Private Tales Good Girls, Bad Blood

[Solitude]

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“No! Come back!” Solitude found herself shouting, reaching out towards her sister and her own fellow shadow as they ran from the celestial light from the stupid light-whore priestess that had been hired to intercept her. Sol herself couldn’t even move, so weaken she was from the priestess last attack of pure, shimmering light. Steam was rising off from her, the light stinging her and searing her skin as if it were actually fire. Most would have found the priestess’ prayers to be that of healing, but to someone like Sol made of only shadows and blood and revenge, every holy word that was spoken was like a hot knife slicing against her exposed skin.

The light and prayers were ten times worse for the shadowkin that resided in her shadow, but she couldn’t help but feel betrayed. She felt like she had been left behind, still unable to fully grasp that her sister was a simple-minded being now and survival was the only thing at the forefront of their mind.

The priestess took a deep breath, readying her gilded staff once more and pointing it at Sol.

“Nowhere left for you to hide. Either you come with me or…” a faint glow began to emit from the staff head and Sol sucked in a breath. There was only one good thing about her facing off just a lone priestess: they weren’t the most athletic human beings on this planet. High power attacks against someone like her, yes, with even their presence causing Sol to shiver and shrink away, but this priestess’ stamina matched that of a man who had just come of age and was still a virgin.

“Or I get the fuck out of here. I’ll take the last one, thanks for the idea.” Sol said, grabbing her sword again. If she died here then find, but she wouldn’t go down without a good fight.

---

“Where are you? Where are you?” Sol whispered, searching for them. Where had her sister gone? Her own shadow? Where were they? Her own shadow felt so empty, so light, so useless. The young assassin continued wandering along the heavy jungle forest, tripping easily over vines and other sorts of undergrowth, her crimson eyes darting around haphazardly. The sun was still up but she knew that if they went somewhere to recover it would be a place where it was dark. It had to be a dark place.

Sol’s form was hunched over, her clothing completely in shreds, her pale skin beneath the leathers showcasing third degree burns that had a slight mucous membrane over them. Her body was trying to heal but she’d need to be reconnected with her shadowkin and sister for that to actually happen. Her blood magic could only do so much when it came to her healing and right now she only had enough strength to numb the pain so she could move.

Deeper and deeper she went, unsure if seconds or minutes or hours were passing by her, every tree, every vine looking completely and utterly the same. Maybe she was hallucinating? Maybe she wasn’t even moving? Maybe… maybe…?

Was that a house? Sol paused in her shaky stumbling, blinking, trying to get the image of the small cottage to stop blurring about and changing it’s shape. She could feel a pull there, a gut feeling telling her to continue there. Perhaps her sister and shadowkin were there, hiding within? She needed to be there then. She began moving forward once again then, but just when she was in reach of the front porch, she collapsed, her legs giving out.

Frustrated, she screamed out, although it was hardly a powerful thing, it was more hoarse and broken than anything else. Solitude attempted to crawl along the ground, perhaps moving herself a foot or so closer to her goal but just as suddenly as she had collapsed, her eyes began to close. And she didn’t even have the strength to open them back up.

 

[Elle Selena]

Some may wonder what a person does when they find out they've only got a certain amount of time to live. Elle, unfortunately, despite being one such person, did not know the answer to that problem. However, she did have yeast and flour, sugar, and a rolling pin, with a roaring oven just ready to accept her creation, at which she was already salivating. She was just about to put them in the oven when, suddenly, she heard screaming outside her front door.

Oh, gods, no, she thought. Not the villagers again!

It wouldn't be the first time some locals went wandering into the woods to seek out the Witch herself. She wondered, though, did they always have to be so loud? The racket was incessant! Day in, day out, Elle just wanted to wallow in pity and make her sweets in peace, as any Witch might want to, so she decided she'd go and open the door because oh-my-gods she couldn't take it anymore and--

She was stunned when she opened the front door and saw, lying at her doorstep, what looked like a badly burned and mutilated carcass. This might bother a normal person, mind, but Elle had unfortunately seen many such... survivors... over the years. Mostly from men taken home from battles, hoping for a miracle. Well, herbs and potions weren't miracles, but they could certainly do a lot for a person in need. This person, though? She--was it a she?--looked too far gone, like someone had dumped a body on her doorstep.

Maybe it's me, just, you know, 16 years from now when the Patron uses me in that whole ritual sacrifice thing. Delightful! she thought. I'll be a filet mignon for the Moon!

Of course, she knew this wasn't the case. After all, seeing your own dead body was preposterous, except under very specific circumstances. The real question though, was why a body was dumped--

She was again interrupted by a new realization: this person was still alive. Somehow. Oh good gods, she thought, looking at the damage. She felt a sudden pity for the person: it was unlikely they would survive. But she wouldn't be a very good Witch if she didn't at least try... and thereby incur a life debt. Oh, she loved life debts. They usually came with flowers and sweets and lots of gold, too. And this person had weapons, from the look of it. That meant they could afford weapons. And if they could afford weapons, they could afford things for Elle, too.

So, she got to work. Elle dragged her in, as always huffing and heaving at having to drag an unconscious body, her upper arm strength about what you'd expect from someone who picks herbs all day and eats sweets in the evening. She laid out a series of long cloths and grabbed a spare pillow, turning the woman around and elevating her head. She tore off her destroyed clothes next, wincing as she saw the extent of the damage on this poor woman's torso. Then, Elle went to her potion cabinet and perused for a moment. Burns and cuts were both deep, difficult wounds to treat. But the cuts could be bandaged, while the burns would need time to heal. Thankfully, though, she had a little aloe vera potion that would do quite nicely. She grabbed the potion from the cupboard, then went back to her newfound patient, uncorking the potion and then kneeling to slowly administrate the potion over the burns. They would start sizzling, the green potion liquid fizzing as it began to work its magic. Within a few minutes, all of the burns had been healed, leaving behind only some minor scarring on the affected tissue.

Elle then went to another cabinet, filing through a few things before finding some large cloth bandages. She began to wrap all of the cuts she could find, and when she was done the woman resembled something of a more ghoulish nature. In fact, she didn't even require new clothing, so deep was the bandaging. But for now, she was breathing and well. The last thing Elle did, now that she was sweaty from the effort, was get a little clean water, and poured it down the stranger's throat. It would, in theory, be a good baseline to keep her from dying. She took the stranger's weapons then, and hid them in her lockbox at the foot of her bed. The night wasn't over yet, although Elle was certain she was going to have to start over again on her sweets...

Things could be worse. But she would at least have some tasty treats before too long. And maybe, just maybe, this stranger would come back from the dead.

 

[Solitude]

As Elle worked, the deep shadows in the corner of her home, far away from the blazing, flickering light of the fire, undulated. They felt the presence of their master, of their home, so close yet so far away. Each wanted to go back to the safety of their master’s shadow, but each agreed that they had to recuperate. The magic from the celestial priestess— or rather, magic that was religious or formed from light of any sort— ate away at their darkness.

Sol may have felt a searing, blazing pain as if she had gotten too close to the sun, but her shadowkin and sister felt like they had been tossed directly into the blazing orb itself, to melt away into nothing. Even know, firelight was deadly to them. If they hadn’t been under the thick canopy of the trees inside the Falwood the sunlight itself would have obliterated them to nothingness.

It was by sheer luck that the shadowy duo had escaped into the witch’s hut to only lurk within and wait.

When Elle’s back was turned to reach for that aloe-potion, the shadowy figures darted out. A small shadow fox and a strange amalgamation of swirls and movement was fast behind it. The firelight casted a long shadow of Sol’s supine body and it only took a second for her shadowkin and sister to be reunited for her. Elle may have noticed a hoarse sigh. Sol was not conscious but deep within her being, her body and soul knew she had been reunited with her other half. Her shadow was considerably darker after that, blacker than black.

The shadowkin got to work, siphoning small sips of shadow magic, feeding Sol’s depleted reservoir. The sister of course got to work in a different way, working the energy pathways, the nerves, mending and healing, breathing life and crying out for abandoning her beloved twin. All of this was silent, with Sol slightly aware of it in her mind’s eye.

And then the aloe potion. It healed Solitude’s physical body faster than the shadowkin and spirit sister could combined. The shadow fox felt a sense of gratitude.

Esmeray felt a seed of jealousy being placed within the dark depths of her heart.

---

Sol opened bleary crimson eyes. She wanted to go back to sleep because the moment her consciousness began coming back to her, she could feel all the pain within every single part of her body. The young assassin gasped, the rush of air coming in through her mouth burned her throat and lungs and she shuddered out a single breath.

It hurt to breathe. Her ribs ached, deep inside her bone marrow. Muscles felt tight, pulled in every sort of direction with a fiery pain lacing over inch of her. She coughed and soon moaned out, her arms and legs shaking, her body seizing up as waves upon waves of white-hot pain coursed over her.

She had to run. The celestial whore was going to—

Safe.

Sol blinked. The only thing she could do that didn’t cause her pain. She was safe? Esmeray couldn’t lie to her, after all, Esmeray’s only goal now that she had been transformed was to protect Sol. But how on earth could Solitude be safe? Slowly, the young woman began to collect her bearings. First, it started with the ceiling above her, the flickering shadows and heat told her there was a fire nearby. She was lying down flat on her back but a pillow had been placed under her head.

Who had dared saved from from some insane light priestess?

Elle Selena

 

[Elle Selena]

Elle was alerted by the sudden gasp of her guest; it was late at night, but Elle had stayed awake, tending to her wounds and checking on her every so often to see how she might turn out. She was stunned to see that even after a single night, the stranger had recovered enough to become conscious again. She hadn't noticed the shadowy beings flitting here and there--she had been too focused on the treatment, and on her sweets, of course.

"Well, well," Elle said, standing up and walking over to the stranger. "Glad to see you're with us again. You looked like a corpse when I found you, but a potion and some bandages and it looks like you're still hanging on. Now, you stay right here--you're going to need some water after what you've been through."

Elle went out the front door, to the small well in her little courtyard entrance to her cottage, and retrieved a pail of fresh water. Then, she returned to the cottage, where she assumed her guest would be far too in pain to be able to move still. She went to her cupboard to retrieve a cup before heading back to her potion cabinet, finding a willow bark potion for the pain and adding a dash of it to a freshly drawn cup of water from the well bucket. She then made her way back to her guest, leaning down with the tincture.

"Now, this isn't going to taste terribly good, but it should help with the pain."

She put her hand behind the pillow to elevate her guest's head a little, placing the cup at her lips and slowly tipping it forward until she could drink the water. She'd slow down to give her time between sips, until finally all the water was gone.

"That should do it. Now, you just go ahead and rest." Elle returned all of the supplies--the cup, the pail from the well, and the potion itself. Then, she pulled up a seat next to her guest, watching over her like a mother might watch over her sickly child.

"I'm Elle, by the way. I'm sure you're charmed to meet your rescuer. I'm the Witch of the Wood, possessed of many great and terrible powers, and luckily enough for you, deary, you stumbled into my cottage and are now under my expert care. I must admit, you're my greatest challenge yet, so you can't die on me or I'll be very disappointed, do you understand?"

She gave her a smile, hoping a little humor might help with the pain. The road to recovery would likely be long, and she was going to need all the encouragement she could get...

 

[Solitude]

Corpse must have been an understatement if Sol felt this bad. Maybe a rotting corpse or perhaps a corpse that had been extremely mutilated to only be patched right back up into some forsaken monster. There was a haziness that cleared when Elle spoke, giving the assassin something to hold onto, something to focus on and try to help orient herself that was just the shadows on the ceiling.

Not yet speaking, Sol opened her mouth when Elle prompted her to do so, her tongue and mouth parched like the Aberassi Savannah. Elle was right, it nasty disgusted, something between a mix like a salty oyster and earthy root and a pungent herb. Yet, Sol was so thirsty that she didn’t dare gag— and of course, she hoped by swallowing every last drop that the pain would go away.

When she was rested back down, she gingerly tilted her head over in Elle’s direction, wincing and sucking in air through her teeth. Her throat felt sore, raw all around as if she had been furiously choked while also having strep throat.

“The priestess.” Sol whispered out, she didn’t dare trying to speak louder, to constrict her throat further so the witch could hear her better. “Blonde… celestial… bimbo…”— just because Sol couldn’t raise her voice didn’t mean she couldn’t insult her transgressor— “I didn’t… k-kill her….” She warned the witch of the wood, hoping that she could see the gravity of the admission in her crimson eyes. But just in case the woman who claimed to be her savior didn’t understand, the Solitude even went out of her way to further explain. “I’m not… safe… or… you….” She finished, and her shadow rippled although it may have just looked as if the fire was having a field day with the shadow puppet show it was creating.

Elle Selena

 

[Elle Selena]

Elle furrowed her brows as her guest struggled to speak. She was lucky to even be awake at this point, yet it seemed something else entirely was troubling her.

"Whatever you're muttering about, it can wait," Elle said. "You're simply not well enough to be doing anything. Even worry."

Of course, if Elle had heard correctly, there definitely would be some concern for both her and the stranger. Something about a priestess, someone not killing someone, and most worryingly, that they currently weren't safe. Elle doubted this, however, as her cottage wasn't exactly easy to find. Villagers usually only found it by word of mouth or complete accident. The Falwood was great for camouflage that way. And besides, what kind of evil killed the healers of the world, even if they were mischievous witches like Elle?

She sighed. "Well, if you're insistent, maybe you could at least tell me your name. But no getting up until you're ready, okay? I'm a lot stronger than I look and I'll make sure you stay there!"

It could all be incoherent rambling, of course. But Elle had taken this person's weapons and knew that they likely weren't for show. Without the burns and lacerations it seemed she had been wearing armor, too. In fact, she was still transfixed on the heavy amount of bandaging work she'd done, that she still didn't notice the strange shapes in the shadows around her which might have informed her of something going on beyond the surface.

"If you can, maybe I can even make you something to eat. I've got some fresh bread still, in fact. And I'm a wonderful baker. But only if you can keep some water down and speak in complete sentences. Oh, and only if you can say 'please'."

Elle gave her one of her trademark impish smiles. Even with a patient this badly injured, she couldn't help but tease and prod. And now, she needed to get some answers.

 

[Solitude]

Sol’s crimson eyes narrowed at how this person, despite helping them out, seemed to disregard her warning so easily. She wasn’t sure if it because what she was saying wasn’t clear but really she felt she had done enough to explain. She had said what her attacker looked like, had mentioned they weren’t safe… what else did this young woman want? Her name? What good would giving her name do?

A shuddering breath managed to leak out from Sol’s parched mouth. She wanted more water, despite drinking the liquid that Elle had given her moments ago, Solitude already felt that dryness creeping back into her mouth and throat. It was a side effect of the healing. Sol was rather good without food, but water was an entirely different need.

“Sol.” The assassin whispered out. It was far more simple to say that compared to Solitude, it wasn’t really a name people were used to hearing. And while Sol was most definitely still very unique in it’s own regard, most accepted it as a name, unusual and rare but still considered to be a name. Another breath in, moments later she would exhale. She stayed quiet, debating on how she should continue.

She couldn’t get up, couldn’t move even if she could sit up on her own.

For now, Solitude needed to do everything she could to heal and rest up and then she would leave before this stranger got hurt. That celestial priestess must still be after her, she was sure of it. Perhaps she was injured too and recovering, but who would heal faster? Probably that blonde bimbo. Sol was sure of it. Even with the help of this witch, that priestess would be in decent shape before Sol was.

“I don’t… eat… much.” Sol murmured. “But. I need… a lot… of water.” There was a pause as Sol took another breath, holding it within her chest before releasing it. Kress it hurt to breathe. How much longer would she need until she could breathe without wincing? “Please.” She finished. It never hurt to be polite, even if every word she said was like a searing brand on the inside of her lung and made her a bit woozy in the head.

Elle Selena

 

[Elle Selena]

Calling the person before her 'alive' seemed a bit of a stretch at this point, but this 'Sol' was right about one thing: she did desperately need more water. Elle had watched with a morbid expression as what seemed like a dehydrated corpse seemed to cough back to life. Not that Elle felt bad for her teasing, of course--in that regard she was incorrigible, no doubt--but Sol's condition was still one to be taken deadly seriously.

"Well, you're at least a polite corpse," Elle said, giggling. She grabbed a cup, pouring some of the water from earlier into it, then kneeled next to Sol. "I'm going to give you some water now, okay? Hold still, please."

Elle then put her hand behind Sol's head, helping to lift it as she gently put the cup to her lips, allowing her to drink in small sips. She would do this for several minutes, allowing Sol to drink at her own pace until finally she finished. Elle then placed the cup on the table, but remained at Sol's side, on her knees. Another doctor's face might have been more concerned, but Elle's expression was focused, as she studied Sol's features, then checked for any weakness in the bandages.

"I think a bath might do you some good too," Elle said. "You smell positively wretched! I suppose anyone might after being torched alive, as it seems you were. But for now, you need to rest. In a few hours, I'll remove the bandages and we'll see what can be done for you. I have a potent aloe potion I can use to help heal your wounds, but it takes time to work on burns as bad as yours, and multiple doses. I may even have to get more, in fact. Since you're in my care, though... How did you end up here?"

Elle had given her enough water, but she wondered if Sol could really speak yet. Her curiosity outweighed her caution, however, even though she was ready to pour more water at a moment's notice. After all, she had her witch's pride to consider, and Sol would be her greatest success story yet if she could pull through.

 

[Solitude]

If Sol could scowl without causing herself severe pain, she would have at the fact that Elle had giggled at her. But right now she couldn’t even try to narrow her eyes. But that may have been for the best, after all, right now, Sol really needed that water and truly, she was grateful that Elle was willing to get it for her and help her drink. The water was cool and somewhat uncomfortable at first as it slid down from her parched lips to her scorched throat. Soon, the coolness of it all was a welcomed thing and Sol drank like a camel that had been lost in the dessert for days at a pristine oasis.

“Bath?” Sol croaked. A flash of fear in her crimson eyes. She couldn’t imagine going into the water when her skin was practically still regenerating. She couldn’t imagine water seeping into places where it shouldn’t be. “Of course I stink.” She did her best to keep her tone neutral, resisting the urge to hiss at the witch. Really, under normal circumstances, Sol would have laughed and said something witty in return. But now? As a half-baked corpse? All she could muster was to hold her pain and irritation at bay.

“I walked here. How did you think I got her? By teleporting?” A wheeze and a snort, causing every limb and muscle to seize up in pain as the fiery pain from her chest erupted all over her torso. Alright. Sarcasm wasn’t the best way to go right now. She’d keep that in mind for next time she wanted to throw some sass at her rescuer.

“I already told you… a celestial priestess. She kicked my ass.” The shadows rippled again, partially out of anger and rage, but also due to trepidation and fear. That priestess. Yes, she was most definitely out there. Were their others? Sol hadn’t even considered that. Maybe she had less time than she originally thought?

Elle Selena

 

[Elle Selena]

Anyone else might have been offended by Sol's more aggressive remarks, but Elle had a very bad habit of laughing when she should be afraid. In particular, people acting tough or trying to be intimidating always greatly amused her, even though she was hardly in a position to be so smug about everything. Years of being mentally a cut above the local peoples gave her a feeling of superiority over most she met, including patients like Sol who she more than likely should have been very, very afraid of.

"Oh really, a celestial priestess? And whatever were you doing fighting one of those? Aren't they supposed to be all," and Elle raised her hands as if she were an evangelist, speaking with a mocking voice, "Holy agents of good and justice in the world?" Elle then laughed, and fairly hard, too. "Well, I suppose you got your answer to that question. Celestial indeed! I wonder what a demonic priestess would do if that's how the celestial ones are acting."

Still, Sol had some nerve being so sarcastic, and no, Elle did not see the irony in her being offended by this.

"My cottage here isn't exactly easy to find, and besides, I was asking what series of events got you here, not your mode of transportation you mushroom-brained ingrate," she huffed. Truthfully, though, she was thankful for the company--it seemed this Sol might have been quite the live one when she got to feeling better again. And Elle would absolutely make sure that she did--if she could talk, then she would walk again. Still... getting this one to bathe wasn't going to be easy. And that was after the second round of aloe potion would do its work, sealing the worst of the wounds and making the pain easier to bear...

"In a little while, I'm going to use another potion on you to heal your burns. Then, a bath would help with any potential infection and help your skin recover. Don't worry--baths with witches are a fun experience," she said, smirking playfully. It really couldn't be helped; this woman might kill her in a few hours, and yet Elle was having far, far too much fun...

 

[Solitude]

The nerve of this woman! Didn’t she understand that celestial priestess were precisely that? And because they were so gung-ho serving the celestial faith that they were keen on attacking whoever they deemed as filth. Sol kept back her retort, because it seemed the witch hadn’t realized what it meant that Solitude had a celestial bimbo after her. If Elle had realized such a thing, what would she think? That Sol was the bad guy, the one that she should fear?

Under different circumstances, perhaps Elle would fear her.

“Those that serve the shadows… or the night… ain’t half bad….” Sol said wryly. It was a statement that was a major clue inside to what exactly Sol was, but of course, it didn’t mean Elle could pick up on something said so sarcastically and so nuanced. There was a slight pause however, and Sol sighed. “Actually, they can be a major pain in the ass, too.” She said, specifically thinking of one particular lady that often gave Sol a hard time.

“Give me the potion now.” Sol said, her tone serious. “I can handle it.” It was true. Elle’s potions were doing a tremendous job in aiding Sol with healing her body, it was enough to ease her back into her own healing process and while Sol’s healing was better than humans, it was nothing compared to what the fae could do. She took a deep breath. Another potion meant that she could possibly begin moving again. Whatever the witch thought about her home being hard to find, it would be nothing for the priestess to follow a trail full of corruption. And the longer Sol stayed in one place than the easier it would be to follow that corruption.

“‘Sides, I don’t want some stranger feeling me up.” Sol wheezed, seizing up again, although this time, it didn’t hurt as much. The pain within her body was slowly beginning to dull, and despite the stress of being attacked again by that priestess looming right around the corner, the red-eyed woman was beginning to feel tired again.

Elle Selena

 

[Elle Selena]

Her determination and grit were admirable, although it seemed Elle might need to watch herself around this one. She eyed her, the half-charred corpse of a woman, for a moment before turning to go back to her potion cabinet to retrieve another aloe potion.

"We make quite a pair, then," she said. "For I am bound to the Moon. A real witchy burden if ever there was one, I suppose." Elle approached Sol again, kneeling next to the now-pitiful excuse for what Elle assumed was some kind of warrior or fighter of some description. "Luckily for you, I don't make a habit of feeling up corpses, or most living things for that matter, though I suppose my being a witch might have suggested otherwise."

Elle nodded. "This is going to sting. Be thankful you were unconscious when I administered it the first time. It'll feel better after a few minutes."

She removed the bandages on Sol's body gingerly, deliberately taking each one off to reveal the charred skin beneath. It looked better than before, at least, but she had clearly still been devastated by whatever assault she'd endured. With a pull and a pop, Elle uncorked the potion, then slowly began to administer it over the burns, wary of any reaction that Sol might have to it, violent or otherwise. Once she was done, she quickly took the vial away, placing it on the table next to her and then grabbing new cloth bandages, tying them around her again.

"It's going to take a few days at least, before you're better," Elle added. "Maybe longer. Would you like something to eat? I make a fine soup if I do say so myself."

Solitude

 

[Solitude]

Bound to the moon? Sol rolled her eyes. Yeah right. How did one get bound to the moon? Did this witch mean to say that her powers grew and waned with the moon cycles? Maybe she just had shitty cosmic magic. Or were there such a thing as moon witches? Sol did debate on that a bit. She had met quite a few witches, and she did tend to enjoy them more than those who focused on more radiant types of worship. Celestialism was the worse offender, but she had come in reach to those who worshipped Mallia and she didn’t have fun with them either.

So if Elle worshipped the moon, and had waning magic…? Her face scrunched up a bit as Elle began to unwrap her bandages, discomfort coursing through her. Solitude didn’t like the sound of it nor did she enjoy the feeling. She was silent, gritting her teeth, and strangely enough, focusing hard on Elle’s voice. It was the only thing that could really distract, especially from the pain of the potion being gingerly poured over her burnt body. Keeping her lips pressed tightly together, Sol did nothing more than grunting and breathing in deeply, fidgeting here and there but for the most part she did her best to not show weakness.

When Elle had finished, Solitude took a deep breath. She hadn’t realized it but she had bit her cracked lower lip and it was bleeding. Oh well, the taste of blood wasn’t new to someone like Sol. She was about to close her eyes, perhaps sleep a bit again, until Elle uttered the worst words the young assassin could ever imagine hearing.

“I don’t have days!” Sol said, exasperated. “Celestialism grants them increased healing powress! I have a day or two at best.” She said, rather frantically despite her usual cool demeanor. “She’ll find me and she’ll kill me and you. And your cosmic moon powers ain’t shit against her! She probably has a paladin or two with her. Maybe a whole little militia after our last encounter. Fuck, I’m fucked. Totally and completely fucked.” Sol groaned loudly in frustration but was then quiet. Took a deep breath. And then sighed deeply.

“I would like some soup though. At least just some broth for now.” She said much softer, as if she didn’t have a momentary breakdown.

Elle Selena

 

[Elle Selena]

Though Solitude's tone was sincere, and though Elle was taking her seriously, she couldn't help but giggle at the outburst. "My, my, that does sound serious," she said, going to her stove and lighting it to help prepare a soup. "Celestial or not, they won't find us here. Something..." she said, stumbling over her words. Explaining her patron to outsiders was never easy. "Something quite powerful needs me alive. If the priestess even somehow found this place... and came knocking... well, it wouldn't end well for them. You can trust me on that. 'Tis a wretched curse, to be gifted such power but only when it suits its needs..."

She turned and laughed. It was her defense against the horrible truth about the cycle of her life and eventual death. "You can take as much time as you need here. But if your body recovers sooner, I won't keep you here. I'm no doctor. Just a friendly witch who has her reputation to consider, you see."

She then turned to the task of making the soup, boiling water as necessary. She hummed a small tune to herself as she did so, and in time, a soup with some carrots, potatoes, and broccoli would be ready. Then came a rather uncomfortable question: How was she going to feed Sol? She ladled a bit of the soup into a bowl, then went back and kneeled by Sol's side again.

"Deary me, I think I'm going to have to spoonfeed you the whole lot of this," Elle said, maintaining her usual charm despite the humiliation of having to feed another grown adult. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone though."

 

[Solitude]

Curse this witch! Sol thought rather vehemently. Everything she said, Elle seemed to flip it around! And while in different circumstances Solitude would have found it funny or even endearing, at this point it was making her blood pressure sky rocket to the point she was surprised she was not going in cardiac arrest. It didn’t help that there was this underlying sense of pain no matter what potion or elixir she drank, there was only so much of a numbing effect that could take place because certain movements were just too raw.

So yes, Solitude was grumpy. She had no issues with being grumpy. And she would complain as much as she liked because here she was looking like a skinned corpse from some barbarian raid. Brewing with all the angst and rage a young adult could possess, she did hide it well. At this moment she was done with trying to explain why the situation was serious. Especially when everything she said seemed to be taken lightly as if she were merely telling the witch it was going to rain.

“Tell whoever you want,” Sol said in a disagreeable tone, mostly just to try and spite Elle and see if a different reaction could be provoked. “Not like they’re gonna recognize me. I usually am wearing a mask.” There was a pause. “Besides, if you were to describe me to them I think they’d assume you were talking about a lich and not an assassin of the Caliginous Church.”

Cover blown. However, Sol was no fae. She figured Elle was some backwoods witch, probably never came into contact with anything special or anyone extraordinary. Besides, not many common folk even knew of assassins of a C.C. Anyhow— a friendly nickname dubbed by many initiates and fledgling assassins.

Sol opened her mouth, hardly feeling any sort of shame for being spoon fed. She had been in much more embarrassing situations before this. If anything, this was just vulnerable, which did cause a bit of shame, but nothing that was actually embarrassing or mind-breaking to her.

Elle Selena

 

[Elle Selena]

Though the words might have meant much to a more worldly person, Elle was rather rustic in this regard, and knew nothing of the Caliginous Church. She understood what an assassin was, of course, but she'd met all manner of killers as a healer, mostly soldiers who had run into a string of exceptionally bad luck. Or, perhaps, that was the predicted outcome for those who take up the sword and lack the sufficient skill. Either way, Elle began to sense the real urgency of this woman's plight, and her thoughts began to turn to a more appropriately timely solution.

There was, in her potion cabinet, a small purple vial that hadn't been opened in what must have been a decade. In truth, it was meant for her own use, but many years had passed since Elle became aware of that knowledge, and she had grown less reverent of destiny and intended use with time. The potion would heal wounds, among other things, but more importantly, it had been made with a lock of her own hair by her mother, who described it only as "a concoction intrinsically linked to your very soul, my dear." Cryptic and largely useless information, Elle thought, as did most of her mother's teaching seem to her now. Yet the healing properties would be undeniably useful in this scenario, saving this killer on-the-run from an untimely demise. And what little could Elle offer to this world, she wondered, if not the compassion she herself would never receive?

"Mm... well, it seems like your circumstances are rather dire," she said, feeding Sol a spoonful of soup. "There is a potion... another one, I mean. It would accelerate your healing, but--and, would you expect anything less from a witch?--there may be unfortunate side effects from taking it..."

Elle donned a somewhat sinister, conspiratorial smile. "I have the ingredients... all I would require is a single lock of your hair. And... there is one more price, as well." She took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully, as she asked, "You... must take me with you, wherever you go, for however long I wish. I tire of life in this lonely cottage, and having an assassin as a bodyguard sounds absolutely delightful."

Elle then set the soup down on the small table near them, then retrieved the purple potion from the cabinet, displaying it to the wounded killer on her floor. "So... what do you say?"

 

[Solitude]

Sol had always believed that monsters looked like monsters. Her sister had turned into one. She had her fellow shadowkin dwelling in her shadow and knew what fearsome thing that could turn into. And monsters were people, too. Ghastly thin women with hooked noses and high eyebrows or bald headed men. Evil. Pure evil. Solitude had spent plenty of time dealing with monsters like those.

But staring down at her right now was a smiling witch. In every sense of the term, Elle was a witch. Sol wondered when she would start cackling and take a broom to fly off into the night as warts grew on her face and her skin turned green. Never before had Sol meant a person who flustered her so much, who made her feel so… angry.

She thought the anger was from her being vulnerable, and perhaps that was true. In this state she was utterly vulnerable. And now apparently at the mercy of a witch, or, and somehow this was still considered worse, a celestial priestess.

Stuck between a rock and hard place, Sol did the only thing she could possibly do in a situation such as this.
She laughed. Hoarse and painful, but a incredulous laugh nonetheless.

“Yeah, cause fuck me, right?” Solitude said finally once her wheezes of sarcastic huffing and puffing diaphragm wore off. “You got a deathwish.” She added, rolling her crimson eyes far away from the blue gaze of her captor. It was most definitely a hostage situation in the assassin’s eyes. First she was being fed soup, now she had the unfortunate news that her only option was to be blasted to ash from the celestial priestess or to… what, go on wholesome adventures with some lonesome witch? Yeah, right.

Nothing in Solitude’s life had ever been wholesome. Or easy. But sometimes one had to make those tough decisions.

“How exactly do you plan on binding this… contract? I can take the full heal and disappear into the shadows. What’s going to be your collateral?” There was a heavy pause, and Solitude brought her eyes back to look straight into Elle’s, a unspoken intensity like electricity inside them. “Or how can you guarantee that I won’t just kill you? That my Church won’t dispose of you?” Not like Sol had any plan in letting the church find out. Heck, if they did, the archbishop would dispose of Sol themself!

Elle Selena

 

[Elle Selena]

You got a deathwish.

Sol was right for more than a few reasons, though Elle felt little need to reveal that to her just yet; after all, most people tended to stay away when they realized she was the impending trigger for a natural disaster that would shake the world to its very core. But Elle's story wasn't over yet; she still had a few years remaining before then, and she could help Sol. After all, how bad could the side effects of the potion really be?

Still, a little information couldn't hurt to convince the assassin not to die, and let Elle tag along for an adventure or two.

"Well... I made the potion ten years ago. I was but a girl at the time, when my mother was still here..." she said, her normally cheery, sarcastic voice growing ominous and mysterious. "The potion was made with my own hair... You say you don't have time to heal, but I think this would heal you; to complete the mixture, I would mix your hair with the existing concoction... it would heal you, as the potion would heal me... but it would likely bind our souls, though for how long, I cannot say. If you killed me, then who knows what would happen to you as well? It'd be in your best interest to take me along--for your own safety, if not mine... the one who is healing you in the first place, by the way..."

She eyed Sol's hair, mostly charred, but with more than a few locks intact that could be used for the mixture.

"You could really be a little more grateful that I've saved your life, you know, especially since it seems I'm going to help you cheat death. It's dangerous to disrespect a witch, especially when she gives such a generous offer."

Her eyes returned to Sol's now.

"So what do you think, assassin? How badly do you want to live?"

Solitude

 

[Solitude]

Solitude was quiet. Quiet and still. She took in Elle’s words quite seriously. She had to, after all, it wasn’t something just for her to decide. Was her soul even something Elle could bind to? Because her soul upon birth had been fractured, incomplete.

Her twin’s soul was the same way, missing something but functioning.

And then they did the ritual and Sol became complete. Her sister now bound to her shadow for as long as she lived. They were closer now than they had ever been, even their time together in the womb was nothing compared to this. Because Sol felt everything at this moment. Her sister’s rage and anxiety, the prickling needles of fear and that indignant bloom of anger scorching her gut.

No, her soul wasn’t something she could give by herself. It was no longer her choice.

But even if her sister complied, what would happen? Would Elle also join her shadow? Would more be ravenous over her? It was already difficult enough, she had stopped attending communions because of all the hungry looks directed at her. And the issue was, she knew she wasn’t strong enough to protect herself from those that wish to feast upon her flesh and bone, to absorb every bit of her.

She took a deep breath. She weighed her options.

Sol would be lying if she didn’t admit she wanted that potion. But what was worse at this point? Death or possibly being bound to a sarcastic witch for the rest of her life if things went well. She couldn’t imagine what would happen if Elle somehow combined with her shadowkin and sister. What would happen to her.

But. But wait. What if the potion didn’t work? It was ten years old after all. It could have gone stale. Maybe if she drank the potion it would do the opposite of heal her and instead kill her. What if it was a bottle of divine spells and radiant herbs and—

“Fuck. Do it. Do it right now before I change my mind.” Sol said firmly, her shadow quivering. Solitude winced and bit her lower lip, but said nothing else.

Elle Selena

 

[Elle Selena]

For a moment, Elle looked into Sol's eyes as the burn victim looked to her, her expression filled with a combination of fear, desperation, and what Elle suspected was rage. Almost like a cornered dog, baring its teeth and barking, doing all it could to stave away the great terror which pursued it, and Elle had made her agree to a deal while in such a state. Before her eyes, Elle saw an image of flame, the fire crackling and scorching the skin, Sol's only expression one of stoicism, and anger. But Elle could feel bad about it later; without Sol, she was stuck here, or risked bringing some unknowable ruin to the world by her death. Perhaps, with Sol, that ruin might become more knowable. And if the two were connected, then perhaps if Elle died, then Sol would be the curse's new bearer... or Elle could circumvent it altogether. Not that she could chance it, of course, despite how easy it would be to poison the girl.

The moment returned to her, as Elle nodded once sharply in return. "Good; it would be rude to refuse such a generous offer from a witch," she said. Then she stood up, going to her cabinet to retrieve a small knife, returning to Sol.

"I need your hair," she said, leaning down again and gently taking one of her singed hairs in her hand, pulling it taut before gingerly slicing it off with the knife. Elle went to the cabinet, retrieving the potion--yes, that purple one--which had accumulated some dust from sitting untouched for many years. She took the flask to the table, popped the cork, then ever-so-gently lowered the hair into the mixture, watching with some hesitation as it began to hiss, sizzle, and bubble, a clear sign that it was working; in a moment, the hair was dissolved into the mixture, which began to glow slightly in a darker hue of purple than before.

Elle returned to Sol's side, kneeling down with the flask in hand. Her expression was one of trepidation, fearing the imminent magic that was about to transpire.

"Ready?" Elle asked.

Solitude

 

[Solitude]

The assassin, upon uttering her last words, was drowning in a stormy sea of curses and fears and negativity. While Elle could hear nothing as she went to the cabinet to retrieve her knife, Sol was waging a war against her sister. Her screeching sister who believed in nothing more that this would be a stupid deathwish. Whether because the potion would actually kill Sol or because there was no way the church would be fine with Elle tagging along.

And look! Here comes the stranger witch with a knife!

Sol let out a exasperated sigh as Elle cut off that thin, frayed lock of darker than black hair. Her sister was quiet for a moment, perhaps truly upset that Elle hadn’t tried to do anything seedy with that knife. Sol could feel it, that slight edge of disappointment when things weren’t going someone’s way. And despite this inward arguing, the fox shadowkin was silent, saying nothing at all, choosing no side.

Figures, Sol thought almost bitterly about the shadow-fox, seeing a flick of it’s tail to indicate that it was indeed listening to the dissonance of thoughts raging against each other.

Why would she even help?

That… that was a good question. Sure, Elle had given her a answer, but it was hardly a answer that made sense. Or, complete sense. One didn’t become an assassin without honing a sixth sense to know when something was amiss. One’s intuition was actually quite valuable, even if some liked to call it paranoia. So Solitude knew that Elle was hiding something, what exactly, she couldn’t say. But there was more to this, an outlier that Sol would have no idea of until the witch either shared it or it would come into play. Regardless…

I’ve seen predators save their prey. Leopards saving baby impalas from stampedes or tigers protecting wild dogs from others. Sol answered. Don’t act like it’s so strange to get a bit of good luck after a particularly nasty draw.

And then there was silence. Sol realized almost too late that Elle was beside her again and had asked her a pivotal question. She could still say no. Sure the witch would be upset but, “no” was still a option, wasn’t it?

“Yeah. I’m ready.” And without Sol’s permission, against Sol’s inward curse, her shadow began inking its way over to Elle, strapping her feet to the floor. Sol fought against this, knowing full well what her sister was trying to do. “Shit— give it to me, now!” The assassin said as she struggled against her growing shadow that had merged with Elle’s and all the others in the room, slowly beginning to cut off the light of the fire as pure blackness began crawling up the witch’s legs and waist.

Elle Selena

 

[Elle Selena]

Taking in strangers always carried its own set of risks, but every time something had happened before, Elle had been protected by the lunar patron, usually with shielding magics or something else that would keep her safe in the face of danger, magic far beyond her own ability to use and that would usually leave her body exhausted after acting as a conduit for the spells. But it was always defensive, always a means of protection--the patron seemed interested only in preserving her body and soul, but it seemed to care little what Elle did aside. So if she wasn't in danger, then what would happen now couldn't be stopped. At least, that was the theory--she still had very little idea who the lunar patron was, nor did she have even a real inkling of how its powers worked.

She was focused too intensely on the moment to notice the creeping shadows, and the dimming of the light in the room seemed to only accentuate the ritual in her mind, that she was entering a dark pact with a complete stranger, binding their souls together so that she might live, not because Elle particularly wanted Sol to live, but rather because Elle was very eager to die, or at least cared very little if she did.

So she nodded, pouring the potion down Sol's mouth, only taking a moment given the small size of the flask. Immediately, Elle cried out as a purple stream of energy shot out from Elle's chest, striking Sol's heart. Elle began reciting an incantation:

"Mended wounds, pain be gone
Bind our souls, act as one
Til mind be pure, forever linked
Til purpose clear, then freedom drink"

The magic worked quickly, as Sol's wounds began to miraculously heal, both treating the wounds and restoring her skin, her hair, and other features back to their original state. By the end, Sol would look as if she had never been injured, and she would feel a sudden life force again--her hands would feel their grip, her muscles responding with their familiar alacrity.

By comparison, Elle felt drained, as she suspected the spell was balancing their respective energies between them. If one were wounded, so too would be the other; they gave each other life, now, and the effort of it left Elle panting, and coated in a sudden sweat. But the ritual had seemingly been successful, and time would only tell if Sol would hold up her end of the bargain...

After all, if one of them perished, so too would the other...

Solitude

 

[Solitude]

The skeptic in Sol fully believed that this old potion was never going to work. That Elle would be swallowed up by her enraged sister, that this witch of the wood who seemed to just readily accept and question nothing would soon be dead. They were similar, though Solitude lacked the mental maturity and inwardness to realize how similar they were. Both were destined to die, both were destined to be unsung heroes, both would forever belong to the night and to never be awarded.

And the thing that truly united them, the one fact that actually made them the same? Neither of them had a choice or say in any of it. Their fate or destiny, whichever they believed in, was never there to begin with despite them being both born into a world that promised choices.

Of course, Solitude didn’t consider any of this, not even really bothering listening to Elle’s cantation despite it ringing in between her ears, echoing around in her convoluted mind. Her focus, so intent on not letting her sister kill Elle, that it took time for her to realize that she was healing. Faster than ever before, faster than the assassin deemed possible.

She took a deep breath, whether from shock or just because she needed one badly, and her chest no longer ached. Her lungs were no longer screaming when they expanded, no longer shuddered as they deflated. The air was clean and crisp, and perhaps because she had struggled to breathe, she realized just how neat airways could be. How much oxygen they could actually support when they weren’t broken and bruised.

Muscles wrapping over bone, skin covering over her wet, moist flesh once again, sealing everything. Her hair sprouted, no longer burnt or dry. Darker than black to frame her pale face, eyelashes growing forth to frame her red irises as the scabs on her eyebrows healed to allow the thick hairs there to grow back.

The change was incredible. Sol could feel the growth but there was very little pain involved. She felt stronger. No. She felt back to normal, she realized, and upon this thought the hungry shadows in the room gave pause. Slowly, ever so slowly, they receded back, letting the light from the fire bask the two women in its warmth once again. Solitude sat up, feeling her sister’s anger ebb away in time with the diminishing shadows. She turned her head to look at Elle, looking down to inspect her bodies and hands and then back to face the witch.

“Huh. So I guess you are a witch after all. Great, nice to know you weren’t off your rocker after all.” Solitude said, a wry smile appearing as she shrugged before cracking her neck. “Right. So. Let’s get down to business then. Appreciate you not killing me, so in return, I’ll spare your life. But I don’t think you can handle what I do for a living, even if you are good at magic.”

Elle Selena

 

[Elle Selena]

Elle sat back on her legs, her mouth twitching slightly as the newly-healed Solitude met her rejuvenation not with gratitude or amazement, but instead veiled threats and and the beginning of a denial of the terms of their agreement. Elle was displeased, and though she was doomed to die and a great many things did little to anger or frustrate her, she found her face suddenly betraying her inner feelings.

"You... you agreed to the ritual," she said, her voice baring the full magnitude of her disbelief. Gone were the cute quips and witty banter, and in their place, a desperate rage emerged. "Dangerous or not, you will take me with you. Whether or not I die is my concern, not yours, and you'll find I am quite difficult to kill, magic or no. Perhaps you are some kind of assassin, or soldier--what have you--it matters little. I can rest nearby in a tavern while you "work." Do not cast me, the woman who saved your life, aside like a spent torch. I am not an inconvenience!"

At this, she stood back up. Her face was red hot with anger, as tears welled in her eyes. In truth, Elle was still a fairly young woman, who was used to getting her way with virtually everything as her mother was often away. Her mother's death only solidified Elle's stubborn, independent outlook on life, because while it was one thing for her to feel pessimistic and nihilistic about her future, it was another thing entirely for her to be denied, least of all by some second-rate assassin foolish enough not to die when she'd been burnt to a crisp in the first place. The least she could do was show an ounce of gratitude to the poor witch, who had used dark, binding magics to functionally bring her back to life, just as she was.

"Take me with you," she said, her voice calming a little. She knew she had little to threaten the assassin with, even if they were bound by a spell. Her voice cracked slightly as she continued, two fresh tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. "Please."

There was no way for the assassin to know just how desperate her plea was, of course, but that wouldn't stop keep her from begging, if that's what it took for her to enjoy her life at least a little bit before the inevitable end...

Solitude

 

[Solitude]

Somewhere deep inside the dark, empty depths of her heart Solitude could understand why Elle was upset. If only for the act of betrayal, and of course, betraying others was like breathing to an assassin, or maybe something else, it’s not that Sol blamed Elle for wanting things her way. Sol wanted to point out that technically, always with the technicalities as if she were fae or something just as prickly, she had agreed to be healed, not to drag Elle around with her.

Even if Elle did provide a suitable solution. Sol gave a slow, bovine wink— as if that tavern-idea hadn’t occurred to her whatsoever, which it hadn’t. She was never much of a thinker, even when she was attempting espionage she always ended up with the most brash and obvious entrances. Sheesh, it really was a wonder on how she was still alive.

And Elle had demonstrated amazing gifts of healing. Solitude could heal on her own, but it was a slow process. The deeper the wound the longer it took, and being someone who really wasn’t as skilled in the arcane as her other fellow assassins, Sol more than ever needed to work on not getting hurt. But it seemed as if on every mission she always ended up with a bloody-something.

Solitude sighed deeply.

“If you follow me you’ll surely die, sooner rather than later. And not just by my enemies, which trust me, there are many. It could be by those I have to call comrades. Those I call my boss. If they tell me to kill you, if they try to kill you, what option do you think I have other than to say ‘yes’ and do what I’m told.” Sol raised a dark brow quizzically. “You know magic, yes, but you think I haven’t disposed of powerful mages or grand wizards before?” A lie. Sol hadn’t done that… yet.

---

Quickly approaching, they wasted no time in small talk. They had felt that overwhelming presence of devouring and shadows, the fright of night and the tang of blood. The heretic assassin was still alive. She must be disposed of immediately.

Elle Selena