Chapter Text
Willing her footsteps to be quieter than her heart pounding in her chest, Amity creeps through the living room to the entrance of her father’s lab.
She knows he’s already gone to bed for the night- she heard his distinctive shuffle up the stairs- but being in his workspace without him there has always creeped her out. Which is saying something, given how creepy it is when he is there.
She traces a quick spell circle, depositing a small, pink light orb into the room, and wills it to stay together long enough for her to find what she’s looking for. Sidestepping the abomination goo littering the floor, Amity makes her way over to the boxes of parts slotted into sturdy shelves built into the wall.
Each is labeled with her mother’s neat handwriting, in an attempt to organize the clutter somewhat. Amity has helped her father out with his work enough to know that she’ll find pieces in the wrong containers more often than not anyway.
She pulls out 3 boxes to start with, piling the pieces she came for between her feet, and absentmindedly sorts the items she doesn’t need into their proper places. If anything, it will make her job easier the next time her father calls her into the lab to hand him tools or build something on the side for him.
Working with her father is always a mixed bag. She hates assisting him in the way her mother usually does; it’s a lot of scrambling to get him the correct wrench or screw at the right moment, or holding things still for him while he loudly and unkindly tells her what to do next. He’d never speak to her mom that way, but her parents have never managed down very well.
Amity likes it when he trusts her to do the assembly herself. It’s pleasant, working with her hands; the task is calming in its mindlessness, but requires just enough concentration that she isn’t able to think too hard about anything else. Her father’s silence, normally cold and distant, feels almost companionable as he sits beside her, working on something of his own. Almost.
Amity looks between her feet, adjusting her stance as the crouch she’s been sitting in starts to cut off the circulation in her legs. She’s got the wood she needs, and the screwdriver, screws, hinges, folding saw... she just needs some sort of mesh.
Normally she’d summon an abomination to get the boxes from the top shelf, but tonight, she opts to climb directly up the shelves, clinging with one hand. She locates the containers of miscellaneous items, pulling one into the edge of a lower shelf so she can rifle around.
It’s full of all sorts of little oddities, comparable to the sort of junk Eda brings home from her outings. Amity hates to admit it, but she bets her father would love the Owl House. She pushes past some chains, a metal badge, a sharp hook, her mother’s missing broach, and some marbles, and finds what she is looking for.
She grabs the roll of fabric, as well as a couple other knick-knacks that may come in handy, and throws them onto the floor, climbing down carefully. Satisfied, Amity piles the collection into the edge of her shirt, folded up like a bag.
Harsh darkness snaps back into place around her as her light spell finally dissipates, and Amity almost screams. Trembling from the surprise, she stands stock-still, waiting for her eyes to adjust. She stares at the doorway for any sign of a threat, even though she knows the reason for her scare was nothing external.
When no menacing figure reveals itself, Amity takes a deep breath and makes her way back to her room.
--
Luz frowns, twirling her pen between her fingers. A row of failed glyph combinations sit before her, copied in duplicate for her notes. If she can figure out what piece is missing from her logic puzzle, she may be able to edit one she already tried.
She had been encouraged by her success with the invisibility spell. It was hard, sure, but the excitement she felt when she slapped the glyph against her chest and she actually disappeared like she intended to was unparalleled.
Luz had spent a long time the night before thinking of different spells to try and reverse-engineer into a glyph combination. Currently, she’s attempting to hover. She’d like to build up to flight, but she figures she should try baby steps first.
She taps the pen against her lips impatiently. Met with the bitter taste of ink, Luz starts, bringing the tip away from her face and wiping her mouth off on her palm. She flips the pen around, but does not try to chew on it again.
“Ugh.”
“NEED A BREAK?”
Hooty swings into view before her, wiggling above her sheets of notes. Luz gently places her palm on the side of his large face, pushing him back just a little bit.
“That’s okay Hooty, I need to concentrate.”
“OKAY, I’LL JUST TELL HER TO LEAVE THEN.” Hooty says, “EVEN THOUGH SHE SCARES ME. THAT’S JUST HOW GOOD A FRIEND I AM.”
“Who?” Luz stands, looking towards the open door.
Amity leans into view through the doorway, smiling tensely.
“Oh, Amity!” Luz grins, abandoning her notes, and gives Hooty a gentle pat to dismiss him, hoping he will make the wise decision to not touch Amity again, “Come on in!”
“Sure.”
Amity slips inside, pointedly avoiding eye-contact with the owl. She joins Luz on the couch, leaving a gap between them, but angles her knees in her direction.
“What brings you to the Owl House today?”
“Well...” Amity brings her bag into her lap, not meeting Luz’s eyes, “I... had a gift for you.”
She clears her throat, holding a small wooden box shyly in Luz’s direction, in the same manner that she presented the fairy pie.
Delighted by the lack of suffering creatures this time- although she’s not sure what’s inside yet, she supposes- Luz excitedly scoops it out of Amity’s outstretched hand. She savors the feeling of Amity’s palm against her fingers as she takes the gift.
It’s a rectangular wooden box, Luz notes, with a handle on one of the longer sides. In front of the handle is what appears to be a small red switch.
One of the shorter sides of the box is covered by a lid, secured by a neat metal clasp in front, and two hinges on the back. There’s a large square cut into most of the lid, with mesh secured over the top from the inside.
Luz feels the shape of grooves with her fingers as she inspects the lid, and flips the box over to see Amity’s signature- her initials and a pentagram- carved neatly into the bottom.
She looks curiously at Amity, who watches her without saying a word.
“What is it?”
Amity taps her fingers slowly against her knees.
“If it’s well designed, then the user should be able to figure it out on their own.”
She has clearly made this contraption herself, Luz notes, and after seeing the kinds of things the Blight family normally builds, she’s almost nervous. Still, she trusts Amity to not blow her up. On purpose, at least.
Luz flicks the switch.
Clack.
There’s a sound like two pieces of wood knocking together. Luz looks cautiously through the mesh once more, but can see less than she could before. Now something’s blocking the inside.
She undoes the latch, but the box is now closed by two pieces of wood.
Amity smiles.
Luz closes the lid- just in case - and flicks the switch again.
Clack.
Another sound as the wooden pieces fall away, and light shines out of the box.
“Oh!”
Luz points it at her palm, smiling at the beam projected from the device, like a flashlight.
She undoes the hinge, glancing quickly at Amity to make sure she isn’t trying to stop her, and watches with delight as a light orb floats out of the box.
“Wow Amity, you made a flashlight!”
Luz has seen a number of magic-powered objects since she’s come to the Isles, but she’s still impressed that Amity was able to create one herself. As far as she can tell, magic is embedded in the objects somehow, like with palisman staffs or the Healing Hat.
“Yes.” Amity says, leaning in. She’s still watching Luz expectantly; did she skip a step?
Luz closes the lid once more, flicking the switch back and forth to summon another light orb, making sure there isn’t anything else that she’s supposed to be doing.
“You enchanted this yourself?” Luz asks, “How do you get the magic inside?”
“It’s not enchanted,” Amity says, softly.
“Hm?”
Luz meets Amity’s wide golden eyes. The other girl still looks like she expects something from her, and a thought occurs to her suddenly.
Luz unlatches the top, letting the light orb drift away to join the first, and carefully reaches into the box, brushing her fingers against one of the wooden flaps hanging against the inside. She lifts it, carefully, and feels the other side of it.
It’s engraved.
The carved side of the panel faces inwards, so she has to go by touch alone, following the curve of two circles on the outside, and the sharp corner of a triangle-
“Is this a light glyph??” Luz exclaims, excitedly, lifting and feeling the second panel.
Amity smiles, her tapping returning a little more forcefully. She seems to notice what she is doing, and tucks her fingers under her legs.
“Yes.”
“You made a flashlight that uses light glyphs!”
“I wanted to see if we could make the process more automatic than you drawing the glyphs all the time.” Amity says, bringing her hands back in front of her, gesturing with them as she speaks, “You already embedded them with objects before, on that mace at Grom. I thought a design that directs the light may be a little more helpful for you than just something that produces light orbs and lets them go.”
“How does it work?”
“This one’s pretty simple. The panels are two halves of a light glyph, and flicking the switch brings them together, activating the spell.”
“Amity, this is so cool.” Luz grins widely at her, clicking the switch a couple of times and watching as a stronger beam pours out from within.
“Careful,” Amity warns, “this is just a beta design, it hasn’t been tested comprehensively. I don’t know what happens when you fill that thing with too much light at once.”
“Can you make things with the other glyphs?” Luz asks, grabbing Amity’s hand.
“I can, but they’ll only do the specific thing they’re built for. Since there’s no witch commanding them, they’re not as versatile as the glyph magic you use.” Amity explains, “For example, if you wanted to build an ice cube dispenser, that’s all it can make. It can never create bigger ice, or different shapes, I’d have to build something else that’s intended to do that.”
“That makes sense...” Luz says, opening the hatch and releasing the light. She flicks the switch closed and open, watching another float into the air, then closed and open again, and again, until several orbs float around her head, no drawing required.
“I have more sophisticated blueprints, I just wanted to try something simple first.” Amity says, unfolding a piece of paper and revealing a design that really does look a lot like a flashlight. Around the drawing, her neat handwriting details the technical considerations needed to create the finished product.
Luz smiles. In the corner of the page, beside Amity’s copyright notice and signature, the witch has given her blueprints a title:
A Gift for Luz.
