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“Out of my way, peons!” an obnoxious-looking person ordered pompously, making her way down the Underwater Highway. She pushed past disgruntled locals and turned at the end of the road to make her way towards Deeper Well, only to stop short when she encountered a picnic blanket. “Oh, hello!” said the girl seated on the blanket, offering a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you! I’m Mari, and who might you be?” “Who…? Well, I never!” the person—who upon closer inspection actually appeared to be made of bread, Mari noted—said, affronted. “To think, there are those in Headspace who can’t recognize my glorious visage on sight! Truly, it must be a dismal life you lead, having never even heard of my majesty.” “Hang on, don’t I know you from somewhere?” Mari asked. She thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “Oh, that’s right! You’re that princess from Pyrefly Forest…Sweetheart, was it?” “Obviously!” her guest replied with a haughty laugh. “You commoners are awfully foolish, aren’t you?

“Merry Christmas, Sunny!” The boy raised an eyebrow as he turned a large, flat disc covered in decorative red paper over in his hands, glancing up at a beaming Aubrey, then back down to the present. He didn’t really get the point of wrapping something if it was still so obvious what it was, but he didn’t mind too much. Tearing the present out of its gift wrap was often a lot more fun than playing with what he actually got, so he made sure to relish the brief moments of ripping seams through the packaging, a small smile crossing his face as he opened his present. His soft, cheerful expression faded a bit once he got the plate out of its colorful wrapping paper, surprised to find that it didn’t have any distinctive design or decoration. He looked back up at his pink-haired friend, not bothering to hide his bewilderment. This was a weird gift…at least, he was pretty sure it was a weird gift. Christmas still managed to surprise him sometimes; for some reason, Hero had been overjoyed when

Mincy sighed, erasing a few lines in her sketchbook as she looked up at the quiet street she was trying to draw, then back down at the poor imitation she’d come up with so far. She knew she was probably worrying too much about the little details, but every tiny flaw in her art seemed so glaringly obvious to her. She really wished she had somebody to support her a bit—it was hard to keep up her motivation when she was so critical of her own work. She jumped as she heard footsteps approaching in the grass behind her, somebody approaching the spot where she was seated on the sidewalk. She looked back hopefully, wondering if it might be somebody who could encourage her a little…but it was just a dog. The frustrated artist managed a wry smile, scratching the pet’s head as she set aside her sketchbook for the moment. “Hector, huh?” she said idly, checking the dog’s collar and glancing up at the house behind him. “You must be the Garcias’ pet.” They were a nice family, Mincy thought.

Boscha was many things—the star captain of Hexside’s grudgby team, the most popular student in school, and admittedly a bit of a bully—but she wasn’t stupid. She knew that her short temper was a problem, which is why she put so much effort into grudgby matches and picking on weaker witches. She didn’t get her social status by annoying people who actually mattered, and she wasn’t about to start now. She did wonder, from time to time, if that’s why Amity’s recent change in personality annoyed her as much as it did. Boscha had lived her whole life knowing that if you want to be popular, you can’t just hang out with nerds and pushovers—which is why she made a point of associating with Amity, one of the most powerful witches in the Boiling Isles and the pride of the prestigious Blight family. She’d thought the abominations student understood those unwritten rules as well as she did…but then the last few months had happened. Some nobody of a human had gotten into Hexside and befriended

The campus of Hexside School of Magic and Demonics was abuzz with activity. It was late autumn, around the time of Thanksgiving in the human realm, and the Boiling Isles were celebrating their equivalent: the Samhain Harvest, a day of feasting and relaxation. There were technically supposed to be classes today, but all the teachers had dismissed early for the holiday, and most of the students had stayed around to enjoy a fair that had been set up in front of the school. Luz, the only human studying at Hexside, stared in wonderment at the various attractions and the students stuffing themselves as she paced from stall to stall. She wondered absentmindedly if witches’ biological differences included a more malleable stomach; many of her peers proudly displayed overstuffed, round bellies, some of which seemed large enough to fit a whole person inside. Surely the squirming she’d seen and the muffled cries she’d heard were just her imagination, though…right? While wandering through the

“Oof, hold on, I gotta…catch my breath…” Avery paused for a moment, looking out over the magnificent vista visible from the top of Hawk Peak. At this time of the night, the whole park was lit up with the afterglow of the sunset and shimmering strands of the northern lights, illuminating the gentle snowfall whirling around the mountaintop. Few of the park’s visitors ever made it here, and none had ever come close to matching Avery’s ability to soar all the way to the peak in a matter of seconds…until now. “Okay!” they said, straightening and smiling at their new friend. “Claire, you got me beat! I think I owe you this…” Avery rummaged around in their pockets for a few moments before pulling out a shiny medal, handing it over to Claire. “Woah!” the other bird said, examining it curiously. “Where’d ya get this?” Avery paused for a moment. “I have my ways! …anyway, next time we race,” they added, eager to change the topic, “I’ll be sure to use what I learned from you!” Claire hummed

Marie coughed as she opened another cardboard box, sending a fine cloud of dust into the musty attic air. Stacks of magazines and books, piles of trinkets, and a loose assortment of odds and ends were scattered around the room, the unpacked remnants of the house she’d recently bought from her grandparents. Most of the stuff was junk that she couldn’t even begin to identify, but there were some adorable antiques to be found among the hoard. ‘Let’s see,’ she mused to herself, waving the dust away and examining the box before her. ‘Looks like more of those magazines, and some, uh...’ she pulled a roundish object covered in dirt and grime from its spot atop the pile, turning it this way and that in hopes of recognising its shape. ‘Nesting dolls? Yeah, I’m gonna go with that.’ She forced a hand underneath the magazines, lifting them out and adding them to a small pyramid of paperbacks behind her. As she turned back to remove the probably-dolls, a glint of gold caught her eye. Shifting the

The campus of Hexside School of Magic and Demonics was abuzz with activity. It was late autumn, around the time of Thanksgiving in the human realm, and the Boiling Isles were celebrating their equivalent: the Samhain Harvest, a day of feasting and relaxation. There were technically supposed to be classes today, but all the teachers had dismissed early for the holiday, and most of the students had stayed around to enjoy a fair that had been set up in front of the school. Luz, the only human studying at Hexside, stared in wonderment at the various attractions and the students stuffing themselves as she paced from stall to stall. She wondered absentmindedly if witches’ biological differences included a more malleable stomach; many of her peers proudly displayed overstuffed, round bellies, some of which seemed large enough to fit a whole person inside. Surely the squirming she’d seen and the muffled cries she’d heard were just her imagination, though…right? While wandering through the