Kaelin woke on the ledge where she'd collapsed—body aching, burns wrapped in makeshift bandages, Beckett tucked against her side like a small feathered furnace.
BECKETT: (without opening eyes) If you move, I'll fall.
"I need to move."
BECKETT: Fall then. See if I care.
Kaelin moved. Beckett fell. The resulting crow noises would have been funny if everything didn't hurt.
BECKETT: TRAITOR. BETRAYER. I TRUSTED YOU.
"You're a crow. You don't trust anyone."
BECKETT: I trusted you ENOUGH. Which is more than most. And THIS is how you repay me?
Kaelin stood—carefully, testing weight on bruised legs. The ledge was narrow, but below it, something useful: a slope. Not sheer. Not deadly. A way down.
"Time to climb."
BECKETT: (preening offended feathers) Time to judge your life choices from a safe distance, you mean.
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: Everything hurts.
AZRAEL: Multiple contusions. Second-degree burns on back. Exhaustion level: critical.
IRIS: Physical status: functional but compromised. Recommended: rest, hydration, protein.
MAMMON: We have protein. Dead bird protein. Somewhere down there.
AZRAEL: We need to harvest it. The feathers alone—
MAMMON: I know. I KNOW. But everything still hurts.
IRIS: Pain is temporary. Dead bird is permanent. Move.
The climb down took two hours.
Kaelin picked her way carefully—testing each foothold, using the knives for leverage, Beckett scouting ahead and reporting back with increasingly dramatic commentary.
BECKETT: (from below) MORE ROCKS. SO MANY ROCKS. THIS MOUNTAIN IS MADE OF ROCKS. WHO DESIGNED THIS?
"Mountains are made of rocks. That's their thing."
BECKETT: BAD DESIGN. ZERO STARS.
The bird lay where it had fallen—a crumpled mass of ember-colored feathers, still faintly smoking. Up close, it was even larger than she'd thought. Bigger than her. Bigger than Lycos. Wings that could have wrapped around her twice.
BECKETT: (landing on the carcass) So. How do we do this?
"Carefully. IRIS, guide?"
[INSIDE]
IRIS: Accessing ornithological database. Cross-referencing with elemental creature protocols. Recommended harvest order: feathers (heat-resistant, valuable), claws (potential weapon material), beak (similar properties), heart/core (if present, may contain elemental essence).
MAMMON: Heart core. Elemental essence. Sounds magical. Sounds EXPENSIVE.
AZRAEL: Sounds dangerous.
IRIS: All harvest is dangerous. Proceed with caution.
The harvesting took three hours.
Feathers first—dozens of them, each longer than Kaelin's forearm, glowing faintly even in death. They went into the bracelet, carefully wrapped, IRIS cataloguing each one.
BECKETT: (holding a feather in her beak) This is mine. I found it. It's mine.
"You found it on the dead bird we killed."
BECKETT: And? Finders keepers. Crow law.
Claws next. Four on each foot, curved like scimitars, black at the base fading to red at the tips. Kaelin used one of her knives to cut them free—careful work, slow work, the kind of work that left hands trembling.
BECKETT: (inspecting a claw) These could kill things.
"Probably."
BECKETT: Good. We like killing things that try to kill us. Circle of life. Very poetic.
The beak came last—a massive thing, hooked and sharp, attached to a skull the size of Kaelin's head. It took both knives and all her strength to separate it.
IRIS: Beak core temperature: 47 degrees Celsius. Remains warm despite death. Property noted.
MAMMON: Warm beak. Great. Can we sell it?
AZRAEL: We can trade it. At the Order. If they take us.
MAMMON: quiet If.
And then—the heart.
Kaelin found it almost by accident. She'd cut deeper into the chest, searching for anything useful, and there it was: an organ that shouldn't exist, glowing faintly orange, pulsing with residual heat.
BECKETT: (whispering) That's... that's not normal.
"No. No, it's not."
IRIS: Elemental core detected. Magical signature: fire affinity. Value: significant. Use: unknown.
MAMMON: It's PRETTY. Can we keep it?
AZRAEL: We should keep it. Even if we don't know what it does.
Kaelin reached in—carefully, so carefully—and lifted the core from the bird's chest. It fit in her palm. Warm. Thrumming. Alive in a way that had nothing to do with life.
Into the bracelet it went. Section D, Subsection 7, labeled "UNKNOWN - DO NOT EAT."
MAMMON: Why would we eat it?
AZRAEL: Because you suggested eating the flammable bricks.
MAMMON: Those were DIFFERENT.
By midday, the bird was harvested, the bracelet was 1.2 cubic meters fuller, and Kaelin was ready to move.
The slope below continued—gradual now, almost gentle. And ahead, through the haze, something new.
A path.
Not a goat path. Not a climber's scramble. An actual path—wide enough for carts, graded for travel, winding along the mountain's flank like a ribbon of civilization.
BECKETT: (from above) ...Is that a ROAD?
"It looks like a road."
BECKETT: A real road. With actual flat parts. For walking. Not climbing.
"Yeah."
BECKETT: long pause WHERE WAS THIS ROAD FIFTEEN DAYS AGO?
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: staring
AZRAEL: staring
IRIS: Road identified. Construction quality: professional. Grade: gentle. Destination: appears to lead toward the Order's peak.
MAMMON: So you're telling me—you're TELLING me—that there was a ROAD. The whole time. A ROAD.
IRIS: The road likely approaches the mountain from the eastern side. We approached from the south. Topography suggests the road begins at the mountain's base, approximately 40 kilometers from Thornwell's position.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
AZRAEL: So if we had gone around the mountain instead of over it—
IRIS: Travel time would have been approximately 30-35 days from Thornwell. Longer. But safer. With roads. And no climbing.
MAMMON: silence
AZRAEL: silence
IRIS: silence
Outside, Kaelin sat down heavily on a rock.
BECKETT: (landing beside her) You okay?
"Give me a minute."
BECKETT: For what?
"To decide whether to laugh or cry."
BECKETT: Can I help? I'm good at both. Laughing sounds like this—caw caw caw—and crying sounds like—caw caw caw—actually they're the same. Crows are efficient.
[INSIDE—EXPLOSIVE]
MAMMON: THIRTY-FIVE DAYS. THIRTY-FIVE DAYS OF WALKING INSTEAD OF FIFTEEN DAYS OF DYING.
AZRAEL: We could have just... walked. Around. On a PATH.
MAMMON: WE FOUGHT A FIREBIRD. WE ALMOST DIED FOUR TIMES. WE LOST LYCOS. FOR A ROAD. A ROAD THAT EXISTS.
IRIS: In fairness, we did not know the road existed.
MAMMON: I DON'T CARE ABOUT FAIR. I CARE ABOUT THE FACT THAT WE COULD HAVE BEEN EATING PIE AND STEALING UNDERWEAR WITH BECKETT INSTEAD OF—
AZRAEL: Mammon. Breathe.
MAMMON: I DON'T HAVE LUNGS. I'M A SOUL.
AZRAEL: Metaphorically breathe.
MAMMON: I DON'T WANT TO METAPHORICALLY BREATHE. I WANT TO FIND WHOEVER BUILT THIS ROAD AND ASK THEM WHY THEY DIDN'T PUT UP SIGNS.
IRIS: Signs would require literacy. Which we have. But the mountain does not.
MAMMON: wordless screaming
Kaelin started laughing.
It wasn't pretty laughter—it was hysterical, borderline unhinged, the kind of laughter that lives next door to sobbing. Beckett watched with concern.
BECKETT: You're doing the thing where you laugh and cry at the same time. Humans do that. It's disturbing.
"We—" Kaelin gasped, "—we could have—just—walked—"
BECKETT: Yes. On a road. With probably inns. And food. And no firebirds.
"We climbed a mountain. For nothing."
BECKETT: Not nothing. You have bird parts. Lots of bird parts. Very impressive bird parts.
Kaelin laughed harder. Tears streaming. Stomach aching.
BECKETT: (to herself) I'm traveling with someone who finds tragedy funny. This is fine. This is normal.
They followed the road.
It felt wrong—walking on flat ground after days of climbing. Kaelin kept expecting to stumble, to fall, to fight. But the road just... continued. Smooth and steady and deeply insulting.
By late afternoon, they saw it: the gate.
Massive. Ancient. Stone carved with symbols that flickered in the dying light—swords and flames and something that might have been a rising sun. Two towers flanked it, each fifty meters high, with figures moving on the parapets.
And in front of the gate: a line.
A line of people. Wagons. Merchants. Travelers. Waiting.
BECKETT: ...Is that a queue?
"Looks like it."
BECKETT: For the gate?
"Apparently."
BECKETT: pause They have lines. For entering. Like a market. Or a festival.
"Yeah."
BECKETT: So we didn't just miss a road. We missed a whole SYSTEM. With RULES. And WAITING.
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: quietly I'm going to kill someone.
AZRAEL: You're not going to kill anyone.
MAMMON: I'm going to kill the mountain. I'm going to kill the firebird again. I'm going to kill the person who designed this road and didn't tell us.
IRIS: That person likely does not exist. The road has probably existed for centuries.
MAMMON: THEN I'LL KILL THE CENTURIES.
Kaelin approached the line. The last wagon—a merchant's cart, covered in canvas—sat waiting, the driver lounging on his seat with the patience of someone who'd done this before.
He noticed her. Stared.
She was, after all, a sight: eight years old, twilight-skinned, purple-eyed, covered in bandages and soot and what might have been bird blood. A crow on her shoulder. Two knives on her belt. Looking like she'd fought a war and lost.
MERCHANT: (slowly) ...You okay, kid?
Kaelin opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"Did you—" Her voice cracked. "Did you come from Thornwell?"
MERCHANT: Thornwell? Nah. Came from the eastern trade route. Through the pass. Why?
"The pass. The pass around the mountain?"
MERCHANT: (confused) Yeah? Only way to get wagons through. Takes about thirty days from Thornwell, give or take. Why?
[INSIDE—CATASTROPHIC]
MAMMON: THIRTY DAYS. THIRTY DAYS OF SAFE TRAVEL. ON A ROAD. WITH WAGONS.
AZRAEL: We could have—we could have just—
IRIS: Hired a wagon. Yes. Theoretically.
MAMMON: WE FOUGHT A FIREBIRD. WE LOST LYCOS. WE ALMOST DIED FOURTEEN TIMES. FOR THIRTY DAYS OF WALKING.
AZRAEL: In our defense—
MAMMON: THERE IS NO DEFENSE. THERE IS ONLY PAIN.
IRIS: And the bird parts. We have bird parts.
MAMMON: I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE BIRD PARTS. I CARE ABOUT THE FACT THAT WE ARE THE STUPIDEST BEINGS IN THE UNIVERSE.
AZRAEL: That seems excessive.
MAMMON: WE CLIMBED A MOUNTAIN. WITH OUR HANDS. BECAUSE WE DIDN'T ASK IF THERE WAS A ROAD.
AZRAEL: Who would we ask? The mountain?
MAMMON: YES. THE MOUNTAIN. THE MOUNTAIN SHOULD HAVE HAD A SIGN.
IRIS: Mountains rarely have signs.
MAMMON: THEN THEY SHOULD START. MOUNTAIN CONVENTION. NEW RULE.
Kaelin's face did something complicated.
MERCHANT: (concerned) Kid? You need a healer? The Order's got 'em. That's why I'm here—trading herbs for their forge supplies. You okay?
"We're fine." Kaelin's voice was strangled. "We just... we came over the mountain."
MERCHANT: (blinking) Over? You mean—through the peaks? The goat trails?
"Yes."
MERCHANT: Alone? A kid your age?
"Yes."
MERCHANT: With a crow?
"Yes."
MERCHANT: long pause Why?
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: WHY. HE ASKS WHY.
AZRAEL: A reasonable question.
MAMMON: WE DON'T HAVE A REASON. WE HAVE STUPIDITY. WE HAVE POOR DECISION-MAKING. WE HAVE—
IRIS: Lack of information. The primary cause was lack of information about the existence of a safe route.
MAMMON: I PREFER STUPIDITY. IT HURTS LESS.
BECKETT: (to the merchant) She's special. In the head. We don't ask questions.
MERCHANT: (to Beckett) ...The crow talks.
BECKETT: The crow does many things. Talking is the least impressive. Now—how long is this line?
MERCHANT: (still staring) Usually an hour or two. Depends on how many pilgrims are ahead.
BECKETT: Pilgrims?
MERCHANT: To the Order. People come to train. To be tested. To—" He looked at Kaelin again. "Wait. You're here to join, aren't you? That's why you came over the mountain? Some kind of... trial?"
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: Trial. He said trial.
AZRAEL: We didn't plan a trial.
IRIS: But the Order may interpret our arrival method as one. Coming over the mountain, surviving a firebird—these are the kinds of feats they might respect.
MAMMON: So our stupidity looks like bravery?
IRIS: From a certain perspective.
MAMMON: pause
I'll take it.
Kaelin nodded slowly. "Something like that."
MERCHANT: (respect dawning) Huh. Well. Good luck, kid. You'll probably need it less than most." He gestured at her burns, her bandages, her general state of near-death. "Anyone who makes it over that mountain and still standing? Order will notice."
BECKETT: (smug) They'll notice us. We're noticeabe.
They found a spot near the end of the line and sat.
The sun was setting behind the Order's peak, painting the stone in gold and red. The gate loomed ahead—massive, ancient, waiting. And inside Kaelin's head, three souls were having a very loud argument.
[INSIDE—FULL CHAOS]
MAMMON: I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS. I LITERALLY CANNOT BELIEVE THIS.
AZRAEL: The road does exist. We have accepted this.
MAMMON: ACCEPTED? I HAVEN'T ACCEPTED ANYTHING. I'M IN DENIAL. I'M STAYING IN DENIAL. DENIAL IS WARM AND COMFORTABLE.
IRIS: Denial is statistically ineffective. The road remains.
MAMMON: THEN I HATE THE ROAD. I HATE EVERY STONE ON THE ROAD. I HATE THE PERSON WHO PAVED THE ROAD.
AZRAEL: That person is almost certainly dead.
MAMMON: I HATE THEM POSTHUMOUSLY.
IRIS: Hatred cannot be applied posthumously. The target no longer exists to receive it.
MAMMON: I'LL HATE THEIR DESCENDANTS THEN. GENERATIONAL HATRED. IT'S A THING.
AZRAEL: It's really not.
MAMMON: IT IS NOW. I'M INVENTING IT.
IRIS: For the record: we survived the mountain. We killed an elemental creature. We acquired valuable resources. The difficult path had benefits.
MAMMON: WHAT BENEFITS? WHAT POSSIBLE BENEFITS?
IRIS: Combat experience. Resource acquisition. Bonding opportunities with Beckett. Character development.
MAMMON: I DON'T WANT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. I WANT A ROAD.
AZRAEL: We have a road now.
MAMMON: TOO LATE. THE ROAD IS TOO LATE. THE ROAD IS A TRAITOR.
MAMMON: And another thing—THE FIREBIRD. We killed it. We harvested it. We have its HEART in a bag. And it turns out we could have just WALKED.
AZRAEL: The firebird would still have existed. It might have attacked travelers on the road.
MAMMON: THEN IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SOMEONE ELSE'S PROBLEM.
AZRAEL: That seems selfish.
MAMMON: I'M A DEVIL. SELFISH IS MY BRAND.
IRIS: The firebird's heart may prove valuable. Possibly for trade. Possibly for crafting. Possibly for—
MAMMON: I DON'T CARE. I CARE ABOUT THE FACT THAT WE COULD BE EATING HOT MEALS AT A ROADSIDE INN RIGHT NOW INSTEAD OF SITTING IN A LINE WITH BIRD BLOOD IN OUR HAIR.
AZRAEL: To be fair, we have bird blood in our hair because we killed the bird. If we'd taken the road—
MAMMON: WE WOULDN'T HAVE KILLED THE BIRD. WE'D BE CLEAN. AND FULL. AND NOT MISSING LYCOS.
AZRAEL: quiet The Lycos thing would still have happened. Distance would still have broken the bond.
MAMMON: silence
AZRAEL: That part isn't the mountain's fault. Or the road's. Or the bird's. That part is just... distance.
MAMMON: very quiet I know. I just... I miss him. And I'm tired. And I wanted this to be worth it.
AZRAEL: It will be. It has to be.
Outside, Beckett watched Kaelin's face cycle through expressions—anger, grief, exhaustion, absurdity—and drew her own conclusions.
BECKETT: Youre arguing again, aren't you? The inside ones.
Kaelin nodded.
BECKETT: About the road?
Another nod.
BECKETT: sighing Complaining won't unclimb the mountain. And also that I'm hungry. Priorities.
Kaelin snorted. "I know."
BECKETT: Good. Also —" She paused. "The bird was worth it. The feathers are pretty. The heart glows. And we survived. That's not nothing."
[INSIDE]
IRIS: The bird was worth it. We survived. That is not nothing.
MAMMON: long pause The bird was kind of cool.
AZRAEL: The feathers are valuable.
MAMMON: And we killed it. With our knives. And a brick.
AZRAEL: We worked together.
MAMMON: reluctant That was... satisfying.
IRIS: Satisfaction noted. Combat effectiveness confirmed. Bonding with Beckett deepened.
MAMMON: Don't analyze the bonding.
IRIS: Too late. Analysis complete. Bonding: successful.
Kaelin leaned back against a rock, watching the line inch forward. The gate loomed. The Order waited. And somewhere behind her, a mountain she'd climbed the hard way stood silent and indifferent.
BECKETT: (quiet) You okay?
"Yeah." Kaelin's voice was soft. "I think so. Tired. Sad about Lycos. Annoyed about the road. But... okay."
BECKETT: Good. Because we're almost there. And whatever's behind that gate—" She nodded toward the Order. "—it's waiting for us. The mountain sent us. The bird sent us. The road didn't, but the road can go sit on a cactus."
Kaelin laughed—real this time, warm.
"The road can go sit on a cactus."
BECKETT: Several cacti. A whole field of them.
"The road has disappointed us deeply."
BECKETT: The road is dead to us. We don't speak of the road.
"Agreed."
[INSIDE]
MAMMON: I still hate the road.
AZRAEL: We all hate the road.
IRIS: Road hatred: unanimous.
MAMMON: Good. Now—what's the plan for the gate?
AZRAEL: We walk through. We present ourselves. We hope.
IRIS: Probability of acceptance: unknown. Probability of trying: 100%.
MAMMON: That's... actually kind of comforting.
AZRAEL: The machine is consistent.
IRIS: The machine is always consistent. It's one of my better qualities.
---
The line moved. The sun set. The gate opened and closed, opened and closed, swallowing pilgrims and merchants and seekers one by one.
And at the end of the line, a small purple child with a crow on her shoulder and a hundred cubic meters of supplies and a firebird's heart in her pocket waited her turn.
Behind her: a mountain she'd climbed the hard way.
Ahead: whatever came next.
BECKETT: (soft) We made it.
"Almost."
BECKETT: Almost is close enough. For now.
The gate opened again. The line moved forward.
And Kaelin Twilight-Strider—eight years old, three souls, one crow, and a very justified hatred for mountains—took the next step toward her future.
? Overpowers: Magical Girl Crossover [Grimlight Progression Urban Fantasy/Genre based Power System] ?
by Moawar
He, Life, had a simple job.
His responsibility as an Overpower was to make sure that fiction stories and the characters in them follow their dictated path. He always did his job well enough, not more or less than was needed.
His latest assignment, however, would, in retrospect, prove to be his most challenging one of all.
He would find himself in a unfamiliar world. There he'll have to quickly adapt to guide Nozomi.
The strongest magical girl with the potential to accidentally destroy those she seeks to protect in her fight against evil.
What to Expect:
-If you like the psychological aspects of Madoka Magica and the mixing of different genres a crossover story brings then this story is for you
?? Read Now