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A Blade and Her Witch
Chapter 12: Name Pending (Witch)

Chapter 12: Name Pending (Witch)

Name Pending

Content Warnins:

MASSIVE body pains (including head and legs and lungs and gut and such). Talk of dehumanization/personalization, pre-transition dysphoria about names

Everything hurts.

That’s impossible.

Why?

Because I… I’ve been free of her Moonshite for YEARS. Tore her body and Ousia apart with my first Blasenplage!!!

Wrist and legs and lungs and heart and gut all pulse with nothing but pain while my head throbs in fury.

The… the idea that I wouldn’t notice little horrid traps and weaving and… and… But… how would I?

She taught me everything. Personally wove my Ousia into… into this. Into what I am! How, By the Dead Hag’s rotting tits, would I even know which of her teachings were lies and what were truths as she literally helped me reknit myself!?!

Was… Did she ever not lie to me?

Stomach clinches again.

Probably not.

Every word a tether to turn her every action into the same garrote I almost tied around Xafra’s–

I have to stop and heave dry nothings into the causeway.

Gut long emptied of everything but some mild sedatives but… those probably didn’t make it through. Not with how much of even the clean and purified water I’ve tossed up. Whether from the rotted gut I’ve given myself, or my disgust at what Xafra’s told me and I’ve now picked out with my own dull senses… I’m not sure.

As I weave my fast draining Physis into a subtle working to relieve at least some of this pain My Doll hovers worriedly at my side. All filled with anxiety and worry and fear for its fool girl of a Mistress.

Quiet though… blessedly quiet…

My musings are interrupted by a pulse from Xafra. ::Query::

To take a breath might lead to sniffing in the foul stench of my sick, so instead I give a simple ::Acceptance:: in reply and turn to keep moving.

[I was thinking. When I was with Borazag, I was unable to connect with your companion due to your tether, but due to us both being tethered to you, I likely could create a bridge between us so we may both communicate with you and each other. Would it be permissible to attempt this?]

That stutters the next spiral I wanted to let myself fall into. Get nearly halfway through Canting ::Confusion:: before I realize her mistake. Almost chuckle aloud as I reply.

::Negation/Wasteful/Risk::

And then we’re moving again. Briskly making our way along the long stretch of sandy paths. To each side nothing but salty-sweet waters, and the occasional jutting root peeking up. Sometimes they even weave over the causeway itself, forcing us to either get our boots wet or climb overtop.

Just under a dozen foreign oddities sprinkled through my flesh was Xafra’s claim, and the first three hours of this was her carefully showing me all of them. Convincing me she wasn’t just… just wrong. Most seemed inert and… well not innocent. Strange foreign objects and gathers of Ousia can NEVER be that. But… less of an immediate problem.

Others though…

Once again I’m interrupted by a pulse from Xafra.

::Confusion::

“Hmm?” I murmur as I decide to slow our pace a bit. Even with our scrabble with the bandits and my own needs to stop and indulge my sick, we’ve made wonderful time. “What’s on your mind, dearie?”

[How would such a connection be wasteful or risky? I've thought it over and cannot figure it out myself.]

“Oh. Simple, really.” I tip-tap fingers along the hilt absently. “It’s wasteful because it has little to contribute to any conversation. We’d either find our mind's laden with meaningless ocean squalls or fluttering nonsense from it. Should we consider adding my soggy boots to our tether next?”

[Were... your boots also a human once?]

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

That causes me to slow even more. The furious throbbing in my head riding her words like a growing wave. Annoyance at needing to explain such a simple concept to one so clever. And then the fool girl deepens that hole even further!

[But also, I am... wanting to apologize and introduce myself to it.]

I full on stop then. Take a deep and careful breath. “Apologize? Why?”

[I commanded it utilizing Witch Tone, despite having no agreement with it regarding authority. It was disrespectful to both of you. I feel embarrassed that I don't even know its name, just its title as a doll and I still made that decision.]

Regret and earnestness pulse through the bond.

“She…” A thrum of pain pricks at… at how stupid she’s being. “No, Xafra. Not… IT isn’t like you. Dolls are tools. Nothing more. Their minds and Ousia literally melted down into… into…”

A form they can stomach without pain. My mind roils at how similar I was… and still am.

Another prick.

Could have easily become just like her.

Another pulse of pain.

[What makes me different from it? Is it not the same as me, simply streamlined and perfected through trial and error into compliance with less functions?]

Everything. Weak and stupid and willing to let another break the old person into nothing just so long as it can be something different when put back together. I want to hiss. Compliance is what makes her–

I grind my teeth to try and hold back the pain as my gut roils to match the throb in my head. Already so tired of this. “Fine, since you’ve got your teeth locked into this… And who knows. Maybe we’ll need to communicate to it with the Physis Cant should something more dangerous than a simple muppet of a Denizen stumble into our path. Just don’t say that I didn’t warn you.”

::Relief/Gratitude::

Xafra branches our tether, a strand threading its way to the connection with my Doll, carefully growing down through with absurd precision before latching on, entirely contained within my own connection.

[Hello, little sister. Is it alright if we speak for a bit?]

My Doll sputters for a second, although glancing back the frame only shows a little widening of the eyes. [H-hello? Who, how? I'm sorry. I don't think I'm allowed.]

Xafra returns primary focus to me, as she should.

[...it is Incredibly obedient to you. A commendable trait.]

“If I ever find the cunt who made it, then abandoned them to rust away… then I'll let you tell her just before I boil her alive with my spells.” I huff. “But honestly, that’s like…”

I can very nearly hear my old mentor cackle in the back of my head. “Like complimenting a dog for wagging its tail.”

I slow down a bit, then take the deepest breath I can without risking pain. I… I always hated how she treated my Doll. How she demanded I treat it. So… why am I trying so hard to be just like her? Especially after so many years of working to be better?

The answer makes me scowl. Because you’re angry, embarrassed, and in more pain than the last time you turned this spell onto yourself. You stupid stupid gerlthing.

So I turn to walk backwards while addressing my Doll. “Our new traveling companion asked to include you in this bond. Feel free to respond and converse as you like. Just don’t clog up the tether if danger arrives.”

[Oh! Thank you Mistress.]

Feelings of warmth and contentment flickers along our bond for the first time. Possibly a side effect of Xafra's work.

I nod and turn to continue moving while letting them converse.

[Excellent. Little sister, my name is Xafra. I am the spear that... penetrated your sister, and you know, I feel like it was impolite to do so before even learning its name. So I would like to apologize for that, as well as commanding you earlier. That was uncalled for and disrespectful.]

Embarrassment and Fascination flicker to life in my Doll as it replies.

[Oh gosh. That's okay. Thank you. I'm uhm not supposed to use my name so you can call us both Doll as well unless Mistress Elevar says otherwise.]

My new weapon simply sends back. [Understood]

Xafra drops into one of those Driftdreams of hers as I very nearly stumble over my own two feet.

Name?

“Dearie…” I murmur as gently as I can while I work to keep my balance and pace. “Did you or your sister happen to remember anything more from before your installation since I last asked?”

"Yes, Mistress. Our memory is fragmented and split between us but we have a number of them. Not many pleasant ones, as being a boy in those situations was bad. Worse after, for a while before my sister… Oh I'm so sorry Mistress, I'm rambling. I'll stop now."

Anxiety whispers along the bond from it.

“No you’re… You're fine!” I stammer at the titterings of emotion from my Doll. “I just… Didn’t realize you remembered the name from before. When did that bubble up?”

"Sorry Mistress, which name?"

“The… what you just told Xafra.” I clarify. “You just… you sounded like you had a name you wanted to give but didn’t. Was the first I’ve seen you do that.”

"I um. She had given us a name. For uhm…. Intimate use. It's the only name we have that doesn't feel painful. We don't like the other one, the one from before. Tried to forget it. I'm sorry that I'm a bad Doll, Mistress."

WHAT? The older sister only gave us a designation number! A… a marker to distinguish it from a set of Dolls built for combat. Never a name. Old or new!!!

“No you're not a bad Doll, dearie. Just… Do you like that name? Not the… the old one. The second one given after becoming a Doll?” The pain in my head twists into such a horridly debilitating mess that forces me to stop if I want to speak and vomit words instead of more dry bile.

“Yes, Mistress Elevar!" Its voice spikes in excitement as hope pulses through the bond.

My first instinct is to chide it. To crush this stupid thought path. But…Why?

Why do you CARE if your mentor thought naming Dolls a moronic practice? Was she ever right in her cruelties? How many of those old worms she burrowed into your head are you going to keep feeding!?!

You Stupidstupidstupidstupid HEARTLESS CUNT! No better than the mentor you scrubbed away with the Blasenplage. This Doll would have been better off if it could have left you to rot away and found a better Mistress.

The pain lessens a bit at that. Enough for me to push out in a calm voice. “Would you like to share it? To… For me to use it?”

"It's… Schatzi, Mistress Elevar. But you don't have to! I want to be your Doll still." Its voice drops to a near whisper, "Please don't get rid of me."

One of the old words for a jewel or…

“Oh… That’s so perfect. You really are both such treasures.” Everything spins a bit as I turn to give her the best smile I can. Head balancing on the ridge of what I know to be a dip into the worst pain yet. “And don’t worry yourself, I’ll keep you as long as I breathe.”

Even bracing, the wave of horrid fury slams into my everything like the worst of the winter storms and…Oh.

Well… that’s more than I expected and… and worse than even I can handle at the moment.

And then the ground is rushing up to strike my stupid face.