CONTENT WARNING: Sexual intercourse, but the pictures shown are SFW and are just cuddling.
Clementia
I didn't expect to come around at all.
A thousand emotions batter me at once. My entire life ran through my mind as if it were a play.
I expected that I would die, that I would become one with the Watcher. I don't expect to come to in the Peteran monastery. I wonder how it is that I could have survived...until I see her and my father.
"Aunt Clem! Thank Lunvin and thank the Watcher - I thought we'd lost you!"
Her voice is full of tears, though what may have been tears of grief have become tears of joy. Strangely, I don't feel pain - I just feel achy and exhausted. I put a hand underneath my robes to feel my chest, and there's nothing. No wound, not even a scar. I shift myself to the side a little, trying to achieve some level of comfort.
"Róisín...Was this your doing?"
"What? No!"
"The healing, I mean. I should have died."
"You should have," she chirps, seemingly trying to cheer me up, "but you didn't. I didn't want you to - and neither did Lunvin. I used my lunar magic to heal you. Alistair taught me how to heal an injury using it."
The second time. This is the second time that I was supposed to die and that I've been given a second by lunar magic - and by my family. She's still so young, and yet she saved my life.
I may not have lunar magic, but perhaps I owe Lunvin my gratitude. There
are times where, in the past, I've loathed living amongst werewolves -
but I am only alive because of them.
"Two people helped us - Daniel, Eli's partner, and, unbelievably, Madilyn, who was an ex-witchfinder. They were here to give food to the witches in the refuge. She also killed the Jacoban."
A complete stranger? Why would someone like that, and an ex-witchfinder at that, be so willing to defend me when they don't know who I am?
A sense of dread overcomes me. I was hoping the Peterans and Jacobans would never come to violence ever again, and it seems that has changed. Once they find out their Justicer died, who knows how many they'll send after the monastery?
"Where are they now?"
"Róisín sent Daniel and Madilyn to me to tell me of what happened. I told Daniel to head home, and also Madilyn - but she offered to stay and protect the monastery until morning." Alistair lets out a deep sigh. "My dear...I'm so glad you're okay."
Róisín sits on the bed besides me. I'm still in shock - I almost feel guilty for being alive when, in reality, I should have died - twice.
Not only that, but I don't know if I can keep the Peterans safe now. They'll keep sending Jacoban after Jacoban after Jacoban. There's only so much that I can defend this place regardless of my willingness to do so. I ought to accept that I don't have the agility nor the aptitude I had in my youth. No longer being a twenty-two-year-old woman had done me wonders mentally, but not physically.
"I think I should tell Father what happened, Aunt Clem."
I don't really want to drag Reynold into all of this mess. Two werewolves on the front line might be beneficial, for both healing and killing reasons - but I didn't want to get in the way of him and Áine. He'd finally found his own life, and I didn't want to interrupt that.
"I don't think your father would want to come back."
"Of course he would. You're his sister. He loves you."
I turn myself over, and my muscles feel stiff as metal.
"Róisín, I'm beyond thankful for what you did for me. It means the world to me. You and your father do. It's just that..."
"Clem, you can't do this alone! You've tried to do it alone most of your life, and... I admit, that's largely my fault."
"Who says I can't, Father? I don't want anything happening to you, Reynold, or anyone else. And don't you think about getting your hands dirty either - you're an old man now!"
"This isn't a question of your aptitude - it's a question of not wanting my daughter to die. You can't do this alone, Clementia. It isn't good for you, nor for the witches in the refuge." Alistair looks down at the floor. "I may be old and past it, Clem, but I'm still your father, and I'm a child of Lunvin - nothing will stop me until I'm dead and buried."
The Bloodmoon has never left him, has it? Guilt has always hung over Alistair, but ever since that day he lost his former superior and close friend, he's always been different. He's the last survivor. Oskar saw his only way out as being through battle, and I wonder if he thinks the same way.
Even after all the support I'd received over the years, I still find it difficult accepting help from others. The old Clem who had to fight tooth and claw for a modicum of respect and importance slipped through the cracks every now and again, wanting to take everything into her own hands to prove herself to no-one. I can't keep doing it now, otherwise I may not survive another attack.
If Father and Reynold - and maybe even the Peterans - want to help, I have to let them.
"Very well. Go and bring Reynold back, but only if he wants to come back."
"Of course he'll want to come back."
"I'll keep an eye on Maddie," Róisín says, with a hint of bluntness. Alistair tells her to wait, and he goes to check on her himself.
* * *
"Maddie? I thought I told you to keep an eye on Clem."
"MADDIE!"
"Oh! Er-hem - Mr. Morgan. Don't worry. I'm keeping a beady eye out for any Jacobans."
"If Clem gets a single scratch on her, I'll tear you apart. Is that understood?"
"Crystal-clear, Mr. Morgan. And if you're wondering, 'Oh, Maddie, how can I trust you?' - If I wasn't being sincere about this whole 'turning over a new leaf' thing, do you think I'd go as far as to kill a Jacoban to defend someone I don't even know? Hell, I'm going to have my own personal witch-hunt to deal with after all that! And I don't have any family to back me up."
* * *
Reynold
With the snow subsiding for a while, we try to get back to get our duties around the village.
Having Owen here is a nice touch; I missed his friendship. He's going to help my partner with the school as an alchemy teacher. I think it will do him good, a new life down on the ground. He may miss his family (and his many luxuries) but he seems to be adjusting well to living here.
Though he looks pale and tired, he at least looks less gaunt-faced than he did back when we met at the coffeehouse. As a physician, he wasn't looking after himself as well as he was looking after his patients. He'd often skip meals, for one, to make time for work or family matters. He seems to be enjoying himself here so far, and he and Áine seem to get along.
Owen has offered to help with the manual tasks whenever his condition wasn't causing him too much of an issue, so Xander gets him tending to the plants, picking the vegetables. I keep hearing him grunt and mumble to himself as he scrambles through the soil.
"Chin up, Dr. Annorin! Your fingers have been up so many backsides over your career! Why does fumbling through soil bother you?"
"You can't possibly be comparing - that - to this! It's freezing and the worms in the soil are unnerving."
"What's unnerving about a bloody worm?"
"Are you implying that you prefer the warmth of a patient's-"
"No! I just - Look at them! They're such strange little creatures - no eyes, no legs! They're just strange little pink strings that like to get in the way whilst I'm trying to harvest these mushrooms!"
"Well, it's up to you- you can stay here and pick veg and mushrooms, or you can go back to rummaging through rich people's arseholes."
"But Xander, can't you get worms there too?"
"ENOUGH! No more about this topic!" Owen begs, as the rest of us cackle.
Owen's face goes as red as the tomatoes he picked earlier. All the laughter comes to an abrupt halt when a familiar voice calls my name. Xander opens it gingerly, but he has nothing to be afraid of. Myself, on the other hand... There's only one reason my father would come all the way out here... my heart turns to ice.
"Reynold? Is this man who he says he is? He certainly looks like you, but-"
"He is indeed, Xander. Father, why are you here?"
I imagine he got here the same way Eli did - through Tsuna. I imagine she noticed the resemblance and knew he was telling the truth. I don't mean what I say to him to sound so abupt and accusative. I just want to know the bad news as quickly as possible.
"My son, I'd like to ask you to come back to Henford and help your sister out. I'll try to keep this short. She was attacked by Jacobans...Róisín healed her just in time with her moon magic. She was stabbed. The man who is responsible is dead."
It almost feels like a knife to the stomach, but my biggest anxiety melts away for a moment - I panicked that I had lost my sister. To know that she is stable is a relief, but...what reason would a Jacoban have to take up violence against Clementia? I'd hoped and prayed that the violence between Peteran and Jacoban was left in the distant past.
"Since when did the Jacobans want my sister dead? Since when did they go out killing people? I thought the Justicers died out years ago!"
"They did, son - but they're back. They targeted your sister after she spoke up in defense of witches at Juniper and Owen's trials."
"Juniper? How the - nobody hates witches more than Juniper!"
How much have I missed being here? How much have things changed back in Henford? A cold chill of guilt settles in my stomach, but I don't have much time to talk to Alistair about such matters.
"Father, I want to properly say goodbye to people here and finish off some work I promised for Xander. I can return tomorrow morning- is that alright with you, if Clem is stable?"
"She's just shaken, Reynold, but the physical wound is healed. That sounds good to me. I think she'll be excited to see you again. She's missed you." Alistair looks away. "I'm deeply sorry, son. I know you and Clem fought hard to prevent a clash between the Jacobans and the Peterans, but High Priest Thorne is not like Julian or Juniper were."
Were? Juniper was killed?! Surely the Jacobans wouldn't let their Great Convincer get convicted of - that is, unless, she's... No, this is all a mess.
If Lunvin were out right now, she'd be telling me to tear every Jacoban limb from limb...and when she comes out, I don't know if I'll be able to resist that call. The Jacobans aren't like Lord Volpe. They won't go down easily.
I can't. I can't allow me to get distracted by dark thoughts, not when I need to say goodbye to Áine.
Áine
First my daughter, now my partner.
"Áine, I'm sorry - I have to go back to Henford. Clem was attacked, and the only reason she's alive is because Róisín healed her with lunar magic."
I jump up in shock. "Attacked? By a witchfinder?"
"By a Jacoban. The Justicers have been reformed. He was killed by someone else, but..."
It makes my blood boil. This will be the second time lunar magic saved Clem from a grisly death, and I'm sure that's at the forefront of her mind, bringing back old memories. To know that the Peterans and the Jacobans will have old rivalries reawakened in all this madness... but I must remain here to teach the students.
"Is she stable?"
"Thankfully, yes."
"Is...is there a chance you can stay a little longer?"
It feels selfish, but how often have I been selfish in my life? I'm fighting within myself. I let my daughter go, but I had always assumed that my partner would stay. What if he doesn't come back from Henford?
"Áine, my sister is a target of the Jacobans! I can't stay here."
"Reynold, I - ugh, I'm sorry. I just - I don't know how I'll cope not having my family here again. For years, I spent almost all of my time looking after Róisín and protecting her, and then I had to let her go. And now I have to let you go, also."
If he leaves, then at least I will have the school to focus on - and, with any luck, perhaps Owen and I will get along well. He isn't family, but he'll be as close as I have with my partner and daughter gone.
There have been times in my life where I dreamed of being a working woman, not entirely devoting myself to motherhood and to my partner - and now that time has dawned upon me, now that I can completely focus on teaching magic to the students, I'm clawing at my old life wanting it back. Despire for progress and desire for stability battle each other in the forefront of my mind, but regardless of who wins, the outcome will remain the same.
"I'll miss you, Reynold."
"We'll see each other again, Áine. I don't know when - could be in the middle of all of this, could be at the end - but we'll see each other. It'll nice to see Róisín ag- sorry."
"No, it's fine."
I'm forever thankful that our paths crossed, and that, even to this day, the two still loved one another as if it were the day after Beltane when we were just in our twenties, young, joyful, and a little reckless.
