CONTENT WARNING: Deals with mental unwellness (of a fantasy sort anyhow) horror-like scenes with abomination-like ghosts, nothing all that scary but just going careful and covering my back. Some pretty body-horror-y description as well, but thankfully that part isn't pictured.
Reynold
Not now, Reynold! Wake up!
It's not the same as it was. The bright white, the flowers. This place is almost entirely black, save for a blue glow. It's not an endless void like the white realm- it looks more like I'm boxed in. There's a few sparse rocks and gems. From the blue glow materialises the false Lunvin and Her wolves. Eventually, I came to realise that the appearances of Lunvin were not Her. They're echoes of a fragmented mind floating around in my subconscious, hanging on to all of those last threads of hopeful images left. Without the dreams of Lunvin and of Áine, the madness of all this would have swallowed me long ago.
"You!" Their voice screeches through the black box, slipping from the domineering contralto of the supposed Lunvin to something inhuman and almost androgynous. "You vicious, ungrateful- Do you know what we did for you? All of the effort we went through, just for you?!"
They aim the crystalline sword towards me, and the wolves bare their fangs.
The raucous snarling tears through my skull.
"Do what for me? Harass me day and night for almost a year? Scream at me for help I can't give you? I'm not doing this to spite any of you! I'm doing this for my daughter! I know you're not the real Lunvin! You're just a flicker of my imagination!"
"We were never the real Lunvin! Of course we weren't!" they yell. "We took on this form- and that of Áine - to comfort you! We chose these forms to to assist you emotionally as you were gradually dying! We were trying to ease your transition into the world of the dead! After all we did, crafting as real a world as we could for you each time with our shattered memories of the living world- you want to toss it away!"
A scream forces itself from my lips, bouncing off the 'walls' of this place. So that's why the world looks this way- the ghosts have given up trying to feign a diluted version of reality for me. They could barely remember what the mortal reality looked like in the first place.
"You pretended to be my own partner and a bastardised version of my goddess?! I'm not doing this because I don't want to help any of you!" I find my voice becoming more and more frantic, and I can't do anything to stop it.
"If I could, I would help all of you- but I can't! I'm a former priest, not a deity! I need to teach my daughter how to control her magic before she repeats all of mine and my father's mistakes- I can't do that without my magic! Your lives are over, and have been for longer than you can remember! Mine isn't! The lives of my family, and of the living are far more important!"
The catharsis is exhausting. My eyes burn. My brain feels as if it's about to burst. A contradictory empty rage fills my entire body. I can't go on like this - I can't become trapped for hundreds of years like Tsuna is. Whatever spell Áine has learned, all I can do is pray to Lunvin that it'll work.
Whether the true Lunvin has abandoned me or not, I cannot abandon Her- Lunvin would be frowning upon me if She could see me now, about to break. Wolves are tenacious. They don't give up no matter what, and neither can I. No more weakness, and no more excuses.
I take a breath before I speak. "Tell me, then - who are you, really?"
The wolves prepare to attack. If they do, it doesn't matter. They aren't real. They're illusions. If they aren't illusions, then my only choice is to endure.
"The living call us 'night wraiths'," it explains, its voice strangely calm, sounding as if multiple people are speaking at once. "We died like you did, of severe magical overcharge. The ghosts you 'helped' were those who died at the hands of witchfinders. The ghosts that helped you were the night wraiths. We did not want you to die the way we did- terrified and alone.
You partially survived. We were not so fortunate. When we died, we never saw our children again, our mothers, our wives...But you, you can come and go as you please. You have more than what we had, far more- and it still is not enough for you!"
"We are forever trapped in hellish torment. We were desperate to earn your favour, to ease your transformation as you eventually became one of us. You are as close to the living world as we have seen for time immeasurable. In part, we yearned for that sliver of the living world you carry with you."
Night wraith? Whatever that is, whatever it may look like...I've been slowly turning into one?
"We are finished trying to comfort you. If you insist on knowing who and what we truly are, then so be it."
'Lunvin' becomes completely still, and her wolves dissipate into nothingness. Her skin starts to crackle, glowing blue energy shining through the cracks and blinding me for a moment. Giant black claws tear from the false Lunvin's pregnant stomach, prising its skin apart and splitting the entirety of the old body down the middle as it withered into shadows. The new creature levitates, and reveals itself in a flourish of deathly black silk.
I remain where I am, unperturbed. Whatever is to happen next, success or failure, life or this twisted perversion of death- I must face it all with acceptance. Both Tsuna and Lunvin realise the importance and the acceptance of that which does not last, even if that happens to be yourself.
Nevertheless, I must persevere. Although my ties to Peterism are withering, I still remember all of my sermons on the power of hope-
I feel a chill throughout my entire body. From the tips of my fingers, something is spreading right down through my arms like a disease. My skin turns translucent to transparent, and claw-like protrustions grow from my fingernails. There's no pain. There's nothing. Just the spreading transparency throughout my entire body.
After all of her work and dedication, Áine might be too late, after all.
The wraith crackles with mist and sparks of lightning, and wears a mask across most of its face, only revealing monstrous teeth which rival Violeta's.
"After all we've done for you, you return to life, and yet we remain here..."
I feel a lightness to my body that I've never felt before. For some reason, I'm wearing a tattered version of my old Peteran robes.
"No! I will not let you return."
"What are you doing?! What about my family? The people who need me?"
I hold on to the only semblance of life I have left- my memories of all of the people I loved, and who loved me. The memories of all of the people who gave me a second chance. I try to picture the living world- the plants, the cliffs, the sky, and the pictures in my mind are blurry and inaccurate already.
"You will complete your transition into the world of the dead!"
Áine
I tell Róisín to stay in Annabeth's room with her and the other children to play. I tell her not to worry about her father- that I'm going to cure him of his curse. I'm more than confident; I have to be, otherwise it will fail. This spell will require everything I've learned, from my mother and from the women here.
He's fast asleep, but his breathing is shallow. He grunts to himself and turns his head a little, but he's still not conscious. There's no more time. I have to perform the spell.
"Iris- thank you, for everything. I need space and some quiet to perform the spell."
Iris nods and leaves, saying she won't go far. She's wearing the flowers in her hair- the ones she says will stop demons. She looks darkly at Reynold before she leaves.
With my mother's grimoire at my side, I begin the ritual.
I think of Reynold and his torment. I think of our memories, our first kiss, the time we made love on Beltane night, the time he assisted me when I was giving birth to our daughter. There's a cold dread in my stomach that doesn't belong to me, I can be sure of it. There's a sensation of recent death, a deathly emptiness. The sensation of being lost, a fury buried under feigned gentleness.
Reynold, my love - I will free you from your nightmare.
I picture a swarm of raging ghosts swirling in my mind. I will free him from them, and send them back to their side of the veil.
Exorkízo.
* * *
I lose my footing and trip onto some dusty ground. There's no air here, yet I'm still breathing.
I brush the dust from my dress and wipe it from my eyes. Whatever I did, it wasn't enough- and wherever I am is no place on Earth. Is this the world of the dead? Another dimension entirely?
The sky is a toxic purple. Huge stones line the horizon like a dragon's fangs, and crystals rise from the ground. Glowing stones float around the area.
The sounds of my footsteps seem to echo off of the rocks and back at me.
It's unreal. It's unnerving. It's...
Beautiful.
"Reynold! Reynold, it's me, Áine! I'm here now!"
My words are repeated back to me by the echo, each time sounding quieter and more mocking.
"No! Don't you dare!"
His voice doesn't sound the same. It sounds distorted and monstrous, with a kind of vitriolic ire that he'd never have shown in life, not even on the day of a full moon.
What's happening? Why does he suddenly not trust me? He knows I was going to do this- am I too late? Does he believe that I betrayed him?
He appears to me, finally- and I can't believe what I see. He's a translucent deep blue, with blue eyes that glow and crackle with what looks like lightning. His fingers are replaced by huge demonic claws. He's wearing his Peteran robes, only they're ripped in places. The way he looks at me, it's not the way any kind man would look at his partner.
"Reynold, I'm here to help you!"
"And whose fault is that?" he screams. I've never seen him this angry before... "You told me yourself - this is an illusion! Stop wearing the disguise of the woman I love! You've already taken everything from me and ruined the lives of countless people! What more do you want from me?"
What is he talking about? What disguise? I can't tell what's happening. Is his mind so broken that he doesn't recognise me? Is it something to do with the dreams, or the ghosts that hassled him?
"I'm not a disguise or an illusion! It's me. I'm really here now, Reynold. Please, what happened to you?"
He says nothing to me. I'm starting to think I know what's happened...he's become one of the night-wraiths described in my mother's grimoire. There's a good possibility that I am really am too late- but I'm here now. I have to try. The curse within him- I have to get it out.
"I can prove to you that it's me! We fell in love when I arrived in Withernham after leaving home. We shared our first kiss in the woods just outside of it. We stayed at Oskar's together when I was pregnant. We have a beautiful daughter named Róisín-"
"You're not fooling me," he says, his voice almost a snarl. "Don't suddenly decide you want to try and comfort me again. Leave me to my death in peace, night-wraith. You've done enough."
Why does he think I'm a night-wraith?
"Reynold, if you won't listen to me..."
"I won't listen to you! I want nothing more to do with your illusions! Leave me be!"
I give up trying to reason with him. I have to try and get this out of him one way or another.
With the spell prepared during the ritual, I lunge at him. He quickly darts backwards, and the two of us float in the air glaring at one another for a moment. My vision turns pink with the energy of the spell.
There's a shadowiness lurking within his chest; I can see it clearly now. That must be it. He's only been like this a short while. I pray to whatever gods and goddesses are listening that there's still time.
"Night-wraith! Leave my partner's body at once! Return to the realm beyond!"
I shove my hand straight through Reynold's chest, and a light spills out from him. There's a scream, but it isn't coming from him...it's coming from the night-wraith's curse inside of him.
Reynold's eyes meet mine, wide and desperate as I tear the ghost from him. For a moment, he utters something that vaguely sounds like my name.
The night-wraith's body screams shrilly, writhing and shrivelling as the spell's magic entwines its emerging body, eventually disappearing into shadowy smoke. A burst of light covers the whole area in bright white light.
Once my vision clears, there's no land or crystals or rocks - just the purple sky, struck with frantic arcane lightning. It appears to be coming apart. I find myself floating amongst the chaos, the residual magic still crackling through my fingers. Everything is completely silent, save for my calling out for Reynold.
I gaze up, and he's floating unconscious in the void. His body is restored to normal, and he looks exactly as he did when he arrived in Glimmerbrook. I try to propel myself through the void towards him, almost as if I'm swimming through it.
I reach for his hand, pulling him towards me. He's light as a feather in this place. I hold him in my arms, trying to rouse him from unconsciousness.
"I'm not an illusion, Reynold. It's me. Please, wake-"
He takes in a deep breath, his voice slurred when he tries to speak.
"Áine...It's you," he croaks, running his hand across my cheek. "It's really you."
In a burst of excitement, I turn to him and hold him. I hold my hand to his chest and feel the gentle steadiness of his heartbeat. He isn't cold anymore. His eyes focus upon me, and a little smile rises on his face.
"You're free now, Reynold," I tell him, softly. "Once we get out of here, you'll be fully in the land of the living."
"You went through everything you did to save me," he replies, his voice a little clearer. "I'm sorry. The ghosts pretended to be you to comfort me before they betrayed me...I thought you were-"
"You don't need to apologise, my love. You're okay now- that's all that matters to me. You won't be tormented by the dead anymore."
"It's been so long since I felt your touch, Áine. I'm beyond grateful to have you back, and for everything you've done for me."
"You took me in when I needed it most, Reynold. The least I could do is repay the favour."
I'm unsure how much longer we will be in this place. The void is becoming more and more vague, and I can hear the voices of the witches muffled somewhere.
The two of us share a kiss before this strange place collapses in on itself. I finally have him back after all this time. Not only that, but I performed an incredibly-powerful spell well beyond the abilities of someone with my kind of experience. Is that anything to do with having the life force of another witch, I wonder? It doesn't matter- after years of having to cover up my magic, I performed an amazing feat. My mother would be proud of me; I could not have done this without her.
* * *
The others are here to greet us. They all seem elated, though Iris seems less so.
"Welcome back, you two."
There's a cool breeze wafting through the window, and I can smell the grass outside. We're truly back in the world of the living- and so is Reynold. I leave my hand on his chest, comforted by the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
"We did it, my love. You're whole again."
I notice tears in his eyes. "You did all of this for me..."
"I love you; of course I would."
His cheek is soft and warm against my head. He's so precious, and I came within a hair's breadth of losing him for good. Soon enough, he'd have his magic back. He'd have the wolf back. He'd be truly happy again.
"You both realise we're still in the room, don't you? I'll go and tell Róisín you're okay."
"Shush, Jemima! It's only a kiss," I reply, laughing. Iris's gaze is still serious. Perhaps I shouldn't expect the same joy of myself or the others out of her. After all, Reynold has been freed from circumstances no-one can free her from. It wasn't a curse; my magic could do nothing for her.
I help Reynold to his feet when the thunder of footsteps grows louder and lounder. My daughter bursts through the doors, waving her hands with excitement.
"Father! You're okay! I'm so happy!"
She charges up to him, almost knocking him to his feet, and throws her arms around him. "I'm so glad you're okay! I was worried something bad might happen to you!"
"Don't worry, Róisín. My magic will come back now. And when it does, we'll practice. I'll tell you everything you need to know, okay?"
"I can't wait!"
"I hope you know how much you mean to me, Róisín. You're a brave, beautiful little girl and you mean everything to me and your mother. It was both you and her that saved my life. I would have lost hope without you two."
Róisín turns to me, and her little face beams. "You're right! Mother is a hero. She helps protect the witches and she's protected me so many times too! And she learned a really really difficult spell too. She's a magic expert! Aren't you, mother?"
"I don't know about expert, sweetheart, but I'm glad you think so at least."
* * *
I figure some fresh air will help Reynold clear his head. Not only that, but it's a clear evening, and with any luck, the Moon will be out tonight. I take him to the most beautiful spot in Glimmerbrook. It's a spot by the waterfall, marked with an old stone floor with the three symbols of magic on it - the Cat, the Wolf and the Dragon. Part of me wonders what it might have been for- group rituals, possibly. The soft sound of the waterfall is grounding and refreshing. We get here just in time to see the last sliver of sunset for the day.
"Everything is so...beautiful," he mutters. "I can feel my emotions coming back to me, my connection to everything. It's a little overpowering, but I truly feel alive again after so long in between worlds. That said, I can't help but pity the ghosts, even the night wraiths.
They all died in such horrible ways, and they didn't have a loving family like I have, or a way out. They were trying to comfort me as I was dying. Their sense of betrayal is completely understandable, but as I said to them, the living are more important to me right now- especially my family."
"Reynold, when I put my hand through your chest and pulled out the night wraith's curse, it didn't hurt, did it?"
He stalls for a moment. "I don't think it did. If I scared you, Áine, I'm truly sorry. I thought you were another ghost disguising themselves as you. It was just as you did that, I realise you were - well, you. "
"You don't need to apologise, Reynold. I'm just glad you're here with me."
The dark is beginning to settle in now- in a good way, for once. The low hoot of an owl echoes from the distance.
"As am I," he replies, in a quiet voice. "I've been thinking. Now that has been solved, do you think Tsuna-"
"Tsuna?"
"I mean, Iris- do you think she'll allow me to stay with you all? I might have to isolate myself on full moon nights, but I think this is a good place for Róisín. She seems friendly with the other children here."
"I don't see why not. Anyhow, look behind you- it looks like someone has come to welcome you back."
Already, I can see the rising vigour within him, and a grin appears upon his face. "I can feel it- oh, I can feel it again!"
He turns to gawk at the moon, in all Her beauty.
"I believe I owe a few words to Lunvin. Give me a moment."
He kneels down on the ground and closes his eyes, holding out his hands.
"Lunvin...I owe you my utmost gratitude. I also owe you an apology. You did not abandon me- you never did. This was the doing of nature itself, not you. Your teachings were a major part of how I pulled through everything, and I believe I will come out of it a stronger person because of you. I promise - if you accept my apology and are willing to take me back as one of your children-"
"I think She already has, Reynold. Look at your hands."
He opens his eyes and gasps at the bright magic enveloping his palms.
"She has...She has taken me back! I didn't let Her down!" he cries, his eyes beginning to take on the old blue glow I remember from Lake Lunvik, reflecting off of tears of joy.
"Of course you didn't. She admires you, just as I do. Can I ask...what were you going to promise Her?"
His eyes trace a tree branch floating down towards the waterfall. "I was going to promise Her that I would devote myself entirely to her. I believe my devotion to the Watcher is at its end, my love," he explains. "I love the Peterans, and I love the Watcher- but Lunvin only has myself and Alistair left, at least in this corner of the world. It only seems fair that I keep my focus entirely on Lunvin from now on. Besides, my sister has come to enjoy her reversion to Peterism, and you know how ambitious she is. I'm sure she'd appreciate a chance to become a leader again, especially of people who will respect her more than the Jacobans ever did."
Clementia is a strong woman. I'm sure she would jump at the chance to become abbess, and I'm sure she'd jump even higher at a chance to possibly get back at Shepherd Juniper as well.
"I'm sorry, Áine- all of these powerful emotions are difficult after almost a year and a half of feeling almost nothing at all. The peacefulness, not having the ghosts around, having Lunvin and my magic back- I feel strangely whole again. When I was in between worlds I felt like the least unfortunate being in the universe sometimes. It made me forget what I have. Iris was right- permanence is a special kind of misery.
Now, back in the realm of mortals- I realise once again that I'm the luckiest man alive."
"You'll get used to them soon enough, Reynold-"
His desperate expression changes into something entirely different- ravenous, almost. I know exactly how he feels, only his feelings are emphasised tenfold by the moonlight.
"Now now, it isn't Beltane for another month yet," I say to him. "Would a kiss and a cuddle suffice?"
Reynold chuckles to himself before grabbing me into a rigorous kiss, and our tongues are almost immediately in each other's mouths. I want nothing more than for Reynold to stay here. We've spent so much of our lives together separated from one another that I hope that this can be our next chance at properly raising a family together in a more permanent place. Róisín has made plenty of friends here and she loves the area and its arcane history.
We lay down on the cold rock and watch the Moon together. I lie in Reynold's comforting embrace.
"Remember when we lay together like this on Beltane night? Just basking in the moonlight after? It was so wonderful."
"Indeed, it was. Just think- we're further away from the witchfinders now, in a place where the veil of magic is thicker as well. All the more reason to repeat it sometime, don't you think?"