A Blade and Her Witch

Sins Passed Down (Blade)

Content Warnings:

 

I raise us out of the Driftdream cackling, unable to form a response as serious as she deserves. [The irony is astounding, dear Witchling.]

Only days after I decide against killing her and realize that I want to keep her forever, she offers me the ability to slay her in a moment. 

Elevar, one of the most adorable women I've ever seen, grumps with weary annoyance as she rouses. {Well it's the best I've got with the limited–} 

Her communication cuts off as she seems to shake with pain.

Overexertion? Position? Likely. Wait and watch.

"Gerls, put me down! And hold Xafra for a moment if you would." She demands, pain sharpening her words.

[Blind Oracles. We should make camp, yes?] I ask the Coterie.

Not a Coven. No. Quite a mixed bunch. Heh.

"I'll not have us stop for my withering bones and get caught in the rain down here." Elevar refuses as they settle her onto the lush forest floor. "How far did you gerls get us?"

"Three Grove Spans." The Doll replies, thrumming in contentment and pride. "None can or have tried to pursue this one."

[What are these Groves you speak of? Some sort of Denizen exclave? The foliage here is overflowing with Nomos in ways I've never seen]

"No. They are one of the few safe spaces from the tides and all this nonsense." Elevar huffs and glares about at the now dark jungle. "The center of the Root Ways we'll normally walk though. They grow straight down and are so wide only a few bridges span across them. Each is the same width and depth, almost akin to a big hollowed out tree except upside down. They probably perch... two thirds of the people you'll find about this region.”

Root Ways. Odd. Inverted trees, living hollow? How do they feed? On the Nomos from the weeping of the Suns? Would require significant increases in the density. Perhaps... Oh, the Moon. Oh Merciful Mothers, without her blessings the Denizens must run rampant, especially in valleys where the Nomos can pool.

I ponder for a while as Elevar stretches out her sore muscles and the sisters watch over her.

[What's the plan, Mistress?] I query.

Will think of her offer later. Need to get outta here to somewhere less... all of this. Don't even know where we're going, but it doesn't matter.

"We head to... to home." She replies while reaching out to take me from her Dolls, that last word seeming to come out like more of a rasp. "No time for a leisurely stroll, not down here. Xafra, I'll need you to take big bites of Ousia from the jungles about if you are able so we can move at speed, if you please. And... honestly that's probably for the best. The Dolls there will enjoy having more pleasant guests to dote upon than just me.”

[Of course. I'll have to be careful not to channel too much into you at once, but should be able to allow you to maintain a rapid pace without further degradation. It will... leave a trail.]

More Dolls. Unexpected. Why would she leave them behind when she's this sick?

{I've seen you be precise.} My Witch switches to communicate through the bond as the Doll begins to push through the foliage. Momentum building at Elevar's pace. {Draw in larger chunks now, and space out your feasting as we move. Leave big swaths untouched, and any thinking to track us that way will soon find the jungle healed over.}

[Understood]

I'm dreadfully amused at her comment about my precision considering it seems like half of our time together so far has had at least one of us insensate from mental or physical trauma which implies a level of messiness that should be incompatible with precision. That being the case, I am in fact precise enough for the simple task of blighting jungle tracts semi-randomly to keep Elevar’s core filled to near its limit with Ousia and replenish my reserves.

The more challenging task for me is to hone in on the exact locations of Seelenfäule in her body, but as we travel for the rest of the day and she burns slivers of Ousia regeneratively, I'm able to narrow the location down to her bones... all of her bones.

It isn't until Elevar catches a face full of peat when she trips under the gloaming of the Riven Moon that I insist she stop for a rest. 

[Elevar, sweetheart, you need sleep. We can continue in a few hours, still long before the weeping, with a slight adjustment to your eyes, if you want.]

My Witchling huffs in exhausted annoyance but... Cants back a messy ::Agreement:: as her breath hitches momentarily before allowing her Doll's aid in rising. Then commands them to get out a few good blankets while intoning to me. {Cleanse this patch, if you please. Will take too long for the elder even with those talons and we don't want to wake up with vines growing into my nose and ears in a light drizzle.}

In the handful of days we have known each other, I have steadily reduced my span from five metres down to two meters in order to accommodate Elevar's lack of training, limited wingspan, and frankly inadequate muscle mass. I ponder how to rectify at least two of these issues while thoroughly blighting the jungle around us in a sphere radius of my current length, including underneath us. It is, in many ways, less stressful than figuring out how to replace her entire skeletal system to rid her of this Soul Rot that plagues her. 

A curse handed down through generations. Moonwaste they call it. Has to be the same as this soul rot, just internal vs external. The price of shattering Mercy, turning against the Divine Watcher. But… What is the mechanism? The way they speak of Moonwaste, it’s a physical substance, detritus from the sundering, so how did it get into Elevar's body? She said she's spent most of her casting years fighting it off. Childhood exposure? FOCUS. Concentrate on the short term issue. Training is achievable. The sisters are compatible enough. Similar foundation, even if theirs is much more elegant. Could share memories of forms and katas to have them teach external while I guide from within. Easier than teaching only from within like I had to with Namtar.

While I work, Elevar uses her weaving to clean myself and the Doll before herself as well. She interrupts my musings by intoning to us all, {Thank you, good gerls.} before with a grace that belies her exhaustion, falling into the bedding and embrace of the Doll while holding me. 

Once I detect that she is fully asleep, I reach out to the sisters again, hoping for some conversation.

[Young one, would you be willing to speak again?]

[Only so long as you mean to do so softly, old Parasite.] My annoying rival dredges itself up from what would seem an almost thoughtless function. More smooth and with less conflict and struggle than ever before… [Mistress needs to gather as much sleep as she is able before relying on spells of endurance and motion.]

[I wanted to check in and see how you both are doing. While I am significantly older, I am in many ways out of my depth with all of the changes and having a Witch as a Mistress. To aid that end, I would like to assist you and your sister however I can.]

The feral Doll-sister thrums for a while, quiet... not rage. Not spite. But... annoyance. A softer kind than I expect. [This Defect would have you explain what possessed you to lash out with the old dead teacher's voice? The slaughter was...] The Quills almost seem to sing in approval here. [Deft. Precise. Well executed. But... the stroke carried a backlash you knew would roll over both yourself and our Mistress.]

Schatzi surfaces to my senses as this self-proclaimed 'Defect' questions me. It stays silent but makes her presence known with a simple ::Witnessed::

[I had promised not to utilize our Mistress' Tone. I gained the old one's from consuming her Ousia that infested our Mistress. I don't have one of my own, of course. It was... Truthfully, a panicked response. Lashing out with a traumatic memory as my mind frayed. The backlash against our Elevar was not intended, and there was… none against myself. I fell from the triplicate Tone focused against me.]

[Dredging up that old Nightmare's voice will affect you, Old Parasite. But... You ask how you can assist? How you can acclimate?] Quills twitch silent for a moment, then resume rhythmic tunes. [If a Witch's Tone begins to fray your mind and will, crack the Quills from this Frame's back to smother them. And if you are unable, ask Schatzi to show you how to call for this Defect in preparation.]

[Her Tone, and Elevar’s, are now part of me. I will refrain from using it as well, however, now that I know the harm it causes her... Thank you. I genuinely appreciate the offer.]

And I do. This little sister from across lifetimes has no need to accept me, to assist me, and yet it does.

It seems evident that the appearance of apathy is not the same as the presence. Likely just shows feelings in a different manner.

I let the conversation slack for a while, wanting to ask another question but waiting for Schatzi, our audience, to rest before I press on.

[Defect. This is the name you wish to use?]

A thrum of pained amusement echoes down the bond. [It is.]

[Acceptable. I will refer to you as such until you request otherwise.]

A nasty thing, designed to harm oneself but... That is less important than the right to self-determination.

::Agreement/Satisfaction:: Defect sends, then lapses into silence. Its Quill Song remains a trilling discordant thing that somehow Elevar sleeps through. In fact, she almost seems to stir a bit more the few times Defect has quieted them.

After a few hours, the Mistress wakes with a flinch from deep rest, with a slightly increased heart rate along with a few other small tells into sudden alertness. Our tether that was originally thrumming with a bit of stress and anxiety shifts to sudden joy, then abject terror, and drops into sadness in the seconds before eyes snap open. Her Physis twists around the tether before jerking away as far as possible in self-disgust then going very still and silent. 

Perhaps a sign that she's getting better at holding errant emotions from thrumming down the tether when she tries. Unfortunate.

Her Doll seems almost expectant of it, letting the Quills chime even louder until the Mistress desires to speak aloud.

"Alright then." Elevar huffs under her breath and moves straight from laying to rising.

[How do you wish to proceed?] I inquire with curiosity.

"Same as before." She murmurs as Defect gathers up and re-packs the beddings. "Doll, do we still have that Lamp? The one that doesn't need fuel to burn?”

"This one is not certain. Let it..." Defect rouses Schatzi as it pokes at some of the bags in consideration, who in turn smoothly takes over speaking.

“Yes Mistress, it's packed away right here.” Little sister deftly collects a strange wooden tube from one of the pouches strapped to its waist. 

"Wonderful. Thank you." Elevar sighs, fiddling with the object for a few seconds, then illuminates us all in the soft yellow glow of a bioluminescent fungus that shines from the opening in the container. As we begin to move Elevar murmurs softly to Defect. "Keep the Quills out, if you would.”

[One moment, actually.] I interrupt with a healthy amount of chagrin. [I need to do a quick repair on Defect, as it broke off two Quills to accommodate me on the journey to Salzige which I promised to fix.]

My Witch goes stiff, and intones to me with such an emotionless thrum across the tether. {What, by the Cracked and Riven Moon, did you just call my Doll?}

With an understanding of the Cursestorm I've unleashed, I respond to our Witch privately in calm words. [The name it informed me of, which I will continue to use until it tells me otherwise. I do not like the name, and stating it leaves a vile taste of bitter irony in my soul, but I will use it anyway.]

Quick, deft, and as precise as the first time she showed me, Elevar Cants ::Appreciation::

"Dear one..." She purrs gently without looking over toward the Doll. "Tell me, am I still asleep? Did I tumble from one nightmare into another?"

The Doll pauses, Quills thrumming in confusion as it turns about to face her. "No, Mistress. And this one is devoid of Dreams when slumbering. You are very much awake."

"Ah, well isn't that unfortunate." She nods with a mocking pout, then turns fully to face Defect while adjusting me to be cradled in her left arm. "I've suddenly become aware that you've thought of picking a name, and would just love to hear it." 

Defect goes still. Only its Quills thrumming softly now but... sing with harmonic guilt and pain and fear. "It... Schatzi and this one... We came to an-"

"Oh!" Elevar interrupts, "Our delightful Schatzi helped you pick one out. Well, she's so good with names it seems. What did she help you settle on?"

Defect refuses to meet Elevar's gaze, eyes dropping to the forest floor. "M- mistress..."

"Am I so horrid that you'd think I'd not let you choose a name as well?" She purrs, voice on a knife's edge between kindness and cruelty. 

"No. Mistress." Defect shakes itself bodily in negation. "It... it did not want a name. But Schatzi insisted and..."

"So kind of her, to help you like that." Elevar picks up after Defect trails off. "Your younger sister is so good to you, Isn't she? Better than mine ever were to me.”

::Disgust/Revulsion:: I do not bother to suppress my feelings on this callous interrogation.

[Consider whose footsteps you follow in, my love.]

As Defect roils in confliction, Elevar's fury twists. Almost shatters but... still remains hot. Easily able to ignite. {And whose would those be? Hm?}

[You tell me. Who decided how your resheathing should go, how you should look, how you should act? You flinch and hold back disgust when I call you beautiful, like it isn't your face I appreciate... I do not know what you've been through, only the aftermath. What I know is the importance of a name, of the freedom to claim one that suits. You blessed me with a name, one better than I deserve to my mind. I simply would ask that you think your actions through before you carve away at the young one.]

{This isn't about...} Elevar lets out such an exhausted huff, then turns to face her silent Defect. "Tell me then. Share the name you want to hear us call you." 

And for the first time, I see Defect outright refuse Elevar. Shaking its head. "You will not accept it."

Elevar steps closer then, holding up a hand in gentle offer a foot short of Defect as such fury roils inside her. Hidden from her bond to the Doll but... seething across the one linked up to me. "So certain of that? Are you?"

It hesitates, but only for a second before leaning down to press cheek into palm. Another pause, and then Defect twists so that Elevar's hand passes beneath the crack that breaks the Doll's jaw in half to make room for the fangs. Moving up to grip at a spot at the back of the jaw, fingers like a hook in the mouth of some great fishthing. 

"Please..." It thrums, more with Quill than voice or bond. Jaw gnashing at Elevar's loose grip, a motion that seems to calm the Doll a great amount. How another might hold a hand or have their hair caressed.

"Xafra's practically screaming for me to let you keep whatever name you will, and even your sister accepted this." Elevar softly murmurs back. "You know the two names I can't stand, and it's neither of those. So... when you're ready, tell me, and I'll use it.”

Defect very nearly bites down on Elevar's hand at those last words. Quills dancing in such a mix of joy and pain and guilt and grinding desires as four Talons grasp the empty air at its sides.

[You hold its self worth in your hand. No matter your choice, it will continue to love you and obey.]

The entire time, Schatzi is silent, giving no sign of support or condemnation.

Elevar doesn't respond, but nor does she let her fury spill into the bond to the Doll. A few moments pass, forest falling to the low tittering of Quill song. Too soft or discordant to understand the tune they emit. Defect's gnashing eventually stilling.

"Alright then, I won't pester you about this again. Just share when you're good and ready." Elevar nods, and carefully pulls her hand free. Ending up with a few shallow cuts that barely dribble blood. "Let's get moving.”

[I am sorry. I know you said I could question you in private, but I would like to explain my reasoning, if you would permit.]

{Oh? It's quite clear you have the lay of things. Read my Doll so well and set us all on the right path.} Elevar intones, fury along the bond thrumming in contrast to her words. Flaring Physis into a spell of energy and motion, setting a quickened pace as we all begin to move. {But go ahead then, explain. Educate me.}

As I begin, My Mistress does not slow her pace.

[As you wish. Defect. Similar to how you call yourself Half-Knit, a means to degrade yourself, likely a term first used by another. Here is my counter. You are Worthy, you held the core of my soul in your hands as I held your heart in mine. You are my Owner and thus above all others. If your Doll is a defect, that simply means all others are scrap. If you are a Half-Knit Witch, all others are burrs in wool, unfit to exist in your presence save by your Grace. You stated Witches are Humans now, and no longer separate species but a matter of training, then all other Humans are your inferior as well, not more than flesh husks ripe for harvest.]

As I continue, my Witch speeds up our pace, the tether growing quieter and quieter…

[You stand at the pinnacle because Everything that walks, crawls, or burrows through Dämmerung is owed to me, and thus you. I accept nothing less as wergild for the crime of my creation. Defect is my Kin, as are all of these Dolls. As your prized possession and my superior in form if not function, It is the highest among all my kin and thus worth thousands upon thousands of humans. So I say, yes, Defect deserves to have its name respected. If it does not, then no other living being, save yourself, does.]

I finish my explanation and am met with silence.

And from that silence, broken only by the rhythm of her body in motion and Physis burning hard and hot through it, I easily feel the Soul Rot stir and claw and bite. Eventually to the point that even Elevar has to slow, then stop.

Three deep breaths, and she intones very softly through the tether. {I... Half-knit may be cruel, but it's not untrue. I lost nearly half my lifespan to my re-weaving. All because I was too proud to spend easily twice that as some ambitionless Doll. Then more to this wretched Seelenfäule. I... I have maybe a decade left, and that's if I was clever, which I am very clearly not as much as I thought. Less after these past... What? Three days and I've probably burned at least a year of my Ousia?}

Another deep breath, quicker this time.

{But unlike their wretched Mistress, My Doll is perfect. And I won't let you or it or any other thing claim otherwise.}

And like a broken dam the tether is suddenly awash with rage and pain and above all, fear.

{I hope I've guilted it into picking something less horrid. Be... because even it has grown and healed and risen above the pain that rusts at it. And if that wretched name helps it backslide even a whisper I'll chip that cost from your iron hide, Xafra.}

[I will teach it of its value just as I will teach you of yours. I do not care if Half-Knit is true now. When I scour the Seelenfäule from your body and give you the tools to reweave your form, you will have the body you desire. And lifespan? Until you express a wish to end, you will not die. Ever. Likewise my Kin. I refuse to be alone again. I will pay whatever price necessary to help them and you.]

Elevar's breath hitches, fury sputters. {You think it can be cured?}

[Removed. Without question. I've been struggling to find an elegant way befitting you, but... It will simply be a messy process of extracting the bones that contain this Moonwaste one at a time and replacing them with new ones I will grow for the purpose. If I was more talented and had more time, I would try to develop something that binds with it to leech it from your body non-invasively but I was never a student of alchemy past learning how to manufacture Viran and Estrus biologically.]

"W-wait. Moonwaste? I... You found the cause‽" She sputters, both through the bond and aloud. "I... But... how am I even alive‽ Moonwaste is toxic, kills quickly. And how... How did it even get into my bones‽”

I focus closely on the area around the largest blank spots in my inspection of her form, her Os Coxae, and ask her a question before answering in order to confirm my suspicions. [How long after your resheathing did the Soul Rot start affecting you?]

She swallows, then returns to responding through the tether, {We're not certain of the exact time. Testing for the Seelenfäule is imprecise and... and casting was difficult in those first years of my apprenticeship with her. But... Only long after my re-knitting did it grow into something debilitating. I traveled a lot for her, since she couldn't leave the Estate. Visited lots of Groves doing what she needed me to. At least... at least until...}

[Mmhm. Here is my theory. I cannot say for certain of course, and as I have never interacted with Moonwaste, it is still only an assumption currently that it is the same thing as the anomalous substance in you causing the Seelenfäule. When you were a child, you were exposed to Moonwaste tainted water. A small enough concentration that were you not to take up one of the Arts, it would be only a slight diminishing of your lifespan. From there, it seems to have been taken up by the bones like certain nutrients, carving into them leaving microabrasive scarring, and settled in the tissue within. My assumption is... Your resheathing is the cause of your problems. I mentioned that your Ousia is suppressing the substance, yes? I believe that it is because your marrow is unchanged due to the Moonwaste and the weaving is still attempting to complete, slowly draining your life. It is likely that if the weaving was done with a greater knowledge of anatomy and more skill, you would have died the day of your resheathing as it ate away all of your Ousia.]

{Day? Pah! No we... SHE took at least a few hundred of them to re-knit me.} Elevar snorts, then pauses and shivers. {But that... That follows the little I've read of the horrid substance. And... So... you said your plan was to replace these bones? How would you do such a thing? Even Dollification can't replicate all the nonsense and has to make do with jade and such beneath the shell their Ousia forms about the pre-woven Frame.}

[Within my own body. I am not... alive in the same sense as a human, even when in my human form. I don't need to eat food, or breathe, or even beat my heart. It is a displaced simulacrum that I swap my essence between. Truthfully I don't even know where the body goes when I am a spear and vice versa. Anyway, I can copy your body's signature, and grow the bones. Probably only one at a time as I have to be in my human form to do so which will be costly, but I could do them all over some time, then have your Doll harvest them from me all at once so we can do the replacement in as few surgeries as possible and keep the internal tissue alive.]

"Why?" Elevar's whisper is barely a rasp. "The Ousia cost alone is ridiculous! And... and can a human even survive that kind of procedure‽ Why waste so much time and Ousia and probably more just for me? You can stave off the worst of it, probably give me a few extra years. That's enough."

Defect stiffens, bond suddenly rife with confusion swirling in pained hope as it murmurs. "Mistress...?"

The Witch grinds her teeth at the Doll's words, and refuses to look back.

I respond clearly, making my words reach the Dolls as well as Elevar so that my intentions can be understood. [Because you are the beloved of my Kin. Because you don't want to become part of me as you think it will only bring me pain. Because you wove a Bondsmith's Bond. Because you nearly died fighting against a weaving that forbade you from respecting Schatzi. Because I need you. The cost is less than you are worth, and a vivisection cannot kill me. You will not die if I can do anything to prevent it, until you decide it is your time. If that takes millennia, I will be a happy blade.]

Elevar goes quiet for a long moment. The tether sputters in discordant tunes as she tries so desperately to get control of it and herself. 

[You can save her?] Defect thrums into the quiet. Quills falling to buzz gently as it steps up to loom over her and me. [What you hinted at back in the Archives... It wasn't just bluster and desperation to escape?]

[With your help. Together we can not only save her, but restore her full capabilities.]

Those Quills nearly scream as the bond trills in furious tones. Canting their own cacophony of unfamiliar tunes. Things that sing of ravenous hope and almost hysteric joy. 

{Okay. Fine. I'll consent to us looking into this!} Elevar growls as the strange melody rolls off Defect. {Stop it, both of you. This could fail in so many ways, and I'll not have us counting our gains before the tides roll in!}

Defect calms, but only just. Bond and Quills still enraptured with quiet dancings that thrum with its delight.

I feel enthused at Defect's infectious joy.

[Alright. Shall we continue? We’re still quite a ways from our destination.]

"Of course. Please. That sounds delightful. I'd rather collapse into my own bed than try and sleep out here again." Elevar sighs and begins to move. "But the Estate is at least a day and a half away, and that's if we move at our best speed and I don't stop.”

 

 

 

Thanks SO much for reading this SUPER fun collaborative project we is doing with Ruby, Blade of Dusk

Linkies to Ruby's other works:
Scribblehub
Royal Road
Tumblr

 

You can come chat about this story oooooooon Discord!!!

Aaaaaaaaaaaand check our our (Nevarii & Els') other works below!!!

Lamentations of The Dead Dreamer

Sun Spoken Turn

Cover Arts done by the wumberful @Redsheis ! She is open to commissions!