CONTENT WARNING: bad language, Pictured blood, violence, death and discussion of a murder, bereavement over a child
Julian
I could hear the din of voices even beyond the thick walls of the cathedral. At first, I heard crying- it was normal to hear such a thing in the cathedral, people wanting to be absolved and whatnot. What was not normal was the clash and screech of metal against metal...and a scream.
I did not expect to walk out and see this...not at all. My stomach turned cold when I saw the body, and even colder when Clem calmly told me that she'd dealt with him, wiping Jacob's sword off onto the dead man's clothes, not a sliver of emotion across her face.
"Clementia...Explain yourself!"
"I did," she replies, with a nonchalance I've never heard from her before. "I protected the cathedral, as is expected of me. I used Jacob's Sword to do the same thing Jacob did with the same sword."
I shift my focus to the body near Clementia's feet. He's wearing a familiar outfit, with a sword just slipping out of his hand. There's only one kind of person who dresses like that, and there's only one reason they'd bring a sword to my cathedral...There's a witch amongst my ranks.
Clementia- no, I cannot assume that just yet...or can I? I still remember Reynold losing his temper when I warned him of the dangers of witchcraft. The way he doesn't seem to care about tackling the problem.
"If I may-"
A woman appears from behind one of the pews. It's Miss Beck, and she's shaking and stuttering.
"Alice? What happened?"
She takes something close to a deep breath. She speaks slowly, not making any eye contact with me.
"I was out late- went to visit family- followed by witch-hunter- hid here- he thought I was a w-w-w-witch- was out at night-"
Is Alice covering for Clementia? Is she telling the truth? Is Alice the witch?
"The Watcher is watching, Alice. Tell me the absolute truth. Are you, or are you not a-"
"She's telling the truth! He came for her, I warned him what would happen if he didn't stand back- so I killed him. I'm not letting people come into the cathedral and accuse people of witchcraft!"
Clementia storms up to me. I never expected to ever be on the end of her fiery temper.
"I know Alice isn't a witch, but even if she was, it's in the book that we have to do everything we can to protect the good Jacoban people regardless of their circumstances at birth. If you really cared about women as much as you say you do, Julian, you'd stop preaching about the dangers of witchcraft and you'd stop pushing an agenda that's getting tens of hundreds of women getting killed! Even innocent men are losing their lives to witchcraft hysteria, and you're not helping! What if you lost me to a witchfinder? What if you'd lost your daughter to a-"
At that point, I want to take Jacob's sword for myself the moment she brings up Blanche. She's said enough, and she's lucky she's the only one in the cathedral who could ever get away with raising her voice at me without being kicked out for good, not to mention bringing up my daughter. I expect her to crawl back into her shell and apologise, but she does no such thing.
"I know you don't want to hear it- but I don't care. You're always talking about how everyone needs to hear the brutal, honest truth- so here we are. What you're doing is getting innocent men and women killed. You know what it's like to lose a child- why would you wish it on anyone else?"
The witches are our punishment from The Watcher. They must be dealt with...but Clementia is correct. Mistakes can and have been made, and people without magic have been slaughtered over hunches and hearsay.
All I wanted for my Blanche was for her to grow up happy and healthy and live a long life. She didn't get to be healthy, nor did she get to live a long life. For the first time, I think of those whose children have been lost to the witch-hunts, sons and daughters, the young and the old. As for the children- even if they did have magic, would have little idea of how to use it for any nefarious purpose.
I don't know what to think at this point. There's too much on my mind- the dead body. Blanche. Alice and Clementia, and whether either of them has magic in their blood. The paperwork. The meetings...
"You have absolutely no idea what kind of a storm is going to go down with the High Priest because of this, Clementia!"
"I have a title, Julian- use it."
For the first time in a long time, she's beginnning to test my patience.
"You know what the Jacobans will think the moment I tell them what happened- they'll become suspicious of every woman in the cathedral- especially you!"
"Let them be suspicious of me, then," she replies, completely flat-toned. "Jacobans not trusting women is nothing new, is it?"
I'll have to send a letter tomorrow morning. Regardless of whether or not such a situation is under control, any situation in which a life has been taken has to be reported to the High Priest. There's only one way I can sort all of this mess out. I don't know which one out of the two women is the witch, if it's either of them- but I cannot make any assumption until there is some level of proof.
"You will be present for the eventual meeting with the High Priest. I will do the talking, and you won't say a word. Is that understood?"
"What? You're going to tell them that Alice is a witch so they can come and kill her personally, are you?"
"No!" My voice echoes off the cathedral walls. "I'm going to do what no High Shepherd should do- lie to the High Priest."
"What?!" Clem gasps and flinches. "They'll kill you-"
"They won't. This isn't me not trusting your judgment, nor is it me trying to take away your agency- this is me trying to save yours and Alice's lives."
Clementia
It only took a day and a half for the High Priest to make his way to the cathedral. The last time someone had been killed in the walls of the Finchwick cathedral was over one hundred and thirty years ago, and that was from a heavy steel Jacoban eye that had come loose from the wall. The High Shepherd of that era had considered it the Watcher's revenge for him writing and drawing comical obscenities on the proclamation board.
High Priest Briar Thorne didn't look like an agreeable man in the slightest. I hate the fact that Shepherd Julian feels the need to speak for me- but I also don't know what lie he plans to tell him about the witchfinder. All I know is that my heart is in my mouth. It's almost the flip of a coin, whether or not it'll be mine or Alice's head on the chopping block. Shepherd Julian leaves me in charge of the note-taking. I force myself to remain silent, as much as it disgusts me to do so.
Shepherd Julian clearly has his suspicions about both me and Alice now- and maybe even some of the other Jacoban women- and yet here he is, trying to get us both out of trouble. I know for a fact that he isn't entirely sure whether or not we're witches, and yet he's still making the decision to try and cover this up, risking his own backside. Maybe he's even risking his life. If he thinks witches are a punishment sent by the Watcher, why bother to protect a potential witch? Proof never mattered to him before.
"It was almost midnight," Shepherd Julian explains. "Our High Shepherdess, Clementia, and a shepherdess, Alice, were present. Shepherdess Clementia was in the middle of a late-night prayer, and I was absolving Alice, when a man entered with a sword, threatening the two of them."
"And why did this man threaten them, Julian? Did he say anything?"
"He said they matched the description of a 'known witch', High Pritest. All he had to go on was 'black hair, green eyes.' That could be anyone. Not any basis to accuse someone of being a witch."
What on Earth is he saying? I thought he was supposed to be trying to cover this up?
"I told him to leave, and warned him of the consequences of threatening the women of the cathedral. He refused, and so I did what Jacob tells us to do in the book- protect our people."
Maybe that's just it. Maybe if we weren't Jacoban, Shepherd Julian would have handed us in and had us both killed- but because we're Jacoban, that's the only thing that makes our lives worth protecting. Maybe, after all, his appreciation of me was entirely conditional. If I weren't on his side, helping line his pockets and boost his recruitment, my life would just be another to throw away.
"And you did not listen to the witchfinder's concerns? What if there are witches among your ranks, Julian?"
Julian slams his hands down on the desk, and points a finger straight back at the High Priest- a brave move.
"There are no witches among my ranks! Unless a witchfinder comes to me with proof of someone's magic, I am not going to hand them in or let their lives be taken! We owe our people better, High Priest- we owe our women better, especially. I'm not giving up an innocent woman's life on a mere hunch!"
The High Priest falls entirely silent. I don't think he was expecting Julian to go wild at him like that. After a brief period of reflection on his words, he sits upright.
"I must say, Julian- had it been one of the girls, I would have had some suspicion of witchcraft among your ranks- but, I can see now, though I don't entirely agree with your outlook- that you followed the teachings of Jacob. I'll admit that I highly doubt a man like you would have any magic in his blood. You wouldn't be in your position if I didn't doubt that. That said, High Shepherd Julian Jourdain- there will be no consequence for your actions within the Finchwick cathedral."
Is there ever?
"This meeting is over. Oh, and your recruitment rates have dropped- I want them to improve within a month. Understood?"
Shepherd Julian gives him a slow, almost-sarcastic nod in response.
* * *
Some days passed since the ordeal at the cathedral. It took some time to get the visible bloodstains out of the carpet, but we were open again. This time, Shepherd Julian's sermon made no mention of witches or witchfinders alike. He also seemed on-edge, something that everyone seemed to notice.
Tonight, Alice was visiting another poor family, who'd made their home in a small forest village. With little to eat and sick children, she visited to help them. She was intent on not giving up what she was doing despite the close call, so I walked her there during the day, and walked her back to the cathedral last night. At first, she wanted to offer prayer to The Watcher to tell them of her good deed, hoping that said continued good deeds would go noticed.
We didn't expect what we came back to.
Jacob's Sword was jutting out from under the pew, as if it had fallen out of his hand.
Blood is soaked right through his robe. He's not responding to me, but thankfully, I can still feel his heartbeat, though it feels somewhat faint. I try to get him to talk, to tell me who did this, but he only responds in soft groans.
Alice doesn't react much, likely still in shock after what happened the other day.
There isn't anything I can do to save him; his wounds are too severe to be healed by anything conventional...then I remember the last time someone healed near-fatal wounds with success...It's a long shot, but it's the only shot I have. As well as save Shepherd Julian's life, maybe I can get him to see that not all magic is harmful, and that witches aren' evil by default.
"Alice, I need you to take care of him for a bit- I think I know someone who might be able to help...though I don't know how likely it'll be that he'll want to."
Reynold
I'd decided to leave the church doors open tonight. I didn't do it often, but on occasion, people would come in to pray or reflect in the relative peace and quiet. I'd go through all the letters at my study, mostly a bunch of different people needing the help of the Peteran monastery. Some of those letters had to go ignored; we could only do so much, and so we prioritised those most in need. If I had it my way, I'd help everyone, but I'm only one man, and even the regulars like Elias and Susana don't have time to devote to absolutely everyone.
I hear footsteps down the ladder, and throw myself out of my chair. Thank the Watcher- it's Clem. But what's she doing here so late?
"Clem? What's wrong?"
She holds her hands together. "Shepherd Julian's been attacked."
I expect a gut reaction to that sentence, but there isn't one. I wonder what happened? Did the witches finally come back for him?
"I...I need your help. His wounds are too severe-"
"Fuck that," I say, forgetting I'm in a monastery the moment the obscenity leaves my lips. "I'm not going to heal Shepherd Julian with the same thing he'd have me killed for having in the first place!"
"Just let me-"
"Explain? Explain what? I'm not risking my life for him."
"You're refusing to help save a life? That doesn't sound very Peteran."
"Neither does risking my life to save the Eye of Jacob."
She gives me the same haunting stare she used to do. Just like it did back then, it bores straight through my chest. I know she's not doing it on purpose. It's because I raised my voice...
"Clem, this isn't aimed at you, okay? I'm not angry with you."
Her demeanour swiftly changes, and she grabs me by the shoulder.
"I know it's not aimed at me! That's not the point; I'm not scared of you anymore, Reynold, or anyone else! I killed a witchfinder at the cathedral the other night. He came for one of the shepherds. It was only her and Shepherd Julian that were there."
"You...did...what?"
I have no reason to judge her; we both know about the witchfinders killed by a werewolf- me. I just can't believe Clem had it in her to take a life, not to mention in the middle of the cathedral. Now Shepherd Julian is going to suspect her of having magic in her blood when it's really her brother. Clem won't be hung or burned in place of me- not when it was what I did that led her to the Jacoban cathedral in the first place.
Maybe, for Clem's sake, to get him off of her back, I have to try and save Shepherd Julian's life. If it all goes completely backwards and he tries to kill me, I've got plenty of means to defend myself. On top of that, I think of what Mother Joyce did for me, and one of the first lines from the Book of Peter she gave me- about guiding a dark heart towards the light. As dark and as absolutely non-Peteran as it sounds in my head, it could be a way to get Shepherd Julian to realise the truth about witchcraft.
It shouldn't have to be the one tied to the stake to comfort the one who's about to light the match, but if this changed his outlook on witchcraft, he'd stop spreading it to his followers. Maybe he'd even take a solid anti-witchfinder stance. I know how Jacobans thoughtlessly gobble up the Eye of Jacob's words like chickens to seeds; a lot of witches could be saved.
I close my
eyes and speak quietly to Lunvin in Her language, asking for Her to
lend me Her light so I can heal his wounds. To my surprise, I feel the
warm tingling of Lunvin's light in my palms. Shepherd Julian is
unconscious at this moment- likely for the better.
To my surprise, it's working.
"Won't it wake him up?"
"It shouldn't do."
I undo the top part of his robe. His wounds are pretty deep, and pretty horrific. I place my hands on his chest, running them gently along the lacerations as the wounds begin to seal. He grunts a little, but he's still not conscious enough to know what's going on. I then run my fingers along the wounds on his face, though they're thankfully nowhere near as bad, and won't likely leave any scarring. He'll be mostly fine within a few hours of rest.
I still can't believe it's working. Maybe it was what Clem told me that changed my mind- that he'd tried to protect her.
Once I'm done, Clem utters a tearful 'thank you' as the two of us get him back into his room to rest. Clem offers to take Alice back home, and I stay with Shepherd Julian at his bedside.
* * *
My heart goes in my mouth. Normally, I try to relax and discharge Lunvin's energy from my body- but this time, I don't bother. When he wakes up, he'll see me for who I truly am. I know I'm potentially endangering myself, but if he's never attacked anyone with Jacob's Sword before, it's a good start.
I can hear him mumbling to himself, clutching his chest. I'm trying to force the words out of my mouth.
"It'll be slightly painful for a few hours- but the good news is, you aren't going to die."
The moment his eyes flutter open, he gasps, quickly trying to escape me and falling off of the bed. It's not out of anger, like I expected...he's terrified. Fear, anger, sometimes there's no difference- but Shepherd Julian jumped out of the bed like a bug had fallen on his face.
"By the Watcher! You! You're a w-w--"
"A witch."
He stutters on every single word. "What did you do to me?!"
"Someone attacked you. Clem and Alice found you. Clem asked for my help. I didn't want to save your life, because someone like you would have me hung or burned just for existing- but I did anyway.I healed your wounds with magic. You'll probably have scars on your chest, but the pain will mostly go away within a few hours."
"I see," he replies, between breaths. "I didn't think Peterans were that selfless."
"Most of them are. Me, not so much."
I carefully approach him, and eventually, he stops backing away.
"It shouldn't have taken me to do this to get you to realise the truth about witchcraft, Shepherd Julian. It's the same as any other kind of power, any other kind of weapon. It's how you use it. Witches are like everyone else- some good, some bad. Some safe, some dangerous. My magic is mostly-"
"Healing magic, and- and you- you-"
And I what? What's he talking about? Or is it just mind-jumbled stuttering again?
"Why?" he asks, nervousness lacing his voice. "Why save my life, then?"
I don't know exactly what my honest answer is to that question, so I give him a jumble of all of my answers rolled into one.
"You risked your life to protect Clem. For her sake, I healed you with magic so you would know that it was me who was the witch, and not her. I didn't want your suspicions endangering my sister, and on top of that...you did protect her, and you risked a position I know you wouldn't ever give up willingly. And for that, I thank you, Shepherd Julian- and I mean that. Though I must ask- you must have had suspicions when she killed that witchfinder. But why did you still protect her, if she had a chance of being a witch?"
Shepherd Julian gazes into the carpet.
"Shepherdess Clementia knows she can trust me. She would have told me. As for my shepherd, well, there was no proof of her witchcraft, so I told myself to think nothing of the witchfinder's accusation."
"Clem can trust you, sure- but what about everyone else? How is anyone, witch or otherwise, going to trust you if you spout the same repetitive anti-witch material at your followers all of the time? Why is anyone going to feel comfortable trusting you as the Eye of Jacob when you're complicit in something that gets thousands of innocent people killed? Some of whom don't even have magic in the first place?"
"Reynold, being Jacoban is nothing like being Peteran. If you want to change the rules, you can. If you want to progress, you can. I can't. I have people watching over me like carrion birds, and the moment I fall out of line- that's it. If I stop talking about how witches are our punishment for our misdeeds, then they'll notice. They'll assume I'm on the side of witchcraft, and who knows which of my followers will get hurt as a result?
You know as well as I do that Jacobism is built entirely on fear. I have been raised my entire life on fear of the Watcher's wrath, Reynold. I've been raised to fear the dangers of witchcraft. It wasn't until a few minutes ago...that I even knew that witchcraft could be...beneficial, in some way."
Have I...gotten through to him somehow? Will this come back and bite me in the rear? I guess the future is what it is. For now, I think I've made a point to him.
"Maybe you should try opening that third eye of yours a bit more often, instead of keeping them all shut. I know the Jacobans like it that way, but if Clem can try and change Jacobism and take it back to its roots, then so can you, what with all of your influence. Anyhow, I'm going to head home- that spell exhausted me. Get some rest, by the way- don't open the cathedral tomorrow."
Julian gives me a firm nod, and to my surprise, a genuine thank-you.
"Your sister is an asset to the cathedral, Father Reynold- as you are to your monastery. Though we never got along previously, I always admired your fiery spirit. Not that I enjoy admitting that," he says, laughing until it gives him chest pain. I go and sit on a pew for a few minutes until Lunvin's energy dissipates before heading home to Róisín and Áine.
Julian
There's far too much to take in. The woman in black- she must've been a witchfinder. Perhaps she'd assumed her colleague not returning meant one of us had dealt with him. Maybe it was revenge upon me for what I'd done- but still, how would she have known it was me? Most witchfinders know that Jacobans despise witchcraft. The only person who 'knew' it was me was High Priest...no, I don't want to think about that. Jacobism isn't like that anymore.
Clementia's bravery made me realise how I'd made the right decision to have her succeed me...especially in a situation where I was so close to death. Had Reynold not used magic...I'd be with the Watcher right now, facing Their judgment.
I still can't believe it. After all this time, a witch has been right under my nose- the Peteran priest, of all people! I'd had a minor suspicion after Clem killed the witchfinder, but nothing terribly serious. I admired Reynold's bravery, also, to prove to me that he was the witch to protect his sister, guarding her with his own life.
The part that horrified me the most wasn't his magic. I'd be lying if I said witchcraft wasn't daunting, and that I hoped I'd never meet a witch face-to-face...but there's more to his witchcraft. I knew what he was the moment his eyes glowed like the Moon itself. The moment he mentioned healing magic.
I hail from Champs Les Sims. In history, many of them lived there; it's why their language is so heavily based on my mother tongue. Lunvinchenaîné...the moon-shackled. Blessed and cursed with celestial power. They could take life as quickly as they could give it by turning into lycanthropes upon the full moon. The meek Peteran priest, also a werewolf...what terrible things could come of that? I thought the werewolves had died with the vampires in the war all those years ago.
I absolutely cannot tell anyone about this, but for what he did for me today- for saving my life, and trying to protect my Shepherdess- his secret will remain as safe with me as I can keep it. Unless I may come to have a reason to reveal his true nature, for the good of others' safety... I shall keep it to myself.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter took an unexpected turn. I forgot that Julian Jourdain was from Champs Les Sims. 'Lunvinchenaîné' is based on French, and so I realised that Julian would be familiar with the moon-shackled as a result...