CW:

Demeaning those without magical training, anticipation of violence.

After about six hours of pursuing my catalog and the girl settling upon a book, her… well I wouldn’t call it anxiety. Nothing so simple. But a well defined and hard to hide sense of foreboding every time the author mentioned the night sky grew to such an overwhelming level. Eventually I decided that a jaunt up to the surface was overdue and a great chance to get a better understanding of just how long she must have been trapped in this old Archive.

Such an overwhelming sense of dread and sadness runs through the bond we share. Loss and fury and… so much more. Emotions that force me to focus harder than I’ve had to since my first days of training with a cruel Mentor else be drug into submitting to the maelstrom.

[How could such a tragedy happen!?! It feels like I'm looking upon the desecrated corpse of my mothers!]

I take a deep breath as I stare out over the twisting fields of dancing roots and growths the size of cottages, letting my eyes almost lazily cast about to continue to share the sight with her. But… feeling her care only for the source of these overwhelming emotions.

The Cracked and Riven Moon, hanging just at the edge of its winding path around the skies.

This leviathan of the void above is broken into three large chunks, two smaller ones, and a halo that wobbles around and through the cluster in a dazzling display that dominates the pre-weeping that dawn will bring.

“Plenty of Astrologers agree that it must have once been whole.” I muse while cradling the spearform in the crook of one arm. “But… none can seem to agree on when that was. Some say only a few thousand years, others much much longer. The Moonwaste itself tells us little, what with how it resists all spell weavings. So… anything we might use to date the stuff is useless.”

She sends across a cascade of memories, the sight of the moon from dozens of different perspectives laced with the feelings of reassurance, confidence that safety can be found under the aegis of the Merciful Moon's light.

[Once it was whole. It was so much more than just a rock in the sky. It was Divine, a symbol of unity.]

I cannot help but feel such a sense of vertigo as the gifted visions fade. An honest comfort being replaced by my own annoyance with the horrid thing.

“That’s… Fascinating. The Witches of the age find it quite the opposite. What with how it drags the oceans across so much of the land.” I take in a deep breath gauging the sweet scene on the winds. “Speaking of which, it’s good we left when we did. The tide will cut off the southern route within the next few days. And… I’m thinking with your help we can make it across before then.”

[I don't know the geography any more. This landscape is vastly different from what I remember, but I will assist how I can.] A heartbeat passes before the weapon follows up. [Does Humanity even exist anymore or is it just Denizens and Witches?]

“Oh… the mundane are about. More numerous than both.” I chuckle as my Doll exits the cave behind us, moving up to stand just behind as it shoulders the huge bundle of chitin. “But they are not to be underestimated. Humanity will and has always been such a wondrously vicious beast when faced with the horrors of life.”

“Ready to go, Mistress.” My Doll chimes happily. Totally and completely unbothered by the weight.

So glad I didn’t bring many supplies for it to try and manage around that. We might actually be able to turn a profit besides… well… we’ll see how well this blade can harvest and give me Ousia. I’ll not count my treasures before the waves come in.

“Wonderful. Good girl.” I reply to her with a grin. “We’re going to test some things today, dear. Make sure to keep up and be ready to act the moment danger might arise. Speed is the aim if we’re to make it over the southern causeways before tomorrow evening.”

My Doll looks at me with such confusion and worry. She’d been… quite befuddled when I explained that ‘yes indeed, the girl you saw is also this blade and she’s going to travel with us for quite some time I expect.”

But… understanding of things was never her, nor her sisters, strong suit. I’ve always suspected that they were chosen for Dollhood due to that very reason. Not quite bright enough to weave what must have been such an unfair wellspring of Ousia and Physis into a spell, so… either press-ganged or submitted willingly to the Remaking.

I’ve asked which it was, and neither remembers.

“Can… But…” It stammers out a bit more nonsense during my patient waiting before finally managing to say, “I’m sorry but… can you handle such an intense journey?”

Surprise and amusement courses through my new bond with the weapon.

“What? Worried you might get tired and delay our travel?” I tease, and instantly regret it.

“No! Just… I mean… you’re… but the… your…” It blubbers and just… falls to pieces. Even looks like she’s about to have a little cry at this soft bit of play.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Stupid girl! Old bad habits bubbling up at the first sign of freedom from that old weariness. We’re supposed to treat it better than before!

I move to it and cup a cheek in my free hand. “Shush. I’m only teasing dear, and appreciate so much you worrying over me.”

It settles a bit, eyes wandering over my shoulder to gaze out with such anxiety over our path. “But… You had to rest three times along much easier pathways.” It whispers, such shame in those eyes. “Almost hurt yourself and… and then those rude people attacked and–”

I shush it with a finger to the lips. “Yes, and you and your sister dealt with them so beautifully. But this blade is quite special. Will make the journey easier and… well… I would love to stumble across either that same band or one like them to let her test out her abilities.”

[A hunt would be lovely] the blade purrs along the bond. And I can’t help but let my own desires bubble up and refract back in answer.

My Doll purses those perfect lips, then nods. “Okay. Sorry Mistress.”

I give her a light kiss on the nose. “Apology accepted, now… let’s get moving.”

* * *

“Oh this is delightfully perfect.” I grin so wickedly as I stare across the first of the southern causeways.

Spotting the trap this group set with my Ousia senses.

“M– mistress?” My Doll asks as it moves up to our side.

We’d been able to maintain a brisk pace all morning. Even ate while moving to save as much time as possible. Just in case this blade either ran dry on her ability to halt the Seelenfäule’s voracious hunger. But… the opposite happened. With this wonderful gerlthing’s help I’m not just what I was a few decades back, I’m better.

Can easily settle the spell-weavings for speed and endurance and… and even some sensory enhancements into my body with ease. Years spent refining such workings to be as efficient as possible combined with a thrumming of Ousia I’ve not felt since my earliest days creating a potent combination.

Could probably match my Doll tit-for-tat if I wanted to draw either into a bit of spar and play.

“It seems someone thought to set a little snare upon the causeway ahead, dear.” I adjust the weapon and continue our movements. “Let’s go say hello and see if they’re smarter than the last group to try this on us.”

“I… but…” It stutters and has to jog up to keep pace. “Do you want me to call up my sister? Like before? I… that way you don’t need to use your magic and… and spend yourself so early into our journey!”

“Nonsense.” I hum happily. “I’m itching to stretch my withering muscles and get back into practice with my martial work. Spears were actually a required learning for the Witches of my time and area. The perfect tool to deal with all manner of pests.”

“I…” It goes quiet for a bit, then blurts out in a whisper. “But what about your condition, Mistress!?!”

I can’t help but sigh, wishing to tell her a bit more but…

Need to keep it ignorant of our little arrangement. Let it think that this weapon is simply… like them. A Doll that wished to be a weapon. Only the other sister is aware of this gerlthing’s horribly special abilities. Best to keep it that way. For all manner of reasons, honestly.

“I’ll be letting this spear do most of the work.” I shrug. “These are Mundanes, after all. Not a spell or artifact that I can sense. The most they’ll do is throw a rock or shoot an arrow and my wards and reflexes will handle all but a siege weapon’s blow.”

The weapon informs almost, it seems, on reflex. [Humans have smaller souls, less Ousia and Physis to consume. Important to know.]

My Doll opens its mouth to protest more, but I turn to give it ‘the Look’, and it quiets. Unhappy and filled with worry but… I’d rather not waste time explaining when I can easily do this.

Hm… will be curious how much of a meal this will be for her… I muse while feeling out the number and weight of the cluster of mundanes waiting in ambush. Enough to replace what she’s used for me? Less? More?

“And what about you, dearie?” Murmuring, I slow and regard the weapon. “Is your mind and will ready to defend and subdue any manner of thing that attacks us? Be they a beast, Doll or even a simple bandit?”

I tint my words with a touch of my Witches Voice, just… curious how she’ll react. Doll’s follow that due to their nature. A siren call that the tone exudes to their need to serve. Some mundane people can find themselves affected a bit. Pushed at the odd pitch of the command, but they tended to be fairly docile anyway. I doubt she'll react to it but… It would be interesting.

And will tell me if she’ll be useless in a battle against another Witch.

A Chorus of emotions courses along the tether between us, compliance, despair, fear and rage, all giving way to a dominating manic lust.

[Eheheheheheheh, That feeeeeels like a provocation, my little Witch.]

Can’t help but only just remain steady at her words and thrum of such raw and strong emotions. Double check the few wards that still remain entwined after letting her Ousia and my Physis mingle.

“If we’re still operating from a place of honesty…” I adjust the grip, and quicken my pace toward the trap. “It was.”

A couple dozen paces, and we’ll pass the first line. If these fools are well trained and patient they’ll stay hidden as we pass. I’m keeping a confident yet unguarded stance as I move. Just… looking like some armed traveler with a Doll to carry a delicious looking bundle of sellable chitin shells.

“My Doll can do nothing but obey its Witch.” I muse as we walk. “Is always such a good girl for her Mistress. Because it can do nothing else now. I could give all manner of cruel and terrible demands, and it would devote everything it is to following them.”

First line behind us now, twenty or so paces to the middle between the two. Soon… well… I’ll see if these fools want to talk first or just… dive right into the violence. Their Ousia shows they’re ready for that but…

“But what of you? Xafra?” Speaking an old word as both a name and my claim to this wayward gerlthing, I flex my grip delicately and almost provocatively on the old leather wrapped about her hilt. “What will you do when I poke and prod? When your Witch makes demands you’d otherwise not follow?”

[Xafra? Oh, oh a name for me. Mine, yes.] She thrums as the emotions taper off into steady combat focus, only hints of joy and mania still leak through. [I will follow first, yet scales and pendulums will be balanced if pushed too far. best learn caution… or to duck.]

Some fool does step out as I reach the middle line. Makes threats and… even levels some crossbow at me, of all Riven things.

I chuckle at both her reply and the fool, then turn back to regard my Doll. “Kneel and wait dearie, we’ll handle this. Only move if some fool thinks to attack you directly. Continue to remain below Giyar four motions. ”

Despite the anxiety that crosses that cute face, it follows my command.

And I turn back to smile so sweetly to the fool girl who thinks that aiming a crossbow at an armed Witch will gift her anything in this life or the next. She shouts more nonsense, and pretty much all of the others shuffle from their hiding spots. Armed with all manner of little blades and big hooks and even quite a few nets.

“Cute.” I can’t help but giggle, letting my Spell weaving of motion and endurance flare up like I’ve not done in…

Well, ever. To be honest, I wasn’t that good with this magic a decade ago. Only focused on it to mitigate the Seelenfäule’s withering.

“Let’s see what we can do, My Xafra.” I purr, and let her focus and little titters of mania and joy mingle so well with the echoes of my spell.