The dullahan, Alto, clung to Gram’s shoulder as he stepped into the house. What looked like an ordinary suburban home and was used as such, it did hide its share of secrets. Between the kitchen and the living room was the door to the hall, there at the end of it, on the right, was their destination. The door to the basement, down there would be where he could practice any magic to stay in top shape and keep any of his magic artifacts from his days of old. Opening the door and continuing down the stair case, Gram spoke to Alto on his way down. "That steak is sitting right. My skills should be amplified.. A paltry boost in power, but a paltry is enough to make a difference sometimes."

"So let me try to process this, homie. You enchanted a steak just to give yourself an edge in magic practice? Next question, I’ve probably asked this before, but does a guy like you need magic practice? Sir Most Infamous Warlock of His Generation?" Alto said, moving to Gram's back, her long long hair wrapped around him like a backpack. “…Where’s that silencing hex now? You probably want to use it on me right about now.”

"I’ll refrain, only because shutting you up is an uphill battle, akin to Sisyphus. I’ll give you your answer," Gram said, opening the door down to the basement, stepping through. "Even the greatest of wizards must stay practiced and learned. Even the greatest of swordsmen must have sparing sessions. Even the greatest of cooks must brush up on the basics…” He opened the door at the bottom of the stairs, stepping into the basement proper. “…And, to answer your other question, as much as I miss the fine dining of the old days, with their large sums of delectable delights, I have grown accustomed to more common cuisine and have grown to love the taste of a cheap supermarket steak.” Rubbing his chin, Gram said with a completely stoic and unashamed voice, “For instance, the strawberry cheesecake ice cream I had last night, for instance, was good…”

“Damn.” Alto said, nodding, “For the record, I have asked that question before, I just wanted to see if you’d do another one of your speeches. Guess all those heroes who went up against you gave you a knack for talking a lot on the fly.”

“Well, Romero wrote some of those speeches, but not all of them.”

The basement was a small, empty room with stone walls and ceiling. It was no bigger than any of the other rooms upstairs, empty and innocuous. The only thing in it was a pedestal with a book on it and a few folding chairs. Gram sat Alto down on one of them, who coiled her hair below her to make a makeshift pillow. The book had a black cover and gold hued pages. Small cracks ran along the cover, moving towards the center where the symbol of a golden eye was, Gram ran a finger down one of the cracks, until it stopped in the center, pointing directly at the eye.

“Ah… Voidsong.” Gram said, contently. Now, placing his hand on the front cover, a small burst of black magic emitted from it. Whatever spell or ward was placed on it to keep any potential thieves from snatching it was now deactivated; he wasn’t too worried about theft, he had a loyal guard dog, but one could never be too safe now could they? “Did you miss me, baby? Keeping you down here all alone, no one to keep you company? Don’t worry… Daddy will keep you safe and at his side.”

Alto, always one to ruin the mood, was quick to take such an opportunity, “I get it, you want to fuck the book, don’t do it in front of me! Please don’t call yourself Daddy ever again, people might take it the wrong way!”

Choosing to ignore her, Gram took the book and flipped through it. Some pages were expertly detailed with runes and intricate pictures, lines of text written in a language only readable to a select few. Yet, some pages were blank and messy, chaotic scribbles that betrayed the intricacy of the other pages. Such was the signature weapon of Gram Bloodfeast, Voidsong: The Book of 667 Spells.

The fact that it was 1 number too many from a certain number annoyed many people to no end.

While being known as his signature weapon, the book had been handed down from person to person, warlock to warlock, witch to witch. Yet, so few have ever unlocked all its secrets and powers, few have mastered it, and in all the decades it was in his potential, nor had Gram; each messy and scribble page, was representation of what he had yet to learn. As the warlock finished his browsing, he looked over to Alto, still in her chair. With a snap of his fingers, the pedestal that once held Voidsong crumbled into nothingness. “Anyways… Care to do the honors?” He said, as he motioned to the wall at the end of the room.

“Gladly!” Alto proclaimed with a grin. Taking a deep breath, a blue smoke began to flow out of her empty eye socket, under her breath, she seemed to be reciting a sort of mantra. The stream of smoke twisted and turned around the room, dancing on the walls and ceiling, expanding and growing larger. Then, once the whole room was shrouded in smoke, it all disappeared in one final cerulean burst, Alto’s single eye growing wide. With that, the true nature of the room was unveiled as all the smoke cleared away. The small basement was looking far larger than it was before, it had now expanded out into a large stretching hallway, complete with blue fire torches illuminating the walls and ceiling; as a testament to Gram’s ego, some of the lamp’s resembled his skull-like head. Several weapons, trinkets, and baubles lined the walls and shelves, some of them propped up on racks, while others were placed on pedestals and pillows. “Bing bash boom! Let me tell ya, Grammy, I love what you’ve done with the place! Feels like our old home, but smaller and with a suburb above it, and not a giant crater at the top of a mountain. Lemme tell ya, lemme tell ya, I’m so happy you dabbled in Creation Magic!” Her voice sounded like a child visiting an amusement park.

“Child’s play for a man of my caliber. This room will double as a storage and as a place to make sure I am up to par. Without harm to those above.” Gram, with his book in hand, he walked over to one of the weapons on the wall. A giant black axe with a yellow eye on the shoulder of the axe, making it look very similar in design to Voidsong. Amaryllis, the signature melee weapon of Gram. A weapon that has seen countless battles and death. Said to be able to slice through the indestructible scales of the eldest of dragons, as easily as scissors cut paper. Unlike Voidsong, it was a weapon specifically crafted for him. “Ah listen to me, rambling on about caring about civilian lives… I really have changed, haven’t I?” He said with a hearty chuckle.

As Gram contemplated the axe, Alto looked out at the hall. A Back Alley, one of the higher level lessons of those versed in Creation Magic. Commonplace in the world of magic where they came from, they were relatively rare in the human world. With the limited magic presence in the world of humans, magic beings like them had to partition themselves off or work in private. The human world had a habit of rejecting those who were different or unusual. The answer? Small pocket dimensions, sealed off in specific areas, only accessed by those with skills in the realm of magic or inherently magical beings like herself; getting into them was the easy part, actually, finding them was a whole other level of difficulty. Yet, as her eye wandered around the room, she let out a forlorn sigh, her ever present grin suddenly fading away. “Yeah… I remember the weapon’s keep back home. There use to be far more artifacts on these walls, huh? Guess that’ll happen when you’ve been sealed away for 100 years? Everyone and their mothers decides to raid your armory. They even stole my favorite chair.”

Hooking Voidsong to his belt, Gram took Amaryllis off its rack to inspect it; it felt so lightweight in his arms. His voice too, had a small degree of sorrow to it. “It tends to happen when you hoard magical artifacts. When you had the title I held. Yet, I thank Misfit. She did a good job of saving what she could. As long as I have Voidsong and Amaryllis, I will count that as a Pyrrhic Victory. Plus, we came back, did I not?” With a nod, he placed Amaryllis back.

Alto continued to look around the room, looking for what they could practice. Then, her eye spotted a favorite of hers. “Hey, hey! Grammy! Over there.” Alto said, pointing over to another weapon, rather than put up on the wall, it was lying on the ground. It was a long sword, pure as silver, lodged in a heavy, cube shaped rock. Runes lined both the blade and the stone. “I love that one! As your coach, start with that one!”

“The Sword in the Stone? I’ve never been able to remove it, even with magic. The stone seems to be indestructible too… In all likelihood, it’s bound by some pact, even gods are bound by those.” With a strong grip, he held the sword by its handle. Gram, with his impressive strength, brain and brain coming together, lifted the sword and stone with it. One had to wonder how the sword wasn’t snapping from the weight of the heavy stone. “I hope there wasn’t a chosen one who needed this. Because it’s truly mine now.”

With amusement, Alto watched Gram holding his book in one hand and a sword lodged in a stone with the other. “Hey, hey! Remember that time when you used that sword to kill someone? He was like, ‘only the chosen one can wield it’ and you were like ‘I’ll find a way!’ Looks like the egg was on his face… Or in this case, stone.”

“Good times, good times!” Gram said, swinging the Sword in the Stone over his head, slamming the heavy rock against the ground with a burst of blue light. It was more akin to a hammer than a sword. Taking a deep breath, Gram set it down against the wall once more. Cracking his shoulder, the warlock nodded. Cracking his knuckles, he got ready. “Well, I must admit, there is another reason why I do magic practice when I can.”

“Why’s that?” Alto asked.

“Know, that these words hold no shame,” Gram said as he flipped through the pages, using magic to turn them without the use of hands. “But it’s fun…”

“Fun?” Alto said, raising a brow, that same annoying, smug look on her face. “Grammy is having fun with his magic? Using the ‘got to stay practiced’ excuse?”

“Yes.” Gram said, no hesitation. Alto already knew he was about to go into one of his verbose speeches again, so she got comfy. “All men and women have their ways of having fun? Why do men and women play games, when they hold no real purpose in the grand scheme? Because they finds it fun. Only because of my retirement, did I discover this odd word… Fun. Does fun-”

“Alright, alright, I think I get your point.” Alto said with a smile and a sigh, “My favorite TV show is on in about 2 hours, so let’s hurry this along. Go ahead and let’s see what kind of fun you have.”

"Oh don't worry, I oblidge." Gram said, ready to display a small, small fraction of his skills.