CONTENT WARNING: mention of a dead child.
Róisín
The world is a scary place. Father tells me that childhood should be a time of enjoyment, but it's hard to enjoy things sometimes because of everything that's happening. It's hard not to think about the sick children, and the witch-hunts.
Someone knocks on the door.
"Come in."
"Morning, Little Rose!"
According to my mother, that's what my name means. She called me that because roses were beautiful and a precious gift, that's what she said to me. So that's what Eli calls me as a playful nickname. He's always so cheery all of the time.
"Uncle Eli...I'm not feeling very good."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"I'm worried."
"Worried?" he asks. "What about?"
"I don't know. There's a lot of bad things happening right now. I'm lucky because I have a mother and a father and a home, but not everyone is that lucky, are they, Uncle Eli?"
Eli looks worried himself for a moment. I never see him like that. Does Uncle Eli worry about things too? Maybe he just doesn't tell anyone?
"You're right. They aren't always as lucky as we are, Róisín. Some people don't have homes to live in. Some don't even have families, and it's sad. It shouldn't be like that."
"But Peterism says that all good-hearted people should be equal."
He tilts his head for a second. "Maybe they should, but it's a little complicated."
"Do you have magic, Uncle Eli?""I don't," he replies. "My brother and Samuel do. Some people of magical lineages aren't always born with it."
"Do you wish you had magic?"
"I'm used to it now," he replies. "Anything I'd use magic for, I'm already used to doing manually. Anyway, are you excited to see your father?"
"I am, but I'm nervous." There were going to be a lot of people there. All the Peterans are nice to me, but it's scary sometimes with so many people.
Eli laughs to himself. "Well, I know what'll cheer you up."
He pulls something wooden out of his jacket pocket- it's a horse!
It's perfect! It looks just like one! Its body is all smooth and its mane and tail are so pretty!
"Thank you, Uncle Eli! I love it so much!"
Uncle Eli has made me lots of toys, and each one has its own name and story. I like thinking of little worlds for all of my toys. It's nice to live in my own little world sometimes. I don't have to think about the scary things happening for a while.
"Anyhow, we'll have time for play later. We ought to get to the monastery."
I suppose it might be good. There'll be lots of good food there!
"And if you're good, maybe I'll take you to ride a real horse when I have the time."
Ride a real horse? I can't wait!
* * *
Eli drops me off at the monastery and heads back. I can't help but think he was worried about something, too. He asked about me. Should I have asked about him? I don't want Eli to be sad. He's always happy.
I have must missed my father's long speech! It seems everyone is enjoying themselves, talking amongst each other. The smell of freshly-cooked meat is so good! I hope everyone has left some good bits for me!
After the fortnight of mourning, Peterans come together to celebrate life, the lives of those still with us, and those who have passed. The fortnight of mourning is the time to be sad, and the celebration of life is the time to be happy. Everyone is chatting amongst each other. That's when Father spots me, scooping me up in his arms. I missed him so much.
"You arrived just in time!"
"I know! I missed the big long speech!"
"I meant that the food has arrived!" he replies, chuckling. "Why don't you have a look around? I'm sure the children would love to have someone else to play with."
Even though bad things are happening, and all the Peterans have been sad for the fortnight, everyone seems so cheerful today. It makes me happy, too, seeing other people smile like that! I'm excited to go home and play with my new horse, but maybe I should try and get to know the other children. Most of the Peteran regulars are all adults, and they're friendly, but I can't talk to them about kid stuff.
"So does this mean you'll be home again now?"
"I will," Father replies, kissing me on the cheek.
"Mother has been saying she really, really wanted you home again," I tell him, "but she wouldn't tell me why. She must have missed you even more than me! I bet she missed all of the kisses and cuddles."
"Indeed, the kisses and cuddles...I'm sure she did," he says, in a flat voice. Am I missing something? Adults always have so many secrets.
After eating some of the food, I talk to a girl about my age. She seems funny and friendly and we play together for a while. Her name is Tabitha and she lives in Willow Creek. I tell her about my new toy, and she says it should be a girl horse named Beauty. I like it! I think we're going to be good friends. Father says I should make as many friends as I can when I'm young, because it can be harder to make friends when you're older.
Reynold
Soon enough, once everyone's done with the feast and the cheer, most people leave. Áine goes outside to talk to Abigail and Mason, the two that she helped some years ago out at some village, who we're both thankful are still alive. Róisín is outside playing with the children under their watchful eye. I hear a tutting sound behind me, and once I hear the accent, I recognise him straight away.
"Ugh. Of course they took all the best cuts of the meat...I need to stop arriving to events so late."
"Shepherd Julian?"
He turns to me, and lets out an awkward laugh. "Ah. Just Julian, I'm afraid."
"Oh? You finally retired, did you?"
He groans to himself.
"Goodness, no. I was kicked out, as was your sister."
Kicked out? For what?
"What on Earth happened?"
"To put a long story short, the higher-ups didn't like that we refused to speak out against witchcraft, and so had us removed."
"You can't be serious. You've been there for years!"
"Indeed, but Jacobism is changing, and now I am no longer needed, I suppose," he replies. with a sigh. "The religion isn't as set-in-stone as many think it is. I tried to turn Jacobism back around to what it used to be, but it seems this new imitation of Jacobism is what's popular now. I've been replaced with some battleaxe named Juniper, one of the Great Convincers. They like to say Jacobism cannot be changed, but it's not true. Yacothia realistically can't keep an eye on everyone all of the time, and they're taking advantange of that."
So the Jacobans now have a proper hand in the witch-hunts, just as we were starting to get things under control again. Wonderful.
"Don't be surprised if Juniper sends you a letter requesting to meet you, Father, but don't let her get under your skin. She'll try to lure you into a corner with her high position in the church as a woman, but believe me when I tell you she does not care for women in the slightest. She only cares about herself."
A shiver crosses my spine. I doubt the Jacobans liked the fact Julian was 'fraternising' with me, as Julian said they'd called it. There's every chance they'll know about my magic, and there's every chance it will endanger the monastery.
"So what are you doing now?"
"Clementia and I help get rid of the witchfinders. If I had it my way, I'd give them a little taste of a Champs les Sims protest, but I'm almost eighty years old, Reynold. I simply don't have it in me."
"Isn't that a little dangerous, Julian?"
"Of course not," he replies. "I'm lucky to be alive as long as I have been. I have no fear of death, Reynold. If the witchfinders are brave enough to try and overcome over forty years of daily swordsmanship practice, then I say let them try their hardest."
"If you say so," I reply, hoping he doesn't catch on to the sigh. "So where are you living now?"
"Your sister has kindly let me stay with her."
Julian
Earlier in the day, Clementia seemed unsettled at breakfast. She'd kindly made me a bowl of porridge, but she'd hardly touched her own. After we were done eating, she finally opened up.
"Sorry if I've been quiet. My father has come back after years of being away, and...I hate him so much. I hoped I'd never see him again, but Reynold insists he needs his help."
"I see. Is your father one of the moon-shackled, out of curiosity?"
"He is. He used to always take out his anger during the full moon on me. Never once apologised. Never cared about me growing up. It was all about Reynold. He's been fine without my father, but he insists he needs him to teach him properly about his blood, for his daughter's sake."
"Even if you don't forgive him, Clementia, perhaps it's best to let Reynold do what's best for him," I tell her. "If he needs his help in order to be a better father to his own child, then he's just trying to be a better father than what your father was to you. He doesn't want a repeat of that, is all."
She lets out a strained sigh.
"I suppose I'll have to force myself to get along with Father, won't I? He'll no doubt want to get to know his granddaughter, and I can't let my hatred of him rub off on her."
I felt as if I myself had been something of a father to Clementia. It was only natural in the church environment. Everyone became your brother, sister and child all at once. You were a father to your people, but sometimes in a more literal sense than what the term implied. If anything, it was comforting helping people in such a way. It made me think of my Blanche, and how much I wished I could have seen her grow into an adult and start her own life. When I lit the candle for her in the monastery, as Clementia lit one for Mother Joyce, I thought about what she may have looked like grown up, what she may have looked like the day she donned the Jacoban robe and became a shepherdess herself.
I've learned the hard way over the years that I cannot obsess over the idealised future that exists in my mind, and that I have to keep my focus on reality. It was part of the reason why Reynold's revelation of his magic hit me the way it did. It made me realise that any of these witchfinders could have gone after my Blanche, purely on the basis that she was a girl. If she were still alive, she would have hated me for what I'd done.
"You don't have to force yourself to love him or forgive him, Clementia. But, for the good of the little girl, but save your anger for him. Give him the chance to be a good father again, and a good grandfather. There's always the chance he's learnt in his years of solitude of his errors."
"Maybe you're right," she replies, in a weak tone. "I hate the Peteran-like obsession with second chances, but maybe it's been long enough alone that he's realised what mistakes he made raising us. There's always that. I wish it weren't like this, Shep- I mean, Julian."
She puts her head in her hands.
"Why is it always like this? Me constantly forgiving the mistakes of every man who's ever wronged me?"
"Like I said, Clementia, you don't have to forgive. But it may be beneficial for your brother's sake, and for your niece's sake, that your father is back in the picture. If he can help Reynold understand himself better, then it'll strengthen your bond with your brother as well as his bond with his father. Clementia, your family has been fractured for so long...Don't you want a chance to have something of a family again?"
She looks at me with apologetic horror.
"No, no, I'm not saying that because of my Blanche. I'm saying that because sometimes a little stability can make all the difference."
"We had a family, Julian, and thanks to the bitch in white and gold, we don't have one anymore."
I put a hand on her shoulder. "We don't need the cathedral, Clementia. We're our own people."
* * *
Eli
Things haven't been entirely pleasant around here. I've been doing most of the work, and I'm exhausted. Oskar hasn't been too well lately; he tires easier than usual, and I don't want him overworking himself. I'm trying not to think the worst, and so is he, but it's difficult not to. He seemed fine. It seemed like he was finally getting used to being human.
The letters are piling up, all from impatient clients who still expect one human to do the job of a human and a vampire, in the timeframe of a human and a vampire. No matter how many times I write back to say circumstances have changed, I always get the same responses.
For the first time in ages, there's an anxiety I can't shift. What if this isn't just a one-off, and that Oskar turning back into a human after so long is actually going to make him unwell in the long run? I can't imagine how much stress that must be on him physically.
It's been a while since Dan and I last met up. We're both busy with work, and we both had things on our minds that we clearly didn't want to talk about. I noticed he never spoke about his job much; I never know whether to ask or not, since when I do I get a vague answer; he must hate it there. Every time I try to get him to speak up, he seems hesistant to. Neither one of us wants to bother the other one with our issues. We were both such cheerful people that we didn't want to bring each other down, I suppose.
With Reynold back home after two weeks at the monastery, I figure I ought to give my sister a break from parenting, so I decide to take Róisín out horse-riding. When she arrives, her eyes light up at the sight of Griselda.
"She's so pretty!" she squeals, until I urge her to quieten down as not to spook her. She gazes towards Róisín, sniffing her hair from a distance. Róisín carefully walks closer to her, putting a gentle hand on her side. Griselda lightly nudges her, and Róisín gives her a hug, stroking her mane.
"Hello, Griselda," she says, in a quiet voice. "I'm Róisín. You're very pretty."
I let Róisín and Griselda get to know each other for a while, and she seems to take to the girl pretty quickly.
"I can't believe you have a real horse. I wish we had a horse!"
If my sister had any space for a stable, I'd probably buy her one. Then maybe Reynold could stop borrowing Elias's, and maybe he'd stop grumbling to me about it every time I step foot within two centimetres of the monastery.
Seeing Róisín so happy around Griselda made me miss my own childhood. My mother had a love for horses. At one point, we had two or three, and she'd ride each of them every day. It wasn't until I was older that I realised the horses were her escapism from Annorin's worsening greed. It was a way out of the house, only she'd felt terrible for it when she realised how awful he was to both Owen and myself. Even through watching her own husband slowly turn into what he is today, she still always wore a smile.
* * *
The weather isn't on our side, but Róisín isn't complaining. Her joyful laughter fills the early morning silence of the woods.
"This is amazing!" she cheers. "I feel just like one of the princesses from my storybooks!"
One thing I do miss about childhood is how much easier it was to deal with things. When things got rough at home, Owen and I at least had our books.
We decide to rest for a while in the grass.
"Looks like it might rain soon. Are you sure you don't want to go home?"
"Can we stay here? Please?"
Well, I guess the little princess gets what she wants. Another thing I miss from childhood- I actually enjoyed the thought of being covered in mud.
"Uncle Eli, can I ask you something?"
"Anything, Little Rose."
"Okay." She kicks her feet at the grass. "Do you worry?"
Normally, no, but lately, definitely.
"Everyone worries now and again, Róisín. Even grown-ups."
"Oh. Well, what makes you happy again?"
My ideal response would be a day off work and a bottle of wine, only neither of those are useful options for an eight-year-old.
"Spending time with my family, spending time with Griselda, spending time with my-"
"Hm? Your..."
"Oh! Is it a girlfriend? I didn't know you had a girlfriend!"
Oh, Watcher. "Not quite a girlfriend, Little Rose. My partner is a man."
The gasp she lets out echoes throughout the trees. "Really? Can I meet him someday?"
I can't help but chuckle to myself. Spending time with Róisín makes me think about Oskar, and how he'd spent most of his life being something of a father figure to people who needed it. I wonder, could I do what he's done somewhere down the line? I don't know if I have it in me, but I enjoy spending time with Róisín. There are probably plenty of little girls like her who don't have a loving family to look after them.
"Maybe, someday. I'm sure he'd love to meet you."
Róisín changes discussion topics so fast I can barely keep up with her. "Eli...You seem very worried. Are you okay?"
It's hard not to. Oskar has done so much for me, and I don't want the fact he's gained his old life back to eventually be what overcomes him. I can imagine it's incredibly stressful on him to have to regain his old self back slowly, but it's hard not to overthink about it.
"I'll be fine, Róisín. Just adult things."
"Okay. But you can always talk to me! And I'm sure Griselda will listen to you too!"
She gives her a hug, and Griselda lowers her head and utters a playful nicker.
I feel a raindrop or two on my forehead, but I suppose we can stay out here a little while longer.
Áine
I'm glad to have Reynold back after so long without seeing him, though he seems exhausted. I don't ask him what I was going to ask him; I think it can wait a few days.
He tells me about his father returning, and that he hopes that he can try to mend his relationship with him, for our daughter's sake.
"Áine...I think the next full moon, Róisín should see who I truly am."
"I don't want you two anywhere near each other on the full moon, Reynold."
"No, I mean, once the transformation happens."
"You think she's old enough?"
"I think I've been holding back on it too long," he replies. "Seeing my father again made me realise that I can't make the same mistake he did."
"I mean, sure, but she's still a child. We've still got plenty of time."
"I think she'll be fine, Áine."
"You have no idea how hard it is to get through to her during the full moon, Reynold. I can barely get her to eat her dinner."
As much as I loved them both, trying to do anything during the full moon is impossible. Reynold avoids me until the night is over, and Róisín's tantrums are near-unbearable. I know it's nothing either of them can help, but it can get nightmarish at times.
"It'll be okay, soon enough. Though Clem's not entirely on board with my father coming back, but I think Róisín will like having someone else around who has her kind of magic."
"Okay, but if he tries to mess you or her about, then I'm setting him on fire."
* * *
It's not long until Reynold is asleep next to me on the sofa.
Seeing Abigail again warmed my heart, as well as seeing her son, Mason, who's in his late teens now. They still live at their little village, and whilst some have come and gone over time, she does her best to keep it safe from any witchfinders. She mentions having the help of 'some witch' she's never met, with fierce red eyes, who wears the bones of her victims- at least, that was her description.
As much as I love being a mother, I find myself thinking about when I used to leave the house and meet new people and try new things. These past few years, I've felt bound to this place. I want to take my daughter out and show her the world, and I find myself terrified to do so.
Eli and Oskar offer to babysit often, but I don't want Róisín to feel like she's not wanted, nor do I want them to have to keep sidelining their work for my sake. Still, I also want her to get to know her extended family better. After all, Someday, it would be nice to leave this place and head elsewhere. I'd even go back to work again if I had to. Money wasn't so bad at the moment. Owen and Eli's donations to the monastery meant Reynold didn't have to spend much of his own money on charitable work, though he still donated a share of his earnings.
The same way that Reynold feels distanced from his blood, so do I. I have hardly used magic for a long time, and I keep poring through my mother's tome and yet nothing sinks in. To be around witches like me again...it would be a dream. I don't want to forget about my gift, no matter how much the world wants me to.
Still, I suppose I should be grateful of what I have- a home, a loving partner, and a daughter who's survived and thrived this long. The harsh winters were always worrying times for most families, and yet mine is still intact.
I fear the day I try to head elsewhere for something different. I may lose one of them, but I cannot stay cooped up here forever, and yet I cannot loom over Róisín's head for the rest of her life. Once she gets older, she'll want to explore the world outside of our home and our garden. Her curiosity will only come to upset her, but I suppose it is the way of the world- to open your eyes to the beauty of the world means you will also witness some of the most terrible things you will ever see. Even to this day, I can remember the woman who burned at the stake in absolute clarity.
I want to protect her, but I have to let her go at some point. If I let her go and something happens to her, I'll never stop blaming myself, but I'll ruin her life if I am always trying to follow her everywhere she goes, and she'll resent me. That's the trouble with being a mother- every decision you make will somehow be the wrong one- if not in your eyes, then in someone else's.