CONTENT WARNING: Discussion of murder, mentions of violence (I know, right? Shocker!) concerns about the health of an unborn child, somewhat graphic discussion of a death, minor sexual references
Gideon
My work as a witchfinder had funded a house in the town of Willow Creek, which sat in a limbo between town and countryside. It was mostly populated by affluent folk, but at least the local kids were okay. It was founded on blood, sure, but no-one's life was as important as Daniel and Josiah's. Sure, maybe they had kids too, but they aren't my kids. My kids come first- always.
I finally have some time to sit down with them and have a hearty soup for dinner. They spend a lot of time playing with the other kids. Sometimes they stay with the neighbours whilst I'm at work.
"Did you kill any witches, Father?"
"Yeah! Did you? Were they scary?"
That got me thinking about dealing with Lord Volpe. The witch I was told to find isn't a witch, so it's likely I won't get the rest of that money at all. Some witchfinders I used to work alongside, they went astray. They wouldn't care to prove anything. The moment someone said they were a witch, they'd kill them without a second thought. Some of them killed them in incredibly-painful or horrific ways- burning or drowning. That's why I use a sword- I do what I can to make it as quick as possible. I don't want to torture witches- I just acknowledge the need to get rid of them, to make a safer world for my children.
"No, Daniel. You know I'm not afraid of any witches. Anyhow, an expert...helped me...work out if the lady was a witch or not. She wasn't a witch. I thought she was doing some sort of ritual, but apparently not."
"Aww...Does that mean you still get money? We can still live here, right? We like it here, don't we, Josiah?"
"Yeah. Everyone here is really nice and we made lots of friends."
"You don't need to worry about any of that- either of you. Whatever happens, I'll make sure you have food to eat and a roof over your head. Okay?"
There's a knock at the door; I think it might be Brádach. I send the kids to their room after they've finished their dinner.
"Afternoon, Gideon. Any luck with the witch?"
"She wasn't a witch. Does mean I get less money, but it is what it is."
"Oh. How did you gather she wasn't a witch?"
"I didn't. I asked a cunningwoman. She made me drink some sort of 'witch bottle', but the woman didn't feel any- What? Why are you laughing? Brádach!"
"My, my, Gideon. I didn't think you'd actually do it! You know the 'witch bottle' is fake, yes? It doesn't work."
...What?
"What do you mean, it doesn't work?!"
"It's completely made-up. It doesn't do anything other than leave a horrible taste in your mouth."
It did- in more ways than one. That bitch tricked me! If I have to find a plus-side to the situation at all, I guess it doesn't rule out that that woman definitely wasn't a witch- which means I haven't completely lost out on the rest of that money. Now I know what that woman looks like, she'll be easier to find this time around. Before I explain to Lord Volpe why I'm late to finding the witch, I ought to pay a little visit to Katlego. I'll allow her a chance to explain herself first- much more than what she deserves.
Áine
Katlego had moved me into the spare room so I had somewhere comfortable to lie for a while. I didn't say anything to her for almost twenty minutes, just staring into space. The duality of strong emotions is making me more nauseous than my newfound pregnancy. I wanted to be a mother, and to know I am having a baby is a joyous moment. When I was a teenager, I vowed that I would be like Saoirse when I became a mother- caring and considerate. To know I will have someone to cherish and love as my mother loved me warms my heart.
The problem was the state of the world I would be bringing a baby into. Most mothers had milestones to reach before they got too excited about their children- it wasn't uncommon for mothers to bury their young children- but I had more to worry about than just their youth. My child could quicken, be born, grow up to be healthy...and then someone would find their secret and kill them anyway. Father's hopes that I would never discover my magic begin to seep in, before I almost immediately perish the thought.
On top of that, it's figuring out when to tell Reynold. Do I tell him right away, or do I wait until the quickening- until it has a sure chance of being brought into the world alive?
"No. I can't."
"Can't what?"
I don't realise I've said it out loud.
"I can't wish for my child to not have magic. None of this is the fault of the children- it's the fault of the world around them. I have to do what I can to make this place safe for my child, Katlego- whatever that may take."
"That's the spirit," she says, with a hand on my shoulder. "If you ever need me to take a look at how you're getting on, then you know where I- did you hear that?"
I did. There's a huge bang at the door, and a mumbled yelling voice. Katlego sighs to herself, and says she'll be back shortly.
Katlego
I can tell that egotistical booming voice from anywhere. It's the witchfinder. "Let me go and deal with him. You wait here."
There he is, looking as pathetic as he did yesterday when he downed a whole flask of urine, hair and nails like it was a fresh cold pint of the special from the Gnome's Arms.
"You lied to me! You told me she wasn't a witch! Do you know much money you've cost me?!"
"What on Earth are you blabbering about? You drank the witch bottle, didn't you?"
"It doesn't work! It's fake! My witchfinding partner explained to me that-"
"Ohh, your witchfinding partner? For someone who claims to be so meticulous, you have some very weak sources for your claims. You drank it, she was fine, she's not a witch. If you were worth your salt as a witchfinder, you'd bring me a real one, hm?"
Out of nowhere, Áine bursts out of the spare room, yelling at the top of her voice when she should be resting!
"Who are you to tell the cunningwoman how to do her job?"
"She's a fake! She swindled me out of my money when I asked her to identify a witch!"
I see he's hit a sore spot immediately. I'll be surprised if he leaves this room without his trousers set alight.
"She correctly deduced that I was pregnant, with medical knowledge alone! She knows what she's doing."
I'm about to tell her that it didn't take any medical knowledge to figure that out and that it only took a little common sense to come to that conclusion, but I decide it's best I keep my lips sealed just this once. I want to see how this plays out.
"You're not going to harm her in front of a pregnant lady, are you? You know better, don't you?"
Lost for words, Gideon grumbles to himself, heading out of the door.
"I know what you are, cunningwoman. You owe me a free witch-reading, and if you try to swindle me or lead me astray again, I'll tell the other witchfinders where they can find you. And they won't be so kind as to slit your throat. They'll burn you at the stake."
"Make sure you bring me a real one this time, then," I reply, winking at him. "I'm very sorry for your bad experience. Have a lovely day, sir."
He slams the door as loud as possible, thinking he's making some kind of an impression.
"You know, I could have handled that myself, but I appreciate what you did."
"I suppose that was the witchfinder you were telling me about? What did you do?"
She's crying with laughter when I explain it to her, but her laughter soon ceases in her throat. She's just found out she's pregnant, and her encounter with a witchfinder has already happened. It must be a horrifying experience. I'm still unsure about children, especially whilst I'm not in my homeland.
"I believe I owe you a clear explanation, Áine. As I mentioned, I'm an arcane merchant by trade. This is my first venture out of my home country, and I cannot get home since my boat was stolen, along with all of my arcane wares, save for half a sack of some crystals. I have some knowledge with herbalism and divination. I've decided I have no problem misleading witchfinders and taking their Simoleons. I don't care to be honest with dishonest people. With everyone else, however, I plan to do everything I can to assist them. I need to make a living so I can eventually get back home."
"I didn't believe you before, if I'm honest- I've heard terrible things about cunningwomen. You don't seem like the others, though. It's good you're here, Katlego," she replies, with a nod. "There aren't a lot of affordable healers around, from what I hear. That said, what is your asking price?"
I decide I won't charge her much. After all, all I did was explain to her what she'd been thinking all along. We agree to ten Simoleons. I decide that, for now, to get my name out there, if people don't have gold I'll take other things as well. Anything I can use, really. If affordable healing is a gap in the market around here, I'll fill that gap nicely.
"You're not from around here either, are you, Áine? You sound different from the others."
"No. I'm a little further out from here."
"I see. And where do you live now?"
She hesitates for a moment. "For now, I live in a witches' refuge in the monastery in Withernham. It's not permanent, but like you, I'm in need of income."
"Can't you live with the father of your child?"
"No. He's soon to become the Abbot of the monastery, so he'll have to move in there. I don't think we can raise a family in a monastery, really. There's not a lot of living space."
A man of faith, hm? Outside, on Beltane night? How scandalous and exciting! Although we've only just met, I realise that I will need to try and trust some people and give them a chance. It's not good me being alone in a land like this, and I won't be able to do all of the work myself once I get the ball rolling with my work. Áine is like me in that she has magic- perhaps I can trust her. If all goes awry, well, I can just make her green and hideous, can't I?
"Why don't you live with me, Áine? You help me with my work and I'll give you a cut of the Simoleons. You can stay in the spare room until you find somewhere more comfortable."
"But we've only just met."
"Indeed- and I know better than to be alone, and I think you do, too. You see, my branch of magic is rather special. In my language, we call it a phrase which roughly translates as 'wrongdoing'. In yours, I think 'mischief' is the best word. It's not so much about growing flowers or doing harm, but it's messing with people enough to slip out of any unfortunate situations. It is not something I can share with outsiders, but I believe we'd be a good team. What sort of magic do you practice?"
"Practical and Wild, mainly."
"Ah, a wild witch! Exciting. So, what do you say? Would you like to stay with me?"
Wonderful. I'll have an assistant who can help grow the herbs and set any potential enemies on fire. Everything may just be falling into place!
"Okay. I'll do that, but I'll need to find a way to pay my way here if that's the case."
"No worry," I reply. "So long as you can help me do my job, I think all will be perfectly fine. It would be a pleasure to have you on board. Sleep on it, maybe, then come back to me if you'd like to stay."
"I appreciate your kindness, Katlego."
"Kat is fine," I reply. When she leaves the door, I ask Nia what she thinks, and get a hoot of approval.
Reynold
It's not like Áine to want to go for a private walk out in the woods this late into the night. She seems agitated. I keep an eye out for potential witchfinders, but no-one seems to be around.
"I'm sorry to have asked you so abruptly to come out with me tonight."
"No need to apologise. It's always a pleasure."
"You see, Reynold, I have a few things I need to tell you..."
She takes a breath, and holds my palm in hers for a moment.
"I went to see a local healer about my recent sickness. As it turns out...I'm pregnant."
My initial reaction is likely not the one Áine wants to see, and the one I'll likely beat myself up for showing at all- but I have my reasons. I'd let my desires get the better of me on Beltane evening, with little foresight. None of this is about the way a child can turn one's life around; I will work as hard as I have to in order to raise a child. It's not that I don't want to be a father. It's that there's a very good reason I shouldn't be one. And if the child...
"I see."
"No, Áine, I- Can we discuss this a moment?"
We sit in the grass, and she refuses to look at me as she speaks. I've never seen her so dejected.
"I feel so much guilt. I should have thought before potentially bringing a witch child into the world."
"Áine, don't blame yourself. It was me who asked you to lay with me that night- and you know I'd do everything I can for our child. At least, I hope you know that."
"I know, and I really wanted to- I don't regret that at all," she replies, "but there's only so much I can do to change the way things are, Reynold. I want to make the world a safer place for my child, and everyone else, but I'm just one woman."
"You underestimate what women are capable of, Áine- especially mothers. My own mother was one of the kindest, strongest women I've ever met."
"So was Saoirse," she replies. She stares into the grass for a while, running her hand gently through. I bring her to her feet.
"Whatever happens, Áine, I'll be there- you know that. No matter how busy things become at the monastery, you know I'll always be there for you and our child. And we'll do everything we can for our child, the same way our parents did for us."
Her smile is only slight, but it's a smile, at least.
"It's not just that- I'll be moving away from the refuge. The local healer is new to the area, and she needs help with her business. I'll be moving in with her. It's not far from here. She lives in a little cottage nearby. After all, once you're an Abbot, it's not like we can raise a child together in the monastery."
I'm glad she said that. It wouldn't be ideal for me to live with anyone else, regardless of how much they mean to me. With the witchfinders about, it's probably good she is on the move.
"We can still keep in touch with letters, of course. And if it ever feels safe to Transportalate, then you can do that if you'd like."
"I don't like using that spell too much. I always worry I'll misremember something about the place, and then end up as some puddle of mismatched limbs inside of a rock or something."
What a lovely image to put in mind before bed. Thankfully, she pulls me into a passionate kiss, and the images in my head become much more pleasant.
I will miss Áine greatly- we all will- but it's not like we won't see each other again, and it's not like she can't look after herself. After all, witches were used to always being on the move. In a way, it's good for us to have some distance between us. What Clem brought up the other day has been on my mind constantly, and I wish it wasn't. My unborn child, the safety of the refuge, becoming leader of the monastery, the approach from the witchfinder...all of the combined fears and pressures meant I risked losing all of my progress. I can't go back- not now, not ever.
[Gideon's letter to Brádach]
Brádach,
I did not do harm to the cunningwoman today. There was a young pregnant lady in her company, so it seemed a bad time. I've told her she owes me a free witch reading, and that if she tries anything funny next time I won't hesitate killing her. Cunningwomen are lucky, anyway. They're the witches who get to live.
Not sure if I should go looking for the woman in the white dress again. She's probably fled far from here now. Might just explain it to Lord Volpe and take the half of the money he's given me. I know I need the money, but I could be crossing countries to find that woman by now. I don't know.
Will catch up soon,
- Gideon
Gideon
Seeing that pregnant lady reminded me of Ruth.
We were not so young and wide-eyed when we had our children. It was me who wanted them more out of the two of us, though Ruth still wanted to be a mother. We knew how risky it was to have children; I should have never wanted them. Every passing day, I blame myself for her death. I remember how she bled out before she could hold her own babies. How little Daniel and Josiah screamed and cried out for a mother they would never know. Her hand growing cold and lifeless in mine as I held her through her agony. I wish the lady I met today all the best.
I never bothered to find anyone else after that- managed to find a wet nurse for the kids for a while, and that was about it. Every night has been the same since. They only got worse as I'd found work as a witch-hunter. Jobs were hard to find, so carving out my own path was the only option. I've heard what they say about witches. If you wrong a witch, she could curse your entire town. She could render all of your crops barren, starving a whole community. She could poison your cattle, or set your house alight. My boys won't grow up in a world like that- but it comes with a cost.
Tonight, I will dream about Ruth. Tonight, I will dream about the witches who pleaded for their lives with the edge of my sword to their throats.
My kids are fast asleep. I should at least try as well.
* * *
Reynold
"She's...what? Why are you telling me- No..."
"You're the father of Áine's child?"
"With your blood?!"
"What was going through your mind when you- No. You know what, never mind- I know exactly what was going your mind! You young folk just can't stop thinking about it, can you? But did you stop to think of the future beforehand? The future your blood will bring to this child? Is that the future you want this child to have, Reynold?!"
I didn't want to tell Mother Joyce, but I felt as if I had to. I knew this would be how she'd react, and in a way, she is right. I needed her to be honest with me, hence why I came straight to the monastery as the sun was coming up.
"You know I will do everything I can for both my partner and my child, Mother Joyce."
"Yes, of course that's what you think now. But how do you know that's what you'll be thinking when- urgh, my. I can't wrap my head around this. I'm going to the Gnome's Arms."
"But you haven't drank in years-"
"Doesn't matter. I've done my best to give you advice, Brother Reynold. In ways, you are like a son to me, but this one is beyond me. I just hope there's a spell for juggling all of the responsibilities you're going to have."
Áine
It's been a month or so since I've been working for Kat, and so far, business seems to be doing well. It's nice to be surrounded by wallpaper, and it's nice to wake up to sunshine. Leaving the refuge was a little emotional, especially when Jeanie and Annabeth came to tears.
I sold what was left of Kat's wares at a market in Withernham, and made a few decent Simoleons from the sales.
Kat has been doing incredibly well as a healer, but she's also made a fair bit of coin from divination. People like her interpretations of the cards. I know little about them myself, but she says people like to have a little direction in their lives, especially amongst all the social turbulence. When it is all falling apart, you can rely on the cards to set you on the right path. She's even had people come to her for her counsel. It still seemed strange that people would speak about their worries and fears; it seems like something best not shared, but people did, and they came out feeling better about it all. Kat seemed to have an answer for everything, and she wasn't pulling it out of her backside, either.
We decide to make the most of the beautiful weather and sit outside in the sunshine. Our idle chitchat about what we enjoy quickly turned into wanting gossip on my partner, which then turned to family.
"Everything I know about herbalism, I learned from my mother and father- though they were also creators. Art, prints, pottery- they could make anything you could dream of. I never did inherit their creativity, however. They also taught me the power we call boferefere... Going back, they are a gift from whatever created us- which is why I cannot share those spells with anyone. You never know who could use your gift against you. Not to mention this place has taught me that the world is much more unwelcome than you'd think it to be."
Kat was right. It was exactly why we never shared our magic with anyone else. People could use it to hurt us. In theory, you could transfer magic to a person's blood, though I didn't know how it worked, or what the success rate of it was- same with taking it out. I know no witch in her right mind would ever do either. If you didn't like your gift, you just hid it- you didn't risk your life having your magic drained from your body.
"May I ask about your family?"
I realise I owe her the truth at this point. If we're going to be 'business partners' for some time, I ought to be honest with her where possible.
"My mother and father were burned at the stake. My father fled when I was only just a woman. He felt guilty at hiding his magic for so long and wanted to help witches. My mother went after him, and I never saw either of them again."
"My goodness. I should never have asked. It must have been incredibly painful to see it happen."
"Oh. I didn't see it happen, but I know that's what happened. There's no other reason they wouldn't have come back."
Kat pauses for a second, looking into the grass. "I like to think there is a glimmer of hope in the unknown, Áine. You don't know for sure. They could always still be out there- looking for you, maybe-"
"No, Kat, please," I say. I feel a familiar heaviness in my chest. "Don't give me false hope. It's taken me this long to accept what happened. Nothing else could have happened."
"No such thing as false hope, Áine," she replies. It almost makes me furious, but I know her intentions are good, so I say nothing more of it. It won't be long until she has another customer, anyway.