Chapter Text
“For the most part, the story is true,” nodded Astrath.
He was seated across from Phoebe in front of his hut in the woods. She had just finished recounting the tale of the lords of creation to him, as told to her by her sister in her most recent letter. She tilted her head.
“But?”
“But what?” asked Astrath.
“Well,” started Phoebe, “if you say ‘for the most part’, that means there’s still more to it, right?”
Astrath smiled. “Very perceptive.”
But he remained quiet. His apparent refusal to elaborate frustrated Phoebe’s sense of curiosity.
“So?”
“So what?” asked Astrath, calmly.
Phoebe groaned. “Could you perhaps tell me what it is that’s missing? Or wrong?”
“Patience,” responded Astrath.
“That is what you are missing, child.”
Suddenly, Phoebe realized how pushy she was being. Embarrassed by herself, her shoulders slumped, and her gaze wandered down to the floor.
“I apologize,” she said.
Astrath sat up straight, and observed the crowns of the trees high above them as he gathered his thoughts.
“Tell me, child, do you believe that Tharamos was rightfully banished?” he asked.
For a moment, Phoebe pondered. “Well, it was their creations that broke the vow, no?”
“That is correct,” agreed Astrath.
“Their creations .”
He placed a heavy emphasis on the word.
“What are you trying to say?” wondered Phoebe.
The old man took a deep breath, and looked into her eyes.
“The demons did not crawl to the surface because they were told to,” he stated.
“The desire to explore new frontiers is within the nature of all life. For the same reason, dandelion seeds float on the breeze, to take root and grow stems in another place. And in the same vein, mankind invented tools, and constructed boats to sail the seas. Perhaps the demons, too, were merely hoping to find something on the other side; something similar to themselves. Perhaps the underground had grown cold, and desolate. Perhaps all they longed for was warmth.”
This struck a chord with Phoebe. She couldn’t help but wonder what the demons were truly like. Of course, she had heard stories of witches and humans being ambushed by them in the night, but she had never actually seen one for herself. She wondered if perhaps they were merely fighting back in defense against a perceived threat, and not out of malice.
“Ironically, it is the humans now that are digging down into the earth,” continued Astrath.
“Tearing mountains asunder with picks and hammers, in search of coal and metals. They are, inevitably, bound to face the demons if they prod deep enough. Their pursuit of the depths is conscious, not an act of instinct. Tell me, then – does that not make them as guilty as the demons? Does that not make them breakers of the vow just the same?”
“I suppose so,” nodded Phoebe.
“But still, it was the demons who broke the rules first.”
“Only because they were following their nature,” countered Astrath.
“Just as a parent cannot predict what sort of person their child will grow into one day, the gods could not foresee the development of their creations. If their natures had been swapped, Irendaleth would have been punished instead. The vow between shadow and light was nothing more than a game of chance. The conditions were too loose. Neither side could have influenced the outcome, neither of them was in control of what their creations might do if left alone. The vow was guaranteed to be broken one way or another. It was not a matter of if , but a matter of when .”
A sudden thought crossed Phoebe’s mind.
“Are you suggesting they made this vow with the sole aim to eliminate the other?”
“That is what it has always seemed like to me, yes. A gamble of fates, so to speak.”
A smile crept on Astrath’s lips, strangely bitter.
“What is it, Astrath?” asked Phoebe.
He remained silent for a while. From the look in his eyes, Phoebe could tell the old man was considering saying more. But eventually, he simply shook his head.
“Oh, nevermind,” he said.
“Earlier, you seemed very excited about something, child. What about, if I might inquire?”
“Right! I almost forgot!” Phoebe’s face lit up.
“I’ve made two friends, Astrath! Human friends!”
Astrath smiled warmly. “Is that so?”
“Yes!” The girl nodded.
“Their names are Ann and Fredric! I’ve chosen trust, just as you said, and they’re both wonderful!”
“I am happy to hear that, child,” said Astrath.
“But make certain you remember the other half of what I said as well, just in case.”
Phoebe rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes. But don’t worry, everything will be alright.”
“If you say so,” nodded Astrath.
“I know so!” grinned Phoebe. She gasped.
“Ah, that reminds me – I’m supposed to meet up with them again in a little while!”
“Go on, then,” shooed Astrath.
“Be on your way, child, and enjoy your time with them.”
Phoebe got up from her rock, and quickly waved Astrath good-bye.
“I’ll tell you all about them tomorrow! I promise!”
With that, she rushed out of the woods, and made her way to the spot where she had met Ann and Fredric the day before, hoping that the weather would play along this time.
-
Lucia sleepily opened her eyes. A gentle warmth lingered in the room, in spite of the seasonal cold. The first light of dawn shone hazily through the only window from behind drawn curtains. She yawned.
Something tightened around her waist. Then, there was a pull – it felt almost demanding, unwilling to let go. The white-haired girl felt her heart leap, and her cheeks grew warm.
For a moment, she’d remembered the previous night as nothing more than a dream, a mere fantasy constructed by her subconscious. But the illusion was shattered, now. It was Umbra who was cradling her, tightly holding her like her most valuable possession.
She could feel her chest pressed up to her back, her thighs brushing against the backs of her own. The woman’s breath felt warm on top of her head. Laying down only made the difference in their statures more noticeable. Lucia felt safe, there in her arms.
“Good morning, Commander Winterbottom,” whispered Umbra.
There was a slight rasp to her voice, a result of the long night behind them. It sent tingles down Lucia’s neck.
“Good morning to you as well,” she said.
She couldn’t help but smile. The girl cautiously turned around, now face-to-face with Umbra. Deeply, they gazed into one another’s eyes, silently yearning for more. Lucia couldn’t look directly at her for long. She felt quite flustered – she had never shared a bed with anyone before, and certainly not bare-skinned.
“Say, did we really–”
“Yes,” nodded Umbra, chuckling.
“We did.”
Lucia giggled as well. She did her best to look into her lover’s eyes again.
“I hope I didn’t do anything wrong, or stupid,” she started.
“I haven’t exactly.. well.. this was sort of my first time, you see?”
Umbra’s eyes widened. “Really?”
Lucia pressed her lips together, and nodded. “Mhm.”
The black-haired woman propped her head up with her hand and grinned.
“Well, don’t worry.”
She brushed through Lucia’s hair with her free hand, sweeping her bangs aside.
“You did great. Nothing’s left to be desired.”
Umbra gently kissed her forehead, and her smile softened.
“Thank you, Luce.”
She placed her hand on Lucia’s cheek.
“I love you.”
Lucia took a moment to process this, to realize the weight of those words. Then, her eyes grew blurry, and she hid her face by pushing it into Umbra’s chest.
“I love you too, Umbra,” she sniffled.
Their legs entangled, and they pulled each other close. In that moment, Lucia wanted nothing more than to tell Umbra her real name. She wanted to hear her say it, find out how it would sound in the melody of her voice.
A knock at the door stopped her in her tracks, and her heart jumped. For a good while there, she had forgotten they weren’t alone in this castle. For just one night, it had been only the two of them, and no-one else in this world. The knock grimly reminded them both of their present reality.
“Yes?” said Umbra, still holding Lucia tightly in her arms.
“Commander Valo, Commander Winterbottom,” spoke a voice outside the door.
“His royal highness, King Nathair, commands you both to come see him in his throne room.”
Umbra and Lucia exchanged a quick glance of confusion. There was a deep sense of disappointment in their eyes, too. They didn’t want to let go of each other just yet.
“Alright,” responded Umbra.
“Inform the king that we will be there within the hour.”
Lucia raised an eyebrow. Umbra put a shushing index finger on her lips. She was trying to haggle for time.
“It is a rather urgent matter,” said the voice.
“You should not leave his royal highness waiting for so long.”
“Fine,” said Umbra.
“How does half an hour sound?”
Silence. The guard pondered her suggestion.
“That seems like a long time to get ready,” he eventually answered.
“Well, it takes a long time to put on all this armor,” countered Umbra.
“Really, three quarters of an hour would be reasonable. Half an hour is the best we can do.”
Umbra and Lucia quietly giggled to themselves. Outside, the guard took another long moment to think about this before finally responding.
“Alright, but make sure to be there on time, please. His royal highness is already expecting you.”
“Of course,” nodded Umbra.
“You may return to your duties, now. Thank you.”
After hearing the guard’s footsteps fade away in the distance, they waited for a few more seconds. And then, they laughed whole-heartedly, their bodies still entwined as one.
“I cannot believe you did that,” laughed Lucia.
“Lying to the king? That’s grounds for exile!”
“Ah, who cares. I’ve already been doing that the entire time I’ve been here,” cackled Umbra.
“And besides, I find I wouldn’t mind being sent into exile, so long as it’s together with you.”
After spending another twenty minutes together, they eventually crawled out of bed with great reluctance, and helped each other put on their suits of armor as fast as they could, carrying their helmets rather than wearing them. They hurried on over to the throne room, and kneeled down before the king and his son, the prince.
“There you are,” scoffed King Nathair.
“I thought you would never show up.”
“You wished to see us, my lord?” asked Umbra, doing her best to retain her composure.
The king got up from his throne, and made his way down the steps towards the two commanders with his hands held behind his back. Umbra and Lucia were still kneeling, their eyes firmly stuck to the ground.
“You may rise,” said the king.
The two knights, clad in black and white armor respectively, did as they were told and rose to their feet.
The king continued. “It has come to my attention that a number of townsfolk believe that one amongst their ranks is sheltering a group of dangerous witches inside their household.”
Umbra raised an eyebrow. “In the castle town?”
“That is correct,” nodded the king. He pointed his gaze towards Lucia.
“Now, if memory serves, it is your duty as leader of the Order of the Aegis to protect the kingdom, as well as mankind as a whole. Correct?”
“Yes, my lord,” agreed Lucia.
The old man stepped up to her, his face only centimeters away from hers. She could hear the whistling of his hairy nostrils, and smell the red wine on his breath.
“I will only ask this once,” he started.
“Were you aware of this? Of the infestation growing just outside these walls?”
“No, my lord,” responded Lucia.
“You have my word.”
He stared into her bright blue eyes for a while, furrowing his brows. Lucia felt a tightness inside her chest, an urge to run away. She knew she was telling the truth – yet under this awful, piercing scrutiny of his it felt to her as though she was lying. A few moments later, the king finally turned away from her, and walked back up the steps to his throne.
“Good,” he said as he sat down.
“Then go forth, you two. Take the Aegis Knights along with you, and investigate that household. There is a guard waiting for you outside who will tell you where to go.”
He extended his arm, gesturing towards the main exit.
“And bring me whoever it is you find in there. Alive.”
Umbra caught a quick glance of the prince’s expression. There was a grave concern on his face, as though his father was not telling them the entire truth. Umbra and Lucia bowed, turned around, and headed towards the Order’s quarters with swift steps.
“Something’s off,” said Umbra as they walked side by side.
“He’s never given such direct and immediate orders before. I don’t like this.”
“It isn’t up to us to question the king’s will,” responded Lucia.
“You know the consequences of disobedience as well as I do.”
Of course Umbra knew. It was impossible to forget the fact that Lucia had made a soul-pact with Irendaleth, the “All-Maker”, tying her life to that of all other witches, committing her to an eternity of servitude to mankind in exchange for strength beyond anyone’s wildest imaginings.
A part of her still didn’t want to believe it was true. But Umbra had seen her wield Zenithstar, Irendaleth’s sacred blade of light. It confirmed that she had gone through with the pact. She simply couldn’t deny that reality – what was done could not be undone. All she could do now was hope that Lucia had made the right choice. She could only have faith in her.
“I do,” nodded Umbra.
“Just.. be wary, okay? Don’t forget who you are, or where you came from.”
Lucia pressed her lips together and nodded quietly. She couldn’t look Umbra in the eyes.
Suddenly, she felt ashamed again.
-
“Phee! Catch!”
Ann confidently tossed the ball over to Phoebe. Together with Fredric, they were playing on a wide, open field next to the forest. Ann had suggested they should come here, as running around in the village would only mean they’d inevitably bump into someone or break a window with a misplaced throw.
“Got it! I’ve got it!” proclaimed Phoebe.
As she stretched out her arms to catch the ball, she tripped over a small rock on the ground and fell into the tall grass. The ball hit her head instead, and bounced towards Fredric, who somehow managed to catch it.
“Oof,” groaned Phoebe as she pulled herself up to her knees.
Ann immediately rushed to her side. “Heavens, are you okay?”
“Yes, yes, don’t worry,” nodded Phoebe with an awkward smile.
“I’m just a bit clumsy.”
Fredric laughed. “You can say that twice. Where’d you learn how to catch a ball?”
Ann shot a fiery glare at him. “Fredric!”
“No, it’s alright,” chuckled Phoebe.
“He has a point. No-one ever taught me.”
“No-one? Really?” asked Ann. There was a saddened disbelief in her eyes.
“I, uhm,” stumbled Phoebe.
“W-well, I suppose where I’m from it’s not really a girls’ thing.”
She was lying. The only reason she’d never played ball with anyone was because her parents were afraid she’d be hurt or worse if anyone found out she was a witch. Her white hair and blue eyes weren’t particularly easy to hide, and most human grown-ups knew exactly what they meant.
Phoebe wasn’t sure if Ann and Fredric knew. Either they knew and didn’t care; or they didn’t know at all. If it was the latter, Phoebe knew it was better if it stayed that way. She wanted to trust them more than anything in the world. She hated living her life in constant fear of being betrayed.
“That’s too bad,” said Ann.
“It’s miserable that people still think that way these days, don’t you agree?”
Phoebe quietly nodded. Ann held her hand out to her.
“Here,” she said.
The white-haired girl reluctantly took her hand. It suddenly occurred to her that the only hands she’d ever held in her life were her parents’, and her sister’s. Ann’s hand felt warm, and soft. Something about it felt ever so slightly different from the other hands she’d touched thus far, and it made her feel funny. A light shade of red overcame her cheeks.
“Thank you,” said Phoebe as she allowed Ann to help her up.
There was a strange look in Fredric’s eyes that Phoebe couldn’t quite place. It felt judgmental, somehow. Not a trace of that sensation was to be found in the way Ann was looking at her. In her eyes, she found only kindness.
“Do you want to keep going?” asked Ann.
“Or would you rather head home and wash up?”
“Hey, we just got here!” groaned Fredric, still holding the ball.
“A little bit of dirt won’t stop her. Right, Phee?”
Phoebe looked down at her legs. Her pants were splashed with mud, and slightly scratched near the knees. She was glad she had chosen not to wear a skirt instead today – else the siblings would have seen her bruises heal within minutes.
“Right,” she nodded.
“Then let’s keep going,” said Fredric. He snapped his fingers.
“New rule: we can’t stop running while we play. If you stop running, you’re out.”
“Isn’t that just going to make it even more likely for us to trip and fall?” sighed Ann.
“Perhaps,” shrugged Fredric.
“But what’s the point of tossing the ball around without any rules or scoring?”
“He’s right,” agreed Phoebe.
“Let’s do it.”
Fredric smiled at her. The judgment in his eyes had faded.
“Thank you! There you have it,” he said.
“It’s decided. Two to one.”
“Oh, fine,” said Ann.
“But don’t whine if you end up with your face in the dirt, you hear?”
“I don’t whine!” complained Fredric.
Ann looked over at Phoebe, rolled her eyes and smirked.
“Yes, yes,” she scoffed.
And so, they continued to pass the ball to each other as they ran across the field. As the game went on, it slowly drove them further and further towards the forest. Fredric was ahead of the girls, across a bridge above a brook.
Ann threw the ball to him, but Fredric tripped over a protruding root and missed his catch. To the group’s dismay, the ball sailed right past him and into the water below. The three of them leaned over the bridge’s railing as they watched it float away. Fredric thumped his fist against the wood.
“Dang it,” he said.
“Hey, Fredric,” mocked Ann.
“Where’d you learn to catch?”
Ann and Phoebe quietly chuckled to themselves.
“This isn’t funny,” hissed Fredric.
“We have to get it back. Mother and father said we wouldn’t get a new one if we lost it, remember?”
“Then let’s just go after it,” said Ann.
“How hard can it be? All we have to do is follow the flow of the water.”
Unfortunately for the group, this turned out to be more difficult than expected. The brook was quite rapid, and it swiftly carried the ball away from them. Just as they were about to catch up to it, it fell down a little waterfall and into a much broader river below.
The ground next to the river was covered with fall leaves and various nettles and thistles, and all three of them were stung and bitten by insects several times. Eventually, the river flowed into a great lake. A group of watering deer on the other side stood frozen in place for a few moments, alerted by all the noise, and then sprinted away into the forest. Out of breath and bruised all over, the children watched the ball float further and further towards the center of the lake in disbelief.
“Now what?” wheezed Fredric.
“Who’s going to jump in and get it?”
“I would rather not if it can be helped,” said Ann.
“You know how easily I catch a cold..”
The siblings exchanged a meaningful glance, one that Phoebe didn’t understand the meaning of. Then, they both looked at Phoebe with high expectations.
“I, uh,” stammered Phoebe.
“I cannot swim. I’m sorry.”
This was true. After all, she’d never even had a chance to learn. And she was terrified of drowning in the deep. The darkness of the lake frightened her. One could never be certain of what lurked below.
A raindrop splashed on Phoebe’s forehead. She looked up – with all the foliage overhead the children hadn’t even noticed that the sky had gone completely gray. More raindrops followed, and within seconds a light drizzle became heavy rainfall. Fredric groaned.
“Great,” he said.
“I suppose we’ll just have to leave it, then. Maybe it’ll have floated to shore by tomorrow.”
Ann sighed. “We should hurry home. How did it start raining so suddenly again, anyway?”
As Ann and Fredric turned their backs to walk away, Phoebe remained by the water, staring out at the ball. This didn’t feel right to her, somehow – she didn’t want her friends to get in trouble because they couldn’t bring it back home.
Thus, she decided to take a risk. The girl’s eyes darted over to the siblings, to make sure they weren’t looking. And then, she bent the water of the lake to her will. A wave rose from the deep, and swiftly carried the ball to shore. She mouthed a silent thank you to Nayarithé, and picked it up with both hands.
“Are you coming, Phee?” asked Ann.
She glanced over her shoulder, and her eyes widened. The girl tugged at her brother’s soaked sleeve with a big smile on her face.
“What is it?” he said, evidently annoyed.
“Look!” said his sister, pointing at Phoebe.
Now Fredric’s eyes widened, too.
“Looks like you two aren’t going home empty-handed after all,” grinned Phoebe, presenting the ball.
Ann ran over to her, and hugged her tightly. This caught Phoebe entirely off-guard. In spite of the cold wetness of their clothes, she could still feel the girl’s warmth surrounding her like a blanket.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, Phee!” cheered Ann.
“You’re a saint, you know that?”
Phoebe’s cheeks flushed red. That funny feeling from before was back again. It made her giddy, and she couldn’t stop smiling. She wondered what it was. Could it be..?
“But how?” wondered Fredric.
“The ball was almost all the way in the middle of the lake the last time I looked a few moments ago.”
The white-haired girl’s heart stopped for a moment. She didn’t think this through, she realized. For just a moment, she considered just telling them both the truth – but something within her told her not to.
“Well, uhm, I..” she started.
Ann was looking directly at her from up close, innocently awaiting an answer. Fredric, on the other hand, stood across from her, at a distance. The judgment had made its way back into his eyes, piercing her defenses. Nervously, she looked around, desperately seeking an answer to his question in her surroundings. Her eyes landed on a boulder laying in the grass.
“I just improvised, and threw a big rock right behind the ball,” said Phoebe.
“It hit the side of it, and the ripples helped bring it back to shore. It was mostly luck, really!”
“Ahh, great thinking, Phee!” nodded Ann.
“I never would have thought of that so quickly!”
“Weird,” said Fredric, still not entirely satisfied.
“If you threw a big rock in the water, then why didn’t I hear it splash and sink?”
The witch’s heart was racing. She found herself unable to answer his question. Just before she could stammer something nonsensical out in a last ditch effort, Ann raised her voice.
“You probably just didn’t hear it because the rain is so loud,” she said.
“Haven’t you noticed that we’re practically yelling just to understand each other?”
Phoebe looked at her in surprise. Was the girl being honest, or was she just making up an excuse in her stead? Either way, she wished to thank her – though she obviously couldn’t, to avoid further suspicion. For just a few more moments, Fredric stared at them both with one raised eyebrow. Then, he groaned again.
“I guess that makes sense.”
He stepped over to Phoebe, and she handed him the ball.
“Let’s get out of here, I don’t want to get any more soaked than I have to,” said Fredric.
“Absolutely!” confirmed Ann.
“I have to go and get changed immediately.”
The siblings went ahead, and Phoebe stayed behind once again. Her heart was still pounding. By a hair’s width, she had managed to avoid being found out. A wet hand suddenly grabbed her own. It was Ann’s.
“Come along, Phee,” she smiled.
“Or did you want to stay out in the rain for a bit longer?”
“N-no,” stammered Phoebe, shaking her head.
Ann chuckled. “That’s what I thought, yes.”
Hand in hand, Ann and Phoebe followed Fredric through the forest, listening to the rain’s soft patter on the leaves above. As her heart slowly grew calmer, Phoebe took a deep breath. The smell of wet grass and pine needles filled the air. It felt peaceful, and right. She couldn’t help but smile.
-
Heavy rain poured down on the Aegis knights as they marched down the town’s empty streets. The cobblestone beneath their boots was slippery, and the humid air made it hard to breathe inside their helmets. Somehow, they felt as though they were being watched.
A bolt of lightning shot across the sky, chased by loud thunder, and Lucia flinched. She nearly lost her balance, but Umbra swiftly placed a hand on her back to steady her. A small troop followed behind the two. It occurred to Lucia that their group was the cause of these empty streets – not the rain.
“Halt,” said Umbra suddenly.
“This is the place.”
She pointed at a small, shabby house, as old as the streets of this town. It matched the description the castle guard had given them. Umbra turned her head to look at Lucia, seeking some form of confirmation. After a few silent, indecisive moments, Lucia simply nodded. Umbra took a deep breath, stepped up to the door, and knocked. But there was no response.
“Miss Taylor?” Umbra knocked one more time.
Still nothing. She decided to take a more direct approach.
“This is the Order of the Aegis, sent on royal orders,” she proclaimed.
“If you are at home, please open up the door so we will not need to break it.”
A few moments later, there was a sound of a key turning inside a lock, and the door opened with a creak. Behind it stood a short, old woman. Her face was kind, and her wrinkles told the tale of a life well-lived.
“You’ll have to excuse me, young lady knight,” she said warmly.
“My hearing is not what it used to be. Please, come inside.”
As they crossed the threshold of the woman’s home, a certain scent immediately darted into Umbra’s nostrils. It was vaguely familiar to her, though she had not smelled it many times before. Strangely sweet and lingering, it was the smell of a very old human. Witches didn’t smell like this, she knew.
She determined the woman’s age to be somewhere between sixty and seventy years, which meant she was nearing the end of her lifespan. As she thought this, a deep pit formed inside her stomach. It didn’t feel right to disturb someone so old, to invade her privacy like this.
To Lucia, it was nothing more than an unfamiliar, unpleasant smell. She didn’t know what it meant, and she didn’t know its origin. She saw the wrinkles on the woman’s face, but didn’t fully grasp their implications. All her life, she had hidden away from humans, and had avoided them as much as she could.
“Please, take a seat,” said Miss Taylor, pointing to two cushioned chairs in the center of the room.
“Ah, that won’t be necessary,” deflected Umbra.
“We won’t take too much of your time. Besides, I fear those wonderful chairs would only break under the weight of all this armor.”
The old woman chuckled. “Very well, then. At least take off your helmets, won’t you?”
Lucia and Umbra looked at each other for a moment, nodded, and then removed their helmets. The smell was stronger this way, but it felt good to be able to move their heads more freely.
“I see the rumors are true, then,” said Miss Taylor.
“So King Nathair has witches working for him, now?”
There was no judgment in her voice, no malice. She was asking out of pure curiosity.
“Indeed,” nodded Lucia.
“The Order of the Aegis is primarily composed of witches. I am their leader, Lucia Winterbottom.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Winterbottom,” acknowledged the old woman.
“And who might you be? Are you a witch as well?”
She was looking at Umbra, who quickly grew flustered.
“Me? Oh, uhm, n-no, I’m just–”
“This is Commander Umbra Valo,” intercepted Lucia.
“Her duty is the same as mine, but she is human. The king wished to maintain a balance, so we could control each other.”
A complete lie, of course. Umbra couldn’t help but marvel at Lucia’s silver tongue. She had never been that skilled at speaking and improvising. Though, as impressive as she found it, it was also somewhat frightening to her. She exchanged a quick glance with Lucia as a quiet sign of gratitude, and nodded.
“Yes. Precisely what she said. I am here to make sure the witch does not get any strange ideas.”
There was a sparkle in the old woman’s eyes.
“Fascinating,” she said.
“Tell me, dear commanders, do you trust each other?”
Again, Lucia and Umbra looked at one another. Memories of the night before shot into their minds unimpeded. Hastily, they faced the old woman again, trying their best not to seem embarrassed at this question.
“Yes. Totally, absolutely. I would say so, anyway,” nodded Lucia.
“W-well, we get along well enough, I’d, uh, say,” agreed Umbra almost simultaneously.
Miss Taylor laughed. “Say no more, I believe you.”
The commanders chuckled awkwardly, staring away from each other and at the ground.
“So,” said Miss Taylor.
“What brings the leading commanders of the Order of the Aegis to my home?”
For a moment, they had forgotten why they were here. Once more, reality crashed down on them like the cold rain outside. They took a moment to adjust to it, and Lucia decided to take charge for now.
“Some concerning reports have recently reached the castle,” she started.
“Regarding a group of potentially dangerous witches hiding in town.”
“Dangerous how?” wondered the old woman.
“We are.. not quite sure,” responded Lucia hesitantly.
A lump formed in her throat. The king had not told them anything at all. He hadn’t needed to. Lucia, pact-bound, was forced to obey either way. Underneath Irendaleth’s hollow, judgmental gaze, they had no choice but to push onwards.
For the good of witchkind, Lucia told herself.
For peace. For the future. For survival.
“It is assumed they are an insurgent group, looking to strike the empire’s order,” she said.
Another lie. Or an assumption, perhaps. Umbra had no way of knowing for sure. Unless the king had entrusted her with information that she was not aware of. The pit in her stomach grew deeper and deeper, reaching into an endless abyss.
“Oh my,” gasped the old woman.
“How terrible!”
Lucia nodded. She proceeded, ignoring the harrowing nausea developing inside her abdomen.
“Unfortunately, the reports point to your home as their hiding place,” she said.
“Do you know anything about this at all?”
“No, nothing!” Miss Taylor fiercely shook her head.
“I have no attic, no basement. There is nowhere to hide in here.”
Something small fell to the ground somewhere. Umbra heard it – it was muffled, like the sound had come from behind a wall somewhere in the house. She decided to keep it to herself, hoping that Lucia hadn’t heard it, too.
“Do you live by yourself?” continued the white-haired witch.
“Yes,” answered Miss Taylor.
“I’ve been alone ever since my husband passed away over a decade ago.”
Lucia clenched her teeth. She had heard the sound as well. She wished she hadn’t.
“There’s a lot of chairs in here for someone who lives alone,” she noted.
“Do you often get visitors?”
She was forcing the words out of her mouth. She wanted to abandon this interrogation, to simply walk away. But it was too late now. Her mind had already made a conclusion about the origin of that sound. She was just trying to stall for time, praying that whoever was back there, in the closed room in the corner behind the old woman, would find a way to escape before they could be found.
“Oh, yes,” nodded Miss Taylor.
“The neighbors, the Smiths, frequently come by for tea. Though not as often as they used to.”
Umbra saw Lucia’s eyes nervously shifting between the door in the corner and the old woman across from them. They both knew that whoever they were sent here to look for was likely hiding in that room. Before either of them had any chance to continue speaking to Miss Taylor about absolutely anything other than that damned door, another one of the knights raised their voice.
“Excuse me, Commander Winterbottom,” they said.
“But doesn’t that closed door behind the old woman strike you as suspicious?”
Lucia and Umbra’s hearts dropped to their feet. Both of them had silently hoped no-one would bring it up.
“That door?” asked Miss Taylor, pointing behind herself.
“That’s just my sewing room. I used to be a tailor, if you couldn’t tell from my name.”
The knight made their way to the door. However, Umbra stepped into their path.
“What are you doing?” she questioned.
“I am going to check inside the room,” responded the knight, slightly confused.
“Without orders from a commander?” hissed Umbra. She refused to budge.
“You are acting out of line.”
“Very well,” said the knight.
“Commander Winterbottom, may I have your permission to investigate the room?”
Umbra glanced over to her. Lucia hesitated, cold sweat running down her back. Inside her mind, she played out all possible outcomes of this situation. She despised every single one of them.
“Commander?” repeated the knight.
The white-haired witch took a deep, shaky breath, and curled both of her hands into fists. She knew she couldn’t choose to say no. Thus, she chose to close her eyes.
“Permission granted,” she exhaled.
Umbra was left speechless. As the knight pushed their way past her, the old woman raised her voice.
“There is really nothing in there! Just old garbs and fabric and tools for clothesmaking!”
The knight didn’t stop. They walked over to the door, grasped the knob, and pulled it open. When Lucia opened her eyes again, she saw Umbra’s disbelief, her revulsion. And past her, a group of cloaked and hooded people hiding within the darkened sewing room. They hadn’t managed to get out in time. Despair crept over Lucia’s soul.
“Ah, those are my apprentices!” The old woman began looking for excuses, for an escape after the fact.
“I sent you all home hours ago,” she said into the room.
“Why are you still here?”
“It’s alright, Miss Taylor,” said a woman’s voice from inside the room.
“There’s no point in trying to hide it now.”
Miss Taylor’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.”
The woman inside the room nodded at the group of five standing behind her. In unison, they raised their hands into the air, and slowly exited the room. The knights readied their weapons.
“Stand down,” commanded Lucia.
“They are unarmed.”
“Certainly, and yet they are witches like us,” said one of the knights.
“They do not need to be armed to be dangerous.”
With several spearheads pointed at them, the six witches stepped towards the commanders. The same woman from before took a few steps closer towards Lucia.
“We mean no harm,” she said.
“You have us outnumbered, either way.”
Umbra shot a fierce look at the knights, and they lowered their weapons. Glowing blue eyes shimmered beneath the witches’ hoods. The leading woman’s carried no fear within them. It was as though she herself had become a shield to protect those behind her.
“Who are you?” asked Lucia. She didn’t know what else to do.
“We are embers,” said the woman.
“Sons and daughters of ash and ruin.”
She removed her hood, and the others followed suit. Lucia suppressed a gasp of shock – each and every single one of them was branded by terrible burn scars. The cloaks didn’t reveal much, but she could see them sprawling out from their necks down and on their arms.
Their white hair and blue eyes marked all of them as witches of the old blood. It didn’t take any words for everyone in the room to understand what had happened to them.
“My name is Celia Galahad, and these are my brothers and sisters,” said the woman up front.
Her skin wore the gravest scars of all. The right half of her face had been devoured and spat out by raging flames, leaving her eye dulled and reddened.
“All we wish for is peace.”
The lump in Lucia’s throat choked her half to death. She didn’t know what to do. She had orders, she knew, orders that she couldn’t refuse if she wished to protect the entirety of witchkind. It didn’t help. She couldn’t weigh the lives of the few against the lives of the many. In this situation, at this point in time, she longed for nothing more than a way out, a way to revert the oath. But there wasn’t one.
Umbra observed her silent reluctance, perceived her turmoil. For a moment, she considered attempting to cut down the knights and release the witches. It was the only way to save them from whatever judgment the king was going to pass. But she knew she wouldn’t stand a chance. The terror of inevitability consumed her, and froze her in place.
“You will have to follow us back to the castle,” said Lucia.
Her eyes were shut again.
She couldn’t stand to look at them.
She couldn’t look at their faces as she spoke the words that would seal their fates.
She wished to stab her own sword into her gut, to rip herself wide open.
But she didn’t.
All she did was stand there with her eyes closed.
Waiting for the moment to pass.
She was a coward.
A worthless coward.
She had given up her ability to choose, her own free will.
All because she had longed for an easy way out.
It dawned on her now.
That there wasn’t one.
That there had never been one.
That there never would be one.
That she would walk a path built on innocent blood for the rest of her eternal life.
That she was not in control.
That everything she would say and do would forever depend on the whims of mankind.
That the entire future of witchkind would forever depend on the whims of mankind.
She had willingly turned herself into an undying weapon with no autonomy.
All for the promise of an easy way out.
There was no easy way out.
And perhaps there was no way out at all.