Divided: Act 5:22 - Survival Instinct

CONTENT WARNINGS:  one sexual euphemistic mention, some discussion of conflict

Valravn

A sense of unease washes over me. It is not Owen's - it is my own. No, I have read nothing from his mind - not a sliver of emotion. He is alive, but unresponsive.

Gryphons are often said to have a human-comparable level of intelligence. The trouble with having human intelligence is that you also have a fairly good chance of eventually developing human flaws.

An animal's natural instincts are a survival tool. Over a millenium surrounded by humans, I have come to realise human emotions appear to be nothing but a hindrance to them most of the time. They had names for everything I considered survival instincts, only theirs seemed detrimental to their own survival.

Humans are as determined to live as they are to die. They are desperate for survival, and yet they will cling on to anything even if it lowers their chances drastically. The only comparable arrogance to that of humans is that of the long-dead dragons.

The rich yet fragile lives of the humans often leave me reflecting upon my own life, both free and confined to the orb. I thought nothing of fleeing the nest upon my maturity. I hunted fish by a local river. I fought off hungry dragons to the best of my ability. Confined to the orb, I was forced to kill. I was told they were a threat, and my instincts took over. Some of my masters were cruel to me, others to their families. I slew some of my old masters to protect myself; they did not realise that animal instinct does not distinguish between perceived good and perceived evil, but safety and threat. The agony of losing a bonded human does not compare to the years of control.

After some time, the emotions I sensed from humans started to make sense. I understood them. I could understand their pain. I learned how to empathise - how to try and help them. At first, I did it to prevent the psychic barrage of horrible thoughts from my own mind, but eventually, I realised I could help soothe my masters, which worked for everyone.

Owen, and Jonah who came before him, they were unlike anyone else I had ever worked for. Jonah had asked for my assistance during the Bloodmoon, but he had told me of what the witchfinders did to his people as well as others. He did not lead me into battle against faceless foes. He treated me like a friend, and so until my 'death', I returned the favour.

I've sat and I've waited for anything - a twitch, a sliver of feeling in my mind. I had come to bond with Owen personally as well as just magically. Despite the way he carries himself, his emotions are overpowering - love, joy, fury, pride, euphoria. On the outside, he is a man who keeps himself as orderly and tightly-wound as the finest clockwork. On the inside, he is a fireworks display of the messy human experience.

There's a sense of...What could that be. It is difficult to summarise - a foggy kind of pride, diluted rage, and...

He mutters something. At first, his wife's name, and then my own. Then a sense of...

regret?

One of my favourite human emotions is joy. I currently find myself feeling something close, something I never felt before getting to know humans. It is overpowering, all-encompassing. It is perhaps one of the more useful of the emotions. It keeps them grounded in uncertain times.

I notice his fingers twitch, and he groans to himself as he slowly tries to lift himself from the bed. He complains of the heat...in the middle of winter. It takes the little energy he has to sit up, so I use my beak and claws to help remove his coat. I rub my head against his arm to check his temperature, and he feels strangely warm. His movements are stiff as he tries to grunt the pain off. The stress of it all makes me uneasy.

I should get Lydia-

No, Valravn, please. I do not have the energy to communicate verbally at the moment... Let it just be us two for now.

He puts his hand to his forehead. His eyes are horrifically bloodshot, and his hand is trembling.

Why do I feel this way, Valravn?

I do not always understand why humans feel the way they do. Quite often, they elude me - especially Owen. His emotions seem to get lost amongst each other. I can only liken it to what might be a stone sinking into a river - that is the best way I can describe it.

I thought you would have felt relieved.

I do, Valravn, but... 

It's peculiar seeing him like this. Not too long ago, Volpe was dead, and he announced it to the crowd as if he were a deity descending to Earth - now this.

Owen

There's a burning through my body and my mind. It feels as if someone has lit a match in my skull. I can't stop shaking. Every movement is nearly agonising. I do not want to explain anything to Lydia until I have the verbal energy to explain everything properly.

I know Valravn can sense my regret. I do not care for Volpe's death. I did not care to watch him burn until nothing recognisable remained, but something feels...off, somehow. To kill someone directly is such an alien feeling that my brain is barely able to process that it happened at all.

You've spent your entire life trying to prevent death, Owen. It was bound to feel strange to you.

It doesn't make sense, Valravn.

It makes perfect sense, Owen - it isn't in your nature to kill. It wasn't in Jonah's, either - he simply did what needed to be done.

I've never wanted anyone dead in my entire life except for Samuel and Volpe, but I know it won't stop with them. It can't. The witchfinders are going to retaliate one way or another.

Then let me deal with the witchfinders, Owen. It is in my nature to kill, after all.

I understand, Valravn, but I don't want this to become a bloodbath. There's a difference between protection and slaughter, and there's going to be enough on Josiah and the apprentice's shoulders without having to deal with more casualties than there needs to be.

The werewolves, witches and vampires during the Bloodmoon did what they needed to to ensure their own survival. It was a resistance, and I pray this will remain a resistance and not spiral into an all-out war.

Josiah will be fine, Owen. Let me deal with the witchfinders and looking after the mansion.

Valravn means the world to me. I feel terribly for her, the way Samuel left her downstairs as if to try and shut her away forever, but she has been nothing but good to our family.

A warm, trusting feeling washes over me - she returns the sentiment.

Pain begins to flare up again, and I force myself to lie down. I do hope I will not have to spend the entire resistance bedridden, but for now, Valravn is right - I'm no good to anyone like this. I will have to wait until it subsides before I can help anyone.

 * * *

Valravn calls Lydia to the bedroom after a short while. The look she gives me is one of combined gratitude and annoyance. She grabs my shaking hand and strokes my palm with her thumb, cupping my cheek with her other hand.

"I...allow me to explain, Lydia."

I take a deep breath. I owe her the entire truth.

"I couldn't have stopped myself from doing what I did."

I know what she's thinking - that I'm making excuses for myself. It couldn't be further from the truth.

"That was the longest I'd managed to hold a spell successfully, and such a powerful one, as well. I've never experienced anything like it before, it was...euphoric."

I know that I should never perform any spell so powerful again, but a part of me fears that I will find myself chasing that feeling for the rest of my life. Perhaps that is part of why I feel so low despite everything... I fear it may become something of an obsession or an addiction."

"Valravn tried to talk me out of it, Lydia, but I wouldn't have listened. Those emotions were like nothing I'd ever felt before. I wouldn't have stopped for anyone."

Lydia sighs deeply, holding my hand tighter. "I know what you tried to do, darling - but Volpe's death won't solve everything."

"I know that, sweetheart. I knew that the death of Volpe wouldn't solve anything in its entirety, but now, we at least have a starting point."

Lydia's eyes seem to sparkle in the morning light, and her expression relaxes.

"I promise, Lydia, I will do whatever I'm able to once I've recovered."

"I know you will. I'm just glad you're still with me."

She leans in carefully for a kiss. I'm always thankful for Lydia. Without her, and without Valravn, I would most certainly be dead. Had I never discovered Valravn, then...

'Oh, I will never feel as happy as that ever again!' -  Owen, did you forget you had a wife?

...then I would not be mocked all day long.

"Valravn will help defend the mansion if need be, Lydia."

"Good to hear. Thank you, Valravn. Owen, you stay here and rest - we'll figure the rest out once you've recovered. And if I catch you casting any magic, even simple spells, before then - then there won't be any 'euphoria' for you for a week."

"Lydia! Don't say that in front of-"

If you cared about me not having to hear such things, you wouldn't leave my orb on your nightstand, would you?

Lydia leaves the room to make food for the children, and Valravn's cackling is like chalk scraping in my brain.

 

Gideon

I was having a lovely nap in the chair until I heard banging on the door. It's nearly midnight. Who's bothering me at this hour?

All the time it takes to heave myself out of my armchair - all to find three witchfinders stood at my door. What do they want with us?

"What do you think you're doing here this late at night?!"

"Calm yourself. We're not here for anything malicious." I do wonder what attracts women to witchfinding, but I don't question it. I suppose you're less likely to be a target that way.

"Then what are you here for?"

She clears her throat. "We've heard a lot about you, Gideon. Some of the witchfinders remember you in your heyday. Others remember you killing a vampire."

"Former vampire."

"Anyhow, we also believe we owe you something of an apology. It wasn't until shortly before his death that we realised that Volpe was completely clueless."

People still remember me? I don't know if that's a good thing or not.

"Why should I believe you had this sudden change of heart?"

The young woman laughs, putting a finger to her forehead.

"Well, Gideon..."

"Do you honestly think yourself the only witchfinder capable of having a change of heart?"

 * * *

I allow the three of them in and force them to let me keep their swords in a cupboard. I didn't realise Daniel and Edwin were awake. The two are quick to confront the three of them. They seem to recognise Edwin, who refuses to look at them.

"So this is where you've been hiding?"

"Y-Yes. I couldn't kill a witch, so I escaped. Daniel and Gideon took me in."

"Good on you. Never liked the way Volpe gets the young'ins to do his bidding. At least we had the privilege of being employees."

"If I'm to trust you, I need to know everything about what got you to change your mind."

The two men seem to let this woman do all the talking for them. I can't stand that smug, subtle grin she's giving me.

"Volpe tried to prevent us from doing anything about the Annorin family. That was what changed our minds. Henford's most famous face of witchfinding wanted nothing to do with something so scandalous as the Annorins having magic. It made no sense to us. I suppose we never really questioned what we were doing until Volpe tried to stop us from dealing with magic-folk that he personally got along with. We thought we were doing the world a favour, and yet he was happy to excuse his little rich friends."

Daniel balls his fists until Edwin nods sideways at him. He has every reason to be furious, but with Volpe dead, there'll be plenty scrambling to replace him. Anything we can do to prevent questioning witchfinders from going back to that mindset will do some favours. 

 

 

"Part of the reason I quit was because I was sick of answering to the rich," I reply. "With or without magic, they can't be fully trusted- but if people are using magic to benefit society, I see no reason why we shouldn't let them."

 

"We were taught the only good witch is a dead witch, and then suddenly one was exempt from the rule," one of the men explains. "I tried to question him, but he threatened to make me homeless again. I know it shouldn't have taken this to make me see what kind of a person he was, but just like you, many of us were just trying to survive."

 

 

 

"We caught word that you'd helped some people in town earn money in a more agreeable fashion, correct?"

 

"That's correct, yes. I had the help of a few villagers with a large order of fish."

 

"Well, most of us are out of a job, and we're going to need some sort of work. You might not think it, Gideon, but there's plenty of people in the place we're in, and in the place you were in who are going to need to feed their families and themselves. Not only that, but we've heard of your excellent swordsmanship-"

 

"I'm an old man now," I reply. "Do you really think I have it in me to take up the sword again?"

 

"What about your son, then?"

 

"Not a chance!"

 

I wouldn't necessarily take any issue with going after the last of Volpe's witchfinders, but I'm nowhere near as agile as I used to be. It seems better to try and get reliable work for people than risking my life for something that might be ultimately futile. If push comes to shove, I'll have no choice but to fight - but that won't be my first choice. Besides, we've been wondering since we did the fish order for the Annorins if trying to expand our business might be a good idea in the long run.

 

"And do you get these large orders often?"

 

"Not always, but the customer seemed happy. They may always put in more of them."

 

"So how do you feel about possibly hiring some of us?"

 

I have little doubt the Annorins will put in another order that the three of us can't do alone. Ultimately, it seems like a good idea.

 

"I'll allow it - but if I catch any one of you going back to your old ways, then I'll make sure every witch in Henford knows about it. Is that understood?"

 

All three of them nod in unison. "Understood. However, we ought to warn you that not every witchfinder has turned against Volpe. Many will likely try and take matters into their own hands, but we'll keep an eye out for those looking for a genuine fresh start."

 

Áine

The night of celebrations nears its end. Dances, beautiful displays of spellcasting and lovely feasts were how we celebrated the fall of Eduardo Volpe. We set a straw effigy alight and spoke our wishes for our futures to the flames.

 

As we talk amongst each other and get to know our new neighbours better, Xander approaches me, beaming. 

 

"Isn't this wonderful?"

 

"It is - but how did you find this out?"

 

A familiar woman steps in from the nearby house.

 

"This lovely-yet-slightly-terrifying woman went to Tsuna's settlement looking for you, and Tsuna sent her here."

 

"A pleasure, Áine."

 

"You could have joined us for celebrations."

 

"I appreciate the thought, but as you might imagine, I am not one for parties."

 

"You didn't need to tell me that."

 

"Would you like to repeat yourself, Xander?"

 

Xander gulps. "Repeat what?"

 

Violeta tuts at him. It's lucky he's got magic in his blood or she would have had him for supper, no doubt. 

 

"Volpe's murder came as a surprise to many to us. He was killed by Owen Annorin, with the help of - believe it or not - a gryphon. That is what the papers are saying, anyhow."

 

Eli's brother? Isn't he a physician? And gryphons? People tend to use the term metaphorically for the Annorin family, but judging by her tone, Violeta seems to imply a real gryphon was involved. They've been dead for centuries - how is that possible?

 

I'm glad Volpe is gone, but now I worry for Eli. I have no doubt they'll target his brother for this, and I know how he panics about things. I've never met Owen. Despite his stature, I know very little about him outside of hear-say and my little brother. I know the townsfolk and even Eli have their issues with him, but to go as far as this... I suppose it's better than hiding away from it all like Samuel seemed to.

 

"Do you know how Eli is doing?"

 

"I admit, I haven't checked on him. I'll let him know that you're thinking of him."

 

I feel terrible. It's been ages since I last wrote him a letter, or responded to any of his own.

 

"Have you heard anything from Róisín?"

 

"Nothing, I'm afraid. I've mostly kept to myself as of late, but as you can imagine, recent events might change that. If you'd like, I can try and bring a letter back with me."

"Thank you, Violeta - and thank you for delivering the news. It's a weight off the shoulders of every witch."

"Ah. You see, I came not only to bring the good news, but as a warning. Even with Volpe gone, there's no knowing what his lapdogs will be up to - not to mention the Jacoban High Priest won't be dealt with so easily."

Getting rid of Volpe is a starting point, at least. They can be dealt with eventually - I must remain optimistic. I will teach the younger witches as my mother taught me. Whatever comes our way, everyone young and old will know how to defend themselves. They will know the way of life that has been denied to them and they will pass it on to their children - the young witches will grow old, I will make sure of it.

Even if Volpe's death is not the end of witchfinders, it is the beginning of the end of witchfinders - and they will not outlive us.