CONTENT WARNINGS: Burning of a witch, and an image of the charred corpse (no blood, it's dried-looking and skeletal).
Also a mild sexual euphemism joke, and sexual intercourse (as usual, vaguely described, and you only see the characters kiss and sleep next to one another with nothing NSFW pictured.)
A few months later
In the woods...
"Now, Miss Meadows...after all of this proof has come to light, do you admit to being guilty of witchcraft?"
"Yes! I did it! It was me! I'm a witch! But I was only using my powers to help-"
"Help? Help who? Since when has witchcraft helped anyone!"
"That's it! She admitted it! Burn her!"
"Now, now, everyone. Miss Meadows, as you have admitted your guilt, for the safety of all the regular folk of Henford, you will have to be executed by fire."
"Lord Volpe, if I may interrupt?"
"The woman has admitted her guilt, Juniper. What more is there to add? We must execute her at once!"
"Indeed, we must- but she confessed to me first. The Watcher has overseen her absolution, and she can only be absolved in blood. I must execute her with Jacob's Sword. It will be much quicker and more...efficient."
"Surely the burning of a witch destroys the very essence of one. What good is a corrupted soul in the hands of the Watcher?"
"A soul destroyed by fire is destroyed- it...can never reach the Watcher. If I slit her throat, then her soul remains intact, to be judged by the Watcher upon reaching Them...What sounds better to you, Lord Volpe? Wouldn't you rather...a witch be punished for eternity?"
"Well..."
"Good people watching...How should be punish this witch?"
"Burn her! Burn her!"
"But - High Priest Briar! It isn't Jacoban to-"
"Be quiet, Alice. Lord Volpe, let her burn."
"Lord Volpe-"
"Very well. Men- light the fires, and burn this witch. And if you do reach the Watcher, may They have little mercy upon you."
"And there we have it. One more witch defeated. Thank you, everyone, for watching. I can only hope Henford now feels more of a safer place already for you all, and for all of your children."
Juniper
Whilst it is one of the rare soft rules of Jacobism, it is widely considered that the only righteous way to die as one who has wronged the Watcher severely enough to require such a punishment is to die by the blade. If not Jacob's Sword, any blade will do, but ideally, it must be done with Jacob's Sword, or at least one with a High Shepherd's blessing.
Death by a blade is fairly quick as well as comparatively humane. It allows the soul to reach the Watcher intact, and be judged accordingly. Volpe's obsession with drowning witches grew into an obsession with burning them, something the witchfinders of San Myshuno are keen on. Drowning is slow and unecessarily uncomfortable, and burning, in my eyes, destroys the soul, which belongs to the Watcher. To burn a witch is to take their soul from its great and rightful owner, and Lord Volpe does not realise how much it sickens me. I do not believe he particularly cares.
This charred husk could be anyone. Some moments ago, it was an individual, clearly defined, now reduced to charred flesh. the Watcher made her in Their image, and this heinous method of causing her death has ruined The Watcher's wondrous design.
I've never felt this kind of horror- not for anyone, especially not a witch. Whenever I have been in charge of killing a witch, I've always cut their throat with Jacob's Sword. Despite my disgust with them and their dangerous ways, I cannot let my own emotions guide me when I am a conduit for the Watcher's will. When it comes to matters of others' lives or deaths, at least- it is Their job to judge, and it is Their judgment I must follow, not my own.
I try to offer a prayer to The Watcher, in the hopes that her soul will be guided to them for proper judgment. I find myself reflecting upon all the lost, burned and drowned souls that will never be properly tried for their crimes against the people of Henford...and my likely hand in such things. Volpe and I have been working together to eradicate the problem of witchcraft for some time. I have tried to set aside my disgust for his method of killing them, but I do not know if I can do so much longer...but how do you convince a man like him to do what is humane?
I gave Clementia the dagger to protect herself before I sent the witchfinders after her. I never bound a witch before I or a Justicer killed her, so that she may have had a slim chance to get away.
I would never dream of destroying the body of anyone, no matter how much I distrusted or despised them. Lord Volpe does not care for such things. He only cares to do them his way, or no-one's way- but it is too late to separate myself from him and his actions.
If I disobey him, perhaps even I will be a witch in his eyes.
Daniel
Edwin has been settling in well with us. He's been a great help with fishing, and the people at the weekend markets find him endearing. He's also made up with Kat, and picks up Father's herbal medicine for him. Father wants to ask him if he wants to become a part of our family for real instead of just living under our roof. I'm surprised Edwin isn't tired of eating fish yet. I think he's finally gotten used to the stench of them, though.
"So, you're going to see Eli again, are you?" Edwin eats his dinner like a starved dog, and Josiah grimaces at the sounds of chewed food. "So when are you going to ask him to be your boyfriend again, then?"
"I don't think that's any of your business, is it?" I chuckle.
"Of course it's my business! I didn't even know men could have boyfriends until I met you. You can't blame me for being interested in your personal life, can you?"
The reality is that I've been considering it for a while. Eli and I gradually have become friends again, but I can't help but notice a sort of sadness behind his eyes even when we're just spending time together- a sort of longing for what we used to have. If anything, I'd found myself feeling the same way.
"What about you, Josiah? Do you have a girlfriend yet?"
Josiah is coming around slowly to him. For someone whose career entails speaking to strangers, sometimes about tough subjects - the thought of there being someone else in the house who he might have to say 'hello' to sometimes is a lot to get used to for him.
"I don't, no."
"That would involve him having to make small talk with a woman, Edwin."
Josiah deeply sighs at me. "The reason being, Edwin, that you can't rush these things. I'm focusing on my work and my studies more than anything else right now."
"I hear you work for Dr. Annorin. I feel sorry for you. He scares me."
"You know...He isn't entirely as bad as people make out, I think."
"Edwin, since you've been with us...You haven't really done anything to change your appearance, have you?"
Josiah makes a good point. He looks a lot healthier now, but he still looks just like the boy who was employed by Volpe. Who knew if he'd be on the lookout for him?
"Oh, yeah. I'll be honest, I've been enjoying myself here too much to think about Volpe, but maybe you're right. Thank you, Josiah. And thank you, Dan - for everything."
* * *
Eli
When Dan pays a visit, I find myself returning to the man I was four or five years ago- and I don't know if that's a good thing or not.
"Oh? You're working with gemstone now? Well, they're certainly interestingly-shaped. I'm guessing you've had some very private commissions?"
"No, nothing like that! I bought them from Katlego just outside of Finchwick. I feel like trying to work with different material, and what's more beautiful than gemstone?"
The reality is that I'm trying to think of a way to help my brother. I remember when I'd asked Áine about witches, and I asked why she never used a wand, like they always do in the drawings and paintings. She recalled her mother telling her that she never understood the shame around them. Despite now only really being used in specific rituals, wands used to be a lot more common. Nowadays, they are associated with a lack of confidence or ability. They were used by younger beginner witches, with the intent of a more precise and concentrated stream of magic than what could be cast with their hands.
The way I'm thinking is that a more precise and concentrated stream of magic might help to ease the physical strain of magic. If it was used by beginners to help them steady themselves, then who's to say it can't be used as a sort of assistive measure? I mean, maybe wood would suffice; it's natural, after all...but I know Owen isn't going to settle for anything that isn't fancy enough.
"That reminds me- how is your brother doing, Eli?"
Every time I think about it, I can't help but think of the worst.
"I don't really know, if I'm honest...I don't hear from him much at the moment. He's either too busy to visit or too unwell. It's a shame, because...I'd like to make the most of whatever time I have left with him, and I don't know how."
"Hey, Eli, don't think like that. I'm sure one of the best physicians this side of the world can figure something out."
I feel a coldness in my stomach. Maybe now is the time to be honest about my feelings, and hope that this time, I'm not shunned for them.
"It's not just that, Dan. When I think of Oskar and Owen, I'm reminded of how short life really is when you think about it, you know?"
"Eli, you're twenty-six. You're not that old."
"I know, but anything can happen at any time, so I have to tell you."
"Tell me? Tell me what?"
I take a deep breath in and try to mellow my nerves.
"I've been missing what we used to have, Dan. I used to always feel better after you comforted me. I've missed not having you around when things have been rough...I missed your friendship as well as your love."
The silence, on the other hand, isn't quite so comforting. I hear a loud, strained breath, like he's holding back his words for a moment.
"That's okay, Eli. So have I. I missed having you around in that way as well."
The cold sensation inside of me starts to settle. I'm glad that it isn't just me.
It's been difficult trying to do things mostly by myself. I keep thinking I'm capable of doing everything alone, but I can't. It's rough without my father, my sister, and my brother.
A sliver of excitement strikes me as Dan wraps his arm around my chest. His breath is warm and soothing against my neck. I feel like I'm transported back to when we were still together, back when Oskar was still alive, when my sister was still here, when my brother wasn't sick. For a little, while he's like this, I try not to think about any of those things and only focus on him.
"I know it doesn't feel this way right now, Eli, but things will get better. I know they will."
"I believe it- but only because you're here, and only because it's you who's saying it."
My voice comes out all whispery and embarassing, but he doesn't seem to mind. The more he leans into me, the more I find myself missing him in his entirety- and everything we used to do together.
"You look so different now," I tell him. "With the beard and the longer hair, and you look a lot stronger as well- from all of the helping your father, I assume."
Dan chuckles to himself shyly. "Well, I'd say you still mostly look the same, but..." He runs his hands slowly across my arms and shoulders, gently squeezing them. "From all the woodwork, I assume," he adds, mimicking my accent.
He quickly turns me around, moving his hands down to my sides and leaning in a little. We say nothing for a while, just staring at each other and making the most of the moment. There's something about his dark brown eyes that soothes me every time I look into them.
"You're breathing a little, heavy, Eli. You don't need to be anxious."
I stutter a bit before mustering up a response. "Anxious? Oh no, I'm not. Just-"
Dan laughs again, moving back a little before I pull him back in. "Flustered, then?"
Without thinking, I kiss him suddenly. I let go and give him the most apologetic stare that I can manage, but he just smiles at me and returns the favour.
There's a comfort I have within Dan's presence that's almost impossible to describe. All of my anxieties disappear, and I don't want him to let go of me. There's a fieryness in my chest that only intensifies the longer it goes on for. I don't notice how tightly I'm gripping his shoulders until he mentions it playfully.
"I need to admit something else, I think. I don't know how to say it, but- I missed your partnership, but I also missed our...intimacy."
Dan gives me a loving gaze, then returns to his usual cheeky self and raises an eyebrow at me. "Well, I'm here now, aren't I?"
* * *
The lit candle casts him in a muted, delicate light. I find myself gazing all over at his musculature defined by the candlelight, all the beauty of an ancient carved statue. He tilts his head a little and his locs fall elegantly over his shoulder as a subtle smile rises on his lips.
Dan was right in that things would get better. They already have. Last time, I was battered with conflicting feelings upon what my father would think about all this. Now, I don't feel inhibited by anything. I don't have his disapproval looming over me anymore. I haven't done for years.
Despite everything, I have the sort of life most people dream of - a life free of negative judgments, free of people who seek to tear me down at any opportunity.
I can't think of anything else right now, my mind and body completely within the moment- the absolute height of lingering pleasure, gradually followed by weightless calm. I sink into Dan's light embrace and lay my head against his chest, soothed by the beating of his heart and the scent of perfume.
I find myself lapsing in and out of sleep, telling him that I should get back to my project until Dan runs his fingers slowly through my hair, telling me it can wait another day.
Clementia
I'm done trying to talk sense into her politely.
"Juniper!"
"Again?!"
She gives me her usual look of disgust. I don't believe she has any other expressions.
"Don't look at me like that! The only person you should be disgusted with is yourself! Another witch, dead, whilst you stood and watched!"
"When are you going to realise the only thing standing between you and witch-hood is falling ever-so-slightly out of line? When are you going to realise that you mean nothing to Eduardo Volpe?!"
"Clementia-"
"Do you think High Priest Briar genuinely thinks that you're fit to be the Eye of Jacob? The only man who cared about women in this entire insitution is lying dead in a Peteran graveyard!"
"How many more times, Clementia? None of this is about men or women."
"Except it is. You got me kicked out because I was standing in your way, only to suck up to the men that were the real reason you weren't where you wanted to be."
Juniper wielded Jacob's Sword with such pride, a threat to those who dared to defy her version of Jacobism. I didn't need the Angel's Talon to deal with her- the right words cut deeper than any sword can. She wants to lose her temper, but she can't. She knows I'm right.
"And why do you care about any of this? Why do you care about anything I've tried to do?"
"I don't," I retort, lowering her finger away from my face. "I don't care how you feel, and I don't care what's happened to you. I care about the people of Henford and the women who are going to die because you're too weak-willed to stand up to Lord Volpe.
I don't care that you think I might be a werewolf. I haven't forgotten that you tried to have me killed, and that your idea of mercy was giving me a meager dagger to defend myself with. I'm not going to lower myself to your level. So I'm going to make you an offer- if you do the work to detach yourself entirely from the witch-hunts, then I will try and help you if and when the High Priest or Volpe try to retaliate."
Juniper chokes on her words. "And how do you suppose you're going to help if that happens?"
"Oh, there you are, Clementia. I was worried. You seemed distressed."
I recognise that voice...
"I do hope everything is alright."
She says it in such a sly voice. Juniper gulps. I'm sure she's at least heard a thing or two about Violeta.
"Is there any trouble, my dear?" she says to me, in a strangely-sweet voice.
"There's no trouble." Juniper speaks before I have the chance. "This is between us."
Violeta cackles at Juniper's response. "Ah, I know you. Shepherdess Juniper, a woman in power, and yet entirely at the mercy of men. A lapdog dressed like the lead female of a wolf pack."
A fire lights in Juniper's eyes, but Violeta pays no attention, sauntering towards her without a care in the world.
"You know nothing of what I went through to get to this position."
"I do. You had Clementia and Shepherd Julian removed from their places so you could take them, and all at the demands of a man who would have you hunted for sport if you so much looked at him the wrong way."
Juniper looks as if she's about to throw something at Violeta. She moves to raise her voice, then realises who she's speaking to.
"You don't think I had to fight my way through the ranks of this cathedral the way Clementia did? The way it was back then was far worse for me than it is for any woman today!"
"Don't talk to an old crone about how hard it used to be, Juniper." She plays with the ends of her hair, taunting her. Juniper eyes her with some vague suspicion- Violeta doesn't look that old, does she?
"In fact, why don't you sit down and I'll tell you how much harder it was...how far back should we go, Juniper? One-hundred years? Two-hundred?"