CONTENT WARNING: A lot of heavy scenes of bereavement.
Violeta
The din of witches and witchfinders alike has quietened down these past few hours. Not long now until dawn. It seems, for now, the witchfinders might have been dealt with- but it will be no time until Volpe rebuilds his ranks of attack dogs.
Samuel Annorin's gory and grisly demise had settled me a little, a weight off of my shoulders. I left him in a pond in the forest, where no-one would ever find him. Even if they did, they would have little chance of recognising him.
Celebrating Samuel's death can wait. I carried Oskar all the way home, many of the fleeing witches glancing over in despair at us both as my son lay limp in my arms. Once I'd gotten him home into the warm, I'd washed the blood off of Oskar, and lay him on my bed. I light some candles for my son, and I do nothing but sit and reminisce with him.
This moment reminds me of the olden days- back when I saved you.
I had work early in the morning, but I sat on the bed beside you and kept watch over you the entire night. You were as still as you are now, and just as cold to my touch. I panicked all night long that I'd gone too far, that I'd killed you for good- and yet, come the early hours of the morning, you began stirring. You made little noises to yourself, twitched and fidgeted like a newborn baby as you slowly and gradually awoke from what would have otherwise been your death.
That was the first time in a long time that I had felt anything close to emotion. I felt the way a mother must, the explosive, instinctive warmth in her chest the moment she holds her newborn and it stirs gently in her arms. In the moment you began to rouse from death into undeath, you became my responsibility.
You became my son.
I couldn't stay much longer when the sun came up- I had to go to the inn to work, but the way you were progressing, I knew that you would be okay and that I had nothing to worry about. I remember the way you eventually started to come into your new nature. The way you tossed and turned and grunted to yourself, the way your stomach grumbled, ravenous for something you'd never felt ravenous for before. You never forget your first taste of blood- and that is why I left the carcass on the table for you in your kitchen. I knew you'd feel intense guilt if your first taste of blood was from an innocent person.
It hasn't quite settled in yet, that I will never see you again- that this is the kind of death you will not wake from.
I will have to tell the rest of your family. I will have to arrange your funeral, and I will have to bury you. I think it's only right that, when the time comes, I take you back to where you came from, and I place you right beside your mother and father. Would you like that?
You will be glad to know that Samuel Annorin has been dealt with, at least. I gave him no chance to gloat about what happened to you. I know that you are probably nervous and lonely, but I promise you won't be lonely for long, my son. Your mother and father, our old friends, the men you fought alongside during the Bloodmoon- they are all waiting for you, and they will be overjoyed to see you again.
I am reminded of the one pleasure of mortal life- to know that, eventually, you will be reunited with those that you lost in life. As terrifying as natural death may be to some, there is comfort in knowing that you will be with your friends and loved ones once again, when the time comes.
I won't ever see him again. I won't ever meet anyone like Oskar again, in the rest of what will no doubt be a miserable eternity without him.
I want to make you proud, Oskar, but I don't know how. I don't have your heart, I don't have your kindness and I certainly don't have your charisma. I will have to further delay my painting classes, and focus only on distracting myself with brush and canvas. When I think of my own work, an unfamiliar deep dread fills my chest when I think about young Eli, and all of the pressure upon his shoulders... I do not know him terribly well, but the best I can do is try to support him in any way that I can.
Iris
The swelling sound of yelling, crying and screaming has the others on edge...but they don't sound angered. They sound pained, terrified.
"How many of them do you think there are?"
"Where are they coming from?"
"Do you think it's other witches?"
"I don't think it's witchfinders- but I'll go and take a closer look."
"Go careful!"
"Do not worry about me, Annabeth. I'll be back shortly."
I can't chance putting the others in danger. I step outside the settlement. Emerald's tongue flickers in the air, and her head rises high, trying to get a better look at the oncoming crowd. I sense that she isn't fearful or concerned in any way- mainly curious.
"What do you think?"
Emerald looks towards me and back to the crowd. The blurred shadows begin to take shape into people.
There's a lot of them. At first, there seems to be about twenty, but now, it looks more like forty...
Judging by their attire, it is a group of witches after all- and they're all fleeing for their lives- mainly women and children, and a few men in between them all. Across all the settlements across Glimmerbrook, I don't know if there will be space for them all. For those of them who have magic, those who can prove they have magic- they will have a place here in Glimmerbrook, a safe haven from whoever may be pursuing them.
Áine
My legs are turning to stone, and my feet are blistered. I don't know how far we've walked, or for how long. The sky is brightening a little; dawn must be upon us soon enough. I'm so used to the biting cold that I'm nearly oblivious to it.
The journey alongside the River Glimmer has not been simple- many rural hills and cutting through forests before arriving at what appears to be something of a village. That was our plan- we knew that, eventually, we'd hit some kind of other community along the riverside- and we all hoped to the goddesses that it would be a community of other witches.
"Look, Róisín! We're almost there."
"But Mother, my feet hurt so much! I can't run any more!" she cries, tears streaming. I pick her up and hold her in my arms, rubbing her back to warm her up and soothe her tears.
"Mother, I'm scared," she says, stuttering. "I miss Father and Oskar and Alistair and-"
"Sweetheart, we have to try not to worry about that right now, okay?" I tell her. "All we have to focus on is getting somewhere safe, away from the witchfinders. Look- through the trees."
We can just about make up a tall wooden tower-like house of sorts, and footsteps walking around in the grass. I have to be on my guard- it could be anyone, but we had to try. Some of the others behind us rush forward towards the area, and a woman seems to be talking to the witches.
I can't make her out too clearly, but she seems to have something wrapped around her neck and shoulders. One of the refugees is turned away by her, begging her to let her in, but she won't allow her. I won't give her any choice but to let us in- if not me, my daughter. I just want her to be safe.
Róisín cries louder, burying her head into my shoulder.
"It's okay, sweetheart. I'll make sure we're safe, okay? We're going to go and talk to that lady over there. Stay behind me, okay?"
As I get closer, I realise that she has a large green snake wrapped around her shoulders- if she's a witch, then it's an interesting choice of familiar to have. I take a deep breath before talking to her.
"My daughter and I are witches fleeing Henford, in seek of refuge."
"Ah, I see. You too," she replies, in a concerned tone. "We wondered what all the noise was. What happened to bring you all here in one group?"
"Witchfinders," I tell her, "hundreds of them. It isn't safe there right now. My daughter is only eight years old. If you don't have the space for me, then at least make space for her!"
"Now, now," she says- "Patience." Her snake flickers its tongue at me, rising tall above her head for a moment as if to intimidate me.
"It is not so much a case of space. It is a case of whether or not you are truly a w-"
"Is this enough proof?!" I yell at her, flames crackling in my palm. My daughter shrieks behind me, so I reduce my voice to a whisper. "I killed two witchfinders to protect my daughter in a haze of flames, and I will quite happily use them again if you won't keep her safe."
She doesn't bat an eyelid, and her snake tries to lunge at me before I scare it off with a palmful of fire. I realise now I may have lost my chances of obtaining refuge here, but the woman simply chuckles to herself, telling her snake to calm down, and doesn't otherwise react.
"Look! Look! I'm a witch too! Look!"
Róisín creates a ball of blue light in the last of today's moonlight, but it flickers out of her palm quickly.
"I-I'm sorry. I'm not really very good at all of this magic stuff, and I can only do it when the Moon is-"
"No need to panic," the woman says. "What's your name?"
Róisín looks to the snake across her shoulders, and back to me. I nod to her. If any bad will come of this, I am right behind her, but I don't believe anything will. We've both proven we're witches- she has no reason to distrust us.
"I'm Róisín," she replies, in a quiet voice. "This is my mother, Áine."
My daughter recoils when Iris puts her hand out. The woman tells her snake to curl back around her shoulders for a moment, and then Róisín shakes her hand.
"Sorry if Mother seemed angry. She isn't angry at you. We're just both so scared and we don't know where to go."
"I understand. I have gone by many names, but you can call me Iris. I'm sure both you and your mother are tired and frightened, are you not?"
"I am," Róisín says, her hands clasped together. "My mother is brave. I'm sure she isn't frightened."
"I noticed," Iris responds, turning to almost glare at me. "Well, you've proven to me that you're a witch, and with an attitude like yours, you'd be a great line of defense if needed. So, Róisín, if you promise to be good- and Áine, if you promise never to threaten me like that again- I am glad to offer you a place in our settlement."
I try to see the bright side of the situation. If Glimmerbrook really is the haven for witches that I hear about so often, perhaps I can finally come to learn more about my power and my history, and perhaps my daughter can live freely. As much as I would welcome an opportunity to really get in touch with my true power, what's more important than that is my daughter's freedom, safety and happiness. I just hope that she can find all of that here.
"Your kindness is greatly appreciated, Iris. We won't let you down- I promise."
Owen
It must almost be morning. At last, the fighting had seemingly ceased, and the witches had come back for their friends and relatives, both living and dead- thankfully, most of the injured witches would make a full recovery soon enough. Most of the witchfinders, on the other hand- no chance. I could tell by the sheer brutality of their injuries just who was responsible. Wherever he is, I hope Oskar is safe.
Casting so many instances of the cleaning spell left me a little light-headed, so I sit with Eli to try and relax whilst I still can.
There's no way Samuel survived the night, I just know it. If the witchfinders didn't get him, then the angered working folk of Henford did. And if the working folk of Henford didn't, then the last vampire in Henford would have likely encountered him whilst out on her witchfinder-hunt. And if she didn't, then someone will, eventually. It's just a matter of time.
"Are you going to go out and look for him?"
"No."
Eli gives me a shocked look. "Owen, if something happens to him, people are going to wonder..."
"Eli, I understand that you're on-edge at this moment, but I care little for what has or hasn't happened to Samuel Annorin. I'm sure one of his lapdogs has taken him in. He can be their problem now instead of my own."
"I understand you're concerned, and I understand why- he pretended to be your father for fifteen years, and even then, he did an awful job of even pretending. But there's no use worrying about him any longer. With Samuel far away from either of us- maybe even far away from Henford- we can finally start living our lives to the fullest, hm?"
"You sound very sure that he won't come back, Owen."
The look he gives me is one of combined joy and concern. I raise an eyebrow at him, and he looks away a little. "He can't come back even if he tried. I simply won't let him in."
"This is going to go badly, Owen. What if something's happened to him? I don't want to imagine how much fuss it'd cause..."
"Eli, you need to stop worrying about it," I tell him, perhaps a little too bluntly. "Believe me, he never worried about you half as much as you're worrying about him. Whatever happens, happens, and whatever doesn't happen, doesn't. Anyhow, the sun is almost up- you ought to get home. Your father's likely wondering where you are."
Eli gives me a slow nod. "I just hope he's okay."
"I have no doubt," I reply. "I'm sure the witchfinders were no match for him. Take care of yourself, Eli- and thank you for helping me with my patients.."
As Eli closes the door behind him, I find myself thinking more about Samuel, and for the first time in an incredibly-long time, I feel genuine warmth and happiness in my chest. It feels as if the one thing that has been weighing me down my entire life is gone- or, at least, if he isn't gone, he will be soon enough.
More people in the medical field might return to Henford upon news of his death, whenever it occurs. Herbalists, surgeons, all people we could always do with more of. Perhaps I could hire new people- townsfolk who were once put off of wanting to get into the field...perhaps Samuel's mysterious disappearance might reignite that spark.
And of course, Lydia- finally, she could come and live and work with me, and we could finally, truly, start a life together. I knew Samuel would have never approved of me falling in love with someone who wasn't from Henford, so I didn't tell him a thing about the woman I fell in love with back in San Myshuno, and had been writing to ever since I'd returned to this place.
With Samuel out of the picture, Eli was free to be whatever he wanted, and to love whoever he wanted, without fear of Samuel's disapproval. For me, I was free to finally start making a life for myself, and to finally start running this business the way I wanted to- putting the patients first. I could renovate the mansion, make improvements for the patients, get married, have children...In less than a few hours, my plan for the future had changed entirely- and it looks brighter than ever.
Eli
When I get through the door, I expect to smell breakfast right away, and I expect Oskar to announce whimsically what's on the table this morning, as he always does- but he's not even downstairs. He never misses breakfast, ever. He always makes it at the exact same time every morning.
The fire isn't on, either. The house feels almost ghostly without hearing Oskar's humming or singing to himself. I just hope he's alright. Maybe he's tired, or maybe his illness is getting worse... I head upstairs to his room, but he isn't there either.
He isn't in here, either. I double-check my room just in case he's cleaning or something, but he isn't there-
- nor is he in the workshop. I try to settle my nerves. There's every chance he might be at someone else's place. Oskar's worried about me, no doubt, so perhaps Violeta is keeping him company. Maybe he went back to her house after a long night of them witchfinding together.
When I get to her house, she's standing outside. The way she looks at me, it's almost as if she's been waiting for me...and her expression looks solemn.
"Good morning, Eli."
Violeta's always been okay with me, the few times she's spoken, but there's something unnerving about her. She carries herself with little emotion.
"Good morning, Violeta. Is Oskar with you?"
She doesn't respond. She puts her head down, and gestures her to follow me inside. There's a chill in here, and not just from the cold outside. It's dead silent.
"Do you know where Oskar is?" I ask her, with more desperation. She looks down at the floor, and back to me, without a sliver of expression across her face.
"He's sick, isn't he?"
I knew it. His illness got worse faster than either of us could predict...
Violeta puts a cold hand my shoulder. I've never heard her speak so softly before.
"Your father fought bravely against witchfinders last night, Eli. He killed over one hundred of them all by himself...but, devastatingly...he did not survive."
No.
Not Oskar. Not my father. The only reason I am where I am today is because of him.
He can't be gone. I remember when I was younger, I was overjoyed knowing I'd never lose Oskar. Then he becomes terminally ill, and now....
The tears immediately stream down my face. There's a sudden cold, yet empty feeling in my chest. The man who made me who I am today is no longer here, and now I feel the way I did before I ever met him. I feel like the fragile, lonely teenage boy who could never seem to please anyone.
"He's upstairs, if you would like to see him," Violeta says, in a chilling voice. "He looks as if he is merely sleeping."
My muscles feel stiff all of a sudden. I feel as if I can't move at all, but Violeta helps me off of the sofa. I feel like my heart has been torn out of my chest. There's an emptiness I just can't shift. I'd been preparing myself for his death, but...I never expected it to happen this quickly.
When I enter Violeta's room, I don't expect it to be so muted as it is. I turn my face away at first, but Violeta urges me to open my eyes.
"I understand that you are devastated, Eli," she says to me, doing her best to show concern. "I'm right behind you. You needn't worry."
I open my eyes.
He's right there, the morning light shining down upon him. I perch myself on the edge of Violeta's bed. I accidentally sit on his foot a little, quickly apologising to him. Violeta's right- it does just look as if he's fast asleep. I gingerly reach out to touch his hand, and it's freezing cold. It still hasn't set in that he's gone- after all, he was always cold as a vampire, when he was still very much alive.
"I hope he wasn't in too much pain when he died...When did you find him?"
"I...I don't know," she stutters. "He was gravely injured when I found him, but he...smiled at me...and he asked me to drink what was left of his blood."
My tears only grow worse, and my eyes are stinging so much I can barely keep them open. Even after being horrifically injured, he was still smiling. And Violeta didn't find him until it was too late. She'd been friends with him for one hundred and thirty years. He'd been her son for that long, and to find him like that...and Violeta doesn't have anyone else to call friends or family. All she has was taken from her last night- by Volpe and his dogs.
"And did you?"
She ducks her head a little, and I can barely see her face past the brim of her hat. I've never heard anything close to emotion on Violeta's voice, but when she speaks, her words are dripping with a kind of grief none of us mortals could come close to understanding.
"I ended his pain, Eli. I wasn't going to allow Volpe's men the victory of taking my son's life." Her voice changes to something intensely remorseful. "I killed him-"
"Volpe and his men killed him! Samuel Annorin killed him! Not you!"
I shouldn't have raised my voice at her like that.
"I'm sorry, Violeta- that wasn't aimed at you. You ended my father's - your son's - pain. Thanks to you...he didn't die because of the witchfinders. He died...because his mother chose to end his life out of mercy. I understand. I think."
Owen was right to do what he did last night. At first, I worried that if anything happened to Samuel, it'd come back to him- but now, wherever he is, I hope he's alone. I hope no-one is trying to protect him.
No, worse. I hope he's dead. I hope he's a carcass rotting away in the forests, being torn apart by wild wolves. But enough rage about Samuel...I haven't told my real father how much I loved him.
Oskar, you mean the world to me. You completely changed my life. I remember the day my father was sending me off to become someone's apprentice. At first, I was glad to get away, but part of me worried about what it might be like. I couldn't be more thankful.
You are one of the only people in my entire life who has ever treated me like like a human being, let alone like your son. You made me realise that I wasn't useless just because I didn't have magic. Even though your own feelings were diminished by your vampirism, you still found it in your heart to show love and compassion.
No-one will forget what you did for them, Oskar. Myself, Violeta, Áine, Reynold, Róisín, and the entirety of Henford won't forget. You changed countless people's lives, and I promise that we will all remember everything that you did for us. Samuel won't get away with what he did. Neither will Volpe, and neither will the rest of his witchfinders.
I'm sorry that it was my 'father' that did this to you. I know how much you loved life, and how lucky you felt to be alive when your life was almost taken from you far too early. At least now, you don't have to worry about your illness. You won't be sick or in pain any longer. You've led a long and busy life, and now you can finally rest.
I hope you know how much we love you, Oskar. I don't know how I'm going to keep the business going without you...I just hope that you'll still be proud of me, even if I completely mess it up, even if I have to quit doing woodworking at all- because I don't think I can carry on with it without you.
It was your signature on all our pieces. I learned from your masterwork. Without you, I worry I'll mess it all up- that my work will become so distinct from yours that your dedication to our business will fade away- that, even if we don't forget you, everything I make might.
Without you, I worry that I'll just revert back to the shy and useless boy I was back in my teens-
"Eli."
Violeta interrupts me and puts a hand on my shoulder, and I burst into tears...again. I want to be strong for my father, but I can't. I can't be strong without him.
"Eli, listen to me- I will admit, I may not ever be as warm or as compassionate as your father was. However, I want you to understand that, should you need me for anything, you can call on me anytime, day or night. Do you understand, Eli?"
I can't talk through the sobbing. I don't know how I'm ever going to recover from this- but it isn't just about me. I doubt any of the others know about this yet, and this is hurting Violeta as much as it is me- probably even more so. She doesn't have anyone left who cares about her. Maybe I need to be there for her, too.
"Eli..."
I just about manage a reply. "Okay. Thank you. You too," I tell her, my words broken up through my tears. "If you need me, let me know, Violeta."
Reynold
Wherever I am now, it's a strange place- bright white. Somehow, I feel a combination of nothingness and euphoria.
All around me, a world seems to be materialising- tall trees and beautiful flowers forming from nothing against a pure-white backdrop, along with...stone wolf statues? Could this be Lunvin's domain?
A mix of burning awe and sickening panic merge in my stomach. Am I dead? Did the overcharge kill me?
Now is no time for panic.
The voice comes from all directions, domineering and feminine, otherworldly, almost monstrous. She appears from nowhere, with two of Her trusty wolves alongside Her. The ethereal light glistens off Her mask and Her sword; She looks exactly as She did in my dream. Her dress barely fits around Her gravid form.
I lower my head towards Her. They say that Lunvin does not appreciate bows or kneeling or flattery, but it's hard not to be awestruck at the sight of the Mother of Wolves.
"Mother...am I dead? Am I dreaming?"
She lowers Her sword and lifts Her head, looking down upon me as if I were Her prey. They say that, if Lunvin accepts Her children after their death, they live for eternity in wolf form in Her domain. Lunvin's enemies spend their afterlives in human form in Her domain, to be forever hunted down by Lunvin's children. They are torn to pieces, limb from limb, eaten alive- only to reappear in one piece, constantly running from the wolves. The afterlife of the accepted Lunvinchenaîne was one of feral catharsis. So maybe I won't be one with the Watcher, after all.
"Which one am I, Lunvin, Great Mother? The hunter, or the hunted?"
Forever in the form of the wolf, my humanity a distant thought- hunting down those who turned their backs on Lunvin, who were vile in their lives, to be punished in their deaths. Forever under the fervent influence of Lunvin's light. The eternal hunt...
She swings Her sword around wildly. The moonlight core glows between colours, but the light fades as She aims the tip of the enormous blade at me.
Neither.
No. Please, no. I'd rather be ripped to shreds over and over than live in limbo.
"Mother, please, I beg- do not leave me to such a fate."
Cease this display of self-pity, She spits. I have no say in your fate. One of Her wolves eyes me cautiously. It is not your time.
Not my time? So I'm not dead after all. Which begs the question-
"Lunvin, if I am not dead, then where am I? I feel as if I am awake, but as if I am dreaming also."
When I move, I still feel as stiff as a dead body. It isn't making any sense. I try to blink and wake up, and yet I remain here in this strange domain.
You are caught between veils, She explains. You are not in the realm of the living, nor in the realm of the dead. You are lost- but you have the soul of a wolf. You and your pack will find you a way out of the maze of existence you find yourself in.
Lost between existences? What on Earth does She mean? Why does the Mother of Wolves never give a straight answer?! Am I going to be stuck here forever with no way out?
Lunvin slams Her sword into the ground, and the floor begins to crackle, revealing a black void underneath. The domain starts to come apart, breaking up into a blur, a bright light bursting from Her sword.
Go, my son- it is not your time.
I can hear voices calling out to me. I can just about make out my sister's teary voice, begging me to wake up. And is that...my father? Susana? Shepherd Julian? I can't make out their voices...