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Chapter 17 - Jouxyla

I had overestimated how cold it had gotten. The temperature seemed to hover just below the freezing point, and by the time Florence and I had passed Ishpeming, the falling snow had turned to sleet.

“Marianne texted me,” started the other fox, “It seems that the Archlitch, or… whatever it is now; it crawled back through your house, then Marianne’s, and now it’s in Chicago again. She was even able to pull the key out of the door, so it’s trapped there.” It was the first time that either of us had said anything of significance, outside of the occasional “Go” or “Just keep driving.”

“OK,” I enounced, gathering my thoughts, “So… OK, did she say anything else?”

“I’m waiting for a response now.”

“So she didn’t see the Shadow, then?”

“She hasn’t texted back yet.”

“For sure, for sure.” I found myself once again checking the rearview mirror in a thoughtless paranoia, as I did every other minute. “But everyone’s safe?”

“Forseti, she only just now texted me. That’s all I know.” The vixen sighed, “I’ll ask her that first, though.”

“Thank you.”

The empty, slushy road winded onward. We were quickly leaving well-lit civilization. Two lanes going westward merged into one.

“So how long of a drive do we have now? To get to Jouxlya?”

“Six hours. She’s up near the Voyageurs; in Minnesota.”

The fox inhaled in a brief, shallow manner that indicated annoyance. “OK, good to know.”

“I can drive the whole way if you don’t think-”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. If you need to switch, let me know.”

I hesitated to probe further, but decided to make the gamble anyway. “Florence, you’re not fine-”

“OK, well, what I meant to say is that I can drive, if you need me to.”

“For sure. I’m fine for now though.”

“OK.” A brief silence, and then, “Marianne texted me back. She and Palais are safe, in her house. She doesn’t know where Matchstick or The Lady Juxtaposed went. I don’t have their numbers.”

“My phone’s in my pocket- Here.” I fished for the device, unlocked it while keeping an eye on the road, and passed it to Florence. “I’ve got Matchstick’s number.”

“OK. I’ll text him from my phone, though.”

“Yeah, that works for me.”

We kept driving. Sleet continued to fall.

And then, “Matchstick just texted ‘Driving.’”

“Yeah, that’s good to know. Thank you.”

“Do you mind if I use your charger-”

“I’ve got, like, the charger that goes into the cigarette lighter, and a USB-C cord-”

“Yeah, Forseti, I’m looking at it. Can I plug my phone in?”

“For sure, go for it.”

More driving.

“So- OK, do you want to talk about anything right now, or…”

“Not right now, Forseti.”

“I mean, we’re going to be on the road for a while, I feel bad if-”

“You feel bad?” I seemed to have struck a nerve. “Forseti, this isn’t- You feel bad? About what? Keeping that secret about my mother? I honestly do not care about that as much as you think I do-”

“I mean- But you stormed off, and I don’t want-”

“I saw someone die, OK? That’s- That’s why…” Florence began breathing heavily.

“You don’t have to get into it-”

“I’m- You know what, you’re treating me like a child, and-”

“You’re literally having a panic attack, I’m just saying-”

“OK, then I won’t talk about it. Please don’t ask me to talk about it.” A small silence, and then; “My mother wanted to kill me in order to… I guess remain immortal, and now the entity behind that whole situation is hunting for me, and I witnessed the death of a man because of an unrelated entity, which just combined with the Archlitch-”

“I don’t- what are you doing right now?” I couldn’t really parse why the other fox would feel the urge to systematically list her traumas.

“I’m just… I don’t want to seem like I can’t handle it- or, um, I guess process all of it-”

“No one’s expecting you to be able to handle all of this-”

“Would you kindly stop talking like a therapist for one gods-damned second? In what way do you think you’re prepared to offer someone advice in a- in a situation like this? Just let me vent.”

I swallowed hard, the burden of confrontation proving to be more than a convenient amount to swallow. “I just don’t like seeing you having a panic attack.”

“Well, then just stop trying to empathize, just for right now.”

“I’m trying to sympathize-”

“I do not care what word you feel like using. I will calm down if you stop dissecting this, please.”

“OK.” I kept driving.

From the stillness, Florence asked, with a still and focused voice. “Do you remember, back when Trump got elected, and there were those weird clown sightings?”

“Yeah.”

“And do you remember that one story during that time- I believe it was in the news, about these two girls ended up mutilating and almost murdering their close friend, because they were trying to summon… Something, I don’t remember. I think it was a creepypasta- Certainly something not real.”

“That sounds familiar, yeah.”

“Well, Jacksie- The cat, who came up here last week. She and I were very, very… edgy when we were teenagers, and I remember at one point, we were lurking behind the bleachers of a high school football stadium or something; I think we used to sneak cigarillos, cheap Swisher Sweets; we smoked when we were underage. And we were talking about that case- And it’s definitely a tragedy, I don’t like thinking about it now, but at the time, we were… we were very edgy about that sort of thing, and Jacksie asked me if I thought I was able to kill someone if it meant that I could… I don’t know, inherit magical powers or something.”

A brief pause as the fox collected her thoughts. “And I said ‘yes,’ but then I thought about it further. I remember telling her that I couldn’t kill someone I cared for, but I could kill someone if I hated them; a bigoted person, or a Neo-Nazi or something. And obviously, I thought that I could kill someone out of self defense. And Jacksie kept asking me questions like that; could I take someone off of life support, if it was clear they wouldn’t make it much longer. And I said ‘yes.” And then, could I kill Jacksie if it meant that- In her hypothetical, I’d have to kill her in order to save a million other lives, I don’t remember what the situation was exactly. And I hesitated, but then I said ‘yes.’”

I heard her make a trembling, guttural noise, devoid of any language. “I didn’t write it down in my journal- One of the chapters for your book, but I think when Marianne told me about the true nature of my mother, that was the first thing that came to mind. How quickly I told Jacksie that I’d be willing to kill someone-”

“Florence, you’re not like her-”

“You don’t know me well enough to know that for certain, Forseti. We’ve only known each other for- For what? Two weeks? I’ve got that monster’s blood coursing through my veins- Mary Johannson. I… am related to her.”

I fought the urge to say something comforting again. I think Florence noticed my awkward little gulp. I saw the corners of her muzzle start to curl up into a snarl out of the corner of my eye, but she relaxed and carried on after I said nothing. “But at the same time, I saw somebody die for the first time in my life tonight. And I… I couldn’t have killed him, like the Foulgydan did; not even if he asked me to. So… My mother was the only family member that I had, or at least that I’d met. Obviously, now I know why, but it wasn’t as though I knew my father, or any extended grandparents or, um- siblings, or… So I’ve never seen anyone die before- before tonight. And this person died as a direct result of interacting with the secret, magical world that I’ve spent my entire life dreaming about. And this whole time, I wasn’t all too concerned about my own safety, because if I died trying to achieve my one true goal, then I’m- I’d be comfortable with that. But now I see that this is killing other people, and I think it’s my fault- I don’t care if it is, I just feel that, somehow. I’m… I’m so single-minded about these sorts of things, and I… I see now how I’m just like my mother in that way, but now that I’ve seen death, I really, really wish I wasn’t like this- like her, and if I somehow end up out of this situation alive, I don’t think I know what to do with my life after this.”

I finally took Florence’s critique about speaking in a therapeutic manner, and allowed her to take another moment of silence. It wasn’t too long before she made her next statement. “Marriane also told me about the Fungal Entity.”

That took me off-guard. “Oh? What did she say about them?”

“I knew that you bear their curse, but Marianne told me about the fact that you were… I don’t know, you just left your life behind, and stayed with the entity for an entire month, and from what Marianne told me, it sounded like you weren’t necessarily… I don’t know, hypnotized or what have you. You stayed of your own volition.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“And Marianne told me that this entity has also… I guess, killed people too.”

“Yeah, the Fungal Entity used to kill people before I met them.”

“Did you know about that when you went up there?”

At first blush, one might assume that I was embarrassed about the sexual nature of our relationship; how the spore-induced impregnation by the Fungal Entity was a fetish of mine. But I wasn’t ashamed of any of my other fetishes, or any of my other interests, or actions, or proclivities. The real reason why I was ashamed to talk in detail about the Fungal Entity was: “Not at first, but after a few days, I- I was in an occasional stupor due to, like, psilocybin, but I discovered the bones of animals, in their lair; anthro animals, and the Fungal Entity was just- well… honest, like they always are, and they told me that they consumed the bodies of the animals that it lured there before. So yeah, I knew.”

“And you still stayed, of your own free will?”

“Yeah, until Marianne found me.”

Florence inhaled sharply. “Annandax just murdered a man, and I know the odds weren’t in that man’s favor, but Annandax… He almost seemed annoyed, when he did it. Like this man’s life was an inconvenience to him. He didn’t wait for even a minute before setting his body on fire and leaving.”

I didn’t know the dragon too well, but his actions sounded in line with the action’s of someone centuries old. “Yeah, I guess.”

“That’s the actual thing that I’ve been thinking a lot about, Forseti. I’m very, very annoyed that you kept the secret about my mother from me out of- out of, I guess, cowardice, but you’re…” She choked slightly on her words, “I didn’t want to write this down in the journal for your book either, because I didn't want to implicate you if I was wrong, but you realize it, right? Your actions weren’t too different from the rest of this society, when you tolerate murder-”

“I do not tolerate murder!” I couldn’t stop myself from screaming at the fox. A sudden anger boiled over. “With the Fungal Entity… It’s different!” But it wasn’t that different. “I… They don’t think like you or me, they need to consume people, and until I stumbled across them, no one agreed to accept their curse, so- I’m actively preventing more people from dying-”

“You didn’t let me finish my thought.”

“OK, then finish your thought.”

“It seems to me as though you’ve sought out this thing, this entity, and come up with this temporary Band-Aid solution that falls apart once you die, or the Entity changes their mind and kills again.”

“No, though! Because we’ve talked! We talk about this a lot, and they know I know it’s wrong-”

“Then why didn’t you bring that up earlier? I don’t know if I can believe that.”

“Because I hate this! I hate arguing, and I’m bad at it, and I hate seeing friends mad-”

“Well I’m sorry, Forseti, but I hate constantly learning how ruthless this secret magical world is. You made it sound like this socialist utopia, when we first met, and now I feel like a close friend would kill me just to add a couple years to their lifespan, or-”

“Do you actually think I would do that?”

“I didn’t say ‘you’ specifically, just- I don’t know, it seems like most people that I’ve met only see me as a Fangdyne Tystwole, that I’m expendable if it means- If it means that everyone gets to keep their little secret safe, or something.”

I took a deep breath, and meant what I said. “From my point of view, you don’t need to worry about becoming your mother.”

Florence forced a painful-sounding chuckle, “I realized that the more this argument went on, but thank you.”

“Thank you.” I don’t know what I exactly thanked her for.

“I don’t want you to think that I hate you now, because I don’t. And I’m not just saying that because we’re stuck in a car together for the next six hours.”

“Technically, twelve.”

Florence didn’t appreciate that. “Hmmhmm. As I was saying, I am sincerely grateful for how much of your life you’ve set aside just to help me, and you don’t even know me that well. When I saw Annandax murder that man, it made me realize just how good my luck was, that it was your name and address on that note, because I might not be alive if it were someone else’s name. I really do think you’re not the same as someone like Annandax, but it hurt me when I learned that you had- I don’t know, that same impulse that I had when Jacksie asked me if I could kill someone. Because to me, it sounded like you were comfortable with so much death, even if just for a little bit. And it made this secret, magical world; that I’d spent my entire life worshiping… It made it seem like this evil thing that would inevitably turn everyone into the exact person my mother ended up becoming, and that neither I, nor people I cared about, were immune to that.”

I felt a few beads of moisture leak into the fur on my face, and sniffled slightly. “That’s really well put, Florence.”

“Are you crying-”

“Well, you put that really well- I don’t know, I guess I’m glad you don’t hate me-”

“You really worry that much about whether or not I hate you? I’m mad at you, but I don’t think I’d ever despise you forever, Gods- Forseti.”

“I appreciate that a lot.”

“Do try to tell me the truth in the future, even if you think it’ll devastate me.”

“I’ll do that, for sure.” We continued driving. And then, I went on in a slow and unsteady voice. “I guess, in the interest of full backstory disclosure, I never really told you the tale of why I went after the Fungal Entity, did I? I think I get self-conscious about that sort of thing, because it was really, really selfish of me.”

“You’ve got twelve hours to tell it.”

“OK, so- Monologue time. You know me, at this point, I just do little creative projects, and I drop whatever I’m currently working on if something else sounds like it’d be fun. Like, I’m working on a gods-damned book right now, an actual novel. I have never taken a writing class or written anything in my life- Like, I should have gotten good at that Creepy spell forever ago, or- I don’t know. But anyway, when I lived in Chicago, I was the exact same. I was working at Starbucks, auditioning for stand-up comedy gigs, even though I have my BFA in Musical Theater, and then I, just- I got really into mycology. The study of fungus, right in the middle of Chicago, where there are so many forests. And I read about armillaria ostoyae, which is this, like- This supermassive mycelium structure out in Oregon, I think, that’s the largest single living organism in the world, unless you count that aspen colony. Just one big honey mushroom, and I got really weird about it, like- It felt like this magical thing that I wanted to worship, even before I knew about magic. And so you know I have a quote-unquote ‘mushroom fetish,’ but that’s just, um… I like the idea of an organism using me, growing into me, putting its spores into me in- I’m not gonna lie and say it’s not a sexual thing, but it’s also kind of a… Like, I can convince myself to commit to it, if it means I can serve and worship something greater than me, something more powerful than me. I… God, it’s so fucked up, but I crave that. And I didn’t have, like, a family that secretly practiced magic before I was born, but I saw a few ghost sightings when I was young- Theaters everywhere are haunted as fuck, and I think I saw a cryptid when I was in college; the Michigan Dogman, which isn’t just a weird anthro dog, like people say. I’m pretty sure he’s a werewolf. Anyway, I guess these two things combined one day: my sudden interest in mycology, and my belief that magic existed in the world in a secret way. And lo and behold, I read online- No, it was in a book, it was, uh, Weird Michigan, I think, by Linda Godfrey. There was a supermassive mycological structure in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, just not as large as the one in Oregon.”

“So I called in sick for work, I canceled an audition I had, I told my roommates that I was going to go on a sudden and random trip- I did that often, they were used to it… Gods, they were fucking used to it, I hate that. And I drove all the way up to Crystal Falls, where the massive honey mushroom was, just… on a whim, I guess, because I kind of had this association in my head, that this massive fungus was something that also possessed real magic, and if I took the time to… you know, do this; actually investigate it, my curiosity would be rewarded. And maybe this was the Record meddling in my brain. I practiced the Tarot a little when I was a witch; I was also kind of a Wiccan in college. But maybe it was just this random thing. I brought, like, so many camping supplies, and a tent and stuff, and just decided, this one autumn, I’d try and sleep under the stars in the presence of this massive fungus and hopefully… I don’t know, not necessarily become part of it, I didn’t want to be killed or anything, but I wanted it to ask something of me, and I wanted to commit every part of myself to achieving that goal, to prove… my worship.”

“And it wasn’t as if I hated my life. I loved my life, I had a lot of friends. I love my parents a lot. I have a younger brother and sister, and they’re incredible. I wanted to be an actor when I was young, and I went to school for it, and even had a few jobs in Detroit and Chicago before… before all of this, but at the very core of my being, I wanted this. I was happy, and satisfied in life, and it wasn’t as if I were rich or well off or anything, like, I still worried about rent and stuff, but I could not stop this fanatical desire to prove that, well, magic existed.”

“Long story short, the Fungal Entity discovered me, shivering in this cheap-ass mummy-sleeping bag that was not as insulated as it said it was, and, y’know, they do the same spore-type magic that I do, but they can only get you to hallucinate on psilocybin, they can’t hypnotize you; which I guess is what MK Ultra was all about, I think, but still- And I… Y’know, I fell in- Like, I basically fell in love, or worship, immediately. They were real. The entity I had dreamed about was actually real. And I broke down and cried before this guy- They look like a bear- but, like, covered in all types of colorful fungus. I cried and pledged myself to them, and even though I was tripping out a little, I was the first person that ever really, like, pledged to worship them. And this took them by surprise at first, but eventually, they asked me ‘Would you allow me to feed off of your nutrients, and fertilize your body, for the rest of your life? In turn, you will carry my presence, and carry my offspring, and possess my abilities.’ Or something like that, I don’t remember exactly. And I agreed, just, immediately. I think, normally, they have to add on a little caveat where they’re like, ‘If you disagree, then I shall consume you,’ or something. But not for me, because I’m so fucking weird. I’m fucking weird. So, yeah, for the next month, I willingly stayed, and let the entity grow into me, and plant their spores into me, and just spent the entire time tripping out and chatting.”

I had to pause for a moment. “And obviously, my friends were calling me the whole time. My phone died pretty quickly, it’s not like there were any outlets in that realm. My, um- My parents usually text me pretty often, too, and it’s not like I visited them every month, because they were, like, a four-hour drive away, but if you don’t respond to texts for a month, you know, people start to worry. I got fired immediately. I’m blacklisted from Starbucks now for doing a no-call/no-show. And, thankfully, Marianne told me about the Psychic Wardens, but even then, I wasn’t about to be honest about what I did, because at the end of the day, I threw away my perfectly wonderful life because this one little glimpse into a secret world was compelling enough for me to, I guess, destroy friendships and relationships, and I… Like, I still talk to my family, I didn’t fake my own death. I had to tell them that I was having this horrible mental episode, which just felt horrible to have to pretend. A lot of my friends, especially in Chicago, thought I, um, had a manic episode. Obviously, I got Beck into the society, because I couldn’t bear to break that friendship, but there are so many other friends that I just don’t talk to anymore… I really hate myself for going through and committing to that.”

“And yeah, the death thing; the Fungal Entity showed me the bones of their victims, while I was tripping on shrooms, and at first, I was like… ‘Yeah, I can be comfortable with this. I can commit to being comfortable with this, so as not to ruin this relationship.’ It wasn’t even a self-defense thing, I was… I was ghoulishly trying to impress myself by being able to commit to things. But I couldn’t. It made me sad, and the Fungal Entity realized that it made me sad- And remember, the Fungal Entity was never able to convince someone to let them grow inside of them, I was the first actual animal that the entity ever chatted with, conversed with for real. So they care about me, in a strange way, but they didn’t understand how death worked, like we do. Because they’re a fungus, death and food go paw-in-paw, and, like, they don’t view death as an end, they have a crazy reincarnation, cycle-of-energy outlook, so they didn’t think of killing as bad, until they noticed that I was sad about it. And we chatted about it, and very quickly, I was able to convince them not to kill, and they agreed almost immediately. And not just because they could feed off of my nutrients forever, I was OK with that. I actually convinced them that death is traumatic for animals. And since then, they only decompose already-dead things and feed off of me and stuff, they don’t… they didn’t actually ever need to kill anyone before, they lied about that, because… Something about believing that death was a pleasurable experience for animals. So, like- You’re not wrong, about that being a red flag, but I really, really wanted to make sure the death thing came to an end.”

Tears were flowing. “I’m happy now. I’m really, really happy, at the end of the day, because I got to meet a bunch of wonderful people, and obviously, I would have never met my husband if it weren’t for all of this, so, um, I’m extremely happy with the decisions I made in life. Looking back, I can genuinely say that I wouldn’t change anything, but at the end of the day, I also feel really guilty about those decisions at the same time, because this was all very selfish of me. I was curious, and I didn’t care about, like, actively living in the world around me enough to just ignore that curiosity, like everybody else I’d ever met was able to… Is just, like- Everybody is able to live in the real world but me. I’m a selfish asshole that needs something new.” I paused. “I don’t think we all turn out like your mother did. I don’t think you and I are ever going to be comfortable with killing our own- I’m sorry, I won’t get into detail, if it’s traumatic, but the things she did, you and I just won't do. But I think there are little parts of our life where we will go down that avenue, if the consequences don’t seem all that bad at the moment. Because you and I caught a glimpse of something secret, and wonderful, and because of that, we will follow that burning, um… will-o’-the-wisp of curiosity, no matter where it leads us. And it’s selfish, and it’s gotten people hurt, but we can’t change the fact that it’s led us here. So now that we’re here, we can try to do the best we can, if that makes sense.”

Florence reached out towards the steering wheel and held tightly to my paw. “Yeah, I think that makes sense.”

We were somewhere near the city of Ironwood, at the border of Michigan and Wisconsin. I suddenly remembered something. “Hey, Florence, in the interest of not keeping secrets, there’s something I forgot to bring up that’s definitely going to be important.”

I had woken her up from a nap without realizing that she was asleep. “Hmm, oh? Yeah, um-” She smacked her muzzle and wiped her eyes, “What is it?”

“So the Oigd’yiadttigdeit; um, I didn’t summon it, but Jouxlya told me that she’s, uh… been talking with it, because the Oigd’yiadttigdeit can speak with us. Which I know, because one time, I conversed with it.”

Florence swallowed hard but managed to keep her composure brilliantly. “OK, that’s good to know now.”

“Apparently, the Oigd’yiadttigdeit recently learned that it’s killing things, and really, really doesn’t want to do that anymore.” The recurring theme did not escape my notice. “It doesn’t have any control over its abilities. And last that I knew, it asked Jouxlya to figure out a way to kill itself, but she didn’t feel comfortable with that, so for the past couple of years, she’s been trying to figure out a way to permanently nullify its abilities.”

“I am… I was not expecting to suddenly feel so sorry for the, you know- Oiggy.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m… not particularly excited about asking Jouxlya for a way to kill it. Not that I have any clue why it came to Marquette in the first place-”

“Hey, Forseti, it’s not your fault. It’s the Archlitch’s.” Florence paused briefly. “And, well… If it’s anything like what happened to my mother, it’s already dead.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s the real tragedy of it.”

At some point, I’d gotten a more thorough update from Matchstick; the coyote was safe, and was able to check in on the Foxhole once more, confirming that Marianne and Palais were safe as well, keeping stalwart vigilance at their own home after the Archlitch-possessed Oigd’yiadttigdeit crawled through both doors back to Chicago. The Witchmoot was called to close, though no one was kicked out of the bar, and the Hauksborque were doing a diligent sweep of the Upper Peninsula wilderness to make sure that no other natural areas were corrupted by the creature’s presence, setting fire to any trees that found themselves cursed by the Oigd’yiadttigdeit’s presence. The Lady Juxtaposed was still nowhere to be found.

As soon as we crossed the border into Minnesota, I offered to take over for Forseti. At first, the fox seemed adamant about wanting to tackle the entire six-hour drive alone, but it would have been unkind to not allow him a break, considering that we’d have to immediately make the drive all over again. Rain and sleet hounded us the entire drive, and even in the stretches without precipitation, the overcast sky barred the stars from shining down on us. In my numb, weary daze, I felt as though I were in Purgatory, driving for eternity down a highway that led into oblivion. But somewhere within the void sat Jouxlya’s home, and within due time, we had finally come across that point in space.

Nestled in a long-lost corner of the neverending tapestry of lakes and pine trees sat a simple ranch-style house bordered entirely by wilderness, much like the Foxhole. The vinyl siding was devoid of detail, and the painted asphalt tiles of the roof were a dull, dark blue. The same storm system that shifted from snow to rain had already melted the ice in Minnesota. No ice sat atop the pine trees, nor the architecture.

For whatever reason, I half expected to see Marianne open the front door to this modest house. Though the vulpine witch was only a pawful of years older than me, it constantly surprised me how many places Forseti had seen and how many experiences he’d lived through, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were perpetually caught in the Sphynx’s field of gravity whenever the thought of a mentor figure came to mind. I couldn’t quite imagine a world in which Forseti had two Mentors in magic.

Nevertheless, the fox knocked on the door, and we were met with a third fox instead of a cat. Her fur was a deep orange, typical to the vulpes vulpes genus. If the three of us were to stand next to each other in order of age, we’d appear as some sort of gradient, a film exposed to too much light, decaying into only white.

Jouxlya wore a faded, pink sweater, the logo long since destroyed by frequent encounters with a washing machine, and wore plush, white-and-black plaid pajama pants. She wore stylized, tortoiseshell glasses, like one would imagine a librarian wearing. Her headfur had grown long, and was far from brushed. The fox would have been completely devoid of gravitas if she weren’t preceded by her reputation.

“Forseti, you made it.” croaked the older vulpine, stepping aside to let us into her home. Her voice was raspy, and sat in a deep alto.

“Thanks for letting us stop by, Jouxlya.” answered Jouxlya’s Apprentice.

The eldest fox continued as we entered her home, “You’re Florence, then?”

“Yeah, nice to meet you.”

“I’m sorry that you had to meet me.”

Her home was completely bland. The walls were white plaster, with only a few paintings of flowers in frames, seemingly bought from a secondhand store, the sort of simple images you print in order to help sell the frames, to which the fox never bothered to replace. The couch and chairs were a matching, faded blue corduroy, and the floor was covered in a mundane, tan nylon carpeting. An old, massive box TV from the early two-thousands played a local news channel, and a bong and coffee-filled mug sat atop a coffee table that was otherwise empty, save for a remote. There were no doors leading to the hallway, nor the kitchen, and there was nothing else about the home that indicated that it belonged to a banished witch. And despite all of that, despite the fox’s dress, the fox’s general unkemptness, the fox’s underwhelming personality, I still slipped up and said, “I wish we could have met under better circumstances, Marianne.”

“Marianne?” replied Jouxlya in a baffled voice, before she broke into the cackling laughter of a drunk aunt. “Did you just call me Marianne?”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know where that came-”

“Am I really just Marianne Two: Electric Boogaloo? That sucks.” The eldest fox then proceeded to sit on the couch and move the bong off of the table, to precariously sit on the carpeted floor. “I’m not high, by the way.”

I stood there in the middle of the room like a dumbstruck fool, “That’s fine, either way, I wouldn’t mean to impose-”

“Nah, I mean- I don’t know, I live alone. I don’t gotta put stuff like that away usually. Come on in, sit down. Got a pot full of coffee if you want.”

“Actually, I’d love some,” replied Forseti, far too quickly, “want me to get you a mug, Florence?”

I shrugged. “Might as well, if we’re going to be driving again. Please put sugar into it this time.”

“Gotcha.” Forseti was already out of the room. I sat in the armchair, kitty-corner to the other fox.

“Shame you can’t stay too long. Forseti told me you have a- Shit, I don’t remember, not the G’hialgiange, but-”

“Do you mean the Archlitch?”

Jouxlya began to cackle again. “Oh, no honey, don’t worry. I know about the Archlitch. I’m not that scatterbrained. I forgot what the Shadow entity was called.”

“I don’t think I know its name either, it just comes from the Archlitch, I guess.”

“Either way. The Shadow. It walks at, what? Half the speed of a car? Something like that?”

“I suppose I don’t know the exact speed, but I think so? Maybe a third of that speed?”

“Shame you can’t spend the night, then. That seems like too much of a gamble, even if Marquette isn’t that close by.” Her tone shifted into a noticeable somberness as soon as she mentioned the name of the town she was banished from.

“I appreciate the offer, either way.”

Jouxlya looked at me with her head cocked, as though she were perplexed by something, “Damn, this all really sucks, doesn’t it?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You look completely shell-shocked, you’re responding to me like some Victorian ghost- Forgive me for being blunt. It’s never fun to talk with someone who knows way more about you than you do of them.”

Forseti had not told me the full reason for his Mentor’s banishment at that point. I tried to chuckle lightly, to mask the slight tinge of sadness that the older fox’s comment sparked. “I’ve noticed that I have a particular habit of depressing those I meet lately.”

“Ahh, don’t fret, honey. I’ve already depressed myself enough as it is.”

Forseti returned with two paws holding onto two different mugs of coffee. One blue mug seemed to have come from a local job fair, advertising some small-town paper company, and one white mug was written with the phrase “#1 Grandpa.” The fox looked as though he were mere seconds away from dropping both. He placed the two mugs on the coffee table without finding a coaster. A few more coffee rings were added to the hundreds present.

“So it’s come to this.” said Jouxlya as soon as she acknowledged the yellow vulpine.

“I’m really sorry about that, Jouxlya.” replied Forseti with a mournful voice.

“I’ve spent… What? The last two years of my life trying to save the poor creature, and now it’s just given up, right at the drop of a hat.” The oldest fox took a sip from the mug that I assumed Forseti had poured for himself. No one said anything. “Did you know that I was able to figure out a poison for the Oigd’yiadttigdeit within a month of it asking me to?” She pronounced the name without any difficulty. “But I couldn’t fucking figure out a cure for the life of me, and now all that work’s just down the drain. This is why people turn evil, it takes so much effort to not be an asshole.”

Forseti then took a sip from the mug. “If it’s any consolation, the Archlitch fucked things up, not you.”

“Sadly, I don’t feel consoled.” Forsy looked as though he was about to say “Sorry” again, but he stopped himself from doing so. “Forseti, would you mind finishing the poison for me? I don’t have the heart to complete it.”

“Yeah, for sure. Are the instructions-

“There’s a sheet of paper with them along with all of the ingredients, they’re on the main table in my lab out back. None of the ingredients are biological, so it should work. Just don’t get any on your fur or skin.”

“I got you, Jouxlya.”

“Thanks, Forsy.”

The yellow-furred fox took one last, massive sip of coffee, then left the half-empty mug on the table, seemingly assuming that the oldest vulpine would appreciate it. For a while, Jouxlya just stared at the coffee cup. Her eyes were almost glazed over, and not a single emotion, melancholic or otherwise, was betrayed by the way she held her gaze.

Then, finally, after everything that had happened, I couldn’t help it anymore. I broke down and sobbed. The collective pressure of all things within my orbit finally caused me to collapse inwardly. I fell from my chair onto the floor, curled up in a pathetic little ball, and made the ugliest, saddest sounds I’d ever uttered in my life. Snot and saliva soaked the fur of my face as well as the dingy carpeting, yet I couldn’t bring myself to pry my muzzle from the floor. I couldn’t so much as move my arms into position to lift my weight. I simply lied there, sobbing.

I don’t know exactly why it set me off, the fox simply looking at a half-empty mug of coffee. At the time, I didn’t even fully understand the full ramifications of her plight. Of everything she’d done and everything she’d experienced in relation to the Oigd’yiadttigdeit ending up in this sudden, pointless extinguishment of life. And though I could tell that the Oigd’yiadttigdeit was far from the only source of trauma to the fox, I failed to remember that it had taken everything from her. It had killed her wife. And after everything, after setting aside her rage and her anger in the hopes of doing what was moral and what was just, all of that effort was so suddenly sucked into the black hole, all at the split-second whim of the Archlitch. And my mother was dead. My mother planned on killing me. A beaver was shot to death in front of me. The Windenbeste let me live. The Psychic Wardens wanted me dead. Everything spiraling, becoming a singularity, heavy enough to force me to the floor, drenched in tears.

Jouxlya watched me quietly. It didn’t seem as though she was at a loss for words, though. Without even looking at her, I could read from the fox’s aura alone that she knew it would be best to let me cry. She simply watched, hovering over like a guiding star, silently watching those who glimmered underneath the starlight, reminding them that they weren’t alone in the vast void of space.

Minutes passed. My throat began to hurt, and I felt my vocal cords start to give out, but I couldn’t stop from sobbing. Every ounce of strength within my body was entirely depleted. Even the mere act of filling and emptying my lungs felt like vigorous exercise. I didn’t even want for anything. For my mother to return, for this to be a dream, for death. I simply succumbed to pressure, physical and mental, and writhed in agony, without having the energy to so much as want it to go away. Minutes passed. Minutes passed, and then, Jouxlya spoke.

“This sort of thing isn’t uncommon, you know. This feeling of regret, that there’s so much suffering in this little secret world, that it’s not anything like you wished it to be, and now you want to go back.”

I was able to stop myself from wailing outright. My fit of crying had diminished to a much quieter series of sniffling and moaning noises. I wanted to hear every word that the fox had to say, but even after she paused, I couldn’t pull myself away from the entire bulk of misery to really focus on a response. So, she continued.

“I think it’ll get better though, kid. I think it really will. Not just, you know, this small scale situation. But all of the things you’re currently worrying over, the root problems and stuff. The Archlitch doesn’t last forever. Especially now that it’s in this body that's easy enough for us to destroy. All of the old folks that are holding this society back, they won’t last forever. Some of them live a while, but they don’t live forever. And soon, we’ll be able to actually make this society what it’s supposed to be. We’ll be able to manage these magical threats that come into our world, and we’ll learn everything that we can about magic, and I really do think that we’ll be able to share that knowledge with the wider world, really make the world a better place. Forseti said you were studying under Marianne?”

The more that the woman spoke, the less I sobbed like a fox kit without any control over her emotions. And I was almost entirely hypnotized by her words, so by the time she had asked me a question, I failed to register it as such. “You’re friends with Marianne?” she asked more bluntly.

“Oh- sorry, yeah. I’m-” And I almost lied again, but I stopped myself this time. “I’m hoping to study under Marianne as her Apprentice, but she hasn’t agreed to it yet.”

“I’ve met Marianne a few times. She’s pretty cool, in my opinion. She wants to, you know, learn as much as she can, keep animals safe. But she’s also one of the only Foulgydan I know that’s really trying to take this society to a place where we can open up to the world.”

“I respect her for that quite a lot.”

“I remember she was telling me- She was close friends with Chaaya of the Waxing Crescent, actually- I’m assuming I don’t have to explain who that is.”

Marianne never brought that up. “Yeah, she founded the society. Or, um, turned it from this secret, hidden society into the community it is today.”

“Right, yep. Marianne, the lucky bastard, was able to have these long talks with her, when Chaaya was alive. After the Dawn of the Awngaimene was officially completed, Chaaya spent a lot of her time writing. She’d write these encyclopedias, all of the knowledge she collected, or her friends collected. And she told me- Marianne, not Chaaya- That the Ajai Foulgydan was writing this entire, well, constitution, for lack of a better world. This system where no one hoarded knowledge, no one hoarded power, no one would try to live forever or cast the most powerful spell, if it meant that someone else needed to die in the process. Marianne never saw it. Apparently, the manuscript disappeared after the Ajai Foulgydan passed away. Some people get real conspiratorial about this sort of thing, but I’ve had people close to me die before. Sometimes, shit like this just disappears. But it’s such a fantastic idea, and I don’t think Chaaya is the only animal in this world that’s capable of writing something like that, right?”

“No, I don’t think so.” I was spellbound to learn that the Sphynx had actually met the animal who was perhaps the most important to the entirety of the hidden society. And then I once again became crestfallen as I thought about how the cat never thought to tell me that.

“You know how bad shit was before Chaaya came along? I bet you’ve probably read stories.”

I hadn’t read anything specific, but considering the greater world’s proclivities towards witch hunts, religious persuction, and genocide, I had little difficulty imagining the worst. “Yeah, I imagine things were horrible.”

“The worst. Archwitches- You know, when we used that word. Doing the exact thing I was talking about. They’re hoarding power, they’re killing folks to live longer, they’re letting the worst things happen in the Tystwole world without a shred of remorse. Litches were just witches who wanted to live longer with fucked-up magic, did you know that? That’s why Awngaimene spell it with an extra ‘T.’ And all it takes is everyone to sit down, think about each other, and, you know, take the initiative and actually do something to make the world a better place. And if Chaaya didn’t come along, I really do think someone else would have. And I really think that, you know, folks in your generation- Not to make this a conversation about Gen-Z or Baby Boomers or anything- But, you know, the collective group of animals living in the 21st century- I think we’ve really reached a point in time where we’re sick of seeing so much suffering- The majority of us, anyway. We’re sick of seeing people hoard greed, and we’re ready to tell them to shut up. We’re sick of feeling guilty about being lazy, or thinking about what we could have done in regards to, well, being charitable, and we’re ready to actually go out and do the thing. I really- I really do think that this all gets better.”

The way in which Jouxlya spoke had actually inspired me to take on a more optimistic outlook. Her bright words and bright ideals pierced through the inky void surrounding me. In her words, I could see not just the magical society that I had longed for, but a magical society that served the world far better than the absurd power fantasy I had spent my entire life fantasizing about. I finally found myself able to sit up, resting on the side of my hip, folding my legs inward. The orange-furred fox hunched over, propping up her head with her arms in the shape of a triangle. We made eye contact, and I could see the glistening of tears on her face. “Jouxlya, I don’t think you know enough about me. This entire past week, I’ve been horrified about turning into…” My mother. “One of those people that hoards power, or plays by the rules and the status quo of some- of some magical, secret world. I don’t… I don’t think I’m a good person.”

Jouxlya nodded deeply. “Florence, you’re right. I don’t know you perfectly well. But I’m completely sure that you haven’t done a single thing that I’d call evil.”

For some reason, that claim struck up a red-hot burning sensation in my heart that almost caused me to choke. “But you don’t know me, Jouxlya-”

“Alright then, shoot. Tell me what you think you did that’s so bad?”

I swallowed hard and felt myself squirming into the soft folds of the seat behind me. “I watched a Foulgydan shoot a man who was cursed by the Oigd’yiadttigdeit and didn’t do a single thing to stop it.”

Jouxlya’s pupils shrunk ever-so-slightly. That seemed to hit a nerve. “That’s not your fault whatsoever-”

“But that’s only- That’s only one thing.” Even though I had to assume that the two foxes had spoken about it before, I didn’t feel compelled to bring up my suspicions about Forseti and the Fungal Entity. My mind jumped elsewhere first. “I have really close friends that I almost got killed, because I didn’t think things through, and almost exposed them to the Psychic Wardens when they came to check in on me-”

“You have to realize that that’s the exact opposite of hoarding the truth, Florence-”

“I know, I know- But, like- OK, there were these college kids, that got possessed by this entity that was composed entirely out of flies? I never met them, but I thought to myself often, that I should introduce myself, especially if I wasn’t the newest Fangdyne Tystwole anymore. But I never did, and I haven’t seen them since, and I don’t even know if they’re alive-”

“Forseti told me about that situation. With Hg’lichigk Mourqu. They’re fine, don’t worry, they just got rattled and didn’t want to integrate into the society. They opted for the monthly interviews.”

I cocked my head, confused as to why no one ever told me that. Though I’d hardly asked anyone about the college students’ fates myself. “OK, but- For the past few weeks, I’ve been lying and telling everyone that I’m Marianne’s Apprentice, for learning magic, and that’s just… it’s just not true. And I keep waiting for her to change her mind, and I keep asking her about it, but she still hasn’t agreed. And I just keep lying about that- I don’t know why.”

Jouxlya took a long, contemplative sip of coffee from the first available mug as I slowly unraveled, then spoke. “Now you’re just grasping at straws. That’s not remotely an evil thing to do.”

“It’s just that-” A sigh. “Fine. Thank you. I appreciate your counter-arguments-”

“Florence, I’m gonna level with you. You’re letting your own intrusive thoughts define who you are. But no matter what you’ve done, even if you think these little small- not even issues, but even if you think these small things are building bad habits, you are completely capable of being a good person if you try to be a good person, even starting right now.”

“Then what should I do?”

“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? I’m not telling you to become the whistleblower on this whole thing. That would be insane. I-” Jouxlya almost continued, but stopped with her maw agape, deciding to instead choose her words with more forethought. “You do what makes you happy, try not to hurt anyone on the way, try to put good into the world for the sake of doing good, help anyone who has the courage to do something revolutionary, and accept criticism if someone you trust is telling you that you’re not doing good. Maybe even be the revolutionary, if the situation calls for it. But don’t worry about it, don’t try to keep your own personal good person score. Don’t convince yourself that you’re a bad person, if you’re only having intrusive thoughts. That’s the advice I have. And, y’know, like I said. I understand these impulses. The guilt that you’ve discovered this society, and now you’re a part of the machine that hurts people, but you’re not. Not by a mile.”

I reached upwards, towards the fox on the sofa, not with any real action in mind. Jouxlya took my paw and squeezed it hard, as though it were her method of reassuring me. “Thank you, Jouxlya.”

“Thank you for thanking me. It makes me feel smart.”

“I feel as though I’m going to think back on these words often, Jouxlya. I mean it. You and Marianne are the smartest Foulgydan that-”

“Florence, I’m only forty-eight.”

Her comment caught me off guard. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m not a Foulgydan, Florence. Did you think I was as old as Marianne?”

“I didn’t think that being a Foulgydan was an age thing-”

“It’s just another word for ‘Archwitch,’ honey. Being old as balls is part of the description.”

I struggled through my question, still confused. “So- But I thought you’d be a Frote Foulgydan, if you were banished.”

“No,” Jouxlya chuckled a little, “I guess I’m just ‘Frote.’ I don’t think Chaaya came up with a specific name for the banished Awngaimene. Besides, I’m only banished from Marquette. I can go to other places.”

“I don’t think I know a lot about your situation, if I’m being entirely honest.”

“Well, it’s a long story, and I think you’re in too much mortal peril for me to take my time with it. Come back anytime, though, and I’ll be happy to tell it-” Jouxlya’s eyes then lit up. “Oh, Forseti told me that you were interested in magically transitioning, is that true?”

I felt a bit of a blush creep beneath my white fur, “Yeah- Um, yeah, I remember Forseti telling me you knew that sort of magic.”

“Remind me to actually teach that fox how to perform that procedure. God, I’m far too lazy to be a Mentor. But next time you come back, I’ll perform the ritual for you, entirely free of charge. I’d even do it now, but it takes a day to perform, and we don’t have the time. But you’ll have a completely fertile womb, eggs, menstrual cycle- Everything. And the process is pain-free.”

I couldn’t fight the urge to cry a second time, and through my dramatic, tear-drenched vocal inflection, I stammered a half-choked response. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You can say ‘Thank you,’ but you can wait until I actually do-”

“Jouxyla, thank you so much. Thank you- Jouxlya, this is one of the most incredible things anyone has ever offered to do for me.”

“No prob, kid.” Jouxlya’s eyes shone like stars, and her friendly smile was an equally luminescent crescent moon.

And somewhere, on the road back towards Marquette, I asked Forseti to stop at a gas station. I had little faith that I’d find a normal spiral notebook, but I was surprised to be proven wrong. I only needed a little one, I only wanted to write one small part of this chapter.

This is the last piece of text that I will be writing for this book.

I know of Forseti’s ability to access the Record, and I cannot claim to possess the same skill. And yet, I feel as though this story will come to an end as soon as we arrive once more in Marquette. I don’t make this decision out of a fear of my own death, and I don’t make this decision out of a fear that I will never understand the choices that my mother made. I will, indeed, never understand the choices that my mother made, and it is very likely that I will die. But I choose to make this my last piece of writing, simply because I had finally felt that my curiosity had been satiated. That I’d learned everything I could possibly learn from this particular point in my life. Somewhere, as the early morning sun rose over the sea of trees, it clicked within me that I’d finally gotten what I’d wanted most in my life, and that I’d earned it, and that I’d become a better person with it. And if I somehow survived this final confrontation with the Archlitch, I would dedicate my life to doing good and being good.

I am thankful for the animals that have taught me, and I am thankful for the animals that helped protect me from death. And I could not finish this book without extending my most heartfelt thanks towards Forseti Fox, the reason that I didn’t die in Chicago, those weeks ago, and the reason I’m even able to write in the first place. The sun is a star, and its warm light feeds the evergreens. The solar rays shined off of the tips Forseti’s yellow fur as he drove into the sun, seeming almost iridescent. And though he squinted at the sun, I simply stared, beholding its beauty, turning my gaze away well after my retinas began to burn. It was at that moment, the early morning sun, the sea of trees, Forseti’s fur, that I knew I could be good, and I knew that it was Forseti’s goodness that served as the inspiration. A local star in the solar system that I hadn’t thought about in quite some time, with my mind cast amongst the far off constellations.

When we were first driving to Jouxlya’s house, Forseti and I somehow realized that we’d never come up with a name for the book. I have been writing with an astronomy-based motif, and very much wanted to use that, but nothing stuck. Where Stars Lay in Night was too pithy. The Things of the Void was a strong contender, but it sounded too Lovecraftian for my taste. But Forseti had just told me about how he stumbled into this society, and I kept myself alive against the odds that the society put against me, and both of us were driven by one thing. Curiosity. And at the time, we decided to use The Curious Foxes as a placeholder, but at this point, I very much like it as an official title. The story’s about us, and how curiosity led us to these scenes, and how it kept us alive in certain cases, and how I truly believe that it is a trait that has made us better people. Forseti had asked if he wanted to write my name in the title as a co-author, but for some reason, that didn’t feel right to me. This is my story, but I find that I like his prose better, if only for his use of comedy.

(Holy fuck, Florence, you’re going to make me cry.)

The potion was strange, being completely lacking in biological components. Jouxlya’s notes were as haphazard as usual; she was always more apt at the paws-on approach to teaching than relying on text. Some of the ingredients on the list were written as one might expect: “Ammonia,” “Altered Mercury,” “Fdaxcloh’s Irrudiant Dissolvant.” Some notes were less helpful: “The purple one,” “I already mixed these parts, don’t worry about it.” All of the steps requiring boiling, measuring, and magically altering the mixtures were already performed. The only thing left to do was to combine ingredients in an erosion-resistant glass bottle, pop in the cork, and shake it a few times. It didn’t take too long before I was left with a dull, violet liquid that would kill the Archlitch, and undermine a great bulk of the last two year’s of Jouxlya’s work. I half expected the potion to glow, but it simply sat there, not so much as even glimmering in the incandescent light of my mentor’s lab.

The potion had no name, and I wasn’t in the headspace to give it one. The only thing I could think about was how exactly we were going to get the Archlitch to drink such a thing. Even if the possession of the Oigd’yiadttigdeit had brought it to madness, I doubted that the being would still long for death, even if the creature that originally possessed the body wished for it.

Jouxlya kept her lab separate from the house. The walk through the chilly night air stirred up a primal, long-forgotten panic that one gets from treading the woods at night; a panic that I hadn’t truly felt since long before this Archlitch situation. There were no insects or feral frogs to sing a chorus, and no leaves on the trees for which the wind could rustle, if there were any winds in the first place. The air was still, cold, and wet, and since I took my shoes off at Jouxlya’s front door, I could feel an inconvenient amount of mud soaking into the pads of my hindpaws, and the tip of my tail as it dragged.

The two foxes were discussing the nature of Jouxlya’s biological transformation ritual by the time I returned. The older fox took one look at the purple bottle, and I saw the joy in her face drain immediately.

“I guess that’s that, then,” spoke Jouxlya. I could see Florence catch on to the shift of vibe, and shrink back into the space between the couch and the coffee table, sitting on the floor. I felt guilty for making her feel guilty, this was entirely someone else’s fault.

I had to double-check though. “Does this look right, would you say?”

“Yeah, it looks like how I made it before.”

“I’m sorry to ask- Um, how do we use it?”

“Just splash it anywhere on the surface of the Oigd’yiadttigdeit’s body. The potion will work its way inside naturally. It’s only really toxic to the creature, but you saw the ingredient list, Forsy. Don’t go touching it or anything.”

“I’ll be careful… Thanks, Jouxlya. I’m really sorry about all of this.”

I saw, for the briefest moment, the elder fox noiselessly shed a tear. “Thanks for doing the last few steps, Forseti. It may not seem like a lot, but it means a lot to me.” No one really knew what to say for a moment, so the vulpine ex-Apothecary continued. “It feels wrong to send you out on the road again. You said that the Shadow moves at- what, one-third the speed of a car?”

“Probably not even that fast, but I don’t know for certain.”

“You two better get at least a few hours nap then, before you go on the road.”

“I appreciate it, Jouxlya, but we just had coffee-”

“Then I’ll make a potion that knocks you out, just for a few hours. It won’t feel like a full night’s sleep or anything, but it’s better than nothing. Forsy, take the couch, and Florence, you can take my bed.”

I smiled. “In that case, a nap sounds absolutely incredible. Thanks much.”

“I will never know why you’ve never learned that recipe yourself, Forsy. I’ve never seen anyone drink more coffee than you.”

“I am perfectly content with my caffeine addiction. In most cases.”

Jouxlya went to prepare the potion. It took no time at all, and I was out like a light, as the magical brew intended.

We woke up, almost exactly an hour-and-a-half later. I felt as though I’d only gotten five hours of sleep, but considering the alternative, I was not about to look a feral horse in the mouth. There was very little that we had to pack and prepare for the journey, so we were already in the car about five minutes after waking up. The sun would rise at any moment, and streaks of color began to paint a dark sky that was finally cloudless. Jouxlya waved us off, then quietly returned into her home.