CONTENT WARNING: A passing mention of murder, threat, mention of death by illness (including children), mention of homophobia, relationship issues, familial issues, everyone has a lot of issues...
- there is 1 suggestive picture, but you see it from the upper chest upwards so you don't see anything NSFW.
NOTES: This takes place about 2-3 months after the last chapter.
"What are you doing all the way out here? It's bloody freezing!"
"What are you doing out here?"
"To check on you. Can't exactly have your ordination if the man being ordained doesn't show up, right?"
"Just give me some time, Susana."
"Hey, come on, it'll be fun! Áine'll be here soon as well, won't she? I miss her. She was always fun."
"...Oh, dear. Did something happen?"
"Yeah, you could put it that way. I screwed up, a lot. We haven't spoken for months. Haven't seen her either."
"That's rough, but you never know- you might just need time! Sometimes that's all it takes. I highly doubt you would do anything to screw up a relationship that badly."
"No, it was awful. I won't go into it, but...it's not just that. It's..."
"...Everything, really."
"Oh, don't be like that, Reynold. Mother Joyce wouldn't have made you her successor if she didn't think you were capable."
"I'm starting to doubt that, Susana. I just know I-"
"-Said some things to him that were absolutely horrible. I accused him of wanting to kill his own sister. I'd be surprised if he ever spoke to me again for that."
"These things happen, Áine. People say what they don't mean when they're in shock. The mind isn't equipped to deal with everything you've been through. Reynold, of all people, would understand that. I'm sure he did the same. Said things to you he wishes he could take back. You may love him, but you are more than right to be enraged at him for what you weren't told."
"I just...I don't know how I'm going to raise a werewolf. And I don't want that to change how I feel about Reynold, but now all I can think about is accidentally drawing his ire and-"
"Werewolves aren't as out-of-control as you think, Áine. Reynold may speak like the wolf is not a part of him, but it is not so. It takes more than you may think to drive one into enough of a rage for them to transform. Many spend their whole lives constantly trying to control it. I know you and Reynold will be good to your daughter...much better to your child than Alistair-"
"Wait, what? Alistair? Who's that?"
"Ah, I said that out loud, didn't I...Alistair is Reynold's father. Some time ago, We fought alongside each other to help protect our people, as well as yours. He told me before Reynold was born that, if he ever had a son, he would hope he would never 'find the wolf in his blood'. I hoped he of all people would never have a child. Look what good that mindset did Reynold and Clementia. If I am ever to meet that man again, I can assure you it will not be on good terms!"
"Father, I didn't mean to..."
"No, no, the anger is not directed at you. It's just that I have done this a few times now. I've had to do a father's job for him so many times. Heaven forbid a man fulfil his duty as a- one moment. Did you just call me..."
"What? No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"
"-Wander off like that. I just didn't expect everything to dawn on me so suddenly. I was going to stay with Áine, but the man she's currently staying with suggested for me to come back later- when it all blows over."
"Elias said you went all the way to Nebelstadt. Said you somehow walked there. He seemed pretty confused. Not in a good way either."
"Of course he did. I thought she'd been kidnapped, but she'd taken a wrong turn and a local had taken her in for a while...a little longer than planned considering she's heavily pregnant."
"See? You went all the way to some random town in the ass-end of nowhere just to make sure your partner was safe. You're telling me someone like that wouldn't make a good abbot?"
"I guess you're right. The title just doesn't seem fitting for me though-"
"-Father. Watcher, what's wrong with me? I don't know why I-"
"Áine, no more apologising- and no more tears. It's not an issue at all, I promise you."
"But you just said about how you're always having to fill in for others, how you always have to do or finish their job for them! And now I'm just here doing the same because-"
"It isn't you that I'm angry at, Áine. It's almost never been the child at fault. It's the awful excuses for parenting that anger me. I was lucky enough to have a good father and a good mother- and I don't mean that in a bragging sense. I mean that, if it weren't for my upbringing all those years ago...I don't think I would be taking in lost strangers. I'd probably be like the evil vampires you read about in fiction."
"I wish my mother were still here...I wish she was still alive every passing day. If it weren't for her, well, I'd likely have been burned long ago."
"I don't want you thinking you're a burden, Áine. What happened back there was not your fault. What happened to Saoirse was not your fault. None of this is your fault. It doesn't matter how many times I need to 'fill in' the role of a father. I will do it time and time again if I need to."
"And if that is what you need, Áine, and that is how you feel, then I am happy to try and give you what you wanted since you were young- a caring father."
"Oskar...you had a daughter, didn't you?"
"Oh? Been snooping through my diaries, have you?"
"What? No, I-"
"I'm only joking, don't worry. Yes, I did, at one point. Anyhow, you ought to go and rest for a while."
Gideon
"And you're sure it'll work?"
"More than sure, Gideon. Just make sure you keep him warm and fed and he should be fine so long as you give him a little of this a day."
"Thank you, Henry. And how much do I owe?"
"Nothing, Gideon. It's on the house for you. You've done enough for me. And don't argue that with me either," he says, laughing and handing me a herbal remedy of his that he learned from a book he'd been reading. He wasn't anywhere near as knowledgeable as Kat on the subject, but he knew enough to clear up common illnesses. He wants to try and learn so that he can sell them cheaply. I'd told Kat of his plan, expecting her to brand him a copycat and hit the roof- and she said she wasn't going to stop him. She cared little for Henford now, preferring her corner of the forest in Glimmerbrook.
"I appreciate it, Henry. Thank you- and I'm sure my son will be grateful as well. I'm just...trying not to overthink it."
"Gideon, try not to think negatively about it... I know it's difficult, but-"
"It infuriates me, Henry. How many people had to die for them to listen to us? How many children had to die? On top of that, I still really don't know how or even if we can put a stop to Annorin. It'll take years to dethrone someone like that."
We'd done well to clear both Henry and Kat's names, but it was more the waiting game than our work that managed to achieve any goals. With the harsh winter rolling in, many of the poorer people were getting ill and dying as a result. It took dwindling numbers for them to realise that perhaps their loved ones may have survived, had they not chased out the only cunningwoman.
Some tried to place the blame on more women not becoming cunnningwomen, but the blame was misplaced. Some even tried to place the blame on Kat, wondering why she didn't plan on returning despite the fact that so many people, even young people, were dying. I don't blame her. Those children's blood is not on her hands- it's on Annorin's. I recall many modern famous names of medicine who shared their brilliance freely, and their intelligence and philanthropy was what kept many of us alive. Others, they guard their secrets under lock, key, and most importantly, cash.
Maybe I've done all I can for now. Maybe Annorin needs to wait. Maybe he'll cause his own downfall. Either way, for now, maybe I need to focus on my children.
Sometimes I wonder if I ought to take a leaf from Kat's book. Just focus on my own life, try and scrape one back together. It's not like I can keep supporting the kids once the witchfinding money runs out. On top of that, the kids not having a mother...but maybe it's too late for any of that.
I put the blanket over Josiah. He's freezing, and I can't help but think about how many people are lost to the winter illnesses. I promise him that he'll be okay. He hates the herbal remedy; it's bitter and overpowering, but it'll make him better.
As I head to the kitchen to make dinner, I feel something pulling at my leg- Daniel. The fear in his eyes make my heart freeze over like the ground outside.
"Dad? Is Josiah going to...you know...like Ella next door did?"
"No, Daniel- no. The man I helped made us a herbal remedy for him. It'll help him get better. He just needs rest, a warm blanket and some food," I say to him, reassuringly as possible.
"That's nice of him. Not like the big mean guy with the expensive medicine. I bet if that lady was still in Henford making the herbal stuff she'd be way better than him, and charge less too!"
"Indeed, Daniel, but...you know how it is. But don't worry. I keep in touch with her and she's doing just fine. Now you'd better get to bed. Go and sleep in my room away from your brother. I'll sleep on the sofa."
"Dad...am I too old for a story before bed? I don't think I can sleep right now..."
Sweet kid. "Of course not. Never too old."
Katlego
The winter in Glimmerbrook is horrible! Unbearable! We were never going to survive the winter cold in just those blankets. We were doing what we could to hunt for new winter furs, but many of the local animals were either hibernating, hunting for food themselves, or had succumbed to the harsh weather.
We'd given up trying to sleep in the tents and kept those by for the summer months, putting together all our effort to build ourselves a rudimentary cabin. Iris and the others stayed on the bottom floor, and Ellie and I had a room to ourselves. We had little but a rug to sleep on and some books, and yet I would take this over going back to Henford. With the cabin, the weather wasn't too much of an issue- not to mention Ellie and I had a great way of keeping ourselves warm.
Gideon and I had discussed our future in letters together. We both felt the same way about ourselves and our future. Dealing with Annorin seemed a monumental task, one that would likely take years, and also probably didn't always need our help. You can always rely on a super-rich man to eventually ruin his own fame.
I did wonder where I wanted to go from here. I'd planned on starting a business, and yet here, half-naked in the woods with the woman I loved, and some good friends, I felt whole. Not a Simoleon to my name, and yet this was all I could ask for.
Despite me being here for months now, I hadn't spoken much with Iris. She was a devoted leader, so much so that she forgot to make personal time with the members of the group often. I decide to seek her counsel- see what she thought. She seems wise enough.
"If you're happy here, then why would you want anything else?" she asks. "Longing for town life?"
"Goodness, no," I tell her. "I've been thinking of an old friend from back home; he was from another country, and he told me that where he was from, your name was an omen, that it sealed your fate."
"I see. And what is the meaning of Katlego?"
Nia looks up at me, and her bulging eyes return to the flames. She's been sat in the same position so long that snow was piling up on her little head.
"My mother said it meant success, ambition, that sort of thing. Yet here I am, sitting in the snow amongst a bunch of wild women...the complete opposite of both."
Iris seems more than a little offended by that comment. "You do realise that success isn't always Simoleons, yes? It isn't living in a nice house in a town that doesn't appreciate you either, Kat."
"I didn't mean to upset you, Iris."
"No, no, don't apologise," she says, still clearly upset. "I just wish people would realise that there's more to life than just throwing it all away to some factory, just to make enough money to live in a measly dump. I have lived this way for many years, and I have not regretted a single one. We pay no-one to live here, we have each other to look out for us, and we are not governable in any way. We're the worst enemies of the people in the towns and cities. We have everything they want and for a fraction of the price- power, and happiness."
Part of me never thought of it in such a way. Perhaps that's just another reason the people of Henford hate witches so much...envy, though it's still no excuse. When I wish I had what someone else had, my first thought wouldn't be to take their life.
"Kat, you already are successful in your own way. Of course, you may no longer have your business as a cunningwoman, or as an arcane merchant...but now you can leave business behind and live your life the way nature intended you to as a witch. Besides, the people in the towns, they're sucked into the world of the nobles. They believe if they think like them, they too will have gold-lined pockets. And you know what the nobles think of people like you and Ellie, yes?"
This really is as close to home as I will get. Back home, I lived rurally. I loved the quiet, the animals, the friendly locals. It never seemed like enough back then; part of me yearned for the big cities, the world outside of the one I grew up in- and yet now, to become as close to home as possible is the only thing I could ever want.
Iris leans back, and a smug smile crosses her lips. She told me once that she saw it as her duty to bring out the wild feminine in every woman she met, the woman inside the shell the men and the urban life had created. Jemima and Clara were both former seamstresses, one fleeing a controlling husband and the other fleeing plain old fashioned boredom.
"I'm intrigued, Kat- I've never seen you on the inside. Your animal form. I'd like to."
I hadn't been in animal form for so long. I missed it. For a moment, I had to remember what it was like to be the animal. I tried to put myself in its mind, padding along without a sliver of fear in my heart. The queen of the forest, hidden in the shadows, feared but never seen, not until you glimpsed the piercing yellow-
"My goodness, how majestic! I've always dreamed I'd see one and...They always looked so beautiful in artwork, and now..."
I could not be more thankful for my animal form- the same as my mother's. The beautiful tiger. What more could any witch want?
I missed how powerful I felt in this form, like nothing and no-one could do harm to me. If men didn't tremble at the thought of being turned green or made to feel a little delirious, they'd tremble at sharp claws and unforgiving teeth. I sometimes revel in the thought of strolling four-legged past a row of witchfinders, watching them cry for mercy and soil themselves at my roar. Still, even I know my limits. Shapeshifting was incredibly draining, and I didn't want to make myself unwell at overuse. Iris shows me her animal form- a brown and white deer, and nowhere near as skittish as your typical wild doe. We communicate to each other with our mind.
I...feel a bit silly now, actually.
Don't feel that way. Deer are smart- they're vigilant, and they're good at running. You're a witch- you need that more than anyone else!
You...don't think I look tasty or anything, do you?
Oh, of course not...Though perhaps if you were tossed in some herbs and spices I'd change my mind...
What? Don't say that! Especially not whilst licking your teeth like that!
I'm only joking, Iris. I should thank you. Had you all not have saved my life, I would not be here now. I'd probably still be running around Henford trying to escape Annorin's lapdogs or something. From the bottom of my heart, Iris- thank you.
Violeta
Ilse. She reminded him of Ilse. Of course she did. Whenever I gazed through the snow-frosted windows, they would always look so happy together, the way he and Ilse did.
I noticed him picking up old hobbies he hadn't touched in years. Just the other day, I heard him playing a beautiful song on the piano, with Áine sat by listening.
I hadn't seen his endearing playful side for such a long time, and yet he and Áine, like a father and his young child, built snowmen outside in the garden. I admit, I have been crushingly lonely, infuratingly jealous of the amount of time he spent with her, but...she makes him happy, and I haven't seen him truly happy in such a long time.
I call his name, and ask if I may speak with Áine. He allows it, watching from just inside the house, with the bars between us.
"Seriously? You tried to kill me and my child!" I notice the flames burgeoning in between her fingers. "The only reason I'm trying to hold back right now is because of Oskar. That's it. I don't care what happens to you. You can burn for all I care."
"You must understand-"
"Don't start-"
"In my day, your kind turned on my kind. Many of us died thanks to your ancestors. I had to do what I must to protect both myself and my dearest friend. The horrors of the old days still live on in my mind. My survival instinct always comes first, and I am not so idealistic as my friend. You, as a woman, must understand that- doing what is necessary to protect yourself, regardless of what your morals are."
"I understand it all too well. That's why I was about to blast you with flames when you attacked me- and why I'll do it again if you come any closer."
"I understand," I reply, a little solemn. "Moreso, I want to thank you. I've seen you with Oskar, and he seems so different with you around. He doesn't often bond with his houseguests, but it seems you've bought out a side of him I have not seen for a long time. A merry, joyful side that reminds me of when we first met."
"I'm also thankful for him," she replies, in a flat tone. "I'm not on the run, at least not for now. I have somewhere to call home."
"Think of it less as 'being on the run'. Where I am from and beyond, there are a whole culture of nomadic peoples who travel from place to place. To some people, moving about their entire lives is completely normal. There is more to home than a physical place, Áine- home is more about people than places. Remember that."
Ah, there. Her expression softens. I've gotten through to her a little.
"You don't have to like me. You don't have to forgive me. What you do have to understand is that vampirism, immortality, and morality are altogether complex. What is agreeable, justifiable, acceptable, and what isn't- has changed so often in both of our lifetimes that we haven't always been able to keep up. Oskar and I have both done many things that we are not proud of, many more that we should feel remorseful about, but don't. Whilst you are here, you should learn to respect that. The way that we think may not make sense to you, but it also doesn't have to."
Her eyebrows raise a little, as if I'm accusing her of something. She puts a hand to her enormous stomach, guarding the child inside of her.
"I have so many questions about him...endless, almost."
"Then ask him," I reply. "If there's anything Oskar adores, it's talking about himself for hours. I can assure you, there's very little he wouldn't discuss with you."
* * *
"You seem happy with Áine. She's been here a while now."
"She has. Her situation is...not good, so I'm letting her stay here until she's at least had her child, and has something lined up for after."
"Can I ask you something, Oskar?"
He raises an eyebrow; I don't even need to ask.
"It's to do with Ilse, isn't it? Yes, this does have something to do with her, but not in the way that you're thinking. I won't explain in detail, it isn't my story to tell, but Áine has lost her father, though he wasn't much of a father to begin with...You see where I'm going with this?"
"You can't be everyone's father, Oskar, no matter how hard you try, and no matter how good you are at doing so-"
"I don't have a choice, Violeta. We had loving parents; I don't want to see any young man or woman go without such a thing. If it weren't for all of the terrible fathers in the world I wouldn't have to replace them. You see, she...well, that's what she called me- and I said to her if that's what she needed and that's how she felt, I'd do my best, for however long it's needed. Speaking of terrible fathers, it turns out Alistair Morgan did end up having a son after all."
"The young man with the black hair? That was Alistair's son?"
"Indeed. Didn't teach him anything about his blood, either. Something else I'll probably have to do before the wrong person gets attacked- again."
As horrific has some of my experiences have been, I think back to my mother and father. When I turned, I cried in their arms- the last time I ever cried, before my vampirism had finally taken me over and rendered it impossible to. They held me, even though I was already cold at that point. They told me that, no matter what, they loved me. For someone to love you no matter what, anyone, that was something special that should be cherished. Then I fled. I couldn't bear the thought of losing control and feeding on the two people I loved the most. I hope they did not die thinking I did not love them.
"I have nothing but good memories of Ilse, Violeta. You know that- even her passing. She got to live a long and full life, and anyone would want that of their child. I have nothing to be sad about, but..."
Always a 'but'.
"...I've realised these past few years, that I don't seem to feel right without something to look after."
Even after all these years, when he stopped putting effort into giving a reasonably-normal tone to his voice, that's when I knew something was wrong.
"But you have the plasma fruit trees, and you feed the crows and the bats every morning...night...whatever."
"Of course, of course," he says, in a slightly singsong-ish voice, before returning to something more monotone- "but it just isn't the same as looking after someone. I let my paternal side take over once and now it won't go away."
I don't know how he did it, how someone so emotionally stunted had mastered the art of his own version of love. Thing is, Oskar has always been a protective type. I just fear what his reaction will be when Áine has to leave. He doesn't know it, but Oskar has never left Nebelstadt in the fear he'll burn to death even though he'll be fine, so long as it's overcast and the sun's rays aren't on him. So it isn't like he'd be willing to visit her, wherever she may go back to. Someday, I may just have to drag him out of Nebelstadt just to prove a point.
"I spoke to Áine. Thanked her and apologised to her," I tell him. "I did warn her that she may not necessarily agree with everything we've done."
"That's fine by me," he replies. "It seems many others have something to hide from her. I plan to do no such thing."
Reynold
It took me a while to stop panicking down in the basement. All the time I'd been here and I'd never heard so many voices singing. It was an old song that people had used for years to welcome a new leader to the Peteran monastery. I don't think anyone was too happy to see Shepherd Julian here, but I wasn't going to deny him a place under the monastery roof, so long as he didn't try to convert anyone whilst he was here.
Usually, it was the current abbot or abbess who blessed the Angel's Talon with the prayer and in turn, blessed their successor- but without Mother Joyce around, I'd chosen Susana to do it instead. A chill spreads through my shoulder as she places the sword down on me, passing it to me after. Holding the Angel's Talon felt strange. No-one has even touched this sword in years. Mother Joyce never once used this sword. So many years of peace seemed unrealistic, especially for a woman as feisty as she was.
I first vow to protect the people whichever way I can. The exact text written in an old guidebook was to never raise fist nor sword, and to only raise your shield, but times have changed. I don't know what I might need to do, what length I might need to go to, to do what is necessary for my people...goodness, that almost sounds Jacoban...
I can feel Clem's eyes burning into me from the middle row. Shepherd Julian raises an eyebrow, the way your disapproving distant relative might- something between confidence and mockery.
Part of me is resisting the urge to become ridiculously emotional. Even after all the mistakes I've made, everyone is smiling. Even Clem manages one, and it doesn't even look forced. Even Elias. I haven't ever seen him smile since I've known him.
I repeat the common Peteran prayer about darkness, light and the like, as well as a prayer to the Watcher and to Mother Joyce. She is part of the Watcher now. She won't know what we've said about her, but an aspect of her is still going to have her constant eye on me, almost like she did when she was still alive. Both for her, for these people, and for my partner and unborn child, I have no choice but to pull myself together- as tough as that might turn out to be.
This time, when I tell the people of the church to have faith in what comes next, I mean it. When I tell them that we should do all we can to make a positive difference where it's needed, I mean it.
Everyone, in unison, welcomes me, 'Father Morgan', as their new leader. It just feels like such an odd term of address. Just hearing it makes me feel like I've aged twenty years on the spot. The formality doesn't seem fitting. It won't hit me for a while just how much things are going to change.
This bout of confidence won't last, but I have to try and push past it. If I can do well as an abbot, then I'll do well as a father- and if I can do well as a father, then I can do anything. It's a lot on my plate, but maybe it won't be so daunting as it seems. Mother Joyce was well-known for being picky. She wouldn't have chosen me if she didn't think I was capable.