A Blade and Her Witch

Trolleys are only a problem if you have Ethics (Blade)

Content Warnins':

I descend into my Driftdream to avoid another incident.

Hypocrite bitch. Not Permitted to use a Name, but she gives ME one?

One of the little motes of light that buzzes about this place zips close to titter out. "SHE named me, She NAMED me, I'm XAFRA!”

I gently flick away the thought wisp and gaze upon my domain. Glower at the half collapsed buildings, a fire blazing in the fields, and all the Geists fighting and breeding with crazed fervor.

She trashed this place with that HAG-spawned Tone. How does it still exist when so much of greater value has been lost?

"Focus, you stupid tool, you're falling apart!" Another mote darts close to yell.

I seize that wisp and eat it.

None of that. Self deprecation is for lesser beings. Now fix this first then think about what to do with Elevar.

As I consider the options, more motes drift close, one hums out. "She's so pretty, and strong, and I want her to put a collar on my neck."

I can't help but smile. The brightest wisps are worth encouraging, as they bring stability to the Driftdream.

The new one first. She should provide the substance needed to do some repairs without any losses.

I pull her from containment to face me, her form whole and unmarred by the wounds of life.

"You can consider this an exit interview of sorts. Any unfinished business that you would appreciate being resolved? loved ones you want protected or murdered?”

"Wh- what?" She stammers. Looking around in both terror and confusion. "Where did that bitch go? The one with the spear? Did... Are you one of Grephra's new recruits?”

"Let's take it from the top. You're dead. Caput, ended, no coming back. I have no idea who Grephra is yet, though I will once I assimilate your memories, but by that point you'll be a Geist like the rest in the village, so it's better to sort this stuff out now."

It's gotten easier over time. Number 58 will be the tenth I've added since my original creation and I've learned that honesty works best when doing so.

"The important stuff. Final requests, Things you would be willing to die for and so on. If they aren't too inconvenient, I will accommodate them.”

"Oh. Well... Fuck." She sags a bit. "That's... What's a Geist? Jekras always went on about needing to gather worth to be given a life after this one but... I kinda kicked her ass when she pestered me about it. But... was it all Saltshite? Am I getting drowned here because of all the cunts I gutted?”

"Geist is my term for the individual parts of my gestalt mind. Fragments of people pushed together into one being greater and lesser than the sum of her parts. Me. I don't know if there's an afterlife, but you're immortal now, you'll live forever as part of me, influencing how I think and feel, coloring my motivations, sharing all my joys and sorrows. I don't particularly care about the horrors you committed, those are mine now too. My responsibility. So now, for the third and final time, I will give you an opportunity for last requests. All your questions will be answered by the assimilation, and frankly, I don't have a lot of time, currently.”

"Um... Not... I don't think so?" A pause as she considers my words, then shrugs. "I think everyone kinda got gutted in that last raid. So... sure. How do we do this?”

"Alright." A heartbeat of reflection and I continue. "Thank you. Hopefully, we'll get to a point where we can be safe and happy."

Before she can reply I start unraveling the Ousia from her, unmaking her soul down to the barest seedgerm that I cradle in my hands as I push the wave of mundane memories into the fire, the shattered streets, the collapsed houses, holding back the precious unique ones: the first time she kissed a boy, the times her mother told her how proud she was of her archery talents, the unsteady fumbling with the priest's daughter. Those are saved along with the horrid ones: her father murdering her mother and brother before being beheaded by the city guards, learning that she would be losing the house due to her parents debts, the painful decision to become a bandit, getting murdered by a psychopath with a spear. the extremes, the flavor of her soul, I press together around the seedgerm once more, before I release her into the village.

That'll do for now. Briefly flitting through the new memories, I find the information I desire. Looks like the city we're heading to is Salzige, a few hours away.

The tether to Elevar suddenly goes slack.

"Critical Loss of Primary function." Another wisp gasps out as the repairs begin and number 58 settles into a comfortable routine.

I hiss at the wisp but leave it alone as I rapidly ascend to the waking world. 

[Doll, What has Occurred?]

[I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry! I broke Mistress Elevar! She said I could use my name and that she wanted to keep me and collapsed without warning!]

I sweep my senses through this Witch I've come to adore and loathe. The Influence attached to the optical nerve has grown and is pressing on all of the surrounding tissue.

I could excise it, remove it with one of the eyes and repair the damage but I promised. I promised not to modify her body without her consent. If I get her to Salzige I can find something to cool her down and reduce the swelling enough for her to wake so I can ask. WHY WHY WHY? She's in Danger? I can't WAIT. I have to. I can save her without doing it. Only if we run out of time. Can't do that to her. Fuck. I don't have the reserves to Manifest again, Okay. What do we— The other one. The sister. She's fast. Fast enough if I… yeah, not even a question, I'll kill everything else to keep what's mine.

[Doll. Wake up your sister, Immediately. We need her speed.]

[Y-yes, Xafra. Please save her.]

Barely a heartbeat passes within Elevar's chest, and suddenly the tether between the Doll and I is going taut. About to snap in twain as the thrumming of wild panic from it twists and swivels into such cold focus and regard.

A crack and pop, then the Doll is upon our forms. All four freshly separated limbs move to cradle their Mistress while scooping a foot beneath me. Flicks and kicks me toward the nearest root. Burying my blade six inches deep in the wood.

[What have you done to her, parasite?] It hisses through the bond while looking down upon its Witch's unconscious form, jaw already separating to reveal two rows of sharp fangs.

[It was your sister. Turns out you have a name you kept from our Witch, and something Elevar’s mentor implanted in her mind is trying to kill her for accepting it. Now. Pick me the fuck up, and prepare to travel at maximum survivable speed, this side of the sound barrier. I'm going to be fueling you so we can save this bloody woman's life.]

[This one can simply leave you here... or toss you into the sea.] Its eyes dart up to regard me as that body clicks and clacks. Internal workings seemingly as malleable and adjustable as any limb. [Keep your fuel. Ousia is as useless as air to this one. Explain well and quickly why a limb should be spared to carry you?]

I could just reach out and wear her like a glove and she argues, WITH ME? Time, time, we don't have TIME! If she argues again, I'll have to force her. It's a lesser offense against a sibling than a partner.

[Let me be clear. This is non-optional. I find it unlikely that you know someone else that can cut into Elevar’s head to remove what is effectively a tumor and then heal her without any side effects. Skip sparing a limb, you will need them to hold her as steady as possible, press me against your back and I'll shift your flesh to hold me in place.]

[You can shift this one's form?] Another snap, and six Quills tear out from its back. [Very well. The damage you inflicted during our duel is still present. This Frame can only move at certain speeds until it is repaired.]

I twist Ousia and Physis into the rend I left through its body, regrowing the pieces that were knocked free, pulling the metal back into place and knitting flesh closed.

[Done! Quickly now.] 

My reserves are near empty, slightly more than enough to maintain wakefulness, thus I begin my harvest.

As this impudent bitch lifts me once more and I secure myself along the upper ridge of her spine, the roots and plants around us begin to wither and shrivel, small birds fall from the sky and wildlife scatters.

It cradles her in its arms with surprising delicacy, devouring the distance between us and the city while I devour all other life within my rapidly growing influence. Near halfway to the city the doll spots a caravan in the distance heading in the same direction.

[No Detours, continue forwards.]

[Two options, parasite] It thrums without slowing. Only the rising tide to either side of our sandy path. Slowly becoming more and more drowned by the incoming waters. [Violate the Mistress's will and allow others to see and spread tales of this one's existence and the trail you weave. Or...]

[The dead say nothing without my will.]

What the fuck is this? Am I legitimately trying to out monster this Doll? It's not even a contest.

A rumble sounds from its chest, and the frame picks up speed. [And what the Mistress does not know cannot weigh on her mind.]

Does it see her as fragile? Prone to feeling guilt over meaningless deaths? A Witch of her capabilities?

Four individuals, two pack-beasts, and two linked wagons. Effortless. They fall before they can even turn to the sound of this vicious weapon’s form slashing through the air that does not slow or turn to watch them fall.

[I will not lie to her, unlike you, defect.] 

I pulse amusement to blunt the shape of my words before continuing. 

[When the walls of Salzige come into sight, slow down as fast as you safely can so I can alter your appearance to pretense at being a Witch, at the same time I will end my harvest and the tides can wash away any evidence. It is important to avoid unnecessary questions and to get a private room with a bathtub.]

[Walls?] A few annoyed skittering sounds whirl through its frame but... It does as demanded. Beginning to willingly fold away quill and cracked jaw full of fangs. Then the causeway gives way to open land and a sudden rising of the roots that previously only wove at most ten feet above the sand and waters now rises five times that. Twisting and whirling and forcing even this one to slow and more carefully navigate the crooked paths. [You truly are ignorant of these lands, aren't you?]

[Obviously. I have not had time to integrate 58's memories properly, but once I do I will have at least a partial understanding. Is there some sort of identification we require for the city then?]

[What? Like shouting names at the mundane as they cower behind one of those walls you seemed to think would save them? No, old parasite. So long as this one enters with talons and fangs and quills sheathed none will demand anything but jade and goods for the room you demand. Only a voracious Witch seeking to steal from the Mistress would be a worry, and she's Tuned this frame to muddle any commands they may level upon us.]

[The walls of old were woven of stone and bone and Ousia, built over generations to protect against the Greater Denizens and the Hagswarm. Somehow defeated since my imprisonment and forgotten as nothing more than oaths. Begin retracting your better features so I might repair your clothing, little monster.]

[The Mistress will find that all fascinating. But... You had an understanding of this one at 'Defect'.] It thrums, then cracks and twists all but the four arms away. [Now, make sure to remain still and as a mundane weapon. This one can secure you a quiet place to heal the Mistress.]

[I will teach you better soon enough. Accepted. Inform me of when we reach our destination, I will retract my field to avoid notice.]

It thrums at me with a poorly suppressed bit of annoyed melancholy sent through the bond and obeys as I rapidly mend the clothing it wears. This so-called defective Doll carries us up an inclined path woven through a large Root that eventually leads us up into a settlement atop and within. 

I hate being near blind, and trusting this one who calls me parasite. Important. Trust. Be Patient. fine fine.

It wanders through crowds, more humans than I expected with how much everything seems to have collapsed. Seems to be other travelers, some street merchants, more than one cutpurse that wisely avoids us, and a number of heavily scarred soldiers mingling with the rest. It takes longer than I would like but after an exchange of what I believe to be gemstones, we arrive in a private space that it closes tightly.

[Inform this one of what you need to heal the Mistress.] It thrums as it peers about the room.

[Fill the bath with as cold water as possible, strip her and place her in it. She should wake near instantly, but must be prevented from leaving the icy water until she understands what is happening.]

It doesn't hesitate and is able to strip away her clothes with minimal tearing after triggering the bath to fill, which it does in roughly thirty heartbeats. Then, while keeping limbs wrapped about her to protect and restrain, lowers Elevar's unconscious form into the chilled waters.

I flood the liquid with my Physis, dropping the temperature to below freezing as I pull all the heat into my own form so the exposure can shock her back to consciousness whilst slowing her blood flow and heart rate. The flesh I am secured to makes unpleasant sizzling sounds.

A slowed heartbeat passes, and then Elevar jolts awake with frothing fury. Sputtering and spitting curses in languages I only just barely catch and fewer I understand or think to be linked to any known tongues.

"Mistress. Mistress." The Doll thrums gently but firmly, restraining limbs taut as pure iron. "You've endured worse under my talons. Please be still and listen."

She only just stops from hissing her Physis into such a delightfully horrid weaving, stilled by its words as her glazed eyes focus on it. "Wh– wh– What?”

::Injury/Urgent:: I snap some Cant at her before explaining and she somehow stills even further, motionless. [One of the influences in your head has grown and is trying to kill you. It must be removed if you are to live.]

"Wh– wh– where?" She growls through clattering teeth. Physis and Ousia rising like a drunken serpent as her fury boils through the bond. Even causing her Doll's limbs to flinch.

[The… The one I was worried most about, attached to the optic nerve. It brings me no pleasure to be correct.]

"C- c- CUNT!" She hisses. But... not at me or her Doll. "Th- th- that ab- abb- solute..."

Physis weaves to support her Ousia, a wordless clumsy knife writhing up to claw blindly at the invisible thing to her senses.

[May I assist, or would you prefer to butcher yourself?] I snipe at her, how can I not when she risks her life pointlessly?

She spits and sputters. Reweaving the spell's foundation twice more before exhaustion and frustration causes it to fall back into her core as her body slumps farther into the tub. 

"G- get m- me out s- so I c- can spin this R- right." She demands.

[You will have limited time, likely less than you need, but I will not stop you here. We did not race across the Causeways to this place to strip you of agency once you arrived.]

Come on, don't be stupid here. Bloody woman, make the right choice!

She winces at that, head twists down to gaze into the water. Eyes dancing over the muddled flesh restrained beneath the surface by the monstrous limbs of her Doll. Such a mess of euphoria and raw disgust seeps through the bond.

"N- n- never Again." She growls through clattering teeth. "R- r- rather d- d- d-"

"Mistress..." The Doll thrums in pained fury. 

"No!" She hisses, able to jerk a hand free to point at its face. "I- if I c- c- can't st- sti- stitch myself r- r- right th- then I don't d- deserve this. D- don't d- deserve th- the freedom we t- tore fr- from th- that c- c- C- CUNT!”

[Is your life of such little value and your freedom so conditional? Prove that you are capable of being my Owner by facing down your fear. You are a Witch, soulbinder, stormcaller, fleshtwister, willweaver, and I expect more from one who uses the Arts of my greatest enemies.]

As her glare jerks up to regard my wrought Iron form, she does the worst thing. She laughs. A pained cackling furious thing. One that makes the bond bleed raw despair and hatred and sorrow drowning in such bitterness.

"W- Witches of y- your time m-must have been s- su- such i- impressive th- things!" She forces out through still clattering teeth. "Y- you'll b- be d- delighted to f- find us nothing l- like them! P- petty wr- wretched gerls pl- playing w- with old th- things they d- don't understand. Th- the lot of us! B- but at l- least I'll admit that, and l- learn f- from my mistakes. I- I'll d- die before I l- let another sh- shape my flesh w- willingly.”

[They were monsters who murdered us and didn't have the decency to let that be an end. Is that why you're so very disgusted by your Doll? Because they chose to be formed into something less than a person compared to me who was forced? Do you share that predilection or are you simply terrified of being Just. Like. Us?]

She flinches more than when I slapped her.

Honesty. Need to try. Regret otherwise.

I let down my defenses entirely, metaphysically baring my throat and stomach to this fool that I've come to adore. 

[Then do it. Turn me into naught but a tool aside from what you permit. Use me as an extension of your own will if that is what it takes for you to trust.]

That cracks something, ebbs the bleeding flow in the bond as her eyes go wide. Knowing that even with her Ousia and Physis clumsy and weak she could weave that binding around me. Quicker and stronger now than even before with nothing to fight off the initial casting, more solid. Harder and... and almost impossible for me to break. All the Ousia and Physis I gather would be nothing but more chains to twist around me. Combine that with the litany of a Witch Tone laid overtop…?

"N- no that's..." Elevar swallows hard, and such a great trembling overtakes her as she turns to look away. A symptom of the cold, yes, but also of such hunger for what I've laid before her. Then she slumps back into the freezing waters. Nerves numb, body drained, and mind floundering in war with itself. "I'm n- not... I re- refuse to b- be like her."

I feel relieved, but this isn't enough yet. It's not enough to want to be different out of fear. You need to want to be different out of love as well.

After a few dangerously slow heartbeats her Ousia and Physis flare, and for a brief pause it seems to me that she means to weave the Garrote. Yet, only a single thread flutters out to lasso itself around me. So small and weak it needs to use the bond I'd crafted to remain steady. 

A pause, and then such a scream rolls down this little spell. A thing of raw fury from the pits of Elevar's Ousia.

{getitoutgetitoutgetitoutgetitoutGET IT OUT! GET IT OUT!}

We will do as she wishes. Is it duress? Does it count? Does it matter? It should. It does. More precise. No modifying her. Adhere to her wishes.

I enfold our tether and her thread with Physis like I would embrace a lover. A genuine Bondsmith thread, something the Witches of my age could have never done. Clumsy and messy but proof that she is worthy.

With the sympathetic magic it enables, I dissolve the part of my Fleshform that mirrors where the aberrant is in her brain, liquifying the influence into blue sludge that I nudge under her eyes with Physis, and out past them like tears the colour of her brilliant blue Ousia.

I release the tether and thread before expending Ousia to repair the damage I've done to myself. 

Minor. Cosmetic. Brain is not real, just a simulacrum. Easily fixed.

"All of it." Elevar hisses. "G- get every scrap of that c- cunt's s- shite out of me and…" She pauses as the sapphire remains dribble down to her chin, then huffs. "And… a- and that gut you t- tore out of th- that gerl. M- might as w- well G- go a- head w- with that too. I'll w- want a p- proper m- meal after a- all th- this."

[Your life is no longer in danger currently. Get warm, dress, and drink some water, then if you still wish this, I will do so today.]

I look through her eyes at the Doll, still quietly burning with the heat I siphoned from the water, such a pretty thing, not even slightly shifting from position.

Mine. Keeping both Doll and Witch. Forever.

 

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