Winter Towers, a spanning forest of skyscrapers, city blocks, and honking cars, set just a short drive away from the quiet suburb that was Summertime Hills. This is where Gram now found himself, standing on one of the street corners by himself. The people passing by him, most of them giving him the occasional odd look, some of them stopping to stare, possibly wondering if his skull face was real. Yet, this was the city. For all they knew, he was just a weird, 7 foot tall man, wearing a weird costume; he was dressed in a pink Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts, to not draw too much attention to himself. People in the city sure seemed as friendly as the people in the suburbs.

Which is what Gram thought as a car passed by, the driver shouting, “Nice cosplay, asshole!” Before driving out of sight.

If he didn’t live here and if he didn’t plan to come back, he had half a mind to obliterate the man off the face of the Earth. “Alright, Alto,” Gram said, speaking into his palm. “You sure the Back Alley is here?”

“Oh course, do you doubt me?” A voice rang out in his head. “Just follow my lead, the clairvoyance spell seems to be working fine… Can see right through your eyes. It’s the small flower shop, Woodlands.”

“I don’t doubt you, no.” Gram said, turning around and walking forward, into the building behind him. “As a matter of fact… I can sense it too. A vague ebb and flow of magic in the area. You really are better at sensing these things than me.” Even as far away as she was, Alto really could feel the slightest hints of magic, in this world of limited magic.

Such was the gift of the Fae.

The building was a small flower shop, far away from all the other buildings. While all other buildings were sandwiched together, concrete titans that were packed like a can of sardines, this shop stood out. It was placed in a small field of grass, flowers, and statues, between two buildings; a piece of nature surrounded by toxic industry. Bouquets of all colors, finely crafted vases, flower pots, and the strong smell of chlorophyll. The clerk was a short, bespectled old man at the counter, reading a book that, of course, had a picture of a flower on it. Gram looked around, interested in the various sets of flowers. In particular, a pot of red, stringy looking flowers, in a tall, blue vase. Spider Lilies… The warlock stood there, looking at the flowers, the vague thought of buying them crossing his mind.

“Hey, hey, focus, Grammy!” Alto’s voice shouted in his head. “You can have one of your episodes later.”

“Right,” Gram nodded, approaching the counter, towering over it. The old man had yet to notice him, still reading, until Gram tapped on the glass counter with his finger.

Even as his vision rose up from his book, the small old man wasn’t perturbed at the sight of Gram, only looking up at him with curiosity. “Ah, something you’d like to buy?” Setting his book down, the old man motioned around the room. “I saw you eyeing the Spider Lilies over there, don’t think I didn’t see you. If you are looking to go out on a date, we have roses with thorns removed, pink, white, yellow, and red. We even had a sale on floral wreathes that ended recently, but I can make an exception for celebrities like you… Gram Bloodfeast.”

“So you know me…” Gram said, with as much surprise as ever: None. Even with the weird outfit, not wearing his usual robes, he was still recognizable. The man even got the pronunciation of his last name correct.

The old man stood up, slowly, revealing himself to be far taller than he appeared, standing just a tad bit below the 7 foot tall Gram. “Why wouldn’t I? You were the most recognized name in all of Aesir, all those decades ago… At least when it came to the North.”

“Heh, I was quite popular, wasn’t I? But that’s the past, I’ve been under the radar for a while now.”

“So it seems…” The old man said, “It’s none of my business either way, as long as you don’t bring harm to my plants, I won’t care what you do.”

“Fair enough.” Then, it was on to business, with the formalities of not wanting to kill each other was out of the way, Gram hummed, “So, my friend tells me that there is a back alley here? Hidden in this city, yes?”

The old man narrowed his eyes, then with a sigh, he nodded, “I assumed that is what you were here for.” Turning around, he closed a door behind him, the door merely being the entrance to a small backroom where supplies were held and money was calculated. Placing his hand on the door, several small vines and twigs began to emerge from the man’s hand, twisting and unfurling. “I won’t ask you why you choose to settle down as you did. I too have done something similar… When I came here, I needn’t a giant forest or a verdant field to settle down in. A small flower shop was all I needed. A quiet life… But you’re not here to listen to an old spirit’s rambling.” The door opened, to reveal the area behind had completely changed. A long tunnel, leading out to the beyond. “You are here for Euphoria.” Looking back to Gram, the plant life growing on the old man had extended to his face. “Say hi to the others for me.”

“Thank you… I’ll keep your words in mind, old man.” Gram said, stepping behind the counter and through the door. In a burst of purple flames, his outfit change, switching back to his purple robe and armor. Quietly, the door shut behind him. “…I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting you to be right. Sorry for doubting you, Alto.” Gram said, speaking into his palm once more.

“Told you. That guy, what do you think he is? Dryad? Spriggan?”

“Some sort of nature spirit, yes… Hm… I know not to mess with him.” Gram said as he walked further and further down the hall. If there was one thing that he learned from experience, it was to never ever piss off nature spirits. That ‘don’t bring harm to my plants’ line wasn’t a request, it was a demand. Then, soon, the wall lead out into Gram’s destination.

Hidden from the eyes of normals, a small pocket dimension, only accessible by those with the skills and senses to find the entrances, hidden around the world. While not the largest Back Alley in the realm of Gaia, it was certainly one of the most popular. A large spanning market place, floors built upon floors, like an upside down pyramid of shops, shacks, and laid out mats. The marketplace of magic, Euphoria. A quiet day this time. People could be seen walking about, fantastical creatures peddling their wares, and in the floors below the smell of cooking wafted through to the higher levels of the marketplace.

All the unique sights to be seen. Fairies pawned all sorties of tiny trinkets and enchanted sweets. Certain shady creatures like unsavory Fuath gave their trickster deals in the form of contracts; only an idiot or newbie would be foolish enough to fall for binding contracts with the Fae. Across the market place, plainly visible, was a giant man 30 feet tall from the looks of it, unable to proceed further down due to their size; they hopefully had people to shop for them. Gram was also sure he spotted a Dullahan passing through; this one actually had their body, unlike his companion.

“Nice place we have here. So what are you looking to buy exactly?” Alto’s voice rang in Gram’s head.

“Just checking the place out for now. I didn’t come here with a plan after all, considering I had my doubts there was an entrance here.”

“There are entrances all over the country side! We just so happen to have one right at our doorstep.”

“I can see that. Now then, I’m going silent. Until later, c’est la vie.” Gram said, doing the telepathic equivalent to hanging up on someone, before moving forward into the market. As he stepped down the stairs, headed for the lower levels of the flat cone shaped market place, the carefree and busy tone of the market was soon replaced by distant chatter and quieted voices. Some moved to the flimsy safety of their shops, the fairies hid in the small nooks and crannies, and the stronger folk stood their ground. The current thought in their minds, as they saw the man enter: Gram Bloodfeast had returned to the world of the living. Those old enough to be around for his height in power knew well what he could do. Those too young to remember it were told to fear him.

“…Who let him in? One of the gatekeepers?” A man with an extremely long neck and arms said, holding a vase he had just purchased. Bearing his fangs, he was clearly not in the best of moods at the sight of the warlock.

“More importantly,” A rotund, practically egg shaped woman with him said. Both of them clad in white suits, the woman wearing a powdered wig that sat atop her smooth head. “What’s he doing in Gaia? Aesir not good enough for him.”

The two vampire hissed, huddling close to one another. His lack of anger only made things worse… But, soon, they went back to their shopping.

Gram made a side glance at the two. Vampires. Imperfect ones Hideously ugly compared to their beautiful counterparts. The two vampires gasped as Gram turned to face them. Then, in as kind of a voice as he could muster, he answered their rhetorical questions. “To shop.” Then, headed off, moving further to the center of the area.

Violence wasn’t permitted here. To attack any of the shoppers or merchants would result in aggroing the many nature spirits that watched over the place. The last thing Gram wanted was his retirement being ruined by being turned into a tree or worst, sealed in a stone again. But, there was a bit of bloodsport to be had. The center of the area, a small circular stage of sand, was a place to watch two people fight each other. Hitting each other until one couldn’t take it anymore. As Gram finally made it down to the balcony of the area, he found himself standing next to a small crowd of Fae. Black, long fur, resembling robes, large isosceles triangular noses that took up most of their heads. Brownies. As soon as one of them noticed Gram, the pack dispersed and Gram was left alone.

“Ai…” Gram sighed and shrugged. “Cowardly as ever.”

Hopping over the railing of the area, with no one fighting right now, Gram was making his presence known to all. He had returned and, even though he was causing no trouble, there was nothing just about anyone here could do about it.

Then, as he the warlock stood in the center of the area, he took a deep breath, and cast his hands to the side. In a brilliant explosion of lavender flames, with a pillar of light rising up from him, he shouted to the marketplace. “Your attention, please!” His voice amplified by a small, his fingers to his neck, “I go by many names! The Terror of the North! The Heir of Spiral Grass! The King of Witches! Gram Bloodfeast!”

People watching were on their guard. Some of them whispering to each other if they should do something. Even the owners of the place were ready to intervene if he were to try anything.

“But now, tell everyone you know this, your parents, your children, your friends, and family: Believe the rumors! Gram Bloodfeast, the Greatest Warlock, has retired!” Then, the blue flame around him fizzled out and vanished. His voice still loud and clear, he gave his final message. “…Have a nice day.” Just like that, he made his way to the stairs to the upper areas.

But, as he made his way to the steps, a voice from behind him called. Their voice distorted. “Gram! On your guard!” Turning his shoulder, standing there, across the area, was a soldier clad in white armor, including a white armet helmet concealing their face. A red cape adorning their back. A crest of a hummingbird on their chest. In their hands, the wielded a mace and shield.

“Young knight… If it isn’t you again. Not so young anymore.” Gram said, taking his book out of his coat. “If the people here don’t mind. Then very well. Come at me, young knight.” With a laugh, he added. “If that is really you, then by all means. I have been craving a rematch with you.”

They didn’t have a physical form. Only there in presence. But both the knight and the warlock felt it in their cores.

The owner of the marketplace gave the words “Go ahead.”