Out in the middle east, near the border of the region where the city of Cairo used to lie, two figures stood side by side. Both of them staring up at an ancient altar and the stars that were gathered in the sky above.

Both women had orange-brown hair. Both had large, intelligent, green eyes. While the faces were different there was a clear resemblance in their features. The only real difference was that one wore glasses and was taller than the other.

The two women stood by the altar. The older woman chanted a long drawn out mantra. Her words coming faster and faster as magical energy was gathered in their location. Clouds gathered and one by one the stars winked out.

Soon all that lay overhead was a dark sky. A smooth black sea of perfect darkness. Margaret Cooke continued to chant. Spitting out flecks of foam and blood as her tongue danced around words and intonations the human mouth was never meant to speak.

Margaret continued to chant. Speaking the spell even as her throat filled with blood. Chanting even as her tongue was flayed and gibbets of flesh flew out of her mouth. Chanting as her teeth fell from her mouth dropping onto the ground like a stone. Each tooth hitting the sand and creating a small crater.

She chanted until finally the muscles of her jaw began to rot and the entire lower half of her face fell off.

Then when the woman could chant no more. Her daughter, Margot stepped forward and took over. Handing a top-grade healing potion to her mother as she did so. Then after taking a single long breath the younger woman resumed where her mother left off. Casting a spell that humans were not meant to cast as she drew on powers beyond mortal comprehension.

Margot’s jaw didn’t fall off. That was one of the many boons that came from having strong regenerative abilities. As her teeth fell off, more teeth grew in their place. As her throat and tongue were flayed, new tissue grew to restore them.

Instead, the alien powers and causality damaging magics attacked the young woman’s soul. Two black and red lines of a tar-like substance ran from her eyes as she struggled to retain consciousness.

The tar-black blood poured in earnest as she continued her chant. Margot couldn’t help wondering why she was doing this. She couldn’t help wondering why she was letting herself get torn apart on the inside for these people whose connection to her was tenuous at best.

The spell ate through the young woman’s massive reserve of aether at a pace that made her wonder if her obsessed mother wasn’t a little suicidal thinking that the two of them could muscle their way through the ritual they were undertaking with just themselves and two storage rings full of potions.

Finally, the spell reached its completion. With a great rumble, the night sky shattered like glass, leaving only a vague, colorless, void.

From the void fell a body. The body was dressed in rags and bits of scrap. Its pale flesh covered in scars and strange markings. A man fell out of the sky. A man with long dark hair. His body emaciated and covered with sores, clear signs of a long bout with malnutrition.

The sky reset, its shattered pieces falling in reverse and fusing back into place. The stars returned. The hour passed and the altar sank. Taking the sacrifice of blood, and precious stones, that sat on the bowl at its peak with it. Then all that was left were three figures standing in the sand.

Margaret pushed her daughter aside. Wiping off the blood that coated her freshly regrown lower jaw. She helped her husband to his feet.

The first thing she did after meeting the man she loved most in the world for the first time in nearly two decades was to slap him. The second thing she did was to kiss him. The third thing she did was to hold him and cry. Squeezing him tight and holding him close so she could be sure that this wasn’t yet another cruel dream.

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Vergil Cooke lay in bed, hold his wife in his arms. They were staying at a hotel in Giza. They stayed there for a week. Waiting for Vergil to recover from the several months of physical deprivation that he’d experienced.

It was a miracle that he hadn’t starved during the subjective months and objective years that he’d spent wandering through the unseen corridors.

There was scarcely little food or water in that space that existed outside the worlds and discrete realities. What food, Vergil could find was neither worth eating or worth speaking of. The abundance of spaces where time didn’t flow properly and his body didn’t need things like food, water, or even air was what ultimately saved him.

Margaret had slowly fed the man a mixture of recovery serums to fix the degradation of his musculature and immune system. Nursing her husband back to health with her magic and her medical training.

Now it was the night before they finally left Egypt to return to the states. Vergil looked past the tv and up at the clock and found himself feeling a strange anxiety as he considered all the time he’d lost.

Everything had changed in the time he’d been gone. The little girl he’d known before he left for his “grand adventure” was gone.

The round-cheeked child he’d briefly met, in that strange space that looked strikingly like their little family’s first home, was all grown up. Mysteriously transmuted into a stranger, petite, taciturn, adult. Her emotions were hidden behind a thick pair of glasses and a tightly controlled expression.

His wife was now older. Her red hair mixed with faint streaks of gray. Even he, Vergil was changing, his body aging rapidly as it fell back in sync with the rest of reality.

“Hey, honey?” said Vergil.

“Yes, dear?” said Margaret.

“Did I already tell you how very sorry I am about everything I’ve put you guys through?”

“Yes. Roughly a hundred times today. And maybe I’ll eventually think about forgiving you...Someday.” said Margaret. Her tone making it ambiguous whether or not she was joking.

“Well, I’m sorry ...I'm really sorry. I-, I didn’t mean for things to end up the way they ended up.”

“It’s fine, dear. At least we’re together again.” said Margaret. Giving her husband a soft kiss on the cheek, and a deeper, longer, kiss on the lips.

“....Mhm. You’re right.”

They settled in. They didn’t make love, Vergil wasn’t quite up to that yet, but they did still fool around a bit.

Eventually, when they were done with that, they watched some tv. Margaret turned on the tv and they watched a news report on a coalition of Ifrits and Djinn announcing their support for a political candidate in the local election.

Then they watched a middle eastern version of the popular game show about wannabe singers and performers.

Vergil sat up as his thoughts drifted again. He remembered the look in his daughter's eyes during their last unplanned meeting. He remembered the lack of expression on her face when they’d finished summoning him back into the real world.

“Hon…?” said Vergil.

“Yes, dear?” said Margaret.

“Is...Do you think she’s okay?”

“She? She who?” said Margaret. Her expression sleepy.

“Our daughter. Do you think she’s okay?”

“Huh? Oh, her...Yeah, she’s fine...I think. Probably. Why?”

“I don’t know...She was just...She’s just...I don’t think she’s said much of anything to either of us since I got back. She’s just sort of stayed in her room.”

“Well...She’s an adult now, honey. Maybe she’s got her own things going on? Who knows, maybe she’s even found herself a friend to bring over...a little Mister...or maybe a miss... to kill time with.” said Margaret.

“Hm...Alright. So she ‘is’ okay, though?” said Vergil. Wondering why he felt so out of sorts on the matter.

“Yeah. I mean why are you even worrying?”

“I...I don’t know. Maybe I’m the one who’s not okay and I’m just getting into my own head. You know what? It’s probably nothing.” said Vergil. Shaking his head.

“Mhm...Alright.” said Margaret. Sighing contentedly nestling into the crook of her husband’s arm.

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The week ended and when Vergil was healthy enough to travel the family of three made their way back to the states. They took a supraorbital-jet so they could fly directly from Egypt to the US in the shortest amount of time. The flight only took four hours.

Margot’s seat was separated from her parents’ seat in a whole other aisle. Which again was fine with her. She spent the time either on her phone or looking out of the window as the plane flew above the earth’s atmosphere.

It was odd how strangely numb the inside of her head felt. She was pretty sure that wasn’t normal but she also found that it was much better compared to things she’d expected to feel.

Margot closed her eyes and found that her mind was drifting in one direction while her feelings concerning her parents drifted in another direction. Drifting so far away that they seemed to float all the way out of her head.

Ultimately, she found herself deciding that things were fine the way they were.

She didn’t need to talk to her mother about her feelings concerning her abandonment in the Wallace clan’s hand. Or what it felt like to only ever hear from the woman every five or six years or so.

It was likely nothing would come of explaining all that had happened or nearly happened or trying to explain how it felt to know she fell low in the woman’s list of priorities. Nor did she think she’d get any solace from hexing the neglectful couple as the darker parts of her mind kept suggesting.

Any damage that might or might not have happened was already incurred or avoided. She, Margot, was already legally an adult and for some reason, she felt like it would be strange to ask the other adult woman to pay more attention to her.

Especially since Margot herself was fairly sure that wasn’t something she really needed. or even desired. In fact, She found she no longer wanted anything to do with them anymore.

Some things didn’t need to be talked about. Nor did some wrongs need direct address. Some things could just be left alone. There wasn’t always a big need for an explosive climax.

There were some things one could just allow to fall quietly to the wayside. Breaking apart like a flaking scab. There was some emotional baggage you could just leave on the road behind you rather than carrying it around.

With that decision made, Margot’s mind turned to other things. Things that she’d been letting build in the back of her mind for months now.

Other thoughts that her brain had been dancing around but was suddenly open to touching as she gazed at the moon from a close vantage.

Her mood entered a strange state of calm and her magic reached a new stage of refinement, as her spirit became more settled and at peace.

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“Well, that’s our taxi. Let’s go home, guys.” said Vergil.

By this point, the flight was over. They all stood at the entrance of the airport. A self-driving car was pulling up to the curve.

“Um...Actually, I’m not going.” said Margot.

“Huh? Why not?”

“Or rather, I’m going home but...to ‘my’ home,” said Margot.

“But what about your father’s welcome back dinner?” said Margaret. Poking her head out of the car because she’d already climbed into the back seat and had been in the process of pulling Vergil after her.

“That’s...You guys don’t need me for that. Plus...I kind of had some things going on that I need to see to. Work and stuff...so…”

“Er, I-, I guess that makes sense. You’re sure you can’t just hang in there a little longer?” said Vergil. His brow furrowing. His expression concerned. A part of his mind struck with the vague sense that something was slipping away from him.

“Mhm...Nah, sorry. Er, celebrate a little extra for me? It’s great seeing you again, dad. But I’ve got to go.” said Margot.

“Oh, well...Okay, rabbit. Be safe. I-...I love you, you know.”

“I’ll be fine, dad. No need to start worrying about me now.” said Margot. Nodding and smiling. Just a touch of her bitterness leaking into her words.

She watched the taxi, with her parents in it, drive off. Then she picked up her smartphone to call her own ride. She had better things to be doing than hanging around these strangers, and there was someone else out there in the world that she could consider family.