And so... Thost was born. In her rages a never ending storm of wrath, released in full upon her birth- she caused the three sisters to bleed for what they had done, for the crime they had committed. From them, she took the cloak of pure darkness, adorning it with pride, she remains unseen but always present.

From 'The Mysteries of Thost', Author Unknown

Ramshackle furniture.

Old and worn chairs and tables, curiously not often used. Unlike the army of bookcases that were filled with books of interesting myths, strange compendiums on different creatures and magicks. Rainbows of ooze poured out from dark corners and crevices. Mosses created cushions on.... well the cushions and the vines of hungry plants strangled the life out of each other, each leaf battling for dominance from the other. A law unto their own.

Desks lined the walls with paper, each discoloured a slightly different shade of beige and brown. Leather bound notebooks floated lazily in the air. Occasionally, a world altering secret would be revealed. Stark in contrast to the soft breeze making the pages flutter. Jars and odd trinkets lined shelves. Each were filled with thoughts that could make the mind boggle.

Strange chirps, mewling and whispers could be heard from the collection of the eclectic and strange objects and creatures whilst the light from the three moons- or the 'Three Sisters' as they were so often called- beamed in through small warped windows carved into the wall. Off white and textured- the wall was plastered more in strange dried liquids from ill-begotten experiments and potions than actual plaster. But perhaps the most notable element to this strange space was the thrumming pulse of magic that would take many unsuspecting witches by surprise. It seeped out of every object, orifice, nook and cranny and enveloped one in a peculiar mix of confused emotions.

That's what Lero Rero's flat was usually like.

Small and modest- a place to store their finds and to occasionally take a leisurely nap to recur sleep before diving back into another research project. One that would undoubtedly add more mind-boggling secrets to this living entity of a space. Yet, the place had an even more disastrously disorganised feel to it than usual. “Hmph... someones been here,” Lero murmured, in their usual deadpan tone. As long as their collection of critters hadn't been taken, Lero didn't particularly care what the would be thieves took.

Scanning the rest of the room lazily, Lero noted the blue and red lights and deafening bleats from sirenflies outside the windows. That was nothing new. Not for the people of The Under Brim. A place of thieves, fools and poor witches and fae down on their luck. This wasn't the first time Lero had been robbed and nor would it likely be the last.

On one end of their flat was a huge hulking shelf, carved into the very tree that serves as the main support for the complex where Lero lives. On it, Lero's most prized ones. Most cherished ones! The Critters they called them. Beloved, struggling creatures that Lero had taken from habitats not quite their own. A mystery they were still working on solving. Each creature had its own dimensional pocket of carefully crafted habitat in which to call home. They felt no concern nor fear for their beloved critters, such was the confidence they had in their magick wards. But still, deadpan eyes carefully scanned the shelves. A quill and parchment magicked out of thin air appeared and Lero began checking over their inventory.

2 Bogbeasts- Check.

3 Bellugias - Check.

21 Cathartic Kooks- Check.

1 Lucifae- Ch... Missing?

Creaaaaaaaaaak... the sound of the only armchair in Lero's flat turned slowly behind them- crying out for some kind of maintenance.

Eyes.

Lero could feel eyes on their back. The witch turned. Unbothered by the idea of an uninvited guest invading their abode. That is until they saw one of their Lucifae. Sat curled up in the lap of... who? Their fists clenched in worry.

Sat, crosslegged upon the plush armchair she sat. A smirk upon her face. “I don't think you are supposed to have this are you?” The woman's huge hand gently stroked the head of Lero's critter. The small creature let out a satisfied sigh as it snuggled itself further into the mystery woman's strong hand. Lero let out a relieved sigh. A Lucifae could sense danger like a beast could prey. They were small reptilian shaped creatures with smooth soft skin lined with very odd short pink coats of fur. Lero had always thought they had the friendliest faces of all creatures. Adorable button eyes and mouths that always looked they were smiling.

Less friendly looking was the prominent figure currently making Lero's ginormous chair look small. Jet black hair fell like an ink spill down around sculpted shoulders while the longest strands were pulled somewhat carelessly into a ribbon. Lero couldn't quite tell why she bothered. The imposing witch sat cross legged while Lero scanned her for something more than the silence that now enveloped the two. All they found was muscle, muscle and more muscle. Then came a hint of recognition. Her clothing.

Black bagged out trousers hung without a care from the woman's legs. The sides were cut out revealing strong thighs and dipped hips. Working their way up, Lero's attention was grabbed by a tightly fitted crop top, that reached and enclosed her neck. It clung to her body revealing her strong abs and bare skin. From the arms, two long pieces of cloth hung, once again highlighting the woman's muscles one of which was prosthetic. A myriad of scars seemed to connect magicked machine to flesh and lead Lero up to the witches face. The scar wrapped its tendrils around the woman's chin and had clawed its way up her cheek. Breath left Lero's lungs when they met the witches amber eyes. Cat like and feline. Untamed and wild. Those eyes almost looked right through them.

Wrath magic. It had to be. Although rare and practically unheard of in this day and age. It was considered archaic, unreliable and dangerous for its user by both the Academy of Etymon and the Researchers of Etymos. The clothing was a give away. Magicked to snap and wrap into place to stop the user's body overheating and preventing... well... something much worse from occurring. Lero's eyes glanced over to the prosthetic arm, was that from Wrath magick gone wild or something else? The scars had made sense now.

Magick flows through all things in the form of Original Magick, but it was from the gods that Gifted Magick hailed and, all too often, one would have no control over which of the gods looked down upon you. Some would bless you with their Magick, multiple gods could even look upon you and bless you. But some gods, like Thost, God of Rage, didn't find the need for her children to have use of other Magicks. This particular witch seemed to have the unfortunate favour from that unwieldy god.

But why was she here?

Lero's head cocked to the side. “Not that I mind... but um.... why are yo-” Before they had the chance to finish their question, the rickety door to the witch's home broke and splintered into tiny pieces.

“HANDS ON YOUR HEAD SCUMBAG!” Lero's hands were grabbed and yanked behind their back. A twinge of pain and a hiss escaped their mouth as they were tackled unceremoniously to the floor. “Well this is new,” the sarcastic comment fell from their mouth when they realised... it wasn't just the Lucifae or even the other critters. Lero had a LOT of illegal contraband in their flat. Then they suddenly began to remember all of the technically not legal activities of theirs. But I'm pretty sure I covered my tracks for the super illegal stuff. A certain smugness came over the researcher.

They aint got nothin' too bad on me.

The Seelie Witches were responsible for maintaining order in the Land of Wistervander, but Lero had no real respect for them. To them, they were just meatheads who enjoyed the power trip they got from parading around with their magicks.

“Um... I haven't done anything...” Lero stated, before whispering under their breath, “that you would know about anyway...”

“Well my colleague seems to think otherwise,” the woman holding Lero's Lucifae now stood looming over them with a somewhat sympathetic look on her face. The traitorous little Lucifae wrapped itself around her neck for further snuggles.

“Hmph and here I thought we were friends...”