Glühwurm

That makes sense. Khione nods as Nella explains the rules. She's glad for it. Then she watches as Nella unwraps the bandages, carefully, ever so carefully, nodding as the words of warning are received, reaches for her ointment and puts it onto the bandage.

You also owe it to the people you love to stay alive, Nella says, and Khione nods again. There is no sense in running into danger headfirst, with or without the light of day; your loved ones will not thank you for it, once you join them in the afterlife.

"They'd probably find a way to sneak in and get me out of there. There's plenty of stories about that." Plenty, Khione says. She only knows two. "But yes, I hear you."

And she also hears what Nella doesn't say. Khione knows how to read between the lines. The last question may have remained unanswered but even a non-answer is an answer if one knows where to poke and prod.

For now, though, poking and prodding doesn't help.

Especially if the person that's being poked and prodded is the one with the healing salves and the knowledge of this strange world she's landed herself in.

So she leaves it be.

"Will you be the one showing me around after this or should I find someone else to do that?"

It is something she has considered many a time, the former princess admits that only to herself. To search for the door to the Underworld, to go look for her father there if she cannot find him in this world. But as all the other realms it seems the world of the Dead is lost to them, too. And Nella does not wish to know what that means for Death itself.

Her gaze darts to Khione's once more as she considers that answer. She is not supposed to talk to strangers. Lancelot will not like it. But this girl does not seem like the kind that stays put for long, peacefully waiting for someone to save her. So will it not be better if Nella is the one to show her around? To keep an eye on this stranger that fell into their world? Into their little piece of safety?

HAILEE STEINFELD in SINNERS (2025) dir. Ryan Coogler

"---thea? i'll have to call you back. please let me know if blaise circles back around. if not, i'll have wade run a search on our end of things." no sooner did she hang up the phone or one of her own appeared, out of thin air, as if summoned.

"hi," floribeth said, voice soft and demeanor softer. "this, um, this is the salvatore school for the young and the gifted." a beat and then: "i didn't pick the name, i promise." a nod of the head followed suit: "and this quaint little town is mystic falls. home to, well, a great many people. including a very sucky football team, and i say that as someone who doesn't know anything about sports."

that's all jed's thing.

god, she misses him.

(and she misses her best friends, loren and mia, too.)

she bit her lip as her brows were raised in confusion. a strange answer for a strange place, she should not have expected anything in else. in the years after the war Celeste had seen many places, met many people, most of them peculiar. but not as peculiar as this.

or maybe that was just the hunger speaking.

"the shool for the young and the gifted?", her tone was almost mocking, "but if you have eternity at your fingertips, you do not need school to learn. there is a grander world out there."

Wilhelm couldn't care less about another monastery burning and its treasures falling into the hands of those who fought for their freedom. But in spite of personal feelings, he had to keep up appearances and so he gestured for his companions to stay behind. Better to handle the matter on his own, without the others overhearing.

While dismounting Cajetan, Wilhelm's eyes examined the scene more closely, discerning the features of the lone figure standing in the smoke. It was a boy, by his estimation barely older than Jonas. The thought immediately softened his heart even further.

"I do not care for the others", his words were a blatant lie but he had gotten used to that already. Riley had left all truth behind. Here in this foreign country, in these foreign battles, all he could wear was a mask. And the sins that would have haunted his past self were now a mere aftertaste of his actions. "And I am not afraid of death in battle. Not if I am fighting for the right thing."

Fear. It lay buried beneath truth, in that graveyard back home.

"Just be careful," Kie says, "don't touch my skin directly; I don't want to---" She clears her throat. "---I take people's body heat when skin to skin contact occurs; it hurts them more often than not. Please, be careful."

Nella. A nod of the head follows. "Nella," she repeats, "that's a pretty name."

I am not sure if you will manage to find your way back, whatever was once beyond those borders is now gone.

"If that---if what you say is true, well, I owe it to the people I love to at least try." And speaking of which: "Have you? Ever been beyond those borders? Just to see what it all looks like?"

Call her curious and curiouser but she's got the feeling there's more out there, beyond the borders of this place.

A small smile creeps over Nella's lips as she finds herself nodding along. "Yes, I am certain. Most certain. We are a place of refuge and we will not turn away someone in need. You are not free to go about the camp unaccompanied - simple measures of safety these days, for spies can wear any mask - but you are more than welcome to stay and rest up."

Carefully Nella unwraps the others bandages and then, as a simple nod to the warning given, reaches for her ointment and puts it onto the bandage, so not to touch the other's skin. A part of her likes this even, the healing, the taking care of. Maybe it is the faint memory of her mother that all these herbs and oils conjure up. Maybe it is the heaviness that has settled into her bones from all the fighting.

"You also owe it to the people you love to stay alive." It is a simple sentence, one that has kept her awake and alive more than once. "There is no sense in running into danger headfirst, with or without the light of day. Your loved ones will not thank you for it, once you join them in the afterlife."

His handshake is careful, but firm. And then he laughs, and she knows exactly what type of person she's dealing with. One of those with an abundance of power and the (not so quiet) confidence to match.

Hard-won, perhaps. Or perhaps not.

"I don't know," Kie says in response, "I don't make it a habit of getting into cloaking spells with strange boys."

"My dad is Dutch," she tells him, watching as he pushes the now empty milkshake glass to the side. It's only fair. A morsel of information for a morsel of information.

"Considering I'm not a magic user, no. You strike me as the type of person to run from one. A free spirit and all that jazz." And speaking of which: "You're not gonna let the superhero thing go, are you?"

He has come to embrace it though, the secrecy, the being different. The thirst for power. "Makes me feel alive, to mess with those things. And cloaking spells are quite easy. I can teach you a good one."

Riley nods at her explanation. He knows of magic in the Netherlands, but they are too close to Hanse territory for him to consider. Messing with the big boys would be a terrible mistake now.

"I am never running from things", he leans back, his ego almost vibrating off of him. "It's things and people that run from me." Again he laughs, clearly joking. Or is he? "And I am far from free. I had a coven once, you know. But these things aren't as easy in Britain as they used to be, say a hundred years ago. They're drawing battle lines everywhere now." His eyes darken at the mention of his former coven, at the memory of what he has lost.

Then Riley shakes his head, both in response to her and to chase away those memories. "Nah, it's too good to let go. I mean, do you have comics of yourself and stuff? The whole secret identity and costume thing?"

She's going to sue Regina Mills when she gets back. She doesn't know how, yet, but she will. However, thoughts of suing and potential revenge need to be put on the backburner. After all, it is much more important for Kie to get home first.

"I like tea, thank you."

Vaguely, she's reminded of Layla, who insists anytime anyone has anything that they ought to drink tea.

"As much as I would want to, and believe me, I do want to, I... I must find a way back home. As you can probably tell I---I am not from around here."

At least, not anymore.

Her gaze is a watchful one, brows slightly furrowed as she listens to the other girl and slowly - gently - lifts the bandages to examine those bruises. "May I?"

Nella may not be convinced of her own skills but if there is one thing she has learned from the story of her parents it is that doing something is always better than doing nothing.

"My name's Nella", she introduces herself with a nod. No reason to throw around her real name or her royal title. No one on the island knows of either and she intends to keep it that way. "No one is from around here", her voice is still gentle, "We all found this island after the ogres attacked. After the curse took most of our lands. I am not sure if you will manage to find your way back, whatever was once beyond those borders is now gone."

And sadness creeps into her eyes. For she, too, is longing for home. Back when she had left Corona she had not imagined that such a moment would ever come. That she would be willing to sacrifice every adventure just for a chance to get back to her parents.

Nor does she want him to. It's kind of refreshing, actually, to run into someone who (probably) hasn't seen everything there is to see about her online.

So she shakes his hand.

He speaks of gifts - which is all well and good - and then shows his and Khione can't help the way the cold seeps into her bones almost immediately. The words 'are you deranged?!' die a slow death inside of her mouth. Instead, brown doe eyes widen. "Stop it!" she hisses. "I don't know where you're from, Milkshake Boy, but here we don't show what we can do with civilians in the room."

A pointed look, as well as a nod to some of the people sitting in other booths.

Gods, he's so lucky that Warren Peace isn't working a shift today. Or her friend, Nancy Lu.

And that is what he came here for, is it not?

Riley cannot help but laugh as she scolds him though. "For someone who apparently spends a lot of her time on ice you seem to have not enough chill. You'd feel better if I threw a cloaking spell around us? No one saw." And even if they did saw, he knew ways to deal with that, too. Better not tell her something so dark and ominous in the first conversation though.

Europe's not a country, he wants to reply but bites his lips instead, pushing the now empty milkshake to the side.

If he truly wants her to answer him, maybe he should stop antagonizing her so much. So the smile on his lips remains as he finds himself nodding. "I was born in England, yes. But I am looking for more than the covens there can give me. That is why I am here now." A beat and then he adds: "You're not in a coven, are you? Superhero that you are?"