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papercorgiworld · 7 months

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As the world caves in

To keep you safe Mattheo has to make a hard breaking decision. Everyone is suffering in this story and at the end you can chose for maximum pain or a happy ending, where love conquers all.

Mattheo x reader – Enzo x Ella (cameo) – Tom x Lyn (cameo)

Credit to this request about the song “As the world caves in” and this anon who sent in “Less and less”. I managed to squeeze in Mattheo, Tom and Enzo, but no Theo.

For maximum angst listen to Matt Maltese songs. Look, I blame these songs for what I wrote, I'm normally not that much of an angst person. I seriously had a tear roll down my cheek at some point. I added a lot of picture to make sure you know exactly how broken everyone is in this story. I would like to say happy readings, but it's more like sad readings this time, but there's also some fluff, so yeah, I hope you like it.

Important note: in this story only the caster of the memory charm, obliviate, can undo it. Also the lore concerning this charm and the one to implant false memories is confusing so don’t break your brain over it.

I. We’ll be fine

You carefully close the door behind you and the painting winks at you, reassuring you that your secret is safe. Quietly you check around the corner to make sure none of the disciplinary guards are around. Your heart pounds as you watch every shadow move afraid of getting caught. You see madam Pomfrey secretly signal you to stay put and you press your back against the stone cold walls of Hogwarts as Snape and his minions leave. You listen to the steps fading away and then look around to see if they’re really gone, before crossing the hall. Madam Pomfrey quickly closes the door behind you. “Did you manage to get the ingredients?” She asks with an urgent but hushed voice and you nod, handing her a bag filled with all things necessary for potions that ease pain. You’re scanning the hospital beds. There are innocent first years that suffered the Cruciatus curse as part of education. There are rebellious students with painful injuries. There are crying students covered in blood, simply because they were punished for being late to dinner. You’re shocked when suddenly Pomfrey wraps her arms around you and embraces you. “Thank you.” It takes a moment for you to adjust to the hug, but quickly enough you enjoy her warmth. It’s only then that you realise that you probably both needed it more than you knew. When she pulls away she looks at you with a brave face. “Thank you so much.” You smile, happy you helped. “Now hurry, go to your dorm and be careful.” You nod. “Be safe.” She whispers again and you smile before quietly closing the door.

Hogwarts looked so miserable now that the death eaters were in charge. You couldn’t help but feel haunted by the suffocating fear that spread through the castle. Even though you had done this many times before, you were still terrified of getting caught. Quietly and crouched down you move from statue to wall to staircase. Unfortunately, a foul smirking death eater caught your sneaking figure. “What have we here?” Instantly you feel your body being levitated as he comes into view. “Two hours late. You know what that means right.” Your heart races and your body tenses. “Cruciatus curse. Four times.” You struggle to escape the spell keeping you in the air, but to no avail and you watch him raise his wand. “Leave her.” You feel tears well up as you recognise Mattheo’s voice. “I asked her to meet me.” Mattheo says with a cold stern voice, not looking at you. You fall down hard, but Mattheo still keeps his gaze away from you. You look down at the cold tiles and again listen to the footsteps move away. Only when Mattheo is sure no one is watching he looks at you and you look at him. Slowly he walks over to you, kneeling by your side and wrapping his arm around you to help you get up. “I’m okay, Matt.” You whisper, but he’s far from convinced.

In silence he brings you to his room, near the slytherin common room. You still needed to get used to it, Mattheo having his own private room, separate from all other students. The room was cold and dimly lit. Mattheo struggled to make the new place his own and for some reason the room ended up reflecting his emotional suffering. Once you’re seated on one of the couches he kneels in front of you studying your face as he tucks a few strands of hair away. “Really Matt, I’m fine. You were just in time to save me.” You try to reassure him with a sweet smile, but he doesn’t want to hear it. He can see you’re exhausted from the stress, worries and secrecy. “I want you to stop helping them.” Mattheo whispers, eyes focused on yours. A slow breath leaves you as you empathise with him. You were worried about him all the time and you understood that every time you took a risk he probably suffered until he was sure you were safe. “Matt…” You start, but the tone of your voice already hints at a negative answer making Mattheo turn away from you. “I can’t take it anymore. It’s too dangerous. There are death eaters that are suspecting things and- I can’t- you can’t get hurt.” Your boyfriend looks back to you, but instead of meeting his eyes your frowning gaze is focused on a bruise near his jaw and neck. Your hands reach, but Mattheo immediately grabs your hand softly squeezing it and he looks so vulnerable in that moment.

Your heart ached as you realised that Mattheo probably suffered another ridiculous punishment from his father. “Let me heal you.” You whisper, when Mattheo allows your fingers to brush his injury. He rests his hand on yours. “No, it needs to stay for a few days. He wants it to be a reminder.” Your heart breaks at the pain in his voice. The abuse he suffered seemed to be worse than a simple Cruciatus curse and Mattheo knew you were feeling his pain by the way lips parted and your eyes shone with horror. He pushed himself up, joining you on the couch and leaning in to rest his head against yours. “We’ll be fine.” He whispers and you smile. “I know. No one can break us.” His parted lips search for yours and you meet in a tender kiss. His hand finds your cheek as the kiss becomes more passionate.

II. Tonight we are brave

Enzo unfolded a little snake folded paper that had made its way to his dorm. Ella watches him and feels her heartbeat quicken, but when Enzo’s eyes meet hers, her heart skips a beat. Tonight? “Mattheo wants us to leave tonight.” Enzo affirms her suspicion and Ella nods with a clenched jaw and brave eyes. When Enzo gets up to start gathering their stuff, so does she, but when he notices her unsteady figure he walks over to her. Ella’s eyes stare deep into her boyfriend’s eyes and he smiles at her, recognizing her fear and bravery despite it, kissing her forehead as a silent way of telling her that all will be alright. “Enzo, I’m terrified of what Voldomort will do if he finds us.” He stares at her, seeing the fear not just in her eyes, but in her whole body.

It was heartbreaking, but they had no choice. Sooner or later Voldemort would find out about what the lot of them had done. How they had helped students escape. How they had informed Harry Potter and his friends about everything going on at the death eater table. How they had countless muggle borns in hiding all over the country. All they had been waiting for these past few days was Mattheo’s call so they could take you with them. You were too involved, you had to go into hiding.

“We have to be brave, sweetie. So we can stay together. So everyone has a fighting chance.” Enzo says with a determined voice. Ella wraps her arms around Enzo’s neck and slowly his hands move to her back, holding her close and squeezing her tight as a reminder that he wouldn’t let her go.

III. goodbye my love

Was it horrible or wonderful that the last moments you spent together were unknowing and in intimate love? Mattheo lay next to your sleeping figure, his fingers featherlight as they brush your soft skin. You are so beautiful. So perfect and pure. I hope you can forgive me, because if I live I need you to forgive me. I need you to understand that what I do, everything I do, is because I love you and I want to be loved by you. Mattheo closes his eyes as he breaks his own heart and goes through with his own plan, reaching for his wand. He casts a spell to make sure you continue sleeping for a few more hours. With a clenched jaw he watches you and swallows, not allowing tears to well up and gritting his teeth as he casts another spell. Obliviate.

Sitting at the edge of the bed Mattheo tries to take a mental picture of you, not knowing how long you will be away, not knowing if you’ll ever see one another again. A knock at the door makes his dead eyes look up, before unlocking the door with one flick of his wrist. Ella gives Mattheo a sympathetic smile as she enters the room. “Enzo’s preparing the carriage.” There’s a silence and Ella can’t help but feel like there’s no air in the room. Without saying anything Mattheo lifts you from the bed to bring his sleeping loved one to a carriage that will take her away, somewhere she can’t be found.

Ella crawls next to you in the carriage, wrapping a blanket around the both of you. Enzo sighs and walks over to Mattheo who forces his eyes away from you for the first time since this evening. “I know it’s risky, but you can still come. It’s worth the fight.” Mattheo's dead eyes meet Enzo’s and there’s a silence. “I’m not risking her life just to spend a few more days with her while being hunted down.” Enzo opens his mouth, but Mattheo shakes his head and stops him. “No, don’t. I can’t be selfish with her. Go.” Enzo swallows and gives his friend a curt nod. “She’ll be safe.”

It strikes midnight and Mattheo watches the carriage in the distance until it turns invisible. He doesn’t want to feel the pain and holds his breath as he dissociates from the moment, hiding somewhere in his own mind.

You’re safe and you’ll live and that’s all that matters.

You’re strong and you’ll find happiness and that is all that matters.

IV. No light in this life

Like an empty vessel Mattheo moves through the hallways in the direction of his room. That last spark of magic in the castle had disappeared with you. When Mattheo nears the last staircase he spots the frame of his brother at the top of the stairs. “You send her away.” Tom’s voice is monotone as he watches his younger sibling look up at him. In silence and with his head down Mattheo moves up the staircase, his brother’s gaze locked on him. When he arrives at the top, he still doesn’t look at Tom, but he does nod. “Father will notice.” Tom warns, voice cold. Mattheo’s jaw twitches in anger with his brother. “He won't, she's just another student that escaped his tyranny.” Tom raises his eyebrows at the slightly harsh tone. Mattheo takes two steps in the direction of his room, before turning around to his brother. “If our father ever finds out about her I promise you, I’ll make you live for an eternity, knowing that you are the reason I killed the love of your life, because I swear I’ll destroy that little happiness you possess in your miserable life if-” Tom bites back hard. “Don’t worry little brother as far as I’m concerned you never loved anyone and no one ever loved you.” As horrible as it sounded Mattheo knew it was his brother's way of reassuring him in his own twisted way that their father would never know about you. Mattheo nods and turns around with haste. Tom watches him leave and even when he’s gone he continues staring. With you gone Tom had lost his brother.

That night Tom is more quiet than usual, but that isn’t odd these days. It’s his gentle eyes watching her that make Lyn get up and walk over to him, kneeling down and cupping his cheeks, forcing his eyes to meet her. A single tear runs down Tom’s cheek. “I regret bringing him back.” Tom whispers with a hoarse voice. “I never meant for any of this to happen.” His voice finally cracks and he turns his face away from Lyn, but she won’t have it, forcing him to meet her eyes once more as tears roll down his cheeks. “I know.” Is all she whispers before embarrassing him. When it’s all over, we’ll leave… leave it all behind.

Wind gushes against the window and Tom rests his head on Lyn’s shoulder as he watches the miserable weather outside. Mattheo feels that same wind through his hair as he stands at the astronomy tower holding a cigarette and staring into nothing, wishing he could turn it off, all those feelings. Only having the thought of ever seeing you again, one day, maybe, as a beacon of light to keep on surviving whatever is coming.

V. All that matters

There are two endings. For maximum angst: choose the second one (I’m not responsible for the sadness you will feel afterwards). For more fluff and happiness: pick the first one.

The 🥹🥰 version

Every night you dream of Hogwarts. There’s music in the great hall and a man, who asks you to dance with him. You gracefully take his hand and as sad as the music is you feel happy in his arms. When a harsh gust of wind startles you both, you look at him and say “We’ll be fine. No one can break us.”. Then you always wake up and you feel empty as you stare around your room, looking for him. Who are you? This night had been no different, but the morning was as you heard your friends argue in the kitchen.

“No, I promised Mattheo to keep her safe.” Enzo whispers, but it’s a loud and tense whisper. Mattheo? Your heart swells at the name and you don’t understand why. “Luna’s letter says the battle is happening. They need help.” Ella whispers with pleading eyes as she moves closer to her boyfriend. “Why don’t you both stay here and I’ll go.” Enzo says embracing Ella and resting his head against hers. “You promised you wouldn’t do what Matt did, we would stay together through it all.” Ella whispers as she pulls away, her eyes meeting Enzo’s fearful ones. “I wanna fight and I want to meet him, this Mattheo person.” Your voice is hesitant and your friends stare at you standing in the door opening of your room. Enzo squeezes Ella a little closer and sighs, but Ella just smiles at you. No arguing with a girl in love.

The battle at Hogwarts was won and Lyn runs to you, hugging you tightly. “I’m so glad you're safe.” You hug back and see a familiar figure come into view, but there’s something about him you can’t remember and you can’t help but frown. “He’s at Malfoy manor.” Tom says and you instantly know he’s talking about this Mattheo person, the one you’re looking for, the one you need to find without knowing why. “He’s locked up, but he’s alright. Well, he’s alive. Wasn’t easy convincing my father to let him live.” You feel your heart race and Lyn lets go of you. “Tell my brother… tell him I’m sorry.” Tom whispers and Lyn reaches for his hand and smiles at you. You remember enough to know that they have to leave and nod. “I’ll find him.” You say and an amused half smile tugs on Tom’s lip. “No doubt.” Gently squeezing hands, the couple apparates, leaving you determined to find Mattheo, still not sure who he is to you.

Though the battle at Hogwarts had ended, there was still resistance at Malfoy manor. When you arrive with Ella and Enzo you immediately need to cast a protection spell. When one of the spells hits Ella, making her stumble and fall, Enzo answers with a devastating spell blasting down the death eater and the wall behind him. The other enemy is left staring at the three of you in shock and Enzo raises his wand with determination. “I’m marrying that one so don’t think about casting another spell.” After a second of consideration the last death eater apparates and Ella turns to Enzo looking impressed. “What? You thought I was all looks and no fight?” Enzo quips with a cheeky smile and Ella chuckles. “Marrying me?” She asks, not being able to contain her bright smile. Enzo nods, realising he spilled his secret plans.

You interrupt their kiss before it turns into a make out session. “Hello! I would still like to find the moron who made me forget who he is, but I still keep on dreaming about.” It still surprises both Enzo and Ella that your love for Mattheo had not only found a loophole to the obliviate charm, but also continued to feed your determination to find a man you could not remember.

Mattheo had heard a lot of commotion outside and his bruised and tortured body couldn’t help but flinch in pain at the thought of what was going on. He stares at the locked door of his room, focussed and mentally preparing for whatever is coming his way now. When the door forcefully swings open he clenches his jaw and for several seconds his worn out eyes stare at you emotionless. Your eyes scan Mattheo and you so desperately try to remember anything about him as you know for sure you know him. “(y/n).” He whispers, still tense but eyes softening. For a second you search for words, but then you decide that it’s pointless and run towards him. Your arms wrap around his neck and you close your eyes. Your soul was finally at peace. You had found what you were missing all these months. Mattheo struggles to breath as his lungs seem to fill with air for the first time since he sent you away. He feels warmth again. His vision seems to change as his mind finally clears. When he hears soft sobs coming from you his hands finally move and he holds you, stroking your back before wrapping his arms around you and pressing your body against his, needing all of you to even believe that it is really you.

“I want to remember.” You whisper in between sobs and Mattheo’s body relaxes at the sound of your voice. You pull away a little so you can study his face, adoring his eyes and brushing over the fresh scars on his face. Mattheo hesitates to undo it because he’s scared of having that happiness back. You see the fear in his eyes grow as he takes in every piece of you. “What are you afraid of?” You whisper. Mattheo stares deep into your eyes and he can’t help but be honest. “Love.” You chuckle and give him a warm smile. “I love you already and I know I’ll continue to do so, whether I remember or not, I know I’ll love you forever.” You reach for the wand you had found earlier, knowing it belonged to him. “It’s over. We won. It’s okay. They didn’t break us.” Mattheo’s hand wraps around yours, holding his wand. His lips crash onto your soft ones and you can feel his tears against your cheeks. His other hand holds the back of your head as his forehead rests on yours, eyes drowning in one another.

You hear a soft whisper and then all memories start flooding back. The quidditch games. The late nights at the astronomy tower. The yule ball. Laughing in the hallway. Winks and smirks during class. Intense study sessions. Sweet, messy nights together that had you wishing they would never end. And that last evening together.

The 😭😢 version

It’s chilly, but the sun is shining and radiates a gentle warmth. Tom stops, taking in a deep breath and Lyn squeezes his hand, encouraging him. While Lyn watches him Tom approaches you sitting on a bench, enjoying the sun while reading. He smiles and there’s so much going on in his eyes, too much for one soul to bare. “Good book.” Tom starts and you look up, giving the stranger a polite smile. “Mind if I tell you an even better story?” You look confused at the man in front of you and the reason you say yes is mostly out of politeness. “It’s about selfless and unconditional love.” Tom explains as he sits down next to you. “Oh, I would love to hear about that.” A genuine relief fills Tom’s eyes as he can sit down next to you. “It’s about some extraordinary people, Enzo and Ella, and… my brother, Mattheo, who loved a girl named (y/n).” A chuckle leaves your lips. “That’s my name as well.” Tom's eyes get glassy as he watches you. I know, but how I wish you knew his name.

Suddenly your chuckle falls and you look away. “Matt! Be careful!” Tom’s eyes snap in the direction you were looking. Tom’s eyes meet brown ones, unmistakably his brother’s… and the kid smiles at Tom. “Matt?” Tom whispers as his nephew approaches him.

Word count: 3497

Feedback is always welcome.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #enzo berkshire #tom riddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #papercorgiworldwritings

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theoutcastrogue · 8 months

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This is petty but that's never stopped me.

In the Vox Machina campaign, Scanlan Shorthalt's resounding success in matters of tactics [this post isn't about roleplaying] was partly due to Sam Riegel's skill, and mostly due to the fact that 5e Bards are just that good. However! The "gnome bard" combo was famously chosen by Liam, after Sam, who'd never played d&d before, asked what's the silliest, least powerful and least badass thing he could play. That was his character concept. And at the time, Liam was not wrong to answer "bard". In 3rd Edition/Pathfinder, Bards DID suck, at least out of the box. You could build a strong Bard in Pathfinder, but you had to optimise to high heavens with carefully selected feats and spells and items from various sources. It didn't just happen spontaneously, and it was still nowhere near the raw power and versatility of a Wizard or Druid. Bards played support.

So at lvl 9, they started streaming and switched from Pathfinder to D&D 5e. Scanlan got an ENORMOUS power boost at that point, but Sam was still harbouring under the impression that his chosen class is not powerful or badass at all. And as they kept playing and he kept killing it (he was brilliant at it, no doubt about that!), he presumed that he was killing it with one hand tied behind his back, because he was just a silly little gnome bard. And, he emphatically wasn't silly. He was a whole-ass full caster, top tier class right there.

Pathfinder Bards are half-casters. If they hadn't switched to 5e, Scanlan wouldn't have access to 7th and higher level spells: no Mordenkeinen's Magnificent Mansion (a signature spell), no Dominate Monster (this is how he made the goristro fight Vorugal), no Reverse Gravity (big moment in the first Ripley fight), and no Wish (kind of a big deal!). Other spells aren't in the Bard list, and there's no Magical Secrets in Pathfinder: he wouldn't have access to Bigby's Hand (another signature spell), Otiluke's Resilient Sphere (how he got rid of the efrit, and Ripley), Lightning Bolt and Stinking Cloud (his standard damage spells), Polymorph (that's several giant eagles including the "now smarter" Grog (this will never stop being funny), and of course the legendary triceratops), or Counterspell (kind of an enormous deal). And all the other spells would have come later: no Seeming at lvl 11 = no cows. (What a loss! No cows!)

And it's not just access to spells, it's also "likelihood of spells to work", which depends on the DC, which in Pathfinder depended on spell level. Lower level spells had a lower chance of doing anything, by virtue of being easier to resist. And half-casters got a slower spell progression, and ended up with significantly less power overall. Whereas in 5e spell level is irrelevant, spell DCs depend on your character level, and that's that. Even (Bardic) Inspiration got a boost from the switch. All in all, we're talking about a spectacular upgrade.

So a tragic misconception happened: Sam got it into his head that he's so good at d&d that he can gimp himself and still kick ass. Well, he can't.

When he played a Rogue (no big spells, huh? no cheat sheet!) he sucked at it and he hated it. And now that he plays a Cleric and actually, actively gimps himself (he said in a 4-Sided Dive that he deliberately avoids cleric spells that others have used before in CR, which by now is most of them, and certainly the best of them), he very predictably sucks at it too (I mean relatively speaking; it's still a full caster), and he doesn't love it. The one time he was BRILLIANT was when he had a top tier class to work with, and used it to its full potential. But he thought he was gimping himself, because he was thinking of a different game/edition than the one he was playing!

I wanna grab him by the shoulders and shake him up and say my good man, you gotta stop this "I gimp myself" -> "I fail to kick ass" -> *surprised pikachu face*. CHOOSE. Either gimp yourself and accept you won't be kicking any ass, but it's okay because you enjoy roleplaying someone like that more than you enjoy kicking ass, OR stop gimping yourself and kick ass, because you do enjoy kicking ass, don't you?

Both are great! I approve either way! But choose.

I also wanna grab Liam by the shoulders and tell him "Wizard or Sorcerer! For the love of all that's green and good in this world, next time Sam asks you what class to play in D&D, tell 'im Wizard or Sorcerer!". But then I remember that next time they'll probably play Daggerheart and not D&D unless WotC makes them an offer they can't refuse, so the whole thing is moot.

#scanlan shorthalt #critical role #how to rogue #d&d #5e #3.5 #pathfinder #crunch #bard #trs #sam riegel

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forgeofthenine · 10 months

Note

Hello There ! 👋😊

I have a request for Zevlor if it's OK...! 🖤

It may be a bit specific, so feel free to only pick the elements you like !

The general idea would be "shy!pining!Tav asks Zevlor for a lock of his hair before the final battle. "

As for the optional details, I was thinking tav would be a cleric (of Sêluné, but if you have another deity in mind, no problem!) who would enclose this lock of hair in a locket or a cameo. You'd have to have the strand of someone you love deeply and unconditionally to create a very powerful Protector spell on the caster. The 'donor' (in this case, Zevlor) doesn't have to feel the same for it to work. (even if he does feel the same of course 😉)

Bonus point if Zevlor learns of this spell AFTER the end of the story, post!canon.

Feel free to pick only what interests you or ignore this request!😚

Smooches!

Hi Beardy! I loved writing this one and the prompt was so fun!! It doesn't have Zevlor finding out and the reader is a bit less shy, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. When I have less requests I'd love to potentially write a part two for this that includes Zev figuring things out! <3

The locket of hellrider protection

All that could be felt in the room was the thick, stiff tension. Despite multiple rousing speeches, mere words couldn't drown out the sounds of the cities destruction as it collapses to rubble. The dim light in the hall reveals the worried faces of the dozens of inhabitants.

Stray rocks crunch and grind under your boot as you cross the crowded room. Weaving through Harpers and Gur, waving towards your fellow cleric of Selûne as she stands with Dame Aylin. Others smile or nod towards you, familiar tieflings all standing next to an excited owlbear that is suddenly ten times the size you remember. Finally, you make your way to the one person you wanted to see, the composed tiefling standing near the door.

He looks better than when you last saw him, no longer covered in bruising and slime after his time in the mindflayer pod. As you approach Zevlor perks up, eyes brightening as he quietly clears his throat. A small nod is sent your way as you come to stand in front of the tall tiefling.

"If it isn't my favourite paladin, you look well Zevlor." You greet, a tone of relief in your voice as you mention his looks. The tiefling really does look better, a good colour on his cheeks, his posture taller with shoulders pulled back. He looks even more attractive than you remember.

The flush on his face deepens, Zevlor breaking into a small smile at your words. "Such high praise from one so heroic. The way to Baldurs gate has been full of strife, but I'm glad to see you here." The paladins voice was raspy, the slight edge to it that's always there, and the mere sound after so long sends a shiver down your spine.

"As am I, I must admit I was worried after we last met." You can see the way his shoulders tense slightly at the memory of the Shadowlands, of the mindflayer colony. "But, I'm glad to see my worry was misplaced. Though, I do have a favour to ask, before we have to leave." Your eyes shift around the room, seeing everyone stirring and readying to leave. You're almost out of time.

Zevlor realises the same, giving you a polite nod. "Anything you'd like, I and my hellriders are at your service." His words are earnest, soft, despite the high tensions and bustle of the room. The tieflings endless composure is reassuring, even as the world falls down around you both.

"I won't ask for much, only a lock of your hair if I can." The question is still hesitant, knowing it's an intimate request. Still, despite the initial widening of his eyes and a momentarily look of shock, he pulls his hair free from its styling. It falls around his face, framing the light blush you can see in the candlelight.

"Feel free, it's the least I can do for someone that has done so much for me." Zevlor bows his head, letting you take what you'd like. The hair under your fingers is soft and thick, your fingers running through it lightly as his eyes come gently to a close. Carefully, you bring a sharp dagger up, freeing a lock of dark hair that comes to rest in your palm. It's tiny, entirely straight, but it will fulfill its purpose just as the two of you will.

As Zevlor straightens himself, he watches you place it in your locket bearing Selûnes symbols. His eyes peer curiously as you bring the lockets chain back over your neck, the metal casing holding a piece of him close to you at all times. "Thank you, Zevlor. You... I appreciate this, so much." You tell him, bringing a hand gently to his bicep.

His own hand covers yours, so incredibly warm even through his leather gloves. "Whatever you need, whatever I can provide." He promises, the words said only for the two of you to hear. Though, even without hearing the words, there is one person in the room giving you two a knowing look. Isobel, another cleric of Selûne is aware of just what you've asked, her own locket with Aylins hair warm against her own skin.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #zevlor x tav #zevlor x you #bri answers

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watfordgrimoire · 4 days

Text

Summer of Shakespeare

To be or not to be -- acts as a coin flip; caster's object with either glow bright white or become shrouded in shadows

Two may keep counsel, putting one away -- prevents whom it is cast on from being able to speak of a secret (forbidden spell)

Let slip the dogs of war -- draws in nearby canines

What light through yonder window breaks -- creates sunlight through the window it is cast on

If you prick us, do we not bleed -- creates a pinprick wound

To sleep, perchance to Dream -- sleeping spell (has a chance to cause the sleeper to have vivid, lucid dreams)

Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown -- creates a heavy, golden crown

Get thee to a nunnery -- creates a route to the nearest convent

Take arms against a sea of troubles -- pulls in nearby weapons (only works if near a body of salt water)

In nature there's no blemish but the mind -- removes acne

If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well / It were done quickly -- speeds up electronic appliances (causes the appliances to shut down if cast incorrectly)

A man can die but once -- used by superstitious mages to ward off vampire attacks

The good is oft interred with their bones -- buries objects it is cast on (can also be used as a finding spell when cast with the correct intentions)

It's Greek to me -- translates text to Greek

My kingdom for a horse -- summons nearby equine

Neither a borrow nor a lender be -- if someone owes you money, takes any cash/coins they have on them when cast

Nothing will come of nothing -- cleaning spell

Brevity is the soul of wit -- silencing spell (only allows for a few words while the spell is active)

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day -- heats someone up to the average summer temperature of the area

You have witchcraft in your lips -- enhances the next spell cast

Friends, Romans, Countrymen -- amplifies the caster's voice

Lord, what fools these mortals be -- stunning spell

The course of true love never did run smooth -- rumoured at Watford to cause a couple to break up if cast on them

Now is the winter of our discontent -- snow creation spell (only works when the caster is unhappy)

All the world's a stage -- creates a temporary, basic stage to use for performances

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and other have greatness thrust upon them -- superstitious mages cast this on newborn children in order to increase their depth of magick

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind -- temporary blinding spell (only works if the person it is cast on is in love)

Conscience does make cowards of us all -- scares away nearby creatures

To suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune -- an arrow creation spell

Frailty, thy name is woman -- weakening spell

It is not enough to speak, but to speak true -- forces whomever it is cast on to tell a truth

I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me -- causes nearby dogs to bark

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy -- finding spell

The lady doth protest too much -- reveals if someone is lying

The whips and scorns of time -- attacking spell

I am a man more sinned against than sinning -- shielding spell

Good wine is a good familiar creature -- wine creation spell (difficult spell)

We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep -- when cast on someone who is sleeping, has the chance to allow them to bring small objects out of their dreams (difficult spell)

O wretched state! o bosom black as death! -- dyes objects black

Muddy death -- creates a mud puddle

Lay aside life-harming heaviness / And entertain a cheerful disposition -- cheering up spell

And, most dear actors, eat no onions or garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath -- cures bad breath

If after every tempest come such calms, / May the winds blow till they have wakened death -- creates a wind storm

None can be called deformed but the unkind -- reveals if someone has betrayed you, causing them to be covered in boils

Deny thy father and refuse thy name -- name changing spell (can apply to first, middle, and/or last name depending on the emphasis of the words)

The evil that men do lives after them -- creates weapons out of human bones (forbidden spell)

To thine own self be true -- temporary self-confidence increasing spell

Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once -- used in battle to try and scare the opposition into retreat (difficult spell)

Blest be the man that spares these stones, And curst be he that moves my bones -- cast on graves to prevent graverobbing

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and gets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more -- silencing spell (forbidden spell)

And through this distemperature we see / The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts / Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose -- creates a layer of frost

It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing -- causes whomever it is cast on to babble uncontrollably

For there was never yet philosopher / That could endure the toothache patiently -- eases toothache pain

God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another -- temporary disguise spell

Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind -- reveals if a suspect is guilty (not always reliable as it can be tampered with)

Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains -- stabilizes piles of soil or rock

Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd -- helps boats steer safely into harbor

The empty vessel makes the loudest sound -- drains glasses of liquids (also creates a loud sound)

Though she be but little, she is fierce -- shrinking spell

My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it will break -- undoes silencing spells

#watford grimoire #summer of shakespeare

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paganwitchisis · 4 months

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The Price of Freedom Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Intimacy and Confessions

Rated E for EXPLICIT!!

Word count: 3,752

Warnings for whole story: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! Abuse, torture, smut, oral sex, rape, healing, beatings, dismemberment, breeding kink, act 3 spoilers, canon divergence, blood, violence, graphic depictions (It is Cazador after all)

Previous chapter - here

You're on chapter 4

Next chapter - here

AO3 link is here!

RATED 18 PLUS

“Well, you know the saying? Don’t look a gift mimic in the mouth!….Or… something like that…”

Astarion chuckled “Horse…mimic….what’s the difference? They both bite.”

Tav looked at him confused, but Astarion just dismissed his correction of her phrase. For a few more hours, Astarion and Tav spoke on things that were now necessary, as well as informing her what he told Karlach and Shadowheart in regards to the limiter that Cazador put into his spawn. This seemed to enrage the woman.

“When we get back, I know you have qualms about Gale for…other reasons, but can he see if he can remove this limiter? If we can make you stronger, it may help us to get the last Netherstone.” Tav purposely avoided mentioning the upcoming fight with Cazador. Her and Astarion had been fighting as of late over what to do with the Rite of Profane Ascension. Astarion was using fear to push him into thinking he needed to making a choice in seizing the power, but Tav, fearful for another reason, objected. She was afraid of what would happen to the sweet man sharing the bedroll with her right now. She never did like the idea of making deals with any devil or entity, and this would also irk her because that was what this rite was. It was a deal. Sacrifice souls just to gain power? Sounds like a recipe waiting to go wrong. What if Astarion lost his soul? She never spoke that fear out loud.

“Tch….fine” Astarion obviously disapproved of having Gale work magic on him and try to ‘fix’ him, but with a child on the way, he wasn’t going to squander any chance he got to gain an edge over anyone who would hurt his family. “Now, we really should talk about this baby. With the new addition, we’re going to have to watch it with the fighting. I know you’re our fighter, but if we have Karlach or Lae’zel with us, you won’t need to be in the crossfire so much. I’ll have your back, of course, and then you can throw a spell caster if you like, or…whomever in, but I would really appreciate my ma…um…lover and our child were safe. We’re near the end, I can’t…I won’t let anything happen to you.” Tav looped her arms around the pale elf’s neck and brought him closer. She kissed his jawline and asked something she was wondering before tackling the potential argument about her and fighting.

“You were going to call me mate, weren't you? Like what the other guy called me. Why? What does that mean, exactly?” Tav brought her hand up to Astarion’s face and rubbed the soft pad of her thumb over his cheek bone. Astarion shifted his eyes to look anywhere but her when he began to answer.

“It’s silly.”

Tav moved her arms so that she was hugging the pale elf and squeezed him lightly, urging him to continue. Astarion held her back, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He raised his head slightly to speak to her ear. “It was…suggested among the spawn that vampires only have one real mate. One real person out there who was meant just for you. Like a soulmate, I suppose. Of course, like most things, Cazador overheard or knew of our discussion. He was rarely as unhinged as that day. From what I could gather, something happened with his master regarding that subject back when he was a spawn, and because of that, all talk of mates or believing we would ever find love was stricken. Cazador tortured us for a good decade for that transgression. He would only force potions on us to lure back our victims. Sometimes I still feel like I have phantom pains of left over glass in my skin or…Well…You know what he is like.”

Tav held him tighter and drew her leg up and over his before she replied. “Do you think I’m your mate?”

Astarion pulled back to finally look her in the eyes and pushed his lips against hers hard. Their mouths moved in perfect sync as they deepened the kiss. Of course Astarion pulled away, aware of her fragile state before his kiss would deprive her of oxygen. Astarion spoke against her lips once he pulled away.

“You’re my everything, so how could you not be my mate? I…I never even acknowledged that term until the other vampire mentioned it. I…I wasn’t sure if it was something real…if the word and term were real until then. Does it bother you if I call you that? Or that I feel that way?”

Tav shook her head no immediately before bringing her body flush to his. Astarion held her tighter and kissed her neck, her cheek and finally her lips again.

“I’d love to be your mate, Astarion, but you can only call me it if I can reciprocate and call you it back. For so long we weren't exactly sure where we stood. With the baby…it will be nice to call you that. If you feel comfortable with me calling you my mate back, I mean. I’m not a vampire but…”

Astarion took her lips again as he considered how bruised he would leave her lush mouth. Astarion whispered against her lips his reply since he cut her off.

“I am forever grateful your heart beats, my love, but to answer your question? Please. Please call me your mate.” Astarion barely got the words out before he set his lips back on his mate’s. Tav couldn’t help the low moan that slipped out which earned Shadowheart’s ire.

“Don’t make me create water over you both…cold water.” Shadowheart threatened.

Astarion smirked and brought his arms around his mate snugly. “Hear that, darling? We may have to conserve body heat if Shadowheart makes good on her threat.” Astarion taunted with a lewd grin, eliciting mirthful giggles from Tav. This made Astarion give off a genuine smile of his own. Astarion reached over to his bag and grabbed his waterskin as he held it out to his mate who greedily devoured the clear liquid. Astarion figured she would need some considering how often he shared her lips and her current injuries.

“You know, I have no qualms about fighting smarter, but I won’t remove myself from fighting, by the way. I also won’t pull back to the back line just because I’m pregnant now. This may be your child, but it is still my body and decision. I’m willing to compromise though. Maybe I’ll pull back to the middle instead of the front lines if we use Karlach as the meat-shield.” Tav whispered to a frowning vampire.

“I heard that! You better be behind me with my niece or nephew on board!” Karlach yelled from her bed roll on the other side of the room. How she heard was anyone’s guess. Astarion still chuckled nonetheless at Tav’s groan of frustration when it seemed others were against her being near the front lines again.

“As long as you’re safe…both of you. That is all I care about, darling.” Astarion muttered against her lips and held her close, his hands resting on her backside as he pressed her flush against his body. Tav stifled another moan or they would suffer Shadowheart’s irritation once more.

That night, the couple didn’t really talk much about the baby, or the threat that it posed to her health by existing. Astarion worried about all of this, of course, but this was a conversation best left for the comforts of privacy. Astarion and Tav merely cuddled and held each other that night, frequently Astarion held Tav to his chest. Her back to his his front and he held her snugly while whispering sweet nothings in her ear as she drifted to sleep. Astarion went into his trance shortly after as he clutched her to him tightly. His last thoughts before falling into his trance was how much she mattered to him and dare he say, possibly love her, but he wasn’t ready to have that conversation yet. He was getting closer day after day, especially after this revelation, but he still wasn’t sure what love was. One day he thought he would know and could tell her, as he was fairly certain she had claimed his undead heart, but not yet…soon.

About four hours later, Astarion awoke from his trance to see his mate sleeping peacefully in his arms. Astarion smiled and watched her turn and snuggle into him some more. He wrapped an arm around her, and for the next few hours, thought about being a father and what that meant to him. He thought about the future and what he could do after the fall of the Absolute to provide for his child. He knew that they were butting heads as of late about the Rite of Profane Ascension, but if he could steal Cazador’s work and walk in the sun…imagine the future he could gift his heir? On the flip side, if he was constrain to the shadows again, if he was just a spawn and powerless. What kind of example would that set, and how could he protect his family with meager strength? He knew she would disagree, but Astarion was afraid. He was afraid of a future where he couldn’t provide for his family, or a future where he couldn’t protect them.

“I love you, Astarion.” Tav whispered in her sleep and snuggled into Astarion’s chest all the more tightly. Astarion may have never known what a home felt like, but this felt like it to him and no matter what may come, he would do anything to protect it. The future still wasn’t set and he still respected his mate’s opinion but if Cazador ever got wind of her and what she carried, let alone her impact to him…No. He refused to think of a future without her. A future where his old master would sink his claws into all he cared for. Hells, he almost lost them today. He couldn’t get the memories and the feeling of her life essence hitting the palm of his hand as it struggled to escape her throat and out of his hands. Astarion was distressed, and in the early morning hours, merely half an hour or so before the rising of the sun, Astarion felt the intense need for privacy with his love. The need to seek comfort with her and remind himself of her life and her beating heart. Astarion knew she needed sleep, so instead he rested his head on her chest so her strong and consistent heartbeat could lull him to a better sense of calm than what he was currently experiencing.

“What’s wrong, love?” Astarion heard in his head and realized Tav was speaking to him with the help of the tadpole. Her eyes were open and she gazed at him lovingly, a small smile on her lips as she drew close and kissed his cheek when he rose his head to look at her. Her kiss was too much and not enough all at once. His chest was tight and a sob almost escaped him as the dam almost broke through of his emotions. Astarion leaned forward and although gentle because of her injuries, he took her mouth quickly and caged himself over her. Thankfully, Shadowheart and Karlach had long been asleep, so he didn’t have to worry about disapproving glances.

Astarion couldn’t help the very low moan escape him as his tongue entered her mouth nor his hips slowly rocking against hers. He smiled into his kiss to find her pushing back into his hips and kissing back as hard if not harder, her leg then coming out to hook around his waist. Astarion pulled his lips back to kiss her jaw line while he communicated via the tadpole.

“We need to stop, my sweet. The others….although normally I wouldn’t care…I…your noises and body are mine. I don’t feel like sharing.”

Tav knew better, of course, she knew for a bit that something was bothering him, but she dared not call him out on it.

“Let’s go to the other room.” Tav suggested via the tadpole. No sooner had she suggested it did strong arms encircle her waist, and with his rogue-like skills, quietly left the room with her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. The door was closed behind them and Astarion put her down gently before he pushed a table against the doors for privacy. Thankfully the doors were near the table so he didn’t make much noise, so when they stilled for a moment after, there was no movement being heard on the other side of the door. Astarion closed the distance between the two and passionately took Tav’s lips again while his hands made quick work of her trousers before he pushed them down along with her undergarments. Tav moaned deeply but jumped when she felt dexterous fingers enter her and the man growl against her lips.

“You’re not wet enough, dear.” Astarion huskily said as he started to lay down.

“Well, I did just wake up…” Tav replied while Astarion gripped her hips and brought her closer to his face.

“Let’s fix this. Sit on my face. Let me taste you. You taste so damn good.” Astarion’s hard on was evident in his trousers as his hips gyrated occasionally. Tav was going to reply but whatever words she had died on her tongue when Astarion took a lap of his tongue using the flat side of it between her labia. He didn’t tease her like he usually did. Instead, he alternated between sucking and licking her clit, and after a few minutes, she found herself on her second orgasm. Astarion, thankful that he didn’t have to breathe, dove further and sunk into her cleft. He devoured her, using his nose to stimulate her clitoris while he drank her in.

Tav reached back and freed his cock from the tough confines of his leather trousers, earning a gasp of relief and pleasure from the elf between her legs, and a moan that vibrated against her flesh. Tav gripped his base and began to stroke him, but Astarion, eager for touch, began using the hand to jerk himself with his thrusting action. Although it was Tav’s hand stimulating him, he was the one jerking himself off, which of course didn’t take long to bring him close to his end. Astarion had to still his hips and pull his head away from his prize after her second orgasm or else he would threaten to spill his load before doing what he wished.

He wanted to still make love to her. Something he never did before. Something he felt he had to do. Something he needed to do to prove she still was alive and well below him…to show her everything he couldn’t say and to show how he felt about the gift she had given him that was nestled in her belly. Astarion quickly switched position and caged his mate below him before taking his cock in hand to line himself up with her wet and beautiful cunt.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? You don’t have to do this if you aren't. I’m fine with waiting.“ Tav rationalized in case Astarion was pushing himself.

“I want this. I want you. Now, I will only say this once. It bothered me when I almost lost you both. It still does, so please let me feel how alive you are. Stop worrying and let me make love to you.”

Tav mouthed the word ‘love’ in shock before Astarion’s mouth was upon her and his cock has speared her in one quick motion. Tav’s eyes rolled back in her head and her vagina clenched around his cock. Astarion passionately kissed Tav deeply like he had been all night, his left hand held the small of her back and held her close as his hips rolled slowly. The slow roll of his hips ground himself deep into the soft spongy area Astarion was familiar with, the erogenous zone that he drove into when he would help her chase release, but in this case he wanted her to feel good rather than seek out another orgasm. Astarion pulled away from kissing the woman so she could breathe easier since she was still healing.

Tav moaned and Astarion brought his right hand up to her left breast through the clothing she still wore on her upper half. He played with the mass, his thumb over the nipple and massaged the breast with the entire hand. Tav looped her arms around Astarion’s neck and leaned forward to suck on his flesh, leaving an angry purple bruise of her own. This made Astarion chuckle.

”That’s right.” Astarion slammed his hips into her to accent this “I’m yours” This only made Tav moan louder and Astarion loved it. He loved feeling her alive and hearing her heartbeat speed up under him. He loved making her feel good but most of all, he loved that he was present. He did not disassociate during the act once. Astarion sped up a little so he wasn’t teasing his love.

Astarion stopped playing with both breasts at this point and instead he picked up both legs at the knee and began pounding into her at a faster and deeper speed. Astarion wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out and he wanted her to come before he did. Astarion dropped the top of his hand to her clit and circled it with the pad of his thumb. He could see her throwing her head back and forth. She was close.

“Bite me!”

“I can’t. You almost died! You need time to get your blood back.” Astarion upped the speed once more so he was pistoning his cock inside her. Astarion was in complete bliss but it took everything in him not to spill himself before she crested first.

In a blissful stupor, Astarion spilled something from his mouth he still was deliberating. Something he was sure of but was scared of. Something that although he was sure, he told himself a myriad of excuses as to why it can’t be true and so he needed more time. Essentially it boiled down to him being so drunk on sex that Astarion said something he never would during sex that he could not take back.

“I love you, Tav.”

Tav crested with this and threw her head back. Her body convulsed and contracted as Astarion felt the tissue surrounding his cock get tight and throb. It was like her body was pulling and drinking him in, begging for his spend so Astarion let go and gave her it. After two more thrusts he stilled for a moment and then slowly rode out the orgasm as his come coated her insides. The entire time he was present, he was aware and he felt everything. This was new to him. This was exhilarating and felt like nothing he ever did before. It was by far the best sex he’d ever had, too. Considering this was the first person and only person who chosen him regardless of his past and loved him. The only person who made love to him rather than fucking him and forgetting him? Astarion could see why this was so different and why they mattered so much. It was in this moment as he was coming down from his high that he remembered what he said.

Did he love her though?

Just looking at the tussle haired goddess in front of him who would give and had almost given her life for him, he knew the answer. She had given him a child. She had helped him in much more that that and soon, they were going to gain his freedom. Astarion chuckled. He may be slow on the uptake he thought to himself because he really did love her. He thought he needed time. He thought he needed a comparison. He thought he needed a great many things but he needed only her.

He loved her.

Withdrawing his length from her and trying to not let his spend coat the floor much, Astarion laid down next to her and held her close. He kissed her deeply and she moaned into the kiss, bringing her hand up to his cheek and tracing his cheek bone with the pad of her thumb. A moment later he pulled back to let her speak.

“Not that I’m complaining, that felt really good, but what got into you? I thought you weren’t ready yet.”

Astarion just smiled. “It’s simple. I’m ready now. Between you being pregnant and what happened yesterday. I needed to feel you alive…”

“But…”

“I was present through it darling. I can make love to you.”

“So…because I was hurt you wanted to have sex?” Tav was confused still. “And what does being pregnant have to do with this?”

Astarion sighed and kissed Tav on the nose before answering the questions.

“I needed to feel you alive and well, and with the pregnancy? Something about you being pregnant makes me want to take you again and again. It’s like I have a basic need to fill you now that I know you’re carrying life. It doesn’t make sense, I know it doesn’t make sense, but that doesn’t stop me from getting hard at the thought of your swollen belly in a few months. I can’t keep my hands off you, my sweet.”

“If you are okay with it and it doesn’t bother you…then it doesn’t bother me. I enjoy being intimate with you but I am just as happy with waiting if you would rather wait too. You are what matter to me, not sex. You.” Tav kissed Astarion’s forehead at this who smiled.

“That’s why I love you so much. Even with all the hormones flooding your body, making you want and changing you to carry our baby, and yet you still put my…complications first.” Astarion whispered against her flesh as he kissed her cheek and nibbled her earlobe.

“You said that during sex, too. Do you mean it?” Tav asked, now propped up on her elbows.

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topoeiaz · 2 months

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Chapter 1: From Me to You I'd Love to See Me From Your Point of View (HP) Tom Riddle x OC

18+ blog • minors dni

word count: 2.3k

hp masterlist • pov masterlist • ao3

Mid-June, 1943, Hogwarts found itself housing a petrified student of one Myrtle Warren. The cause of her near-demise had been the bare eyes of Slytherin’s basilisk, who had met Warren’s eyes under the hissed order from its current master.

Tom Riddle had not expected someone to be in the room when he decided to call on the serpent. Most of the school’s population had left for their Hogsmeade trip that noon and a glance to the bathroom stalls had told him that none were occupied. As it had turned out, the one stall that was in use had been warded and charmed to contain the caster’s sobs and imitate the next stall’s appearance of unuse. Warren had always been a studious girl, striving to represent her house of eagles ever since her sorting ceremony. Her unfortunate constant as a victim of bullying meant that she knew certain tips that would help evade her tormentors. Hence, her precautionary spells to the stall she had turned to for comfort. It was just unfortunate that this had led to an unwelcomed ordeal.

The click of a door and a feminine voice calling out had Riddle panicked. In that split second, he had to quickly come up with an escape route, and what better than to get rid of the witness to his schemes? After all, dead men tell no tales. The basilisk obeyed his rash decision easily and looked straight ahead at the trembling girl. However, graced by Magic, it seemed, the room suddenly lit up in blue and an almost-translucent creature passed by its vision just as Warren locked her eyes with the serpent. Having exposed to its fatal eyes indirectly, the third-year did not collapse lifelessly and instead, stilled in her spot, eyes wide with surprise clear on her face.

Setting the situation with Warren aside for the meantime, both, Riddle and the basilisk, turned to regard the glowing newcomer who was now looping in the air to reduce its momentum to a slow pace. As it drew closer to the flabbergasted pair, Riddle managed to make out its feline form in all its regalia; whether it was a leopard or a panther – or whatever else, really – he wasn’t well-versed enough in the topic to pinpoint its species.

Now standing only an arm’s reach away from him, he noticed that it was holding onto something oddly shaped with its mouth. It jutted its chin out and he tentatively placed a hand out which seemed to be the correct thing to do as it then leaned in to drop the object onto his palm. Upon closer inspection, the – gift? – turned out to be a paper crane, and its imperfect folds and creases told him that the person behind all this unexpected confusion had manually crafted it. A glance to the big cat showed its patient eyes looking right back at him and he surmised that it wanted him to do something with the paper.

With narrowed eyes, he aimlessly unfolded the crane into a piece of square paper, each step exposing the ink on it which eventually revealed to be words:

Restricted Section, Shelf 23, Title: Soul Maintenance

Satisfied with Riddle’s actions, the patronus chuffed out lightly and stepped back. He watched in hidden awe as it pranced into the air and took speed in leaving the room, back where it came from – that is, through the wall. The light blue tint to the room vanished along with the stranger and Riddle paused for a moment to process his current predicament.

“Master. The girl.”

The hissing snapped him out of his thoughts and his gaze fell onto the unmoving student. Filing away the memories of the patronus and the book recommendation to further examine later, he sighed as he considered ways to deal with Warren. Using an Unforgiveable to kill her off would undoubtedly raise alarm in the Hogwarts magical wards so that was out of the question. There were ways he could take her defenceless life and stage the scene to imitate an accident, but one misstep would make the perpetrator traceable and he couldn’t risk that. Perhaps now was the time to take advantage of Rubeus Hagrid’s secret pet and pin the crimes onto the unsuspecting Gryffindor. The petrification aspect could be explained by the venom of the Acromantula after all.

Riddle gave himself a moment to fully foolproof the plan, giving his serpent partner the order to lie low as usual in the chamber. A solid plan, he decided. First and foremost, he needed to obliviate Warren. Set on his task, he ignored her unrelated memories and focussed only on the ones he needed. It wasn’t until dinner that day that he learned of his victim’s name.

It was a solemn meal that night. Headmaster Armando Dippet had explained Warren’s situation and shared that the second-floor girls’ bathroom would be closed off for the aurors to investigate the matter. Aside from acting to blend in amongst the crowd’s surprise and fear, Riddle paid half his attention to Dippet and gave subtle glances around the hall in hopes to catch a hint of the caster behind the patronus charm earlier. Whoever it was, however, seemed to have their guard up and Riddle left dinner just as clueless of their identity as ever.

Back at the Slytherin Common Room, under the privacy of a ward, Riddle reassured his circle of friends that the investigation would not give away their involvement in the situation. They shared his bafflement when he told them of the mysterious interruption and their letter, none of them any wiser of the possible suspect, to his dismay.

He had borrowed the book that the note had named earlier that day, making use of the Restriction Section pass that Professor Horace Slughorn had entrusted him with. The subject of the book gave him an inkling that whoever the author of the note was, they seemed to have clocked onto his interest in Horcruxes. That was a terrifying thought and there was now a dreaded possibility that they would divulge his secret.

And so, he added another point to his to-do list: prepare a defence for a confrontation of his fascination with the Dark Arts.

The odd thing behind this entire event, besides the mysterious person seemingly knowing his plans, was their willingness to keep his secrets. True, the timing of the patronus and Warren’s situation could have been a mere coincidence, but he didn’t like to leave things up to happenstance. There was now an unknown variable in his plans and so, he had to disappointingly put them on a pause. Their existence was throwing him into a spiral and he could already feel his head hurting. He was never a fan of uncertainty and this prolonged enforced vigilance was already tiring. Magic on his side, however, it wasn’t long before he came to learn of their identity.

June passed by without any more petrification of the student body. The culprit behind Warren’s unfortunate situation had been caught about a week after it happened and words spread that Hogwarts had Riddle to thank for. Riddle’s plan a success, Hagrid was apprehended for the crime, citing that his Acromantula had been the cause of Warren’s petrified state and that he would be expelled from Hogwarts for the danger he had brought upon the school.

The semester ended on that note and soon enough, the students were boarding the train back to London.

Paying half a mind to the chatter of his friends around him, Riddle spent most of the ride with his eyes trained on his book. His thoughts occasionally wandered to the patronus that he had been graced to see in close distance. The Patronus Charm was a highly advanced magic that many schools had apparently decided was too difficult to bother including it in the syllabus. As far as he knew, only some Hogwarts staffs were capable of such magic and they were high on the list of suspects he had considered. To be able to maintain their patronus for a long period of time and have it understand its caster enough to pass on a physical message to someone, he wondered just how powerful the big cat patronus’ caster was.

Bemusement was significant that day when he had met the feline, so it was only afterwards when he had a chance to look back on the occurrence that he had felt the patronus’ effect. It was subtle as he only had his subconscious memory to rely on, but the feeling of calmness had definitely touched him. In hindsight, perhaps that was why he had even bothered to entertain the situation and pay heed to the patronus without losing his total cool. The patronus wasn’t his so it felt odd to feel emotions beside his own. It was weird enough that that was possible to experience – how exactly do you explain feeling another set of emotions that wasn’t yours? Accompanying the peace was elation and pleasantness, and he felt a twinge of bitterness when they felt unfamiliar to him. There was a reason why he could never manage even a wisp of Patronus magic.

Now, as the train slowed down to a stop at King’s Cross Station, he was reminded of the poised figure that stood proudly in that dingy bathroom; the way it emitted the faint but distinct glow onto the room and the rush of magical energy that made up its being. The beauty that Magic was capable of had never failed to impress him and it disgruntled him that the traditions that had shaped Magic into what it was now were being taken away to incorporate more muggle ones. Gone, were the cultures that celebrated Magic.

Clearing his thoughts to ground himself back into reality, he grabbed his belongings and made his way out of the train. Just before he could bid his friends goodbye on the platform, he heard a call of his name. All nearby heads turned to see a girl approaching Riddle with an unfailing bright expression, a plain paper bag in hand. This was a familiar sight to many; a girl seeking out Riddle with a confession of love, only to receive a – feigned – empathetic rejection from the boy. He could almost feel the pitying gazes around them and yet, the nearing girl didn’t let that deter her.

Despite the absence of her trunk, Riddle recognised her to be a student. It’d be slightly concerning if he didn’t, seeing as they have had multiple classes together throughout the past five years. They had never shared a conversation together, however, apart from the quick greetings when they would recognise each other. Theana Grace was friendly enough of a year mate.

Mirroring Grace’s cordial smile, Riddle greeted her equally once she had stopped in front of him. “Grace. How can I help you?” He had no doubts that stories of his rejections have made its way throughout his year so, giving credit where credit was due, he applauded her unwavering confidence.

Except, the expected confession did not leave her lips.

“It’s been a while since then but I do hope that Pinky left a good impression on you.”

He had a quick flashback to the bathroom incident with how unexpectedly confused she had rendered him and he simply blinked at her. “I’m sorry- Pinky?”

“Oh! My panther, I mean.”

His lips parted in surprise and his mind halted at her revelation. There was no mistaking which panther she meant and that was two questions answered. One, the identity of the reason behind his unrest this past couple of days; and two, what breed of cat the patronus was.

With these two thoughts ramping up in his brain, he couldn’t have possibly confronted Grace with her actions at this moment, in public, so he settled onto the next quick thing he could think of. “I was unsure if it was a leopard or a panther.”

Amusement widened her grin and she held back a chuckle at seeing Riddle with his mind in chaos. Years of examining him unnoticeably in school meant that she could pick up on the tiny tell-tale signs of his inner voice.

“I’m no expert in animals either but I’m fairly sure they’re the same breed.”

“Oh.” It wasn’t often that Riddle felt stupefied.

Deciding to cut him some slack, Grace decided to skip the small talk. “As for why I’m here, I’ve got a gift for you.”

She brought her paper bag up and extended it to him, who, in his stupor, accepted it with only little hesitation. He was beginning to theorise that a patronus reflected their caster, in which, both of them had done a great job at catching him off-guard.

“What…”

“I thought you might like these titles so I’ve picked a couple out.” She glanced away for a moment to the station’s clock and he felt urgency when he knew what was coming. Before he could speak, however, she was quick to continue. “Sorry, I’ve got someone waiting for me so I should head home now. I’ll see you next semester?”

“Wait-”

She took a step back and he unknowingly followed after her with a foot forward. Her apologetic look was enough to wrap up their talk and he reluctantly sighed in defeat. “I’ll see you then, Grace.”

With a final bid of goodbye, she turned away and he watched as she made her way to the designated floo system in the station. A rage of green flames, and she was gone. As if she had taken his sense of calmness away with her, he felt frustration settle in his bones when it clicked in his brain that he would have to spend two months without a way to appease the curiosity in him about her purpose.

Ignoring the way some onlookers were gaping at him – they couldn’t hear their conversation so all they had seen was Riddle seemingly trying to stop Grace from leaving – he acknowledged his friends’ puzzlement with a simple, “that’s our mystery patronus person.”

More surprise, understandably so.

None of the boys had ever talked about her, him included, so he had no hope that any of them knew anything about Grace. That would change come next semester, he promised. But for now, he had a gift to unwrap.

ao3 🌱 topaz 🌱 masterlist

don’t steal my work, claim it as your own, upload it to another site, or use it to train AI

dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive & @saradika-graphics

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp #hp fanfic #tom riddle #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x oc #tom marvolo riddle #tom marvolo riddle fluff #tom marvolo riddle x oc

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songofsutarima · 1 year

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Lifetime Love

Aloof, cold, withdrawn.

Yelling before dawn.

Mean, angry, scared,

Slashing and hissing when challenged or dared.

How this is all that some can see,

I must say, is totally beyond me.

Well, not totally, but certainly beyond,

And to them, I respond.

Have patience, sit and wait,

Have stillness be your state.

The approach will come, eventually,

And then trust can be gained, potentially.

A chase doesn’t work for someone faster,

Neither do charms for any spell-caster.

But with quiet presence and calm

They will eat from your palm.

“They scratch and are rough!”

They’re showing love tough,

And what they’re asking is

“Will you stay long enough?”

They need to know how much it’s worth,

For how much longer after a kitten’s birth,

You will stay and love them

And give them safety on this earth.

It’s a test, and an important one at that,

So they and your arm get in a bit of a spat,

Because if you will stay for the punishment,

They can trust you in combat.

“I’m always awoken, in the middle of the night”

Because they want you to see morning’s light.

And because it is comfort to be so very near

And vulnerable with one you hold dear.

To some it sounds and, apparently, appears needy,

But you keep all your attention to yourself, and that’s greedy.

You’re the whole world to them, and they just want a little of you,

Because they know you have a whole other life after them too.

#poetry #rhyme poetry #poems on tumblr #poem #cat appreciation

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indianspellcaster · 1 year

Text

Love Spell Casters Near Me

Love Spell Casters Near Me | Spell To Make Someone Contact You

Love Spell Casters Near Me - Bring Ex Love Spells Caster Near Me

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lunawoona11 · 1 month

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I would eat up as much as you’re willing to share about the Rose Twins, honestly. I’ve been a bit obsessed with the Lindworm story since seeing the OSP video on it, and another comic by someone (and I also love that Edel is a girl like the white rose was meant to give the Queen).

Thank you so much! the story is still in the early development stage but i'd be more than happy to share more(And i know what you mean, the OSP video is what inspired me to create the rose twins)

before i go on another tangent. The Rose twins now have Profiles on toyhouse! which goes into detail about their personalities and backstories.

With that out of the way. Lets get into the (disjointed) lore.

in the setting of rose twins every landmass(Island, Continent, islet,etc) has a soul, known as an earth spirit, with the earth spirit of the Island Decerith sits on being called Eversyl.In some cases nations will be named after the Earth spirit of the landmass on which they stand, though not always especially in the cases of nations that span across multiple islands and thus multiple earth spirits. Though normally incorporeal, it is has been said that earth spirits will take form in times of great crisis.

Legend tells of the lost Continent and the mageocracy of Ivapherus that once stood there alongside many other countries. They speak of how the high mage council sought to harness the power of their earth spirit for their own by trapping it, but instead ended up destroying it causing the entire continent to sink into the sea.

Magic in this setting in a volatile force, though anyone has the potential to wield it it is extremely rare to find someone who will take the risk to do so and even rarer to find someone who succeeds. Magic is extremely difficult to control and requires near perfect execution and concentration and failing in either can result in dire consequences, inflicting curses on the caster and often the surrounding area, a wound that never heals.The curse that affects both of the rose twins and their mother was a result of the queen botching up a magic ritual by eating both roses instead of just one,and comparatively to how other curses in the past have gone, they were relatively lucky. People Like Zeris Firamain are known as Mage scholars, they study the history and mechanisms of magic but do not dare attempt actually casting a spell(Considering that wielding magic is the equivalent of wielding a nuclear bomb)

Lindworms are rare creatures, though documentation of their existence is substantial enough that only a few still think of them as being mythical, much about them remains a mystery even to the most learned of scholars.(To the point Edelweiss has never even seen another Lindworm)

The Hardships and Tragedies brought on by the perpetual winter have led to desperate measures being taken by Decerith's citizens in order to survive. This includes some resorting to banditry just to be able to put food on the table and even some who poach rare creatures (Like Lindworms) to sell their sought after parts.

The losses caused by the perpetual winter and the kingdom being ill-prepared to deal with it's sudden appearance have also bred some resentment for the royal family, leading to the formation of groups acting out on this blame, the most notorious and prolific of these being Wulfrost.Wulfrost seeks to assassinate the crown prince in order to deprive the queen and king of their only child, just as so many of them have lost loved ones to the winter(And they very nearly succeeded when Rowan was younger)

That's all i'll be able to share for now without diving into spoiler territory. But hopefully sometime in the future i'll be able to share some writing snippets. Thank you again for the ask anon!

#the rose twins #edelweiss(oc)#Rowan(Oc)#lore dump #asks #fairy tale #fairy tales #prince lindworm #lindwurm #lindworm #original concept #rose twins #my characters #original story #original character #original characters #my ocs #ocs #oc stuff

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bestastrologerinusa · 2 years

Link

Love Spell Caster in Washington

Free of charge online Love spell caster in Washington helps people to get their relationship back by solving the breakup disputes between them with mantras.

#Love spell caster in Washington #Free love spell caster in Washington #Online love spell caster in Washington #Love spell caster in Washington near me #Best love spell caster in Washington #Top love spell caster in Washington #Famous love spell caster in Washington

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letters-from-dekarios · 6 months

Note

(I'll be writing this from the perspective of my bardlock if you'll indulge me lmao this is such a cute concept, kore!!!)

Greetings from the jewel of the North!

Hello, I hope you found my bottled letter, I tossed it in a river on my walk home (I hope the seal worked). I am a musician and a very talented spell caster (not to reignite the hells of course) it's just turning to winter, so I think I'd like to keep a pen pal to keep me warm. I have a few questions- if you don't mind..

1. What is your favorite tea

2. What is your favorite cake

3. If you could travel to anywhere in ferûn where would it be.

(enclosed is a sketch of a teifling with braided hair chowing down on a cake. Below it is slightly scribbled "my answers on the back!!" )

It is signed

Lia Obbon

House Obbon, Neverwinter

Dearest Lia,

I do hope this letter finds you well. In both good times, and bad, it is always nice to have someone to correspond with. I wish you all the best as you continue in your journeys.

It was much to my surprise that this bottle happened to land near me. Rarely do I indulge myself in catching a cold during this time of season but, alas, here I am.

I do have to add, your craftsmanship with the sealing of this letter left much to the imagination! It was sealed quite tightly, I almost believed I hadn’t been meant to open it.

Perhaps, a day in the long distant future, you will be able to prove your magical skills to me. I’ll have you know I am a fairly talented magic-user myself. Chosen by the Mother of the Weave, Mystra, at a young age, I do fancy myself a spell or two.

Though I’ve not dabbled in the arts, any further than a doodle or two, your rendition of what I can only assume to be yourself is lovely.

Ah, I’m sure I’ve bored you well enough with all my talk. It’s about time I answer your questions.

1. While you can never go wrong with a traditional green or herbal, I pleasure myself in a nice black tea. Somewhere along the lines of the Earl Grey family, I’d say. Quite the pleasure with a bit of milk and honey, if you ask me.

2. I tend to stay away from sweets, but I cannot help myself when placed in the reach of a good chocolate cake. Mundane, I know, but there is something about the richness of it that I must indulge in.

3. I hail from Waterdeep, there’s not too much you can go wrong with here. However, I have always wanted to venture out towards Procampur. The city there is rich with history, to be able to even get a mild glimpse of our past as a civilization would be enough satisfaction for a lifetime.

I hope my answers are suitable to whomever you believed would receive this message. It surely has come a long way since you wrote your first letter. Perhaps the following spell will do you well as winter comes to a head.

Attached is listed the instructions for performing a ‘fireball’ spell.

Since it would be awfully rude to not ask you a question or two, I’ve come up with a few of my own.

What is your go-to spell in any situation you’re thrown into? Don’t hold back on this one- I’m a man of many studies, you can’t confuse me with my focus in life.

What is your favorite food? Mine happens to be a soup made by my mother. Though a grown adult now, there’s nothing like the love of a home-cooked meal.

Lastly, but certainly not least, why don’t dragons eat paladins?

The answer, written on the back of the paper, reads ‘Because they taste lawful! Good one, isn’t it?’

I do hope that this reaches you before winter’s end. Stay warm, my friend, and don’t let the frost giants bite.

From the desk of,

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒔, 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑

text reads: gale dekarios, waterdeep

#baldur's gate 3 #fanfiction #for you #for you page #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #bg3 gale #gale fluff #gale fanfic #baldurs gate gale #letters #writing #send asks #answered asks #anon answered #send anons #anon ask #answered

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localartnerd · 11 months

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I can't Lose You Again! (The Arcana One Shot)

“Caster, I’m home!” Asra called through the shop, setting his stuff down.

“Friend?” Faust hissed, sliding off Asra’s shoulders and onto the counter, only to be greeted by Fauna, Caster’s familiar. Fauna ran in circles around Faust as Asra ventured further into their home to look for his partner.

“Gone!” Fauna squeaked out, skidding to a stop by the edge of the counter closest to Asra.

“Gone? What do you mean ‘Gone’?” Asra asked, turning to Fauna.

“Left!” Fauna chirped, Asra’s face fell at the thought. Caster left without Fauna? That was damn near unheard of from the blonde. Asra ran to their room, hoping to find a note, or something that said where they went. He knew they had been struggling, it was nearing the time they died, they always seemed to struggle more around this time of the year. Grieving the person they used to be. What they could and couldn’t remember.

Upon entering the room, Asra found a folded piece of paper, with his name written on the blank backside. Beside it, was Caster’s ribbon that they wore to keep their hair up off their neck. They vowed never to leave the small shop without it. Asra felt what was left of his heart sink into his stomach. He picked up the folded paper and opened it, his eyes scanning each word.

Asra,

My love, I am so deeply sorry to put you through, Selene, Julian, and the others through the pain. I simply couldn’t handle it. By the time you read this, I am sure I will already be gone. There is no point in looking for me, I will have already been gone for hours by the time you’ve reached the shop once more. Asra, my shining light, please, take care of Fauna for me. Tell Selene, Vivian, and Portia that I wish nothing but the best for them, and you, my love. Please, find love once again. I was not your only option. Live on for me.

I love you, I am sorry I couldn’t continue on for you, but please, continue on for me.

Forever yours,

Caster Paisley.

Asra couldn’t help but feel choked up, he tossed the paper down and grabbed the ribbon, tears welling up in his eyes. He held the ribbon close to his chest, letting out a choked sob. He rubbed his eyes harshly and went to the front doors of the shop. He used magic to try and sense his partner, hearing a racing heartbeat on the other end, he knew they were still alive. Somewhere, but alive. The heartbeat was faint, meaning Caster had gotten pretty far, but it was racing, they were running, fully alive, but running, or so it seemed like it. Nothing seemed out of place in the shop, so Asra couldn’t imagine what they could possibly be doing, or where they could be going. Asra looked around the streets of Vesuvia and decided to head towards the woods. Maybe Sly or Muriel had seen them? Gods he hoped so. Asra didn’t know what he’d do with himself should Caster actually go through with whatever they were planning. Asra ran past the few people who were still out and about, before he reached the woods. He continued to run until he was out of breath in front of Muriel’s hut, where Sly was outside.

“Asra? What are you doing here?” They asked him, tilting their head and setting their book down, Inanna going up to greet the out-of-breath magician.

“Have.. have you or Muriel seen Caster?” He asked, panting from having run for so long, his lungs burning at the lack of air. Sly nodded their head.

“They came by earlier on their way. Said they just came to say hello. You sound worried? Is something wrong?”

“Which way did they go?” Asra asked, desperation heavy in his tone, his mouth felt dry, his throat hurt, he needed to know what happened to his partner. Sly pointed in the direction that Caster went.

“That way, are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I gotta go.” Asra said, racing in the direction that Sly guided him in, he tried the spell one more time, feeling the heartbeat grow less faint as he continued on.

He was going in the right direction. After a while, he came to a very familiar field. He tried the spell again, and their heart rate slowed down immensely, but sounded loud in Asra’s ears. He was close. He was so close to finding them. Asra slowed down to a walk and continued into the field, his left hand glowing from the magic he was using to track his partner. As he continued through the tall grass, he saw a familiar sight— Caster, sitting amongst the grass, looking pale, blood dripping down from their nose, they coughed heavily, their breathing labored. Droplets of blood fell from their mouth as they coughed into their arm. Their golden colored eyes flickered to the sight of Asra, and widened sightly

“As-asra..?” They choked out, coughing more.

“Caster, what happened..?” Asra whispered, kneeling down next to his partner and cupping their face in his hands. So many thoughts ran through his head, his violet eyes filled with tears at seeing his partner– the love of his life– the person whom he shared his heart with, literally speaking— in so much pain. “What can I do?” he asked, Caster closed their eyes and let out a shaky sigh.

“There isn’t anything you can do, Asra.. I-I’m so sorry..” Caster mumbled, tears welling up in their own eyes, making the golden color seem much more vibrant against their unusually pale skin.

“Caster, please! I can’t lose you again!” Asra begged “there has to be a way to reverse the effects!” Asra was panicking as he tried to mull over every spell he knew that may help in this situation. He couldn’t risk doing the masquerade ritual again. Caster placed their hands over Asra’s, squeezing them as much as they could in their weak state.

“My love.. It’s alright…” They mumbled, their eyes getting heavier.

“No! It’s not!” Asra broke down, tears freely flowing down his face “it’s not alright, Caster! I can’t lose you again!” It was true, he wouldn’t know how to handle himself if he lost Caster again. Caster stared at Asra for a few moments before pressing their lips to his. They pulled away with a small smile on their face.

“Remember you told me–” they paused to cough once more into their arm, Asra stroked the back of their head and sat next to them to hold them. “You told me that no matter what life we’re in, we’d always find each other..” Asra bit his lip.

“Yeah, i did say that.. But that doesn’t mean–” He was cut off by Caster having another coughing fit, more blood droplets landing on their arm. “Cas, please, let me help, I’m sure I can find a spell or something to help you! You don’t need to die!”

“Asra. It’s fine. I promise.” Caster told him, resting their head against his chest. Asra held his partner close to his chest, letting out silent choked sobs as he held them. The realization of them actually living their last moments once more finally dawning on him. He was going to lose the love of his life once again.

“I love you, Asra…” Caster mumbled against his chest, closing their eyes.

“I love you too, Caster. I always will.”

Asra heard nothing but silence in response, no hum of acknowledgement, nothing.

Caster had finally passed. Asra couldn’t help but break down even harder, holding Caster’s limp body to his chest, not caring that his white shirt was getting stained from the blood that was dripping from their mouth and nose. His sobs shook his body, he let out the most agonizing yell he could muster. Caster was gone. He had lost the love of his life.

–

At the funeral, Asra was silent the entire time. Selene, Sly, and Vivian tried to talk to him, apologize for his loss, but it didn’t seem to do any good. Even Faust and Fauna were silent. Faust had hidden herself in Asra’s shawl. Fauna hadn’t left her spot on Asra’s shoulder either. Countess Nadia was the one to speak first, delivering a speech about how wonderful of a person Caster truly was, in life and in death. Asra gripped the gladiolus flowers in his hand tighter, he planned on putting them with Caster before they were buried. They were their favorite flower– so much so that they had a tattoo of the plant on their back. It seemed only right to have them buried with something they were so fond of.

–

Asra tried to run the shop as usual, but even frequent customers could tell the air was just different about the shop without Caster. Asra seemed less.. Alive almost. Like a part of him had died with Caster.

Caster truly was his other half.

#oc x canon #the arcana apprentice #thearcana #mc the arcana #asra alnazar #asra the magician #julian devorak #portia devorak #portia the arcana #nadia the arcana #nadia satrinava #count lucio #lucio morgasson #lucio the arcana #muriel the arcana #major character death #tw sui implied

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mama-ivy · 1 year

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La Fine Dell’Amore – The End of Love

Inspired by Hozier's Take Me to Church

A/N: Translations vital to the storyline are included in parenthesis. The song that is sung is a lullaby about butterflies. Warnings include witchcraft (both dark and light) and major character death.

11k words

Parte Prima - Strega and Pavel

Strega knew what she was doing back then. At least, she thought she did. She was sure that she wanted to go through with it at the time, but that was three hundred years ago. No matter how one tries, they cannot stay stagnant over the course of three hundred years, and should she be given the chance to do it all again, she would definitely do it differently. Strega's problem was that she was alone. No one had warned her about the loneliness – only the glory of near immortality.

She had spent the last one hundred years searching for any way to reverse the self-inflicted curse that now weighed heavily on her. When she was young and ambitious, it was easy to predict her own future and choose her path based on her bias. She had no need for a family at that time. She had been orphaned and deserted her entire life and so there was no question that she would trade her fertility for immortality. Unfortunately, in her three hundred years, she had gained wisdom, which is entirely different than intelligence. She had learned that every spell has two costs – the initial trade off paid by the caster and the long-term cost for continued use paid by the recipient. She was both. Paying off two debts. Simultaneously.

Strega wasn’t sure which was worse – the initial trade off of infertility or the continued cost of immortality. She could bear each one individually, but together they created an infinite amount of loneliness. This loneliness is what drove her from her comfortable home into the world that despised her in order to find something – anything – that could change what her destiny had become. She roamed from village to village tracking anyone that could possibly help. She followed every lead that was given to her from anyone that would talk to her. She documented meticulously every wizard, healer, witch, and priestess that she spoke to. She experimented extensively with every known ingredient to modify spells, morph them into something new. She failed every time. For one hundred years.

She had certainly not been alone the entire time. She had taken lovers of all races, creeds, sexes, but when one is immortal, one finds it difficult to invest in a relationship that will last, at most, fifty years. For that was just a drop in the bucket compared to the everlasting time that would pass before her death, if that indeed could even happen. Her most recent acquisition was a young boy named Pavel. She referred to him as “boy” (even though she knew his name), but most certainly he was old enough to marry and sire a flock of children. Exactly how old, she did not care. Her only concern was that he was old enough to know the difference between crocodile tears and swamp water, where to find truffles, and how to catch a black widow spider without getting bit. She wasn’t sure where she picked up Pavel. She turned around one day and he was just there. Following behind her. And it dawned on her that he had been there for some time and she just didn’t notice. The only thing wrong with Pavel, it seemed, was that he was entirely too friendly and liked to talk during dinner.

He was one of those creatures that without even trying, people in his near vicinity found themselves drawn to him. He made friends wherever he went, which proved helpful when she needed to confront a villager, but not when she was trying to study her spell book. No matter how many times she blew him off with a short and sharp reply, he always came back with another question or statement that she simply did not find any interest in. As annoying as he was, Pavel was equally useful and so she allowed him to stay.

The most helpful thing about Pavel was his anonymity. He looked exactly like every other young man in every other village. His hair and eyes were boring brown and his build was strong enough to be useful, but not strong enough to burst the seams in his plain linen clothing. She had certainly seen men more handsome, stronger, smoother, more refined, but those men tended to draw attention in ways that she actively wanted to avoid. Pavel was just friendly. Despite the darker tints in both her hair and eyes, she attempted to downplay the natural beauty and mystery that was the unfortunate (in her opinion but not Pavel’s) side effect of her immortality. Beauty and mystery attracted the wrong kind of attention. Pavel, however, attracted the exact right type of attention – the helpful kind.

It was during one of Pavel’s famously annoying dinners of wild rabbit (which he had tracked, caught, fileted, and roasted himself – another trait that she would have to add to his usefulness list IF she was keeping track) that he mentioned he had heard of a warlock that had learned the ability to transform life from one form to another. They were sat across from each other over a small fire on the side of the road between two small villages. She almost didn’t catch the statement as the crickets were exceptionally loud and it was sandwiched between musings of why he thought mushrooms should all be the same color and when they would be able to acquire a mule to carry her books. She had to interrupt him in order to have him repeat himself.

“I said that I am simply tired of carrying your books myself. I understand that they are absolutely necessary, and while I would never want you to go without them, they are extremely heavy.”

“Yes, I know. That is why you carry them and not I. However, that is not what I am referring to, Boy.”

Pavel looked at her intently while slowly chewing his rabbit. “The mushrooms?”

“No. The warlock. You said that he had the ability to do what?”

“Oh!” Pavel paused as if he had completely forgotten that he knew about a warlock. Maybe he had. She wasn’t entirely sure of his intelligence. “The baker’s wife in the last village said she heard a tale about a warlock on the other side of the mountain that could transform life.”

“Is it true?”

“I don’t know. The baker’s wife also told me that she spoke to the squirrel that lives in her tree and he spoke back.” Pavel took another bite of rabbit. “She probably isn’t the most reliable source.”

She sighed. “Regardless, we are crossing the mountain. I must see for myself.”

“I figured as much.” Pavel grinned at her.

“What is it that you find so humorous?”

“Nothing. I can’t smile at my friend?” Pavel went back to his dinner.

She watched him for a second longer. His friend? Is that what she was? Is that why he wouldn’t leave her side? She had always assumed it was because she simply allowed him to stay. “Am I?”

“Are you what?”

“Your friend?”

“Ah.” Pavel looked back up at her with another grin. “Of course, you are. My beautiful friend.”

“Only that?”

Pavel studied her face for a few moments. “Is there something else you’d like to be?”

She watched him intently – searching his eyes for something, anything really, that would give her a clue as to where this uncomfortable conversation was going. “You understand my reasons, don’t you, Boy?”

“I do, Strega.”

“It’s just that – “

“You will live so much longer than I will and you’ve lost so many already. I know.”

They ate in silence for a while. The air felt heavy even though it was a crisp and cool evening. The fire was suddenly too hot despite not having added fuel to it. The crickets were suddenly too loud. The rabbit had lost all taste. She didn’t like his silence. It was strange. Unnerving. Something had to be done.

“Why do you stay by my side?” Well, that was not it, she reprimanded herself. That was not the question that would lighten the mood.

Pavel had stopped eating and was just moving the tiny and bare bones from one side of his tin plate to the other. He did not look up to answer her. “Because I care for you a great deal.”

“I cannot – should not reciprocate that feeling.”

Pavel sighed deeply. It was a sigh that she knew came from suffering. She had heard it often enough in her three hundred years. “I know, Strega.” He set his plate down on the ground in between his feet and the fire. “It is late. You should rest. I will watch.”

She nodded at him and placed her plate on top of his before lightly touching his shoulder as she walked past towards her bedroll. He flinched at her touch as if her fingers were on fire and she withdrew her hand. “Good night.” She whispered before leaving his side.

“Good night, Strega. Sleep well.”

In the days following, during their route towards the mountain, Pavel remained quiet. She didn’t like it. He was always so talkative. Loud, even. She thought his incessant chatter annoyed her, but this was so much worse. She contemplated on casting a happiness charm, but they were temporary and whatever was bothering Pavel would return ten-fold after a few days. She suddenly found herself very concerned for his wellbeing should that happen. How odd, she thought, that she be concerned about poor Pavel. What a wily creature he must be to appear in her thoughts like that. In these quiet days, she found herself thinking of Pavel often. She didn’t want to; she knew where that would lead and she absolutely must not allow herself that small luxury. Far too many times in the years past, she found herself doing just that and those mere moments tortured her for years. It was not a fair trade.

The air was getting colder as they neared the mountain and she had decided that they should stop at the village nestled at the foot of it to rest and restock their supplies before scaling the foreboding land feature. There was no way around it and she wanted to make sure they were prepared. Pavel had agreed to the stop over with a simple nod. She led the way into the unassuming inn with Pavel close behind almost buried in the packs that held their necessities. She was able to charm the innkeeper into giving them two free nights, however, he could only part with one room. Thankfully, there were two beds in it. She had started to argue with the fat man behind the bar, but Pavel simply touched her elbow and mumbled quietly, “One room is fine, Strega. We will each have our own bed. It will be like camping in the woods.”

The room was larger than she thought it would be, and the two of them were very comfortable and warm after Pavel started a fire in the cold stove. They ate their dinner in the room. Still, Pavel remained quiet. She didn’t know what to say to him. In the days since their uncomfortable evening, she attempted several times to engage him in conversation. All she received in return were short answers. Yet again, she gave up and readied herself for bed. She had just settled herself in the warm blankets and snuffed out her candle when he spoke.

“What is your name, Strega?”

“You have just uttered it.” She replied to the darkness.

“What I have uttered is your title. What is your name?”

“It has been too long. I no longer remember.”

There was no reply.

The sun rose late the next morning, as was its custom in the cold months, and both she and Pavel slept until it woke them. After they were dressed and ready, she handed him a coin purse and told him to find the stables. “We will need a strong mule. I cannot ask you to carry everything yourself up the side of a mountain.” Pavel nodded and left the inn without breakfast. She busied herself with shopping for the upcoming trip to the warlock’s hut. Pavel did not return until after dark. She thought about trying to locate him several times, but ultimately decided that he was probably enjoying the time alone. When he did return, he was smiling. His cheeks were flushed, his hair was damp from sweat, and he smelled horrifically.

“Hello, Strega.” He greeted her enthusiastically before dropping into his bed.

“You look as if you have had a very productive day. Where have you been?”

“The stable keeper took your coin purse and ten hours of my hard labor in exchange for three mules.” Pavel grinned widely. “We will not have to walk over the mountain.”

“How very convenient for us.” She walked over to him lying in his bed and immediately regretted it. “You smell of horse dung. You will need a bath before we sleep in the same room tonight.”

He stood up before her and she instantly stepped away. “You don’t enjoy the smell of a hard-working man?” He was teasing her. This side of him was new and she not sure if she was enjoying it.

“The smell of hard work and male musk is one thing, Boy. What you smell of is a different issue entirely.”

Pavel laughed. “Go fetch dinner and I will bathe.”

She nodded and left the room. She made it all the way downstairs to the bar near the entrance before it dawned on her that she was following his order instead of the other way around and that she had already eaten her dinner.

By the time Pavel was bathed and fed, it was much too late for anything else, and the two of them dropped into a dreamless sleep until the sun awoke them yet again the next morning. Pavel left as soon as he was dressed to fetch the mules so that they could pack for their journey. They left the village shortly before noon and headed north towards the mountain. Again, Pavel was quiet, but the quiet was a comfortable one. She was able to concentrate on her surroundings and form a plan for when they arrived at their destination.

“Would you be terribly upset with me if I wanted to part ways after this journey?” Pavel broke the silence with a question that seemed to her to come from nowhere.

“You want to leave?”

“Actually, I’d like to stay. In that village.” Pavel looked over at her on her mule. The two of them were side by side with the pack mule following behind attached to a rope that led to the small saddle that Pavel sat on. “The stablemaster offered me a position with him. I told him I’d like to think about it, but truly I only wanted to ask you first.”

“You enjoyed your day yesterday.” She replied. “That explains why you were flushed with excitement when you returned to the room.”

“It has been a long while since I labored like that, but yes, I enjoyed myself tremendously."

"You are grown. Your decisions are yours to make." They resumed their comfortable silence for a few moments before it was her that decided to break the silence. “How did you know that ‘Strega’ is not my name?”

Pavel looked over at her again with a sly smile. “We come from the same far away land. I have understood everything you have said in our native tongue.”

Her head jerked up in his direction. Her eyes wide. Pavel laughed at her surprise. “And my books?”

“I can read them.”

“Maledire.”

Pavel laughed loudly at her. “Ti sorprende?”

“Yes. It does surprise me. Very much.”

“So what is your name, Strega?”

“I no longer remember.”

“Hmmm.” Pavel did not want to argue, but she was sure that he would bring it up again. She would have to think of a better excuse. Knowing her name meant that he was too close. She didn’t want him that close.

The days grew colder as they neared the mountain and the nights were colder still. They found themselves using more pelts at night to sleep and waking up huddled together, even though there was a definite space between them when they fell asleep. It was getting harder and harder for Pavel to find game to cook for dinner, as well. The rabbits, chipmunks, and birds were all venturing out less and less as the temperatures plummeted. All of these things had been meticulously planned for, however, because she had traversed mountains twice before. She was well aware of what was coming. She knew how colds the nights would be and how much her fingers and toes would ache from the lack of circulation. She had purchased extra dried meats and fruits for when there was none to be found around them and she had brought extra dry kindle for when the snow saturated the trees. The only variable she was unsure of was Pavel. Both of the other treks across mountain peaks were with men that she was sure were familiar with the barrenness of mountain tops and their dangers. She did not know Pavel’s experiences. She had never asked.

The days up the side of the mountain were full of pleasant, albeit impersonal, conversation. She began teaching Pavel the differences in the leaves and berries that were needed for spells. If he knew what he was looking at, then she could send him on gathering expeditions while he hunted for game and she sat by the warm fire studying. He seemed to soak up the information like a sponge and kept it all hidden away in that head of his. It was impressive indeed. He, in exchange, taught her how to properly care for the mules – something she had never bothered to learn.

It was late morning when they began to reach the forest’s edge at the top of the mountain. She knew it was far to early to break for camp, but that if they continued on, they would be far from tree cover at the end of the day and she wished for one more night without the howling winds and biting cold. Pavel was all too willing to break early and set up the camp with a small fire. She spent the time going through her pack while Pavel gathered kindle for the fire. There were a few things she was beginning to run low on and she mentally made a list of plants for him to look out for while he hunted.

“Boy, while you are searching for our dinner, be looking for Yarrow.”

“Yes, Strega. Anything else?”

“I wouldn’t mind some Lady’s Mantle if you happen on some, but I doubt very much you will find any.” She looked up at him. “Do you remember what Lady’s Mantle looks like?”

“Yes, Strega. Small and green with the silver outline.”

“Do be careful. We are heading into a dangerous area.”

“Yes, Strega.” Pavel nodded with a grin and ventured off with a small pack of dried meat and water for his lunch.

He was gone for the better part of the afternoon and only returned as the sun was threatening to disappear behind the tree tops. He seemed pleased with himself, whistling softly and light in his step. She watched him intently. He must have found something either terribly delicious or incredibly useful. Pavel was just outside of her spell range when time seemed to slow to a crawl and every nerve in her body lit on fire. There was something wrong with the air. She could feel the tension. Electricity. The cat pounced from a sturdy branch above his head. How long had it been sitting there? Watching?

“PAVEL!” she cried as loud as she could.

The surprise in his face was obvious, even from where she sat, at the sound of his name from her lips. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at her. The cat, thinking that Pavel would have kept walking, just missed him and landed in the snow at his feet. As quickly as Pavel was able to adjust to the new situation that he found himself in, the cat had already recalculated, spun around, and reared up with claws out to swipe at his prey. She sped to catch up to a suitable range and cast a protective spell on Pavel. She was just too late. The cat was able to get a single slash across Pavel’s chest with enough force to knock him to the ground without a breath in his lungs. Knowing that Pavel was now surrounded by her protection, she quickly chanted another spell to push the cat back into the tree line. He howled at the surprise of it and ran off without any supper.

She knelt down beside Pavel and quietly soothed him while he struggled to regain his breath. “Shallow breaths, Pavel. Be careful.”

“You. Know my. Name.” Pavel managed between gasps.

“Shh. You need to get closer to the fire so I can treat your wound.” She slipped her arm under his neck to help him sit up. “Can you walk?”

Pavel nodded and slowly sat up with her assistance and several loud groans. The short walk to the fire was laborious. Pavel struggled with every step and she watched his life run down the front of his shirt in rivers. The cat had cut long and deep. She didn’t want to imagine the pain poor Pavel was in. His color was fading quickly and as soon as he was close enough, she settled him on the ground and cut away the remaining tatters of his shirt. Her small gasp at the sight of his wound did not escape him.

“You can’t fix it.” It was a statement. He was ready to resign himself to being left behind.

“Don’t be silly, Pavel.” She looked up at the fear in his eyes. “Of course, I can fix it. You will just need more time to heal than I would like.” She covered up his gaping chest with her scarf and turned to pull some herbs out of her bags. “Did you find any Yarrow? I can use it to help with your pain.”

“In my bag.” Pavel’s voice was small and getting smaller with every word. She glanced back at him to make sure he was still awake and then ran to where he had dropped his bag. Two squirrels and Lady’s Mantle were tucked safely inside.

“Pavel! What a genius you are!”

The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly before his eyelids began to flutter shut.

Checking that he was still breathing, she set herself to the task of preparing a salve with the found treasure. It wasn’t a large bunch of leaves, but it was enough to treat Pavel.

She let him rest until the salve and the squirrels were prepared and then woke him. “You need to eat and I need to apply this paste.” He nodded at her without a word, only making a hissing sound when the strange warmth of the salve hit his wound. She carefully wrapped his chest so that it would remain clean and slowly fed him small bites of the hot meat. When she was satisfied that he had eaten enough, she helped him lay back down by the fire and then laid down beside him. Wrapping both herself and all of their pelts around him, she sang softly to him to keep him calm.

Farfallina bella e bianca

Vola vola mai si stanca

Vola qua, vola lá.

He sighed softly and nestled closer to her.

“Reina.” She whispered into his ear. “Mi chiamo Reina.”

“Reina.” Pavel struggled to reply to her. “It’s a beautiful name.”

“Shhh, my dear Pavel. You need your rest if we are to continue.”

“Rest.” Pavel agreed before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Parte Seconda - Pavel and Reina

It was her beauty that first drew his attention. It commanded the room and made everyone in it nervous. Her tresses were the color of the darkest ink and lay in waves down her back and over her red silk cape. Her eyes were the color of the night sky and sparkled like the stars that shone in it. The contrast against her ivory skin was dramatic and breathtaking. Her petite frame held a stack of books (only some of which he recognized) and several leather packs full to the brim and bursting. She reminded him of comfort, warmth, and love.

He watched as she marched up to the bar as if she were the innkeeper and with a wave of her hand was given not only the best room for the night but a hot meal and a cold drink – without coin exchanging hands. He was dumbstruck. He knew for a fact that the innkeeper was the surliest of men and that he would willingly give out anything without coin meant only one thing. Witchcraft. He knew it immediately; his mother practiced when he was young. He watched her intently as she passed by the small table where he sat. She was muttering to herself, “porcile sporco”. Another surprise. He rarely heard his mother’s tongue this far from home. He glanced around him. This rundown little inn was indeed a filthy pigsty. How had he not noticed before? Laughing to himself, he decided that wherever the strega was going, he would follow.

He went back to his room that night and put everything he owned into a small pack, took his bow and arrows and his skinning knife off of the small mantle and sat outside of the inn until she emerged the next morning with all of her books and bags. And then he just followed behind her as she left the village. He didn’t know where she was going, but it didn’t matter. He would make himself useful and follow her anywhere. He had to know everything about her.

It didn’t take long for him to make himself useful. She was struggling to contain all of her belongings in her arms and continuously dropped things as she walked. A quill. A ribbon. A sachet of Rosemary. Her coin purse. He quietly picked them up as she dropped them and continued following her. She broke for camp that evening and he simply laid all of her dropped belongings on the ground beside her stack of books and then began to gather kindling for a fire. “I will be right back with something to eat.” She nodded at him as he spoke without showing any surprise at his presence as if she had known him her entire life. And that is how his new life with Strega began.

He thought about that meeting often, always in wonderment as he would watch her study or work. She fascinated him. She never seemed to mind that he was following along, but never engaged in any meaningful conversation or seemed to remember his name. He quickly got used to being called “Boy”. He had never really gone by his name anyway, his mother calling him “Son” and his brothers calling him “Brat”. He supposed Strega’s name for him wasn’t any different.

He also got used to being the only person to speak for days at a time. He was never a very loud person, preferring to choose his words wisely before speaking, but Strega barely spoke at all. If he didn’t make noise, there would be none made. So he carried on his one-sided conversations often.

He learned quite a bit about Strega in the months following their first meeting – most of it from the notes she had taken and the books she would study. Studying made her very sleepy, and while she slept, he would read. Most of her notes revolved around fertility and he quickly surmised that she was on a quest for a child and often would suggest visiting villages that he knew contained someone who could help her. He also would keep his eyes peeled for ingredients that he knew she would need or was running low on. He was unclear of whether she knew he was refilling her stock until the trip to the warlock’s hut. Then he was definitely sure that she had no idea. He already knew the difference between Mandrake and Mugroot, what Bay smelled like and the shape of Rosemary – his mother had taught him years ago, but the lessons kept her talking and so he let her teach him all over again.

He almost stayed behind on this trip. She was right, he truly enjoyed working for the stablemaster. He knew the mountain they were heading towards, however, and even with her abilities, he was sure she would not be able to make the trip alone. As it turned out, she was the one that saved him.

He knew the cat was in the area. He had seen it further out when he was leaving on his hunt. He was so excited to show Strega the Lady’s Mantle, that he completely let his guard down and was easily surprised by it and how close it had come to the camp. To Strega. And now, here he was, injured and in pain, hallucinating vividly from the burning salve, and sweating like he was on a spit while Strega snored lightly as she slept curled up into his side stroking his arm softly. He stirred slightly to get more comfortable and hopefully dislodge some of the pelts in order to cool down. The movement woke her.

“Pavel, are you alright?”

“Yes, Strega.” He was lying. His legs ached, his back itched, his chest burned, and his lips were parched.

Strega sat up, unintentionally and mercifully lifting the many pelts off of him and allowing the icy air in to cool his fever. “Reina.” She corrected.

He nodded his head and let out a small sigh.

“You look so thirsty. I’m going to get you some snow and food to eat. Don’t move around too much. The salve is not done working.”

He was able to adjust himself slightly so that he was sitting up against a downed tree trunk and watched her as she rekindled the fire and filled the small pot with snow to melt. She glanced over at him every few minutes to make sure he was still alright but continued her chores without stopping.

After a short while, Reina brought him over a tin mug of melted snow and some dried meats. “I’m sorry it’s not hot or fresh, but I do not have the same talent of hunting that you do, Pavel.”

He smiled weakly at her and took the mug of cold water from her outstretched hand. “Never mind that. I don’t think I could eat anything more than this anyway.”

Reina carefully fed him small bites until she was satisfied that he had eaten enough and then tucked him back into the overly warm pelts minus one that she wrapped around herself before settling down near him to read her book of healing spells. “We can’t stay here very long, Reina. The weather is going to get worse very quickly.”

Reina glanced up at him momentarily before nodding her head in agreement. “Yes, I’m looking for a stronger potion that I can make to help you heal faster. I am not risking your health for my silly errand.”

He studied her for a moment before speaking again. “Your desire for a child is not silly.”

“How did you know that is what I am after?”

“I wasn’t sure until you have only just confirmed it, but most of your spell books relate to creating life and you have told me several times how long you have lived. I simply surmised that you gave up your ability to carry children for longevity.”

Reina looked up at him surprised. “How clever you are, Pavel! Why is it that you know so much about me?”

“My mother was a strega before she was taken from me.” He leaned back against the fallen log and looked up past the treetops. “She taught me some useful skills. It’s not that I know about you specifically, but I do know about the many different practices.”

“And what did she practice, Pavel?”

“She was a Hedge Witch. Many of our friends and neighbors depended on her mountain recipes. There was no other healer nearby.”

“And what do I practice?”

He looked over at her sly grin. She was testing him. He smiled back at her and then replied. “Gray magic.”

“You are very clever, indeed.” Reina closed her book in her lap and watched him carefully. He wasn’t used to this much attention from her. Her gazes were making him slightly uncomfortable at the moment, but he was sure he could quickly get used to it. “Why did you let me prattle on about herbs when you already knew what it was that I needed?”

He chuckled lightly before gripping his abdomen with a low groan. “You were speaking in whole sentences for the first time since I met you. It was a lovely change of pace.”

She opened her mouth to argue his point, but closed it again when he raised his eyebrows at her. Instead, she reopened her book and began to study again.

“You might try chapter sixteen. It has more healing potions in it than the others.” He watched her purse her lips at his suggestion and then chuckled again when she began to turn pages with a small sigh.

“Go to sleep, Clever Pavel. You need your rest.”

They did not break down the camp for several more days. He suggested often that they needed to make haste before the winter became its worst, but Reina was adamant that he heal properly before they started on their trek again. The time was spent in pleasant conversation and studying her many heavy tomes. He enjoyed this time with her. It was different and interesting. When he was finally strong enough in Reina’s opinion to continue the journey, they set out shortly after the sun rose. He was aggravated with the time lost, but Reina had insisted that they wait.

Their first night away from the protection of tree cover, they were fortunate enough to find a small cave in the mountain face that had been abandoned by its previous owner. By the contents within, he surmised that the previous owner had been a bear (most likely male from the lack of cub evidence) and had been empty for at least a season so that there was no fear of an angry owner returning to claim his bed. Reina marveled at his tracking abilities, again calling him clever, and set herself about creating a small camp as deep inside the cave as he dared allow her to venture.

“I’m going to see if I can find us some meat to cook.”

Reina’s eyes shot up from her task and looked at him full of dread. “Please, Pavel. Stay with me.”

“Don’t be silly. You are very capable of taking care of yourself while I am gone.”

“No, I –“

“Reina.” She dropped her eyes at the sound of her name. “What is bringing on this sudden burst of emotion? I am not used to it, and I’m not sure I’m enjoying it.”

“I almost lost you. I cannot do this journey by myself.” She paused before lifting her face in defiance. He could tell that she had put on a mask of bravery and arrogance. “I need your help with my things.”

He shook his head. “Neither of us will make the journey without something in our bellies. I promise I will be back before nightfall.” He could feel her eyes boring into his back while he walked out into the howling snow.

He had plenty of time to think on his new situation with Reina while sitting quietly and waiting for the rabbits to come out for their evening meal. Yes, he had followed her from the inn to learn more about this woman that had reminded him so much of his beloved mother, but the more he learned about her, the more he discovered she was far from anything like his mother. She was fiercely independent, intelligent, resourceful, and more beautiful than the world that surrounded her. He found himself falling for her more every day. This new attitude that had taken over her bothered him. She seemed scared and alone. It worried him immensely.

He watched intently the trap he had set up while he pondered and was abruptly jarred from his inner dialogue by a small hare that was coming to investigate his bait of cowberries. He had happened on a small bush not far from the cave that was bravely growing much too late in the year for the berries to be anything close to delicious, but would make the perfect bait for starving creatures. Holding his breath, he watched as the obviously young hare came closer and closer and eventually was caught by the trap that he had laid. It was too small to fill both of their bellies, but it was enough and with a supplement from their packs, they would survive another day. He was satisfied and quickly packed up to return to Reina.

She was stoking the small fire when he entered the cave. She had wisely kept it small so that the cave would not fill with smoke. She looked up at him with a smile. He held up his prize before laying it at her feet in order to pull out his hunting knife, but the action of bending over caused his wound to run over the sharpness of his ribs. He let out a small groan and quickly grasped at his chest. Reina jumped up to assist him, but he held up his hand stopping her. “I’m fine. Please stop fawning over me like a child.”

“Pavel, please let me help you.”

“Reina, I am not a useless and injured animal.” He sat down opposite her and the fire in order to skin the animal for roasting. “I’m not sure where this new Strega has emerged from, but I don’t know that I will be able to get used to someone waiting on me like I am the grand lord of a castle.” She nodded slightly and sat back down without a word. Supper meal was quiet.

After putting out the fire so that it would not attract the wrong sort of company and making sure they were safely tucked away, Pavel motioned for Reina to join him in the pile of pelts. “We will be warmer together.” She did so without a word and allowed him to wrap himself around her. He was almost asleep when she spoke in a whisper so small that he very nearly missed it.

“I can’t allow myself to lose another one. I will not survive it.”

He wasn’t sure she was speaking directly to him, but he answered her just the same. “You will not lose me.”

Reina let out a small sigh into his chest before speaking again, this time louder. “Can I stay with you? In the village?”

“What?”

“The village with the stables that you enjoyed.” She lifted her chin to look at his face. “Can I stay with you?”

“You are grown. Your decisions are yours to make.”

“Buona notte.”

“Good night, my Strega.” He responded softly. “I promise to be here in the morning.”

The sharp pain in his chest is what woke him. Piercing – like a knife through him. When he was able to catch his breath, he realized, Reina was beating on him in the midst of a night terror. He sat up to save his wound from being torn open and shook her in an attempt to wake her. It didn’t work. “Reina! REINA!” Still she cried softly and swung about in horror. She opened her eyes, but the creature that was looking at him through the silky black pools was not his Strega. “Reina? Please wake.”

In a last attempt before doing something drastic, he bent down and kissed her. Maybe the surprise of it would jar her out of her terror. It did. Her entire body stiffened and the crying stopped. He sat back up to find that her eyes were wide in confusion and surprise, but it was, indeed, an awake Reina that looked back at him. And then she slapped him.

He let go of her and grabbed his reddening jaw. She gasped and then reached for him. “Pavel, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t in my right mind.”

“You were right to do that. I was out of place.”

“Why would you wake me like that?”

“You were having a night terror and I was unable to wake you any other way. My other choice was to toss you out into the snow.” He groaned as he laid back down next to her.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“You punched me.”

“Did I hurt you?” Reina sat up and gently laid her hand across the wound in his chest. He hissed from the touch. “Your wound.” She quickly lifted his shirt to inspect the damage she had done and finding nothing of note, carefully placed the linen back in its place. “It needs a bit more salve. The sun is almost up anyway, lay still and I’ll prepare us some breakfast.”

He watched her move about the small cave mixing herbs and warming water. “What were your dreams about?”

“I never remember after waking. I’ve been having them since I lost Luca.”

“Luca?”

“My husband. He was taken by dark forces shortly after we were married.”

“You’ve been having them for a long time?”

“Luca’s death is what caused me to seek out my craft. A very long time ago.”

“Why have I never noticed them before?”

“I’m told I am a quiet dreamer. Most of my companions sleep through my terrors.” She brought him over a small plate of the remainder of the hare from the previous night and a mug of cold water. He lifted the pelts so that she could join him underneath them while the cave warmed up from the relit fire. She sat down beside him and reapplied some warm salve while he ate.

The next week of the journey went smoothly considering they were on the top of a mountain during the coldest time of year. They spent as much of their day as they dared traveling and most of their time huddled together with the mules trying to stay warm. Pavel was mercifully able to find enough food to keep them going and when they finally reentered the tree line on the valley side of the mountain, they spent an extra day simply resting and deciding what to do when they reached their destination. By late afternoon on the ninth day after leaving the cave, they could see the smoke from the crumbling chimney rising above the valley below them.

Parte Terza – Reina, Pavel, and the Warlock

“Calm yourself, Knox. I am aware they have almost arrived.” The old and greying warlock bent down slowly to scratch the familiar on his head. The wolverine stopped his growling at the neighboring forest and instead started whimpering at his master. The warlock finished his task at his small well and carefully trudged with the full bucket back to the small wooden cabin. He paused at the doorstep to allow Knox to enter into the collapsing structure before sighing deeply and following his furry companion inside.

He thought often of repairing the small building that he and Knox called home, but what was the point? The seer’s bones had told him. He would not survive the winter. His many lifetimes were drawing to a merciful end. He wondered if Knox could sense his demise drawing near for he had not left his master’s side save to find small game to sustain them. The old warlock shuffled to the fireplace with his prize and filled the small cauldron hanging inside.

“Tonight we shall dine on dried meats and broth, Knox, but tomorrow our guests will have arrived and we will surely make a fine meal of the gracious gifts from your hunt. I suspect that they will be hungry after traversing the mountain during this time of the year.”

Knox huffed in annoyance and finding no sympathy from his master, settled himself on a small rug in the corner of the single room.

The warlock spent the rest of the evening preparing for his incoming guests. He did not enjoy company, but he also was not sour enough to turn away travelers during the coldest months of the year – especially when said travelers had dared to cross his mountains. He had fully expected multiple guests this season. They had a strange habit of turning up in droves whenever he discovered a new spell. And this last spell was something to behold. He could only assume that the incoming travelers were here to learn it. He contemplated not teaching it to anyone. After all, creating life was a dangerous thing. He ultimately decided, however, to first determine if the student was worthy of such a talent. It seemed a shame that such a difficult spell die with him so soon after its discovery. He had sacrificed so much in its research that it would all be for naught unless the knowledge was passed on.

Bright and early the next morning, the warlock rubbed his aching bones and exited the cabin with the bucket to gather more water. He looked around for Knox as he neared the well. The pesky familiar had cried all night, forcing the warlock to let him out into the valley in the wee hours of the morning with the stern warning to not bother the incoming visitors. Knox approached his master with a small rodent in his mouth.

“Knox, how clever of you. Breakfast will be much appreciated.” The warlock finished his task and scanned the tree line. “I expect we shall see them by mid-day from the looks of the smoke from their fire.” He sighed deeply. “I had really wanted to be left alone this winter, but I suppose that was not in the bones.”

The visitors arrived just as he expected – when the sun was high in the sky. He could tell immediately that only one of them practiced the arts and wondered if the other even knew what he had gotten himself into. “Witch.” He greeted them.

“Warlock.” Came the curt reply.

“Reina, please be polite. We’re trying to ask for his help.” The mortal man chided gently. The warlock grinned slightly. Apparently, he was fully aware of what was happening but was probably blissfully naive of what was to come. “Kind sir, my name is Pavel and this is my friend, Reina.”

“Friend, is it?” the warlock asked.

“Friend is all you need to know.” Reina interrupted. “We have heard you have certain abilities that we would like to utilize.”

“Utilize or learn?”

Reina looked over at Pavel who only shrugged his shoulders. “Learn if you are willing to teach, utilize if you are not.”

“Hmm.” The warlock motioned for them to enter the small cabin. “I am willing to teach those that are smart enough to learn and wise enough to practice. However, I fear I no longer have the time necessary for such an arrangement.”

Reina nodded at the Warlock before entering the small room followed closely by Pavel. The walls were lined with shelves covered in various bottles and jars. All of them contained ingredients and none of them were labeled. Pavel only recognized some of them.

“Explore at your own risk.” Was the only warning the Warlock gave. Pavel wisely chose to forgo the exploring and instead sat on the small bed in the corner.

“My name is Lucius and this is Knox.” The Warlock motioned to the wolverine that guarded his master with bared teeth.

“We met Knox this morning while he was hunting.” Reina knelt down and held out her hand to the familiar. Knox did not advance with a greeting. “He was not the most welcoming.”

“He tends to be more and more protective of me as my life drains.”

“I see.” Reina replied as she stood.

“Witch, your aura is strange. It seems to be fighting with itself. Do you practice Black Magic?”

“Gray. Black Magic is what got me in my mess to begin with. I prefer not to return to the source of my trouble.”

“Ahh. I see.” Lucius replied. “Your aura states otherwise. Your affinity is for the dark arts. You would excel at them.”

Pavel watched the exchange from his perch behind Reina. He saw the muscles in her back and neck tense at the suggestion.

“You have been practicing for a long time, Witch. Your skills are great.” It was not a question.

“I have, and I am tired. This is why we seek your help.”

“You want me to remove your immortality.”

“You are very wise, sir.” Reina replied. “Are you able?”

“I am. It has taken me fifteen lifetimes to learn. I will not be able to teach you, but I can still help if you are willing to pay the price.”

“And that price is?”

“I am in need of someone to care for my belongings after my death – Knox included. I also need someone to send my soul to my ancestors by preforming the death rituals of my people.”

“I have no problem taking control of your affairs, however, I fear for Knox’s opinion of me.”

Knox will warm to you enough after he no longer has a charge to bother himself with. Worry not about that.” Lucius motioned for Pavel to join them. “Come, Pavel – was it? We have much work to do and a strong young man will prove to be very helpful.”

The remainder of the afternoon was spent preparing for the spell and Lucius’ death rituals by Reina studying several tomes that Lucius produced and Pavel chopping wood, gathering water, skinning small game and ultimately taking Knox into the wood for another hunt while Lucius followed around barking orders at everyone. The time seemed to disappear and the sun began setting over the mountaintops far too soon for anyone’s liking.

Because the room was far too small for everyone to relax comfortably, Pavel started a fire just far enough away from the cabin so as not to endanger the rotting wood with embers. He was able to find two tiny rodents and with Knox’s previous hunting game there was enough food for everyone to fill their bellies.

“Fifteen lifetimes is a long time, Lucius. How have you fared without your family?” Pavel asked during the dinner.

“I have always preferred my own company. I was exiled from my home city during a time when practicing the arts was frowned upon. I have never looked back.”

“And what city is that?” Reina asked.

“Rome. The arts were practiced mainly by women and regarded as evil. Witches were often put to death. They were confused by my affinity and merely wanted me out of their sight. I obliged.”

Reina nodded. “Yes, I remember it.”

“Italia?”

“Yes. A long time ago, but yes.”

“And you, young Pavel?” Lucius asked.

“Sí.” Pavel answered. “Not as long ago, of course, but yes. Italia.”

“Interesting. All my life, not another brother have I met, and on this day – two at once.” Lucius sighed and shook his head almost in disappointment. “It surely is a sign.”

“Of good things, I hope?” Pavel smiled.

“Signs are never good in my experience,” Lucius answered. “and hope is for the young. Hold on to it while you are still able.”

The three chatted absently regarding nothing in particular for the remainder of the meal and as they sat watching the fire die down, Lucius spoke again. “What exactly are you attempting to achieve by this visit to my humble valley?”

“I have traded fertility for immortality and I wish to correct that mistake.”

“It is a dangerous path you tread. I fear you shall not be fond of the outcome.”

“It is a risk I am willing to make.”

“If you think that is the risk you are taking, you are mistaken. The risk you should be thinking of lies in the sacrifice you must make. Life is not free and the only price is itself.”

“I don’t understand, Lucius.” Pavel interjected. “How can something cost itself?”

“Many men have claimed it so, but life cannot be created - only taken from another life. Even in the process of childbirth, the child has pieces of both the mother and the father that it has stolen in order for it to be.”

“I am giving my own immortal life so that I may create another in my womb.” Reina said.

“The life that you have lived many times over already?” Lucius shook his head firmly. “Tsk, tsk, Witch. Your life is used up. It will take a much younger life than you or I own.”

Reina stared open-eyed. She knew what life was needed, but she didn’t want to believe it or say it out loud.

“Mine.” The answer from Pavel was small and quiet.

“No! There must be another way. I have only just found him.”

“I was mistaken.” Lucius stood. The dimming firelight made him look taller, scarier to the seated guests. His eyes began to glow and his hunched back straightened. “I thought you wiser than this, Reina, but you are a fool indeed. You will not be welcome to my services after all.”

Lucius turned to leave and Knox rose to follow him. Pavel stood to call out to him. “Wait! Gracious sir!”

Lucius stopped walking towards the cabin but did not turn around. “What if I freely give of my life for her?”

“Pavel, no!” Reina stood and reached for Pavel.

“I am willing and I freely give, Lucius. Please.”

“We begin at dawn.” Lucius resumed his short walk to the door of his home. “There is a small stable around back where you and your mules will be warm. Water my mare while you are in there, and get sleep. You will need it.”

After closing the door behind himself and Knox, Lucius let out a great sigh and relaxed his body causing it to slump to the ground. Knox whimpered and nuzzled his master gently. “I am fine, Knox. Just tired. Very tired.” He knew now how he was to die. He would have just enough energy to perform the spell-casting in the morning. Nothing more. “Veronika, bless me. I will be coming to you on the morrow.”

He stayed on the floor in front of the warm fire for a few moments building the strength to walk to the small bed. There were no more preparations left. All of his ingredients had been gathered and stacked in a basket by the door. He only needed rest. As much as he could get. Maybe he would stay here and sleep next to Knox. He would enjoy that.

He and Knox fell asleep to the sounds of crying, pleading and ultimately yelling coming from the stable.

Knox stirred in his arms inside the small pile they had created from their bodies. It woke the warlock from his sleep. He listened carefully but did not hear any noise from the stable. Maybe they had graciously left in the night. One could hope. He could tell it was just before dawn from the slivers of soft light coming in from the window. “Just in time, Knox. Thank you. What a wonderful rooster you would have made.”

Knox huffed. The warlock slowly eased his aching limbs into action and allowed Knox out of the door and into the biting cold to hunt for breakfast. “Nothing for me, my friend. I shall not be eating on this day.” He saw from his doorstep the young Pavel building the dead fire from the night before.

“I thought you would have left.”

Pavel looked up at him. “You will need a hot fire, yes? As hot as I can get it.”

“You are very smart. I will indeed, thank you.”

“Give me a few moments and I will be in to fetch the ingredients that you collected from your walls yesterday.”

“Where is your friend?”

“She is still in the stable.”

“Sleeping?”

“No sleep was had by any living creature in that building last night, despite your hospitality.”

“My mare is deaf. You still kept her awake?”

Pavel smiled slightly at the statement. “She is very intelligent. We could not tell she had the disability.”

After Pavel had collected the basket of jars, Lucius followed him outside to find Reina warming herself by the fire.

“Where is Knox?” she asked.

“Hunting still, I believe. Better that he is not here. Once I begin, he will keep his distance. He has been singed one too many times, I’m afraid.”

Pavel set the basket down near the fire. “Anything else that you will need?”

“There is a large cauldron in the stable. Use the cart just outside to bring it here.”

After Pavel left, Lucius turned to Reina. “You will need to make an altar. The stones necessary are under that tree over there.” He pointed toward an evergreen with a small pile of granite underneath. “They are not very heavy, but be careful nonetheless.”

By the time the sun began to peek over the mountaintops, they were ready. The cauldron sat atop the fire and the water inside was bubbling. The altar, while slightly wobbly, was sturdy enough for its purpose and was placed only a few feet from the fire. “Are you prepared, Witch?”

“I am.”

“Reina, remember your promise.” Pavel warned.

Reina looked up at him but said nothing.

“Repeat it back to me.” Pavel continued. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I cannot.”

“Witch,” Lucius interrupted the conversation that he feared would quickly turn into something else. “I know not what you are planning, but I can make a wise assumption. I do not recommend your course of action. It will not end well for anyone.”

“Who will stop me, Warlock? You?”

“I will be quite unable to stop anyone from doing anything, but heed well my warning.”

Reina did not reply.

Lucius frowned but motioned for Pavel to climb atop the altar. Pavel did so and laid face up but turned his head toward Reina who ran to be at his side. “Please, Pavel. It’s not too late. I would prefer to find another way.”

“There is none, my love. It must be this way.”

“Lucius,” Reina turned to the warlock who was adding various herbs and liquids to the bubbling water. “Surely there is another life we could take in his stead. A mule, perhaps?”

Lucius stopped working and laughed at Reina’s question. “You are more than a fool, Witch. You are truly a wonderment of idiocy. Human life requires human life and a life so dear as a child requires an equally dear life. It must be him. Say your goodbyes.” He returned to his task without any sign of remorse or empathy for Reina.

Reina sobbed quietly into Pavel’s chest while he held her and whispered into her ear. What he said did not concern Lucius. The warlock was not curious in the least and ignored them while he finished his preparation in the bubbling cauldron.

After chanting low enough to not disturb the mourning witch, the liquid inside the cauldron turned a fiery red color and stopped bubbling despite remaining on the heat. Lucius turned and walked over to the alter before raising his hands in the air. “Almighty Mercury, welcome us to your fellowship. Guide us to our new residence with the Great Dis Pater. We ask blessings from Veronika and Diana that our endeavor may be successful.”

“Who is ‘us’, Lucius?” Pavel asked. “It will not just be me?”

“My boy, I fear I will be following close behind.” Lucius lowered his arms and laid his hands on Pavel’s arm.

“I shall be glad for the good company, my friend.” Pavel smiled weakly. “Together we shall overtake the Underworld.”

Lucius smiled warmly. He was well aware that Pavel did not believe in the Old Gods, but his willingness to acknowledge them based on another’s beliefs only proved that his caring soul would be perfect for the unfortunate sacrifice. He pulled out an ornate dagger from deep within his robes and handed it to Reina. The large wooden hilt was delicately carved with the necessary symbols for blood sacrifices and the curved blade had been carefully shined and dipped in an anesthetic so as to make it slightly less painful for the victim of its point.

Reina took it hesitantly. “I have to do it?”

“I am not the one that wants the life. You vex me greatly, Witch. Enough with your inane questions.” Lucius stepped back from the altar to allow Reina room. “Pierce his heart. It will be quicker.”

Lucius began chanting over the still liquid in the burning hot cauldron. He watched as Reina leaned over to tenderly kiss Pavel.

“Please, Pavel. Reconsider. We can find another way. Senza di te la vita non ha più senso (Without you, life has no meaning).”

“What I give to you will be greater than my life or yours. My sacrifice is nothing compared to a new life.” He carefully wiped her tears with the pad of his thumb. “If I can give you nothing else than this, my life has served its purpose. I want you to do this.”

Reina nodded and then whispered, “I’m sorry, amore mio. I’m sorry.” She raised the dagger high above Pavel’s chest while he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Within seconds, the blade had found its target and Pavel exhaled for the last time.

Lucius continued his chanting while he held a small clay pot underneath the altar to collect the life blood of poor Pavel. Reina watched while tears streamed down her cheeks. Lucius took the vessel of his last ingredient and carefully poured it into the red liquid. Never stopping his chanting, he handed the empty vessel to Reina who dropped the dagger in the dirt and started sobbing. She leaned back over Pavel and wept.

Lucius watched as the red liquid started bubbling again and shifted colors to the most vibrant green. Billowing smoke tinted the same green color formed pillars above the fire and rose to the sky. “Death becomes life. Old become young. You must drink, Reina.”

Reina took the clay vessel and dipped it into the bubbling green liquid. Lucius’ chants became louder, his voice deeper, his black aura became visible around him and he raised his hands and face towards the sky. Louder and louder he became while Reina drank deeply. Suddenly everything stopped. The entire valley was still. Reina felt a strange sensation wash over her. Suddenly she very tired. More tired than she had ever been before. Her arms and legs felt as if they weighed far too much and she looked over at Lucius just in time to see him collapse on the ground near the fire. She took a single step towards him before everything went black.

Parte Quarta – Reina

Reina’s eyes fluttered open. It took far too long for her to realize where she was and remember what had happened. The fire under the cauldron had gone out and Knox had reappeared to search for his master. His crying at the loss of his closest friend was the only sound that filled the valley. Reina looked up at the sky. The sun was high.

“No!” She sat up quickly. “It’s been too long!” She attempted to stand, but every joint ached and her eyelids wanted to shut again. She forced her body into action. “Pavel!” she cried as she rushed to the altar. He lay unmoving and pale – drained of all life. “I should have already cast this.” Reina mumbled to herself. “Veronika be with me, this needs to work.”

She started chanting as she pulled a small vial from the bodice of her dress. Carefully, she poured the liquid into Pavel’s mouth drop by precious drop. It took far too long to get the entire contents into his barely parted lips, but Reina was determined to not lose any of it. She had not made a second vial. This was her only chance. Her spell recited, she waited patiently with baited breath. “Torna da me, Pavel (Come back to me).”

There was no response and Reina began to cry. She bent over and kissed Pavel’s cold lips carefully. When she lifted her face and opened her eyes, Pavel’s jaw stretched and his eyes opened and began to dart back and forth. Reina gasped. “Pavel?” She stepped back away from the altar and Pavel sat up. She watched in amazement for a moment before she realized there was something wrong. He was still far too pale and his eyes were glassed over. He seemed to be looking everywhere and nowhere, but beyond that, he was still not drawing breath. She watched as he climbed down from the altar and fixed his gaze on her.

He stumbled slightly on his first few steps and she ran to help steady him. Her final mistake. Pavel let out a deep growl and began to tear at her dress and hair. In her final moment, Reina realized far too late that this creature before her was not Pavel. It was not controllable. It was not friendly. She had dabbled in an art form in which she had no training and placed far too much trust in an ability that she did not possess. She had played with life and death and she had lost. Everything.

#witch #warlock #magic #love #short story #writeblr #writers of tumblr #fiction #music #hozier

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