[ P ] my mother, my monster

Wisteria Serenity

Euphoria purged a curving frame, blood strumming into muscles, charging her with boundless energy that made her feel like she could run for days as she proceeded into the heart of the fae. She was eager to tell her sister the good news so they may celebrate into the moon in every indulgent way as his scent still clung to her every hair as she still had not bothered to wash the days old blood off, though the crimson had long chipped away leaving no visual in tact. Free! Finally free of his horrid ring he had long placed upon her finger years ago when she was still so young and naive and her son’s adult face now etched forever in her mind though he did not follow her home. It was a pity but at least she knew what had become of him, there was no need to wonder what ungodly things he might be doing to their shared blood. It stung he had been too young to have seen her face last to remember her or maybe he was just too overwhelmed to show that recognition, it wasn’t like he could speak, born without a voice.

“Dearest Wynnie!” she called into the cold forest, reciting the nickname a couple times, quickly coming to a halt as she realized only her own paws were making any noise. Breath heavy. It was never a good sign when the fauna was silent and soon that chill she hadn’t felt would creep into her bones. “Belladonna? Wet Lips?” she said in a hushed whisper, allowing her voice to carry and echo along the trees, waiting for a call back but only the wind would pick up to her voice before a raven would caw its nevermore. That was not the voice of either witch, not that the boy would answer such an odd nickname.

Scavengers.

She didn’t question the way the wind pulled her fur, following its guidance along the maze of trees until it would stop, leaving her in front of a mound of snow, going horridly still before a large gale would send a shutter to mess up her fire pelt. There she would see it, the spinning of snowflakes being brushed off the mini hills to show her fur. Not just any fur as she slowly moved forward, hearing another call bellow into the eerie silence. She’d close her eyes and take in a breath before opening them again to refocus on the blues, blacks and rust furs. No. It was no lucid dream, she could feel everything fine. Looking a little longer she’d notice a crimson mixed in. No. Her legs would feel a bit heavier as she moved toward the figures more and more, starting to question what had happened rather than who or if it was real.

Witch hunters finding the last of the Blackwoods? It was an obvious option, a fair one as she could still remember the conversation of Mother Morgana.

She’d knock off some of the snow as she reached them, taking in scents, what enemy she could blame for this but there was nothing out of place, only the perfume of sap and nightshade. And iron. NO. It settled in the more she took in the scene, that merriment from moments ago fading and being crumpled like paper. There were markings on her long time friend, covered mostly by the boy's face. Zoltan. The name mounted into the back of her mind, lips parting just a touch tempted to yank his body from the woman to look both over further but they would close as she remembered that warning nearly two years ago. She would not move him but her gaze would lay on the dark face, a beautiful face. “This is what happens when you disrespect the fae and allow a boy to embrace your heart, Belladonna,” she breathed before lowering her face to gently press it between them to allow frozen blood to melt and stain her muzzle and cheeks.

There was no life, the healer in her knew revival was long gone, there was nothing she could do. Perfectly preserved by a merciful god. She had offered the other a way to rectify everything, make proper peace with the goddess but time and time again she had seen Elwynn use the names to only justify her actions yet toss it away at any inconvenience to her. Finally, it caught up to her, this was the fate she had sealed for herself, and it was too late to cure those failures.

A paw would melt some more of the blood from its crystal grasp, lip curling with both a sadistic pleasure and callus disdain of mourning she would not allow to manifest in full. Hopping a few steps back, she’d draw a circle around them the best she could with what she had, though the red would quickly dilute and fade as she went, having to take a couple dips of life’s ink to make a proper ring while uttering Gaelic chants. She’d stand there for a moment, staring between the two after she was done, taking in a lofty breath as she decided to honor the others wishes. Don’t harm the boy. He was her son, her sacrifice bound to her even in death. How poetic. She would keep it so. They would serve the fae in another realm. Forever till they might be blessed anew by the earth and the moon.

Slipping away for an hour or so, she would return with an assortment of ritual items: gems, bones, elixirs, flowers. Toiling to veil them, shrouding them in a blanket of petals, though she was agitated she was missing the means to light fires around them to allow incense smoke to bring their souls to the afterlife. “Mother of us all, gather us in your arms. Father stand by our side. Send us guidance,” she recited the tomes of old before speaking her own breath. “Take the hands of the ilk, bound ye a safe travel and blessed be your souls for the children to borrow. Do not fret sweet love…” she mused as she pressed a gentle kiss into Elwynn's cheek then Zoltan's crown with a less passionate fashion as she did not know the boy as well nor had she ever taken him as a lover; proceeding to finish her ritual for the fae to carry them away forevermore.

It far from over.

It had only begun.

-fade out into the moonlit night of ritual-

@Elwynn @Zoltan

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