A Blade and Her Witch

Home is Where it's Safe to Cry (Witch)

Content Warnings:

 

Any other night I’d scour this wonderful place from top to bottom. Walk up to each of these Geists and ask them all manner of questions. Delve into the subconscious thoughts of this mad gerlthing to try and understand all her nonsense.

But… not today. Right now I need to just… find safety from the nightmares that horrid Tone dredged up.

And of course this cute manifestation’s first words have me stunned to silence. Because, yes the gerlthing was serious, and had it ask, “Do you want to be held tonight?”

I… I’ve not tried to sleep alone for years. Not since finding my own Doll to accompany on all my outings. In my youth it was to satisfy the hungers of a gerl starved of such affections until the Old Cunt first took me to bed. And after she was gone from my life…

Well… the nightmares started. And waking up alone would have ruined me.

But here? Now? 

Cracked and Riven Moon this was a bad idea. What if those wretched things somehow follow me here? Or… or worse infect Xafra? Gifting that gerlthing even an ounce of my nonsense?

“No.” I reply, turning to head up the stairs as I murmur quietly to myself. “Best to face the Moonshite alone.”

The rooms are foreign but comforting. The odd smell of a past beyond my imaginings and trappings is so… peculiar. The bed is soft though, in only the way a Dream built thing can be. And then… nothing.

Endless nothings. 

I know I slept a long while, and I think that’s what startles me to waking. My weaving tuned to give me the most efficient amount before releasing me from expected torments. But… without them…

“Am I still asleep?” I whisper, reaching for my Ousia and Physis. The most sure way I can jerk myself free if I think to try during these kinds of moments.

But… It’s all there and warded and still bonded well to this mildly distant Blade and Doll.

Physis is full, which is nice. Meaning the Soul Rot should be quiet today unless I start tossing around big workings. Ousia though… It’s fine. Honestly. I should know better than to check. Will just fill me with annoyance.

So I let my eyes open, and… Well of course I’m still in Xafra’s Driftdream. And waking from that is easier than I expected, as I backtrack through the village and find myself rising to the world once more. I am greeted by Schatzi who has changed into her formal servant robes with Xafra slung across her back, attached via a diagonal belt fed through a leather sleeve.

"Good Morning, Mistress. This one hopes you slept well."

"I did, to my surprise." I murmur, taking a few heartbeats to consider my physical state. “Anything interesting happen while I was under?”

Burned and Ruined Groves, is the sudden rush of natural energy a delight to feel after days of burning my spells of motion. Wonderfully impressive workings, to be sure, but… costly when used like I had.

"Miss Xafra decided once more to... find something to do while you rested. While I was quite perturbed at her and my dear sister Verbess, they have shown that Miss Xafra is indeed a being of many talents. She has freed one of your mentor's Dolls without damaging them further."

Both these revelations cause me to freeze.

Verbess? Not… not Defect? The foolish thing actually settled on something sensible? And… hmm… an adjustment of one of the old words for ‘improving’ or ‘to improve’. Sounds like Schatzi’s idea, but… Oh Cracked and Riven Moon, did it probably squirm to agree to that. 

“Ah.” I nod, keeping myself composed and working extra hard to keep this bothersome tether filled with nothing but enthralled curiosity. “I take it that one’s asleep then? Your sister?”

Laughter comes across the bond from Xafra. [No, we're both still in trouble until you decide otherwise, Mistress.]

And awake? That’s… A pit of worry touches my gut at that. Carefully stopped from leaking into our bond, of course. But there are just as many horrid implications of keeping that one awake as good ones.

“Well, then that makes this easier.” I nod and look directly into their eyes. While Canting a firm ::Patience/Curiosity/Inquiry:: then speaking softly. “I said I’d not pester you about this, and won’t if you're still deciding, but before I will use this name I’d like to hear it from you.” 

A pause, and even without cracking the fangs free the elder replies. “Yes, Mistress. If you approve of this name, Verbess, I would have you call me by it.”

::Approval/Delight/Pride:: Is my immediate response before even words rise to my lips. “It fits you, dear one. Marvelously so.”

And Verbess, half of this wonderful Doll of mine, writhes in confliction and relief and so much more even it cannot understand. Especially with all that weariness it’s bearing. 

Can’t honestly… No. No, I CAN remember the last time it needed to remain awake this long. Normally I gift it a command to help it settle into a deep rest after this but…

“Now, for the hard part.” I sigh and let my annoyance drip down the tether. “Was my command unclear? Do I misremember telling a very specific gerlthing in this room to let me handle Her Gerls? Was I too vague?”

[You were clear. Completely so.] Xafra responds neutrally.

"Good, at least my memory still serves." I nod. "So, Schatzi dear, you said she didn't at least damage it. That's good. Is it... At what phase of the spiral is it in now?"

Schatzi hesitates, and Xafra quickly replies. [None. It did not spiral. It wept and was confused, but after about an hour, with Schatzi's help, it calmed, though it is a bit lost and wanting a new Purpose.]

I quirk an eyebrow at that, Cant ::Interest/Patience:: to Xafra, and turn to deliberately eye my Doll. "When did she first cut the Garrote off the poor thing? How long do you think we have until it falls apart?"

"Mistress, Miss Xafra did not cut the Garrote off. She... to use her own words, 'wet the clay once more, and slipped it free'. I don't know what’s going to happen."

Wet the… a full re-weaving of the Doll? But… I’d not had the chance to share any of the Tomes or principles of that art with Xafra. Only really knew what I did from my own efforts, and decided it best to simply… use the same spinning I’d turned on my mentor.

"Alright, let's get me dressed, and you'll take us to it." I move to stand. "And at least tell me you've kept this one separated from the gaggle?"

"Yes, Mistress, Verbess took the initiative to do so before rousing me."

Well at least the elder had some sense in this foolish little project of Xafra’s.

Once I’m dressed, Schatzi leads me to the Spire they decided to store her in. One of our old workshops and storage ones. And inside, piddling about and seeing to organizing the impossible mess my mentor loved to leave behind for her Gerls to figure out, is the Doll.

And she seems… well… with a huff of a sigh I finally admit out loud. “Honestly if you’d not told me, I’d have thought her a passing fancy of the Old Cunt. Never touched by her Garrote or will. But since you have…”

The Doll, sitting on one of the old cushions while I’d examine her, takes up such a frown at my insult of her Mistress. “Floret Lynette! You… You shouldn’t say such things!”

Ah, there it is then. That old devotion. And of course at that old wretched name a sourness in my gut spikes as I ignore her and turn to my Dolls and Blade, Adjust back to using the tether to commune while we’re about the grounds. {I’d like to know what possessed you to try this before I woke up. Did Verbess or Schatzi describe my attempts at helping them to be so pathetic that they weren’t even worth the effort to ask about?}

Schatzi spins and rebukes the Doll with a snap. "Call her Witch Elevar or hold your tongue. She doesn't use that name anymore, nor that title."

[They did not mention your attempts in the slightest, Mistress Elevar. I saw it while at the balcony with Verbess and had to act.] Xafra intones.

The old familiar bitterness wells up.

I never really cared for Dollcraft like my mentor. Only even tried to understand the art to both repair and maintain my own Doll, and then to try and help these Dolls. Using everything I knew about the Garrote alongside her wretched journals and blueprints even to try and free them. And… and it never worked. Even drowning them in the Tone after carefully removing her old tethers just… just… 

I hear the Doll reel, sputtering and blubbering a bit during our quiet exchanges. But eventually it manages to whisper a clear, “A– apologies. Witch Elevar.”

That causes all my rising bitterness to fall to pieces, making me turn back to stare at the Doll. “Schatzi… How many times have you had to tell it that today?”

They… that was always the hardest part. As they wailed and screamed and begged and cursed me for freeing them, they… they never used that name but with hard and furious commands dripping with my Tone and anger. Within minutes they would either forget or scold me for lying.

"This was the first time. Miss Xafra asked that we explicitly avoid discussing you without you present after I had mentioned a little bit about your mentor."

If my bitterness was in pieces, now it is dissolved into useless vapors.

“Right now. At this exact moment, who is your Mistress, little one?” I whisper softly to the Doll.  

Bracing for the name I expect her to cry out for.

The poor thing bites her lip, eyes dancing between myself and Schatzi. “I… I don’t know. I think she… she’s…” And then she’s in pieces. Weeping softly and quietly.

Not in denial. But In grief she's accepted and holds close! Like I’ve seen any other Doll do at the sudden and tragic loss of their beloved Mistress.

Xafra did it? She freed one of the Old Cunt’s Dolls from the Garrote without its mind spiraling into unavoidable despair I could never stop. Even... even after I agreed to work with that Old Cunt's Passing Flame on a few. An expert and visionary, lauded as the current Matron of Dollcraft, could only grind her teeth as the Dolls fell to disfunction.

{Explain your method.} Is all I can intone to them through the tether I hold still and devoid of the mess I’m fighting to quiet. {If you please.}

[I learned it freeing Häuslich.] She expresses the word like a slur, [Killed over three dozen before I grasped the method of claiming the Ousia signature of the controller first and using that to unweave it. For humans, I couldn't do much to repair the mental damage. Had to kill them afterwards half the time, but with Dolls? They are flesh of my flesh and as such malleable as my own simulated forms to me once I have the needed tools, so I was completely confident in my ability.]

{Sympathetic links since both are formed from will turned solid via Ousia?} I nod, falling into the familiar considerations of almost mathematical workings. {That would explain why neither I nor the best Artisan of the craft could figure out how to fix them. The Garrote could not just be removed, but needed replacing. The gaps filled. That would… honestly explain a lot about my struggles with it. Dolls are, with the exception of these two and their like,} I nod toward Schatzi and Verbess, {stubborn in their forms. Once they have a shell they like, changing it drowns them in dysphoria. And this lot, when free of the Garrote the Old Cunt addicted them to, seem to associate it with their ideal form. So that still doesn’t explain how you helped her accept the changes. How did you still her mind?}

[I have been effectively alone for a long long time. I gifted it a sliver of myself without obligation, the Stillness accrued over ages.] 

"She mentioned that she did not remove or alter any memories. That may have been a part of it as well." Schatzi adds.

I sigh, let a little annoyance touch the tether. {That… Makes less sense to me, and would have been my second guess as to why this seems to be taking. Somehow removing all the right memories and subsequent triggers. But… no. Just…}

A Sympathetic link. Kindness performed by one who sees it as kin.

{An odd solution. Phrased horribly, mind you, but your results speak for themselves.} I nod and stand from the stool I was sitting on. {Give it say… a week. Record its changes, chart the Doll’s demeanor and such. Do this properly and you’ll have my leave to try this on a few more. But not at random, Cracked and Riven Moon, Xafra. You could have stumbled into unleashing something nasty on our heads.}

[If it failed I would have simply destroyed it. Better to be consigned to oblivion than exist in unwilling bondage.]

{And if you couldn’t?} I move to head downstairs. Willing to unlock this Spire fully with a bit of blood and Ousia for Xafra’s use. {Kill it, I mean.}

[Do you mean in a practical sense or emotional?]

{Both.} I respond as the shell of the front entrance falls away and I tune this Spire to Xafra’s ambient auras I can easily match from the tether. {There. This Spire is yours now. It’ll let you and Schatzi and Verbess enter at your leisure.} 

Xafra clearly tries and fails to hold it back, but distress and fear leak through the bond in a sudden and hard rush. [I'm sorry. Please don't. I won't act without orders again.]

Her sudden jolt of emotions nearly causes me to stumble, and I glance back to regard her iron form. {Please don't what?}

[Don't abandon me. I'll behave. Please. Please. I'm sorry.]

Everything… tilts a bit. And I can’t help but feel such a wash of pity as I step back to them. Catching the shape of her terror as I murmur. “Pass Xafra to me please, Schatzi dear.”

She obeys, and I take Xafra’s Iron form. Set it to be cradled in my left arm.

{I’m not.} I intone softly. Letting the tether pulse with nothing but the enjoyment I have at feeling her perfect weight in my arm. {My mentor she… she gifted me a safe place to make all sorts of foolish mistakes as my projects grew more ambitious. That’s all this is. I’d rather not have the Dolls wailing in my Spire, so I’m giving you this one. To use or ignore at your leisure.}

[I'm... Still allowed to be around you?] She asks carefully.

Stupid Half-Knit. I should have realized this. To her, a space to call her own is much like the Archives. A prison. 

{Yes. Anytime.} Is my immediate reply. {I’m not punishing you yet, Xafra. This Spire comes with a promise of freedom and trust, not abandonment. And the more Dolls you free, the more willing gerls you’ll have to spare the time to move you about.}

[I've... Never had my own space.] My blade considers, the sense of her composing herself once more is near tangible. [Thank you. I appreciate the trust. Sorry for being so embarrassing. If we can switch gears, as it were, I wanted to know if you wished me to begin development of the replaced bones right away?]

{You’re welcome. No need for apologies or embarrassment on that. It was thoughtless of me to not consider the way such a thing would be interpreted in the context of our conversation and my own demeanor.} I assure Xafra as I consider her offer. {And… Yes. If it's still feasible with the amount of Ousia you gathered from the jungle. You may begin your work on that as well. Albeit with a few limitations and stipulations...}

[Alright. I am at your service.]

{Firstly, you’re going to treat everything you do here as proper research.} I demand. {That means both writing down your own findings, and spending a decent amount of time reading up on others' discoveries. Just your revelations on the Seelenfäule alone is the breakthrough of the century, and your ability to free one of my mentor’s Dolls from the Garrote would have her shitting blood. So, you’re going to record this all down and frame it so anyone familiar with either can understand all the specifics of both discoveries. Agreed?} 

[May I have consent to dictate to another? It would slow and tax me tremendously to have to shift in order to record the results.]

The rustling from the stairs behind is, honestly, perfect timing.

{Of course, which leads me to my next requirement.} I turn to regard the meek Doll peeking at us from the shadows at the stairs. Its eyes go wide in worry as I spot it, biting her lip even but… she doesn’t scurry off.

“Dear, come down here please.” I call out to it, and with such a meep of surprise the poor thing scurries to obey.

“Y– yes Fl– Witch Elevar?” She stammers, halting just shy of Schatzi.

{This one is yours.} I intone to Xafra. {It, like all the others here save Schatzi and Verbess, are not to leave the Estate. But within those confines, it belongs to you.} 

With a rush of psychotic delight, my weapon shifts in my grasp to stand holding my hand beside me. "Young one, I've been told that you are mine now. Are you willing to serve?"

And… Naked. Apparently, just like the blood and tatters on the attire I’ve seen before, changes like that stick between shiftings. I observe both that detail and others across her form, only just managing to stop my own obvious interest from leaking into our bond.

The Doll’s eyes go wide. Both in surprise at the shifting of weapon to stark naked gerlthing, and Xafra’s demand. “I– B– but…” 

This is important. Both for my Blade and this Doll. If it can just… accept a new Mistress like this, find purpose in another’s service…

It shuffles, swallows. And the hope and desires that blossom at being claimed once again wash over it like the deadliest summer storm. “Y– yes. Please don’t leave this one alone again. Please? Mistress?”

Well… by the Cracked and Riven Moon. There it is then.

Schatzi coughs politely and states, "Miss Xafra, you are undressed." 

"Huh. So I am." Xafra observes, then looks to her new Doll, "Well then, Primrose, your first task is to acquire me a pair of trousers... And a breast band I guess. We can formalize our connection when I am sufficiently presentable."

Xafra’s new Doll sputters. Not at the command for clothing, that’s the easy part. But… a name? Primrose’s eyes bubble up at that, and my own guilt and shame very nearly shove me off my feet as I realize just what my mentor denied these gerls by never naming her Dolls.

“Thank you! Right away!” She manages and begins to rush about. The memory of this old workshop Spire’s spare rooms and dressers full of clothing eventually return to it, and we all get to watch it disappear down into the lower chambers.

The second Primrose is out of sight, Xafra drops to one knee in front of me and bows her head. "Mistress, are you sure about this? This... Is more than I've ever been given in all my years."

I consider her for a few heartbeats, then move up to gently curl fingers through her soft mess of hair as she kneels. “Such a shame, honestly. You’re too clever by half, when you let yourself be. Willful but… in all the best ways. You and Verbess aren’t free from my displeasure but… neither acted out of malice or distrust. Simply an eagerness that needs to be tempered with caution. This is that.” Then I reach down to prompt her to tilt up and meet my gaze, and as her eyes lock with mine I murmur softly. “Had you simply waited. Explored with Verbess and come to me with wicked schemes befitting you… Well… There are so many more Dolls here that would adore your attentions and will thrive under your care. And you would have had your pick of the lot. But as it is..."

I pull back and sigh, counting on the same hand while dipping the tether into almost empathetic boredom. "You now need to spend a week performing all sorts of dull tasks. Cleaning and setting up a workspace while researching the Seelenfäule and Garrote. Studying this single Doll's recovery. And, more importantly, not enjoying your Mistress's rewards until that's all done and settled. Such. A. Shame." 

Confusion wars with overwhelming appreciation. "Mistress... I don't understand. You're treating me better than anyone has before. Space to call my own, Time to do research, Family, a Name, I… Cannot imagine what kind of reward you could be speaking of. I don't think... I deserve even this much. I probably... should be punished more for my transgressions."

“Oh?” I fight so hard to strangle what would have been a wash of pity into a pause of gentle considerations. 

"I'm scared.” She replies. “Worried that I'm still dreaming, simply finally bereft of the sanity that I scraped together. If I am, let me die before I wake, dear Dämmerung, I don't think I could bear it."

I purse my lips and look past Xafra to Schatzi. “Would you mind terribly going to make sure Primrose takes sufficient time in its selections? I worry it may rush.”

"Of course, Mistress." Then, with a knowing look at Xafra, she departs.

When my Doll is gone, and we’re alone, I move to sit before my kneeling weapon. Pausing to consider… Yes. Even if this cracks the shell and boils up the bile I’ve been holding back, she needs this. Needs to understand.

“What transgressions?” I ask firmly but softly. 

"I upset you. Acted without orders. Pushed you into accepting help." Xafra's voice drops to a whisper. "I acted like a person when I should know better."

“Ah.” I nod. “Well there lies the problem, Xafra. What do you want to be?”

“Yours. Your weapon. Your Partner.”

“Well, You seem like a person to me. And if that's what my Partner wants to be… then she should keep doing that." I reply with a much more gentle tone.

A pause, like a heartbeat midway between the crack of lightning and the rolling thunder that always follows, then… something begins to bubble up from Xafra’s left eye as her everything else goes stiff. Dark and almost viscous it seems to fight to remain within. But then Xafra makes the ancient mistake probably foreign to her reflexes and tries to blink it away.

And of course, that breaks the bloody teardrop free. Allowing it to dribble and streak down her cheek in slow spite for the gerlthing trying so hard to hold it back. Even summons more to follow from both eyes in an almost reckless gush that gouges stark scarlet furrows down both cheeks against her pale skin.

No tears it would seem. Not for the blade who it already costs so much to walk on her own. She probably considers it an inefficient use of her already precious reserves. So when something cuts her deep enough, it would seem, all she has prepared for the event is her own blood.

::Empathy/Sorrow/Obligationless Offering/Embrace:: I Cant while giving the tether the most gentle of tugs. As one might pull on an arm or the edge of a shirt of the one they think needs to feel another’s warm embrace but… do not wish to force the contact.

She collapses, dropping her hands to the ground, bumping her head gently into me. [Thank you. Thank you.]

{Of course, my Xafra.} I intone back. Returning the pressure she's offering but no more as I rest hands on my knees, palms up in patient unexpectant offerings to her if she needs them. "And... let me be the first to welcome you home, for as long as you would like to claim it as such."

 

 

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Lamentations of The Dead Dreamer

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