ll let you play with it later,” she smirked, when she caught him staring at the mirror before she had put it away.
Regina let Thurvishar take the lead on the room and when he opened the door and the gas started to appear, she extinguished the flames in her hand and tapped into her aerokinesis. Elemental magic had become second nature to her and manipulating air was easy enough. Waving her hands out and then inward toward her body, she started to gather the noxious air into a tight circle while Thurvishar’s barrier prevented them from immediately dying. “Window?” She asked, eyes steady on the gas to make sure she didn’t let any escape.
Thurvishar did her one better and opened a gate - a small one, but a hungry one. The gate sucked the gas efficiently inside, Thurvishar’s hands imperceptibly shaking as he manipulated it, but a few moments later, the air was clear and breathable. He dropped the barrier and closed the gate, taking a breath.
“That gate led to my apartment’s bathroom,” he observed pleasantly with the air of someone muttering “oh, fuck me” - but was too polite to actually say it. “First place I could think of - it’s got hexes and filters all over it after the blood mage coven managed to sneak past my wards, and the stone work will stand against that gas until it dissolves. Won’t take longer than thirty minutes or so, but I’ll likely have to purchase new shower gel.” Ugh. His eyes flicked to her. “Good elemental magic.” He notably didn’t ask if she was alright, although he’d clearly checked to ensure it - Regina seemed like the sort to communicate if she was injured rather than hide it.
“Hope you don’t have a nosy roommate,” Regina said, cheerfully, dropping her hands and taking a better look around the room. Nothing other than the loom caught her eye and she approached it, reaching out to touch it and stopping just short of it. She should know better when it comes to looms. “Enchanted?” She asked, head tilted curiously as she felt out and tried to sense any particular magic attached to it. She wasn’t sure if he was familiar with the story tales from her world and she hadn’t offered up much of her past to anyone, but it wouldn’t be the first time an enchanted loom interfered in the path of her life.
She dropped her hand and turned away from it, looking around once more before she nodded out of the door. “Next?”
Thurvishar inclined his head toward the loom. “Likely. It’s been here for a while. This became a sort of… magical attic for safekeeping valuables that weren’t entirely useful, for my family.” He didn’t know her stories - at least, not the one she was likely thinking of. Fairy tales were something he’d dipped his toe into, but nothing more, and he’d never established the habit of looking up residents to pry into their secrets.
With a gesture, he indicated the rooms at the back of the house. “Let’s clear these, and once we’re done, I’ll make you the Quur hot beverage of choice in thanks for us not getting murdered to death, assuming the spices are still good. Do you like chai? It’s a great deal like a chai.”
Regina had absolutely looked up everyone that came through, especially if they were powerful. She didn’t trust many people - she could probably count the ones she did on one hand - and if she could have an advantage over them, she would take it. It’s just how she was built - paranoia and fantastic legs all rolled into one body. But she didn’t bother to read too much beyond the wikipedia articles and the ones for Thurvishar were sorely lacking.
Wiggling her fingers, they started to glow purple again. “I’ll take your Quur version of chai, but I’m definitely going to call in a favor at some point.” She collected those like they were currency and one from someone like the man with her now was valuable.
Thurvishar nodded politely, having suspected as much, and led them onward. Favors were well-familiar to him, as a member of a noble family - they were currency for powerful people who could already buy whatever they wanted in coin. The rooms were empty, however - nothing strange or out of place, no more traps or hidden messages to be found.
A half-hour later found Thurvishar grinding up spices from the well-stocked pantry, toasting them on a flame and steeping them with coconut cream. He worked efficiently; this drink was something he’d made a thousand times before, and was at ease in the kitchen, never having been one to rely on a servant when he could do it himself.
“Was that why you agreed to assist me?” he asked, his voice curious rather than judgmental or miffed. “Was there something specific you had in mind, or is it just for a rainy day?” He didn’t see the point of not asking directly; he had a feeling she was a woman who either told the truth or lied brazenly, with no in between.
“Not entirely, no,” Regina said, watching as he made her promised drink. “You seemingly have a good head on your shoulders and you’re not irritating. So I’m more inclined to help than not. The favor’s a bonus, something for the future when something inevitably goes wrong.” Red lips curled up into a smirk. “But you can relax, I’m not going to ask for anything ridiculous or your first born. I can be fair.”
Though now she kind of got why people wanted babies in exchange for magical favors sometimes. She loved Henry, but there was no doubt that she was itching to have another child to raise and the traditional way of having one was out. Still, she was above Rumplestiltskin-ing this.
Thurvishar, who had no concept of her train of thought regarding his hypothetical future children, presented her with a hot mug of Quur’s national drink: kal. “It’s hot back home,” he explained, “at least in my corner of the Empire. Most of our food is spiced accordingly.” He’d have to take some of these spices back to his apartment, he mused, provided that he hadn’t destroyed everything with the noxious mist.
He grabbed his own mug and sat across from her, pushing some of the papers out of the way. Thurvishar found the Lighthouse comfortable now, but it was due more to concentration than real acceptance. He’d spent too many lonely nights trapped here as a boy to be fully at peace with it, and so he pitched a question somewhere between talking shop and getting-to-know-you. “You’ve been to more dimensions than most. How do you find this one? Vallo?” he clarified.
Wrapping her hands around the offered mug, she inclined her head slightly in silent thanks. Anything with spice in it already appealed to her senses, but when she lifted it to her lips to blow away the steam and help it cool faster, the smells tempted her to burn her tongue by drinking it too quickly.
She stopped herself and instead refocused on the conversation. “This one is...noisy. I have something called magic sensing in my world and I can pick up on different threads of magic. And with so many different kinds of magic users here, it can be a lot. Especially when something big happens, like that snowglobe event.” That had been a mess and a half. “It’s tolerable, though, since my son arrived. What about you? How are you finding it and having pieces of your world showing up here?”
“I find it quiet,” he answered dryly, and off of her expression laughed and explained: “I was telepathic at home. My witch gift; I was born with it. But when I arrived here, I found my gift much dampened. I can get moods, sometimes an idea when someone’s lying, but... ” He took a careful sip of his own drink. “Initially I hated it, because I was certain this was a trick of the gods, or close-enough. It felt like one of my senses had been leveled. But it’s nice to concentrate on my magic rather than on internal politics now.” Understatement.
“And I’m glad to have the Lighthouse here. It’ll be useful, especially once it’s warded properly.” The fire gave a pop, and he glanced at it, light gleaming from his dark eyes. “Like all magical items, it’s been used for ill,” he didn’t specify how, there were some things you didn’t share off-the-bat due to their tendency to bring the mood down, “but we’ve a good community of conscientious magic-workers here that won’t abuse its purpose.” He smiled, then, like a polite shark: “And if they do, we’ve ways of addressing that.”
Regina knew there was more to the man in front of her than met the eye, that he wasn’t just some quiet bookworm with a mind for research. None of them were what they seemed, but she was still surprised by the quiet threat in his words. Oh, that was interesting.
Eyebrows raised, she observed, “There’s more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there?” It wasn’t something she expected an answer for, so she moved on. “I suppose you’ll be splitting your time between here and the DOA then? Any interesting projects in the works?”
As she suspected, Thurvishar moved on to her addressable question with the smoothness of it never having been asked in the first place. “Oh, I’m drowning in projects,” he said, and gestured to nothing in particular. “The new position as Lead Magical Researcher is taking up a chunk of my time, although I’ve tapped some people for assistance.” He was grateful for Bonnie Bennett’s expertise; he would have been flailing otherwise.
“I’ve got a few side things I’m looking at, as well. Mostly related to memory updates others have experienced.” Serefin’s challenges were his own; Thurvishar was not the sort to spread rumor. He looked back at Regina, tilting his head. “Now that you’ve done a good deed for the month, is that it, or could I cajole you to discussing how your mirror works? It’s quite the useful tool.” A smile crossed his mouth, and he didn’t bother not to look hopeful. Talking shop was Thurvishar’s favorite thing to do - it relaxed him - and while it had been said more than once that he needed hobbies that weren’t closely related to work, he supposed this also counted as socializing, did it not? The fact that it was socializing with a powerful, incisive witch was just icing on the cake. It made him miss Senera, just a little. (Oh gods, she and Regina weren’t that dissimilar to one another, were they?)
“You know, I worked on something for memory updates in my last world. Something to stop them from happening and devastating people, when they drank the potion I created,” Regina said, leaning forward and smiling innocently. She remembered still how grateful the Magicians crew had been...and how many favors she had gotten in return.
“I could help you with that project, if it has anything to do with that.” Matching the Thurvishar’s head tilt, she shrugged. “Or we can talk about the mirror, if that’s more interesting to you.” She reached into her pocket, pulling it out. It was a handheld wood carved mirror, black with a simple pearl inlay. Pushing it across the table to her companion to let him examine it, she explained, “It’s enchanted with a looking glass spell, something that allows you to see through other magic in addition to physical barriers. It works on a lot, but not all things, especially when coming across other types of magic.”
“Potentially,” he answered, his face in a pleasant neutral that he held whenever he wasn’t going to give anything away. “Can it prevent the physical effects that occasionally come with memory updates as well?” Truthfully, the concept of a potion which remedied memory updates was fascinating in its applications, but that was something he’d need to ask Ostyia and Serefin - he didn’t wish to speak for them. He likewise minded his manners with her mirror, looking at it carefully and not touching it until she had given the nod. Thurvishar held it carefully in his long fingers with the respectful way he had been taught to afford magical objects. “It’s very much like an augmented scryer,” he murmured, only speaking partially to her. “Not unlike a cornerstone - but more localized. Hmm.”
The uses for something like that. He pushed the mirror back to her and took a sip of his drink, now reasonably cooled. Thurvishar suspected, but didn’t state, that he thought they could learn a great deal from one another - even if he was playing his cards a little closer to the chest. “When we leave this place,” he said, “no time will have passed outside. We’ll exit through a gate - I won’t chance this magic leaking out into Vallo proper.”
"It did. No one lost anymore eyeballs after that potion." Poor Margo, having to wake up without an essential body part. So maybe a tiny bit of compassion had also spurred Regina on in her quest to make a potion that prevented such ugly things from happening. She herself had taken the potion, but she didn't know if the application of that particular magic would stop Vallo from downloading unwanted memories or physical changes. The potion she had created, after all, has been geared for Tumbleweed's brand of fucked up tricks.
Watching the researcher talk to himself as he examined the mirror, she took it back and stood, having finished her drink. "If you need help warding the place once we leave it, let me know. Won't even ask for a favor for that." She wasn't too fond of the idea of time magic leaking out and infecting Vallo.
Thurvishar gave a slight wince at the eyeball reference - little ruffled him, but eye injuries were his thing he hated most of all - and stood, taking her mug and setting it in the sink. “I’ll let you know. Thank you for your help today,” he said, flicking his hand and opening a gate to outside along with a temporary barrier to keep any magic from leaking as she exited. When he had time, he planned on creating a system that gates wouldn’t be required, like it had been back home.
Who was he kidding? With the lighthouse, all he had was time. “I’m sure we’ll meet again.”