CONTENT WARNING: outdated mental health attitudes / terminology
Tsuna
Amongst the hacked-together settlements of the witches of Glimmerbrook, there are two sizeable mansions belonging to our descendants who left us in the dust to ensure their own futures. To people new to the area, it's a strange sight. Why don't they put their money into our settlements, they ask? The answer is obvious, isn't it? If they help us, they become targets. Many bloodline casters, they would rather save their own behinds.
One belongs to the Viridis family - represented by the Green Lion - a Mischief-casting family with rumours of ties to the fae, and a history of lunacy disguised as alchemical breakthrough. The uncle, Walter, peddles his false cures wherever he can. I don't know myself if he is intentionally trying to swindle people, or if his warped mind genuinely believes that his creations are at all capable of what he claims they're capable of.
This is the home of the Charm family, represented by the Mare - a lineage of proud yet strict spellcasters. They have always had an interest in anything to do with horses, and often kept particularly well-bred specimens.
I don't bother to politely knock - I barge straight through the doors. The opulence of the places makes me nauseous and furious in equal amounts.
"Calm down. I'm not here for you - where is your mother?!"
"Please! Please don't hurt Mother!"
"I won't, if she plays nicely. I just want a word."
I hear a low and sophisticated Henfordian accent from around the corner. "Genevieve, Elaina. To your rooms at once - and do not return until I call you. Is that understood?"
The two lightly bow to their mother. "Indeed, Mother. Right away." Like orderly clockwork, they make their way back up the stairs, their eyes not leaving me.
Evadne calmly steps forward. She slams her book shut with a thud that echoes throughout the drawing room and stares me down.
"What brings you here, darling? And where are your manners?"
"Did you or did you not kill Jemima? And what on Earth did you to Clara?!"
There isn't a sliver of empathy across her features. Her expression doesn't change even slightly. She opens and closes her eyes slowly, and opens her book once again.
"I told them the risks of the Rite and they accepted," she replies. "They knew what they were getting into."
Emerald raises up high, hissing at her. I have to resist the temptation to let Emerald constrict her throat.
"Why, then? Why would they want to get rid of their magic? Why would you want to take anyone's magic away from them?"
Her eyebrows raise at her book. If only she were so invested in the lives of real people as she is in the lives of those who live between the pages.
"Let me put it to you in a way you will understand, Iris - do you think a woman has the right to make whatever choice she believes is best for herself?"
"Of course I do - but what's best for witches is not to get rid of their magic!"
"We live in trying and desperate times, darling. People are going to do whatever it takes to survive. If that means to returning to mundane humanity, then so be it. All I'm doing is offering a people a way out."
"If you were paying any attention, you know it doesn't just take magic to make you a witch in the eyes of a witchfinder."
"That is the beauty of the Rite of Dissolution being a preventative measure, and not a definite solution, then, isn't it?
We are a family of proud and accomplished spellcasters, but we are content to hide it when necessary to survive. Some cannot hide it the way most of us do; it eats away at their souls, and the pain will only stop when the magic is no longer there. Without their magic, their spirit and their emotions are dulled enough that they allow a person to survive against all odds," she explains.
The thought of it fills my entire being with prickly spite. Why would anyone not want to feel? I would rather experience all the worst emotions a person could possibly feel, than to feel nothing at all.
"Come, Iris. Share some tea with me, if you will."
Begrudgingly, I follow. All around the drawing room are enormous statues of horses. Some look proud, others slightly pained. Katlego's return to the settlement has forced me to try and approach this the way she might - by using my words. If she can win people over with hers, perhaps I can try with mine. The fragrant tea helps to settle my mind a little.
"Many consider the Mare to be a symbol of strength, but she is not. Of course she isn't. She is a symbol of servitude, of sacrifice and of a life that will never truly be her own. Her entire life is a test of her endurance. Despite it all, she is majestic and beautiful. A creature who is only valued for its service and its beauty, and should it lose either of those qualities, it will be considered useless and discarded. It is something every woman has in common, isn't it?"
Though a grim and dismal way to look at an animal so intertwined with the betterment of human lives, and the animal portrayed in every corner of her mansion, I see her point.
"The Charm family has been matriarchal for as long as I can remember. When I was a girl, I learned of an ancestor hiding behind her mare from her awful husband, who her loyal mare killed instantly with a kick to the head.
It became a recurring punishment to any Charm husband who tried to do harm to his wife - but what we have now was not obtained without struggle, and it will be the same for everyone with magic in their blood. You know how it is, darling - when it comes to all we take from men and witchfinders alike, we endure and we persevere.
In the same way that you only care about those with magic, all I care about are my two beautiful girls. I want them to do well. I do not want them - or myself - risking my life for the sake of others. I want them to thrive - to break this cycle. However, I understand that this will be a slow process. We cannot all break free entirely of witchfinders and dangerous men overnight. It will take years and years."
"True witches are the only reason you have your abilities in the first place, Evadne. You can't just let them suffer and die and do nothing about it. I have done nothing but defend the people in my settlement - why can't you?"
"If you are so understanding of the need to preserve the lives of witches, then why are you so opposed to me not wanting to lay down my life for a futile cause?"
She gazes into the face of the golden walking mare statue, tarnished by the years passed.
"I can see why some would see their magic as their own personal shackles. We have enough shackles, Iris - I offer the Rite of Dissolution to those who wish to be free of at least one of them. If it were not for witchfinders, then I would not have do this. People would not want to have their magic taken from them in fear of persecution if there were no persecution to speak of. I understand your fury, Iris, but you must understand that I am not your enemy."
I despise myself for thinking this, but Evadne is right. This is all part of the bigger picture. Were it not for Volpe's actions, and everyone who went along with his beliefs, this wouldn't be happening. The Dissolution would not be killing people, and Evadne would not be offering a way out. As furious as I am, the blood is not on her hands. In the same way Katlego didn't see the point in fighting, neither does Evadne - though at least Kat uses her voice. Evadne is doing absolutely nothing - though I think I know what may convince her to take some level of action.
"You say the mare is not a symbol of strength, yet it is thanks to the company of horses that your ancestors survived husbands who might have even killed them otherwise. If that mare did not protect her family with its powerful kick, then perhaps the ...tradition... of your horses killing off your husbands never would have happened. They may have all still been stuck under the thumb of someone who sought to try and control them."
Evadne's eyes glitter, either with held-back tears or with piqued interest.
"Hm. I must admit, I had never thought of it that way. I suppose that's true.
I have to admit, Iris, I am not like you. The thought of conflict terrifies me, as does the thought of risking myself like this- but if I do nothing at all, then I suppose there will be no progress...and without progress, I cannot truly protect my Genevieve or Elaina from anything."
I try to quell my anger about Jemima and Clara. They made their choices, and there is nothing else I can do about the result of those choices. All I can do is try to secure another ally.
"Evadne, I apologise greatly for my actions today, but you must understand why I was so angry. However, I appreciate you listening to me the way you did. I must admit, I did not expect it. And you needn't be afraid - we would never let anything happen to you or your children."
She gives me a slow nod. "I must ask you to leave, Iris-"
"Tsuna is fine. Iris is not my real name."
"Ah. Well, Tsuna, it is about time myself and my daughters sat down for our dinner, but you've given me much to think about."
"Oh, and Tsuna, one more thing."
"Knock next time, or Midnight Serenade will not hesistate to trample you."
I ignore her idle threats and take my leave - that is, when a beautiful white horse blocks my path...
Reynold
I didn't realise how much I had missed Withernham and Finchwick until I'd returned. I almost feel a sense of guilt for feeling that way, away from Áine - as well as for being away from Clem when she was nearly killed. Róisín was only in the monastery basement when it happened, helping the refugees out - and yet it was her magic that saved my sister. In a sense, it terrified me, but in another sense, it reassured me that Róisín won't grow up cut off from her abilities the way I was by my own father.
Alistair has spent most of his time going after witchfinders, especially the Jacoban justicers. Many people are falling for the Jacoban witch furore, and so for every justicer taken out of the picture, there's a new shepherd or shepherdess in their place.
I've been living with Clem for two months now. I find myself thinking about how much time has passed. It feels like just days ago we were children running around Lunvik all day pretending to be werewolves to scare the other one - and now we can barely get off the sofa without our legs or back giving out for a moment.
She keeps waking up in the middle of the night, breathing heavily, convinced she's dying. The incident is fresh in her mind, as if it happened mere days ago.
"I know it's been some time now, but I can't put into words how thankful I am for you coming back, Reynold. I just feel awful. You had a whole new life with Áine and then-"
"Clem, don't blame yourself. It's not your fault you got attacked. Áine is fine in Glimmerbrook, but you aren't fine here without your family. I know I'm pretty useless when the Moon isn't out, but I want to try and help you."
I love Áine to pieces, but I feel like, for a long time, she's been a little...wayward. There is always something missing. She was fine at Tsuna's settlement. Then we moved to Xander's settlement, and whilst it's done her a lot of good, I fear it will happen again - that it won't be fulfilling in some way, that she'll want to leave again. For years, we dreamed of a place to settle down. We found one, but she became unsettled again. Once the lessons at the school started, she seemed to stop talking to a lot of the villagers.
Clem gives me a puppy-like look. Did she really think I'd put my partner before her? Clem doesn't have magic to defend herself with. One woman with a sword, no matter how capable, is nothing compared to the Justicers.
"I apologise for all the things I said growing up about lunar magic - about Lunvin. I was wrong to say all of those insulting things. Twice now, it's only thanks to Her that I am alive - thanks to you, and thanks to your wonderful daughter."
Clem had begun wearing certain moon-themed jewellery pieces as a sort of gratitude to Her. She also offered light prayers to the Moon some nights.
"Clem, Lunvin would never hold that against you. Do you think she'd have let you live twice if that was the case?"
Clem lets out a deep sigh and holds her forehead in her hands.
"I feel like everything is back to square one," she says, through gritted teeth. "Someone told me that I 'sounded like a Jacoban' at the last sermon. I feel as if I'm going back to the way I was in my twenties - just in a different set of robes."
"That's not true, Clem. It's different now. You have people who you know for definite want the best for you - who believe in you."
The Peteran regulars think the world of her. Almost everyone I know does.
"You know, give it two-hundred years or so and none of this is going to matter. Once reason and logic prevail in their entirety, people won't want spirituality. They won't need it."
"There will always be a place for spirituality, Clem - even if not necessarily in the form of Peteran and Jacoban."
No matter how bad things get, there will always be a need for spiritual belief. Humanity would not survive without at least some escape from the known world.
* * *
With Clem back to sleep, I try to switch off with some reading - that's until Róisín comes in, with an excitable look upon her face. Before I have a chance to look up, she's already off.
"Father! You won't believe what's happened! I've found an incredible opportunity!"
Father tells me that Róisín has helped defend a young boy from a witchfinder, and that she was helping to deliver Kat's remedies whilst I was away. I'm glad she kept busy, but I'm a little wary of her going against witchfinders the way she did.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The title is taken from a William Shakespeare quote. Thank you to Charsimsalot on Tumblr for helping me with numerous aspects of this chapter and its direction and for providing ideas.