A Blade and Her Witch

Cracking Visitors and Unexpected Voids (Witch)

Content Warnings:

 

<I think at this point our need for more proof is quite… redundant.> Lynette intones gently as she shows me another report dredged up from the Estate’s Archives.

 

She’s softened so much these past… How long have I gone without proper sleep? I know it’s been at least one or two since our trip into Verbess’ Dream but…

 

<Three days, Sorry. Not trying to spy but you’re leaking quite a bit at this point…>

 

I sigh and let myself chuckle. “It’s worth it, and our sleep deprived mind’s always gifted us considerations we’d otherwise miss. And we’re so close. I can feel it.”

 

And all my gerls have slept and rested so well in this time. I mean to give them twice that, even if we’re ready to remove the Garrote. Let my own body rest before taking on the real work and troubling them to come and aid.

 

<Quite. But you really do need rest, dear. Give me another few hours of our mind and hands, alongside the Ousia needed to interact with the Gemstones, and I’ll have it open before you wake up.>

 

I go still. It’s… Physis is one thing but Ousia another. Letting her gain access to that while I even relax is…

 

She sighs. <I won’t be offended if you simply say no, that you’d still rather supervise my interactions with your Ousia.>

 

“I… Yes. I would. Sorry. ” I murmur, shoving down the guilt.

 

<None of that, Elevar.> Lynette murmurs. <That was… carelessly spoken. I did not expect you to be open to the removal of this binding in so short a time, and am still grappling with the amount of trust you are suddenly comfortable with.>

 

“Thank you. I know things will need to shift once it is unwoven but… appreciate your understanding now.” I whisper. “I’d… I’d like to see you in ways similar to how Schatzi insisted. Part of me yet… separate. This… You deserve freedom. The ability to feel flesh unbound by my fears and cruel views on you.”

 

<Elevar…>

 

“No. Lynette, I… between all this I’ve finally decided to take Xafra’s perspective on this.” I press. “You’re not who I was, and never will be. You’re… this flesh and memories are yours too, of course. But… but there is so much about you that I never had. That… that maybe even makes me think that I…”

 

Trail off. Don’t know how to grapple with this wordless hope that bites like my worst fears.

 

<Elevar.> Lynette snaps. <This needs to wait… We have a guest.>

 

“Oh.” I sigh, and nod. Glad for the distraction. “You can send them up. Who is it?”

 

<No. Not at our Spire, on the Root Way.>

 

Blood turns to ice at that.

 

“But we should still have weeks, at least.” I hiss, snatching up the needle and moving to the balcony to stare out over the Thorn wall. “Cracked and Riven Moon. How many?”

 

A pause.

 

<One.>

 

“I… A forward Envoy? Scout?” I ask.

 

<No idea. The Estate’s senses are muddled out that far. But… definitely a Witch or…>

 

“A Thresher, more like.” I growl. “No muppets though?”

 

<Not tugged behind, no.> Lynette intones. <Which is… odd.>

 

“Could they be one of the Sun-Blessed? Venturing here early?”

 

<I would like to say not but… There is a history of sneaky sorts from their ilk that can fool the Estate when at the edges of its visions.>

 

“Alright. Let’s call up the Pack and see what they think.”

 

{Xafra, dear. Apologies but we have an odd situation.} I reach out and begin moving through my Spire. Taking up more sturdy clothes and even my pouch of preserved Bone Marrow out of familiar comfort. {We have a guest approaching the Estate from along the Root Way. Lynette thinks it either a Witch, Thresher, or Sun-Blessed. But can’t be certain. Gather the Pack in the main floor of my Spire so we can discuss the best option for meeting this unexpected visitor.}

 

The response is swift as I feel Xafra and my Dolls snap from groggy pleasure to aggressive readiness. [Mistress? Ah... We will be there momentarily.]

 

I do end up taking a moment to clean my face and organize my thoughts, try to seem the well-put together Witch I'll need to be for this, before heading down to find them all waiting. "So... We still have time before this individual reaches the Roots that allow introductions and requests to be sent in, but Lynette is still only sensing one set of legs. Decent Ousia reserves, but... not full or unused. Which means we're dealing with some manner of Witch or such. Even chance they're a Thresher sent as a forward Envoy but... that seems an odd choice and a great way to get some poor fool killed for the insult. And... from our encounter with Krelliva I'm not tossing out the possibility of this being a Sun-Blessed."

 

"Alright. Um… This one is not used to whatever passed for standard procedure but are we... going for a quick kill if we identify them as a Thresher, or capture? And if they're a Sun-blessed, This one assumes we are to be diplomatic? But if they're a regular Witch, what... do we do? We're trying to make allies, but also not show our hand too early, yes?" Adaline rattles out, tightly bracketed by Verbess and Xafra.

 

"Talk first, of course." I agree with her. "If we kill any messengers who wander out here, especially a Thresher, it could fuddle the eventual meeting with the Groves. The real question is..." Looking to Xafra I consider aloud, "They know this place has some manner of Combat Dolls, and the Quill-Song will be seen as a Quirk of their Function, but your Ousia will cause problems. When I first sensed you in the Archive I couldn't tell that you were separate until the bug holding you died. So... if you stand close it should just seem an extension of myself out onto you. Odd but not horrifically so."

 

Xafra nods and... Does something, flexing her Ousia and Physis inwards like how Lynette reached through into the Driftdream and I realize that it's no longer noticeable at all, her Frame form lacking any hint of the power she contains. "I've been practicing this over the last few days. Adaline gave this o— Me the idea."

 

I smirk, Canting ::Pride/Delight/Curiosity:: while I double and triple check her work. "Oh isn't that terrifying? Good work. This solves at least three worries I'd thought we'd have to balance. But... just to make sure we're all on the same page, and excuse my resorting to old phrases, you're to all defend and guard first and foremost. Your Witch, yes, but more so each other. Only attack if I call for it. Even if this fool tosses some nasty magic at me. My wards were Knit to counter anything but spitefully clever workings. Thresher Garrotes and worse will slip off and my Ousia will burn on its own to restore them."

 

<Was that a near slip into Doll identifiers?> Lynette muses while watching Root Way, <Too much time Harmonizing with the Pack?>

 

{Most likely. I'll check on her once this mess is handled.}

 

"And if you are rendered unconscious or otherwise unable to communicate?" Xafra clarifies.

 

"Hah. Then we're probably Cracked." I cackle, exhaustion bubbling up in a way that takes me a second to recover from and add. "Sorry. Just... pull me back and don't Negate things coming from the Estate. Only pounce if they somehow manage to... No. Not even then. If they somehow do manage what you just mentioned AND drag me a Grove Span down the Root Way then you're free to handle them and me however you like. But otherwise remain what you will seem to them. Defensive Combat Dolls given strict commands to guard me within the confines of the Estate. Unable to leave our meeting place due to old Oaths and Agreements."

 

"Mistress..." Verbess intones softly, brimming with worry at that.

 

"I'm not the fragile mess I was when last I walked from this place. If anyone can hit my reinforced wards fast and hard enough to shatter them and knock my head spinning then we've greatly overestimated ourselves and should probably take another decade to consider our future plans anyway." I shrug. "And... fine. A third of a Grove Span drug away from you all. Then consider yourselves free to alter these plans and make your own foolish choices in this with my full support."

 

"Thank you. That is more than reasonable. Verbess, as Streethverk, you're in charge for this mission until the Mistress declares it complete. Krahe, Warden, Schatzi, all three of you stay submerged but alert for any issues. Adaline, do not use your arsenal unless explicitly instructed, stay directly behind the Mistress in case we need to emergency evacuate her. Voice communication or Pack bond only unless the Mistress says otherwise." Xafra recites instructions rapidly as I feel a change in the Pack. 

 

<Combat Protocols Online... Verbess Elevated to Temporary Pack Lead.>

 

Verbess thrums an <Accepted> and we wait for what feels like an Eternity before...

 

<Hm... Alright. They've requested an audience with either the Blossom or Floret. Nothing else.> Lynette intones. <Shall we?>

 

"They've asked to meet, but given no names." I tell the Pack. "Stick close."

 

And we move. Verbess to my left, Xafra on my right, and Adaline flanking. Each of them in the graceful motion befitting a hunting Pack. It's wonderful to not feel the Thornwall's sting and Ousia cost, simply able to watch it peel back and reveal the enclosed tunnel of the hollowed out Root. Even better to already see the little Physis laden plants already glowing to guide our path up.

 

The Chambers for meeting are in a bloated section about a hundred paces along. A garden with all manner of roots woven up to form chairs that encircle a large table shaped to mimic the map of the Grove controlled areas. ceiling not open but, with a few openings to let in the Suns' light. And standing past it all, wrapped in hard leather studded in bone and nasty looking teeth, is a Thresher.

 

Tall, hair cut very short, sharp features, one of their kind's hook gripped in her left hand as cold gray eyes pass over the Pack before settling on me and... and...

 

I speak a name, honestly more out of surprise, and of course the fool boy can't hide the twitch in his eye and lip. 

 

<Wait, THAT'S...?> Lynette purrs in delight.

 

Verbess' hackles rise a touch as Quills dance in careful recognition. 

 

{Yes, but we... we didn't...}

 

"Elevar." He very nearly growls.

 

"Sorry, I... Cracked and Riven Moon." I sigh, pushing the needle into its back hip holster and trying to give him a soft smile. "I didn’t honestly expect to see you. Not... not before my end."

 

"Neither did I." He replies coldly, adjusting his grip on the hook. Anger is still very obvious in his stance and regard toward me.

 

I glance back between my gerls. "Stand down, if you please."

 

Xafra takes the lead, pulling out chairs for him and myself to sit, before kneeling to one side of my chair.

 

He doesn’t move. Only glares at me with slowly rising anger. 

 

"Did you finally settle on a new name?” I say carefully while taking a seat, Canting ::Appreciation:: to Xafra. “Last we spoke you didn't prefer your first and were considering taking up one for more… private relationships?"

 

“I didn’t. And our relationship should never have been private.” He answers, voice still cold and guarded.

 

“It should have been all manner of things, but private wouldn’t strike me as one of its flaws.” I tilt my head. “But… You’re more furious at me than you’ve ever been. Rightfully so, most like, but… that doesn’t explain why you're here…”

 

“Because, you said you’d changed.” He snaps, adjusts grip on that hook. “Took the name Elevar to avoid old temptations. Were trying to help people you set to drown get back to the shore.”

 

Oh. Well… Me taking up the Old Cunt’s title and Estate would seem a fair contradiction to my old words to him.

 

“It’s… I didn’t want…” I huff to hide my grimace. “Things got complicated. As they always do. But… the spirit of my promises still hold true. The Old Cunt left me quite the mess to manage and...”

 

He shakes his head, glances between Xafra and Adaline before letting gaze fall upon the much more imposing shape of Verbess and the Quills that pulse in equal warning to this Thresher’s anger.

 

“No. No more lies.” He growls, eyes darting back to mine. “You’ve not changed. Three Witches follow-up to investigate a sighting of your Combat Doll and you just… slaughter them. Right there in plain view of everyone. Use some new working and… and even the Seelenfäule was a lie. Wasn’t it?”

 

I go still. Three Witches? What? “What? No. It… I’ve not killed anyone since…”

 

“Salzige, Elevar!” He snaps, raises that wretched hook to slam it down into the table after rolling a step forward. Letting it stand upright as he shakes with rage. “Mundanes remember names, you cunt. And their blood is on my hands for not hooking and dragging you in to face my Captains the day you told me Yselda was dead!”

 

The room goes quiet as I absorb that. Understand what brought him here. Why is he so very angry with me…

 

"I... I made a mistake." I whisper carefully, making a split second decision. "They... they all started using their Witch Tones on my Doll and I'd be practicing a new Bonding method on them and... I panicked. Lashed out with a broken version of my Einwandfrei. Then ran. But I'll stand by my decision. They had no right to demand anything of me. I regret the outcome but will not dispute my right to defend myself or my Doll."

 

"You didn't even tell them you were Yselda's Floret." He snarls. "They would have had to let you go after–"

 

"After revealing to their Matron the past and identity of Elevar? No. I'd rather be able to travel in peace, thank you." I cut him off, and add to the lie. "And I've been keeping to the fringes. Salzige hosts Witches, but is not within a Grove's sway. They had no right to harass me."

 

He glares. "So you kill them. They die for your privacy?"

 

I nod. "If they seek to invade it, yes. Such is a Witch's right."

 

He glares for thirteen heartbeats, both knuckles resting on the edges of the table while he looms over the hook buried into it.

 

"This one is really sorry!" Schatzi cries out, my Doll’s Frame jerking itself into her ideal shape as she steps forward. "Sister Verbess and I were struggling and it just all went wrong really fast, and we had to get back to get fixed up and we found a cure in the Archive but it was messy and bad but but BUT! Adaline is free as well now too, see? She's my sister now too."

 

"You..." He glances between us, glare softening a little. "You named your Dolls?"

 

I take up Schatzi's hand beneath the table and give it a little squeeze while Canting ::Love/Gratitude:: to her. "These two honestly named themselves. I just... stopped being a cunt and respected their choices."

 

He carefully nods past me to Adaline. "And that one, she's Yselda's last Doll? The broken one that was stuck in her old Spire?"

 

I wince at how much I told him. How he might...

 

"You let the Matron of Dollcraft back into this place?" His expression goes hard again. "What did her... services cost, Elevar?"

 

"Nothing!" I exclaim. "I didn't... I found another way. And... and got cured of the Soul Rot the day after."

 

Adaline steps forward, understanding the part that Schatzi prepared for her. "My Mistress freed me. You may not be aware, but before my... conversion, I was considered a prodigy in the Witch Arts, and I gave my Einwandfrei, the one that I spent years working on, to Wife Elevar. Because I knew something none of you conceited Groveborn Witches did. The Soul Rot is just Moonwaste in the water supply. With proper application of alchemy and a single day of surgery, it can be removed from the body entirely."

 

Adaline puts a hand on the table and leans in at him. "Now. Take the hook out of the table and sit down, or you'll learn first hand the horrors that Yselda built into this Frame."

 

He glares, anger rising then… pauses. Looks between us like he’s waiting for something.

 

But I remain silent, quirking a curious eyebrow to him.

 

“You never did let your Doll prattle on or interrupt. Were pretty cruel to others who did that too.” He murmurs after another few long heartbeats. “Huh. Wonder if easily threatening a person is a Quirk of being a Combat woven piece. Either way..." He glances between the weapon and Adaline. "Your Mistress is lucky I came alone, Doll, else others would pull this hook out and see what the tides bring for mouthing-off to a Thresher."

 

Verbess cracks free again, and sets Quills to thrumming a tune of not quiet or silent warning. Talons already gripping the table as legs brace for a leap it only just won't do unless I command it.

 

"Yselda designed me to take down Thresher Squads. Alone. Do not Test me, Boy. I have a name, even if you are too cowardly to have one of your own."

 

I sigh, but don't hold back my smirk for all to see. "My gerls are so very terrible at listening. But... She does have a point..." I lean forward to rest elbows on the table in a relaxed but interested pose. Letting Verbess and Adalines' looming fury speak my answer to his petty threat. "What are you doing here? Alone. No Cadre or Muppets or... well you're armed for a fight but with the knowledge that even just my Verbess could defend me."

 

"Came to offer you a choice." He huffs then returns those knuckles to the table. "The one I should have had the courage to demand the last time we spoke."

 

"Oh?" I tilt my head, riven betwixt curiosity and truly annoyed mirth as what I expect this fool boy to say next.

 

"Surrender to my Cadre. If you give us access to this place we can turn its resource back to where it should have always been." He states like it's just... the most reasonable demand to be made of me. "Protecting the Groves. Keeping monsters like Yselda from ever getting power again. And if your cure for the Soul Rot is real? Even more so."

 

And... We can't help but cackle at that. "Are you joking? Cracked? Or just a Half-Knit fool trying to soothe the guilt for those you've hooked and drowned? Even at my lowest I'd never willingly give Threshers access to my mentor's research, much less this place. You really thought you could convince me of this?"

 

His glare deepens. "Are you really so stupid as to compare us to her? To you? We have some rotten sorts carrying the title, yes, but we keep the Denizens back. Actually try to hunt Witches like you and Yselda before they can start feasting on Mundanes."

 

"And where has that got us..." We murmur softly, more to ourselves. Then turn back up to smile so sweetly. "So... what's option two? I hope it's more well thought out than your first offer."

 

Xafra stands at that, still silent, motionless, but… through our bond I can feel her rage and wrath coiling.

 

"Then I pull out this hook," He gestures to the tool. "Go back to my Cadre, and tell them everything. About you, us, and all the things you shared with me. No more secrets. No more lies. They can drown me if they want, but... Yselda's not around to keep you safe anymore." He grimaces at his next words. "They'll break every Doll here, I'd guess. And I... I hate that. Would try to talk them out of it. But... a handful of sweet girls are worth what we could gain from this place. Can't risk you or Yselda laying traps in them and hurting or killing someone."

 

Our grin is so cruel when he looks back up to me. "And... What makes you think I'd let you leave after leveling a threat like that?"

 

He chuckles, "Honestly? I didn't. But... it sure does make me feel better about what I left my Captain to read if I don't come back."

 

Our grin cracks, falls into a glare. "What?"

 

"Oh you idiot. You absolute fool.” Xafra growls as her Quills begin a deep thrum. “Mistress, I will defer to you in this manner, but I'm currently thinking that the Pack should go on a hunting trip. Because this pathetic boy did the one thing he should have avoided. He threatened my Dolls." 

 

"Wait... Her Do-" He begins to say.

 

But no one's interested in listening to this stupid Half-Knit prattle on anymore. 

 

"Disarm, Capture, and Detain." We sigh to the Pack, reaching up to rub at the bridge of our nose while rising. "If you please."

 

Adaline lashes out with a Quill she rips from her scalp, nearly faster than I can see piercing his hand and... It carries a weave, the one that I had thought was still only theoretical, the one that in short order seals his Physis and Ousia into a collar that forms around his neck.

 

He sputters out weaving words, which avail him nothing, and jerks the hook free and tries next to push working through that.

 

Which also fails.

 

Schatzi shakes her head while moving around the table. Gently pulls the hook from his grip like a parent would an unruly child's toy, handing it to Xafra before securing his arms behind his back with her own.

 

"The most absurd thing is that you thought the Chains would be able to take over the Estate instead of getting devoured by it. Actually, no, the most absurd thing is thinking that slavers like you are morally better than my Mistress. At least she recognizes that she was a monster." Xafra states, holding the hook with revulsion.

 

He begins to sputter some nonsense. But I'm around the table and jerking him by the chin to meet my gaze. "I'm going to give you a very simple choice."

 

"Magic." He hisses. "You've made a Doll with magic!?! An Einwandfrei? Are you totally CRACKED?"

 

"Yes." We spit, "But we're losing time. You are either going to tell us everything about this message you left to you Cadre and make Cracked and Riven sure we think you're telling the truth, or I am going to break you in one of three ways and make you tell us." 

 

"I… You can’t really mean to–" He sputters.

 

"Waste another word and the choice will be made for you."

 

He flinches, then shakes his head.

 

"Fine." I growl and release him, then turn to the Pack. "Take him onto the grounds."

 

Adaline wobbles a bit and Xafra steadies her, taking her hand as Schatzi gives way to Verbess who carries him back down the Root Way to the Estate.

 

<Well done.> Lynette murmurs to the Pack over the bond who welcome such things. <Expected the lot of you to just... pounce like a gaggle of Graklers on a carcass. But that was brilliantly woven and struck.>

 

I step over to Adaline, and ask. "But... losing a Quill seems an expensive cost. Are you alright?"

 

"I can reattach it with a bit of assistance. Miss Elevar, it hurt a lot more than this one expected." Adaline admits, picking the Quill back up.

 

"That seems likely, I would not have even considered doing something like that." Xafra agrees.

 

"This Witch is too clever by half." I let Lynette murmur through my smirking lips while we pull away. Then I intone to Xafra. {How... long would it take you to Resheath someone? And... will Fleshcrafting in their past be a problem?}

 

[The longest it has taken me was sixteen hours, for a very significant difference, most are one to two hours. I don't expect prior Fleshcrafting to be an issue at all.] She answers with an unexpected amount of trepidation.

 

<Elevar...> Lynette intones her warning to both me and Xafra. <Krahe was a fool, but an honest one. This Half-Knit threatened us all. And even all his nonsense serves to do is gather our enemies in one spot, people you want to save will die. And Dolls will be woven to take their place.>

 

{I know.}

 

<I'm going to Dollify him.> She states bluntly, still to both Xafra and me. <And whether you mean to Garrote him before, during, or after is immaterial to that.>

 

{Only if he agrees.}

 

She pauses, and I feel her normal hissing rebuke soften, turn thoughtful. <I'll follow your lead then. Stupid Half-Knit.>

 

[Wha... I don't understand. I... My Mate, don't make me... please.] Xafra's trepidation grows to distress, provoking a hiss of concern from Adaline.

 

I move to stand in front of her and take up her hand. Kiss it and murmur softly. "Sh. Shh. Shh. Shh... Sorry, plans are getting ahead of me. I'd never ask you to do something wretched here. But I... If this fool boy tells us what we want to know. Quickly, and without lies, would you finish what I only was able to give him part of? The body he always needed? I'd do it myself but... I've not Fleshcrafted well in nearly a decade, and it would take so much longer than what you can do."

 

"Oh. Yes. Of course. Thank you Mistress." Xafra calms and responds with hope.

 

I turn to lead us after Verbess. Instructing them to bring him to kneel outside my Spire. Giving him a wonderful view of the grounds.

 

"I don't want to Garrote you." I start, standing over him. "Really, truly, I don't. That wasn't a lie. But..." Then I kneel. "I won't let your stupidity hurt them."

 

He eyes the grounds, eyes still able to recognize Ousia and Physis and see the lack of bindings upon some Dolls walking about. "This... you freed them? Got the Garrote off without breaking them?"

 

"Not me, but yes. We're keeping them safe here. Each has a name, and... and a family. Technically a Mistress but... she understands something we were never taught. The weight of surrendering oneself to another. And that burden sits around her neck like the stone collars Threshers like to put on troublesome captives. But she bears it well. Gets stronger every Cracked and Riven day. And still seeks to free more rather than simply settle and live well."

 

He shakes his head. "That... But..." Then looks to Xafra. "What is she? Some Doll? Or a monster dredged up from the depths of this place?"

 

"I'm the reason Threshers exist." Xafra laughs. "Mistress, may I change into something more... appropriate?"

 

"You may take any form and attire you want, my love." I smile at her over my shoulder.

 

She walks into my Spire, and back out a few heartbeats later in her Warlord form, chest wrap and trousers, having exchanged the servant robes she was wearing for the clothing stashed inside the entrance. "Much better for this sort of business."

 

His eyes go wide. "I... A Warlord? And a Doll? You... but..."

 

I touch a hand to sputtering lips. "She can share her nature with you later if she wants, but for now... I need you to listen. Our world is so very broken. You know this. We... Your words and dedication to trying to make it better literally pushed me to find and help people I hurt. I would have left my victims to rot if not for you. And just when I thought I could do no more, I found her. And she's going to change the world for the better."

 

He swallows. Looks between us and the grounds. "How?"

 

"Lots of ways. But she's started here. And the only reason I've not Garroted you out of sheer frustration and fury... is because she sees me as something I am not." I'm whispering by the end. "Xafra's made her own mistakes, but... I'm trying very hard to make sure loving me isn't one of them. And the thought of her seeing me Garrote and drag answers from you will... will... it'll ruin me. Not forever. But I have delicate things to attend to and I can't be off-balance. Dear Ones I need to help free and heal."

 

"More Dolls?"

 

I smile gently. "Does it matter?"

 

He looks away. Over the Estate, then back to us.

 

As we talk, Xafra suddenly leaps up and backwards catching Calix as he falls from some sort of contraption he decided to launch from the balcony of Xafra's Spire.

 

"Wow! That was terrible!" He exclaims joyfully.

 

"Calix... Please be careful. You don't even have any sort of landing zone set up." Xafra begs as she sets him down and brushes off the leaves and twigs from his newest project.

 

I sigh and push down my fury. Wanting so much to... No. He's a sweetheart. My anger is for the stupid Half-Knit who would threaten him and...

 

"Who..." I turn back to find this Thresher staring at Xafra's fool of a Doll. "I... what? Why did... Did you just fall from the sky?"

 

Calix rushes over to where he kneels and sits on the ground in front of him. "This one is Calix, he wanted to see if he could fly with a simple Frame of leaves and twigs. Thankfully it didn't work, which means more experimentation." He leans in like he's sharing a secret, "This one waited until the Mistress was below so she would catch him."

 

"I... Why are you trying to fly?" The Thresher asks carefully, reeling a bit, but... otherwise seeming quite honest with that question.

 

"Sounded like fun. This one could ask Mistress Xafra to Resheath him but it doesn't seem like wings are part of this one's ideal self, you know?" Calix answers, happy to chat with the first man he's seen in over a decade.

 

"That's... Your Frame seems incredible without them. Yes. But... Resheath. Is that like some kind of... odd Fleshcrafting?" The Thresher shakes his head, probably taken aback by the idea of a Doll being allowed to just... do things they want to do. Much less the other bits Calix has blundered into sharing. Was... not wanting to make them part of the offer. But... Why? 

 

<Worked for us, and this will make them both so very happy. I think.> Lynette murmurs. <Let this marvelous boy entice this miserable Thresher into better things.>

 

"Oh! No, Mistress Xafra is suuuuper old, like before the moon broke old, and she can do this thing with muuud and reagents and a healing salve where you climb in and she does the wooosh with her Physis and says the wibbly words and then you get out a few hours later with a body that matches what your soul says it should look like. Adaline got that a few days ago and now she has tusks which are really cute, and more eyes, and the Quills." Calix gesticulates wildly as he talks, getting really excited.

 

Adaline responds by throwing a small clump of dirt at Calix as she blushes.

 

Calix in turn, immediately puts it in his mouth and swallows.

 

I expect this Thresher to balk or refute or deny Calix's every word. But... he doesn't. Only seems to sit up straighter and lean close and absorb all this. Even catch a smile touch his lips as Calix gobbles down the dirt.

 

"Mud? Dirt magic to... to remake Dolls?" He whispers, eyes dancing over the man sitting before him.

 

"Mhm." I smirk and lean back. "And... Xafra seems pretty confident it'll work on people. Needs willing subjects though. People who have an ideal self they'd like to have without needing to go through Dollification."

 

He goes quiet, looking down before eventually murmuring. "It seems too cracked to be real, but... Even if everything you're saying is true I can't just... betray them. My Cadre."

 

"Then let me make this simple." I interject. "I'm going to see what I started years ago on you finished. If you tell us everything we need you can pick how you want that to go. Dollification, Resheathing, or... well if you're willing to wait I'll be attempting to master Fleshcrafting. Otherwise... well... I get to pick. Either way you're not going to be a Thresher when the Suns stop weeping."

 

The Thresher looks between me and Xafra. "I... If I tell you. Will you promise to not kill them? My Cadre? The letter is in a place that if you're careful you could take it without needing to."

 

"I am willing to promise to do my best to avoid killing or harming them in any way. Yet. But I will not suffer a Chain to continue existing in the future, so they will either have to submit or die when it comes to that." Xafra offers.

 

He goes quiet for a while, taking slow breaths as his mind races. I'm about to prompt an answer when he nods. "Alright. Alright. I... It's the best I can do. Least amount of people hurt. Even if you're lying to me. Which I have good reason to believe you're not."

 

The town he gives us is close, thank the dead and rotting hag, half-way between us and Salzige. His Cadre of six is working out of an inn they claimed about a year ago. His bunk is on the Root level, and it'll be two weeks before they'll consider checking over his belongings and stumbling across the note left among them. Which would then need to be carried all the way to one of the main Thresher Burrows. 

 

We have time. More than I'd feared to dream for.

 

"Thank you." I sigh and rise. "Cracked and Riven Moon. So... Did you have a preference or did you need to sleep on it? All but the Fleshcrafting can be done today."

 

He blinks. "I... You're not going to wait until you have the letter to offer?"

 

"If you're lying, I can punish you aptly then. And if someone gets hurt because of said lie..." I give him a pointed look. "I'd be more than happy to feed you to this Estate and let you discover what it thinks you should be."

 

It's a lie, of course. And I let Xafra feel that through our bond. How much I hate to threaten even that, though. I'd only Dollify him, which would probably leave him much like what his Resheathed form would look like. 

 

But from his nod I know he believes me, and that his words are probably true. "Understood. Um... Resheathing sounds the best option. Less... less me lost?" And he looks to Calix in a searching manner.

 

Calix nods "Mmhm! It doesn't change what's in your head at all actually. Mistress Xafra said it was used for people like... you?" He trails off confused. Then simply stands up and walks away.

 

"Blind Oracles. It'll probably be a few hours at least before he works his way out of this one." Xafra mutters bitterly.

 

"I... like what?" The man at our feet asks. "Is... Did I say something wrong? Hurt him?"

 

"He means... I don't know if your language has a polite word for Half-Knits, but we called them Resheathed. And no, you didn't do anything, he hit a mental snag. we're doing our best, but Calix was Yselda's oldest Doll from what we've been able to learn and she used him specifically for testing new variations of Garrote and other unsavory weaves."

 

The man winces, nods. "It doesn't, unfortunately. Not that I've come across, anyway. If there is anything I can do to help him please let me know."

 

"Be kind and honest with him. He uhhm… shared a lot more with you than I expected or would have been willing to myself. I'm going to go get the Ritual prepared... Glad I didn't have to kill you. Mistress Elevar hasn't mentioned many friends from her past." Xafra says bluntly before heading to her Spire. 

 

[That... could have been worse?] She intones to me.

 

{Much.} I reply. {You all handled that perfectly. Thank you. And... Apologies. I did not expect this, of all my past mistakes, to come to our home with pitch and torch. He was always a fool, but not a spiteful one. Just... Latched onto his home's view of Threshers and didn't see their rot until he had too many friends to consider leaving or burning it away.}

 

[Heh. He brings back old memories of that fool Namtar, and it's hard not to start yelling at him to notice what is going on around him]

 

[I'm glad we were able to avoid harming him. He was always nice to us. also Adaline says, ‘That better show Lynette why I'm amazing’] Schatzi adds

 

<Tell her I found it delightful, but…> Lynette giggles. <Next time I expect there to be no Quill cost, half the casting time, and let’s say… thrice the targets. And a name to the spell, of course. Once she starts using that in earnest I want them to know the name of the Einwandfrei and the gerl who wove it.>

 

Then I turn to him, offer a hand. "Despite your stupid plan and worse manners... It's good to see you well."

 

He takes my hand and rises. "S– same. You... you seem better than ever. Did you really find a cure? For the Soul Rot?"

 

"No. That was Xafra's doing." I nod, step past him. "C'mon. You can stay in my Spire for now."

 

He follows, and I lead him up to a spare bedroom. Give him prompt and simple rules. Be kind, ask before entering new places, and do not attempt to hurt anyone else on these grounds. Tell him that he is, for now, a guest. The more kindness he shows the more trust he will be given. I don't have the energy or will to threaten him anymore, and am happy to let his imagination do that for me.

 

I settle into my desk and murmur back to Schatzi and Xafra. {Me too, Schatzi. If anything... well... I think we might have saved his life a bit today. I could sense that he's not interrupted the Fleshcrafting I did but... nor has he encouraged it. Cultivated the changes or explored the Art. Calix seems to find him a fascinating sort. Hopefully they'll get along. He... I don't recall him taking my cutting off our relationship very well.}

 

[I hope so as well.] Xafra responds after a few moments. [I've brought the basin downstairs to one of the side rooms, and it is ready for him.]

 

{Wonderful, thank you. I'll bring him over.} I intone back. Then rise to go find him sitting on the edge of the bed. Lost in thought. 

 

"Alright. She's ready. Let's see you put a little more together." I murmur softly, take up his wrist, and lead him.

 

We don't talk for the walk over and it's not until we're outside the room Xafra's prepared that I speak. "So, One last thing."

 

He nods carefully. "Yes?"

 

"When you leave the basin, you are no longer a Thresher. But, before you return to my Spire, I expect you to have a proper name. Ask Xafra, one of her gerls, or... well if Calix deems you worthy of his considerations again, if nothing comes to mind. They are quite apt at this sort of thing. Understood?"

 

He purses his lips, "I... okay."

 

"Wonderful. Be good. And congratulations." Then I turn, and begin to leave him. 

 

But as I walk away, I hear the unsettling voice of Augusta greeting him, "Good morning Mr. Chain. I am looking forward to having you as a patient soon.” 

 

I glance just as he steps in and her eyes find mine. “You as well, Matrons Elevar and Lynette," before the door closes firmly on me.

 

That… Is such an odd Doll. I muse as I leave.

 

Lynette only murmurs as I've settled back into my study and pulled the needle free to consider. <Let's crack this then.> 

 

"Yes. Let's." I whisper, and plunge back into this troublesome lock laid over the gemstone enchased Archive.

 

Thousands and thousands of heartbeats pass in what feels like a few dozen. Our everything bent toward finding the proper Ousia patterns to match the inlaid designs and fully link my Little Archive to this. It was an odd quirk of the late Blossom to keep an external Archive when her personal one and the Estate's sit ready for use but... not unwise. 

 

If I was clever I'd have done the same.

 

Then I wouldn't have lost a lifetime of Tomes, research, maps, records of my Einwandfrei, and worst still... journals. Fifty Cracked and Riven full things on... on everything within my life. Not just a petty and cruel gerl's muses either, but... but notes on my Doll and... and foolish Dreams on what Fleshcrafting could do if I had access to more Ousia. Schema of flesh and bone from both before, during, and after my time under my teacher. Things I... I wanted so desperately to share with Xafra to see if she could help me explore.

 

Gone within minutes of Sikkina entering my Little Archive. All of it. Not a scrap left.

 

That almost ruined me. Had to ignore thinking about it amidst all the other demands of the aftermath of that. But... Then Lynette demanded I gift her and us the Old Cunt's needle, and such hope sparked in my chest as I dredged up a memory of the days after first being Garroted. Of... of being commanded to copy everything within my Archive into these gemstones.

 

So… Now we work. Letting the suns weeping taunt us as we constantly find the lock just… a touch misaligned. A moment from being correct. Just… a whisper from…

 

It’s well into the night when, with a crack of violet sparks, the gemstones light up and we sense our Little Archive Knit itself into the gemstones.

 

{I… We did it!?!} I sputter.

 

<Wonderful. Excellent.> Lynette purrs. <Now. Let's explore the stacks within.>

 

Such a wave of relief and energy joins with my working of Endurance as I feel myself slip into a full focus on the Archive within these stones.

 

So much. A stupid amount. Enough to make me a little embarrassed at what I recall my own holding.

<Yselda had thrice our age to gather this, and probably stole from her mentor’s work.> Lynette smirks while pulling us along. <Come. Let’s find our section and then put you to bed.>

 

{I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep.} I giggle, openly letting my excitement leak over to her.

We peruse for… a long time. Or maybe no time. Depends on how quickly our mind imbibes this all and… and…

 

It’s… We can’t find my journals.

 

<I… You’re sure she took everything?> Lynette asks carefully.

 

{Yes. Of course! She did a full absorption.} I huff and begin to reconsider everything from the start again. Not able to absorb it all like Xafra might but… at least check the titles and identifying markings.

 

Lynette helps but…

 

Still can’t find them. Only a few Tomes from my collection but… even they don’t seem perfect.

 

<Could be hidden or buried. You know how she was. A messy Artist to her bones.>

 

{Yes. But… I need to find them before I’ll be able to rest.}

 

<Alright. Let’s… this should be the easy part.>

 

Still nothing, even after half the night passes.

 

With a huff I finally whisper {I should check HER records. She… she would have made an entry about it.}

 

Lynette purses her lips at that. <Is that a good idea?>

 

{It’s all I have.} I move to the section containing Yselda’s personal journals. Consider them like I’d run fingers along the bindings sticking out from a bookshelf. {In and out. Just… find the date, brace through the words, let you lead us to them if I… fall apart.}

 

Lynette pauses. <Should we get Xafra for this?>

 

{What? No. Of course not. This is our promise, to them and each other. And… and It’s not like I mean to read more than I have to.}

 

She doesn’t agree, but nor does she stop me as I begin checking the dates. It’s… easier than it should be. To find the exact day she copied my Archive into these gemstones.

 

Early enough in my own Garroting that time still made some measure of sense. Not even five days in and she was already devoid of hesitations and preparing me for the Dollification process.

 

 

WELCOME TO BOOK TWOOOO!!!

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