The room was warm with the scent of sage, the candles flickered with growing fervor, casting wanton shadows on the wall. As the warlock's incantations grew steadily more fervent, the shadows turned to hands, grasping and reaching, clawing at the walls of the room as though trying to climb them. The spirits were listening, and they were answering- but they weren't the spirits he wanted.
"Led by the scent of sage, Abel veni foras. By the mark of my blood, Abel veni foras. By the lure of my will, Abel veni foras!"
He opened his eyes, and the room was far larger than it had been before, and devoid of everything except the mark he had made in blood on the floor. On the plane, his hand was flawless and unmarred; evidence of his projection unto a world separate to his own. He got to his feet, and called into the dark. "Abel!" He felt a hand reach for his shoulder, but shook it off once he saw the spirit's solemn face. An irrelevant soul. One with a message, probably, but not one he cared to hear. "Abel, are you out there?" More reaching hands, more spirits with stories and messages and a yearning for warm touch. He pushed through the growing crowd, "Where-" A retreating back that looked too familiar- the same cloudy locks, the same narrow shoulders. "Abel? Abel! Wait!" He moved with desperate abandon, clawing through the space, through the spectres. But the distance between them only seemed to grow, and suddenly he felt as though he were wading through water, like running in a dream. "Abel, please! Stop!" The figure paused, and hope caught in the warlock's throat. He was so close- Abel was so close. 'Abel' turned slightly, his face obscured in the dark.
And then he turned back, and kept walking, and Emrys blinked to find himself back in his room, the candles blown out, and the shadows returned to their rightful place. Standing up, his right hand was slightly sticky from the cut across his palm, and his cheeks were wet with tears of frustration. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Emrys promptly began to destroy his bedroom.
He was minutes into his rampage when the glutton appeared at his door, poking her head through to catch the shocking sight of his anger unleashed. He hadn't expected to get caught in the act, but his eyes still saw red, and he had no energy for explanations or excuses.
"Get out."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
On the eve of a number of Dark Baptisms, Emrys wasn't alone in his sleeplessness. Neo saw them- her parents, holding out their hands. Their smiles were warm, their words welcoming. But when she reached to hold them, their faces melted like wax, and their hands turned to ash in her own. Screams echoed about her as she found herself falling, and when she finally awoke, she was in a cold sweat.
By the time morning hit, however, one could never tell.
Her attire was adjusted in silence, her face unyielding, giving away no sense of a whirring mind, nor a deepset resentment. Nor the touch of concern.
She had never gotten to write her name in the Book of the Beast- she did not entirely know the ramifications that would follow. Perhaps the ills she planned to commit once she amassed enough power would result in a terrible fate. Perhaps she would burn. Then again, perhaps she would be rewarded for her dedication to revenge, her commitment to vindication. Perhaps He liked that in his witches.
To be honest, it was all only so relevant. It raised curiosities, and slight concerns, but it didn't cause her to waver. Nothing did, and nothing would.
She had a thirst to sate, and this was just another sip from the goblet.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Desdemona smiled at her reflection, as she was wont to. She wanted to ask Bodhi what she thought, but the girl, ever studious, had promptly left for the library early that morning. She tutted with annoyance as she once again noted her friend's absence, instead turning to Corvus, who sensed her gaze from his perch on her bedframe, and lazily opened one of his slate grey eyes. "Thoughts?" He gave her a long, considering look before his eyes shut again and he returned to his dozing. Des scowled.
"Asshole."
By the time she was finally satisfied with her appearance, Corvus had finally risen, giving her an apologetic nuzzle for his earlier sleepy dismissal before taking flight from her window. Des watched him go before taking one more glance in the mirror, leaving her room satisfied that, her night or not, she wouldn't be upstaged.
Emrys' own time spent getting ready had been considerably less enjoyable; his mind and sleep disrupted by memories of the series of events from the evening prior. He had never felt so close before, but instead of giving him hope, it had left him more resentful than ever, and he glared at his reflection, eyes touched by the shadows of sleeplessness.
"You look tired."
Emrys was used to Des just wandering in, and didn't even spare her a glance before replying.
“It's just nerves."
It was a lie, and an obvious one too. Des knew fully well that Emrys didn't get nerves. All the same, she could read the room even better than she could read her brother, and knew better than to pry. Or she should have, but then again, it was an important day, and after a moment of consideration, she decided that the air would taste better cleared.
“Still no luck with-?”
The never-cowed witch fell silent upon meeting his cool glower. Her first instinct should have been listened to; Emrys was clearly not in a sharing mood. Not even with her. She allowed her look of concern to turn into a reluctant smile, smoothly changing the subject. Whatever was responsible for the dark circles under Emrys' eyes, it could wait. After all, they had an important task ahead of them, and if she had any clue as to the source of Emrys' ire, another day of waiting would be little difference.
“Right, let’s get going, brother dearest. Bodhi should still be in the library. We'll pick up Neo on the way.” Befitting his mood, although he was indeed in the process of building up his usual pantomime of unwavering confidence, Emrys said nothing, sliding his hands into his pockets and following his sister as he had long-since learnt to.
By the time they met with Neona, and the two girls had exchanged their obligatory compliments, the mirage was flawless, and he glowed as the trio made their way to the library, finding Bodhi in her usual seat. Leaning over her, Des looked her up and down with a smile.
“I like it. Very 60's-housewife-married-to-a-millionaire-and-fucking-the-pool-boy.”
"Led by the scent of sage, Abel veni foras. By the mark of my blood, Abel veni foras. By the lure of my will, Abel veni foras!"
He opened his eyes, and the room was far larger than it had been before, and devoid of everything except the mark he had made in blood on the floor. On the plane, his hand was flawless and unmarred; evidence of his projection unto a world separate to his own. He got to his feet, and called into the dark. "Abel!" He felt a hand reach for his shoulder, but shook it off once he saw the spirit's solemn face. An irrelevant soul. One with a message, probably, but not one he cared to hear. "Abel, are you out there?" More reaching hands, more spirits with stories and messages and a yearning for warm touch. He pushed through the growing crowd, "Where-" A retreating back that looked too familiar- the same cloudy locks, the same narrow shoulders. "Abel? Abel! Wait!" He moved with desperate abandon, clawing through the space, through the spectres. But the distance between them only seemed to grow, and suddenly he felt as though he were wading through water, like running in a dream. "Abel, please! Stop!" The figure paused, and hope caught in the warlock's throat. He was so close- Abel was so close. 'Abel' turned slightly, his face obscured in the dark.
And then he turned back, and kept walking, and Emrys blinked to find himself back in his room, the candles blown out, and the shadows returned to their rightful place. Standing up, his right hand was slightly sticky from the cut across his palm, and his cheeks were wet with tears of frustration. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Emrys promptly began to destroy his bedroom.
He was minutes into his rampage when the glutton appeared at his door, poking her head through to catch the shocking sight of his anger unleashed. He hadn't expected to get caught in the act, but his eyes still saw red, and he had no energy for explanations or excuses.
"Get out."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
On the eve of a number of Dark Baptisms, Emrys wasn't alone in his sleeplessness. Neo saw them- her parents, holding out their hands. Their smiles were warm, their words welcoming. But when she reached to hold them, their faces melted like wax, and their hands turned to ash in her own. Screams echoed about her as she found herself falling, and when she finally awoke, she was in a cold sweat.
By the time morning hit, however, one could never tell.
Her attire was adjusted in silence, her face unyielding, giving away no sense of a whirring mind, nor a deepset resentment. Nor the touch of concern.
She had never gotten to write her name in the Book of the Beast- she did not entirely know the ramifications that would follow. Perhaps the ills she planned to commit once she amassed enough power would result in a terrible fate. Perhaps she would burn. Then again, perhaps she would be rewarded for her dedication to revenge, her commitment to vindication. Perhaps He liked that in his witches.
To be honest, it was all only so relevant. It raised curiosities, and slight concerns, but it didn't cause her to waver. Nothing did, and nothing would.
She had a thirst to sate, and this was just another sip from the goblet.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Desdemona smiled at her reflection, as she was wont to. She wanted to ask Bodhi what she thought, but the girl, ever studious, had promptly left for the library early that morning. She tutted with annoyance as she once again noted her friend's absence, instead turning to Corvus, who sensed her gaze from his perch on her bedframe, and lazily opened one of his slate grey eyes. "Thoughts?" He gave her a long, considering look before his eyes shut again and he returned to his dozing. Des scowled.
"Asshole."
By the time she was finally satisfied with her appearance, Corvus had finally risen, giving her an apologetic nuzzle for his earlier sleepy dismissal before taking flight from her window. Des watched him go before taking one more glance in the mirror, leaving her room satisfied that, her night or not, she wouldn't be upstaged.
Emrys' own time spent getting ready had been considerably less enjoyable; his mind and sleep disrupted by memories of the series of events from the evening prior. He had never felt so close before, but instead of giving him hope, it had left him more resentful than ever, and he glared at his reflection, eyes touched by the shadows of sleeplessness.
"You look tired."
Emrys was used to Des just wandering in, and didn't even spare her a glance before replying.
“It's just nerves."
It was a lie, and an obvious one too. Des knew fully well that Emrys didn't get nerves. All the same, she could read the room even better than she could read her brother, and knew better than to pry. Or she should have, but then again, it was an important day, and after a moment of consideration, she decided that the air would taste better cleared.
“Still no luck with-?”
The never-cowed witch fell silent upon meeting his cool glower. Her first instinct should have been listened to; Emrys was clearly not in a sharing mood. Not even with her. She allowed her look of concern to turn into a reluctant smile, smoothly changing the subject. Whatever was responsible for the dark circles under Emrys' eyes, it could wait. After all, they had an important task ahead of them, and if she had any clue as to the source of Emrys' ire, another day of waiting would be little difference.
“Right, let’s get going, brother dearest. Bodhi should still be in the library. We'll pick up Neo on the way.” Befitting his mood, although he was indeed in the process of building up his usual pantomime of unwavering confidence, Emrys said nothing, sliding his hands into his pockets and following his sister as he had long-since learnt to.
By the time they met with Neona, and the two girls had exchanged their obligatory compliments, the mirage was flawless, and he glowed as the trio made their way to the library, finding Bodhi in her usual seat. Leaning over her, Des looked her up and down with a smile.
“I like it. Very 60's-housewife-married-to-a-millionaire-and-fucking-the-pool-boy.”