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A Blade and Her Witch
Chapter 11: Two Wrongs is Probably Not Going to be Enough (Blade)

Chapter 11: Two Wrongs is Probably Not Going to be Enough (Blade)

Content Warning:

Stabbing self, fingers clawing into flesh, death and absorption of a person's memories, threats of a spell of control and comparing it to strangulation, um... mention of body shifting and such. Someone gets slapped!

Do I answer her or do it and ask forgiveness? Probably best to explain and prevent any misunderstandings.

[I am going to need to perform a minor transplant on you. Your Doll has not yet ended her. Keep her alive so I may fix the damage you did.]

Perfect. Concise, Honest, and without any unpleasant details or mentioning the opportunity I'm planning on embracing.

"Ah." Elevar slows, and stops just out of reach of the dying. Going very quiet for a good number of quickening heartbeats before saying very quietly, "No. I'll handle this with my weaving. Don't trouble yourself.”

Idiot. Blasted fool. Damn the decay of time dragging us backwards.

I consider the options. It feels wasteful to not get her soul to add to my gestalt. even more so to allow this Witch to be sick for the rest of the journey.

Is It...

[Elavar, I will respect your decision. It is important for you to know that I can see the entirety of your biology while you're wielding me, Including the areas that are misaligned.]

"Good." Our bond remains but... She goes rigid. As if suddenly on reflex trying to cover a wound or otherwise exposed flesh. "I'm SO glad you understand. I'll be the only fool to fuss over this body's nonsense. Now..."

I listen with irritation as she closes up emotionally and tries to reassert herself.

Fine fine. Trust is hard won, and whatnot. Let her be for now.

A twitch of her Physis, a popping of bubbles, the beginning of a nudging command to ::Consume:: and—

"M- mistress?" The Doll murmurs, now moving to stand just beside its Witch and myself as it nervously adjusts and fiddles at the packs. "I... um... Is... Is everything... Um..."

My desire for this... Doll has waned with the knowledge that it is like me in some respects.

Needy though. So very dependent.

"Fine dearie." Elevar very nearly snaps, but... catches herself and softens her next words. "Are you finished salvaging?"

"Yes Ma'am." The Doll nods, then nibbles at its lip. "You used the bubbles to cleanse yourself and... and last time you did that we... we... you had to rest for weeks! And... and the nice lady you hired to help you recover said that even a young Witch with a Wellspring of Ousia couldn't fix this!"

What? THIS ISN'T THE FIRST TIME!?!

"Dearie..." Elevar sighs.

"And... and we're in the middle of the causeways and need to move fast and hard. Something that would exhaust you on the best of days!" The Doll is almost shouting now. "I... I could carry you but... but you still won't be able to eat well and... and I don't have enough... enough..."

"Stop." Elevar demands, her voice thrumming with a Witch's command.

A long pause settles as the Doll obeys but... remains obviously distraught.

In rage I shift, my arm once more in hers as I rear back the other and slap her across the face.

“Enough. I will follow if you wish to lead, but not to your death unnecessarily. Now. There is work to do. I will submit to whatever punishment you deem fit when we are done.”

As she reels back I look at the Doll and perfectly matching Elevar voice and Witch Tone I command, “Heel. Watch Closely.”

Such an odd sensation rolls up the arm clasped by Elevar. Twisting back and looking down I see…

Blood? Ah. Yes. She is angry.

Nails digging into flesh, she steps up and closes the distance. Twirling something between the fingers of the other she intones in such a suddenly soft but still furious voice. “Yes, that’s a wonderful idea. You should both Heel. Then Watch and Listen Closely.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

KILL HER! Make her submit! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. NO. Teach her. Agreement.

She never releases my arm, even digs her taloned nails deeper still into flesh. “You’re right. Of course. I’d probably fall to frayed pieces if I tried to continue our journey in this state. But…” She lets the last syllable pop menacingly as she tips my chin up to face her. “I have at least three options to consider, and It will not be you who decides which path your Witch will take.”

I listen, allowing her to continue before I begin her instruction.

“You may contradict me in private, when I deem there is time for it.” She whispers. “You may adopt a form of flesh, when none others are around to witness the shifting. But you will NEVER mimic my voice and command this or any other Doll. Not if you wish to survive this new age you’ve tumbled into.”

With a twist of my Ousia that already flows through her form, I craft a cyst that presses just so against the Superior Laryngeal Nerve preventing her from speech and forcing her to breathe manually.

While she still pierces my arm I gesture with the other to have the crossbow maiden rise into my grip.

Examples must be made

I look at the dying girl in my grip, familiar in so many ways.

“You have a choice, Human. Fade into history with your death, or live in service to me.”

“B– b– what?” The girl stammers. “I… I’ll do whatever you want. J– just don’t–”

::Blood/Marrow/Bone/Iron::

Such a gentle tip-tapping nudges against my Physis, and flash of motion from behind me.

CRACK.

Jerking back, I see… The tool, the weapon, the razor sharp… knitting needle? Plunged clean through Elevar’s wrist, just above and barely missing my own fingers as it pierces through at an ugly angle. Her grip now locked harder than before.

::Blood/Marrow/Bone/Iron::

Then, with her now free hand, she unleashes a whirlwind of cleansing bubbles. Not toward me, but at the girl behind. Pure Physis meant to cleanse every scrap of her from my grip.

With a puff of breath I dissolve the cleaning spell as easily as I did in the Archives, then snap the girl's neck.

"Good. I look forward to your memories in my next Driftdream."

Before feeding on the body's Ousia and Physis, I unceremoniously drop the body and delve into it with my Ousia, twisting flesh into vesicles containing the microbes I require for Elevar’s recovery and pulling them into my free hand.

I return my focus to my Witch. Mine.

"Let us come to a proper understanding, Elevar. I am your partner, not your property. Thus we should set terms to our agreement. I want to stay with you, but I do not need you anymore. I am still here by choice. If you wish to Own me, you have to be Worthy."

I feel a craving deep inside for such a situation, but… Not yet, no.

"I am sorry for commanding your Doll and utilizing your voice. I will not do so again. In turn, you will never use the Tone on me unless I explicitly agree to it."

I remove the cyst blocking her speech and wait for her response.

A pause passes as she tries to hide a subtle gasp as her faculties return under her control, eyes locked on mine.

And that’s when I see the real strike she's prepared, the bubbles only a distraction.

::Blood/Marrow/Bone/ … and?::

The last flutter left unwoven. A twisting writhing mess of tangle Physis wrought of all the above and ready to launch out and around me, something not to kill but…

Elevar waits for the subtle recognition through our bond before speaking.

“If I wanted to own you.” She growls. “This is what I would use. It’s ugly and clumsy and nothing like my cunt of a mentor could cast, but it would work. A garrote that tightens the more you fight it. Or, if it frays and degrades, it would give me more than enough time to dig a hole deeper than the Archive was to drop you down.”

She takes a deep breath… and snips the prepared spell. Causing it to dissolve into useless Physis. Then jerks the needle free of her wrist and twists Physis to clot and clean the wound. Resetting splintered bone and freeing muscles to undo her grip. Even increases the connection between us to offer Physis for the gouges she’s left in my wrist.

“But, I don’t want… No. That’s a lie.” She looks at the corpse and the mess in my hand, disgust and annoyance radiating from her. “I do want to own you. Because that’s… Well, it doesn’t matter. I don't. I accept your terms, and here are mine. You will never adjust or alter my flesh without my explicit agreement or request, and you will listen to the last two of my earlier demands. I was cruel with their phrasing but… They’re to protect us both. You’ll find other Witches much more sour to your nature, and that’s without considering the cunt they’ll see you’re keeping company with.”

I yearn for this one. She's so Apt.

"Accepted."

I drop to my knees before her. "I will hold onto these vesicles within my own form for now. I would appreciate the opportunity to explain the usage and necessity of such when you deem it fit. I will do nothing to alter or adjust your flesh without permission, I will express contradictions in private, and I will keep my shifting hidden from prying eyes. All of these to the best of my abilities."

With a grimace, I pull open my abdomen with a hand shifted into blade, revealing mostly empty space past the surface layers of flesh, and secure the vesicles along my spine before sealing my abdomen shut once more.

"I am prepared for whatever punishment you deem fit.”

“Punishment? After all that. This entire mess and you’re just…” She pauses, takes a deep breath. “Xafra, If that is the name you choose to keep, as furious as I was and still am with you. The fault here is mine, which is why I am at least grateful that it is me and not either of you two that’ll deal with a gut full of bile for the next week or three.”

"I overstepped. Regardless of my feelings, I did so knowing it deserved punishment."

Name. My Name. SHE NAMED ME. I'm Xafra.

"I would be honored to keep the name you have granted me. None of my partners ever did so, and all of the prior ones feel false."

I look over to the Doll in confusion.

I don't even have real viscera. Does it? FOCUS

"I lost a previous partner to a spell similar to the one you turned on yourself. They died in agony, unable to digest food, fight off sickness or clot their blood. I do not wish that to occur.”

"Ah. I... Only honest mistakes then. Nothing malicious." Elevar sighs and holds out a hand to me. "No punishments. Not for you at least.”

I take her hand in mine, returning to my natural form once more, feeling content, safe in the grip of this beautiful monster.

Fuck it. All in.

[We should discuss your biology at some point. I understand your reticence as a resheathed to talk about it, but there are elements, foreign workings, that serve to limit you. I spent decades learning anatomy from every tome on resheathing I could find, and they don't correspond. I will not bring this up again if you do not wish to speak on it.]

"Resheathed? What..." She murmurs. "Was that the term for girl's like me in your time? Ones who had to spend way too much time and Ousia to reshape themselves into a form they could stand?”

[Yes. many of the—]

I cut myself off as the flashbacks hit, waves of terror and suffering, quiet joys snuffed out in revulsion, unending rage against the Witches that slew us.

[—girls that went into making me were in the process of resheathing themselves through the help of medicines and Ousia techniques passed down. I favored partnering with such individuals afterwards as well, as my talents tend to allow significant flexibility in that regard.]

Elevar goes quiet for such a long moment. Her heart rate speeds up, mouth going dry. "Wait. What did you mean by foreign workings?”

[You have someone else's Ousia still bound in places in your body. The most worrisome one in my opinion is behind your eyes.]