CONTENT WARNING: Kidnapping, violence, discussion of loss of a baby, threat, fire, mention of suicide, and a death and a pictured dead body.
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Katlego
The settlement Tsuna directs me to is impressive, and more built-up than Tsuna's more natural settlement. It almost looks like a little village in itself. It gives me faith that, someday, Glimmerbrook will truly thrive. It will not be a place of hiding, but a place of pride and joy in all things arcane. The tall fences are a little daunting, but the voices on the other side sound friendly and joyous.
I knock on the door, and a man covered in fresh soil opens it, giving a welcoming smile. I see people tending to livestock and children laughing with older villagers. The large and beautiful building on the right must be Áine's school.
"Hello there, Miss. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"I am Katlego Anansi. I used to live in Glimmerbrook many years ago, and I-"
Without any ado, he pushes the fence door back and holds out his hand with a kind smile.
"I've heard nothing but good about you, Katlego. Welcome to our settlement. Áine and Owen have told me many great things about you; I'm sure they'd both be glad to see you."
He points out which of the little houses belong to Áine and Owen. I'm excited to meet them both. I feel like a child again. I take a look around this settlement, and everyone waves, some praying to a statue of a dragon. There's a quaintess here that even Finchwick doesn't have. The animals are too cute! Now I want a sheep as well...
...though it seems the sheep do not want me quite so much. The carnivorous painted dog that almost bit me on a trip in my childhood had a better temperament than this sheep!
Henford - where even the herbivores have a bad attitude.
I knock on the door of one of the little houses. A familiar voice tells me that she's busy. I decide to surprise her.
"Really? Too busy for me, Áine? I remember a time when you would do anything I told you to do."
The door handle clacks. She pulls me into the room and throws her arms around me, and I hear her trying to hold back sniffles.
"It's been so long, Katlego...Far too long. I've missed you more than words can convey. I'm so glad to have you back."
She tightens her grip, and I feel a warm wet sensation on my shoulder.
"I told them about you," she says, through gentle sobbing. "I told them everything. Everything you've ever done for me, and for us. I-"
"You defended me years ago when Tsuna told you I was to blame for what happened in her settlement...You defended me even when I wasn't around to hear it. Thank you, Áine, from the bottom of my heart. I'm as happy to see you as you are to see me."
"May I ask why you are black in Glimmerbrook? I fear it is for no good reason, Kat."
The guilt already begins to weigh me down.
"I used my magic on a witchfinder to get him to leave me be. I instilled in him his worst fears...then a letter was found by his corpse. They were so vivid that he had taken his own life. All these years of pacifism and now I have blood on my hands - as well as attacking a witchfinder in my tiger form."
"You didn't kill anyone, Kat. You hurt one person and another chose to take his own life. None of this is your fault. Even if you did end up causing someone's death, that on your shoulders is nothing compared to the bloodshed of the witchfinders. Please, do not blame yourself. Even if you did do something like that, it would change nothing about you."
Áine's words warm me like sunshine, as they always did.
"I missed you greatly, Áine. I'm glad you are still around - and extra glad that you're still teaching. I'm sure your students appreciate you."
"The school is a wonderful place, and the students are keen," she says, a small smile appearing on her face. "Though, seeing you, I thought of you when we had some Mischief casters join us. If you were interested, it'd be wonderful for them to have someone who can actually teach them their own magic. We even have a daughter of the Viridis family, the one with the lions outside of their mansion."
The opportunity sounds incredible - a chance to meet young Mischief casters who, away from their parents, may never learn their abilities otherwise. There isn't much I can teach the other students about Mischief magic itself, but some rough cultural aspects might interest them. We are uncommon in this part of Henford, it seems. Perhaps it would be wise of me to take up her offer. As for the Viridis family - perhaps I owe them a visit? It would be nice to meet another Mischief caster. I hear Isidora is a little...eccentric, but it could be worth it.
"I had your daughter work for me briefly. She's a wonderful and hard-working young lady. A young man named Edwin worked alongside her and tried to look after her."
"That she is...a little too hard-working. She's been using her healing magic on total strangers to help out Owen's wife. We argued about it, and she left here on a sour note the other day... I feel terrible. She's a young woman now, but I just know that isn't safe for her in the slightest - only the alternative is she takes to the streets trying to defend witches with her magic instead."
"The mansion is the safest place for her. Well-fortified and protected by that gryphon. I think she'd be fine."
"She was greatly upset with me before she left...I just hope she knows how much I just want her to be safe."
"Of course she does. She knows it's just a mother's love."
"I hope so." Áine shuffles her feet until she gets up and darts over to the desk. "I have something I want to show you."
She shows me a bunch of scrawled notes and sketches across scattered pages on her desk. I see references to a key, a door and an anchor, as well as to different crystals.
"Are you planning a murder?" I ask her, jokingly.
"Of course not! I believe that my mother's stories from my grimoire are actually spells, written in such a way that either prying eyes could not decipher them, or making sure that I would only try to cast them when I was ready."
"Interesting. What kind of spell?"
She coughs in her throat. "A spell that opens up access to worlds outside of our own."
It takes me a moment to process that. Is she serious?
"And you're certain?"
"Why do we tell stories to our children at all, Katlego? To teach them lessons and skills in a way that make sense to them."
This is true. The story of the trickster spider god I was told in my childhood is a part of what made me who I am today - one to focus on cunning and wit over anything else.
"Surely the school in the settlement will do for now?"
"Soon enough, I believe we will need to look for something bigger. The magic school is far preferable to the caves I used to teach out of, but I cannot build it here, Kat. There is too much in Glimmerbrook that is precious, and I do not wish to disturb the animals nor the fae."
"The fae?"
"I was raised to keep good relationships with them and not anger them. If we build an enormous school on their homes and sacred places, it will surely enrage them.
Mother called it the Creideamh Sí - the fairy faith. We would leave offerings for them and be sure not to upset their dwellings in any way. Glimmerbrook is full of natural wonder, including beautiful hawthorn trees, beloved to the sí. I do not expect anyone here to understand, but I believe I should carve my own space instead of upsetting theirs."
"Surely this would take an immense amount of power to conjure at all, let alone sustain."
"The story mentions a key to the magical world as well as an anchor of some sort," she says. "What constitutes a key and an anchor in this context is beyond my understanding, but I wonder if I, myself, would be an anchor for this world."
"You're one person. Even someone as accomplished as you - I don't know if it's possible. Don't you question this at all?"
The smile that rises slowly across her face convinces me that she's already made up her mind about this. Sometimes I wonder if childhood fantasies should stay right where they are - in one's childhood. I understand that it's tempting to revisit them in middle age, desperate for a return to simpler times - but I don't know what she hopes to get out of this. Even if it is theoretically possible, how do you maintain an open connection to another world?
"Anyhow, you ought to visit Owen. He's currently resting in bed, but I know he would be more than happy to see you."
* * *
Is anyone in here, I wonder? I knock the door a few times until I finally hear a mumbled response. Is he okay?
"It's me, Katlego."
I hear a slurred sound of excitement, and what I think might be a call to come in. There's a strong stench of chemicals in here that almost burns my nose. What kind of alchemist doesn't open a window now and again? Owen stirs and mumbles to himself a little.
"Oh! It is you," he says, through slurred speech. His eyes are only just open, and look rather bloodshot.
"Are you sure you're up to talking?"
"Oh - Of course. Anything for you, Kat." He tries to adjust himself into a more comfortable position, almost face-down on his pillow - it doesn't look very comfortable from my perspective. "I think I've overworked myself a little - tending to the vegetables, Áine teaching me the Ignis spell... but I've been here quite a while. I've been resting up enough to pay my wife a visit later."
He tries to sit up, and I assist him as best as I can. He seems to brighten a little when he looks at me.
"It's a pleasure to see you again, Kat- truly."
"I can't say I'm here for any good reason...it's a long story, but I had to flee again. I...indirectly killed a witchfinder without intention."
"That's nothing compared to what other people have done," Owen replies. "You know what happened to Volpe, don't you?"
I don't say anything. He almost says it with a comical smugness, but I still can't feel sympathy for Lord Volpe whatsoever.
"You know, I think you'd be perfectly suited to-"
"The school? Yes! Áine mentioned. A chance to meet other Mischief casters would benefit both myself and the students. I would welcome the opportunity gladly."
Owen looks a little awkward about something.
"I have to admit, Katlego, I am not paying a social call - the main reason I'm going back is to stop her from having Áine's daughter use healing magic on the patients. You remember what happened to me, don't you? I don't want anything like that happening to Róisín. She wouldn't get the same chances as I did."
"You don't think it's safer for her to be in the mansion?"
"Not at all," he replies, a little stern. "Not for her."
* * *
After some lighter discussion and something to eat and drink, Owen seems a little more lively. In spite of his more dishevelled appearance, and in spite of the lack of luxuries he's been used to his entire life, he seems far happier to be here than amongst his riches.
Áine enters to check on him, passing his cane to him from the other side of the room.
"So do you know anything about why Lydia has my daughter working for her?"
"I'm as in the dark as you are, Áine. I don't know how she got so desperate or what happened to her apprentices." He growls to himself. "She can't play with the life of a teenager like this. As wondrous as lunar magic is, she's in no place to be risking her life like that - nor do I want Lydia to risk losing her job as well. All I ask is you let me be the one to talk to her about it."
"I understand, Owen - I do not think I could bite my tongue. I'd like to return with you, so I can apologise to Róisín - but it's a case of who will look after the school-"
"Áine, forget the school for a moment. We need to ensure the safety of your daughter."
"I can look after it."
"It'll be a good way to get to know the students whilst you're gone, won't it?"
That's the first time I've seen an expression of approval on Owen's face. "I don't see why not. I'm sure the students would love to have you."
"That said, I don't want you to put yourself out just for me, Katlego - not after having to run for your life a second time."
He grabs the ropes around my wrists and leads me outside into the radiant moonlight. He tosses me down to the ground, but I manage to just about land on my feet.
I hesistate, staring up at the full moon as Lunvin's ire, her gift, fills my entire being. If I take a life, I cannot come back from it - but I must. There is no way out of this with all of our lives intact - therefore, I must preserve my own. One less healer would devastate Henford. One less witchfinder would improve it vastly.
"Untie me, then."
The two men loosen my ropes and leave them with James. They're gentler than he was, at least. I won't be so gentle. James slits one of their palms. They hold it out, waiting for me to heal them, getting impatient.
"You know what happens to dogs that can't perform their tricks anymore, don't you, girl?"
"Be patient!"
As far as they are concerned, I am preparing my healing spell. As I gather moonlight in my palms, I find myself thinking as the wolves would do - fight back. Tear them asunder, Rend their flesh from their bones. I chant in the mooncaster tongue:
Lunvin, Wolfmother, I hear Your voice - grant me Your protection.
Lunvin's gift of protection is not so much Her looking after you, though it certainly feels that way.
She grants you the power you need to deal with those that dare try to oppose you.
With the Moon between my fingertips, Her fiery rage and burning determination radiate from me. This spell is one of the most powerful spells any mooncaster can muster - and one of the most dangerous. The Lunvincrier - the lunar scream.
Whirling storms of light circle above and below me, and just before the two men can run - I call upon the catharses of the wolves and the werewolves alike, the sorrows yelled to the goddess by man and beast.
Lunvin, I hear Your call - I will not stand down. I will not hide my tail between my legs. I will take my heartache, my pain, my anger - and they will become my fangs and my claws.
Amongst the fierce haze of blue light, before the men can even scream, the magic blasts them away from me. Within seconds, their bodies lose all definition, their forms torn apart by the rage of my kin.
Their bodies leave no trace, not even dust. Lunvin guards me from any sense of remorse - a wolf does not feel remorse. It does what is necessary. It stands its ground and reminds its adversaries of its terrifying majesty.
James stands dumbfounded, yet otherwise unaffected. All he lost was his hat, and that is not enough.
No. James must lose his life. If only I could peform the Lunvincrier one more time...Lunvin...
My vision blurs. A searing pain strikes my limbs. It hurts to breathe. There's a warm trickle from my eyes and nose.
A figure I can only assume is James approaches me. There's a numbness all over me, a tingling in my fingers and feet, a vile nausea pooling within my stomach. I can barely lift my head.
Lunvin - grant me your protection once again-
Owen
The air is chilling to the bone and thick with uncertainty. Epione's nervous disposition is in full swing, and she is galloping so fast that Áine is having to hold on tightly around my sides so she doesn't fall off.
"I hope we can sort this out, Owen. I don't know if my daughter is willing to listen to reason at this time."
"As do I, Áine. I know that Katlego thinks your daughter is safe there, and I know that it may be preferable to her trying to defend the witches the way her grandfather did - but all it takes is one witchfinder patient. Just one."
She makes a good point. What if Róisín won't listen to reason? What if the luxuries of the mansion and the wonders of a gryphon are too much for a young mind like hers to reasonably leave behind?
I have yet to tell Áine about my little Lucia.
It seems even when I think I have accepted it, a thousand potential futures flash through my mind, convincing me of false memories. Whilst I lost Lucia in different circumstances to the witch-hunts, I know what it is like to lose a daughter. As much as I wish for Róisín's safety, I also wish that Áine shall never know the pain of outliving her own child. I wish that she never wakes up in the middle night wondering what she could have done differently, what could have been.
* * *
"That poor man..."
"Is that a girl in his arms?"
"Quite possibly. I can't see - it's too dark."
"How terrible...He must have lost his daughter to the winter sickness."
"Damn those Annorins - and damn that murderous cunningwoman! If only that poor man had more money - if only the cunningwoman didn't - urgh! Her blood is on their hands!"
* * *
Róisín
My vision's haze is clearing, and the stars in the top of my eyes are disappearing. My throat is dry and my muscles are stiff - and I'm bound to something. My ankles and wrists rub against rope. Is this - is this the park?
My breathing grows frantic, and I do everything I can to try and calm myself. Lunvin got me out of one potentially-life-threatening situation. She can get me out of this one. I look up and -
She's gone. The sky is grey and thick with clouds.
"Well, Róisín? Where is your goddess when you need her? Ah - she's with the rest of them, isn't she? Figments of fiction for the willfully deluded.
You know, I believe that perhaps you were the only witch who would never use her powers for ill gains - and you misled me entirely. Had you have done as you were told, you wouldn't be here."
"As it turns out, I was wrong. You're just as dangerous as the rest of them - and for that...
...you have to burn like the rest of them."
* * *
Áine
We arrive back to the mansion. Patches of dried blood stain the grass outside, and there's skidded muddy marks of giant pawprints and what looks like claw marks through the soil. A blond man exits the doors and gasps with horror.
"Dr. Annorin! You're back! It's been terrible - witchfinders were protesting outside about your whereabouts! They had swords! Valravn killed so many of them - but she told-"
"Slow down, Alex. What happened?"
"Valravn had to hold off a whole load of witchfinders that arrived whilst she was gone the other night. She told Róisín to run for her life, and she's still not back! Have you seen her?"
"What do you mean, 'have we seen her?' My daughter is missing?!"
Owen begs me to try and calm down.
"She's not with her father, or her grandfather, or her aunt. The monastery is flooded with both witchfinders and Jacobans alike, and her father and grandfather are...in their other forms. Tilly spotted them skulking around when she went out to look for Róisín."
Reynold and Alistair are out of the question, as is Mother Clementia. The only other place she would have gone for safety is going to be Eli's home. She may have gone there to let off steam about our argument. If she isn't there, he's going to be terrified - but I have to check.
"Owen - I'm taking Epione and I'm finding my daughter."
* * *
Róisín
Lunvin's eyes are no longer upon me.
Perhaps this is a test of endurance from Her. Perhaps this is what She tried to warn me about upon the moonlit river. My brain feels as if it is melting in my skull, and my vision blurs now and again. I feel the sickly sensation of remorse creeping up within me. I have no reason to have remorse for those men, and yet the ice and fire of deep guilt makes my stomach churn. Lunvin would be proud that I killed to defend myself. My mother would, too, and my grandfather - yet I feel no pride. The only reward I would have gotten was my life - and, in this situation, that reward is not exactly guaranteed.
My mother is not here. My father is not here. My grandfathers are not here. Lunvin is not here. The only person I can rely on to get me out of this is myself. It is up to the wolf to free itself from the snare. If it can't, then nature will prevail, as it always does.
James waves an unlit match in my face with a mocking expression. I try to control my breathing and resist the urge to scream. He tells me that if I scream, he'll light it and kill me - and anyone that tries to save me.
"Did you know that you are the first witch I ever considered sparing, Róisín? I considered that you of all people might have slightly changed my mind. You were so kind and considerate, even for someone of such wretched blood."
"I could have said the same about you," I tell him. "Such a shame that you turned out to be a lapdog masquerading as a pack leader."
He slaps me sharply, and lifts the match once again.
"I was willing to give you a chance, and you proved that you are no different from the others. Even with your miraculous healing abilities, the risks of you being alive outweigh the benefits. Can't have you going around disintegrating everybody in Henford, can I?"
"Then I ask you, James - what's the difference between burning a man and disintegrating one? What's the difference between a match-lit fire and an arcane one?"
He narrows his gaze, so much so that the shadows of the night obscure his eyes for a moment.
"I do what I do to protect the good civilised people of Henford! You people do what you do because you break the rules of nature to bend the world to your will!"
"If I had not broken the rules of nature, then you would be dead."
James sneers at me.
"I should at least hope that your parents are not alive to see their daughter burn."
"They are. And if they find out what you've done, you'll regret it. Nothing you could ever do to a witch will be anything close to what my parents will do to you if you burn me. No amount of burning, drowning and torture is comparable to what they will do to you. Do you know what happens to people who wrong mooncasters in the afterlife? They are bound to our goddess's realm for eternity, forever at the mercy of the wolves - and wolves aren't known for being merciful."
James laughs in his throat. "You expect me to believe that nonsense?"
"Of course."
"Pathetic little girl... If your parents come for me, then they will go the same way you did."
"You don't stand a chance. My mother would set you alight before you could even get the rope around her wrists. And when she's done with you. she won't stop until every single one of you is reduced to ashes."
* * *
Maddie
Still no sign of him! Dan is asking around the town and the inn. He hasn't told Eli about anything that's going on just yet, but he did ask about Róisín and Eli said he hadn't seen her since the market. Dan says no-one has anything at all on her. He says the monastery is mobbed by Jacobans and that he heard the distinct howls of werewolves - a good reason to avoid the place for now.
I have barely seen anyone this evening, but I've spotted someone who I might be able to ask, as futile as it is to do so. She rides a beautiful white horse - so if she does have some information, I might be able to convince her to ride me there. My feet are almost about to fall off. I tuck my sword away.
"You there! Don't go a moment! I'm looking for a teenage girl - blonde long wavy hair, green eyes. Her name's Róisín-"
She eyes me with immediate and heavy suspicion. "And what do you want with my daughter?"
Her mother?! It feels like there's a boulder in my chest...
"I fear she may be in danger. Long story short, she healed the wounds of a witchfinder."
Her expression says more than words ever could. "How do you know this?"
"Because I'm the one who gave him the wound! I stabbed him with the intention of killing him and the bastard survived!"
I get why she's doubting me, but I don't have time to explain details to her.
"Do you know anywhere else she could be?"
"She's not with her uncle. His partner is on the lookout for her as well. The monastery is mobbed by Jacobans, so she's probably not there. I get that there's a lot of gaps in what I'm telling you - I can explain the rest later if you want, but for now we need to find your daughter."
Róisín
As we head toward the park, I hear the rough sound of a woman panicking from afar.
Her panics evolve into yelling, and the closer we get, the clearer her words become -
Mother! Father! Help!
Róisín's mother looks pale as a ghost.
"Miss...is that-"
Without another word, she urges the horse to speed up. Her worst fears may have come to life.
Róisín
A wolf does not scream.
A wolf does not cry.
a wolf does not scream a wolf does not cry
a wolf does not back down it does not give up
a wolf does not back down it does not give up
a wolf does not back down it does not give up
she will find you she will kill you they will kill every last one of you
mother father oskar alistair eli lunvin mother father oskar alistair eli lunvin mother father oskar alistair eli lunvin mother father oskar alistair eli lunvin mother father oskar alistair eli lunvin mother father oskar alistair eli lunvin mother father oskar alistair eli lunvin mother father oskar alistair eli lunvin mother father oskar alistair eli lunvin mother
* * *
