Illius and Eric found Kaz in the kitchen, pouring pancake batter into a hot pan.

“I thought you were Hireth,” Eric said.

“I think she’s still in the shower,” the Seratian replied.

“Can I help?” Illius offered.

“Oh, I’m almost done.” Kaz set a stack of pancakes on the side of the stove.

Eric took all this in and then slyly grin, leaning against the countertop, “So… how come you’re making pancakes for my aunt this morning?”

“One, to save the stove,” Kaz said. “Two, because I need her in a good mood this morning.”

“Hm.” Eric started pulling cupboards open.

“What are you looking for?” Kaz asked.

“Plates?”

“All the way to the right.”

Hireth emerged from the bathroom, her wet hair dripping streaks down her loose, blue shirt. “Oh my god, who made pancakes?”

“Me,” Kaz told her.

“I fucking love you. Will you marry me?”

Erik rolled his eyes.

“Eh.” The Seratian flipped the last pancake, “See, I’ve got ideological differences with the concept of marriage.”

“Polyamorous?” Eric asked.

Hireth laughed as she poured juice into a glass and moved to the table.

“No.” Kaz shook his head. “It’s the giving away property I take issue with.”

“Ah… so not polyamorous?”

“I don’t—no.” The Seratian put the pancake platter on the table and then went to hand Hireth a paper. “This is for you.”

Eric snatched it out of his hand and opened it. His eyes instantly lit up. He flipped it around—an advisory with a Still-Image of Hireth—much younger, but it resembled her closely—and it had the Witch of Dotric’s name all over it. “Ah! Aha! I knew it! I fucking knew it!”

“Eric, honey.” Hireth picked up a pancake. “I don’t know why you’re so excited. She doesn’t look a thing like me.”

“What?” He looked positively horrified. “That’s you! That is so you! You can’t—like, this is you!”

Kaz gave Hireth a tired look. “You might as well tell them. I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

The woman smirked, “What’s there to tell?”

“Witch! Confess!” Eric demanded.

“She’s my sister,” Hireth sighed.

“What?” Eric froze. “Really?”

“No.” The witch started laughing.

“I’m taking your pancakes.” Eric reached for her plate.

“No, no, no.” She stopped him. “I’m sorry—I was going to tell you, but I may have had a little bit too much fun watching you try to piece it all together. But, yes, that is me. I’m the Witch of Dotric. Tada.”

“Fucking finally.” Her nephew sat down with a huff.

Hireth started to eat her pancakes, but Eric just stared at her. “What?” she asked.

“What? Like… what the hell? How? And why? And who are you?”

“Ah.” She took her time chewing. “How about we talk about that later? I’ll make it up to you for the past two months of gaslighting—dinner and whatever you want to know.”

“My, someone’s feeling generous,” Kaz commented. “Can I come?”

“Absolutely not.”

Kaz shrugged like he had expected this. They ate in relative quiet, with Hireth glancing between each of the three men.

“You’re very quiet,” Kaz finally told her.

“I’m trying a scientific experiment.” She cut a piece of her pancake and then narrowed in on Eric.

“Which is?”

“Which one of you is going to spill first?”

Illius’ eyes flew to Eric’s in panic. Eric, ever the practiced liar, merely stuffed a giant chunk of food in his mouth and chewed silently. He didn’t want to keep secrets from Hireth, but he also hadn’t talked to Eric at all.

“Except for Illius.” Hireth glanced at him and then back at Eric.

“What?” Eric exclaimed. “How come he gets a free pass?”

“He respects my secrets, unlike another certain someone.”

Illius wilted against the chair in relief.

“I can’t help it if I stumble upon your secrets!” Eric objected.

“Can’t I make an old friend breakfast?” Kaz asked.

Hireth merely observed both of them.

“My secrets are Illius’ secrets,” Eric said, a toothy smirk plastering itself across his face.

The witch rolled her eyes. “Fine then. Kaz?”

The Seratian sighed. “I just wanted to make you breakfast.”

“And I thank you for that. It was lovely.”

Kaz considered. “I figured you’re going to find out anyway and it’s better I just tell you.”

“Probably.”

“They burned Akagnia.”

Illius almost choked on the food in his mouth. What? All those books on dragons, magic, history… all lost in smoke?

“They fucking what?” Hireth’s gaze turned deadly.

Kaz handed a newspaper to Hireth. She opened it, spreading it open on the table. “Witch Burns Lost Akagnian Library,” the headline ran. Illius felt sick.

Hireth scoffed and turned back to her pancakes. “Find me a church.”

“No,” Kaz said. “I knew that’s what you’d say, and I’m going to say no.”

She looked up at him, considering. “It’s cute that you think you could stop me.”

“I know I can’t stop you,” he said, “but I also know that you’ll listen to reason.”

“Alright.” She continued eating her breakfast. “I’ll listen.”

“Okay.” Kaz took a deep breath. “If you go out there and destroy a church, you’ll be playing right into their hands. They want a reaction and an idea of where you are. If you do that, it endangers everyone in Shimol. Also, just consider for a few moments who you are.

“Eric or Illius wants to destroy a building, fine—tragedy of vigilantism or something, but you? You’re the fucking Witch of Dotric. It’s an act of war, and they’re gonna use that as an excuse to escalate tensions with Noviad. Not to mention that destroying a church is only going to turn people against you.”

“I’m not trying to win a fucking popularity contest, Kaz,” she told him.

“No, but perception does matter.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she contradicted. “The average person’s opinion of me in this country means jack shit. Not to mention, I’m a witch. The witch. You can’t tell me that if they caught me here today, they wouldn’t burn Shimol to the ground and somehow use it to escalate a conflict with Noviad.” She pointed her finger at the headline. “I’m already a monster to them, Kaz. It’s what you never understood. I don’t have anything to lose.”

“You don’t have to be the monster they say you are.”

“No.” She shook her head. “But I am the kind of witch who’ll make them think twice before they pull shit like this—and if that makes me a monster, so be it. There are goddamn consequences for burning my library to cover up their own fucking incompetence. Let me guess—they said I burned it to cover my escape?”

“Yes, but it wasn’t your library, Syph! Nobody died. There weren’t any casualties. Yes, it’s less than ideal, but it isn’t worth drawing unwanted attention.”

She tapped the paper again. “There already is unwanted attention!”

“For a library that people were divided about anyway. A library is not a church.”

“No, it’s a well of knowledge, not a palace of indoctrination and a monument to the fucking patriarchy!”

Kaz let out a deep sigh.

“Find me a church,” Hireth told him, “or I’m taking out the first five that I see.”

“And what happens if you’re captured? What happens to Eric and Illius then? Is it worth it?”

“The man makes a fair point.” She turned to them. “What do you say? Is it worth it? I’ll probably need your help.”

Eric considered for a moment. “Yeah. As long as no one dies, they can lose a building.”

“Illius?” Hireth asked him.

He shook his head. Only yesterday, they’d almost killed Eric right in front of him. And he could still hear Hireth’s body slamming into the tree. “I don’t… want anyone hurt.” With terrified eyes, he glanced up at Hireth.

She glanced down, donning a thoughtful expression. “How about we think about it?”

“I’ll take it.” Kaz deflated against his seat.

“Thank you for the breakfast.” Hireth arose and put her plate in the sink. “Training arena still in working order?”

The Seratian nodded. “I do have one request—for everyone’s safety.”

“Which is?” Hireth asked.

“We monitor Illius’ magic levels and make sure they don’t go beyond seven hundred. Even down here, that may draw attention.”

“Fair enough,” the witch agreed.

Illius glanced at her. “What… does that mean?”

“It means we stop by the infirmary before we head to the arenas.” She didn’t seem that bothered. “You all should get ready, because I want to leave soon.”