CONTENT WARNING: murder, blood, discussion of murder... There's only one or two with pictured blood, I made sure the pictures were less bloody than the actual text.
Clementia
The jeering of the crowd grows louder. It fills me with a sickly rage to see and hear the way that the townspeople almost treat this like a sport, chanting against the 'witch' and suggesting ways to kill her, telling her that the Watcher will give her an eternity of torment for what she's done - as if High Priest Thorne is any better.
Even with all Juniper has done, she shouldn't have to pay with her life. Lord Volpe and High Priest Thorne are still alive after all they've done. Why doesn't she deserve the same when she's done nothing close to what they've done? Many of the Jacobans stand there and say nothing - all except Alice, who is standing her ground. She seems to be the only Jacoban visibly furious.
I notice her trying to withhold her shuddering. I remember her admission of being a witch to me. This could have easily been her at the sword. She's screaming at them to stop.
I don't want anything to happen to Alice. I think back to how easily I killed that witchfinder, and I fight every thought I have of how easily I could do it again with Thorne or Volpe. I can't risk becoming like them.
I take a deep breath in and prepare to stand up to them.
"You know as well as I do that the Watcher would not allow this under either of our beliefs, Thorne."
High Priest Thorne halts his prayer, and the chanting and jeering fades into mutterings and cackling.
"Clementia, please, let me die. I deserve it for all I-"
"Quiet, Juniper! And you, Clementia - what reason does a Peteran abbess have to defend a Jacoban? This wretched woman tried to have you killed!"
"And yet you are falsely claiming that Juniper is a witch because she stands in your way. How are you any less guilty? Why isn't it your throat at Jacob's sword instead?"
Loud gasps fill the silence.
"Clementia, please - let me pay the price for what I've done to you - to every-"
High Priest Thorne holds her jaw shut. I see her eyes glitter with tears that roll down her face.
"You don't have to pay with your life, Juniper. You know as well as everyone here that you're not a witch. No sane Jacoban would hire a witch to hold such a renowned position within the cathedral. Yes, you've made some horrific mistakes, but Thorne and Volpe's sins far outweigh your own."
The crowd gasps again, and a shiver crawls up my spine. I feel like I've swung a sword at a hornet's nest, but I have to say something. Whether or not Juniper would have done it for me, it doesn't matter. As far as I'm concerned, she has a chance to put right what she did wrong.
"Miss Clementia, as a former Jacoban, you know how this works, don't you?" Thorne asks, in a sibilant tone. "She must die by Jacob's Sword to absolve her soul before her judgment."
"Interesting how the 'judgement' of the Watcher only applies to the people you consider enemies to your cause. I suppose the men just get to do whatever they like?"
Thorne narrows his eyes at me. He's just realised what he'll lose. With myself and Juniper gone, there's every chance he'll lose the female shepherds - and, in turn, revenue.
"If you are a true Jacoban High Priest, then you'll know the Watcher will condemn you to a terrible afterlife for what you're about to-"
The blade slices her throat.
Juniper's eyes don't leave mine
A sickening croak erupts from her lips, and blood spurts from her mouth and from the cut, almost spraying Alice and myself.
Whatever her feelings were in the final seconds of her life - betrayal, appreciation, understanding - I will never know. I will never know if she understood that I was trying to save her, or if she died thinking my interruption led to her death.
Thorne gives Jacob's sword his blessing. The crowd's cheers are far less quiet this time around, but the Jacobans remain silent, frozen in fear of what is to come. Alice and I are trying to withhold our emotions. Inside, I want to tear myself apart.
Juniper and I could have worked together to deal with all this. We could have healed the once-again frayed relationships between Peterism, Jacobism, and everything else. We could have done something - anything. I tried to deal with it the way a Peteran would, and all that led to was Juniper's death.
Volpe peers over Juniper's dead body, then turns to the crowd with twisted pride.
"Let this be a warning to any Jacoban - or anyone here, for that matter - that if you are trying to live discreetly as a witch, we will find you, and we will deal with you accordingly. Those of you who have criticised High Priest Thorne and his late father for not allowing too many women to be in charge at the Finchwick cathedral - I hope today's events have reminded of you of just why that is. Women of magic try to get into these positions so that they can manipulate people with their-"
Volpe stops talking and looks up, a bitter look across his face.
I look behind and the crowd are parting to let a sickly-looking man through, some with faces of disgust and others with faces of fear...only they seem more afraid of him than they do of Volpe and Thorne put together.
When the subtle moonlight reveals his figure, now I see why everyone is reacting in such a way.
Owen makes his way slowly through the grass, looking almost crow-like in his dark velvety attire, his eyes completely fixed upon Volpe. His expression is completely devoid of emotion, but I have no reason to be afraid of someone who has been helping us out monetarily for years.
I can't say I expected him to come out here. I assumed he'd just stick to donations and his work and avoid the thick of the conflict...Surely getting caught up in all of this mess is a threat to his business and his legacy. What would someone like Owen value more than either of those two things?
He gazes down at the body for a moment, and looks to Volpe again, still without a shred of emotion. Thorne goes to tell him to back off, and Volpe puts his arm out towards him. Thorne stands to one side, Jacob's sword held firmly in front of him.
"You have to admire the gall of a man so desperate to prove himself as a witchfinder and a saviour...that he would go out of his way to murder the one woman in Henford who almost everyone knows could never be a witch."
There's a slight cockiness in his voice, and I can already see Volpe furrow his eyebrows at him.
This is quite the surprise to most of the crowd. In fact, I'd always thought there was some level of tolerance between the two of them. I don't know a lot about Owen, only that his relationship with religion was strained - to be expected from a man of science. Jacobans historically prevented physicians from using the dead to learn about how the body worked - something that peeved many physicians in both the historical and modern world.
"She admitted to it, Owen."
"Most would under a certain level of pressure - witch or otherwise."
His voice remains entirely calm, with an underlying sliver of mockery. In a sense, I'm glad he's here. I don't have it in me to any more talking... I don't want anyone else to lose their life because of me.
"Have you forgotten how the Jacobans hindered the advancements of your own field?"
"No, but even if this woman was responsible for something that occurred one hundred years ago, I would not wish death upon her for it."
I have no idea how he maintains the air of level-headedness around Lord Volpe. I suppose an Annorin can afford to be fearless.
"I'd like to think that a good number of people here are not so cruel as Eduardo is. I'd like to think that a lot of you are either misled, lacking the facts, or simply too afraid to speak up in front of the High Priest. Fortunately for all of you, I am not afraid of either of them."
As he moves closer to Volpe, he remains focused on Juniper's dead body, and now I can see the disgust settling on his expression. I watch the air of neutrality fade from his features as he stares Volpe down, and even Volpe steps back a bit.
Owen
He wasn't expecting this at all. He takes a step back as I approach him, putting on a display of aggression. There's no image quite so satisfying as the Tartosan Fox with his tail between his legs.
Mother Clementia was incredibly brave to speak up the way she did. As for Juniper, well - all it took for a person of influence to die by the sword was an accusation, nothing more. No amount of pleasing the High Priest was good enough for him. I dread to think it, but it wouldn't have been good enough for anyone.
"Leave my children out of this. Don't forget - You have good reason to be afraid of me, Owen," he says, with a sly tone. "If I were you, I would not act so bold."
I notice the gaze of the crowds upon me. Their mutterings cut through the dead silence. I can feel my heartbeat pick up tenfold, but it has to be done. I cannot stand around and let his happen any longer. For the sake of my family and the rest of Henford, I have to say something.
"What reason do I have to be afraid of you? You've spent half your life
slaughtering innocent people, using your dead children as an excuse!"
Thorne lowers his sword as if about to strike.
"Don't you dare bring my children into this!"
"How do you think they would feel knowing their father killed hundreds of women and left them without parents?!"
Volpe falls silent.
"This has nothing to do with protecting people! The only people who should have had to pay the price for the murder of your family was the perpetrators - nobody else!"
"And if I let the scourge of magic continue, Owen, what would happen then? Other families would be lost to them!"
"As if this has anything to do with other people. You and I both know that this is all to satisfy a revenge fantasy. You can't stop now, because if you did, every remaining witch in Henford would set you alight the way you set their families alight."
The fury in Volpe's eyes is like nothing I've ever seen before, not even back during that argument - but it's still nothing close to intimidating.
"I'm just about done with you," he spits. "Owen Annorin, would you like to reveal to everyone why you are tonight? Or shall I reveal it for you?"
I expect to feel a deep sense of apprehension, but instead, I feel a burst of excitement.
"That's quite alright, Eduardo..."
"I believe it'd be far more interesting if I revealed it myself."
The only person whose eyes aren't bulging is the black-haired Jacoban shepherdess next to Mother Clementia. Everyone else is completely taken aback, hands to open mouths, exasperated cries.
I wasn't going to let Volpe reveal my secret. By revealing it myself, I have shown them that I am not afraid of them - that absolutely anyone, even someone so well-known, could have magic. Volpe grits his teeth at me. He's been waiting for so long to reveal the truth about the Annorin family, and now the power is in my hands instead of his- as it always has been.
The Jacoban shepherdess is trying to stifle a smile. Perhaps she also has magic?
"Perhaps the visitors here tonight would also be interested to know that you knew about this for years and yet you let it slide? Did you think I was going to be like my father and cower at your threats to reveal the truth?"
There isn't a way out of this situation for him. Everyone is going to question why Lord Volpe abhors magic and yet let us get away with it. People are going to question the integrity of a physician with arcane abilities, of course, but they're also going to question the figurehead of the witch-hunts who kept up a friendship with magic-folk.
"Those of you who are surprised at this revelation, don't be. From the days of the ancient past right up until the modern day, medicine and witchcraft have worked hand in hand. Herbalists, alchemists, folk healers - many of them had magic in their blood and used magic in their treatments.
Whether they healed the mind, body or spirit, many would be dead without witches, and that is precisely what will happen to all of you if you keep supporting their slaughter - you will die. If you absolutely need a reason for magic-folk to be worthy enough of life, then know they are all that is keeping you alive.
My own magic has advanced medicine beyond what science is capable of. Because of people like you, I could not share that knowledge with anyone. Without me, and without my ancestors, you will all die. There is no future for any of you without us. That is not a threat, but a warning."
I can almost feel the countless years of rage spilling out of me, and the rage of my ancestors with it. I've been wanting to say it for so many years. They're gobsmacked, every single one of them, and so they should be.
"Now that Eduardo and everyone here knows of my little secret, I am sure that either he or Thorne would kill me where I stand in the name of protecting the people..."
"...Won't you, Eduardo?"
His expression is priceless, as is the crowd's. Did Katlego's exile all those years ago not teach anyone a thing? Without her, many more people became ill around this area. If both Katlego and myself were not here, this place would be rife with sickness. What amount of usefulness does a witch need to have to be granted the right to their life?
Volpe can't do it. Of course he can't. He's always been afraid of this family. Now all of his witchfinders can see him for the thin-skinned little man that he is.
"For tonight, Owen, I will allow you to leave with your life intact. I just hope you're aware that you will lose every comfort you've ever had to this admission - your occupation, your business, your reputation - it will all be stripped from you."
The man is as clueless as he looks. He and Thorne leave the park, and the crowd soon dissipate, throwing surprised and disgusted looks my way.
Mother Clementia rushes to Juniper's body, cradling her in her arms and offering a prayer, both Peteran and Jacoban. The others sink to their needs in prayer with her, but she's furious.
"The only one of you who should be praying is Alice! The rest of you said nothing and did nothing! She led you and you betrayed her! Go! Leave us in peace!"
Tears roll down her cheeks, and her glassy eyes shine in the moonlight.
"Not you, Dr. Annorin. I'd like you to stay, if that's alright."
Clementia
Alice and I have our own little funeral for Juniper. Much like Julian, her funeral was quiet. I don't care if the other Jacobans wanted to mourn her. They did nothing, they said nothing.
Then again, I said something, and it changed nothing. Had I have said something different...
"Mother Clementia, is there anything at all I can do for you?"
Dr. Annorin's voice is somewhat soothing. I still can't believe what he did, nor can I believe he's a spellcaster. No wonder he and Reynold became such good friends.
I'm sick with anger that he got what he wanted and I didn't, but I suppose I ought to be thankful that he gave his voice knowing someone else's might not have changed anything. He sits next to me on the pew, struggling a bit. I wonder what's ailing him?
"Yes. You seem to know how to say the right things. What did I say that was wrong? What did I do that got Juniper killed?!"
The guilt is unbearable. Its claws are trying to tear at me from the inside out.
"It wasn't your fault, Mother Clementia. What you did was particularly brave. There aren't many who would stand up to Volpe like that. You and Alice stood for what's right. And to do such a thing to someone who was not particularly kind to either of you...that takes a level of strength most do not have. If that were Volpe at Jacob's Sword, I'd have done nothing about it."
"You were both incredibly brave out there," Alice adds. She's such a kind heart. I'm so thankful to have her as a Peteran sister from now on. Who knows what will happen to Jacobism from now on...
"Clementia, you risked your life and another accusation of witchcraft to try and defend someone who deeply wronged you. You did it without having to draw a sword or take a life."
"Owen, even with your societal stature, you used your power and your voice to get a point across in a way that people had no choice but to listen to. You've risked your entire reputation for this. If anything, I don't know how you're so calm about it."
Owen adjusts himself slightly before he replies to Alice. "I have a plan for every outcome, Alice. Besides, most people are terrified of me. I may as well use that reputation for something beneficial."
I have so many questions for him, and yet my mind is too clouded to conjure many of them up. This is going to tear me to pieces for weeks, but I have to get on with it - who knows what kind of outcome tonight's events will have.
"Dr. Annorin-"
"Please, Owen is fine."
"- I have a feeling that what we did tonight is going to cause nothing short of chaos. There's no knowing what Volpe will try and do, and there's no knowing who will run the Jacoban cathedral."
"What about the Proxy?" he asks. "Surely they would have Thorne removed knowing he killed one of his own."
"Thorne will have done enough damage by the time any note of this gets to Yacothia."
"I see."
Behind that flat expression, there's something genuine lingering just underneath. He seemed friendly enough when making donations, but I never thought he'd ever put himself on the line like this - especially not if he's unwell.
"Aren't you worried about your family? About your business? I doubt they'll let you practice as a physician anymore once word gets out about your magic."
Owen lowers his head, staring into the cobbled floor. I notice his hands quiver.
"What will be will be, Mother Clementia," he replies, rubbing his hands together."We'll find a way."
He clutches at his cane and Alice and I help him to his feet, and he leaves us both to our prayers.