CONTENT WARNINGS: mentions of death / murder
[Excerpt from a local newspaper]
WITCHES BEWARE: Tartosan nobleman Eduardo Volpe has reportedly killed over 17 witches in his first week as a new witchfinder. Whilst some concern has arisen over whether or not these people have had a fair 'trial', many say they 'feel safer' knowing someone out there is going to 'take care' of the 'plague' of witchcraft. There has been further concern over witchfinding in general, as their numbers are dwindling. 3 witchfinders in Henford have allegedly been killed by what people believe is a werewolf. The Volpe family are well-known for their wealth, as well as their powerful influence across global trade and their occasional writings about the dangers of the occult. The 150-year-old manual 'Monsters from Across The Globe, And Other Fiends of Magic and Mischief; And How to Protect Oneself from Them' written by Gianni Volpe has surged in popularity.
Many in the county of Henford fear for the future of witchfinding. 'Those who formerly had it in them to be witchfinders have gone soft', says Lord Volpe. 'I feel as if I am the last true man in Henford. Everyone else has either perished or chickened out. I have no fear of monsters. I must take it upon myself to put an end to the scourge of witchcraft in Henford and the rest of the country.'
Katlego
I feel groggy, and my whole body aches all over. I call out lightly for Nia, but can only utter a few slurred words. It seems I am laying on something when, just a moment ago, I was hurrying across fields. The rain began to pick up- does it ever stop raining here?- and now I am here, surrounded by the scent of wet grass and soil and something floral.
There's something on the back of my head. As I come to, it feels like a hand, though I don't know whose. The unintelligible noises slowly form into words. They sound panicky at first, but soon turn into something closer to excitement.
She's breathing.
Breathing? Of course I'm breathing.
There's another hand, soft and warm against my cheek. There's a woman's voice, soft and considerate. "Are you okay?" she asks. "Do not worry. It'll be okay."
Did..did I die? Is this the afterlife? Oh, it must be. I gently open my eyes, and say nothing to her, this beautiful spirit of the otherworld. The warmth of her hand against my cheek spreads throughout my entire body.
"I didn't think it was my time, but at least the women here are easy on the eyes. I didn't think the afterlife would be so-"
"Afterlife? No, you're not dead. We found you unconscious just outside of our camp, so we brought you in. We sensed your gift; we knew you would not harm us."
...Did I just groggily tell this woman she was beautiful? A woman I have never met? The elements may not have killed me, but the mortification eventually will. She helps me up; it takes me some time to get back to my feet. I hear a familiar hooting, and Nia flies around my head, perching on my shoulder and nuzzling me.
"Is that your owl? It flew over to us and showed us where you were. It saved your life. Clever, aren't they?"
"Yes, she is. Nia is very special to me...Thank you for what you did. One moment I was-"
Running from the betrayal of a whole town, with no particular direction, in a land I do not know. The dread set in, and I wanted to cry, but before I could, this woman called the rest of her group to come and see me.
I treasure Nia with all my heart. In all that could, can, and will go wrong, she will always be by my side. I found her starving and thirsty during a summer's night, and shared some of my food with her. When I was to release her back to the wild after she had recovered, she had refused to go, preferring to stay with me. I hope she never leaves my side.
"We're glad you came to. We were worried about you."
Behind me are three more women, all wearing similar huntress-style outfits to the other woman. The one in the middle seems the most confident. I assume she is their leader?
"Do not be alarmed; we are a small group of witches trying to carve out an existence in the woods, and hopefully far from the prying eyes of witchfinders. I am Iris, a sort of 'leader' of the group. To the left of me is Jemima, and to the right is Clara. The woman who helped you earlier is Eleanor."
"We can introduce ourselves, you kn-"
"We found you unconscious near here. Where abouts did you come from?"
The anger crawls its way back in as I speak.
"The short story is...I am an arcane merchant from elsewhere in the world. I took a boat wherever it would take me and it took me here. Before I could sell anything, my boat and most of my goods were stolen. I then took up residence in the old house of a cunningwoman, then I myself became a cunningwoman. I made decent money and had a good customer base, and then somehow that vile rat Samuel Annorin considered me a threat to his business and managed to turn my entire customer base against me. They all thought I made them sick, and so I fled."
"...That was the short story?"
"Be polite, Clara," Iris snaps. "My friend, what he did to you is exactly how these hunts started in these parts. Everything from poor crop yields to the spread of disease was blamed on the witches. I want to say I am sorry for what happened to you, but I know it will not change anything. The only thing that will change all that is going on is direct retaliation."
"I know of Samuel Annorin, the same way most people in Henford do- but I know something about him most people do not. He uses his magic in his potions and cures. He is not a true witch, but there is magic in his blood."
"Magic in his blood? Then what qualm does he have with me?" I feel a scream lingering in my throat, and I do all I can to suppress it. Nia flies over to Iris and the other women to greet them. "What is it with these people? Now the problem isn't even just with 'outsiders'- it's with other people like them!"
Iris takes a breath and crosses her arms. "Money, my friend. It makes everyone think they're in a class all of their own because of it. Doesn't matter how much or how little you have in common."
I wanted to eat him alive, but I am not a woman of violence- it is much more fun to ruin your opponent's lives through mischief. No-one can blame you, but the damage is still done. I do not like to think about revenge, but with Annorin, it feels different. It isn't just a personal disagreement. What this man is doing, and will do, will harm people. For now, however, I am too enraged to care for anyone else. After all, those people chose their side, didn't they?
No, I can't think like this. It's dangerous for me, and it's dangerous for everyone else.
"I don't know how to feel, Iris. I just feel completely betrayed by this place. If I still had my boat, I'd probably just go back home."
She raises her eyebrows in sympathy, and puts a hand on my shoulder. "What's your name, my friend?"
"Katlego. Katlego Anansi."
"And what sort of magic do you practice?"
"It would best translate as 'mischief' in this language. It is not something I can teach for various reasons, but it is something that I can use to help protect myself and others. Nia is also helpful for keeping an eye out for potential threats, and heckling witchfinders for long enough to create a distraction."
"That's good to know. I myself am mostly a practical and wild witch. I was not born here either, Katlego, and I too struggled to find my way, especially as a witch. In the end, I had to carve out my own existence elsewhere- and even out of the way of the people that wanted me dead, they still considered me a threat. Thanks to myself and the others, this place is fairly safe. Most places are no-go zones for witches, but Glimmerbrook is a no-go zone for witchfinders."
"Glimmerbrook?" How far did I go?
"Don't worry, it's just next to Henford. It was once a place where witches thrived before witchfinders destroyed most of it. We hope to reclaim it in some way. I understand that this country does not currently feel like home, but we'd like to at least help you feel a little more comfortable. Why don't you join us?"
I didn't know what to say. I could sense their magic within them, but knowing what Annorin did despite his magic...now I couldn't even trust people who shared my gift. What if they were no different? With anyone else, they had no gift that could top mine. All sorceresses had an animal they could turn into, and mine was thankfully an intimidating predator. But what about these women? What if they were stronger than me? I don't know how to cast fire spells or ice spells or anything like that.
Once again, it would be me taking a chance. It would likely be safer in a group than anywhere else at present. Besides, Glimmerbrook was outside of Henford, and if it's really the no-go zone Iris says it is, perhaps we'll be left alone.
"For now, I appreciate the offer. I'm happy to stay with you for as long as I can."
Iris nods, and says to me that she has one of their outfits ready for me. Supposedly, they all dressed like ancient huntresses as an intimidation tactic, and a warning to witchfinders that they were not to be messed with. That the witchfinders were no longer the hunters when these women were around- they would become the hunted. At this point, I realised I would likely have to break my relationship with peace if I am to survive here. Does self-defence really make me as bad as the perpetrator? I don't know. My mother and father always told me to never lay a finger on another living person, but that was when I was just a little child. The world is different now.
Eleanor seems kind. She introduces me properly to everyone, and once the rain stops and the evening settles in, we gather around the fire telling stories to one another. For now, I felt at peace. How long it would last, I don't know.
Where I am from, your name intends to set the path ahead of you. My parents named me because of its meaning of success, ambition, and power. Ever since I was young, I wanted to make a big name for myself, and I was always selling little things wherever I went, sometimes crafts my parents made. Sometimes we made street food for the rest of the local village. Now, I am starting to wonder if my definition of success is too narrow. If I can at least carve out some sort of life here until I can return home, would that count? Back home, success, ambition and power seemed a great thing, yet this land has managed to corrupt something I once thought to be wonderful.
As we speak, I cannot help but think...what if it really was me? What if I got rusty with my knowledge? No, I can't have done. I keep telling myself it was likely an outbreak, but something in the back of my mind tells me that a rich man like Annorin would never get his own hands so dirty. He had help in this...but from who?
Reynold
No matter how much faith drills the acceptance of death into you, it is never so easy when you know it is just around the corner. Mother Joyce was almost like an adoptive parent to me. She took me in, and in a way, she saved my life.
I hoped to be alone for a while before Mother Joyce made her speech to get my head straight, but
Susana has followed me out here to the park. I've gotten somewhat used to her following me around. She doesn't seem her usual
chirpy self. That makes two of us.
"Is something troubling you, Susana?"
"I could ask you the same, Reynold, but...yes, there is. I need to tell you something that I should have admitted to you long ago."
Admission. First Gideon, now Susana. Everyone else makes it look so easy.
"The reason you saw me at the Fire Festival all that time ago, I wasn't there for the reason I said. I had overheard Áine discussing it with the other witches, and so I followed you there. I never have told you this, but for a while since we have known each other, I felt for you. I didn't go anywhere with it because I didn't think an eventual priest would have any interest in a partner, and I didn't want to distract you from whatever future you planned out for yourself.
I followed you there because I wanted to see that Áine would treat you the way you deserve to be treated, and I'm thankful to her that she did. I'm sorry, Reynold. I shouldn't have done such a thing, but-"
"No need to apologise, Susana," I reply. "You were just looking out for me."
I didn't know what to say about the rest. I didn't even think to myself that Susana would have felt that way, and I didn't know what to say to comfort her or acknowledge her kindness in a way that wasn't mocking or leading her on in some way. The two of us head back towards the monastery.
"I didn't come out just to tell you that, though. I know you haven't been yourself lately, and I know what you men are like. Won't say a word about any of it."
I sigh to myself. "Just concerned about the road ahead, I suppose. I don't know how I'm going to cope without Mother Joyce around...Susana, there is something I must tell you also. But you must promise me to not tell another soul- not even anyone else in the monastery."
A sickening bout of anxiety whirls in my stomach. What I'm about to tell her could completely change her perception of me, and Susana and I are arguably the closest out of all of the main churchgoers.
"I'm a w-"
It's as if I'm about to be sick. My throat feels dry, and I can't breathe for a moment. I try to force myself to tell her, over and over.
"A what?"
I can't even look at her.
"A witch, Susana."
Her eyes widen, and she stops moving. "What, seriously? Like...magic and stuff?" she asks, her voice trailing into a whisper towards the end.
"Yes, exactly that."
She looks solemnly down at the ground as she walks, and the anxious sensation begins to subside, replaced with something worse.
"I'm glad you were comfortable enough to tell me, but I don't want you getting killed, Reynold. We need you. The monastery needs you."
"Only you and one or two other people know, Susana. Don't worry about it. I just felt like someone else had to know, that was all."
Her frown turns into something of a half-smile. "I'm glad you felt you could tell me. I appreciate that a lot. I won't tell anyone, I promise."
The Watcher must be furious with me right now. Susana and Gideon both told me difficult truths, and it takes a lot of heart to do so. I've only told Susana and my own partner half of the truth...
"So what sort of magic do you usually do?"
"Mostly protective magic."
"Can you turn people into toads?"
"No."
"What about slugs?"
"No..."
"Rats? Snakes? Dragons? Ooh, dragons! Do you know any dragons?"
* * *
Before Mother Joyce's speech begins, she tells me someone wants to talk with me. It's Gideon, the former witchfinder. I hope he's still a former witchfinder, at least. He seems somewhat more relaxed than last time.
"Morning, Prior Morgan. I just wanted to stop by and thank you for our conversation some time ago. It really helped me realise a lot of things, and I think I might be on the path to something better...Um...Is now a bad time? You don't look so good."
"Not at all, Gideon. Continue."
He clears his throat and tugs at his collar. "I had something else I wanted to ask you. Recently, a cunningwoman was run out of town for 'making others sick', as Samuel Annorin had seemingly told everyone. I am sure you know of this cunningwoman in some way. I had a running with her myself, when I tried to get her to identify a witch for me... but I think that's since been resolved."
"I believe I do. If it was the one who was fairly new, I bought a white moonstone from her. I highly doubt she would have made anyone ill on purpose. I overheard plenty of people saying she eased their illness and pain, and for a fraction of the price of what Annorin would have charged them."
There wasn't a word harsh enough in the Simlish language to describe Annorin. The man's ludicrously-priced cures were only considered cheap to the people who travelled all the way from San Myshuno to get them. No-one in Withernham or even Finchwick would have a chance. I do remember something that didn't seem out-of-place until Gideon has told me this.
"Though I did notice that the man who sells the plants and herbs wasn't there today. I don't know if that has anything to do with it, but I often saw her buying from him."
Judging by his expression, that might have been helpful to him somehow. He thanks me and heads off on his way. I can't forgive him for what he's done, but I suppose I ought to give him a chance to right those wrongs and make a difference from here onwards. It's awful to know the cunningwoman felt she had to flee, all because of Samuel Annorin...
* * *
Even I was surprised by how many people turned up to see Mother Joyce's speech. We've never had the monastery so full, but it was good to see that people still had faith in the Peterans after so many had converted to Jacobism under the fearmongering. The sound of passionate voices in Old Simlish echoed off the walls, a beautiful yet dissonant gathering of joyous voices. People praised my voice, but I always hated it. I once tried to mime, only for Mother Joyce to notice and harangue me about it for an hour.
As she speaks, I notice how much weaker she looks, and it pains me to watch. Everyone else seems to be in the same boat as me there.
"I want to thank everyone for coming to the monastery this evening. It means a lot to me that you would all join me in this time. And whilst our sermons are usually joyous and a little humorous, I feel the need to explain to everyone that my health has been deteriorating for some time, and that soon enough, I will have to step down from my duties."
"I don't want anyone to be sad. We all join the Watcher eventually, and we have all earned our place as a part of Them. To lose ourselves and everyone we were is not as bad as it seems. I think, in a way, to have your slate wiped clean upon your death is preferable to any good or bad afterlife. And remember, when the inevitable happens, that I will be keeping an eye on every single one of you...So don't any of you do anything naughty!"
Laughter erupts across the hall. The only one not laughing is me. I don't have it in me right now, at all.
"You have all given me plenty of joy over the years, and I want to thank everyone for their time before it is too late to do so. The Watcher is smiling over each and every one of you, and I hope you all know that. They are proud of you all, as am I."
We all join her in a common Peteran prayer:
Blessed Watcher, your thousand eyes upon me- I will give the poor my bread and my water and a place by my fire. I will shield my neighbours from cruelty and strife. I will guide those who are lost. Whilst I walk the path of righteousness, I will tread on none. Darkness has no place in my heart. I will share the gift of your love, warmth and kindness with all who come into my life, and all who leave. From beginning to end, your sunburst will light the way.
For the first time in a while, Mother Joyce looks genuinely at peace. I don't even want to think about death in any way, not at all. Peterans more or less accepted it, but in complete honesty, the concept of it terrified me in a strange way. It was coming for all of us, and that supposed to make it more acceptable, but it didn't.
"I want everyone to know that you will be in good hands when the time comes...Well, don't just sit there, up you get!"
I really don't want to be put on the spot right now, but I rise from the pew. Now everyone's eyes are on me, all accompanied by excitable smiling faces.
"As many of us know, Prior Reynold has only been with us for about two or three years now, but in that time, he's learned a lot, and has grown as a person tremendously. He kindly offered to be my successor, even at the young age of twenty-two-"
I had no choice, no-one else wanted to do it-
"-and myself and the Watcher both have plenty of faith in him to keep the Withernham monastery running well after I am gone."
No pressure.
"I know you have your doubts, Prior Reynold, but I know deep down in my heart that you will be perfect for my role. I remember when you first arrived on my doorstep. You were lost, and in need of guidance, in your own words- but you found your own way out of the darkness without much of my intervention. It takes someone truly powerful to overcome such a thing. I know that the Watcher has seen what you have accomplished, and that They are as proud as you as myself- as all of us. You have almost been like a son to me, and I am always thankful that our paths crossed, even if we did not always see eye to eye."
Why? Why did she have to talk about that? I've spent the past two years under the guise of the kind, smiling, quiet soon-to-be priest. Now everyone is going to want to know the truth. People won't trust me if they don't know my whole story, but they'd trust me even less if they did.
"I don't want anyone to worry about what the future has in store for us, because all of our futures are in good hands with him. I understand that the current times seem dark and hopeless, but with Prior Reynold, with the Watcher, there will always be some kind of hope- and I pray that you will always realise this, even in your darkest times. And when my time comes, I do not want to see tears, I want to see joy at the next chapter of the Withernham monastery. This building is hundreds of years old, and our story is nowhere near over."
The hall fills with the din of applause, and I manage to force myself to join in. I can't bear the thought of losing Mother Joyce. I will still have the Watcher to guide me, but I've relied so much on her over the years that I can't imagine a life without her...or how much it may reset my progress since I arrived here.